treeteaofversailles

[treeteaofversailles]

I understand your point, anyway good luck in your writings!

Thank youu! ><

[treeteaofversailles]

OMG thanks!!! I loved your work with Jacob♡♡♡

Can you make a short continue with a more romantic plot?

Hello~!

This was really fun to write, and I am glad that you enjoyed it! While this was really fun to write, I don't think I will write a full short for it since I have been a bit busy with other things happening.

Plus, Twilight isn't really a fandom that I really want to do a deep dive back into now that I'm older. I'm worried I might drag the characters more than give them substantial grounds to be good characters in a short...

But I did have a fun time taking a spin with this angle though and I really do appreciate your asks!

[treeteaofversailles]

This may be more a of a personal issue I have, so scroll past if you don’t want to hear my frustration with the cards for the Midsummer event…

Otherwise, I hope everyone has fun with the event itself.

I’m gonna read through the story thing and play with Zayne’s and my pet bird (which I named Yukine), but I’m done with the pulls.

My tactic was to pull until I got Zayne’s card, and I was pretty lucky with the previous events, but I think I jinxed it hard this time.

Either way…

The pulls for the new event pissed me off. Or at least, my pulls for it did.

I had 71 wish cards so I could pull about 7 times, losing 70 wish cards, if I was being desperate to get Zayne’s card for the event, leaving me with 1 Deepspace wish card left.

I got Xavier’s in ~3 pulls or so. And that was after I made Zayne’s the precise one. And FINALLY I got Zayne’s after a few more pulls, plus some to get the outfit for Zayne and also got a surprise Rafayel too, leaving me with:

6 WISH CARDS

I’m gonna have to grind so hard at everything I know earns diamonds (Abyssal Chaos, the Kahli flower thing after it rests my points, Deepspace trials, Core hunts, bounty hunts, ranking up the cards…) back in time for the birthday event. I don’t want to drop real money for anything in this game because—to me—it’s not a worthwhile investment for my other plans in the future.

At this point, I really regret the pull for this event.

Was it worth it to save for Zayne’s birthday event and the other myth stuff? Yeah, probably.

Would I have regretted not pulling for this event? Probably not, considering it might cycle again… and if it doesn’t, I can just watch content on YouTube or insta if I’m so desperate.

But overall, I wasn’t very happy with my pulls. I mean, I got Xavier’s, Zayne’s, and Rafayel’s cards. That’s 3/3 for the cards that I did want. But what really gets me is the fact I used so much and set Zayne’s to be the priority wish card…

Again, this is definitely a me problem, but it still makes me really frustrated enough to rant a bit. I makes me more frustrated especially for other players who may not be able to pull any of their main’s cards at all in the event.

That said: I think this is a fun event and I might just be taking the piss out of it for myself by being salty for my unlucky pulls. :/

[treeteaofversailles]

Sylus as the Dante Dancing Meme

I can’t get the song from Dante’s dancing meme out of my head.

And I can’t stop imagining Sylus pulling those moves to seduce someone.

Like a giant freaking bird or Toothless trying to seduce his wife.

Reference links below…

[treeteaofversailles]

Hi! I was wondering if you take requests?

I just wanted to ask you to write some Jacob Black headcanons for reader, who is some kind of witch and does tarot readings. I just really love your works, but anyway, have a nice day♡

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask! 

I haven’t read or watched Twilight since high school, so I might be a little rusty on his character. Furthermore, in the Twilight canon, Jacob is about two years younger than Bella, making him 16 years old in Breaking Dawn at the oldest, so this won’t be anything explicit. It’ll be purely platonic. 

I also did a little bit of reading on tarot since I am not as familiar with it, so please pardon any inaccuracies. I used these links here as a source for what the cards mean and to get readings for this work.

Summary: Witch!Reader is around the same age as Jacob and does tarot readings. Purely platonic, very small hint of a romance at the end if you squint. Jacob needs to find someone to talk to (who won’t take advantage of his feelings). Was trying to make it a headcanon, but it ended up being a not-so-short writing thing… sorry

Jacob Black x Witch!Reader

You and Jacob first met (held a real interaction) when he and a girl entered your shop

You remember the girl’s name since she was the talk of the town when she moved in. 

You knew she was Bella, and you knew Jacob already, because he was in your classes, but you rarely spoke to each other

He knew you were into tarot since everyone in the school talked about it, and you weren’t one to hide your skills or ability

You also knew about his crush on Bella, so you kept your feelings platonic with Jacob

They both came in to get a love reading

Bella came in for a love reading, but you had a feeling it was for someone else

Jacob came in for a love reading, but you had a feeling it was for him and Bella

You could see Jacob glancing at Bella as you did the reading for them her

You received Bella’s reading:

Temperance, Judgement, The Empress, The Sun, Justice, The World

The first told you what Bella felt about herself: Temperance. 

“You are searching for a sense of harmony and balance, such as a breakup in a relationship that you want the peace to be restored in.” You told her. 

Then the next told her about what she wanted the most now: Judgement. 

“You want a new start,” you began. You saw Jacob shifting a bit in his seat, his eyes lighting up as he watched Bella. “You shouldn’t be so hung up on your regrets. You should look for new opportunities present.”

Her fears: The Empress.

“You feel insecure. That makes sense from your first card. You may be worried about the people you love and care about,” you looked at her intently and gave a kind smile as her nervous gaze met yours. “But don’t worry too much about them. Don’t try to smother them. Things will be alright.”

What is going for her: The Sun. 

“This is your time for success, to find joy, and confidence. You should be celebrating with your friends,” you glanced at Jacob when you saw him sitting up in his chair. “This is a time for your break, even if you don’t feel like it at the moment, this is your time.” 

What is going against her: Justice.

“That being said, you should be cautious of anyone who is going to act dishonestly and only by their self-interest. There won’t be a clear victory, so you need to take care.” 

The likely outcome: The World.

“Lastly… despite the warning and your trepidations… everything holds true. You will have satisfaction in your relationships, and you will make a new discovery.” 

That reading made Bella’s shoulders unpinch and she looked a little more sure of herself

Then you did Jacob’s reading

Strength, The Devil, The Emperor, Temperance, The Hierophant, and the Hermit

You gave his reading in that order:

“You are going through many challenges, but you will find the courage and strength to get through them. You may be working on a rocky relationship, but you will have the willpower to overcome it.

“It seems what you really want right now, you can’t have. You want to obtain it, but you need to be careful since it could be a bad choice and end up hurting you.

“There is success for you around the corner, but you feel like it’s out of reach. You should reach out to your father or to some male figure in your life you trust to help you.

“You will be entering a time of peace and harmony in your life and relationship, though. You should take the time to enjoy this moment while you can.

“However, you are struggling to meet expectations, and it seems like you are quite unsettled. You should focus on what is most important to you and what really makes you happy instead of trying to break yourself to please others.

“That being said… This time is for your personal reflection. You may want to be alone and find answers about what your goals are, who you are, and what you want so you can receive true rest.”

Jacob looked a little uneasy after his reading

You didn’t charge them, but they did buy some crystals and protective charms before leaving

You looked at Jacob’s hand carefully again, memorizing each card and the resulting reading

You couldn’t help but worry for him a bit

The next time Jacob came in, he was alone. He approached your counter quickly and grabbed the edge, staring at you intensely.

“What do you have to make someone forget?” Jacob asked. 

“Good morning, Jacob. I’m doing fine, thank you for asking,” you stopped shuffling your deck and placed it back on the table. “Why are you asking that?” 

“I want to… I need to use it,” he replied, his voice clipped and so tense you swore you could see each individual word being grated over his teeth. 

“On yourself or on someone else? Because both options are really bad, Jacob,” you replied evenly. 

His jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white as he held your table harder. “But I need it to forget.” 

You remembered his reading. His individual reading. You sighed softly and then got out of your seat. You parted the curtain of glass beads leading to your kitchen and grabbed the kettle. “Please join me back here. I promise I won’t stab you. It’s bad for business.” 

You heard heavy footsteps and the sound of the glass beads clicking against each other as Jacob joined you. 

“Is that going to make me forget?” Jacob asked. “Make me forget her?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t dabble in that stuff. It’s too messy. And far too risky. Besides,” You boiled some water and opened a cabinet full of tea leaf jars. “We can’t forget the past. We’d end up neglecting our present and the future.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he approached you, leaning against the counter as you selected your tea. 

“To yearn for the past is unattainable. The present becomes the past. The future becomes our present. If you want to forget the past, you forget to exist in the present and live for your future,” you said. 

You nudged the box closer to Jacob and looked at him carefully. “My only suggestion to heal from the heartache is to have a nice chat with a friend over a cup of tea.” 

Jacob’s brows knit tight, not entirely believing you, but he eventually picked out a tea blend, and you poured two cups. 

Jacob kept coming in after that

You both shared a cup of tea and he asked you to do more readings

For the first few days, it would be the same as the one you gave him the first time when he came in with Bella

You suggested that the readings stop since they wouldn’t help him, and instead taught him how to use the cards

He fumbled with them at first, but with your gentle guidance, he began to be more fluid with it

Jacob even offered you a reading

You drew: strength, the Devil, temperance, the world, the magician, and the hierophant

He struggled to broaden the reading but you let him try it rather than coming up with your own conclusions

“You… are facing challenges, but you will find strength to overcome them…” Jacob said after looking at the cheat sheet you made for him.

“You want something that you can’t have right now… and it might not be a good choice to go for it,” he pointed at the Devil.

“You are afraid…” he pointed at Temperance, “That this period of harmony in your life won’t last long, and you fear that something or someone will cause conflict for you again.” Jacob looked at you and smiled softly, ”But you shouldn’t worry because the conflict is only temporary. So be patient.”

You nodded, your chest feeling a little warmer as he said that.

“You will have success and fulfillment soon. It could be a business venture or a good relationship, so just enjoy that.”

Jacob frowned as he looked at the magician card. “However, someone… a guy… will be trying to deceive you.” His hand tightened as he read the card. “He could act charming. He can act like a friend, but he doesn’t have your interests at heart.” 

You looked at the card intently. You didn’t speak to a lot of people. You couldn’t think of anyone who matched that profile in your life. You glanced at Jacob from the corner of your eye. 

A part of you wasn’t entirely surprised either. 

Jacob cleared his throat and pointed at the hierophant. “But help is at hand. You should turn to someone wise to guide you, but don’t rely too much on them since this is your life to live. And you should go with more traditional routes and traditions since they could give you a clear answer.” 

You looked at your dealt hand and then nodded. “Not bad, Black.” 

Jacob smiled. 

Jacob kept visiting, and you had to restock your tea collection

You both ended up just chatting with one another and studying together

He would walk you back to your shop/home and sit in the kitchen with you, doing homework or helping you bake

Both of you got closer that he’d call out for you first in school and come over bounding to you with a big smile

He once held up a deck of regular cards and said, “Pick a card, any card…”

You picked from the middle of the deck, and he hemmed and hawed over it, being so dramatic with his pondering

“It says that you’re going to give me five dollars,” Jacob smiled, flipping over a five of hearts. 

You rolled your eyes and slapped his back gently, “I’ll give you a five-star instead.”

“I’ll take that,” Jacob laughed.

He walked you to your classes and would even sit by you in the classes you did have together

Bella came by again after a while and asked about Jacob

“He’s not… he’s not really talking to me, right now,” she began. “Do you know why? Did he say anything?” 

You knew why…

From Jacob’s unsubtle heart-eyed staring at Bella…

The first tarot reading… 

Him asking to forget about Bella

All the times he bit back his tears as he sat with you for tea

You wanted to let him answer for his own, but you didn’t want to leave him out to dry

“He just said he needed some time. That’s all, Bella.” You tilted your head a bit, “Besides, aren’t you dating Edward?” 

Bella shifted awkwardly and then shrugged, “Yeah… but I just wanted to talk to him.” 

“He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.” You nodded. 

“He’s my friend first, you know. I know him better,” Bella insisted. 

You didn’t want to entertain her comment. You just shrugged. “Okay.” 

She left without saying anything else

You told Jacob when he came by later, and he tensed

“I think you could try to talk to her, Jake,” you said as you slid a cup of lotus flower tea over to him. “It might help you heal. Get the answer you need.” 

Jacob sighed and tapped his nail against the ceramic. “Maybe. But I don’t have much confidence that she’ll say what she needs.” 

“And what do you think she needs, Jake?” You joined him with a cup of chrysanthemum tea in your hands. 

He looked at you and smiled softly, “A good friend and a cup of tea to really talk things over.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face. 

Jacob gently touched your ankle with his socked toe. “And what I need right now is to study for my calc exam. And I would like your big brain to help me with it.” 

“Way to kill the mood, Jake,” you rolled your eyes, but flipped your notebook open. 

You and Jacob were only ever found together after that

If someone wanted to get Jacob, they’d ask for you, and vice versa

Jacob became a second figure in your shop, and you joked about being too poor to pay him, but you still did anyway

He would immediately spend it on buying you lunch or tea

Jacob stopped mulling over Bella so hard and was able to talk about her without any tension in his voice

When Bella and Edward announced their marriage, Jacob asked you to come with him

You wore matching outfits, and he danced with you all night long

He didn’t stop staring at you the entire night, just smiling even brighter than you’d ever seen him, and it wasn’t even his wedding

You gave Jacob another tarot reading on the roof of your shop/home under the glow of the full moon

His reading: Judgement, heirophant, the tower, the Devil, the Moon, and the hermit

“You feel like you are at the end of an era, but you shouldn’t feel sad about it. You should be happy,” you began. 

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever felt,” Jacob replied in a quiet whisper, leaning closer to you. 

“You want to have someone around to confide in. And you feel like this person can help you with some upcoming moral issues…” You looked at him carefully. “Are you gonna… stab someone?” 

“I’m more classy than that,” Jacob rolled his eyes. 

You laughed, and his smile only grew more. You pointed to the tower, “Well… these moral issues may be tied to what you’re scared of… That your world is falling apart and there will be a huge battle or a change.” 

He curled around you tighter, almost shielding you now from the cold winds. 

“But there is a possibility of permanence. It could be in a relationship or a decision. And if it’s a decision to give up something bad, you should take it.”

“But be wary,” you pointed to the Moon, “You have fears and anxieties holding you back… and be careful of people who may charm you to take advantage of you.” 

“That’s where you come in, right?” Jacob asked, his warm breath tickling your cheek. 

“Yeah, I’ll fight someone for you. You’ll bail me out, right?” You asked. 

“I know a guy who knows a guy, and he happens to be a police officer,” Jacob nodded. 

“Sweet,” you laughed. “And your last card: the Hermit… you may want to be alone to get some introspection and reflection.” 

Jacob hummed softly, but he didn’t stop leaning on you. You sighed in contentment. He was like a portable space heater. 

“Maybe I don’t want to be alone tonight…” he whispered. 

You leaned against him, fully reclining against his broad back. “Then I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

[treeteaofversailles]

Heh… 🌰 🥜

I was already laughing when I read the first part when Zayne replied to Greyson. I thought Zayne was calling Greyson “Clopidogrel’s relative: Ticagrelor”.

Ticagrelor 🐿️ = Greyson 🥼

And then in one of the options for my response, Zayne talks about nuts 🌰 in a mouth and that made me giggle harder.

I’m very mature. I swear

[treeteaofversailles]

I got it :D!

I keep seeing posts of the LIs posting the wedding pictures after a portrait or snapshot… and Zayne hasn’t done that once for me…

Is there a limit to it or a specific pose? I’ve tried it all… 🥲 😢

[treeteaofversailles]

Oh, Bite Me… Part Two: The Time He Succeeded…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Five times he tries to get his roommate, Vampire!Reader, to bite him. The one time he succeeds. Another time you get lucky ;)

Tags/TW: smut, biting, blood, spanking, hair pulling. Rafayel being Rafayel, Fem!Vampire!Reader. OMG they were roommates (good edition). Sexual tension then the sex. Rafayel spanks you and pulls your hair. You’re a little mean to Rafayel and then Rafayel is a little mean to you (but it’s sexy ha ha…). No vampirism during the smut, too much is happening and it’ll become a crime scene.

Parts:  Part One: The Five Times He Tried… |

A/N: Here’s a Rafayel…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You just stared at Rafayel, on his knees with the biggest puppy eyes that the man could muster, and then sighed. 

With the words: “Close the blinds.” You sealed your fate. 

He leapt to his feet and eagerly watched as you undid your trench coat and draped it over the back of the loveseat. 

You walked over to him, loosening your tie and undoing the first few buttons of your dress shirt. Your eyes were locked on his, and under the moonlight, you could see his blushing face. 

You put one knee on the couch between his legs and tilted his chin up with your fingers. “Are you sure you want this?”

Rafayel nodded eagerly. “More than anything.” He shuddered. 

You just stared at him some more before you took his jaw in your hand. You turned his head and edged your lips close to his neck. You let your lips skate over his skin and felt the tremor of his pulse point. 

He smelled so nice. His cologne never fails to make your knees buckle, even if you adamantly act like it doesn’t drive you crazy. 

“Your neck is so pretty,” you couldn’t help but whisper. You heard his breath hitch. “I really don’t want to ruin it,” you traced your fingers down the side of his neck, causing his pulse to stutter wildly. 

Rafayel choked on a moan. “Cutie, please.”

“Relax,” you repositioned yourself so you were straddling his lap, “Just relax.” 

You planted your mouth on the lower junction of his neck and shoulder. 

Upon contact, Rafayel trembled even more, his heart racing way too fast to be considered safe for bloodletting. 

You blindly pulled your hands over his body, feeling his lean muscles under your hands. The warmth of his body allowed a sense of ease to wash over you. You caressed his arms and sides to take his mind off the bite, just sitting there trying to get him to even out his breathing. 

When you felt his pulse even out, you bit him. Not much preamble was done to warn him. 

A deep, guttural moan blossomed from Rafayel and flooded the entire house. He grabbed onto your arms before he fumbled to your waist. 

His hands tightened on your waist as he moaned again. He broke into a whimper when he felt your tongue touch his neck. He kept gasping and moaning in such a soft, high-pitch sound that made your skin burn. 

He was burning up under you even as more blood flooded your mouth. 

You bit back your own sounds of pleasure and focused on the task at hand. 

You tried to ignore the moans and whines from him as you pulled your tongue along his skin to catch the stray blood. You ignored the whimper that he let out and the way he pulled you in when you licked the wounds, sucking a little harder to get your fill. 

You ignored the heat blooming raspily in your core, fueling a desire that went beyond bloodlust. You ignored the way your hips suddenly jolted to roll against his. 

You ignored the growing bump nestled tight against your trousers. 

You tried to ignore the saccharine sweetness flowing into your mouth. It was just blood. You’ve fed so many times before on many blood types. His… His—Rafayel’s—was a new euphoric addiction you were sure was only befitting of the ichor of the gods. 

You took a small mouthful before you finally retracted your fangs and gently sucked on the puncture wounds. You ignored the gesture, reminiscent of a lover’s kiss. 

You cut yourself off early. You only gave him the satisfaction of the bite. 

You weren’t going to drain the poor guy. You needed to find a blood bank to get the amount you needed to recover. 

You unlatched your teeth and ran your tongue over the new wounds. You pushed back and wiped your mouth with your thumbs, licking them clean. 

Rafayel’s face was flushed a deep pink hue and his eyes dark with how blown out his pupils had become. His mouth was open in a soft “o” as he panted harshly. 

He was breaking into desperate whimpers and clutching onto you so tightly, his nails scratching up your exposed skin where he managed to undo your shirt from your trousers. 

Rafayel held you closer while he was shuddering and panting, and his words pinched off in a strained moan. 

“You okay?” You pulled his hand from your waist and pressed your fingers to his wrist. You flipped your sleeve back and stared at your watch closely. 

He’s still alive. 

Rafayel blinked a few times and then looked at you. A big, dopey smile grew on his face, and he took your hand in his. 

“Never felt more alive. A little dizzy,” he admitted before he smiled, “But super turned on.”

“Of course you’d be,” you shook your head. You still tasted his blood. You didn’t want to dwell on his flavor. You’d get addicted and need more and more from him until he had nothing left to give. 

You wiped your mouth and grabbed a bunch of tissues from the nearby table. You pressed it to his wound, and he winced. 

You cracked a smile at that and got off his lap. “This is just a one-time thing.”

“But I don’t mind doing this,” Rafayel protested, already recovering enough energy to whine at you. 

You leaned over him, placing your hand on the back of the couch. “I know,” you didn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek and whispered in his ear, “But I like you still alive and warm.”

You pulled back and were about to leave when he took your wrist. Rafayel pulled you down again, and you stumbled back into his lap. You carefully avoided his still-hard erection tenting in his pants. 

“Can I kiss you?” Rafayel whispered, his eyes locked on your lips, lightly stained in his gore.  

Your eyes flicked down to his lips and then back at his shameless eyes. 

Your stomach was fluttering wildly, and the arousal bloomed again between your legs. Especially when you remembered the sounds that he had been making when you took his blood. You wanted to do more than just kiss. 

But you swallowed thickly and took his hand off your arm, placing it on the couch again. You reached up and fixed his glasses, moving to hold his cheeks, “You’ve lost blood, and you’re not thinking correctly.” 

You got off his lap, using his lightheadedness against him, “I’ll be right back. Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m away,” You said. 

“Okay,” he said breathlessly. His eyes were glued to you as you began to leave.

You got up and hurried to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of coconut water, a straw, and the protein bar he liked. 

You returned and fed him, holding the tissues against his neck with one hand and the carton with the other. 

His hands were busy running along your sides and smoothing up your back. 

“Just rest. And then I’ll help you to your room,” You said. 

“What do I do with my boner?” Rafayel asked. Your eyes flicked down quickly, the very large and very present issue at hand. 

“Use your hands. I’m not doing anything to you while you’re not all there,” you replied simply. 

He pouted, “So if I asked you to bite me during sex…”

“Absolutely not. Too much going on and you’ll bleed out with your rapid heart rate,” You said. 

Rafayel huffed and ate the bar quietly. “So, what got you to change your mind?”

You shrugged. “I just decided to do it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You’re the first person I’ve ever taken blood from like this. Usually it’s in blood bags or I find animals to satiate my appetite.”

“So I’m your first?” Rafayel beamed. 

“In a sense. Yes.”

He looked so happy at that that you couldn’t help but snort a laugh at his expression. You shook your head and sat back on the couch. 

“You’re weird.”

“Thanks,” Rafayel chirped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @butlereyepatchbunny, @noxus123

[treeteaofversailles]

This was so cute ><!!! ❤️ 💘

Heart Shot

₊⊹Synopsis: It started as a coping mechanism — a secret, anonymous flirtation you expected to burn out with the help of a pink bow and silly notes. But every arrow you fire lands closer to something real — and the man you thought was untouchable suddenly isn’t dodging anymore.

₊⊹Pairing: Zayne x Nurse! Reader

₊⊹Content: lots of fluff, pre-relationship fluff, hospital romance, written with female reader in mind, second hand embarrassment, mild archer! Zayne, silly people in love.

₊⊹Word Count: 2.7k

₊⊹Now playing: Cupid by FIFTY FIFTY

₊⊹Notes: Formerly titled 'Bullseye'. Just woke up to see I had hit 400 followers this morning and in celebration of that, I'm releasing my first ever fic of Zayne. Hopefully everybody enjoys it ♥

As one of the most seasoned nurses in the cardiac wing, you’d long since earned the trust of even the most demanding surgeons. Battle-tested in emergencies and headstrong in crisis, you were a pillar of calm in the chaos of the OR. But nothing — nothing — had prepared you for the battle that was raging in your chest: a hopeless, all-consuming crush on none other than the head cardiac surgeon himself, Dr. Zayne.

He was brilliant, reserved, maddeningly unbothered by the flurry of emotion that seemed to ripple through everyone else whenever he entered a room. You had worked alongside him for years, and while others found his cold, clinical demeanor off-putting, you somehow saw the warmth that flickered beneath it.

You prided yourself on the professional companionship you shared with him — mutual respect, shared jokes on occasion, the rare but treasured smiles he allowed himself when you said something that genuinely amused him.

Which made your recent blunder all the more mortifying.

During a high-stakes mitral valve repair just a few days ago, you had done the unthinkable. You were assisting Zayne, as you had many times before, and everything was running smoothly. Until he said, “Clamps.”

But instead of responding with your usual efficiency, your eyes were glued onto his hands. More specifically, the veins beneath the taut latex of his gloves. Your body reacted a second too late and the clamps slipped from your grasp and hit the sterile floor with a horrifying clink. You scooped them up in a panic and offered them anyway, and watched as the whole OR froze.

Zayne didn’t take them. Instead, he looked at you with such sheer incredulity that you instantly recalled every page of your surgical instrument sterilization manual in horrifying detail.

“That’s contaminated,” he said icily from behind his surgical mask, not even looking at you — just through you.

Your brain, fueled by pure shame and meme culture, offered the only response it could muster: “Um… five-second rule?”

Later, in his office, he let you have it. Not with shouting, of course. Zayne never did shouting. He did disappointment. And he was very good at it. After a solid ten-minute monologue on sterility protocols and ‘having expected better from someone with your experience,’ you left his office to crawl back into the earth.

You avoided him after that. You rerouted your coffee breaks and volunteered for shifts that didn't have him. You stayed alert just in case you got a transfer notice, which, fortunately, you didn't.

But avoiding Zayne only made your feelings boil hotter under the surface. You needed an outlet, something to release the idiotic affection swirling inside your ribcage. And that’s how you — an educated, credentialed nurse — ended up ordering a hot pink plastic Cupid bow and arrow set online at 2:12 a.m.

It arrived the next day: neon pink, the arrows tipped with heart-shaped suction cups, and laughably dramatic. It was a viral gag gift, popular with people who liked playing Cupid on social media. Except you had taken it a step further.

You wrote little anonymous notes with compliments, sweet nothings, medical pick-up lines and rolled them up, taping them to the arrows. Then you smuggled the toy into the hospital and hid it in your locker in the break room.

Your plan? Ambush Zayne by firing one arrow per day until your dignity or your license gave out. Either he’d laugh (hopefully), report you to HR (realistically), or — by some divine miracle — be touched by your ridiculous display of affection and fall madly in love with you (good jokes). Your feelings needed to go, and you figured nothing would kill romantic delusion faster than mortifying yourself with humiliating public displays of nonsense.

Day one

It was a crisp Tuesday morning at the hospital, the kind where the scent of antiseptic still clung thickly in the air from the early shift’s rigorous cleaning. The morning meeting had just ended, and like a tide retreating, doctors and residents poured out of the conference room in clusters, their footsteps echoing against the linoleum as they dispersed to their respective duties. The fluorescent lights above buzzed softly, and the sun streamed through the high windows in thin, filtered beams, casting a tired glow across the sterile white floors. The air smelled of antiseptic and fresh paper, tinged faintly with over-brewed coffee from the break room down the hall.

You stood tucked behind a concrete pillar near the east hallway, your back pressed flat against the cool surface, heart thundering. You could feel the absurd shape of the toy bow poking into your hip from under your scrubs where you'd awkwardly shoved it sometime ago to sneak it with you. The arrows, with their bright pink foam hearts, stuck out of your jeans pocket and you pulled your scrubs tighter to hide them.

You peeked around the edge of the beige support pillar you were currently using as camouflage, your breath caught halfway between a prayer. The hallway was almost empty now, save for the subject of your ridiculous affection, standing in the middle of it.

Zayne stood with one foot slightly turned out, clipboard in hand, jade eyes focused on the patient chart in front of him. His dark hair was slightly tousled in that infuriatingly perfect way, his lab coat flaring just a little at the back like he’d walked off a medical drama set.

You glanced around, eyes darting to make sure no one else was around. The coast was clear. He was engrossed in whatever file he was reading, completely unaware of what was about to happen.

From behind the pillar, you fumbled with the bow. It squeaked when you pulled back the string. Of all the props in all the stores in the world, you had to pick the one that squeaked. Your fingers, steady as steel in surgery, trembled now like they’d never known stability. You nocked the arrow with shaky fingers, adjusting the rolled-up pink sticky note you'd attached earlier.

“Okay, just center it… gently. Like placing a suture,” you whispered to yourself. A little pep talk.

Your hands were slick with nervous sweat. You held your breath. You had no archery training. Your only reference point was seeing some of the Deepspace hunters having a bow as their choice of weapon and firing it at the wanderers that had once invaded Akso Hospital. You aimed — or attempted to — for his heart.

The arrow veered slightly to the right, missed Zayne’s heart by a good foot and a half, and stuck squarely to the back of his clipboard. You gasped — then immediately ducked back behind the pillar, flattening yourself against it like a character in a cartoon, chest heaving.

Peeking out with one eye, you saw him pause his reading and slowly tilt the clipboard towards himself to inspect the pink projectile now suctioned firmly to its back. He glanced around, likely trying to identify the source of it but found none. He peeled the pink sticky note off with a neutral expression, unrolled the note deliberately, and read it.

You watched from the shadow of the pillar as his eyes scanned the words. The line of his brow eased and then one eyebrow rose by just a millimetre. A reaction so subtle it might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else. But not by you.

And that was all the information you could process before the adrenaline got the better of you and you took off — straight down the hallway, hurried footsteps, cheeks aflame, the bow clutched to your chest like you’d just committed some sort of crime.

You didn’t stop running until you were safely back in the break room, where you shoved the bow, slammed your locker shut, leaned back against it, and gasped for breath like you’d just finished a marathon.

Day two

You’d been on your feet for hours — morning rounds, a consultation, two new admissions. You weren’t on a break, not technically, but your last task had wrapped up ten minutes early, and that meant only one thing in your world now: it was time for the next attempt. Most of your colleagues were either in their departments or catching a quick snack before the next round of patient visits. You were just returning after restocking supplies when you spotted Zayne.

He was standing at the water cooler near the far wall, just off to the side of the hallway, his back half-turned to the corridor. It was a quiet spot, mostly out of view. He had his lab coat sleeves pushed up, and he was leaning slightly forward as he pressed the little plastic lever and filled his paper cup. You hated how effortlessly attractive he looked doing nothing.

You felt your fingers twitch.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you doubled back towards the break room, pulled open your locker, and took out the bow and arrow set hurriedly. You grabbed one of the arrows and checked if the little rolled-up note you’d stuck on it earlier was properly sticking to it.

You found a spot near the corner where a big decorative plant provided enough cover. Thankfully, today’s chosen target zone was a less dramatic setting than yesterday’s corridor. You crouched down slightly, gripping the bow like you were trying to remember how human hands were supposed to work.

You loaded the arrow, biting your lip as you adjusted your grip. You had practiced a little more since yesterday — nothing formal, just a few shots in your apartment before your cat had attacked the dangling heart-shaped arrow and nearly broken your kitchen lamp.

Your plan for today was simple: aim for the cooler. Hit the wall just above it. Let the arrow bounce off near him with enough proximity that he would notice, but not enough to actually hit him.

You pulled back the string and let go. And the arrow zoomed off-course and smacked him square on the forehead. You instantly ducked back behind the plant, hands over your mouth, struggling not to burst out laughing.

Zayne blinked. The water cup in his hand wobbled slightly, and for a second, you thought it might tip over. He reached up, peeled the arrow off with a confused look on his face, and stared at it like it had just dropped from another dimension. He was reading the note now, his jade eyes trailing along the lines. You saw his mouth twitch, the corners of his lips quirking up. Not a full smile — more like the idea of a smile. It was the kind of expression someone makes when they’re trying very hard not to react, and they’re mostly failing. And then — he exhaled through his nose and shook his head once, walking back to his office with the little note and the arrow in hand.

You crouched lower behind the plant. There was a stupid grin on your face and your body was tingling in a weirdly giddy way. You waited a few more minutes before standing up and walking in the opposite direction.

Day after day, arrow after arrow, you let your absurd plan unfold. Each time, his reactions thawed another layer of his carefully guarded composure. You continued, a few arrows here and there — his locker, the break room, once even mid-presentation at the weekly surgical review meeting. Each time, he reacted the same way: unreadable at first, then just the faintest sign of amusement that fanned the foolish little flame in your chest. You’d catch him pocketing the notes as if filing them away for future diagnosis.

Then came today.

It was midnight when you finally found a pocket of free time. The patient charts had been signed, your shift duties temporarily in check. That’s when you decided for another strike. You knew Zayne had a short gap between procedures, and his office light had been on earlier. You’d been watching the hallway casually from the small corner where supply cabinets broke the line of sight. His shadow had passed by the frosted window in his office door twice since. You figured he was standing, maybe reading something, or maybe pacing.

Your plan was simple: Aim for the center of Zayne’s office door. Not his head, not his arm, not any part of him directly — just the door. You’d seen the shadow inside. He’d be coming out soon. You just needed the arrow to land when he would exit, let him notice it and make him smile again.

You nocked an arrow, tongue poking out in concentration, aiming for the center of his door. So focused were you on your target, you didn’t notice the soft footfalls approaching from behind — until you felt a warm hand wrap around your waist and another slide over your hand on the bow — just firmly enough to freeze you in place. The contact startled you so hard you nearly dropped the bow.

Zayne was right behind you, half-embracing you, correcting your form as if this were a shooting range and not a hospital hallway. His gaze was fixed forward, his tone calm and maddeningly unaffected.

“Your stance is off,” he said, voice low, like he didn’t want it to echo. His breath ghosted across your cheek as he pulled your body back against his. “You’re pulling too much with your fingers, not your back.”

You felt him ease you back just a little, accurately aligning your posture. His chest brushed lightly against your back, his arm sliding along yours to adjust your hold on the bowstring. His fingers were warmer than expected, calloused from years of surgical work, but the touch was careful, like he didn’t want to startle you more than he already had.

He deliberately adjusted your elbow with his hand and pulled your upper arm slightly back so the arrow sat straighter. The door to the office opened just then. You felt him release your hand. The arrow launched and landed with a splat on the forehead of Greyson, your colleague, who had just emerged from Zayne’s office.

There was a brief pause, followed by a loud “What the hell?” from Greyson as he struggled to peel the arrow off.

You couldn’t even laugh, too mortified by the presence beside you to do so. The shadow in the office had been Greyson — not Zayne. You shrank into yourself immediately, lowering the bow, trying to form some apology, but your brain had turned into static. You felt him step away from you. You expected him to walk away, or worse — scold you with that same sharp tone he’d used back in his office after the surgery clamp incident. But instead, he reached for the bow in your hands and took it gently.

Then, to your complete confusion, he picked up one of the remaining arrows from your quiver, dug into his coat pocket, and pulled out a blue sticky note. He didn’t say anything. He just wrote something, rolled it carefully, and stuck it to the arrow. Then he stepped in front of you, lifted the bow, and with a slow, deliberate shot — fired it directly at you.

The arrow landed cleanly on your chest, just above your heart.

You plucked it off gently, fingers fumbling slightly as you unrolled the blue note.

“Ever wondered what kind of combination archery lessons and freshly brewed tea might make?”

You stared at the handwriting for a second longer than necessary. Your heart dropped to your stomach and rose again in the same breath. You looked up at him — your face no doubt a disaster of color and disbelief.

He met your eyes for the first time fully, without avoiding or glazing over. There was a subtle lightness in the way he stood now, something more relaxed than usual. He was smiling — really smiling now. That slow, knowing curve of the lips that you’d never seen aimed at anyone else. He looked like a man who had been aware all along and was finally, finally joining the game.

Your voice came out softer than you intended. “I’d… love to know more about that.”

His smile deepened. “Friday. After your shift.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you speechless in the hallway, an arrow in your hand and a rapidly accelerating heartbeat in your chest.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[treeteaofversailles]

Plz 🙏

ଘ( ･ω･)_/ﾟ･:*:･｡☆

may the sea breeze guide the beach babies to find his way home to you girlies °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[treeteaofversailles]

Abyssal Chaos - Final Farewell with Rafayel, God of Tides

I wasn’t paying much attention while clicking through the dialogue for the encounter, but then I saw the stranger mention “your father”.

Maybe it’s just the strange person acting “strange” as per his name, but given MC’s backstory, hearing another person mention more family beyond Granny and Caleb, I thought it was a bit peculiar

[treeteaofversailles]

Im reading your vampire raf fic (loving the concept) but the tags don't seem to match the content? Not sure if Tumblr accidentally ate part of it

Oh yeah! I was wondering if I should change that before posting, but it’s for the upcoming parts.

I just decided to keep the tags the same throughout the entire thing just for my convenience.

[treeteaofversailles]

O_• Self-Aware!Zayne

I was messing around with the emojis in Zayne’s chat and then he told me to uncross my legs. I was just taken aback because I was already sitting like that.

It was pretty funny.

[treeteaofversailles]

Oh, Bite Me… Part One: The Five Times He Tried…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Five times he tries to get his roommate, Vampire!Reader, to bite him. The one time he succeeds. Another time you get lucky ;)

Tags/TW: smut, biting, blood, spanking, hair pulling. Rafayel being Rafayel, Fem!Vampire!Reader. OMG they were roommates (good edition). Sexual tension then the sex. Rafayel spanks you and pulls your hair. You’re a little mean to Rafayel and then Rafayel is a little mean to you (but it’s sexy ha ha…). No vampirism during the smut, too much is happening and it’ll become a crime scene.

A/N: Here’s a Rafayel…

Parts: Part Two: The Time He Succeeded

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Gosh,” he sighed and unbuttoned his shirt, “I hope no vampires bite me! That’d suck! Being bitten by a vampire, that is,” Rafayel bemoaned as he kept unbuttoning his shirt and tugging down at the fabric to reveal more of his long neck. 

“Boy, I sure do hope no vampires are waiting to come out and bite me while my neck is so open and exposed like this,” Rafayel lamented and let his shirt fall to reveal more of his chest. “I’d sure hate to have that happen!” he sighed deeply and draped himself all over the couch. He batted his eyes at you and stretched himself out so his shirt became untucked from his pants and revealed a small section of his toned stomach. 

You stared at him with your arms crossed over your chest and an unamused expression on your face. “Get the fuck out of my house,” you threw your bag at his face and walked away from him. 

Rafayel caught it and sat up. “This is my house too!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no!” He threw open the windows. 

“I sure hope no vampires come in here!” He threw the silk gown behind him like a cape and revealed his thighs. 

“That would be so terrible!” He turned on the lamp and the words: “You’re super duper invited in!” Lit up on the wall. 

“Oh my goodness! The horror!” Rafayel draped himself over the couch under the open window. 

“Rafayel, you’re letting the mosquitoes in,” You said as you closed the front door. “And I’m civilized enough to use the front door.”

“Yeah, but it'll be super hot if you just floated through the window,” Rafayel said, sitting up and closing the window. 

He then sat back, crossing one leg over the other and letting the silk robe he stole from your closet fall off his shoulders and reveal his, admittedly, beautifully toned chest. 

“But I sure hope that some beautiful vampire doesn’t come by and bite me. That a certain vampire that happens to be my bodyguard doesn’t sweep by and mark me with your teeth.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed nearly half a century of your life away. “Nice try, Rafayel.”

He pouted but fixed the robe anyway. “Aw, man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Scientists find that vampire bats French kiss with mouthfuls of blood to deepen social bonds,” Thomas read off his phone screen. 

“I need to get something,” Rafayel shot up from his desk. 

“Sit down before I hurt you,” You snapped instantly. 

“What? You’ll bite me?” Rafayel sniped at you. 

“I’m not going to turn you, Rafayel,” You glared. 

“I never said I wanted to get turned into a vampire,” he raised his eyebrow.

Your face slowly got hot as you realized the other implication. “Just sit the fuck down,” You said through gritted fangs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Rafayel, look out!” You yanked him back from the Wanderer sprinting at you by Rafayel’s belt and scooped him up onto your arm. 

You drew your gun and shot at the Wanderer. It exploded in brilliant blue sparks. 

You looked at Rafayel. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “Are you alright, Rafayel?” You asked. 

“Do I weigh anything to you?” He asked breathlessly.

You looked at how you were holding him. Your arm was wrapped under his thighs and he was about a foot off the ground. 

“Not really?” You admitted. “It’s like holding a couple of grapes.”

He kept staring at you with his mouth still dropped open from shock. You bit back your amusement and gently nudged his gaping mouth with the curl of your finger. 

He swallowed thickly as his eyes followed your every movement. You swore you saw stars in his gaze, and that made you finally break into a smile. 

“Come on, we’ve got more work to do.” You said. 

“Right, yeah,” he whispered. 

You put your gun away and were about to lead him out when Rafayel blurted out. 

“Please bite me!”

You dropped him instantly, but Rafayel landed gracefully on his feet. “No.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m so hungry…” you groaned. 

Rafayel shot up instantly and ripped his shirt over his head. “I volunteer!”

You froze at the sight of your roommate suddenly shirtless and throwing himself at you. Your eyes flicked down to his chest and down further to his abs before you dragged them back up to meet his eyes. 

Rafayel’s eyes were blazing with pure excitement and enthusiasm. 

You—in your past millennium of living—have never met anyone so eager to be bitten as Rafayel. There were some people here and there who were intrigued but never interested to the point of absolute obsession. 

You were slightly relieved to have ran into Rafayel only in the last decade. You didn’t know how much longer you could tell him “no” if you’d known him in the past century. 

“I can—!”

You cracked open a blood bag and drank it like a yogurt pouch while watching him carefully. “No.”

[treeteaofversailles]

The Water is Fine

I’ve been listening to this song:

I’m imagining Rafayel and MC singing it together.

That’s it.

[treeteaofversailles]

Zayne's glasses

I was doing the sleep mode in quality time with Zayne and poked his cheek. One of his dialogue things is that he keeps his glasses under his pillow.

As someone who wears glasses, I was mentally scolding Zayne about potentially breaking his glasses.

But then I remembered he's a cardiac surgeon, so he's rich. And then I thought of Tenya Iida with his huge collection of glasses.

Now I can't stop thinking about Zayne being like Iida and having a huge collection of back up glasses. Still a little peeved that he has them under his pillow ):[

Honestly, maybe that's why he would have a collection in the first place...

[treeteaofversailles]

100 Days of LADs

As soon as Zayne said this, all I could think was Patrick’s response to SpongeBob: “Wait for you to get back.”