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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months

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do you write hypnosis stuff?? it's not specifically against the rules but idk it's kind of an iffy era for a lot of writers-

if it's okay with you, could you write some Vox x Singer!Reader who he uses his mind control on to sell their soul to him so they remain under the VoxTek label? (im sure remaining with him is an ulterior motive of his as well lol)

thanks :]

I can absolutely do that! I’m a little iffy about NSFW hypnosis, but I can do a SFW oneshot :)

siren songs

Obsessed!Vox x Singer!GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

WARNINGS: Yandere-ish behavior, hypnosis, manipulation, toxic behavior, all that good stuff

A/N: I told y'all I'd be back with some toxic Vox!! I wasn't entirely sure how to end this one, but I've spent enough time rewriting it to stop caring. This one is only romantic in theory - nothing actually romantic happens between Vox and Reader, it's more mutual pining than anything else This is also my first time writing obsessive behavior, so I hope I did it well!

Dividers

You’ve been working with the Vees for years now. You were originally recruited by Velvette, who’s like a bloodhound for new talent. She saw some popular videos of your singing online, and she made you famous.

But you don’t work with her that much, oddly enough. Over time, you gradually started to see her less and less. Vox was the one to take her place. By the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it—you’re certainly not an equal to the Vees, so there wasn’t much you could do. Sure, you could’ve quit then and there, as you’d never signed a soul-binding contract, but you really liked your job. You were getting to do what you loved for a living! Who wouldn’t want that?

Well, you. You don’t want that anymore. You’re getting burnt out. You feel like you’re out of creativity for writing songs, and singing no longer has the same appeal it used to. It feels like a chore. Getting on stage doesn’t get you excited—it just fills you with dread.

Then you saw the videos of the annual clown pageant down in the Greed Ring. How Fizzarolli, Mammon’s favorite little jester, just…quit. Just like that.

Can you do that?

You don’t have backup like Fizzarolli did. There’s no Prince of Hell to protect you if the Vees lash out in response to your resignation. But the Vees aren’t Mammon. They’re powerful Overlords, sure, but they wouldn’t kill off an easy cash grab like you. And they don’t have any leverage to use against you—you’re a fucking superstar, you learned to stop keeping secrets a long time ago.

Yeah, you can totally do this!

You spend the next week making a plan. You currently live in V Tower, so finding another living arrangement is a priority. Luckily, your standards are just as low as before you got famous, so snatching up an apartment doesn’t take long. You’ve been building up savings for some time now, just little bits here and there that wouldn’t look suspicious among your bank withdrawls, so you have enough money to last you a while. You’ve made a go-bag, but you’re not too worried about bringing anything with you, as you have enough cash to just buy new shit. By the time the end of the week comes around, you’ve got your escape plan ready to go. All that’s left is to actually quit.

You decide that directly speaking to Vox is your best option. Velvette and you don’t have the same rapport that you used to, and Valentino is just… no. During your time working with Vox, you like to think there’s some sort of friendship there. The two of you chat amicably, and he always makes sure you’re okay when it comes to creepy fans and the like. You feel like there could be something more than just friendship, but you don’t plan on staying long enough to find out. As much as you like Vox, you’re not willing to spend the rest of your afterlife hating every second of your job just for him.

You stand outside Vox’s lair, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation. You take a deep breath, and right before you can knock on the door, it opens.

Okay, here goes.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You aren’t as sneaky as you seem to think you are.

A normal boss wouldn’t have noticed the small transactions in your bank account, or the little trips you’ve been taking to go look at apartments. But Vox isn’t a ‘normal boss’ by any means. And he noticed.

From the moment Vox set eyes on you, he knew he wanted you. You’re beautiful, and fuck, your voice—he just can’t get you out of his damn head, no matter how hard he tries. And he really fucking tried. But he couldn’t avoid you, thanks to VoxTek being such an integral part of your performances. And you’re like a damn siren with that voice of yours, even though he’s supposed to be the hypnotizing one here. Eventually, he just gave in and accepted that he was more than a little obsessed with you. That’s why he started drawing you closer to him, pushing away Velvette and taking control of your brand. He doesn’t like sharing.

Obsession isn’t a particularly new feeling for Vox. He certainly has… tendencies. But this isn’t like whatever the fuck he’s got going on with that deer-headed, old-timey bastard Alastor. It’s not a lust thing, either. You’re certainly attractive, and Vox most definitely would sleep with you, but that’s not the main factor at play here. This is a deeper obsession than any of that bullshit.

Vox knows that he doesn’t own your soul. He’s well aware that he can’t truly stop you from quitting. Even if he managed to trap you inside V Tower, he can’t force you to keep up the performances. If he had you under a proper soul-binding contract, though…

He would own you.

Now, he’s not Valentino. He doesn’t plan to take that kind of advantage over you. He doesn’t want to change a damn thing. He just wants you to stay.

And he will make you stay.

He knows when you approach his office, and he opens the doors with the touch of a button on his desk. He plasters that casually perfect smile on his screen and turns to face you as you enter. The doors shut behind you.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, my dear,” he lies easily, the charismatic mask fitting into place like it was never absent in the first place. “How can I help you?”

You hesitate, your anxiety starting to get to you. But you’re determined to do this. You clear your throat and step forward. “I’m resigning.”

Vox’s smile doesn’t falter, nor does his screen glitch. His demeanor is…unnerving, to say the least. You’ve known him to be temperamental, emotional. You expected some kind of reaction. But he’s just smirking at you like he always does.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to change your mind,” he replies smoothly, tilting his head to the side just slightly.

“No,” you confirm, trying to sound confident in your answer. You’re not sure if you succeed. “I’ve already made my decision.”

Vox sighs, though he doesn’t sound very defeated. His smirk hasn’t gone away, either. “Well, then. It’s been a pleasure working with you, darling.”

He holds his hand out for you to shake. The gesture immediately worries you, as it’s the well-known sign of a deal. But you reassure yourself that there’s no deal being made here. Hell may be chaotic, but there’s rules when it comes to these kinds of things. Neither of you have offered anything, therefore there’s no harm in shaking his hand. It’s just a respectful gesture of a boss wishing their employee farewell. It all feels too easy, but you’re too relieved to think too hard about it.

You go to take his hand, but as you lift your head up to meet his gaze, everything goes fuzzy.

Vox grabs you by your wrist before you can shake his hand. He’s not rough with you. He’s careful of his claws, ensuring they don’t put too much pressure on your skin. Not that you’d notice, either way—your mind is far gone at this point, thanks to those spirals in his eye.

“In exchange for your soul, you’ll remain under the VoxTek label and continue working for me. Your work will remain the same as before. You’ll forget about leaving. You will want to stay here. You will want to stay here with me.”

A golden scroll appears out of thin air, and it floats in front of you as it unfurls. “Sign it.”

Your body moves on its own. You sign your name on the line at the bottom of the page.

Vox releases your wrist, and takes your hand in his own as his eye reverts back to its normal state. When you come to just moments later, he’s shaking your hand with calm professionality.

“I’m glad we got that sorted out,” Vox remarks smoothly, his smirk looking almost proud now. “I look forward to your next performance, my dear.”

You blink a few times as you become more lucid and aware. “Uh, yeah. Can’t wait!”

You smile, and Vox releases your hand, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You don’t remember what exactly you came in here for, but you’re happy with the outcome. “Perfect.”

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #the vees #gender neutral reader

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ceruark · 3 days

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i love you, it’s ruining my life

synopsis: the love of your life is engaged, and you foolishly show up to the celebration. notes: gn! reader x sunday. arranged marriage (not to you, sorry). angst. cw: light smut words: 1,273 inspiration: fortnight by taylor swift got me in a chokehold… a/n: oh to have sunday longing for you…

You shouldn't be here.

There's a number of things that sentence could mean. You shouldn't be here, attending the engagement party thrown for the head of the Oak Family. Here, in Golden Hour's finest ballroom, dressed in the outfit he loves to take off of you. Here, hidden away in one of the private rooms. Here, in Sunday's arms, fingers tangled in his hair while he steals kisses from your lips, drinking you in like he's just spent an eternity in the desert. Devouring you, because he knows it’s the last time he can.

They've wedded him off to an established actor from the Iris Family. Their face isn't plastered on billboards as much as Robin's is, but you've certainly noticed their increased presence in the media in the past few years. You've only met them once, at the entrance of the ballroom, hanging off of Sunday's arm and thanking you for coming. They seem nice enough.

The image of their smiling face flashes in your mind, and you shove at Sunday's chest weakly, more of a test to see how strong his will is than an actual signal for him to stop. In response, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer. His lips trail kisses down your cheek and jaw and settle at your neck. A slight gasp leaves you as he tugs your collar lower and sucks at the exposed skin. You grip at his hair and pull, unsure if you’re still testing his resolve or trying to find your own.

The Family had started their search for Sunday's partner two years ago. As was customary for the heads of families, potential suitors were carefully screened and selected based on the image the specific family head had to keep up. All of their selections for him had been the same: distinguished, elegant, and influential in one way or another. Any of them would have been perfect as his other half in the eyes of the public.

Only one of them resembles you in some way, and they're out in the ballroom, likely wondering where their fiance has disappeared to.

Sunday tugs at your top and looks up at you in silent question. You nod at him, and your resolve slips through your fingers in the same moment the piece of clothing slips through his. He moves his hands up to grasp your waist, and presses a kiss to your stomach before moving his face up to your chest. You move a hand away from his hair and use it to muffle a gasp when he bites down on the area, sucking the skin into his mouth. He presses a tender kiss to it after.

The Family had never considered you, or even looked your way. How could they? You were a Bloodhound, and not a noteworthy one at that. You were rough around the edges, too used to defending yourself against drunk patrons with a temper. Having grown up around hot-headed and boisterous individuals, you let your true self shine through unapologetically— the very thing that had drawn Sunday to you.

Lively, brutish, undignified. You're a fool for having ever believed you'd be his one and only.

He shifts his head slightly, and you jolt when you feel his tongue trail over your nipple. He lifts one of his ungloved hands up to the other side of your chest. You bite down on the back of your hand to muffle a moan when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, still sucking at the other one.

Sunday hadn't told you he'd gotten engaged; you had to find out through the news six months later like everyone else had. He'd taken you on twenty-six dates during your period of blissful ignorance. At the time, you idly wondered why the places he'd taken you to were so secluded and hidden from the public eye— more than usual, at least.

You were making small talk with Siobhan at Dreamjolt Holstery when you got the notification of the engagement on your phone. The betrayal stung; you knew it was coming, but you felt blindsided by the fact that he hadn't told you himself, as soon as he found out.

You got blackout drunk that night, and you hadn't spoken to Sunday since then, not until tonight. You didn't open any of his texts, threw the handwritten letters he sent you in a drawer, and avoided the places he and his sister frequented like the plague.

And when you stood at the ballroom entrance, greeting the happy couple, he spoke your name in that reverent tone he reserved for Xipe.

And when he caught you alone in a hallway and pulled you into one of the private rooms, you didn't stop him. You couldn't. You didn't want to.

You can't stop him, his devout love, your name rolling off his tongue in fervent prayer. You don't want to.

You shouldn't be here.

Shame crawls down your spine, and you shove at his chest, hard this time. He looks up at you, face twisted in confusion and desperation.

"Did I hurt you, angel?" He whispers, his lips and breath tickling your skin.

"You're going to hurt me." Your voice is hoarse, barely audible. "You're going to hurt them. They're kind. They don't deserve this."

He stares at you, and you turn away to study the intricate wallpaper, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. You move your hands down to gather your top and put it back into place.

Sunday catches you by the wrists, pulling himself up to meet your line of vision. He presses his lips against yours. It's everything and nothing all at once: tender and starved, lingering and fleeting. He barely parts, and you can feel the movement of his lips against yours when speaks.

"Please," he begs. "If I can't have you in the future, at least let me have you tonight."

Your heart aches. Tears prick at your eyes. "We shouldn’t be doing this."

"Please." He moves away, raising the back of your hand to his lips. "I need you."

"Sunday." Your voice catches on the last syllable of his name, and the first few tears slip out before you can stop them. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

A lifetime and silence and stillness passes between you before he finally pulls away. His fingertips graze your skin as he helps you put your top back on. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp as you comb through the tangles in his hair.

He reaches for his gloves, but pauses, hands hovering in the air for a moment. He ends up settling them on your cheeks, pulling you in for one more kiss. This one is soft and uncertain, just like the first was.

"I'm sorry."

You grit your teeth and blink against the tears. "It's not your fault." You pause, then add, "I'm happy for you."

The pain that flashes in his eyes has you regretting the words. He sighs and releases you, finally moving out of your way. You push yourself off the wall, keeping your eyes forward as you head for the door. Your hand lands on the knob, and you stop when you hear him call for you again.

He speaks so softly you almost miss it. "I love you."

It's the first time he's ever said it.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and you throw the door open, rushing out without glancing back.

In the vacant hallways, the joyous sounds of laughter and jazz reverberate off the walls. Tears roll down your face.

You shouldn't be here.

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr angst #hsr sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #hsr smut #ceru.writes #ceru.hsr #ceru.nsfw

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consistencynevermether · 2 months

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Winter Nights (Vere x gn!Reader) (Touchstarved)

content: verex reader, gender neutral reader, I tried to write this so any origin will work with this fic, SFW but Vere makes his usual jokes, cannon typical swearing, reader bullies Vere just the smallest bit but he does the same.

summary: Vere has a horrible day, not enjoying the ice-cold weather at all. you decide to help out your favorite sassy fox boy.

word count: 5.5k

A/N: In honor of us getting VERE LORE i made this little fic of him. ngl i just saw how much he hated snow and ran with it. im so obsessed w this bitch yall i love him sm.

Vere had had a shit day. In your first few weeks of arriving in Eridia you probably wouldn’t have noticed it. That demon Fox was notoriously good at hiding his feelings when he really wanted to. He'd misdirect your attention, complaining about how shitty the drinks are in the Wick when he was really upset about something else entirely. Something deeper he didn't want you to know about. Honestly, in the first few weeks here you probably didn't care much to know what he was upset about anyways, you were too busy trying to survive. But life in Eridia had settled down a bit after the first month or so. You had stable lodgings, you had picked up some odd jobs, using your specific set of skills to give yourself some income. You even had allies of sorts.

Leander had shown you the ropes of the cities and how to fit in with his Bloodhounds, Kuras had welcomed your assistance at the clinic (even if your help just amounted to laundry or organization), Ais enjoyed your occasional company in the red spring, and even Mhin had gifted you a well made dagger, their face blushing red as they insisted it was simply so you wouldn't be as useless as you had been that night they had met you. You'd even consider some of them almost friends now.

Yet out of all the characters you'd met since entering this city, Vere had been the one you had chosen to align yourself with in the quest to cure your curse. There was something dangerous beneath the surface of all of your new acquaintances, yet with Vere it was different. He knew more than he was letting on. He was more than he was letting on. Vain people like him usually loved to flaunt just how wealthy, powerful or clever they were, but he had always slyly dodged the topic. He was putting on an act, a performance where he was simply a beautiful face, and you knew it was bullshit. You’d be lying if you said curiosity was not a catalyst for choosing Vere as your closest companion, but you also had the sense that staying close to him was infinitely safer than opposing him. Something about keeping friends close and enemies closer.

But that was the other problem. Over these months, you saw Vere as less of an enemy and more like-

-Well, Saying friend was probably inaccurate. You kept your secrets close to your chest and Vere was far too fake with you for you to assume he trusted you. Yet, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He'd try to get a rise out of you by being an asshole and you'd reply with something snarky, clever, or just downright outrageous and Vere would let out a surprised bark of laughter. Real laughter, a high pitched guttural cackle, not like the fake laughter he uses around most, that breathless smooth chuckle you'd quickly figured out was fake as fuck.

Getting closer to Vere also meant learning things like that, when he was being fake or when he genuinely meant something. And although you'd never admit it, you loved that. Getting to know Vere better and getting rewarded with a real moment with him was like having a stray cat you'd been trying to get to trust you finally approach and sniff your hand before hissing and running off again. You knew that cat would be an asshole the next day, but you also know you'd be back the next day to see if you could get that cat to trust you a little more.

Though said cat (or more accurately fox) had been in a worsening mood recently. The months were getting colder, and when the first snowflake fell Vere’s scowl became more frequent, plus leander had been trying to get closer to you lately, and that man's mere presence could put Vere in a pissy mood for hours. You didn't quite understand his hatred for Leander, but you also had the feeling leander was just a little insane, so it might be genuinely good judgment on Veres part instead of him just being an ass to people for fun, like what he did with Mhin and Kuras. The real icing on the cake to complete Veres' bad mood was his hunting session that happened today. The Senobium had dragged him out at the crack of dawn to kill monsters and only loosened his leash late into the night, after the light snowfall had become more of a brutal sleet, the ice cold rain coming down in sheets. The temperature in Eridia always drops much lower in the nighttime, so by tomorrow you'd put money on the outside either being a slushy mess with ice coating every road, or be covered in a dusting of snow. Though you weren't too sure how likely either of those realistically were to occur, it was your first winter in Eridia. You hadn't even realized that you'd been here for so long the seasons had begun changing around you, but it was clear Vere had hated the colder months.

Your persistence in getting to know Vere, for reasons even you couldn't really explain, along with all these reasons, was why you knew he was going to be in the worst mood yet when he got back. You were by the bar, nursing some hot mulled wine when the door to the Wet Wick slammed open, Vere stomping in (probably to knock some of the slush off his boots and also because he was angry) and taking a seat at the bar next to you.

He didn't say a word to you, silently seething as he gave the bartender a silent look that meant “make this drink strong or i'll make your life miserable”.

Thankfully, the bartender was as reliable and quick on her feet as ever, ignoring Vere’s death glare but pouring him some non-watered down liquor. You were ever grateful for her ability to deal with the people of this city.

Veres' long scarlet hair was slightly plastered to his cheek, wet and freezing, with snow and sleet mixed in, tangling the long strands. You wagered a quick look at his tail, and it was just as bad, if not worse. A bit of mud had caked on the bottom of it, along with the blood of whatever monster they had had him hunting that evening. And the fine fur was drenched to the bone. He looked absolutely horrible, and hadn't said a word to you the entire time, just bitterly drinking his liquor and motioning for another pour.

That's how you knew this bad day was different from the rest. Usually when Vere was upset he'd let you know somehow. Whether it was turning up his nose at you to let you know your presence isn't wanted nor needed, or sometimes he'd rant for hours on how much he hated the Senobium or whatever else was bothering him. And no matter how mad he was, he'd never let you see him in such a disheveled state. It was hard for you to remember even a handful of times where Vere looked less than perfect.

But now? Looked like an absolute mess, and even stranger, he was just-

-just quiet really. If you didn't know better you'd almost think he was a little defeated. Like a person at their breaking point.

You couldn't help but feel sympathetic. Not too long ago you had felt that way, the face he wore now was like the one you wore on the caravan on the way to Eridia reminiscing about how you were betrayed, how your former life and everything you had up until that point was basically nothing but ashes now. It was not a good feeling.

You wanted to do something to help. For some reason you really wanted to do something to help. Luckily you had an idea. Well, hopefully luckily. You knew people who looked like that usually wanted to be left alone to seeth for a while. Or cry, depending on the person. But you wanted to help. If he didnt like it, then he could always leave, it's not like you'd force him to accept your help.

While he sipped what must have been his 3rd or 4th strong drink, you quietly slipped upstairs to your room, and began filling up the tub. A while back you had splurged and purchased a small mesh bag of a few bathing items, all of them lavender scented. You dumped them out to see what exactly you had to work with

A small bar of lavender soap

A single vial of Lavender bath salts

Some lavender hair oils

Lavender shampoo

And a small white comb, most likely made of some mid tier material, enough to do its job, but nothing stunning. This seemed like a passible amount of stuff for Vere right? You knew he was fancy and he probably had much higher quality items in greater amounts back wherever he lived, and what if-

Wait a damn minute. You were doing this out of the kindness of your frickin heart. If it wasn't nice enough for his stuffy ass then you'd just use the items yourself. Hell you already were a bit disappointed you didn't get to use this stuff yourself, more for you if he decided he didn't like it.

With that settled in your mind, you turned towards the now full tub and a smaller basin next to it, both filled with clear water, and began to use a simple spell to heat the water. Almost all humans had some potential to learn magic, and being able to heat water to steaming hot was an extremely basic magic, almost anyone could perform it if they knew what to do. You finished it off by pouring the bath salts into the tub and grabbing two towels out from your closet, one large one and one suited for drying hair, and laid them to the side along with the assortment of small lavender products you had gotten out. You then lit a few candles set on the sink, considering it was dark outside, and candles were now the only source of light in the bathroom. With that prepared and the bath still steaming hot, you headed back down to the tavern.

Vere was still there, still drinking some strong amber liquid. At least he was no longer shooting them back, but instead nursing the drink with slow sips. He was definitely at least a little buzzed, judging by the way he slightly tilted off the barstool.

You walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Vere. Hey Vere, are you still with me? Or are you more drunk than you look?”

The fox glared up at you for a second before he fixed his scowl, a look of boredom and slight amusement painted on his pretty face in an instant.

Fake bitch.

“Well, well, well. Here to keep me company now? I'll be honest, my standards are lowering with every glass I down, so keep trying and maybe you'll get lucky.” a lecherous smirk spread across his face as he spoke.

Sigh. he was so going to take this the wrong way.

“Lets go to my room”

“W-” Vere momentarily stumbled over his response. Probably only because he was drunk. Any other time and he would have absolutely dominated this situation easily, poking and preening about how you were not immune to his charms. And yet up till now he didn’t think you were the type to fall for his flirty act so easily.

And he was right, you were smarter than that. If you hadn't been he probably would have killed you by now.

“Hey.” you practically scolded. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Not for those reasons. Come on, up we go.” you said while grabbing his elbow gently to steady him as he got off the stool, just in case.

Mercifully, he let you lead him upstairs without complaint, probably out of curiosity on what the hell you were thinking.

When you opened the door to the bathroom, Vere was momentarily stunned looking at the steaming bath, but quickly put two and two together. It seemed this unexpected scenario had sobered him up a little bit. He instantly became more alert and aware of his surroundings.

Fair. it's not like you two were very soft and caring to each other. If anything you got along best when you were trying to out-snark each other. This was definitely out of character. But regardless his mask of calm indifference didn't falter a bit.

“Oh I see” he drawled. “Set to join me in the nude aren't you? My goodness you could have just asked if you were this desperate to see me undress, I might have only made you beg a little.”

His smugness was palpable at this point. Why were you doing all this for him again? Bitch-ass sad soggy fox.

You pushed your annoyance to the side. If you reacted to his bullshit he'd get what he wanted.

“Actually yes I was planning on joining you. But not in the bath.” you responded.

“Oh? And what exactly are you planning on doing?” his questioning was genuine, as if he actually had no idea what you were thinking.

You held up the comb that came with the rest of the bath items you planned on using.

“I'm going to rip those knots out of your hair if it kills you.” you deadpanned.

The look of genuine fear on Veres' face for a split second when you said that was worth all the effort.

After assuring him that you wouldn't actually rip out any of his hair (on purpose at least) and then additional promises that you would be gentle, Vere finally relented and began to strip down. As soon as he did you turned around, waiting until you heard him submerge himself in the tub before turning back around. You knew he thought about making a comment about you turning around to let him undress, but thankfully he seemed too worn out to poke you any further.

He let out a slight gasp, and then sigh of contentment as he sank into the waters. When you had left to go fetch Vere from the bar the water was basically boiling, but it had cooled in the time it had taken you to get him up here, so it was just a little too hot to be perfect, but that meant a longer time in the warm water. Something Vere definitely needed, it was going to take a while to detangle and clean this mess.

You handed him the soap, then took the smaller basin and poured a gentle stream over his head before grabbing the shampoo and lathering it up into a froth in his hair. If there was one thing you had learned, it was how to make a little supply last a while, so you only used about half the small bottle on his hair, making sure to massage all the way down to his roots and ensuring every inch of dirt would be rinsed out. You also made a conscientious effort not to disturb the chains around his neck. Tonight was not the night to try to sneak a peek at them. Not that it would do much good with how low the lighting was in here.

True to your words, you tried to be gentle for the process, and you could feel Vere eventually relax under your touch, taking a break from scrubbing himself with the soap to lean back and close his eyes while you continued to work the shampoo into his hair. You were glad he was relaxed, but the last thing you needed was him falling asleep in the tub, especially after all the booze he'd had. You grabbed the basin and poured another stream of water on his head to wash out the shampoo, the water in the smaller container now closer to mildly warm than hot.

After the shampoo was out it was time for the oils. And the comb. As you Began to massage the oils in, you felt Vere tense up once again. It was like he was fighting between exhaustion and being on high alert. Was your presence really this stressful to him?

You leaned down right next to his velvety ears and tried to keep your voice as quiet and non-stress inducing as possible as you spoke.

“Hey. I promised I would be gentle. Relax” you whispered, the fur of his ears slightly brushing up against your lower lip as you spoke.

For some reason when you said that Vere went completely still for a second.

Seriously? Was your entire presence just so annoying to him that he absolutely could not relax around you? Honestly that felt a bit hurtful. You could be so nice when you wanted to! Just look at what you were doing for him now!

You shrugged off the sting of rejection at Veres discomfort at you and began to massage the oils into his hair.

First you gently felt out the knots with your bandaged fingers, taking care to rub the oils into each one and loosening the knot. Then you started to comb them out. Taking extra care to go slow and try not to tug too much, Vere eventually relaxed again and finished up using the bar of soap on his skin, saving his face for last so he could dunk his head under to rinse out the soap and hair oils in one go.

It took a hot second, but Veres' hair was smooth as silk once again. A selfish part of you wished you could run your fingers through it without the bandages, but that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon, if ever.

Satisfied with your work, you fully stood up and handed Vere the remainder of the shampoo, oils and comb.

“For your tail” you said as you passed along the objects. “Do not fall asleep”

Just before leaving you tested the waters' warmth. Lukewarm. You quietly summoned the magic needed to add a little more heat to the water. Just enough so he’d have enough time to properly wash out his tail. With that you gathered up his pile of clothes and headed out of the bathroom.

Usually you just washed your clothes in the basin in the bathroom with a cleaning solution and then left them to dry on the very, very small balcony your room hosted, but Veres clothes were of infinitely higher quality than yours, so doing that might ruin them. Not to mention your modest balcony was currently being blasted by the cold weather.

There wasn't anything you could really do, so you just folded up the clothes and opened your closet to see what other options there were. You could let him borrow something of yours, but something told you he wouldn't appreciate that, not even considering the fact that it definitely wouldn't fit him perfectly like all his outfits did. His clothes were definitely custom made.

Then, something caught your eye. Last time you were helping at the clinic, someone had kindly gifted some linens and basic white clothes to the patients who might need some (like you had), and in the mix there had been a few fluffy bathrobes. Kuras had kindly gifted you one considering there wasn't too much use for that in the clinic, and it had been sitting in your closet ever since. It wasn't fancy by any means, but it was good quality. And as long as you didn't tell Vere you got it from Kuras he probably wouldn't protest too much.

You walked back over to the bathroom door and rapped your knuckles on the door twice.

“Hey I’m going to hand you a bathrobe. Are you out of the tub?” You called through the door.

You heard the faint sound of bare feet on tile and the door open as vere stood before you, the smaller towel currently in his hands being used to dry his hair while the larger towel was draped over his now clean tail.

Needless to say, you kept very strong eye contact as he took the robe from your hands and slid it on.

You watched him feel the plush of the robe, a very tired but somewhat satisfied look on his face. The quality of the fabric had met his standards apparently (probably just barely). Then he turned towards your bed, walked over, and flopped down on said bed.

Well, you weren’t exactly expecting him to go back out in this weather, but still. You really wanted to sleep in your bed tonight.

Veres' muffled voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his words muddled by the pillow he was currently face planting into.

“What???” You responded.

“I said brush my tail” he huffed before nodding to the comb from earlier he left on the other side of the bed, which he had left untouched, seemingly content with just half the bed.

Well, this kinda meant he was willing to share right? No floor for you tonight, and all you had to do was preen this peacock of a Fox.

You situated yourself on the bed and began to gently brush out the mountain of damp fur in front of you. Luckily he had done a solid job of washing his tail, it was a lot easier to brush out than his hair had been.

He flicked it occasionally, the fur brushing up against your nose more than once. His normal spiced scent was now overpowered by lavender. You involuntarily inhaled the scent, remembering it was known to relax people into sleep. (Kuras had told you that once).

“Please, try to contain yourself.” He cooed at you before flicking his tail at your face once again. “I always smell incredible, no need to act all enamored”

You let out an annoyed huff.

“Sure you do.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Excuse you” Vere turned on his pillow to look at you through half lidded eyes. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” You quipped, focusing on his tail to look busy.

You were avoiding the question instead of bantering with him, that’s how Vere knew you were being honest. You actually thought he smelled bad.

“What?” His eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“Hm?”

“What do I smell like to you?”

You avoided eye contact and continued to really focus on brushing his tail.

“Hey!” He sat up now, and looked ready to wrestle the information out of you. “What do you think I smell like?”

“Well-“ you conceded, “you kinda smell like a Fox.”

Vere looked at you unmoving, mouth slightly open.

“It’s not like it’s super noticeable! Or like an inherently awful smell!” You assured him. “It’s just- once you notice it under all the fancy perfumes you usually wear it’s kinda hard to not pick up on it.”

Vere grabbed the pillow from beneath his head and smacked you with it. Hard.

“Hey!”

“How dare you!” He seethed. “I smell incredible all the time! Take back what you said.”

He finished his sentence by wacking you with the pillow again.

After receiving the second pillow smack, you gave Vere a quick glare, but your annoyance quickly gave way to amusement, and you were now struggling to hold in your giggles. A slight blush had graced veres normally stoic face, along with a look of affronted shock. He was embarrassed. Oh this was actually too funny.

Normally Vere would never let himself look embarrassed in front of anyone. But he had a shit day. He was exhausted, and his mask of arrogance had washed away with the lavender soap.

You began laughing. Quietly at first, but after those first few giggles an enraged, red-faced Vere had gotten up from his longing position and was now attacking you with your own pillow. The slight giggles on your part has turned into full on laughter, occasionally muffled by a repeated pillow to your face.

“Take!”

*Smack*

“It!”

*Smack*

“Back!”

*Smack smack*

You knew you would get noise complaints from the other tenants tomorrow, because you were absolutely overcome with laughter. Genuinely, you could feel your stomach start to cramp from how hard you were cackling at Vere.

You looked up at him, towering over you with a pillow at the ready. You could see the tips of his fangs. He was smiling too. He was so pretty when he smiled.

“Ok, ok” you conceded. “I take it-“

*Smack*

“Vere wait!” You squealed. “Wait, I said I take it back!”

“Not good enough anymore.” He responded. “You owe me a compliment, for telling me I smell like a wild animal.”

*Smack*

“So get with the complimenting asshole.” he smirked, readying his pillow for if your answer was not satisfactory.

“I’m not going to-“

*Smack*

“Alright, fine! Your hair looks great!”

*Smack*

“Your eyes are stunning!”

*Smack*

“Hey those were good! Stop attacking me!” Your smile was so wide you thought your face might split for a second.

“Try harder~” he cooed. “You’ll need to get creative in order to earn my forgiveness”

Right as he was about to bring the pillow down to your face once more, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards you.

He let out a yelp as you did so, but you knew he let it happen. The truth was if Vere didn’t want you to touch him, you’d never get close enough to even think about it. He knew the second you began reaching for his wrist, and he let it happen. He let himself fall against your chest, still heaving with laughter.

Chest to chest you looked at eachother, faces close enough that your noses nearly touched, both of you still smiling like idiots.

“Vere, You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Vere smile shifted at your words. He wasn’t cackling to himself anymore, instead he was looking directly at you. Studying you almost.

You didn’t mind. You knew he wasn’t one to trust. Neither were you. But at this moment you didn’t particularly care.

“I feel like it’s rare to see a real smile from you,” you continued. “It feels rewarding, knowing I can make you smile. I want to see it more, but-“

You couldn’t finish the sentence, but you knew what you wanted to say.

But I selfishly want you to look at just me like that. Not anyone else.

“Well. I like seeing it regardless.” You finished.

You saw the look on Veres' face. Most would call it indescribable, but you knew exactly what he was thinking. You had said something real just now. Real in a way he didn’t want to respond too or process right now, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“Was that a good enough compliment?” You asked, an easy smile falling over your face. One that said you were willing to brush off what you had just said as nothing more than a game if he was.

The tension seemed to melt from his face as he playfully rolled his eyes and flopped down next to you.

It amazed you how expressive he could be when he was exhausted.

“Fine, I suppose I’ll forgive you. Just this once.” He mumbled.

Speaking of exhaustion, sleep was overtaking him quickly now that the fun had died down. He turned around and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, fur and hair now dry. Despite this, you could tell he was still cold. It seemed this weather didn’t agree with him.

You pushed yourself out of the bed and went back over to your closet. In the bottom was a thick scratchy fleece blanket. Not comfortable, but great for keeping the heat in. The perfect blanket to lay over someone already covered in other blankets.

You walked back over to the bed and draped it over Vere before waking back to your side and getting under the covers yourself.

A few moments of silence went by, and you were sure he had fallen asleep, until you heard him whisper, so quiet you might have missed it-

“I hate the snow.”

“Mhm.” You replied. “One of my earliest memories was about snow.”

Vere turned to face you once again, barely still awake.

It was true. It definitely wasn’t your oldest memory, but you remembered being a child and seeing snow for the first time. The person who had betrayed you was there too. They had told you, “every snowflake is unique, no two are alike.” You had spent the rest of the day catching snowflakes and trying to look at the patterns before they melted in your palms.

“Is it a good memory?” Vere asked.

“I’m…not sure.” You responded.

Something told you Vere already knew that would be the answer, he just wanted you to know the same. Sly Fox.

“Goodnight Vere”

“…”

No response.

That night your dreams were filled with snow. And when you woke you saw it was already late morning. You had been out cold.

You looked over to the other side of the bed to see it empty. Not shocking. What was shocking was the items on the bedside table next to you.

You unfolded the note. It was undoubtedly Veres' handwriting.

“Mhin told me that bathrobe I used was given to you by that fucking doctor. I’m burning it. Here’s a replacement.

-Vere”

Sure enough there was a blood red bathrobe neatly folded underneath the note. It was definitely higher quality than the one Kuras had given you, but less fluffy.

Besides that, there was also a black wicker basket placed on top of the robe as well. Replacements for the lavender set you had given him last night. But these products were far nicer than what you had used on him, and far more greater in quantity.

You sifted through the many hair oils, heavily scented bars of soap, lotions, and vials of perfume. The whole set was probably worth more money than you had ever had at one point in your entire life.

You opened a bottle and inhaled, and immediately recognized the scent. This is what Vere normally smelled like. He’d given you some of his products. It was shockingly sweet of him to do so, you didn’t think he cared that you were basically dirt poor.

Speaking of, it was time to get up. You had odd jobs to complete and were supposed to help Kuras later today.

Over the next few weeks, what had become what you would assume a one time thing had now become commonplace. Veres work would often end in the lowtown in the winter months it seemed, the Senobium only leaving hightown after all soulless had been cleared out, then heading to lowtown to kill maybe just one for their reputations sake before letting Vere off his leash.

Sometimes he’d just flop down in bed and immediately go to sleep, other times he’d demand you pamper him a little. Sometimes with a whole routine like you had done before, other times he just handed you a hairbrush and his tail and expected you to get to work.

“Didn’t you say to me you’d never be caught dead slumming it in the wet wick like the first day I was here?” You teased him.

“It’s literally a blizzard outside shut the FUCK UP.” He replied, stealing all of your blankets as punishment. (After that you kept an extra one under your side of the bed just in case)

Over time you had to make space in your closet for a few of his outfits as well. He’d made a joke about how if you didn’t want his clothes here he’d gladly walk around in the nude, and you had agreed to let him keep some things here just a little too quickly for his liking.

You didn’t think it meant anything. Yes, if it had been anyone else but Vere you could see how people might perceive this as romantic or something but not with him. Vere would never see you as more than a means to an end, and you would never open up to him. That’s just how the two of you were

Or that’s what you told yourself, wearing the robe he had given you while wearing the same perfume as he did, as you brushed his tail in comfortable silence while the snow fell outside.

Vere hated the snow. He always would. But as spring began to arrive and he no longer had any excuse to spend the night in your room, he began to miss those winter nights. Vere still hated the cold, but somehow that time with you had been anything but.

#touchstarved #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved game #touchstarved vere #vere touchstarved #vere x reader #vere x mc #touchstarvedgame #touchstarved fic #touchstarved fanfiction #touchstarved fanfic #vere my beloved #touchstarved x mc

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hanluex · 10 months

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♡ I LOVE YOU — KIM GUNWOO

bf!gunwoo x gn!reader | wc : 0.6k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, established relationship | loki's lines — here is my bloodhounds debut, hope y’all enjoy! follow @geonwooz for more!

“jagiya, look here. i'll take your picture!”

gunwoo smiled, always excited to snap your pictures whenever you two went out on your little dates.

it was a hobby of his; to take as many pictures of you as he could every time you two went out.

you shook your head, moving out of the camera frame, before looking at your boyfriend with a disgruntled expression.

“jagiya, what’s wrong?”

“i don’t have any pictures of you.”

a confused pout appeared on gunwoo’s face, and it took your all to not just squish his cheeks and kiss him then and there.

“but what does that have to do with me taking your picture?” he asked softly, his phone now in his pocket, as he moved closer to you.

you couldn’t help but smile at his words, finding him absolutely endearing. “you always take pictures of me, but i never get to take any of yours,” you explained.

gunwoo shrugged, still pouting. “you know i don’t like cameras, jagi,” he stated, a fact you already knew before he even shared it.

“yeah, but i don’t have any pictures of you to look at when i miss you.”

“oh.”

“you have tons of pictures of me,” you continued, unaware of how your words reddened your boyfriend’s cheeks. “but i only have that one picture of you in front of your mother’s new café.”

gunwoo chuckled, knowing there was no way out of an argument with you. “okay, okay. you can take a picture of me then,” he mumbled, standing awkwardly.

a gleeful laugh left your lips as you clapped, excited to finally take a proper picture of your boyfriend — aka snap your soon-to-be lock screen.

kim gunwoo smiled to himself as he watched you place your hand on his shoulders, pushing him into his position as you checked for a pleasant background.

technically, he moved as you pushed him because there was no way you would’ve been able to nudge him out of place by yourself.

with a wide grin, you took a couple of steps back, absolutely pleased with how everything looked on camera. well, almost everything. the only thing that seemed out of place was the frown on your boyfriend’s face.

“gunwoo-ya. are you standing next to kim myeonggil?” you asked, brows furrowed at the way he was looking at the camera.

the brunet looked around, confused as to why you asked him that. “no?” he carefully answered, wondering why you were sulking.

“then why do you look like it’s the worst day of your life? smile a little, please!”

gunwoo took a deep breath, following your commands as he cracked a smile, and posed for the camera; however, even that didn’t seem to satisfy you.

he was smiling so naturally all this time when we were together; why does he get awkward when the camera is on him?

“i look awkward, don’t i, jagiya?” gunwoo asked, realizing his awkwardness was definitely showing with the way he posed.

he wasn’t used to posing for photos like this, and it definitely showed, but of course, being his girlfriend, you weren’t about to give up on him like that.

“nope, not at all. you look great.”

“ah, okay, then.”

“gunwoo-ya,” you called gently, getting your boyfriend’s attention. “i love you.”

as cheeky as your method was, the result absolutely warmed your heart.

as soon as he heard those words, kim gunwoo broke into the soft smile you were always used to seeing, his eyes shaped like little crescents with the way he smiled too hard.

you quickly snapped the picture, quickly running to your boyfriend to show him the result.

gunwoo never knew anyone could be so excited to take his photo, and he only found himself falling for you harder when he saw you immediately make his picture your lock screen.

you looked at your boyfriend, smiling widely as you showed him your phone, unaware of the thoughts that were running through his mind.

before you could even process it, gunwoo placed his lips upon yours, capturing them in a chaste kiss, replying to the words you told him earlier.

“and i love you.”

TAGLIST: TO BE ADDED, PLEASE DM OR COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK :)

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make-me-imagine · 4 months

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Confession + Relationship Headcanons {K.GW & H.WJ}

Confession + General Relationship Headcanons with Kim Geon-Woo and Hong Woo-Jin (Bloodhounds)

Pairing: Kim Geon-Woo x Gn!Reader; Hong Woo-Jin x Gn!Reader + Geon-Woo x Reader x Woo-Jin headcanons because why not lol.

Requested By: Anonymous

Warnings: Some headcanons revolving around physical affection and kissing. Poly-Headcanons; listed separately and labelled so avoid if you're not into that.

Words: Geon-Woo: 0.5k ; Woojin: 0.4k; Poly: 0.7k Total Word Count: ~1.6k

A/n: Me coming back from hiatus with content for a show no one follows me for? It's more likely than you think!

Kim Geon-Woo

Geon-Woo is fairly reserved until he gets to know someone, so even if he was attracted to you he would keep it to himself until he got to know you better.

He is a big believer in needing to be friends with someone first before starting a relationship.

Even though he waits until you form a bond of friendship, he is head over heels for you, and it is obvious, even to you eventually.

Caught staring at you too often not to notice.

Always offers to help you, or does random things for you.

You make him blush pretty easily, and smile all the time.

Like, giggling and kicking his feet kind of guy if you do something he finds cute.

You would worry you assumed wrong though since he never said anything, but then finally he does confess.

He does it in a reserved and shy way after he walked you home from having dinner with him and Woojin.

He will struggle to keep eye contact at first, but then he will finally get a hold of himself and tell you how he feels.

He will list the things he loves about you, how long he a felt this way, and how much he wants to be with you.

Geon-Woo is ecstatic when you confess you feel the same.

He asks to hold your hand, and is all cute and smiley when you say yes.

Geon-woo loves holding your hand, especially when you are walking around together.

If your hands are a lot smaller than his?? LOVES to engulf your hands in his, especially if you are cold.

Totally the type to give you his jacket when you are cold, even if he is too.

Surprises you with flowers and food to make you smile.

His giving love languages are Acts of Service, Quality Time, and Gift Giving.

His main receiving Love Language is Quality Time, but he enjoys physical touch as well.

He loves hugging you, often from behind so he can rest his head on yours or on your shoulder (depending on the height difference)

He also loves kissing, especially slow kisses when cuddling, you but all of that stays in private.

When you say goodbye to each other he often gives you a kiss to your hand, or forehead though.

And if you kiss him (mainly in public or in front of others) he gets all shy and cute.

Since he loves spending time with or around you, you two go on a lot of cute dates.

Going to the movies, arcades, walks, hiking, short road trips, picnics, museum dates, anything that involves just the two of you is amazing to him.

He is very caring and gentle, and is quite protective without being controlling.

He will always give you space when you need it, and will always be here when you want comfort or company.

Ride or Die, simp, giant green flag, he is all of the above. When he loves he loves with his whole heart and nothing less.

Hong Woo-Jin

Woojin is more bold than Geonwoo so he wouldn't really hide his feelings, or beat around the bush.

Once he meets you and realizes he is very much into you, he is ready to test the waters.

Flirts immedietely.

If you reciprocate and flirt back, he is surprised yet ecstatic.

If you are shy and bashful about it, he finds it adorable and it only makes him want to flirt more just to see you blush.

It took you some time though to realize he was being serious.

He saw someone else showing interest and panicked because he feared he would lose his chance to actually be with you.

When he confessed, his boldness seemed to vanish and he grew shyer than you had ever seen.

He showed up with flowers, a jittery demeanor and a lot of rambling.

But it was honestly adorable.

You were admittedly, a bit surprised to learn he had not just been flirting but had truly been trying to pursue you.

So when he asked you on a date, you were more than happy to say yes.

He is very fun to be in a relationship with. He is down to do pretty much anything and nothing, as long as it is with you.

His love languages, both giving and receiving are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation and Physical Affection.

He is perfectly open to PDA so it depends on how you feel about it.

If you are fine with it, he will be all over you whenever he wants (which is often), if you do not like it, he will stick to an arm around your waist or his hand in yours until you are alone together.

If you initiate PDA he gets giddy he loves it.

Loooves kissing, doesn't care if there are others around to see it (again this depends on you - he wont do things you are uncomfortable with.)

When it is just the two of you he loves being close to you.

Dates with Woojin are often fun and involve some form of activity, and usually food.

Arcades, bowling, mini golf, theme parks, etc..

The dates often last for hours or even a whole day because you enjoy being with each other so much.

He is clingy so even if you want some time alone it is often that he is nearby. He will give you your space, but the second you are fine with him being there he appears like a puppy that had been waiting for you to get home from work.

Will cook for you and take you out to eat all kinds of food.

If you cook for him, he will help you or clean up afterwards.

Will go to the ends of the Earth to protect you and make you happy. Definitely a ride or die kind of boyfriend.

Geon-Woo + Woo-Jin (Poly Relationship)

Being in a relationship with both Geon-Woo an Woo-jin would happen slowly.

Geon-Woo an Woo-jin do not have romantic feelings for one another, but they are so close that being with the same partner poses no issues for them.

In a way they prefer it, they spend so much time together and are so close that having the same partner makes sense in a way.

When they first realized that they both had strong feelings for you thy both backed off, not wanting to steal the others desired partner.

But then, they figured out you had feelings for both of them as well.

Woo-Jin was the first to bring up a possible poly situation to Geon-Woo.

Geon-Woo admittedly was thrown off about this at first, not sure if it would really work out.

But there feelings for you were so strong, and they were so close he couldn't really find any issues with it.

And the idea of one of them being with you and the other not didn't sit well with them, so it was a both or neither situation.

But they were both worried you would hate the idea, and they didn't want to lose you completely so they were cautious about it.

First they both made their feelings for you known, and in a way courted you equally.

You noticed it immedietely and withdrew a bit, because the idea of choosing one and the other being hurt was something you could not do.

Noticing you were running they decided to admit they both had feelings for you and both wanted to be with you.

You were thrown off, confused, and worried it was something they actually didn't want but said it solely to appease each other.

They took the time to explain to you their feelings and how much they both cared about you, and each other.

Every question you had, they had an answer or solution for, and eventually you couldn't really find any issues with it.

You decided to try it out slowly at first, but it quickly felt so right and normal that it became a real relationship pretty quickly.

Everyone who knew you knows the three of you are super close, so none of them really suspect you are in a relationship.

They could see them hugging you and playfully flirting with you and not bat an eyelash.

There is rarely a day the three of you aren't together or around each other.

If you work out, you work out with them - two free personal trainers, and they're hot? If you don't work out you still get to watch them work out. Its a win win situation.

Some days you go on individual dates with them, doing something one prefers over the other.

Then the three of you often go on a group date. Either to the movies, out to eat, a picnic, bowling or activity dates etc. Often having small competitions between the three of you to see who pays.

You are always between them. When sitting, standing, sleeping, cuddling. It's like having two constant teddy bears.

Once your relationship got more serious, Woojin convinced everyone to get giant beds so it didn't matter whose house you were at, if you wanted to sleep over, there was room for all three of you.

Group chat called "Sunshine Protection Squad" because they are basically your body guards. (You are sunshine if that wasn't obvious)

Anyone bothering you? Creepy guys hitting on you? Dangerous situation? They are there ready to protect.

They teach you self-defense and how to fight for times they are not there.

Woojin calls you sunshine and/or sunflower, while Geo-Woo calls you babe/baby or flower. (And also Princes if that matches your pronouns). You are passenger princess no matter what btw.

They like taking care of you, even if it can be overwhelming or stifling. Though they do give you space and alone time when you need it.

They get very good at being able to tell what you want or need even before you say anything.

You are always fed, hydrated and taken care of because they will never let anything bad touch you if they can help it.

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

-Taglist Form- *Bloodhounds has been added to form

#kim geon woo x reader #hong woojin x reader #bloodhounds x reader #kim geonwoo/reader #hong woojin/reader #bloodhounds/reader #kim geon woo headcanons #hong woojin headcanons #bloodhounds headcanons #kim geonwoo x reader x hong woojin #bloodhounds kdrama imagine #woo do hwan x reader #lee sang yi x reader #headcanons #kim gun woo x reader #kim gun woo/reader #kim gun woo imagine #kim gun woo headcanons

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freyito · 9 days

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ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: me and mr wolf by the real tuesday weld

★ summary: The Family is hosting a ball as more promotion for the Charmony Festival. At this ball, a certain Bloodhound Family member takes interest in you...

✧ a/n: pspsps did you know requests are open <3? (also totally not setting up a part 2 not at allll (guy who set up the most obvious intro to part 2))

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, anxious reader, mild penacony spoilers, just fluff-ish, he's a little eerie, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

The scene before you is incredibly lavish, light, and dreamy. It speaks of The Family’s power and bank, how quickly they are able to set up such a beautiful sight within the Dreamscape. It’s like a fantasy, something you’d only see in, well, dreams. Patrons from all sorts of colorful backgrounds flood the floor, some of them you believe you recognize. The chatter around you drowns out what would be ethereal music, guests piling in from two wide double doors. You look to your right, and you see Sunday, the head of the Oak Family all the way at the end of the venue, hands behind his back and observing the revelry. On the other side of the venue, you see Oti Alfalfa– which is very questionable in its own right. Perhaps the Alfalfa family paid for the venue, or… something. You couldn’t really make sense of it. With how crowded it was, you didn’t want to make sense of it.

With your head down, you make your way through the crowd, doing your best to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. After all, this was the first time you’ve seen anyone dressed up so fancy. And, some passing glances at you tell you that, for once, these people care about what they’re wearing in the Dreamscape. You avoid their gazes, making a beeline to the drinks. Or so you hope– this is a formal ball, after all. Would they really have a drink table like it’s some highschool prom? You get your answer when you reach the end of the hall, and there’s no table in sight. A pity, really. However, you do spot waiters walking around with platters of SoulGlad. It isn’t the best choice, but it’ll wet your throat.

Grabbing one of the delicate glasses after flagging a waiter down, you hunker down in a less populated corner. You watch as the tempo takes hold, dancers falling into line. You grow increasingly conscious that you are here alone, no partner to dance with. Not like you wanted to, right? Throwing yourself into a ball with no partner, not even a friend, it feels… embarrassing. And suddenly, you’re aware of why people's eyes have been on you. You lower your head once more, staring down into the glass of SoulGlad, furrowing your brows. You swirl the glass, watching as it fizzes and dies down, as the music around you dies down. What a shame, really… You had no idea what you were doing here, perhaps you just wanted to join in on the revelry? Enjoying yourself seems like a distant reality, despite that being the essence of the Dreamscape.

Reluctantly, you take a swig of the drink, letting it cool your throat. With a huff, you look back into the near empty glass, practically forgetting to even taste the drink. Whether you’re spurred on by self-hatred or a genuine interest, you make your way to the floor. Catching another waiter as you do so, you hand them to empty glass. It feels weird, being in such a posh environment. Yet, before you can reach the floor, a hand grabs your wrist. It sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly your new-found confidence is shot. You turn around to reprimand whoever grabbed you, but you’re met with a Bloodhound Guard.

He looks at you with a stoic face, raising his eyebrow slightly when you shoot him a judgmental look. Just because he’s part of the Bloodhound Family doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to grab you so suddenly. And it seems he’s caught onto that, because he lets go of your arm.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” He starts, his tone cool and even, his voice slightly gravelly and deep. Yet, it doesn’t sound like he’s actually sorry, there is no apology in his tone. “You’re, uh, you’re kinda makin’ a warpath, here.”

You raise your eyebrow, and you have no idea how to respond. The words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look around. You’re on the edge of the floor, and the dancing hasn’t ceased. Everyone’s eyes are on each other, thank the Aeons.

At your baffled look, he relaxes and chuckles softly. “Sorry, just had to make sure you weren’t… going to cause trouble.”

A light blush dusts your cheeks, and you find yourself feeling embarrassed again. Only then do you take in the man’s disheveled appearance. Some stubble, hair left undone for such a fancy event, and a suit that was put together all too quickly, wrinkled and perhaps a little stained. His hazel eyes bore into yours, as if searching you for something, though he’s already established that you are no threat. Something about him, however, feels familiar. You swear, his name is on the tip of your tongue, you’ve seen this man… somewhere before.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to ruin your night…” He trails off, eyes tearing away to look you up and down. When his eyes meet yours once more, he extends a calloused hand towards you. His gaze softens and he smiles with a huff. “Care for a dance?”

“Ah…” Is the only thing you manage to choke out. You’re taken aback by the sudden invitation, slightly unnerved. It’s not that he himself is nerve wracking, but it’s the way he’s gone from gruff to gentlemanly. “Sure.”

Your response is dry, but you put your hand in his. Wordlessly, he leads you into the center of the floor, falling in step with all the dance partners around you. Despite his messy appearance, he dances elegantly. He matches the flow of the room easily, swaying, each step smooth. Now that you’re up close and personal, you take in the faint smell of tobacco and some generic cologne, and an undertone of something metallic. You do your best to forget about it, allowing yourself to get whisked away by the melody surrounding you two.

“Gallagher, by the way.” The man starts once more, answering the question, or lack thereof, you had asked yourself.

“What brings a Bloodhound to a, uh, ball?” You ask, attempting to strike up conversation. It only hits you now that you are dancing with a stranger, so closely and almost… intimately. Another feeling of unease crawls down your spine, and you can’t understand why.

Gallagher chuckles at your question, as if it’s preposterous to think that the Bloodhound Family do more than just act tough. “We’re allowed a little fun every once in a while,” He shrugs, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “It’s not a crime, right?”

The proximity makes you blush, acutely aware of just how rough and calloused his hands feel, your palms start to get sweaty. You do your best to ignore it, after all, this is a man you just met. “No, no, not at all…” You try to act and sound confident, ignoring the pit in your stomach. “Just… I didn’t expect it, that's all.”

Silence stretches between you two as you spin around the floor, like cogs in a machine. It only strikes you now how… mundane this event truly is. Sure, it is grand and lights up the night, but is there really a purpose? The unease and anxiety settles in your bones, and your pace falters, suddenly no longer able to follow Gallagher’s steps. He notices this, and slows down. But when you meet his eyes, his gaze isn’t concerned. He can see you piecing things together, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice lowers, barely above the music that surrounds you two. It carries the tone of a challenge, but you don’t want to respond. Your throat is dry once more, and you keep your gaze away from him. He squeezes your hands and traps you within the waltz, every step caging you in.

“Just… nervous, sorry,” You deflect, trying to ignore the creeping unease that seeps into your veins. Perhaps this is all in your head, and you’re just letting the embarrassment, the anxiety, and the nerves get to your head. It’s not a far-off assumption, since you’ve stepped foot in the hall you’ve wanted nothing more than to run out. To wake up from the dream. “My bad.”

Gallagher lets up, loosening his grip on your hand and puts a little space between you two as you fall back into pace with the other dancers. His expression eases into something softer, something that doesn’t necessarily fit a man of his stature.

“You’re more than welcome to take a break,” He doesn’t apologize, brushing off the scene from the moment before. Yet, despite this invitation, he continues to dance, his own pace does not waver. “I won’t mind.”

You feel nauseous, yes, but when was the last time you’ve danced? When was the last time you’ve felt this elegant? You swallow your anxiety and shake your head, allowing yourself to really enjoy this waltz. “It’s okay.”

Gallagher responds with a ‘hm’ and a nod, no words spoken. Finally, you watch your steps. He’s already set himself as the lead, and you had no qualms being the follow. You step backward. Pause. Then you step to the side. Pause. Then you bring your feet together. You continue this pattern, finally hearing the music above the tapping around you. It’s almost comforting in a way, being able to follow something that feels… luxurious. And Gallagher seems to be enjoying himself, as well. He isn’t pulling you closer, his hands hold you loosely, as if he’s suddenly afraid of scaring you. As if he hadn’t.

Slowly, you relax. The beat lulls you into a sense of calm, spinning around the floor as if it came naturally. You are no longer hyper aware of everyone else, feeling as if it’s just you and Gallagher. His heady scent feels the air between you two, the metallic tang you smelled earlier becoming a lot more potent. You do your best to ignore it, the music picking up intensity. He drops your right arm, raising his left hand up, and spinning you. It’s a light and airy feeling, something akin to a warm spring day. All worries wash away so easily under such a simple act.

A man you’ve barely known, that you’re sure you’ve seen a handful of times in Golden Hour and Blue Hour, treating you so delicately despite his gruff exterior. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion that follows such a nerve wracking experience, you can’t tell. For now, it doesn’t matter. You are enjoying yourself, dancing with a Bloodhound or not.

Just as the waltz feels like it’s reaching an end, Gallagher dips you down, his hand placed firmly against the small of your back. His eyes meet yours once more, a sly grin spreading across his face, giving you a proper view of his sharp canine teeth. It isn’t as strange as before, something you feel like you’ve grown used to in just a mere four minutes. But, in that moment, you realize the rough skin of his knuckles isn’t just from his hard line of work, but rather bruised skin. You run your thumb over his knuckles, and he only furrows his eyebrows.

At this, he brings you back up, and you two resume the steady waltz. Now, you want to ask him about it. You steal another glance at his hand, trying to see if you were right, but the dim lights within the ballroom black you from doing so. You can’t get hurt in the Dreamscape, you’re sure of it. So, it must’ve been somewhere in reality…

“Some hooligan was stirring up trouble, wouldn’t leave their room. Had to drag them out.” As if he read your mind, he responds quickly. It’s quite impressive with how in-tune he is with you and your mind.

“Ah,” You nod, trying to sound understanding. It checks out, that must’ve been why his suit was a little… sloppy. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“The Charmony Festival brings out all sorts of undesirables…” Gallagher affirms.

The conversation is dry, but you still feel a weird pull towards him. You simply cannot figure out what else to talk about, what to ask. Anything you fish out in your mind sounds like you’re on a date with him. Sure, the current situation feels like it isn’t far off from that conclusion, but he asked you for a dance, not a date.

And, unfortunately, the ball was coming to an end. It’s a shame, really. Time had slipped away from your mind, and you had enjoyed yourself. Even with such an unsure start, with such an enigmatic fellow, it was fun. The music slowly comes to a stop, as does the other dancers. You and Gallagher are left together in a sea of chatter, flats and shoes clacking as patrons walk off the floor, an awkward air falling over you two like a blanket.

You look at Gallagher, and he has a somber look on his face, watching everyone filter off the dance floor. He himself had a great time, too. Something you assumed may be rare for Bloodhounds. But, he snaps out of it quickly, returning your gaze with a near sheepish smile.

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He chuckles, “Don’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever danced.” You shake your head, sighing softly.

“Well, you were a perfect dance partner, if that counts for somethin’.” Gallagher starts to walk, following the stream of people.

You follow suit, blushing a little at the compliment. You try to find an organic flow for the conversation, but all you can stutter out is a ‘thanks’ and a small nod as if to affirm your own confidence. You want so badly to follow up with a question about him, to see if you can get a crack from his cool demeanor, but ultimately, you fall short when you two finally step out of the venue. With a brisk exhale, you feel lighter. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt within the ballroom until now.

“Well, it was fun,” Gallagher sighs, shrugging off his blazer casually. “I’d invite you for another dance, but, that’s not necessarily my thing.”

With your one chance at getting to know more, you trip over your own words and decide, why not? Why not shoot your shot, ask him out?

“I mean… uh, we could, get dinner, or something?” You sound so unsure, so flustered, blushing a little at your own question.

“Why not?” Gallagher shrugs, an easy smile plastered to his face. “Don’t think I ever got your name, either.”

You hastily tell him your name, bowing your head like you’re grateful to him for this opportunity. You’re more grateful to yourself, being able to ask a question like that. You two quickly exchange phone numbers, and suddenly it feels like there's a weight lifted off your shoulders.

He gives you a thoughtful look, scratching at his stubble. “How about a drink?”

#⁺◟freyito #gallagher x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gallagher x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

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dinogoofymutated · 3 days

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Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse.

You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn.

You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

“Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him.

“Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

“Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

“Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

“It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

“Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

“Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!”

“I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

“But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

“I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers.

“I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song.

You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

“What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most.

“I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest.

“Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #wolverine headcannons #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett headcannons #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

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parkersgarage · 5 months

Text

Rain;

an old fic I never posted

hong woojin x gn.reader (no pronouns mentioned) 323 wc, hurt/comfort sort of

“It’s raining.”

Woojin’s eyes flicker to you. Sat on the opposite side of the couch, away from him, and he wonders why you decided to talk now when you’ve been silent for hours, ignoring him. He hums in agreement, repeating your words as he looks out the window. “It’s raining.”

“I don’t like the rain.”

“You used to,” he says quietly, shifting so his body faces yours. “You loved the rain.”

“It was raining,” You said, nodding your head. Were you trying to stop the tears clouded in your eyes from falling? “It was raining when i almost lost you.”

Woojin takes a deep breath at your words, letting it go when you look at him. “I’m still here.” He says. He keeps his voice low, “I’m still with you.”

His hand reaches for you, hesitating before you reach for him in turn. Your hands are cold when they slide onto his; his palm rests against yours, and he smiles softly when you slot your fingers between his.

“Let's go sit in the rain, like we used to, hm?” He proposes, looking out the window to see the stream of rain run down the street. “I’ll take care of you if you get sick.”

“What if you get sick?” You ask. Woojin sighs at the sight of tears running down your cheeks. He’s quick to wipe them away, but he feels that burning sensation in the back of his throat when you look at him.

He doesn’t say anything further. He wouldn’t be able to reassure you anyhow. His hand wraps around yours and tugs, gently guiding you to the back door. The rain got heavier, but Woojin didn’t mind.

He pulls you into him, guiding your head to his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against himself.

“I hope you’ll love the rain again,” he whispers. It’s barely heard. “Just like you taught me to love it.”

#hong woo jin x reader #hong woojin x gn reader #hong woojin x reader #bloodhounds x gn reader #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds imagines

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lala-lolly · 8 months

Text

Hello! I want to write stories or drabbles. Anything really but I struggle with staying on one 'topic' when I have so much freedom and ideas going through my head.

Feel free to request something that you would want me to write and I'll try my best to deliver and make it good.

I'm very multifaceted/have a wide range of interest that grows every month.

My main interests at the moment:

Kpop- Bangtan Boys (BTS), Stray kids, Tomorrow x Together, Enhypen, Black Pink, and more

Rapper- Icespice, Nicki Minaj, Megan Thee Stallion, Blueface, NLB Choppa, NBA YoungBoy, Kendrick Lamar, And more

Singers- Rihanna, Beyonce, Halsey, Taylor Swift, Katie Perry, Olivia Rodrigo, JVKE, Sabrina Carpenter, and more

Movies/series (kdrama as well)- Too many to mention LMAO

TV shows (kdrama as well)- Same here

If you just ask, I'll let you know if I can write for them. E.g; Q: "Do you write for/about John Wick?" A: Not yet because I haven't watched the movies (don't @ me plz)

Angst, Fluff, Comfort, etc

I'm iffy ab writing smut so that's on hold for a bit maybe suggestive will be the furthest I go. Also for texts ff I'll have to find a good spot that works on this old phone.

POC friendly (I myself am a WOC), I'll try to be as gender neutral as I can unless request to do gender specified. As stated before I am a WOC meaning I am also a (cis)female so it'll be a bit of a challenge to write for other genders but I'll give it a chance.

I'm sorry if this is all over the place, I'm writing this early in the moring. I drunk some coffee to finish up some work so I'm trying to use this energy for something else. If you have any questions lemme know (don't ask anything weird plz)

Also you can call me "Lala" "Lolly" "LaLo" "Lalolly" or whatever (might change my username anyway)

That's all signing out (not really)

-Lala Lolly ☁️🌆🍭

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genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

Exchange of Rings

(Alhaitham x Reader - 6/?)

You meet the Sumeru crew. Everyone assumes Alhaitham is in love with you. (They're not that off.) OR shampoo + congratulations + fiancé

Word Count: ~5.0k

Notes: afab!reader, second person pov “you”, gn!reader, switches pov with Alhaitham, modern au, arranged marriage, fall first/fall harder, slow burn, ft. everyone in Sumeru (except Nahida) and Cyno's dad jokes

[Previous - Next]

When you got engaged to Alhaitham, you shared the news with your immediate family and closest friends. It makes sense on your part because you hold your loved ones close to your heart, and they had a role in your decision to try an arranged marriage. On Alhaitham's side, his parents and grandmother know– and that's about everyone who does.

It has nothing to do with shame and everything to do with not making a commotion. Alhaitham finds no need to inform his coworkers that he may be a married man at the end of the year, knowing full well they would make a big deal out of it.

(In their defense, engagements are big deals. Alhaitham being engaged is an even bigger deal. Unfortunately for everyone, Alhaitham understands this well and deliberately does not speak a word unless they ask. Or, alternatively, if you ever ask.

To his knowledge, people often associate public announcements to be a sign of commitment, and the lack of one would indicate otherwise, which is not true for him. To avoid this possible miscommunication down the line, Alhaitham asks you directly whether you care that only his family knows, to which you blink and shrug.

“Why count the chickens before they’re hatched?” You tell him, patting your face with moisturizer. “This period is a trial run for us anyways, so I get it if you don’t. By the way, I’m going to go buy some more shampoo soon. You want me to get you anything at the shops tomorrow?”)

If possible, Alhaitham would prefer to only do one announcement via invitations to the wedding. Though now that he thinks more about it, even if you are fine with his choice to keep his engagement private, he thinks you’d be happy if he did announce it, if not to the world than at least to people closest to him. As a result, Alhaitham has vaguely thought of telling his friends with a passing comment and leaving it at that. It could work, if he came up with a proper plan– Friday evening where he can avoid any additional questions after his sudden declaration, drop the fact that he has a fiancé.

It may not be the grand public announcement that many people, possibly including you, would have wanted, but it would be a compromise between not saying a word of his betrothal to you at all.

Before Alhaitham could enact his plan a few days from now, Dehya forces his hand.

"Yo, Alhaitham,” Dehya says, sniffing, “did you change your shampoo or something?"

His coworkers are gathered around the communal table with their morning coffee and donuts, courtesy of the cafe downstairs having a crush on Nilou. Alhaitham only passes by the group when everyone turns toward him (and Dehya) quizzically.

“Dehya,” Cyno begins to say, “are you, by any chance, Dracula’s dog?”

Alhaitham turns away to continue his intended route to the office kitchen to grab coffee. Just his luck, the pot is empty, so he has to boil a new one. He starts the coffee machine when he hears Dehya’s confusion. “What are you talking about, Cyno?”

“Because you’re a bloodhound. Do you get it? Because bloodhounds are known for their acute sense of smell and Dracula is a vampire– a mythical creature known to seek out victims for blood-”

“Ah, Dehya does have a pretty good sense of smell,” Alhaitham hears Nilou pipe up the same Tighnari tells Cyno to stop talking. Alhaitham sets out a cup as the coffee machine churns out its dark liquid slowly. He’s thinking it would behoove him to purchase the office another coffee maker if it would let him leave the communal space faster. Or even purchase a coffee maker just for his office so he never has to come out here.

Ah, but then if it’s a better machine then everyone would just keep asking him to make the coffee for them (read: Kaveh), so he’d better scratch that idea.

“Hey, I’m no bloodhound, alright?” Dehya snorts. “I don’t go around sniffing everyone all the time, just to make that clear. I just happened to notice it because it smelled like the same type of shampoo I use.”

“It’s my fiancé's,” Alhaitham says. He takes a sip of the dark roast coffee in his cup, and he does not need to turn around to know that everyone in the room is looking at him in stunned silence. Actually– Alhaitham turns around just to see their reactions: it will be his only source of reprieve before the deluge of questions.

Tighnari is the first to recover, as expected of him. “I’m sorry, did you say fiancé?” He asks, “We’re using the same definition of fiancé, right?”

“There’s only one definition for that word,” Alhaitham replies. He starts walking toward the door only to be stopped by Dehya who’s beginning to grin ear to ear.

“Whoa, whoa, you can’t just drop that type of information on us without any explanation and just leave!” She says, patting Alhaitham on the shoulder.

“How long have you been hiding this from us, Alhaitham,” Cyno says, clasping his hands at his chin. “A few weeks? Months? Regardless, I believe some details are overdue.”

“Well, first off, congratulations, Alhaitham!” Nilou says, clapping joyfully. “I’m so happy for you!”

“True, it is a cause for celebration,” Tighnari says thoughtfully. “My apologies for not starting with that. Congratulations, Alhaitham. Now, do we know them or…?”

“If I give you ten minutes to answer your questions," Alhaitham says, "will you stop bothering me about it?”

Alhaitham is sat at the round table with a small audience as he briefly summarizes his situation. No, they don't know who you are. Yes, he’s living together with you. No, he didn’t meet you on a dating app– it was through a matchmaking service. No, it wasn't his idea, but yes, he's planning to see it through.

This comment pulls an 'aww' from the girls, which he can’t seem to wrap his head around the reason why. Tighnari is quick to explain, eyes thoughtfully watching Alhaitham. "You can't blame them for feeling this way, Alhaitham." Tighnari says with a hint of laughter, "Coming from you, that's as close as we can get from a full-blown confession of love."

"And to share the same hygiene products…" Cyno nods. "Another damning piece of evidence."

"Hey, 'damning' is a bit too harsh for something as joyful as this, isn't it?" Alhaitham hears Tighnari reply with exasperation.

He thinks about telling them that using your shampoo was out of convenience when his own hair products ran out. You had not minded when he asked. In fact, you seemed a little happy when he used it. Now that they've mentioned it, perhaps it's because for the past few days, he's been smelling the same as you.

Smell is a powerful sense, after all. Alhaitham thinks he might think of you from the scent of citrus alone.

"I don't see why I wouldn't go through with this, at this point in time," Alhaitham says. "The whole purpose of this is to find someone whose lifestyle is compatible with mine, and it has simply gone according to plan."

"How long have you been living together?" Nilou asks cheerfully, bulldozing through Dehya’s eyeroll at how ‘unromantic’ he was being and the shared look between Tighnari and Cyno.

Alhaitham counts the days left till the end of the contract. "Almost half a year," he says. He hears Cyno mutter under his breath about how Kaveh should have been here, and Alhaitham thinks it was best he wasn't. He would be the most persistent in his questions, not to mention the bemoaning of the unfairness that Alhaitham, of all people, got to end his bachelor life. And then proceed to demand that Alhaitham treat his spouse right (as if he wasn't already doing that).

"Too bad for Kaveh, huh?" Dehya teases, the grin not leaving her face once during this entire exchange. "Finally decided to take a vacation and missed out this bombshell of a conversation. And- oh! I should let Candace know." Dehya says, pulling out her phone, "She'll be so excited for you."

"And I'll text Kaveh," Tighnari says. "Unless you want to do it, Alhaitham?"

"I'd rather you not do it at all," he says blandly.

Tighnari shrugs. "Yeah, I knew you'd say that so I just sent it."

Alhaitham lets out a sigh and stands from the table. He considers getting another coffee but thinks otherwise lest they ask more questions. "Well, if anyone needs me… don't. I'll be in my office-"

A phone rings. All their heads turn to Tighnari.

"Ah, speak of the devil," Tighnari says, too innocently for Alhaitham's taste. "It's Kaveh."

He doesn't even have a chance to tell Tighnari to not pick up when Kaveh's voice is blaring on speakerphone, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "What do you mean Alhaitham got engaged? For how long?! And he never told us? What the f-"

Cyno quickly presses the speaker button again before looking up at Alhaitham. He doesn't like the gleam in everyone's eyes since he's spoken about you. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." Cyno says somberly, "Now all of Sumeru Co. knows you're married."*

"Engaged," Alhaitham says flatly. "And we still have another six months-"

Nilou clasps her hands together and gasps. "Wait, Alhaitham, you'll invite us to the wedding, won't you?"

"Oh, you better," Dehya says. "I want an in-person invitation."

Alhaitham hears Kaveh's voice going off even off speaker phone with Tighnari filling in the details. Cyno goads him with his knowing look as Nilou gushes about the possible wedding plans and 'oh, please let us meet your fiancé, Alhaitham!'

"By the way, Candace says 'congratulations,'" Dehya tells him. "And she wants to throw a party for you. When did you want to do it?"

Alhaitham wants to take his PTO, effective immediately.

The news spreads like wildfire. Alhaitham’s gotten used to muting all his notifications during work, reachable only through his email. Even then he cannot escape it when Candace sends him a cordial email to say her congratulations and to ask him to "update his emergency contacts and addresses as soon as possible! ^^"

Alhaitham anticipated the gossip, but he did not predict how badly his coworkers (“Friends!” you would correct him cheerily) would want to meet you. Luckily enough, he does spend the majority of a workday in his own office, so he only has to suffer through the pleading when he goes to get coffee. He’s never been more tempted to buy a coffee maker for his own office.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him one night before dinner. The question is asked with concern, but there is a hint of amusement in your tone as you watch him dice the onions with a death stare. “Did something happen at work?”

Alhaitham pauses in his cutting. “I’ve told my coworkers about you,” he says, glancing at you the moment your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “They’re quite insistent on getting to meet you.”

Your amusement is palpable now. “And that’s… bad?”

“Their insistence is tedious,” Alhaitham says dryly. He places the steak on the grill as it sizzles. You inhale the intoxicating smell of seared onions and garlic with a smile that he finds himself almost mirroring. “I offered the opportunity to meet you when the wedding happens, but they seem inclined to think the sooner the better.”

(‘When,’ you repeat in your head, affection bubbling in your chest. Not ‘if’ the wedding happens, but ‘when’ as though it is already set in stone.)

When you don’t respond, Alhaitham turns his attention from the stove to you, only to see you smiling widely at him. You tell him cheerily, “Then why don’t I just drop by your work one of these days? If they meet me, they can stop pestering you about it, right?”

“It’s inconvenient.” Before you can say anything further, he elaborates, “My workplace is at least a twenty-minute drive away, forty minutes round trip. If the purpose is to just stop by and introduce yourself, then the commute is definitely not worth it.”

"Aww, I can do it!" You say pouting. "It'll be fun!"

"No need."

"It's no trouble, really!"

"It is an immense amount of trouble, actually. Gas prices aren't lowering, you know." Alhaitham plates the food with a thoughtful frown. "You're unusually persistent about this. Something tells me there’s something else.”

You shift your weight. "Well, I’ve always wanted to meet your friends!” Ah, that's why, he thinks. As though you read his mind, you cross your arms and huff. "And we can carpool! Besides, I like driving you around, so it really isn't inconvenient for me at all!"

Alhaitham rolls his eyes, much to your indignance. When you stubbornly block his way from setting the dinner onto the table, he sighs, folding easily into your hands. "I know you don't mind driving me, but we'd have to align our schedules when you're not working and I am."

Your face immediately brightens at his words, though it dims just as quickly. "Do you mind," you start to say, uncharacteristically quiet, "that I meet your friends? It's not weird for you, is it?"

A sudden moment of insecurity from you. It takes him by surprise, but Alhaitham nips this thought in the bud before it can think of growing. "No," he says steadily. Because in the end, when it comes to you– "I don't mind at all." When you look up at him with your smile's brightness turned up to a hundred, he avoids getting blinded by swiftly walking around you to set down the steaks he prepared. "In fact, perhaps it's the best plan to have them stop trying to pull me into their conversations during lunch."

Jokingly, you salute him with an ‘aye-aye, sir!’ and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly as the two of you settle down to dinner.

As though speaking it into existence manifested its occurrence, you have the opportunity to meet his coworkers when his car fails to turn on and you, gleefully, suggest calling a mechanic to look at it after you drive him to work.

(Things tend to work out for you, though you feel as though Alhaitham is the one that makes it happen one way or another. There is no one that has easily indulged you as much as Alhaitham.)

Neither you nor Alhaitahm are morning people, but for this morning, you are up bright and early, humming as you brew coffee and cook breakfast for the two of them. Knowing how late you ended up sleeping last night (habits are hard to break, after all), Alhaitham watches you, mildly bewildered at how much energy you have at seven in the morning.

"You seem inordinately excited to meet my coworkers,” Alhaitham says, sipping his coffee as you turn on the car.

You snort in laughter at his tone of voice. "I just want to meet the people you care about,” you say. Alhaitham cannot find it in himself to make a wry comment about it; your genuine warmth has ways of keeping his scathing words at bay, purposefully or not. You continue to speak as you drive, “So you told them we met through a matchmaker? Just checking that we’re matching stories.”

Alhaitham stares at you, knowing full well you can see him in your periphery. “...You’ve been watching too many dramas,” he says, making you laugh. He barely avoids the hand that swats at him.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure!” You tell him, huffing. Alhaitham pulls out the book from the car storage cabinet and begins to read as you get onto the freeway. “I don’t know how close you are to your workplace and how much you wanted to tell them…” Alhaitham can’t help a small smile as hears you mumble, “Wouldn’t it be weird if we said different things? Though, it’s not like you’d ever lie about it…”

The commute is far from quiet, but Alhaitham finds that he does not mind.

It’s only when he gets to work that he finds that he minds quite a bit when your arrival reminds him of why he’s been avoiding the inevitable meeting between his friends and you. He knows there is no escaping the noise when the first person he sees upon entering the doors of his office is Kaveh.

“Oh, you’re early for once, Alhaitham,” Kaveh greets him. He looks past Alhaitham at you. “Wait, who’s this?”

Alhaitham takes a quick glance at you looking ready as ever before saying simply, “My fiancé.”

You wave cheerily at his coworkers (and friends) as they all stop to stare before the dam breaks. Alhaitham clicks his tongue and goes to clock in as you take meeting his coworkers (and friends) in stride. He doesn’t worry about you; you are more than capable of handling yourself.

You are not hard to love, after all.

You can tell your fiancé wants nothing more than to put his headphones on and escape to his office, so you pat his shoulder to allow him to walk away unscathed, though he doesn’t leave right away. You would have been fine meeting his friends alone, but you admit that his presence at your side is comforting, even if he hasn’t spoken a single word besides introducing you. He probably finds you more suited to dealing with these questions and you find that you don’t mind at all.

Apparently, you’ve chosen a good day to visit because you get to meet the entire Sumeru Corporations cast.

Kaveh must be the pretty blond that has Alhaitham actually speaking, even if it’s to snark at something he’s said. You haven’t heard as many stories about him as you think Kaveh may deserve, mainly because he has been absent from work for a period of time for an extended project and then a much-needed vacation. You think they’re pretty close, despite Alhaitham and Kaveh’s constant bantering. You can see a hint of a smile beneath Alhaitham’s sarcasm.

Knowing Alhaitham’s zero-tolerance policy for people he truly cannot stand, including Kaveh in his stories about work and as a character in his comparisons (though admittedly they all beret Kaveh’s poor decision making) means Alhaitham likes Kaveh. Enough to be his close friend, if not best friend, if you can say so yourself.

Tighnari is the one to first congratulate you on your engagement. You don’t mean to be taken aback by the warm wishes, but you’re unused to it. Having an arranged marriage the way you did with Alhaitham takes the surprise out of the engagement that any congratulations you expected were to be at the wedding itself. Hearing it from someone, Alhaitham’s friends in particular, has your cheeks warm with pleasant surprise. Fiancé feels like a foreign word on your lips, but the reality settles in that you are Alhaitham’s fiancé, and you are his. It makes you the slightest bit giddy, the wedding a more tangible reality than ever.

Nilou is not far from Tighnari from giving you congratulations. Her joy is infectious, and you find it hard not to match her energy. Just from her tone of voice and the way she carries herself, you can tell that she’s sweet. You secretly hope that she and Alhaitham work together often; you think the dynamic between the two of them would work quite well. That and you think it’s funny to imagine your stoic fiancé with the ever-cheery Nilou.

Cyno introduces himself with a firm handshake and the most dad-joke you’ve ever heard in your life. Something about his dry delivery and its unexpectedness takes you by surprise, and you laugh, much to the bewilderment of the entire room. You see in your peripheral vision the resigned expression on Alhaitham’s face and feel pleased to know that he knows that these jokes are definitely in your wheelhouse, much to his chagrin. You must be one of the only people in the office who has found Cyno’s jokes funny because Cyno looks at Tighnari with an ‘I told you so’ look that Tighnari refuses to acknowledge.

(Tighnari also gives you a glance mixed between disbelief and dawning realization, because he supposes if there is anyone that can have Alhaitham fall in love with, it would be someone like you.)

“They’re a great person,” Cyno says to Alhaitham seriously. “You chose well.”

“I certainly did not have the ability to laugh at your jokes as part of my criteria for a spouse,” Alhaitham replies dryly, ignoring the smug look that Dehya keeps trying to throw at him.

“I’m so glad I happened to visit the office today,” Candace says, clasping her hands. Both her and Dehya were equally excited to meet you, and it does not take long until you are pulled into a conversation with her as the others hound Alhaitham, teasing him. You watch with a fond smile as Alhaitham is (unwillingly) surrounded by his closest friends. For a moment the two of you meet eyes ,and you can see a small smile peek through his exasperation that was meant for only you to see.

You’re smitten.

“I’m glad,” Candace tells you, a kind smile on her face. “The two of you look happy together. May your marriage be ever lasting and peaceful.”

“Thank you,” you say. You take another look at Alhaitham and feel your heart squeeze with unbridled affection. “I hope that comes true too.”

Eventually Alhaitham tells his coworkers that you have work to go to (a lie) and that you have better things to do than entertain them (another lie). Expectedly, they are quick to call him out, though you suppose you didn’t help his case, glancing back at him forlornly like a lost puppy that has him shooting you an exasperated look.

“Share your fiancé a little, why don’t you?” Dehya complains, putting her hands onto your shoulders and pulling you further from the door. Alhaitham narrows his eyes at your betrayal when you only shrug innocently. “You get to have them all to yourself all the time, what’s fifteen minutes gonna do?”

“I was thinking we were supposed to be working for the past fifteen minutes,” Alhaitham says.

“Since when were you such an exemplary worker?”

“When has excellence been defined by overtime? I finish what is needed by the time my shift is over.”

“Since you’re here,” Candace pipes up, ignoring the two's back and forth. She brings a set of files under her arm she got from her office– you wonder when she had left to do so. “I was wondering if you could update Alhaitham’s demographics. I’m sure there are some things that have changed like his address, emergency contact…” You are not mistaken when you hear the twinge of slyness in her voice, and you feel yourself fluster when she giggles.

Emergency contact, huh? One of his parents must be his current emergency contact, or even his grandmother. You know it is common to have the spouse as the emergency contact, but well, you’re neither Alhaitham’s spouse (yet) nor bothered to concern yourself with what is ‘normal’ or ‘common’ when it comes to your unconventional fiancé. When you open your mouth to say you’re only going to change the address, Alhaitham tells you, “You only need to put your cell number. A work number isn’t necessary.”

“It is very much recommended if you can, but I understand if you can’t!” Candace provides helpfully, though you are still reeling at the permission given to add yourself onto the emergency contacts. You feel as though most would not make such a big deal out of it, but you are embarrassingly pleased at how Alhaitham expects you to be his emergency contact– the first one to be called when he needs it most.

You write down your number with a sense of great importance.

“Let me walk you to the entrance,” Alhaitham says once you finish filling out the form, much to your amusement.

“Hold up, so soon?” Dehya says, grinning. “We didn’t even get to ask your fiancé if you’ve been good to them yet.”

At this, Kaveh scoffs. “That’s for sure. Speaking from experience, Alhaitham was never the best roommate out there.”

“The same could be said with you,” Alhaitham shoots back. “Have you outgrown the habit of doing DIY projects until dawn or have your neighbors finally grown tired of filing noise complaints?”

“You-! At least I don’t leave a mess everywhere I go!”

“Do you mean his books?” You ask, and you try not to fidget when they all turn to you. “He used to leave them in a lot of places, but he’s been really good at putting them in his bookshelves when he’s done.” You laugh. “I think he’s just afraid I’ll spill some food onto it.”

At this, Kaveh gives Alhaitham a long look that Alhaitham returns equally. “I guess even marriage changes people like Alhaitham, huh?” He comments with a hint of amusement.

“I have a question!” Nilou says, raising her hand. You can’t help but smile at the gesture. “Are those baubles in Alhaitham’s office gifts from you?”

You blink. “The what?”

“Oh, you mean the drinking bird and Newton's Cradle?” Tighnari asks. “They appeared suddenly one day, and I’ve been wondering if he purchased it himself, but now that I think about it, of course he didn’t.”

You remember buying those gifts for Alhaitham, but when you didn’t see them at home, you assumed he stored them away; out of sight, out of mind, after all. Whatever Alhaitham wanted to do with your gifts is to his discretion, but the fact he brought them to work to decorate his (most likely) minimalist desk makes you a little happy.

“Wasn’t there a small dish with a few marbles in them too?” Cyno comments. When he shares a look with Tighnari, his smile grows. “I remember them showing up the same time as the other two…”

“I got those for him too,” you say. “I thought they looked like the color of his eyes.” You vaguely hear Nilou and Candace coo at your words, but you only have eyes for Alhaitham. “I didn’t know you had them here,” you say, warmth seeping into your voice.

For a moment, Alhaitham opens his mouth without saying a single word. It is only a momentary lapse, but you grin up at him when it happens, spotting the hint of color on his cheeks. “If I had thrown them away, you would have noticed them in the trash,” Alhaitham says, and you have to admit the man has an impressive recovery rate.

“Oh yeah,” you say lightly, and you can see the dawning realization on Alhaitham’s face as he sees what you intend to say next. “Like that inflatable boyfriend I got you-”

Kaveh laughs suddenly as though it was surprised out of him. “What-?” He wheezes. “Are you talking about those-”

“I ended his misery before he could come to full fruition,” Alhaitham says flatly, and you can’t help but laugh with the rest of his friends. “I was merciful. He should be grateful to me, actually.”

(What happened to never needing thanks from anyone? Kaveh thinks, his shoulder shaking from the residual laughter as Alhaitham finally successfully wrangles you from the office’s grasp and toward the exit. Kaveh watches as the two of you talk to each other easily, your smile never leaving your face as you look up at Alhaitham and Alhaitham’s hand not once letting go of yours as he guides you.

He is gentle with you, Kaveh notes, and he wonders if you realize how you are possibly one of the only people in the world to have been allowed to see this side of him.

Kaveh was joking earlier, but he was a little serious too, that marriage has changed Alhaitham just the tiniest bit. Or not marriage specifically, he thinks. Love is a more powerful motivator, and he knows full well that Alhaitham is as susceptible to emotion as anyone else, even if he pretends not to be.

He wonders if he’ll be allowed to have a say in the wedding decorations.)

For both your sake and his (though mainly his), Alhaitham prevents you from getting held back by his friends and walks you out as far as it’s allowed without leaving the building. He realizes that this is one of the few times that he has held your hand, and he knows you don’t mind when you squeeze his hand as the two of you walk past the receptionist. It feels as equally novel as it is natural, and Alhaitham knows immediately this is something that the two of you will get used to doing very quickly.

Alhaitham hears you laugh to yourself again and he huffs in amusement. “You seem happy,” he says. When you nod in agreement, he continues, “I’m sure you probably have a lot of reasons, but can I ask why anyways?”

You smile up at him, beautiful as always. Alhaitham feels his chest tighten for a moment, and it is gone as fast as it came. “You told them I was your fiancé,” you tell him with a hint of bashfulness.

“Yes,” he says, “because you are.”

At this, you just shrug, the smile never leaving your face. “It’s just nice to hear, is all.” He feels you squeeze his hand again before letting go. “Alright, well, I’ll see you later tonight when I pick you up?”

Alhaitham opens his mouth to speak but finds that it takes him a moment to say something, distracted by how his heart picked up its pace for seemingly no reason at all. “Yes, I get off at exactly five, so whenever you can come around that time would be fine.”

“Okay,” you say. The two of you stand face-to-face and for a moment it looks as though you had tip-toed to do something but changed your mind. Your lips press together into a complicated smile before you shake your head. “See you then!” You tell him before he can understand what you meant to do.

Alhaitham watches as you walk to your car. When you turn back to look at him (somehow, he knew that you would) and wave, he feels his heartbeat loudly in his ears.

*Mulan reference: "Now all of China knows you're here."

taglist:

@crowbird @thetwinkims @jaguarthecat @kibbly-bibbly @tanspostsblog @dxstopiaa @theprinceofkhaos @homeinhobii @nagisuterus @sleep-deprivedracoon @scentedcandlesandcookies @secretlyrexlapis @yoimyas @teapartyspilled @herbal-tea-and-manga @quintessentialdreaming @detectivesparrow @certaindreampost @kazuharem @pixelsocs @nekogakuro @escapeis @loki-zos-galvus

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x reader #i enjoyed adding the sumeru crew in a lot!!!! that was fun #BEHOLD another finished chapter it be getting longer #much love to those that like this fic <333

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sxgarp0pz · 28 days

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"Mrooow?"— Ramshackle x cat reader Hcs.

GN READER. Cw: death/injury joke, may possibly be OOC In which, reader is a strangely smart cat— a specific three scraps’s cat. did they adopt reader? Of course not! Yet they’re here to stay ****************************************************** • Now, how exactly did they all meet? Cat!reader found them a stash of beans, and the scraps gave them affection. That’s it. And from then on cat!reader stuck around!

“No, we are not keeping that thing- we can barely afford to feed ourselves.” Stone said harshly. “But stooneee,” skipp whined, “they found us beans!” stone was silent for a moment, hearing what just came out of the other male’s mouth. “what the f—”

•They ended up letting cat!reader hang around, as long as they kept finding things for them.

•also, they nicknamed cat!reader whiskers. Of course they still call the kitty by name, but it’s just more fun that way. they’re truly a little endearing pack, aren’t they. •Vinnie definitely treats them like a truffle pig or bloodhound, having them sniff around for everything they need

•She also gave cat! a little bandanna! (even if it’s a little worn down, its still lovely<3) • I imagine them having a little stack of old newspapers laying kinda like a nest? Right by where they all sleep

• I can see the two of them’s relationship could be like an orange cat and a black cat.

• Skipp likes to practice his music with cat!reader around, as cat!reader always give feedback- whether it’s a flick of their tail or a purr, he’s appreciative

•It’s the same with any of his other hobbies, they’re always right there.

•Skipp is usually the one to carry them, in his arms or on his shoulders.

•The two of them’s relationship is most definitely like a golden retriever who talks, and a black cat who listens.

•Stones an interesting one,, if skipp’s not carrying them, they’re most likely laying on his shoulders!

• I love the idea that he calls them whiskers the most out of the three.

•Sometimes when Stone’s laying down or finally took it off, they’ll snuggle into his coat.

•I imagine the two of them’s relationship is like two black cats. One caring brooding void, and one silly void!

•This isn’t to say cat!reader’s an angel, no. They’re really quite a trouble-maker to the town, honestly.

•No one can’t leave bread of fruit on shelves or vendors, lest they scamper off with it. • I can see cat!reader picking fights with the actual “proper” pets, cat or dog but especially birds.

•Their first reaction to maggot was to immediately lightly bap his face, but then they felt bad so they started caring for him.

• When the pageant came, cat!reader begrudgingly switched out their bandanna for a white “necktie” (it was just a clean piece of ribbon)

•I can see cat!reader ending up scratching someone who booed at maggot

•I imagine that when the fight happened, they were going all out and ended up being like that party cat meme. “Beauty pageant horror!: rogue feline attack, 5 dead 9 injured”

• All in all, I see Maggot & cat!reader’s relationship like; weird kitten/over-protective sibling cat BONUS: they were given a toy mouse by maggot

((I have never done anything like this, so feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send asks if you’d like as well, I’ll get back to them soon as possible!!))

#ramshackle #ramshackle pilot #ramshackle stone #skipp ramshackle #vinnie ramshackle #ramshackle x reader #maggot ramshackle #Ramshackle skipp #ramshackle vinnie #Ramshackle x cat!reader #Platonic ramshackle #Ramshackle hcs

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celosiaceo · 7 months

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“And Maybe, I’ll Say Maybe”

Leander x GN!Reader

Description: The leader of the Bloodhounds, a famously kind and generous man who would without as much as another give a newcomer a roof over their head, food on their plate and an oasis of normalcy to come back to after drowning in the insanity of Eridia. He’s been nothing but a hero to this newcomer, seeking to provide them with love comfort they couldn’t even dream of before. It almost feels too good to be true. So what happens to be lurking deep within, and what comes spilling out from beneath the flashy mask when the newcomer finds out something they shouldn’t have about their chivalrous saviour..?

Tags: blood, descriptions of sickness, descriptions of violence, descriptions of death

Word count: 7000

Eridia felt like an entirely different city beneath the veil of darkness. The barely lit streets and shrouded alleys felt like a maze cast in a layer of dust.

The dark stretches of houses failed to look any different from each other as I dashed past them, panting for air and taking random turns while praying for my escape.

Left.

Right.

Left

Right.

Left.

Right.

My heart jumped from my throat to my stomach and back up with every turn I made. My gasps for air muted out almost everything else. Everything, but him chasing after me.

My lungs burned for air, my throat irritated by the cold as whatever I breathed in had no time to heat up. The wind hit my dampening eyes, I kept blindly making turns, and yet I couldn’t lose him.

I felt as if I was going in circles, the streets refused to be different. Or I was just unable to even see where the hell I was going. All I knew is that he was still behind me. And not far at all.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Adrenaline pushed most of my body’s pain out while I kept running, terrified of even beginning to turn around. Afraid to see him being right at my heel.

My heart beat as if it was trying to run out of my body. The rate of my pulse matched the heart’s urge to rip itself out.

And yet, from him, I heard nothing but the fast clicking of his boots against the pavement. He was way stronger than me, and he knew it damn well himself.

I didn’t even dare think of when the adrenaline would run out, and what I would do then.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

In the darkness of the increasingly less illuminated streets, I almost ran into a wall while making a turn. The space began to feel narrower and narrower. Perhaps because of the panic exploding in my head. Perhaps because I was getting myself that deep into the city. Perhaps because I was setting up my own trap.

It felt as if my airway was closing. My throat was beginning to get sore. Like I could suffocate from one wrong breath. The pain began to trickle back into me as the adrenaline seeped out. My heart pounded with pure terror, my brain scattering as if it were blasted with a hunting rifle.

Every step hurt and my legs felt as though infinite needles stabbed into every muscle. The left side of my stomach, just under the ribs, broke out in torturous pain. I barely bit back a pained cry. One arm clasping at my side, I forced myself to run.

His speed did not even falter.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

At this point, I was gasping for air as if I were drowning. I knew I wasn’t running nearly as fast, yet he stayed at a distance. Was he indulging in this? Was he playing with his food? But… that isn’t like him, like many things I thought weren’t.

My fingers almost stabbed into my side to keep the excruciating pain at bay. I made the same turns, my mind turning into mush as it again began to feel like I was circling. Those narrow alleys did not stand out from each other, almost pitch black.

But then, the streets began to widen again. With newfound hope, I sprinted and clenched my jaw. Involuntary tears streamed down my cheeks. He began to catch up again.

The first triple crossroad. I began to try and twist and turn along the streets again, seeing this as a last chance to escape. This had to be it. This had to be my gate to freedom.

Left.

Right.

Ahead.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Ahead.

The clamped dustier air of the alleys was replaced with fresh cold air again. Hope had sprung the pain away a little. I ran like I never ran before, neglecting every screaming muscle in my legs and chest.

My pulse pounded heavily in my head. I thought it was a hallucination, but it sounded like he was falling behind. Another turn. Indeed. Yes. Oh Allmother yes.

I soared with glee. I found the energy to keep running despite my body self-disintegrating in a way. It felt so close, freedom felt so close.

Another turn. I snapped my head to the side. He wasn’t there. Oh Allmother. He wasn’t there. It’s so close to the end now. I sprinted. Another turn.

Shit.

A dead end.

My eyes darted.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

My stomach dropped. The body was paralyzed as if frozen instantly in place. All of the pain suddenly erupted into the muscles. His steps were no longer heard. My breath sped up as all the energy sprung to my brain.

Think.

The dead end was full of litter, empty boxes, rotting planks, and reeking trash. A small balancing construction of planks in the left corner that leaned against the wall barely stood out from the clutter.

Without a second thought, I crawled in under it. My head almost nudged one of the planks. I quietly moved up a box to further hide myself from the right, curling up to be most obscured by it.

It was still dark on that street. Now for me, it was even darker, with only a small triangle above my head serving as my unobscured view.

The smell of rotting, decomposing wood surrounded me. My stomach churned. I clasped a hand over my mouth despite my lungs begging for more air. The pain in every muscle of my torso and legs made me feel like my fleshy carcass would crawl out from the skin and air itself out.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and saliva overflowed in my previously dry mouth, almost making me choke. My heart was nowhere near calm either, craving more oxygen like the rest of my body, wanting me to gulp it like a thirsty human in a desert.

My hands went into a small tremor as I hugged my legs tighter to my chest and buried my face into my knees. I didn’t want to risk moving anything, Allmother forbid it falls loudly.

It was still quiet. Distant noises of a calm Eridian night began to settle. Barely audible crickets, someone’s window closing, echoing music from the Amaryllis district, a Soulless growling far away.

Despite my body wanting to writhe away from the stress, my mind began to calm down. It was futile, but I tried to calm my aching flesh down with small circular motions over my stomach. Perhaps he has lost sight of me after all.

I completely lost track of time. As far as I knew, an hour could’ve passed. Could’ve been a minute or less. I would be none the wiser. No approaching sound. Nothing. Soon, as my ears got used to the smaller sounds, everything began to fall dead silent.

There was only the sound of my breath hitting my hand, but that was no less unnerving. When could I come out? Has he gone back? Is he still looking for me? Would he still be looking for me after however much has passed? Everything felt like a haze.

The silence was simultaneously disturbing and soothing. Disturbing, because imagining a city like Eridia this quiet was unnerving. Yet there it was. Soothing, because no steps were approaching. No voices calling out into the darkness.

The anxiety and paranoia were nibbling at my sanity from the inside out. What should I do? There’s nothing I could possibly do to verify how much time has passed when I can consider myself safe. I felt antsy and uncomfortable. There wasn’t even room to squirm in fear of the planks falling.

Doubts began to creep into my mind. What if he just left? He could expect me to bump into him tomorrow, or soon enough anyway. Without him I barely had anything. No money, no food, no water, no roof over my head. It slowly started to settle just how much control he had over my life here in Eridia, the horrifying extent to which I was completely helpless in this strange place on my own. How desperate to stay away did he think I am? Because I didn’t know either.

Against a human, my hiding spot could work, but not against any Soulless, their heightened senses would definitely feel human flesh between some decomposed planks and a box.

A thought crossed my mind. I have no idea where I am. I was still in Eridia, that much I knew. The buildings weren’t the well-lit and flashy ones of the entertainment district, that much is certain. But the same applies to almost anywhere else. Everywhere in Lowtown looked similar, the streets barely differed between one another. Where do I even go for the night, or, actually, a couple of nights? I had to learn the hard way that no one here will stick their neck out for you unless they get something out of it too. Which is the opposite of my case. Why would anyone here hide someone the Bloodhounds would undoubtedly be on the lookout for? They’re local heroes, so I’d definitely be the villain to them if Leander were to say so. The realizations sunk in like stones into my stomach, weighing me down onto the ground one after another and making me wish I could fall through the cobblestone.

My train of thought stopped dead in its tracks, and my breathing hitched. My hand clasped tightly over my mouth. My fingernails stabbed into my cheek.

A quiet humming began to fade in, accompanied by a familiar clicking of boots. All too familiar.

No.

He kept approaching. His voice was but a quiet, smooth sound in the deadly silence. His humming chimed to the rhythm set by his slow steps. He knew I was nearby.

He kept walking. Getting closer, like death itself coming after a plagued animal.

Right.

Left.

He took the same turns. As I could tell from the sounds only coming nearer.

There was a ringing in my ears like a church bell ringing right next to me. Again, I was frozen. The faint sound of his voice, like the realization of my impending doom, had paralyzed me.

My eyes involuntarily bulged, threatening to pop out of their sockets. My heart raced. I almost wanted to rip it out, fearing he could hear it.

My lungs curled in on themselves, making me suffocate. But I couldn’t even gasp for air. The pathetic amount of air I could get through my hand wasn’t nearly enough.

Perhaps suffocating would be a better fate. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if he found me. My mind clawed at the inner side of my skull, screaming in an attempt to escape this.

But there was nowhere to go. I was caged between decomposing wood to my back and left, and two walls of stone to my right and front. Trapped. I was trapped. There was no way I could move the box away without making a sound or being seen. I couldn’t get out of a dead end without being noticed by him. Not when he was twenty steps or less away.

My insides churned and squirmed. They also wanted to escape this doomed fleshy shell and run. But, just like I, they were bound in place.

He kept humming something. As he got closer, I couldn’t recognize what it was. A lullaby? A ballad? I didn’t know. It barely mattered. My pulse thudded in my head and throughout my body was still louder.

He was here. Just ten steps away. Maybe even at the same exact spot where I froze, seeking a hiding spot.

A small green light stabbed through the little triangle of space just above my head. Of course. He’d want a good look around. Drag out the fun and commit it to memory for the best of indulgence.

My muscles couldn’t relax, as if a force of terror was keeping them painfully tense, wishing to run but having no escape. I squeezed my side against the wall, my free hand pressing my head down more. My eyes cast to the triangle, observing.

The green light didn’t rest over a single inch of my skin, at the cost of me feeling like some of my bones would snap in half. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. Maybe he’d spare me.

He just kept pacing the area in circles. Humming the same song. For a moment, he stopped. My heart skipped a beat. Did he find me?

No. Not yet. He cleared his throat. Then he began to walk even closer. To the piles of debris.

He began to sing.

A slow, painfully slow song. It felt as though a knife was being dragged over my neck, just shy of stabbing. He hummed the same slow tune, louder. Like he sang to someone. My heart dropped to my stomach. Time itself seemed to slow down.

He knew I was there. No doubt about it.

“Maybe… you’ll think of me”

“When you are all alone…”

His voice was low and rich. I never heard him sing before. His voice could even be calming, but all it did was make all color fade from my face.

His voice was like dark honey. Deep, sweet, flowing smoothly, and with an addictive drag to it. Had ambrosia been a sound, it would’ve been his voice. If it weren’t the source of my deathly horror, I’d want to drown in it. It had a pinch of sultriness, I didn’t know if it was to mock me or to tempt me.

While he sang, he kept walking through the small area, as if dragging out a high. As if letting me simmer in a feeling of doom.

“Maybe… the one who is waiting for you”

“Will prove untrue…”

By his steps, he seemed to dance along while walking forward. His trenchcoat rustled in the air when he made a turn. For a moment, his singing stopped.

The sounds of wood breaking and falling stabbed the ‘serenity’ of the moment. I could feel my pulse halt. He kicked down some of the debris. A thought involuntarily crept into my head: would my bones sound the same if he were to snap them broken?

“Then, what will you do..?”

He dragged out the note and chuckled after it faded off. He was aware of me listening. A solo performance for a one-person audience. The last feast. Meanwhile, I could barely breathe, like a hypnotized mouse before a serpent.

Another pile of mold-ridden wood was broken. I couldn’t help but shudder. Just how amusing was this to him?

I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t want to. Ever again. I would rather amputate my own arms with a blunt rock than face him. Silently, I prayed. Prayed that he would just stop this torment and turn around and go back the way he came from.

“Maybe you’ll sit and sigh…”

“Wishing that I were near…”

My eyes dampened. I realized I had not blinked in too long, staring into the triangle of green light as much as my eyes could shift to the side without me needing to move my head.

I couldn’t help a shiver breaking out all over my body. The wall was cold, and every neural ending was times more reactive to any stimulus. Every inch of my flesh was inflamed, squirming and writhing like worms.

Simultaneously the sensations of a scorching fever burned me from the inside and the sweat soaking my skin froze my flesh on the outside in abrupt waves. I felt sick from the torturous contrast, my body sending itself into a cycle of confusion and physically manifested panic.

All while, his steps kept resounding against the pavement, for a moment in what sounded like the rhythm of a waltz.

“Then…”

“Maybe… you’ll ask me… to come back again”

Yet again, he kicked something broken and I couldn’t help another shudder, almost expecting his gilded boot to collide with my side. It sounded like he broke a box. I felt nauseated, my mouth suddenly salivating out of control as if I had actually gotten sick. Almost inaudibly, I gulped.

“And maybe, I’ll say maybe…”

He savored every note and dragged it out, his voice and steps would’ve undoubtedly swept me from my feet, had this not been the situation. He hummed the slow melody as if he were serenading me.

Suddenly, an extremely bitter, burning sensation arose in my throat. I kept my hand glued to my mouth, gulping back the overflowing saliva. My stomach flipped dangerously. I wanted to vomit from the explosion of sheer panic, but I had to hold it back.

I felt sick to my core. And him? He continued waltzing along the dead street, his shadow occasionally dancing over the little triangle of view I had.

His alluring voice became just a deliberate bit more sultry like he was flirting. As if he couldn’t just bring on my very death. Cruel. He was cruel. And I was too late to see it.

My shivering stopped, and his steps began to get closer. I couldn’t look at the triangle anymore, my eyes squeezed shut.

“Maybe… you’ll think of me”

“When you are all alone…”

I could hear the familiar smile in his voice. There was not a single doubt in my mind that he felt my agony and thoroughly indulged in it like an aged fine wine. He was punishing me for running in the first place. Especially for running this long. For giving him a hard time.

Tears began to prick at my eyes again, my second hand clutching my stomach again. The circular motions were a futile attempt at stopping the twisting and writhing of my organs.

He only drew nearer. Once again he destroyed a piece of nearby junk. And, again, I flinched. A desperate part of my mind wanted to just be dead already. This act that he was drawing out was too much for both my sanity and my body.

I forced myself to glance at the triangle. The green light was becoming blocked by him. He was starting to come into view. I couldn’t see his face yet, all I knew was that I didn’t want to. Another futile prayer was made in my head. Of course, it didn’t stop him. It felt like not even the Allmother could.

“Maybe the one who is waiting for you…”

“Will prove untrue…”

The daunting spilling of his soft voice made my mind spiral into insanity. I felt neurotic, there was nothing I could do in my self-made trap. He knew it. He kept taunting me with precision, somehow knowing how to press all the buttons with seemingly so little.

Now I could slightly hear the dangling of his jewelry, the quiet rustling of his trench coat. I froze again, eyes squeezing shut almost as soon as I opened them. I wished I could be able to pretend like he’ll disappear if I kept my eyes closed.

He stopped a step away from me. My heart began to pick up pace again. My legs ached in near primal instinct to run. Except there was nowhere. Only right into his arms.

Stepping to the side, he kicked some debris right behind my trap into the wall. It all broke with a hopeless crack. I knew what was coming next. And he knew that. Perhaps I was playing right into his hand all along.

The next thing I knew, the large box concealing me from the right was destroyed into timbers against the wall I was facing.

“Then what will I do..?”

The box was demolished. A pitiful pile of sawdust and mold slumped against the wall. It took him barely any effort. My breath halted in my throat, almost making me choke on the air. At last, I was completely exposed. Nothing hid me from him anymore. I was just a cornered animal now. I could lift my head to see his face, but my body froze in place, almost like it was playing dead.

The green light hit me where his silhouette didn’t conceal me from it. There was truly no escape from him, which my stunned mind needed a reminder of. My stomach dangerously thrashed again, my eyes bulging wide open as they darted to his boots. I could taste the corrosive bitterness on the further end of my tongue and in my throat.

A deep dread was nailed tightly into my head as if slowly knocked deep into the brain with each step of his. I couldn’t move. My head started spinning, a blunt pain echoing through the rest of my body as I felt like I was on the brink of death. It took me my last bit of restraint not to vomit or lose consciousness.

“Maybe, you’ll sit and sigh”

“Wishing that I were near…”

He spun on his heel one last time while stretching out the soft note, letting it bleed out into the all-consuming silence. With it, the whole pinch of hope that my mind desperately held onto fell dead.

His singing paused. His earring jingled and he let out a quiet chuckle. All of this stopped being real. There is no way that this is happening to me. There is no way that I’m here, about to die in a pile of moody wood in the middle of the night. At the hand of someone I once considered my anchor. My savior, even. When did all of it go wrong? When was the point of no return?

He slowly crouched down to me, fully coming into view. Leander’s green eyes, soft before, now looked dead and empty. As they stared into my mortified expression, all I could see in his was a hardly veiled glow of sadistic glee. Leander was smiling. The same little smile as always. But this time it felt so sinister. Was it really different from how he smiled before, or did it take being cornered like this to see what Leander’s smile stood for all along?

“Then,”

“Maybe you’ll ask me to come back again…”

I couldn’t tell if Leander’s voice beckoned me like a siren’s call, or mocked my helplessness. Perhaps both. I felt small, crumpled into a futilely defensive position right before him. All while he sang. As if to sedate me in my last moments.

Leander’s eyes faintly crinkled when he tilted his head to the side, propping his cheek on his fist. He took in my vulnerability and how exposed I was. It was clearly intoxicating to him, Leander took it in like a good flush of alcohol straight to the heart. There was joy to it for Leander, his high-fazed smile felt so familiar, like all the times he smiled at me during the late nights at the Wick when he had quite a bit to drink. In that familiarity, for a moment Leander’s gaze appeared soft like it always did, but there was an unsettling darkness to it that surfaced, or only just became noticeable. Seeing it now broke me out of the trance, the illusion of tenderness that I saw moments prior was gone like a mirage. Leander observed me almost animalistically, I wanted to crawl out of my skin just to escape his eyes.

Tears involuntarily streamed down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop staring with terror right back at Leander, all while he observed with eerie amusement. My whole body broke out into a shiver, unable to stop itself from almost feverish tremors. Leander’s eyes, his smile, his voice, everything about him now was almost the same as always, but his presence made me feel like I was drowning in ice-cold waters that had no end.

In my last shred of hope, I almost wanted to deny all of this. This wasn’t Leander. Leander was someone who always offered a shoulder to cry on, someone who would go out of his way to keep everyone at peace and happy, someone who would smile along with everyone and be the soul of the company. Akin to a gentle giant.

This was someone else entirely. This was someone who gave a thoroughly long, outright draining chase, someone who held out a sense of false security and crushed it with deliberate cruelty, someone who took certain joy in feeling another’s torment at his hand and thoroughly savored it, indulged in it. Someone purely evil. Someone entirely malevolent.

Maybe it was there all along. Perhaps I was looking at a mask, a trap to lure desperate ones like me. Now it didn’t matter. It was too late. I was merely cattle waiting to be slaughtered. A lamb waiting to be sacrificed. Leander’s finger tapped against the side of his knee to the slow beat of the song. It was an almost tranquil scene. Nauseatingly so. Much akin to poison slowly seeping into the tissues of my body. I still couldn’t move, to Leander it all came with mocking ease.

“And maybe, I’ll say maybe…”

The last note went on and on, like the painfully sweet aftertaste of honey. Or like the bitterness of poison. Then it cut off. Everything fell into a suffocating silence once more. I wanted to stab it, gut it with a scream that was trying to scratch its way out of my lungs. But my body stayed still, save for the tremor, like it was turned to stone once Leander looked at me.

And Leander knew what he was doing all too well. Off-puttingly too well. It was cheap, even dirty of him, to do this to someone so much weaker than him. But that wouldn’t change the facts. I was pinned down under Leander’s gently menacing gaze like a new butterfly in a lepidopterist’s collection.

Once he took in the undoubtedly addicting silence, Leander offered another quiet laugh, his earring jiggling when he shook his head a little. Leander’s eyes were partly lidded, the lighting making the purple darkness around his eyelids seem deeper. His expression was mockingly comforting, making a visage of consolation that I would’ve fallen for even earlier today seem disturbing instead. Leander was almost pitying me, both of us knowing I was at his mercy.

I was undoubtedly cornered. There was nothing I could do in my exhausted and deteriorated state that could let me put up more than a second’s worth of a fight.

Leander didn’t need an intimidating face to instill the kind of horror I’d never felt before. His face could look however soft, but he knew at what moment to make others aware of his strength. And now I couldn’t think about anything else. Leander was way broader, stronger, way more powerful with magic, times more resilient, he knew the city way better. My eyes had never been veiled, so how have I not once noticed just how enormous he is? Not even a miracle could save me.

And, as if on cue with reading my thoughts, his smile slightly widened to reveal a dimple. Leander bit a glove off his hand and let it drop onto the pavement. My heart hammered painfully in my chest while his big smooth hand reached closer. My eyes hurt from crying, but hot tears wouldn’t stop flowing at all.

“Oh, what happened, sweetheart?” Leander cooed, brows lowering in staged concern. His hand enveloped the side of my face and held it firmly in place while his thumb wiped the tears off my cheek. I could feel the strength of his hand, he made it clear that he could crush my face at any moment, even if now he continued the gentle act for his entertainment.

Against the heat of Leander’s big hand, I could feel just how cold my face was, it was like that of a corpse. My lips trembled, I couldn’t assemble a single word, as if I forgot how to speak altogether. All that came out was a pathetic mumbly noise.

My body felt like porcelain now, his hand feeling like a sledgehammer just shy of shattering me to pieces. Leander’s control of his strength slipped so rarely that now I feel like each time was deliberate. He tried so hard to seem gentle, but would sometimes grab my hand a little too hard, hold me a little too firmly. Just how much of what I knew about Leander’s persona was consistent veiled threats?

Leander kept caressing my face almost with care, his familiar smile again reminding me of all the warnings that I missed. “Can’t talk at all, hm? Speak to me, dear, don’t worry, everything’s alright now. You’re safe.” Leander reassured, squeezing my face while his free hand reached for my wrist. He was crouched on one knee now, empty green eyes not shifting from me at all.

I pulled my hand away from his like it was about to touch a flock of poison ivy. Again, I could barely muster anything. I gulped, and a quiet sob broke out past my lips. “Stop…” a barely audible plea managed to crawl out with great effort. His smile tugged a bit wider. A glimmer of the same glee shone brighter in his eyes.

“Your face is so cold, darling. You’ve been out here for too long. Don’t you know not to walk around at night? It’s cold and dangerous. Many have reminded you of that.” Leander mused, slightly tilting his head when he caught my wrist. His grip was strong, like a metal shackle. My whole arm kept trembling. Even trying to pull back would be devoid of purpose .

Leader’s eyes. I couldn’t stop staring into them. The same soft green eyes that were once synonymous with comfort and safety were now bottomless swamps. They were devoid of warmth or solace, pulling me endlessly deeper into their darkness and suffocating me, drowning me in their sickening venom. Cold, vacant of a soul, but still hypnotizing as all hell as if he were a hunting serpent and I was its prey. Absolutely unreadable and confusing like a hoard of slithering snakes. Alluring, but reflecting sheer cruelty and only a semblance of happiness from observing my suffering. Leander’s gaze was outright chilling. It was an imperceivable horror in itself, something almost cosmically vast and terrifying as a result. Nothing I’ve ever seen in anyone’s eyes until Leander. Hauntingly beautiful. Frightening, petrifying, and paralyzing, but fascinating in the most nauseating way. It felt like watching an asteroid crash a step away from me as it destroys everything in sight. Like the stomach-churning inability to look away from gory disaser while everything ends. If looks could kill, his eyes would grant me a merciless death of excruciating torment.

He began to tug at my wrist. My hands balled up into fists. I tensed as much as possible, not letting Leander move me from my place. Leander laughed under his breath and leaned in closer to me, his broad shoulders fully blocking out the pitiful space between this self-made cage and my freedom. With that same almost endearing little smile, he said “It’s so chilly right now, look at you shaking all over. Don’t you want to get back to the Wick? You know I can help you find your way back. I can always help you. I can always keep you safe. Just trust me.” His bangs fell over his eyes, concealing a good third of his face.

I still couldn’t say a word. I knew that any movement from my current place would pull me closer into my demise. But not moving would only make him angrier. Not even my curse could affect Leander, so any resistance of mine would be like trying to move a brick wall. All I did was stare at his face, at his faintly smug smile and void-like eyes. My eyes just kept watering because I kept forgetting to blink, subconsciously afraid of dying the second my eyes would close.

Leander’s grip tightened around my wrist, my hand began to feel even colder than it was as the blood circulation began to get cut off. His expression almost felt stuck in place, it felt increasingly off-putting and uncanny the more I looked at it.

“Please…just let me go… I… I won’t say anything… I swear…” I wheezed, my words crawling out barely louder than the crushing silence. My voice was broken, my tears cracking it at every other syllable. It felt futile, but it took me all my effort to beg for my life, to show that I didn’t give up just yet.

I could almost hear the bones in my wrist crack and squelch as Leander latched onto it so tight I almost screamed. My jaw clenched, I couldn’t help squirming. My other hand scratched at Leander’s wrist, but he didn’t move a muscle.

“Oh, my dear, it’s such an awful night for walks today! There’s never a rush to walk around, plus I can always help you find warmer clothes and keep you company, you don’t need a reminder of that, do you? I can’t help but wonder what made you get out of your warm and comfortable room to explore the freezing streets! I’d love to hear all about it while I guide you back, what do you say?” The same upbeat, cheerful tone as when he first held my hand and let me touch his face. He ignored my pleas as if I never opened my mouth at all. He didn’t even show a single sign of guilt, remorse, or doubt... Leander had something specific he wanted to hear, otherwise, I could as well stay silent and embrace my fate.

I had a suspicion I couldn’t say what he wanted me to. After what I saw… I knew I couldn’t. He silently demanded it from me, but he also knew there was a chance he wouldn’t get it out of me.

We stared into each other’s eyes. His greens held a demanding flame that was only spreading, scorching over every inch of my being with time. Leander gave me a chance to say what I needed to. But he made it clear without any words that his patience wasn’t infinite and was very much wearing thin.

Leander’s hand kept slowly crushing my wrist while the other moved from my face to the back of my head. It crept along my scalp, then slowly began to grab a fistful of my hair. Tightly. I hissed, hot tears bleeding out of my hurting eyes. Neither of us dared break eye contact. My time was ticking. Leander was still smiling.

I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t. That thought just kept repeating infinitely in my head. Even if I lied, it would only give me so little to live. Leander’s Bloodhounds are loyal without question and would sniff me out from hell itself. Or he could always find me himself. Like today. I couldn’t be safe if I lied, and the fate that would befall me would be times worse than if I stayed silent now.

Leander began to pull my head backward by the hair, bending my neck out while my pulse began to hammer again. I couldn’t look away from him, my eyes still pleading and begging for any crumb of mercy while his kept demanding with newfound impatience, the curve of his lips wavering at the corner.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, it’s okay though, you seem a bit unlike yourself right now. What do you say to me walking you back to the Wick?” Leander questioned as a last warning, this being the first time a drop of the threat spilled into his voice.

I cried and sobbed while tilting my head back. “Just let me go… please, please, please… I beg you, please… I can’t die like this…” I begged almost hysterically while my scalp burned with the pain from the tugging. It wasn’t what Leander wanted, and it looks like he saw he wasn’t getting it out of me.

Suddenly, Leander’s smile dropped. It fell so quickly, as if it hadn't been melted onto his face ever since I met him. My heart plummeted deep down to my stomach. I felt incredibly nauseated all over again. I coughed at the feeling that could only be described as my heart trying to crawl out through my mouth. My time was up.

No…

NO!!!!

My breathing and heartbeat raced, and I began to struggle and thrash against Leander’s only further clenching grip. He did not back down. Didn’t even move a muscle to suppress my pitiful attempt.

With a violent jerk that shook all my innards, Leander stood up and yanked me onto my feet by the hair and wrist, throwing me at the wall. I yelped as my scalp throbbed with pain, my insides almost bouncing back from the wall at the strength of the impact.

The yelp turned into a broken scream when an indescribably painful crack came from my hand as it was slammed into the freezing wall. My head hit the planks when this happened, they almost broke at the impact and toppled over with a thud. I felt pain spreading from the top and the side of my head, it didn’t take long for warm trickles of blood to follow.

From my hair, Leander’s hand moved to seize hold of my neck. My pulse thudded against his hand with a feverish rhythm, like a useless reminder of my vitality. If anything, my panic entertained him.

His grasp was stone firm and trapping, only slightly shutting down my ability to breathe. That quickly began to change. I stared at Leander with nothing but pure dread when he lifted me to my tiptoes by the neck and leaned in close to my face. Leander forced me to witness his true monstrosity, one that he somehow concealed from most eyes for this long.

I squirmed and choked for air, coughing violently while my free limbs flailed hopelessly like the fins of a fish in the sand. Everything began to slip away.

His hand only kept clenching around my neck while he lifted me from the ground entirely. I choked and scratched at his hand and tried to bite him and begged, but it was all futile. All useless. His entirely unphased cold expression didn’t shift when my vision began to darken and become hazy at the corners. My head began to spin, my oxygen-hungry brain feeling dizzy.

“It seems you started taking the comfort, the safety I provided you with, and my kindness entirely for granted. Let me help you. Let me take you back, remind you where the line is.” His voice was a low growl, and Leander’s bloodthirsty, fury-filled eyes almost stabbed through mine when his face was inches from mine.

Croaky coughing and mumbling were all that could pass through my constricted vocal cords, but Leander kept speaking. “It saddens me so badly, dear. It breaks my heart. I didn’t dare ask for money, I didn’t even ask to recruit you. And this is my ‘thanks’? That just won’t do, Bloodhound rates or not.”

I wheezed and heaved, my body convulsing and writhing like a ball of worms. My nails stabbed into Leander’s leather glove and tried to scratch open his arm, but even with narrow streaks of red gleaming on his skin, he didn’t budge.

My field of vision further shrank. Leander’s face went in and out of focus, blurring and becoming overwhelmingly focused. Only his almost glowing green eyes didn’t fade. Shapes appeared in front of my eyes, the corners of my eyesight turning into dark static. “P…plea…se…” I croaked, what could be the last tears streaming from my face. My hands and feet were going cold as blood stopped normally circulating in my body. I started to lose feeling in my limbs. All while he mercilessly watched life draining from my eyes. Unmoving, like a statue. My eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through my stomach, pushing all the pitiful remains of air I had out of my lungs. A wet warmth spread on my clothes, accompanied by the pain scorching me from the inside out. Leander stabbed me in the stomach. My blood trickled down and soon began to drip onto the floor. Then it began vigorously gushing out once Leander harshly pulled the knife out.

The cold began to spread, and my heart’s slowing beats echoed through my head. I could barely see anything, everything around me turned into a darkening haze. Except for the green eyes, which stayed brightly gleaming with nothing while scrutinizing death overcoming mine. Like he was reading an alchemy book, not one emotion in his expression.

Leander dropped me onto the ground into the puddle of my own blood. For a little more, he watched me. Then came the last moment of clarity for my eyes, and I saw Leander smiling again. That same smile that was empty all along. A husk of comfort, like a theatrical mask.

Leander picked up his glove and began to turn away on his heel. “If you earn the miracle of waking up again, you’ll know to appreciate me, right, my dear?” He waited a moment more until my near-glassy eyes fell shut.

I could hear Leander’s slow steps and humming echo as the sounds became more and more obscured by the increasing distance and gentle ringing of Death’s embrace. His singing, soft like a rain cloud, coated my head in an almost soothing feeling while all senses faded. Leander’s siren’s call kept luring me away from life.

“Then,”

“Maybe you’ll ask me to come back again…”

“And maybe, I’ll say maybe…”

Until all my senses faded out like a wax-drowned candlelight. Until the world went dark and quiet.

BAD END

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