#leander x reader

[cannikii]

Spoiled.

Ais, Vere, Kuras, Mhin, Leander x Reader

a/n: i didnt mean to post this so late omg but i got distracted so bad by crk HAHAJ sorryy!! also, requests are open

notes: ais, vere, kuras, mhin, and leander x reader (seperately), they all love to spoil you, vere is a FLIRTT, leander is basically your sugar daddy, g/n reader, not proofread SORRY!

AIS — JEWLERY

ais liked the sight of jewlery on himself. he wore earrings, rings, bracelets, anything. he wouldn’t say he loved jewlery, because honestly, he would be fine with or without it.

so he thought nothing of it when you pointed at his bracelet, asking if you could try it on. he seemed pleasantly surprised at first before he grinned, slipping it off his wrist.

“sure, sparrow. go ‘head and put it on.”

since you had just come to the town recently, you had no accessories such as jewlery at all. the bracelet on your wrist was a new look, despite the way it hung loosely due to the difference in the size of you and ais.

ais stared with curiousity, his head cocked slightly as he watched you giggle at the sight of the bracelet dangling loosely on your wrist.

“ah, it’s too big for me. here.” he barely noticed you dangling his bracelet in front of his face, and he slowly took it and placed it back on his wrist. he stared at your neck, then your arm, then your ring, making tiny notes in the back of his head.

and before you knew it, a double in your size of each and every piece of jewlery he had was in a small, pretty box that rested in your hands. he looked down at you, his grin toothy. there was a copy of his necklaces, his bracelet, his rings. all of it, just for you.

“you know, i was thinkin’ of how you looked with my bracelet on. you looked so cute, thought you’d look cute with it all, sparrow.” he grinned.

and before you could even begin to thank him, or say anything at all, his hands are reaching for the box, setting it aside. the two of you sit together in a comfortable silence as he grabs your fingers gently, slipping each ring on a certain finger so that you’ll be completely matching with him. it’s an odd sight— but its not necessarily new. ais was always gentle when it came to you. (well, as long as you wanted him to be..)

and then he slips the bracelet over your wrist- careful, yet big and rough hands against your arm. he seemed rather focused.

and then he leaned closer near your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he clipped the necklaces around your neck. he leaned back, looking satisfied as he grinned.

“oh…” he hummed lowly, head turning to the side slightly as he looked at you, taking you all in. “hm… you almost wear them better than me, sparrow.” he teases, laughing slightly.

and from then on out, don’t be surprised when he randomly comes up to you with a new box full of jewlery, and makes you sit with him as he puts them on from you.

and hey! maybe he’ll even offer to do some piercings for you. he thinks you’d look stunning with some, and he’d be more than happy to do them himself.

VERE — CLOTHES

vere was obsessed with himself- everyone knew that! he was cocky, flirtatious, and more. he kept himself well groomed, had beautiful fashion, and had a face that was very, very hard to resist.

but when you came into his life, he had something new and beautiful to obsess over.

you were well kept (in his eyes, at least) and your face had him practically in a trance, sometimes fumbling with his teasing phrases when he would attempt to speak with you.

and he’d admire you deeply, his eyes tracing every- and i mean every single feature of you. and with that, he’d be able to imagine you just perfectly wearing clothes that he thought you would look just like a model in.

“(name),” he purred, approaching you with a sly smile, “i got something for you. please, go and put it on for me.” a bag is quickly placed in your hands, and he quickly directs you to a private area in which you can change.

and when you open the bag, your eyes are wide open, your jaw dropping. it is a gorgeous, expensive looking red dress/suit. (imagine any red dress/suit that looks cute to you!! ^^) and when you put it on, it happens to fit you quite perfectly, leaving you to question how vere knew which exact size to get.

your hands are folded and placed in front of you in a shy manner as you walk out, approaching vere. before you can even ask anything- for example, the price- he’s talking.

“oh, (name)… you look so…” he’s in a dream-like stare as his hand rests on his cheek, staring at you very intently with a grin. “why don’t you do a little spin for me, please? i want to see how it fits all of you.”

you sheepishly oblige, spinning in your new outfit that hugs you so perfectly. vere watches intently, taking the sight in with a sigh.

the sigh makes you perk up worriedly. did he think it looked bad on you? did he-

“(name),” he brings you out of your worried state, his voice like honey in your ears. “god, i could just eat you whole, you know? this looks so good on you, you don’t even know.” he grins as he makes his way to you, his hands finding his way to your hips.

and when he’s closer, you notice the color of your outfit and his hair is about the same exact thing. of course he would make it the same… his own little way of showing you off as his.

in little time, your wardrobe is piled full with clothes, and you probably bought maybe a tenth of them at most. some of the clothes are- well, were vere’s clothes that he had deemed looked better on you.

KURAS — CARE

“kuras—! it’s barely a cold, i have the smallest fever!”

he simply hums in reply, acknowledging yet completely ignoring your protests at the same time. his back is turned to you as he prepares a medicinal tea.

“kuras.” you huff, and he barely turns his head over his shoulder to face you, and you now see that he wears that awful teasing grin of his. “you know you have patients lined up outside that need your help more than i do!”

“and they can wait patiently. i have more important matters to take care of, such as nursing you back to health, dear.” he’s sweet and gentle when he talks, despite his teasing expression.

“it’s just barely a cold…” you grumble as he places the medicinal tea in your hands.

“sure, but we don’t want it to get any worse, do we now? i want you to return to well health soon. i hate seeing you ill.” he hums, hands that are surprisingly soft reaching to hold the side of your face, thumb brushing over your features.

you can protest no longer, practically melting into his touch with a deep sigh.

with kuras there, expect to never need to care for yourself, yourself!

despite his busy job, he always seems to magically make time for you. he’ll nurse you back to health if you’re sick, he will comfort you if you’re not feeling your best, he’ll cook for you… well, he’ll TRY to cook for you. and if (when) that doesn’t work, he’ll always find some delicious food at a vendor to pick up for you.

“kuras, i know you’re busy. you should probably head on to work..”

“my love. you didn’t seem like yourself today, i’d like to be with you for the day. i cannot stand seeing you feel even the slightest bit bad, you know?”

before you can protest, he continues: “i’ll stay with you because i love you and care for you dearly, (name). i’m sure the patients can wait.”

his hand finds yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. you sigh, inevitably giving in to him.

sometimes, if he were to be with you at your home, he would randomly begin to tidy up for you. he doesn’t mind it— if its for you, he would never mind it. hell, he’d do about anything as long as it would make you happy.

and in the quiet moments together when you can sit peacefully, just holding each other, it’s important for him to make sure you understand just how much he cares for you.

“id do anything for you, my dear, if you had asked. i love you.”

MHIN — PROTECTING YOU

“mhin! come on, have a drink, why don’t you?” leander grinned largely at mhin, but they were completely distracted.

their eyes had followed you as you bid your farewell and exited the wet wick, pushing out the door, seeming careless as ever. it made them tense, and they barely registered leander’s words as they stood up from their chair.

“…no. i have things to do.”

leander sighed, smiling as he shook his head. “you know… if you never let (name) outta your sight, and always protect them, how are they gonna learn to protect themself when you arent there to protect them?” he asked, cocking his head as he watch mhin.

mhin had become tense at the question, staring at leander with a glare as they scoffed. they had a lot to stay, but the only thing they were able to muster up was a “what i do doesnt concern you.” as they quickly walked out of the wet wick and went to follow you.

now, it could go two ways. mhin could straight up catch up to you, often claiming that they simply had business with you or that you guys had happened to cross paths.

that, or mhin would watch you quietly, leaving you undisturbed from their prescence (even if that would never be a disturbance for you), and from anything that would cause you any sort of harm.

if mhin let danger even come a foot within you, they would never forgive themself, even if you survived such a danger. if something like a soulless ever even touched you, they would truly never recover.

leander’s words play in their head sometimes- that if they keep protecting you like this that you will never learn to protect yourself when they aren’t there.

mhin grumbles at the thought, rolling their eyes. it’s a simple concept to them: they’ll never let you out of their sight, and they’ll never let harm come your way.

anything that dared to touch you would surely regret it.

so when a soulless jumped at you, snarling and hungry for blood, mhin was on top of it in a mere second. you were almost just barely cut by the creature, and you stumbled back, falling on your rear.

mhin could barely control their movements. after they finished off the soulless, they rushed to you, pulling you up to your feet.

before you could even muster up a “thank you” they wrapped their arms around you— one around your back, one around the back of your head.

they realized their actions just a second too late, but when they felt your shaking, fearful hands wrap around them, their grip only grew tighter.

“it’s… it’s okay, (name). i’m here. i always am. don’t be scared.”

LEANDER — MONEY

“it’s on me!”

“leander, i got it—“

“no, ma’am. i insist.”

and he’d shoot you that same shit-eating yet charming grin that made you sigh, silencing your protests. if you wanted to buy anything at all and leander was within a distance, forget about even thinking about your wallet. this man will let you buy nothing with your own money.

matter of fact, if you show the slightest interest in something, you’ll suddenly find it fully paid for and in your hands.

the amount of things you have that aren’t even bought with your own money is starting to get concerning.

when you’re sitting at the counter of his bar and you ask to start a tab for yourself, he just smiles at you, laughing in such a way that brings a heat up to your face.

“oh, sweetheart… why you even ask for a tab still is beyond me.” he would smile as he slides your drink across the table. the pet name he uses throws you off just enough to have you not deny him paying for your drink.

“leander,” you start with a sigh, “you cant just buy me everything i want, y’know..”

he cocks his head in seemingly honest confusion before he grins. “oh? but i can, (name). money isn’t something i want you to be worrying about. or spending on anything.. as long as im around, that is.”

when he sees that you have something new that he didn’t buy, he’ll even get pouty. he loves to see you with things that he bought that are now all yours.

“(name)… how’d you get this?”

“i bought it myself.”

he’d groan like a child, resting his chin on your shoulder as he talked, arms wrapped around the front of you. “(name), please. my money and i are right here always, you don’t need to be spending so much money.”

“but, it was onl-“

he shushed you, shaking his head. “i dont care if it was one cent or a thousand dollars, sweetheart. why don’t i just give you a little weekly allowance of spending money, hm? it’ll make me happy.” he smiles innocently, yet you raise an eyebrow.

“leander, i’m not your sugar baby.”

“you’re not?” the childish, teasing fake sadness in his eyes make you laugh, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not. i’m your girlfriend.”

“oh…” he trails off, grinning. “girlfriend, sugar baby… same thing, you know..?” his voice is teasing and so is his grin, yet he still looks so damn handsome.

this man will never not be spending money on you.

[kurasthetic]

21:26 - Kuras, Leander, Ais, Mhin, Vere

has; main five characters || reader in leander’s is called “pretty” || reader has long-ish hair in mhin’s, implied to be taller by an indeterminate amount || Leander jumpscare in Vere's, mention of something potentially (but not actually) being slipped in a drink, reader is shorter than Vere ||

REACHING OUT TO YOU;; the smallest moments can mean the most when they're giving what you’ve been robbed of your whole life (or, prompt roulette from this list)

Kuras

[ HOLD ]: while close to the receiver, the sender wordlessly takes a hold of their hand, for no other purpose than to be holding it.

The Amaryllis district was always packed at night. There was nary a noiseless corner to be found in between dusk and dawn, a constant din of drunken chatter and laughter rumbling beneath every thought one could have. If you didn't have to live here, you'd avoid these streets as if they were infested with the plague. You weren’t the only one with apparent distaste for these streets; in front of you, Kuras picked his way deftly through the crowd. Even though he seemed to repel everything around him, people swerving clear of his personal space before knocking shoulder directly with you, there was a certain distaste hidden in his sluggish steps. You almost worried that every loose pebble risked sullying his pristine white coat, despite the fact that you’d seen it emerge from dirtier alleys unstained.

Unable to dodge the constant jostling of drunken bodies, you took to hiding your hands in your cloak. The heavy wool, normally a welcome and needed barrier against the cold night, was uncomfortably warm while you were caged in by sweltering body heat on all sides. Your shoulders were beginning to cramp from holding your hands so closely to your chest. No matter how tightly you wrapped your bandages or pulled barriers across your hands, there was an undying terror settling deep in your stomach at the slightest hint you might touch someone.

Huffing, you tried to shake away the negative thoughts. When you looked up again, you came to a sudden halt, nearly colliding with Kuras’ back. The slight shower of pebbles you kicked up all bounced and scattered around Kuras’ feet, missing him by sizable inches. You watched as he pulled something from an inner pocket of his outfit, a flash of white over his shoulder all you could see before he brought it in front of him and blocked your view. This close to Kuras, the people who parted to make a path for him also figured you into the equation, giving your battered arm a rest.

You were busy marveling at this when Kuras held his hand in front of you. Though you could feel his eyes on you, you didn’t look up to try and decipher what was going on in his mind. Instead, you stared at his hand, now in a thin white glove. Slowly, in disbelief, you patted yourself as if pockets would appear and produce what he was gesturing for.

Kuras laughed, though it came out in a single breath. He turned to face you and slowly reached for your cloak, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. When you didn’t protest, he reached for one of your hands and closed his gloved fingers around it with a smile.

You tried to pull away, but Kuras didn’t let you go. His grip tightened just enough to keep you in place and loosened the moment you stopped resisting. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, panic seizing your brain as your eyes kept darting from your hand in Kuras’, up to his golden gaze, and back down again. Kuras wore that endearing, teasing smile of his, watching you process with rapt attention. There wasn’t any time for you to be embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze while you were busy searching for even the slightest hint of madness.

When you were sufficiently calmed down, Kuras began leading you down the street again, offering no explanation. You kept your eyes on your hands joined together, the off-white of your bandages looking dirty and disheveled against the fabric of his gloves. Absently, you tried to remember him ever wearing them before. When did he get them? Why would he spring for fabric gloves in his line of work, especially ones that felt so thin and cheaply made?

…Did he buy them specifically to assuage your fear?

Unable to sit with those implications, you lifted your head and tried to gain your bearings, only to realize that Kuras was leading you down the wrong road. “Um…isn’t the Wet Wick that way?” You asked, pointing feebly in the direction you were referencing. 

Kuras looked down at you and smiled. “You’ve been studying with me all day and we didn’t take a break for food. Surely you must be hungry.”

“Oh, uh…” You felt for your coin purse, which was even lighter than when you first arrived in the city. Most of the places around the tavern knew to count you under Leander’s tab, but it still felt wrong to ask for more or offer his money to somebody else in the form of a meal. “I’m…good…”

But your traitorous stomach answered more truthfully, and Kuras’ smile sharpened knowingly. “My treat, of course. Will you join me?”

Once again, you looked at your hand and experimentally wiggled your fingers. Your bandages didn’t budge, and Kuras gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. Your previously panicked heart lurched again - this time for entirely different reasons.

“Lead the way,” you finally agreed, struggling to breathe past the erratic beating in your chest. 

You spent the rest of your night hand-in-hand with Kuras, only reluctantly parting when the tavern lights illuminated the pavement in front of you and the toes of your shoes.

Leander

[ SCAR ]: noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it.

There was a lot you didn’t know about Leander. It wasn’t that he kept to himself, just that he often focused the conversation on you. In a city reigned by secrecy and information, it was no wonder how Leander became the leader of the pack; if not for his friendly, easygoing approach to people, his knack for getting people to let down their guard and open up to him would surely have cemented his place at the top. 

You should’ve been wary of how his earnestness was so thin you could see straight through to the silent threat beneath. Those that hid in the shadow needed the element of surprise to succeed, but a beast who bared his fangs could all too willingly tear you to shreds. Of this, you were painfully aware. But you had also spent your entire life shying away from others, hiding in the shadows yourself, never revealing a thing because it always resulted in fear and scorn. Wanting to be known by someone had gone to your head, dizzying and addicting once you finally got that hit.

Perhaps that was why you found yourself in this position so frequently: your lips hot on Leander's, your knees on either side of his hips as you straddled him, one hand beneath his shirt and pressing his abdomen to the bed as if to keep him in place. You could feel his legs shifting behind you, excess energy spent in an effort not to appear too eager. Still, that didn't stop him from leaning into your palm the moment you reached your free hand to cup his face. Your bandages hadn't even come off yet, but to be able to touch someone like this - no fear of the bandages shifting, no looming threat of insanity - was a luxury you needed to grab before it was taken away.

For a brief moment, you pulled away, watching with something akin to pride at Leander's red face, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. He half-opened one eye and whined once, short and sweet. You must look smug.

Before you could kean back down, Leander removed one of his hands from your waist, placing it above the one you used to cradle his face. Tenderly, he reluctantly moved your hand and began unraveling your bandages. The sick feeling twisted in your stomach again, years of torment conditioning you to lurch away. You might've, if it wasn't for the chaste, reassuring kisses Leander placed on every unwrapped knuckle as they came into view.

Shivering, you let him unwrap the layers on your other hand, too, careful not to let your now-exposed hand touch him. There was comfort in the certainty he tried to give you, but you couldn't let your walls fall down completely. The least you had to do was make sure he knew when you would be touching him. For absolute safety.

Noticing your reticence, Leander grinned at you and went to kiss your palm. He stopped, however, brow furrowing. A pit suddenly ripped open in your stomach, terror and regret and bile threatening to come out of your throat.

"What is this?" He asked, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Not cursed. Hesitantly, you pulled your hand away and inspected it with a scrutinizing squint. Although it took a moment, you finally saw what he was talking about: a faint scar, lighter than the rest of your skin, running from the base of your middle finger to the center of your palm. 

"I…don't know," you answered honestly. It could've been anything: when you tripped over an unruly pile of junk and caught yourself on the rough cobblestone, when you were inspecting a wildflower and were surprised by its thorns, or maybe you caught your skin on the unfinished headboard of your bed while you were asleep. You didn't remember having to replace torn bandages, but you were beginning to obsessively wrap them multiple times a day, now that you were in close contact with so many people.

Not liking your answer, Leander grabbed your hand and inspected it again. The tug was rough, much more forceful than he needed to be, and you winced in shock rather than pain. 

After he glared at your hand for a few more seconds, he finally softened. "Ah, forgive me for my intensity. A pretty thing like you shouldn't be brought to harm by anything."

"It's really not that bad," you tried to argue, but already you could feel the heady fog of desire clouding your brain.

"You don't have to protect anybody, you know?" He finally placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your palm like he originally planned, right in the center of the scar. "Let someone take care of you. Let me take care of you."

Ais

[ GUIDE ]: in the process of guiding the receiver through a crowded place, the sender’s hand protectively grazes against the small of their back

Taverns were hardly a place of discomfort for you, especially considering how you now lived in one. Even if they were loud and too crowded for your liking, you didn't despise them. What you did hate was being thrown into intimidating uncharted waters in the middle of an already taxing night.

The tavern before you wasn't anything like the open and well-lit Wet Wick. The solid wood door just looked heavy, fitting so snugly in its frame that next to no light filtered out through the bottom. All the windows were tinted - or so dirty that no light could get through - and the walls were accented in red splotches that could have been blood just as easily as they could've been paint. The sign hung by one side of its chain attachments, the words so weathered and faded they were illegible. If not for the occasional noise from inside that was more roar than laugh, you would've assumed the building had been abandoned for years.

"What is this place?" You asked uncertainly.

"Tavern," Ais answered, grinning. When you gave him a withering look, he added, "Go to the Wet Wick when you want a drink. Go here when you want to get drunk."

Without answering your question, Ais stepped up and opened the door for you. You muttered something spiteful about how gentlemanly he was, pulled up the hood of your cloak, and stepped into the tavern.

Your eyes took a while to adjust to the low light. You could hear Ais step in behind you and the door slamming shut, shutting you in like the mouth of a cave after a collapse. Vague shadows, big and hulking and some inhuman, turned their attention towards you, some of the raucous merrymaking dying down to a curious din. In the narrow entryway, Ais only had enough room to stand directly behind you, his warmth permeating to your back even through your heavy cloak. While you darted your eyes around warily, Ais laughed, deep and right next to your ear.

"The hood makes you even more suspicious, sparrow," he advised. When you immediately tensed, he laughed again and pulled your hood down for you. "Look around. They're not going to hurt you."

"What?" you hissed through your teeth. "How can you be so sure?"

Ais only responded with a sweeping gesture. Hesitantly, you followed the movement with your eyes and surveyed the room again. Most of the patrons had lost interest in your arrival, their eyes no longer on you. Still, nearly every pair you came across were bright red, almost glowing and exactly like Ais'. The few monsters in the tavern were less imposing than you thought: most were largely human like Ais and only had stray tails or extra eyes to mark their otherness. Out of the rest of the patrons, though, some had gaping injuries, clear displays of what had been so dreadful they found it worth trading their sanity for peace. 

"She's over there," Ais suddenly said, pointing to a booth in the corner. In your excitement, you had almost forgotten that you were here to follow a lead on a curse similar to yours. Still, you found yourself glued to your spot. Even if you weren't in danger, you could tell you weren't welcome, either.

Something warm pressed firmly against your lower back, prodding you forward. You gasped, twisting around to see Ais staring back at you flatly and his hand on your back. He guided you forward, expertly maneuvering you so that you avoided colliding with the aimlessly swaying bodies around you. You allowed him to push you forward, focusing your attention instead on suppressing the tingling-warm fluster climbing up your face.

Out of nowhere, a buff monster collided with you. You stumbled to the side, sucking in a breath through your teeth. They had stepped on your foot, much denser than the average human. Ais straightened you out carefully, glaring at the monster until they mumbled a meaningless apology and stalled away.

"You good?" He asked quietly, hands on your shoulders and breath tickling your ear. You nodded.

"I can take a little shove."

"Good, 'cause these folks would eat you alive if you couldn't." Then he resumed pushing you forward, careful not to let a single soul touch you or your clothes.

Mhin

[ HAIR ]: sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)

“Do you just walk around with your brain entirely shut off?”

Mhin was practically dragging you along the darkened streets of Lowtown, their grip firm on your upper arm. Trying to wrench your arm free, you wound up staggering behind them, tripping clumsily over the noisy and thick soles of your shoes.

“I’m sorry,” you responded, more exasperated than remorseful. In the dark, while preoccupied with Mhin's aggressive attitude, you couldn't pay much attention to the ground beneath your feet. The uneven cobblestone had yet to become familiar, the bottoms of your shoes catching on a raised stone or slipping on loose pebbles. 

Mhin veered to the side suddenly and wordlessly, leading to you tripping over a large pile of trash. You yelped, flailing out your arms with enough strength that they finally released you. Huffing all the while, you patted yourself down, brushing stray dirt off of your clothes and hoping nothing untoward had cakes itself on your boot.

"If you don't shut up, another soulless will come for you and I won't waste my energy doing anything about it," Their silhouette shifted in the dark as they crossed their arms. You suppressed a growl deep in your chest.

"Then why don't you just let it?" You asked, voice thin and serrated.

"Well- I wasn't helping you! I was just doing work. If anything, you were in my way."

Mhin didn't speak much, but sometimes, they had lots to say when they were chewing you out. You gritted your teeth, already worn out from this charade. "You don't wanna help me? Fine. I can find my way back without you. Go collect your pay or whatever and leave me alone."

A beat passed before Mhin spat back at you. "Fine."

They practically stomped away, footsteps much heavier and a bit slower than usual. Normally they could slip out of eyesight without you even noticing, but now they were lingering. Part of you wanted to stay angry with them, but another part was uninterested in potentially burning bridges over something inconsequential. With a curse beneath your breath, you followed after them.

"Mhin," you called, but they didn't turn around. They might've tensed, but it was difficult to see in the dark. You tried again. "Mhin!"

Still nothing. Sighing, you sped up your pursuit, nearly catching up to them beneath the light of one of the street lanterns. The lights were far too spread out to be of any use against monsters, but finding yourself in the focus of the yellow warmth was comforting enough for you to raise your voice again. "Hey, could you listen to me when I'm talking to you?"

"You-" Mhin whirled around, their temper so hot that, for a moment, the red in their eyes seemed to glow. Instinctively you flinched back, tugging your cloak around your shoulders as if it was a coat of armor. Their snarl melted away, leaving them to stare blankly at you for a moment. You wondered what was going through their mind when you couldn’t see a smart remark ready to tumble off their tongue. 

With their stone eyes on you, a warmth started climbing up your entire body and settling at your cheeks. Their gaze wavered slightly, no longer piercing and sharp. Instead, they watched as you shrunk back into your cloak like it could save you. Heaving a harsh, heavy sigh, they closed the distance between you, fully intending on shaking you by the shoulders. Their body had a mind of its own, though, and they found themselves reaching a hand up to carefully stroke your hairline, drawing a tender line from temple to chin. You gulped; their eyes narrowed. “Are you afraid of me?”

You laughed humorlessly. “I am not.”

Roughly, they grabbed your chin and forced you to bend so you’d be closer to eye level. They wanted to bite back, say something about your attitude around someone who killed a soulless that almost killed you, but it finally registered how warm your skin was beneath theirs. This wasn’t that usual warmth that made them shiver with a thrill - it was much more intense. It wasn’t until their own face began to heat up that they realized exactly what they were feeling.

Sputtering for a moment, they let go of your face and jumped backwards in the way of a startled cat. Mhin huffed as they straightened out non-existant wrinkles in their clothing, finishing by pulling their hood over their head. “You are far too reckless for your own good.”

Without waiting for you to gather your wits, they turned on their heel and hurriedly stalked away. Once in the shadows, they spared a final, passing glance at your frozen form, needing to fight the urge to reach out for you once more.

Vere

[ CLOSE ]: while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

You sometimes wondered what Vere was doing, hanging around the Wet Wick after spending cumulative hours complaining about the drinks, the ambience, the crowd, the presence of Leander… 

Usually, you could see him sitting beside Ais, able to use that singular presence as excuse enough to stay. But tonight he was alone when you walked into the crowded tavern, swirling a glass with a bored expression on his face. You weren’t exactly looking to spend the night with him, but before you even had time to decide if you’d spare a polite greeting or try to duck up to your room, one of Vere’s ears twitched and he easily turned his head your way. His expression barely changed - Vere didn't do the chasing unless he was looking to kill - until you started to make your way towards him. Then he grinned, fangs sharp and on display. 

Wordlessly, you followed his invitation, stopping just short of the stool beside him. Perched upon his own seat, Vere could look down his nose at you, tail swishing lazily behind him and nearly knocking a glass off the bar. The smug pull of his lips and draw of his brows made your own stomach twist with something warm and heavy.

"Come on, make yourself comfortable," Vere patted the empty stool lightly, as if you couldn't tell exactly what his invitation was. You shook your head.

"What do you want, Vere?" There was none of the intended malice or fatigue in your voice, and Vere seemed undeterred by your frosty demeanor. Instead, he twisted his arm behind himself and presented a glass of red wine, held between your bodies like a peace offering. 

"Don't tell me you're making me drink by myself. That's a little pathetic, don't you think?" 

"Are you telling me you were sitting here looking pathetic before I came along?" Tentatively, you took the glass and eyed it suspiciously. In the corners of your vision, you spotted bright green eyes glowering in your direction. Leander was staring at Vere and the drink in your hand as if it had personally offended him. When he realized you were watching him, he instantly brightened up and nodded, as if to say 'that one's okay.' Content that Vere hadn't slipped you anything, you sighed and took a sip.

Vere's gaze slid cooly in the direction you were staring, his smile crumbling into a grimace when he saw who was watching you. When Vere was happy, his fangs looked enticing, but seeing them when he was angry only reminded you that they were made to rip out throats, not just nibble. He jumped down from his stool then, guiding you to the opposite end of the room to put as many bodies between you and Leander as possible.

"Waiting for a friend and getting wasted on your own are two entirely different things," Vere muttered in your ear. His hand tightened on the fabric of your cloak, sharp fingernails like claws ghosting over your back. You couldn't quite tell what his intentions were with you; it seemed that he was bored, and you were merely his favorite plaything.

Trying to get a read on him, you studied Vere from the corner of your eye. His ears were relaxed, his eyes bright and alert, his tail languidly flicking side to side. Your eyes followed the line of his neck, the curl of his hair, down his slim torso and to his long stretch of leg. Your eyes stopped for a moment on that swath of exposed thigh, noticing the way all of his straps and garters pressed gently into his skin. Slowly, your eyes fell all the way to the ground and back up, lingering at his lips, his fangs, that damned grin. Somehow, your cursory glance turned into an ogling session.

When your eyes finally settled on his again, it was clear that Vere realized way before you.

Rather than pull away like your instincts screamed to do, you narrowed your eyes and held his gaze. Pleased, you briefly saw the corners of his lips quirk as he laughed. Two slender fingers trailed your jawline before the pads of them pressed into your chin, forcing your head to tilt back just a bit. He leaned in teasingly, tauntingly, testing the waters to see just how far you'd let him go. This wasn't what you wanted - was it? - but you refused to let your eyes leave his face for even a second, even though you should have known better.

After all, if you play a game of chicken against a fox, you're sure to be devoured.

[eggroll-sama]

Who’s My Roommate?

The Touchstarved cast are at a hotel and can’t decide who will be their roommates. Some are against certain pairings. You don’t really care, but they seem they’ve got a few colorful opinions || Touchstarved LI x reader. All of them have a crush on you, but you’re oblivious. I had this in my drafts for a while but I finally got the motivation to finish it. Just light-hearted shenanigans. Sorry if there are any typos!

__________________________________________

“I don’t want Leander,” said Vere, his arms crossed and glaring at the man across from him.

They didn’t think deciding on rooming buddies would be so hard. There were exactly three rooms, side by side, and anyone who knew basic math understood there would be two people per room. The problem was, who and who?

Vere and Ais were the first pairing that came to mind. But then Mhin complained that they didn’t want to hear them having sex at two in the morning. You and Kuras could sympathize so argued that, no, Vere and Ais cannot be together in the same room. Vere was angry, Ais was indifferent. He preferred Vere’s company over others, but as long as he didn’t get Mhin he was fine. He found the idea of Mhin aiming a knife to his neck fun, but in the end he didn’t want to deal with them pestering him like a fly.

And then there was Leander. If they went off the reason of not wanting to hear someone having sex, then Leander was tough. He had had sex with half of the members in the group: Ais, Mhin, and (maybe) Vere. You still didn’t really know if they did it or not.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same room as Leander,” you said. Everyone stiffened except for the man in question, who had a cocky smile on his face. Secretly, everyone wanted to room with you, but they didn’t want to admit it.

Kuras stepped in before Leander could make a comment, and steered the conversation to possibly drawing sticks so it would be fair for everyone and well, not everyone was happy with their partners. Vere got Leander, Mhin got Ais, and you got Kuras. You weren’t against Kuras being your roommate; he was a gentleman and minded his own business. He didn’t seem like he was against rooming with you either. The others were not so happy with their results.

“I’m not rooming with a monster,” Mhin spat, venom lacing their words, glaring holes in the back of Ais’ head.

Ais ignored them, while Vere rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, well nobody wants to deal with an annoying midget like you. I think you forgot to pack your booster seat.”

Vere snickered as Mhin’s face turned red from anger.

“Hey hey now hold on, MC said that they were fine with rooming with me, so why not just leave the two of us out of it?” Leander said, arms snaking around your shoulder.

“No, you soft penis numbskull. You’re not rooming with MC.” Mhin stepped in. When the others looked at Mhin curiously, they coughed nervously and looked away.

You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Ais and Leander are best friends. We should room them together.”

The corner of Leander’s smile frayed at your joke. Ais narrowed his eyes at you. At least Vere was laughing, probably at you for your failed attempt to lighten the mood, but at least he laughed. You drew into yourself. You’ve forgotten the others were getting quite annoyed by the arguing. This was serious business that might mean life or death.

“How about we draw sticks again?” You suggested meekly, trying to move past the awkwardness.

“No, it’s just a waste of time,” intervened Vere, “we all clearly have our preferences, so how about we list anyone we don’t want to room with? I go first. I hate all four of you, fortunately, so I’m going to room with Ais or no one.”

“I don’t have a preference,” said Leander with a blush.

“We know,” Vere rolled his eyes.

“At this point let’s just room the two people that are the doormats of this group, Leander and Vere. It’s the easiest way to deal with them,” said Mhin.

“Or how about we room Leander in one room and Vere in the other one, and then we all share the last one,” you suggest. At this point you were running out of ideas and throwing them out randomly hoping you would hit a jackpot.

“I’m not invited to the foursome? That is unfortunate to hear,” Vere said.

“It’s getting too complicated. Room Vere with MC, Mhin with Leander, and me and Kuras. That should be good,” suggested Ais, getting impatient.

“I’m afraid that would be endangering MC’s safety,” said Kuras coolly, ignoring Vere’s exasperated reaction.

He quickly switched to his flirty demeanor, a coy smile on his lips, “Oh, but I don’t bite. Unless they ask me.” Mhin scoffed in the background. Kuras was expressionless. If he reacted to Vere’s tasteless innuendos, he would give the fox exactly what he wanted. So he stayed quiet and didn’t let his face give anything away.

“I agree with Kuras on this one. A bloody, mangled corpse is the last thing we want to deal with,” said Mhin. Though Mhin said this, you knew that they cared about your safety.

Ais sighed in defeat, pulling out a cigarette and a match, “I’m going out for a smoke.” You couldn’t blame him, they’ve been arguing for the past thirty minutes. Ais walked off to the entrance of the hotel.

Seeing Ais walk off, Vere waved their fingers before sauntering off in the same direction.

“The dog went to take a walk with it’s owner. Good grief,” said Mhin.

“We still need to get this rooming situation settled. I’m sure the others won’t mind if we decided without them,” said Kuras.

He sighed, “From what I’ve observed, the best rooming pairs seems like the fox and Ais, Mhin and MC, and Leander and I. We’ll take the middle room, Mhin and MC take the left, and Vere and Ais the right. That way Mhin wouldn’t be disturbed from any unnecessary sounds at night.”

“I could live with that,” said Mhin.

Leander didn’t seem too pleased with the end-result, but he wasn’t going to complain, “Alright. Guess I get to room with the good doctor tonight. Hey, maybe we can finally get some dinner, you and I.”

“Perhaps,” said Kuras, but from his indifferent expression and hollow tone it sounded more like a no.

“Ah,” was all Leander said. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket, “I brought cards with me. Anyone wanna play Poker in an hour or two, our room?”

You smiled, “I like Poker. Bet I could beat you,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly.

“Sure.” Leander said with a laugh, but the way he said it almost sounded…condescending? You raised your brows, but before you could fully process it, Leander had already started speaking, “Would the doctor like to join as well?”

Must’ve been my imagination.

“I suppose if you are going to play in our room, I could join for a game or two.”

Kuras reply seemed to brighten Leander’s mood from the thinly-veiled rejection for dinner a few seconds ago.

“Great! How about you Mhin!”

“I’m tired.” Mhin grabbed their bags and started heading for the elevator, ignoring Leander’s invitation. You saw Leander’s smile falter.

“I’ll try convincing them,” you whispered to Leander who gave you an appreciative smile.

You had the keys to the room, so after saying goodbye to the other two, quickly followed after your small companion.

“I’m glad I get to room with you, Mhin,” you said while waiting for the elevator with them.

Mhin huffed at your words, turning away, “Right.” In the corner of your eyes you could see their pale skin get pinker just a tad. You smiled to yourself at their reaction. You weren’t really sure what the rest of the day will entail, but at least you were able to get through the hurdle of deciding who will be your roommate.

[theogonies]

what they look for in a partner ft. the cast of touchstarved

characters: ais, mhin, vere, kuras, & leander

word count: 2k

content warnings: some suggestive elements but nothing explicit, mentions of corruption kinks (ais), brat taming (kuras), and light exhibitionism (vere and leander), leander is a little emotionally manipulative

AIS.

Considering his relationships with MC and Vere, it's not exactly a secret that Ais has a thing for brats. He loves teasing, and wants a partner who can keep up with him, giving as much as they get. He's all about the thrill of the chase, learning exactly which buttons to press to get you flustered--so don't make it too easy on him.

Surprisingly, he's not usually the one to make the first move. He'll flirt, but struggles to take initiative when things start to feel too real for his comfort.

He finds people who can find a cool head in moments of crisis insanely attractive. Whether it's pulling him back when he's about to pick a stupid fight or constructing a perfect alibi on the spot when you find yourself in trouble, the contrast between your self-control and his impulsivity always gets him itching to push your limits even further.

Humans and Monsters alike, he's grown accustomed to the absolute devotion of his followers. So being around someone who isn't constantly bowing and scraping to him is a refreshing change of pace.

He still greatly values loyalty, and it's something that he's more than willing to return--he's a ride or die type of guy. What he's not interested in is empty flattery; telling it like it is is, in his eyes, a much more valuable kind of devotion than total obedience.

I definitely think he's got a bit of a corruption kink, and is drawn to people with a more innocent, even naive personality--easier to get them flustered that way. More importantly, though, he enjoys the interplay between his impulsivity and his partner's willingness to stick by their personal code of ethics, no matter how impractical. For all the teasing he does, he has a very deep and genuine admiration for people with strong moral principles and sense of self.

The only thing he loves more than drawing out your hedonistic side is knowing that he's the only one who can do it. It's a very specific, psychological kind of possessiveness, knowing that you want him enough to show him the greedy, impure side of yourself that you hide so carefully from the rest of the world.

On the other hand, narcs are a major turn off. It's one thing to tell him off for fucking up, and another entirely to get others involved. He fantasizes about a Bonnie and Clyde, us against the world type of love.

MHIN.

Another one who isn't particularly subtle about what it takes to get them heated. Mhin loves it when you can keep up with their acerbic personality. Even more than sharp tongues, they're drawn to people who are physically assertive enough to follow through on their threats.

Mhin is all bark and no bite, a fact that they're very much aware of. Deep down, they desperately want to feel safe and protected. It's not exactly that they're insecure; they don't have any hang ups about their own strength. But it's exhausting to keep their guard up all the time. So, they figure that their perfect match is their perfect equal--and 90% of their bluster is just that, a test so see who's willing to break past their emotional barriers and strong enough to keep up with them.

They're a switch, and definitely have a thing for size difference. One of their biggest fantasies is dominating a partner who's bigger than themself.

One of Mhin's most immediate turn-offs is people who look too clean and polished all the time. They're enamored by scarring and callouses--basically, the physical traces of a person's life, especially those associated with hard work. They're not particularly interested in fashion or flashy clothes, either; rather than being with someone who's always up on the latest styles, they admire those who know how to make things last, and who would rather underdress than overdress.

It's not hard to get them flustered. Put them in a good ol' fashioned kabedon, whisper simple praises in their ear, and they'll absolutely melt (not that they would ever admit that to you, of course). Mhin's affection is very subtle, blink and you'll miss it (they're big on acts of service, and usually quite sneaky about it), but they like partners who are more forward than themself, whether verbally or physically.

While they are a loving partner (once you break past those oh-so-strong emotional walls), Mhin isn't a super relationship-oriented person. They have goals of their own outside of romance, and would prefer to be with someone who feels the same way, supporting each other in the pursuit of their own, independent dreams.

VERE.

It's not exactly that Vere is a commitment-phobe. When he falls for someone, he falls fast and hard, and he's never been one to be secretive about his feelings. But he views relationships of all kinds--platonic, romantic, sexual, even antagonistic--with a kind of levity that can be offputting to many. Love, to him, is a game, and he has zero interest in dropping out of the race the moment he takes the lead, so to speak.

Even in a committed, monogamous relationship, Vere is a flirt and a bit of a player--with his partner and outsiders alike. In his eyes, it's not a sign of disloyalty, but rather, a way of keeping the spark alive. Possessiveness is an immediate dealbreaker for him (although he's not opposed to a good ol' jealousy fueled romp in the sheets--that's half the fun of teasing).

Vere tends to bottom more often than he tops, but he's attracted to switches far more than he is fully dominant types. He likes having dynamic interplay in a relationship, especially sexual, and wants to be with someone that isn't content with always falling back into the same old routines.

Physical attraction is very important to Vere, although he doesn't necessarily require that his partner is conventionally attractive. He's especially drawn to unique senses of style and physical traits--a particularly intense look in a person's eyes, a scar or blemish that gives their face an interesting character, even an interesting tilt to the way they hold themself. The only thing he loves more than standing out in a crowd on his own is hanging off the arm of someone who does the same, intentionally or not.

He likes to imagine himself and his partner as a power couple--the two most powerful personas in the room, the ones that everyone else wants to either fuck or become.

While he is very attracted to confidence, there's a bit of a feedback loop here, because he's also extremely good at psyching up his partner's self-image--stick with Vere long enough, and it's hard not to see yourself as someone powerful and desirable.

Massive tit guy. 'nuff said.

KURAS.

Kuras is also attracted to oddballs and quirky types, although unlike Vere, he's not super interested in physical appearance or their ability to stick out in a crowd. He's much more drawn to interesting personalities: people with unique tics, speech patterns, responses, and the like.

His favorite part of relationships (sexual, romantic, and otherwise) is gradually learning what makes the other person tick, so unless he gets the sense that there's something interesting lingering under the surface, it can be hard to get his attention. He needs to feel like there's some kind of puzzle to be solved, and a tricky one at that.

On the other hand, once his curiosity has been captured, he's an incredibly attentive partner--even if it's not entirely unlike the kind of attention an entomologist would give a bug under the microscope.

He's also drawn to outspoken, forthright personalities to counter his more polite and subdued persona. There's something he finds incredibly amusing about a person who speaks their mind even when they know it'll get them into trouble.

For that reason, Kuras is, much like Ais, attracted to bratty types. Unlike Ais, he expects them to learn the rules at some point down the line. While his form of discipline is a gentle, cool-headed one, he still views himself as more of a teacher than a playmate.

He very much prefers to feel in control of a given situation (even if that isn't immediately obvious in the way he presents himself). It can make him stubborn, to the extent that he'll reject the advances of a person he's interested in just because he wants to be the one to confess.

While this characteristic can make him come across as rather clinical in his approach, it gets its chance to shine when paired with his detail-oriented nature. From a grand confession of love to a simple weeknight dinner date, he's extremely methodical about preparing the perfect romantic atmosphere for his partner's tastes, from the locale and decor to the scent of his cologne.

While his partner needn't necessarily come across as kind at first impression, it is deeply important to Kuras that they have a good, generous heart. All the better if he gets to be the one to make them feel safe showing it to the world.

He likes 'em a little clingy and needy, too. Independence isn't necessarily a turn-off, but he needs to feel like all the effort he puts in is appreciated, or he'll move on to some other curiosity.

LEANDER.

We all know that this man loves to flirt, and in a much more grandiose, romantic sense of the word than Vere or Ais at that. In the same way that he gets a bit of a rush putting his strength to use in a fight, he likes using his charm and good looks to get a reaction out of people.

That's not to say his teasing is ingenuine; Leander comes on strong because he knows what he's looking for, from his partner's looks and the way they carry themself in a crowded room to the way they respond to his advances. He wants to be with someone who'll fall as fast and hard as he does, and as manipulative of a tactic as it may be, he's willing to put on the mask of a romantic until he finds the one that responds in kind.

Leander doesn't play games. Once he commits himself to a person, that's it. His absolute devotion is yours, and he expects that loyalty to be returned. Some of his biggest turn-offs are people who don't seem sure of what they want, or who won't express their feelings to him straightforwardly. He'll put up with some level of shyness, but too much beating around the bush and he starts to feel more like a therapist than a partner.

Total ass man. He has no compunctions about grabbing it in public to get a rise out of you--not to mention how utterly shameless he is behind closed doors.

He also really likes long hair. He has a lot of restless energy and tends to fidget when forced to stay still for long periods of time, so playing with your hair is one of his favorite ways to calm his mind. Braiding it and running his hands through it if it's straight, or spiraling your curls around his fingers--he doesn't mind either way, just wants it silky-soft and long enough to play with. (He also loooooves helping you wash and care for it.)

He's very physically affectionate in private, and even more so in public. He likes showing his partner off, and being shown off by them. To some this might make him come across as rather shallow (his favorite date nights involve going to bars or out dancing--anywhere that gives him the opportunity to turn some heads), but to him, it's a way of demonstrating that no matter how many may want him, he's decided you're the only one deserving of his attention.

[adastra121]

You know what. I’m gonna ramble about the Touchstarved LIs favourite places to kiss (based on the polls from @cacaobean760) — the most popular results — because I have thoughts!

Leander’s is the hands, because. He likes to be the special person, the only one who can actually touch MC’s hands without being affected, kissing them on the hand is a possessive thing. But also, even without the curse, he strikes me as someone who likes to kiss people on the hand in that classic romantic, gentlemanly fashion. He’s a performer, of course he’d go for that classic romantic gesture, raising your hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Kissing the inside of your wrist, your pulse point, he likes the amount of trust you place in him. And apparently he’s ticklish, so. Tickling under his jaw, he laughs and then he holds your hand there, and kisses your palm.

Ais likes the forehead or anywhere on the head, because he likes your mind the most, having lived in the Groupmind for so long, I don’t think he wants you to lose it and everything that makes you you. He strikes me as someone who really likes people’s minds, judging from the way he likes to listen to Kuras ramble about alchemy, judging from the questions he asks MC in the demo. He just seems the type to be genuinely curious and interested in what’s going on in your head. Kissing you on the forehead or temple whenever you’re lost in thought in those comfortable, quiet moments with him just to bring you back like: “Where’d you fly off to just now, sparrow?” Also he’s tall, so he can reach your forehead more easily.

Vere likes the intimacy, sensuality and power behind neck kisses. He likes the warmth, how your scent is stronger there. He likes how he can hear and feel your pulse under his lips. Gently tracing his sharp teeth along your pulse point, your carotid artery. With just enough pressure to make you hyper aware of his every movement. It would just take one bite. One quick slice of his fang, a spray of red and you’d bleed out in his arms. He thinks you’d taste heavenly. It doesn’t mean that he wants to kill you, he just likes that he can, he likes the amount of power he has over you — and maybe that you trusted him enough to give that to him.

[leerevoid]

A request from the ts discord!

The LI's with an MC who usually dresses really modestly dressing slightly scandalous for a date. Like, their usual outfit inudes long sleeves+pants, baggy clothing, layers, etc and the date outfit is tighter, exposes some torso when they move Juuuuust right, maybe has a chest window and lacy bits or something else scandalous

Thank you so much for your request, anon ! It was very sweet and I'm super sorry for the time it took me to answer it but !! here goes !!

The Love Interests when MC dress slightly scandalous, while they usually dress modestly -

Ais - Ais would be the type to tease MC as soon as he realizes they put some effort into it. He would make jokes, getting on MC's nerves slightly : “Someone is looking very nice today, Why is that, I wonder…?” But in the end, he would be very touched by MC's efforts to impress him for a date. If MC ends up being insecure with their choice of clothing, he would reassure them instantly, offering to hold their hand and kissing their knuckles despite the bandages, telling MC that in the end, they are beautiful to him no matter what, and he doesn't need these artifices to see how wonderful they are. 

“Your true colors are everything to me.”

Kuras - Kuras would definitely be excessively flustered and surprised MC decided to put in some effort to impress him. He would double check everything during the date, making sure MC is alright, wanting to step up his own game to make it a worthwhile experience for MC. He would be completely at loss for words, but MC would know just with his gaze how much Kuras loves and reveres them, his eyes completely on MC at all times, savoring the moment with them and the sight of their beauty. 

“You are breathtaking, tonight. I hope you can shine some of your light on me, one day.”

Leander - Leander would blush so bad. He would act all gentlemanly and proper, but on the inside, he would be dying to hold MC in his arms, and he would ask them just that. Thanks to his magic, MC would have absolutely no issue to reciprocate the contact. He would be so proud to be MC's significant other, looking at them with pure adoration as they chuckled at one of his stupid jokes. Leander would never leave MC's side during their date, getting extra cuddly and craving their contact.

“I just want to feel the real you, Love. Now won't you hold me some more ?”

Mhin - Mhin would be quiet, at first. They wouldn't understand why, out of all the people MC knew, they would dress up for them. Mhin would be so used to MC's standard fits that they would probably gasp a little seeing them, but would probably makes it pass as a yawn. This new outfit definitely makes Mhin see MC in a new light, the outfit they picked hugging their forms just right while not being too revealing, leaving some space to imagination. They would probably caress Mc's cheek at the end of the date, finally admitting how wonderful MC looked. 

“I do have to say… you didn't really need to go all out like this.. but it does suit you. It suits you so well.”

Vere - Vere would be proud of MC for finally rivalizing with him. He would show MC off to everyone, yet still holds MC’s waist possessively with one hand. They are his. MC feels a little like an expensive bag spurn around, but the excited swish of Vere’s tail is enough to reassure them and make them realize that he truly appreciate the effort MC put into this date. If MC let him, Vere would add his own little touch to it, giving MC an accessory or a shawl he particularly likes (and marking MC as their prey, and no one else’s). 

“Well, well, well… I have to admit that dressed like this, you could give me some serious competition in the Amaryllis District. But with that… Yes, you’re perfect like this. Now, they know who you belong to.”

[softagenda]

pillow talk (multi)

rating: m+

drabble collection: moments with each LI in the sheets, told through intimate and vaguely sinister drabbles

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

You stared into the smoldering fire by the bed, amidst the sumptuous blankets and furs, from the prison of his arms, suddenly cold.

Leander

“And how does the magic happen,” you teased, now languorous and slightly drunk, your body aching pleasantly and cheek pressed to his bare chest.

“Give and take, beautiful.” His hand stroked along your back, tracing a swirling, winding pattern.The rings on his fingers brushed a cool kiss against your skin. “Sometimes, it’s a small thing: a free drink here, a favor there. For others, well… every debt must be repaid in equal measure.”

A handful of free drinks. A room at the inn. 

Information, knowledge of the city, a personal guide. 

Minutes - an hour now, altogether - holding your hand, resisting an ancient curse, a risk of incalculable value.

You stared into the smoldering fire by the bed, amidst the sumptuous blankets and furs, from the prison of his arms, suddenly cold. 

The tip of a finger dipped in the valley of your spine and drew a line up your back. As though he felt the slight stiffening of your body, his hand settled against the nape of your neck, his palm a hot, firm weight holding you to him. His thumb sat below your jaw, stopping over your pulse.

Leander rested his cheek against your head and pressed a kiss to your hair, the words drifting across your ear like the mist enshrouding the city.  “The only truth of this universe is this: nothing is free.”

_______________________________________

Kuras

Candlelight brought you from the shadows of your doze.

Blurrily, you nuzzled closer to the firm pillow by your face when the familiar scent of  magnolia - sweet, slightly citrus, earthy - filtered through your senses, alerting you like smoke in a barn.

Your eyes opened. 

The pillow was, in fact, a thick, muscled thigh covered in a layer of white cotton trousers. Following the leg upward, you took in the sight of Kuras in the dim,  flickering light of a single candle by the bedside. He held a book in his lap, one hand idly turning a withered page. A thin trail of smoke drifted into the dark beyond his shoulder.

Gold eyes met yours after a moment. Even in the deep night, they glowed brighter than the flame at his hip. 

He smiled indulgently. “Dawn will not break for  a few hours more. Sleep.” 

You stared at that smile, blinking heavily, clinging to wakefulness for just a little longer. A thought nudged at the fuzzy edges of your mind at the smile, the eyes - a thread of disquiet amidst the warm cocoon of blankets and his body.

Kuras lifted one hand and turned to the bedside table. A thin stick passed through the flame, the smoke blooming like petals from the stem, before magnolias perfumed into the air once more. 

As the scent wrapped around you, filled your lungs, soothed the voice at the back of your mind, a large hand cupped your cheek. His thumb caressed the corner of your eye before coaxing the lid shut and lingering there, gently holding.

“Sleep. I am here with you. I will watch over you.”

You slipped back into the night.

________________________________________

Ais

The soft bubbling of water woke you.

Your hand sleepily tugged the kimono over the bared edge of your shoulder. You’re curled into a ball beneath the thin fabric, legs fully tucked under the hem, hands curled against your chest, a tortoise sheltering from the cool, humid air drifting from the water’s edge.

Peering through the folds, you stared at the empty sheets next to your eyes adjusted to the night. Then, turning on your other side, you looked for him.

Glowing red eyes caught yours instantly.

He leaned against the open door. Moonlight painted his chest and shoulders pale silver, glinting sharp on the necklace that hung by his navel, his rings, his horns. A cigarette lingered by his mouth. As he drew another puff, embers burned and flared at the end.

“Want a hit?”

You sighed and rolled over on the bed, cheek pressed to the cold sheets. “No. Could use a drink though.” Your mouth felt dry, your belly hollow.

Ais held your gaze for a moment before releasing the smoke in a soft grin. He flicked the cigarette outside the door and strode over, bare feet silent on the creaking wood of the old pier.

At the edge sat a chalice. With two fingers, he hooked the rim, knelt by the red waters, and dipped it beneath the Seaspring.

The chalice full to the brim, spilling over his fingers, Ais took a seat on the bed and braced his arm over you. Several drops fell to the sheets; they wicked into the fabric, not fading to a blush but thickening like blood.

You glanced up from the stain to his face cast in shadow, the red gleam of his eyes thickening too, swallowing up his pupil..

“Drink up, sparrow.”

_____________________________________________

Vere

A claw traced delicately over the crown of your head before sinking into the length of your hair. He stroked as though petting a cat - idly, indulgently, reclined against the mountain of pillows on his bed and curled above you with his chin braced on his palm and bent elbow.

You laid there on the sheets, sweaty and panting, every nerve in your body vibrating, aching with the ghost of pleasure and pain. A sickly feeling sapped the strength from your body. The gold veins across your hands and arms felt hollow as scorched earth.

“Can’t catch a breath?” His voice curled with smug satisfaction, the smirk evident without needing to see for yourself.  “All that muscle and misery, with the stamina of a virgin.”

Craning your head back, you glared at Vere through the messy fringe of hair sticking to your face. His claws pricked the nape of your neck. You arched your back away from the bright points of pain and heat.

“Soon, I’ll have you trained to my tastes,” he mused, his gaze trailing down your bare body. “Enough to sate me, at the very least. It’d be troublesome to have you burn out too fast.” 

Fur brushed against your thighs and stomach. His thick, russet tail flowed over your body in a fiery river, the soft pelt tickling over your skin. Heat radiated from it, the ancient magic humming in his veins, less volatile now that he’d taken the edge off.

After one last teasing prick of claw, Vere reached down and lifted the length of chain pooled on the sheets. He slipped the end around your neck and pulled through. 

Then, with a rumbling sigh, he leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. “Wake me up before noon, and you’re lunch.”

With a flick of his hand, the candles extinguished. 

You stare at the dark ceiling, cold steel brushing your throat with every breath.

______________________________________

Mhin

A chill settled over your skin, casting your dreams in shades of winter. Goosebumps rolled down your arms in a wave. Subtle, heavy breaths disturbed the peace of the night.

Your eyes shot open.

The window gaped open. An autumn breeze stole inside, undulating against the curtains. Clear moonlight spilled across the floor, illuminating the toe of a boot and a pool of blood. A ghostly figure sat beneath the sil.

Heart pounding, you held still, squinting through your lashes, trying to see the face hiding within shadow.

Thick leather pants and bracers. Flowing white shirt. Midnight blue hood, hooked to the collar with silver rings. The light caught the edges of messy hair beneath the hood, shining in the gloom like frost across a frozen pond.

Your hand released its taught grip on the dagger beneath your pillow.

Wrapping the blankets around your body, you sat up and leaned across the mattress. “.... Mhin?”

White eyes with red pupils appeared within the shadowed face. 

You shuffled to the edge of the bed. Glancing at the blood, you asked, “are you injured?”

After a quiet moment, they slowly shook their head. Mhin folded one leg and braced their arm on their knee. In their hand was a silver dagger, twin to the one you’d hidden beneath your pillow. Fresh blood licked the edge of the blade.

“Are the bodies on the roof or the street?”

Finally, a spark appeared in their eyes. “Strung them up like gargoyles.” 

You huffed a laugh. Fresh corpses lured Soulless like flies to honey. They’d never. “How thoughtful of you to help decorate for Leander’s party tomorrow.”

Mhin shot you a weary look that clearly spelled the fuck do you think, before their head dropped back on the wall with a soft thud. The bruises beneath their eyes were dark as plums. They’d never slept soundly, but since the attacks had started, a few good hours had dwindled into a half hour here and there at best.

You considered chiding them for a moment before sighing and rising from the bed. Scooping the quilt from the bed, you shuffled over and dropped down to the floor next to them.

“What are you doing,” they grumbled, frowning when you leaned into Mhin’s side. 

Heedless of the blood wicking into the sheets, you spread the bedcovers across their lap and yours before gingerly resting your head on their shoulder. 

Mhin sucked in a breath. “You’re not actually going to sleep like this?” When you only closed your eyes, they growled, “Ridiculous.”

Minutes passed. Then, “I’ll shove you off the second another wave hits. You realize that, right?”

You kept silent. Beneath the sheets, you found their hand and covered the back with your palm, fingers webbing through the gaps between theirs,  hoping to warm them.

“Your back’s going to hurt like hell tomorrow.” 

Then slowly, as the night and their body next to yours filled you with a sense of safety, their grip tightened on your fingers.

A smile slipped across your mouth as you drifted off to sleep once more.

_____________________________

a/n: ending on a fluffy note - comments and likes are appreciated!

[alexisomnias]

THORNS TO EVERY ROSE. . | touchstarved

you walk along the damp streets, staring at the red rose in your hands. Before long you reach the turn off of where to go, you debate your options of who you wish to deliver the gift too. Your gaze lifts up, and the decision of which direction you'll take comes up.

Who will you gift the flower to?

KURAS

        kuras expression remains still for what you could imagine the first ten seconds to be. You grew antsy before seeing a small smile growing forth upon his face, spinning the flower between his fingers as if too remember every indent in it, the red petals glimmering brightly, as if it were on fire. he hums before holding the flower close to his chest, his gaze flickers back and force between you and the flower. his smile turns back from gratitude, to something more unreadable.

"You do realize the red color on a rose means love, do you not?" there's a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, "are you trying to tell me something?"

LEANDER

        leander is briefly brought back to your first meeting as you hand him a rose, though unlike his own display of flowers, once his fingers wrap around the prickly stem it doesn't disappear. he laughs almost bashfully? as his fingers brush against yours, (oh how he loves having that pleasure), smiling. his gaze is soft as he stares and analyses each petal on the flower, as if one would be more red then the other.

"thank you so much." he grips the flowers–– you kind of wonder if his grip will crush it (it sure looks like it will.)

VERE

        vere laughs, his right eyebrow raised as he eyes you down. you think he's going to turn you into your snack before his gaze brushes back down the the flower he twirls in his fingers. his thoughts stay silent, yet are so loud at the same time, his gaze never drifting, you can't read him so you choose not to look far into it. but little do you know is that his heart dropped down to his gut. he's never received smaller, gifts, humans use like flowers. But the gesture, is warming in a way.

"what is this? a love confession?" he teases, his demeanor back– as if those small seconds of fondness was never there in the first place.

AIS

        ais stares down at the flower in what seems to be confusion. his large hands a contrast to the delicacy of the rose. ais never understood human sentiments like this, what good came in giving a flower that would die within a few days? but no matter, he holds the flower gently, keeping it from crumbling under his own touch. his gaze turns playful as a lopsided grin reaches his face, staring off to you.

"what's this supposed to be? it looks nothing of speciality." he hums, but on contrast to the callous in his words, the way of which he gazes at the thin flower and its beautiful petals tells the opposite.

MHIN         mhin is almost reluctant to accept the rose, their fingertips dancing around the stem before they actually grip it. they don't quite understand what you wish to succeed with in giving them a flower, but they accept it out of courtesy. their gaze remains stone as their eyes swirl in reflection the rose in intensity. their mind races a mile for a minute for reasons you can't see through, and you don't end up finding out as they sigh almost tiredly (you wonder if they were dissing you in their head or something), moving their stare to you.

"thanks, though you shouldn't expect anything back." from what seems to be an uncaring front through tongue, the slight blush that reaches their face draws the story for you.

[vinaxxo]

Can you write to Leander and Ais, who are basically competing and fighting for MC/Reader?? (i'm obsessed with these two men)

Im obsessed w them too bookie 🤤🤤 love this idea, hope i did it some justice, may expand on it later <33

~ PICK ME, CHOOSE ME, LOVE ME (LMAO)

Being new to Eridia, the doctor who brought you back from the dead, Kuras, recommended that you see a man named Leander for help.

Leander fully welcomed you into his territory, even offering you magical flowers to greet you. Though you didn’t trust him much yet, his noble and kind demeanor was a charm you couldn’t resist.

Leander knew this, and whenever you came around, he turned up his charm to the max. He was greedy for your attention and determined to make you dependent on him for everything— the physical and emotional.

That being said, he loved shoving the fact that he was able to touch you in everyone’s faces, especially Ais’. Ais never showed his disdain for it, but if you looked at him hard enough, you’d notice his easy smile twitch.

When you’re away from the mage, the demon tells you that you shouldn’t trust so blindly. That the mage isn’t what he seems. It was hard for you to believe that Leander was a complete monster behind those captivating emerald eyes… or maybe you just refused to believe it.

“Sparrow, why don’t you crash here for the night? Princess misses you.”

And no, Ais doesn’t have a problem using Princess to keep you around him, even if just for a second longer.

Ais was an intriguing individual to you, not one to say much but say everything at the same time.

Whenever Ais came to the bar— on invitation by Leander at that, he always sat next to you. If someone was occupying said seat, he’d only have to look down at the person for less than a second to get them to move.

He enjoyed the banter, about whose drink was better, who had the better bad jokes. Ais only realized that he truly needed you when he observed your features and magnetic demeanor over the rim of his glass.

Leander’s laughter died down as he watched both you and Ais grin at each other, feeling the glass in his own hand begin to crack. He mended it with faded green swirls, as if he never lost his composure in the first place. The hound Leander was talking with had left him be, knowing better than to pry.

As you ordered another round of drinks, the mage and demon exchanged looks, both borderline murderous before returning to their own business.

Ais chuckled at the start of a new kind of rivalry before downing his shot, and wouldn’t answer you when you asked what was so funny. Competing for your love against Leander may be the most fun he’s had in years.

© vinaxxo 2024. Do not use my works for ai, or reposting to different platforms. Thanks for reading <3

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 When you think you can’t celebrate your new years, your new friends make it possible.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Nothing much, Unnamed/Oracle reader, and reader is kinda implied to have Asian heritage, also pure fluff.

𝘼/𝙉 Happy Thai New Years! I’m so excited to post this because I finally got to write something for Songkran! The last few times I was unable to because I had nothing good to write, but this year I finally do! I do hope you guys enjoy this because this means a whole lot to me! I’ve never been able to celebrate Songkran in Thailand, but one day I hope to!🥺🙏🏼🇹🇭💦

You situate yourself in a lonely booth at the Wet Wick, watching as Leander entertains his gaggle of Bloodhounds and serves unique to questionable beverages.

Ais and Vere are chatting away at one end of the bar, lost in their own game, and Kuras is on the opposite side of the bar with an untouched drink that Leander thrusted into his hand; the doctor just smiling courteously as usual while watching everyone around him.

You begin to wonder if Mhin was here when their lithe form sits in the empty space in front of you, the couch squealing slightly from sudden weight.

Their lips are twisted in a fussy frown. “Gods it’s stuffy in here.”

“Nice to see you too,” you tease.

Mhin gives you a pointed look but their lips quirk slightly. “You look sad,” they suddenly remark, face falling back to neutrality. “Why’s that? Did some drunkard bother you?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you assure them quickly. You then twirl your glass of water, the slowly dissolving ice cubes clinking together and the sweat of the water wetting your gloved hands.

“Where I came from, today would mark as our new years. There’d be a water festival going on and the temple would be quite busy. The water symbolizes washing away last years bad choices and karma. I… Hate that I won’t be participating this year,” you confess with a longing smile.

Mhin’s face softens, but they look away, unsure of what to say.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure with a light laugh. “I just wanted to be truthful. I’ll find some way to celebrate Songkran. Maybe if I’m lucky it’ll rain before it’s over.”

Mhin nods before muttering softly, “Well… Happy Songkran, (Y/N).”

You give them a warm smile, feeling beyond touched, and Mhin blushes.

“Thanks, Mhin. It really means a lot to hear that.”

They nod before clearing their throat. “Tell me more about it?”

“Well, almost everyone participated by either throwing water at each other or going to the temples. It’s just a fun event where everyone is collectively happy, unburdened for only just a while. Washing away the negativity and being with loved ones, and sharing a good meal too,” you list off wistfully.

“Gods, I miss a lot of things from home.”

You further go on to explain the foods you once used to eat, and how at the temple you used to live at, people would pour water on the monks hands and receive blessings in return. It felt nice to see their hopeful and happy spirits.

“I’m gonna go head up now before I get overwhelmed. Thanks for listening, Mhin,” you thank, getting a soft nod and mumbles from them.

You bid the others good night and tuck yourself into bed, doing your best to not long for what you once had, and not look at your wretched arms.

There was only one more day left of Songkran and each passing day you’ve become more and more depressed and moody, occasionally pulling away from the other for some space and so that you don’t ruin their moods.

You’re suddenly awoken just as you finally had managed to force yourself to sleep. Someone is lightly shaking you.

“(Y/N)…? (Y/N), wake up.”

“Leander…? What is it?” your grumble.

“Come on and get dressed. Quickly!” he urges, excitement blooming in his voice.

He pulls you up from the bed and you bite back annoyance, going behind a changing screen to dress more appropriately.

Once dressed you let Leander grab ahold of your gloved hand and pull you downstairs. You blink as the light stings your eyes and your aware that the other Bloodhounds are still in the Wet Wick, but they’re not as rowdy.

Leander has you stand at the entrance and you slowly realize it’s raining.

You blink and look at him. “I’m not following.. What’s happening…?”

Leander laughs and brings your frame into his. “Oh come on Sunshine! It’s raining! Look, Mhin told us about how around this time it’s your new years where you’re from, and me and the others planned a night of celebration for you! And we’re lucky it actually started raining!”

Your eyes widen as it sinks into your brain. Your heart races with hope and happiness. “You..?”

Leander chuckles, smiling brightly. “Vere and myself got musicians, and Ais, Mhin, and Kuras helped to get ingredients to make a few dishes you enjoyed!”

You cover your face and twist your lips to stop the trembling.

The familiar smells of food from home now hit your nose and you look back inside to see the other Bloodhounds watching with anticipating smiles and looks, and the gang at the bar, all looking pleased.

“Shit you guys, I’m gonna fucking cry!” you laugh out a sob, pinching you eyes to stop the tears.

Leander walks you to the bar and lets your take a seat. There’s curry, and a noodle dish you loved to eat, and you’re practically salivating, having skipped dinner to go force yourself to bed.

“How’d you get some of these ingredients? I haven’t been able to find any oriental stalls here!”

“We have our ways, Sparrow,” Ais winks before sneaking a glance at Kuras who looks just as pleased.

“We even managed to make that simple dessert you spoke of.”

You sweat a little, wondering if Kuras had a hand at cooking anything by himself. You look at Ais who gives you a subtle gesture of assurance.

You love Kuras, but that man was not skilled at cooking, bless him.

You relax with a sigh, thanking them all again.

Food is served to you and others and the entertainment starts up, the band skillfully playing their instruments, and even Leander joins in with a tambourine, dancing on a table.

You made sure to not eat too much, which was smart because Vere is the first to yank you into a dance.

You could hardly focus on dancing when the fox is so mesmerizing with his fluid and seductive movements, his eyes never leaving yours and that coy, yet infuriating smirk on his face.

Just as you’re getting into your groove, you’re yanked away by Mhin, separated from Vere.

Thankfully before Vere could kick up a fuss (with violence), Ais pacifies him by pulling him into an equally seductive dance.

Now that you’re with Mhin, they now seem clueless on what to do, the poor thing blushing brightly and holding your arm.

But Kuras remedies their awkwardness by initiating a dance. Soon your passed between them both, feeling exhilarated and still a little shy.

The rain outside becomes a bit louder and you pause. When you glance at them both, they understand your need.

Kuras helps guide you through the dancing bodies of others, Mhin glued at your back, hand gripping your shirt tightly.

Once at then entrance of the Wet Wick, you step out into the downpour, feeling a wave of nostalgia as you become drenched.

The music is still loud and you glance back at Kuras and Mhin.

Mhin looks a little guilty as they decide to stay put and you’re not upset.

Kuras shrugs and steps out to join you, the both of you continuing your dance, although this time it’s far more sillier as you hold hands and swinging each other around and then trying to do a waltz, you squealing when he dips you effortlessly.

“Hey, there you are!” It’s Leander and he happily joins in the rain, stealing you from Kuras and twirling you around, you laughing happily.

And shortly after, Ais arrives, and you’re once more passed between your dance partners.

Then Leander starts a water fight, using his magic to splash you and Ais, the both of you doing your best to retaliate with your feet.

Kuras is protected from any splashes, likely using his wings, and Vere and Mhin remain at the entrance, safe from the rain and threatening Ais and Leander to not even think about getting them wet.

“Cowards!” Leander mocks playfully before getting tripped by Ais, and you clutch your stomach as you all but die with laughter before eventually trying to get back at Ais for his attack on Leander.

In the end, you both end up on the ground and in their hold, still giggling and overwhelmed into happy tears.

“Thanks so much, you guys! This means the fucking world to me, and I won’t ever forget it!” your promise, flashing them a wonderful and bright smile.

And each one of them gives you an adoring smile in return, making you feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Happy Songkran, (Y/N)!”

[seraphiism]

❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ;

( my heart slams against my ribs when i think of the slaughtered nights i spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. )

characters : ais / leander / kuras fandom : touchstarved quote cr : henry rollins a/n : each character is limited to 250 words! how canon is this ? it is not ✩°｡⋆⸜(ू˙꒳˙ )

↬ ais ࿐ ࿔

BLOOD IS NEVER MEANT TO BE A BEAUTIFUL THING, BUT THE SEASPRING IS A SIREN : A SALVATION AND DAMNATION ALL AT ONCE.

no, blood is not meant for greater things, the brilliant reflection in sanguine so alluring and tempting. blood is not meant for greater things, but ais has fallen prey to this siren, found coexistence with a terror that all should fear.

he does not know if it's a mistake, nor does he know if there is regret that dwells in this monstrous heart of his.

( it doesn't matter. monsters don't have hearts, anyway, and demons are no different. )

perhaps it is not a mistake for him, but it would be for you. you, who has carried this burden for all your life, only knowing it as a blessing until recent times. you, who stares into the seaspring with an unreadable expression, pupils dilated, fists clenched.

he does not know if he should stop you, break your thoughts away from a vicious ending. because your ending will be the ending of so many, minds a haze, memories lost and mixed with the masses.

"careful, sparrow," he leans down, face dangerously close to yours, "there are other ways to break my heart, you know-- if that's what you're trying to do."

he expects that familiar spark of anger in your eyes, but there is nothing but fear and uncertainty. you swallow hard, dare to move closer to him until your lips are only inches apart.

"convince me to stay, then."

↬ leander ࿐ ࿔

YOUR CURSE IS YOUR ORIGIN, FINGERTIPS DRENCHED IN MADNESS AND PROPHECIES FOREWARNED. YOUR CURSE IS YOUR ORIGIN / YOUR DOWNFALL / HIS SERENITY.

in a brave new world full of evils and betrayals, leander is the closest thing to sanctuary. you do not trust too easily nowadays, upbringing created from lies and horrid intentions. in your hands, there is a curse that brings ruin to you and another : your mind wreaked with havoc of guilt, theirs with the havoc of the knowing.

so you hide. you hide your hands, hide the black and gold that is so deeply dark yet bright all the same. because nothing good can come from your touch-- or so you think.

you have done this before, known it was safe, but there is something so frightening in this moment, your body trembling so violently that you almost give into the instinct to flee. but leander knows you all too well, grabs your hands before you can revoke them.

"it's okay." he soothes you in gentle tones, that familiar pink dusting his cheeks. "nothing happened last time. you can't hurt me."

but you can, you can-- and the mere thought makes your eyes sting, vision blurring. but he believes in you, watches closely as he guides your hands to rest on his face.

nothing happens, save for the pounding of your hearts alike and the knowing comfort in your touch. leander's smile grows, faint, and he wonders how cruel the world could be, to curse someone so beautiful.

↬ kuras ࿐ ࿔

WRETCHED ARE THE ANGELS MADE FROM IMPURITIES AND FALSE DEITIES, TRUE INTENTIONS TURNED ROT WITH THE BURIAL OF SIN & GRIEF UNINTENDED.

kuras has saved your life once before, the touch of the divine invoking the resurgence of bloom in the withering roots of the soul. how you were so close to death back then, limb for a limb, life for a life, the stain of the soulless etched into your skin.

you are far from ordinary; he has known that from the beginning, knows there is a quiet redemption in your existence. in the many years he has lived, a life destitute and once full of better days, he almost feels something akin to hope in a weary heart.

"you are always saving me." you whisper one night, voice and spirit upon the verge of break, and perhaps there is a guilt somewhere-- a selfishness, and you do not know what to make of it.

and it's true-- it is, because danger is all you have known since arrival in eridia, yet kuras is a lighthouse, a safekeeping, a haven found. but you are the furthest from burden and he wishes for you to know that, to understand that, and to accept that.

so with a tenderness of a higher being, his thumb ghosts over your cheekbone, the kindest of smiles on his visage.

what will you be, he wonders : his happy ending or his swan song?

"you may be the one who is doing the saving, after all."

[trappolia]

FEELING HUMAN, HOOKED ON YOUR BREATH ── leander + gn!reader, 430

leander is painfully aware of his reputation; knows that you've heard rumours of how the corner room you currently occupy in the wet wick was once exclusively for him and his one-night-stands, vere's little quips of him getting some action with a stranger or two in dark alleys, and he hasn't exactly been subtle with the way he looks at you in the candlelight when you're huddled together in one of the booths. he knows that you're no fool, that you're not deaf to the warnings to stay away from him lest you fall too deep into his spell of dark magic—

but you stay anyway.

perhaps it is because he is one of the few to offer you some semblance of comfort in the unfamiliar streets of eridia without asking for anything else, or because he is the only one capable of touching your bare hands and remain sane enough to see the exact shade of your pretty eyes, but whatever the reason, he finds himself unable to care. he finds himself doing a lot of uncharacteristic things since you've come around, actually.

leander does not believe in god, has never even entertained such thoughts of a divine entity existing with the sort of life he's led since birth, but he thinks that despite your curse, you are the closest thing to an angel he's ever met. leander feels bad about it, really; the thoughts that plague his mind when he lets you trace the grooves and scars of his calloused hands, your darkened fingertips ghosting upon the skin of his forearm like a dancer from the amaryllis district. he feels guilty, as if he's taking advantage of your trust like this, even if you're the one who's touching him, but it's outweighed by that something that leander still can't name even after all those nights of laying awake in night or nursing his nth bottle of rum in the wet wick at some ungodly hour of the night; something about how you touch him like he's the only solid thing in the world, the look in your eyes when you find your fingers wandering over to the scar on his face.

there is no such thing as heaven or hell, just the monsters (soulless and mortal) that linger in the space between, but your touch is divine, and for the first time in his life, leander wants nothing more than to repent for his sins, to whisper his confessions against the warm dark-gold of your knuckles as if he could find some semblance of forgiveness in your skin.

© trappolia 2024

[aisaisaiss]

leander who is so much bigger compared to you. leander whos hands compared to yours are so much bigger, caloused, and scarred. leander who puts his fingers to use on you, pumping them in and out leaving you breathless, all the while his pants-you can tell their strained. leander who chuckles kissing your sensitive areas, smiling when you get bashful. leander who eats you out like he’s starving, lapping up all your juices not letting any go to waste. leander who’s so big the stretch leaves you seeing stars, and clawing his back. leander who groans at the sight of you having a belly bulge. leander who’s thrusts are fast and deep. leander who hugs you tightly after your ehem activities. leander who washes you up in a nice warm bath kissing you softly.

[icyowl]

Fields of Dolos

Pairing: Leander x reader

Synopsis: Leander sees your curse in action for the first time. You tend to his wounds while he tends to your heart.

Request: none

A/N: Help this man has made me feral. How can you expect me to wait 2 and a half years to find out his secret?!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

You'd love to say you were surprised, that you'd never expect yourself to be facedown in the mud, choking on street water, with a man's knee pressing down between your shoulder blades and forcing the remaining air from your lungs. . . but you'd be wrong. Why were you blessed with such a gravitation towards trouble?

The burly man's arms pinned yours to the ground, making it impossible to do anything other than thrash helplessly. He was huge — tall yet thick, his neck bordering on a triple chin. “We saw you with that horned demon. Conspiring to bring the soulless in here and massacre us all? Huh, worthless little wench?”

“That's not. . .” You wheezed. Lack of air was robbing you of your sight. After facing off against monsters from beyond your most twisted nightmares, it would be a slobbering, balding, pig of a man that would end you. How cruel. How ironic.

One comment by him shocked one final, desperate wave of adrenaline into you: “What're these bandages for?”

Suddenly your fight grew more desperate. “Don't! I'll hurt you!”

He seemed to take it as a challenge. “You? Don't think you're in any position to be making threats.”

Words were nearly futile, he was still bracing most of his weight on your back. Still, you had to try, especially when his fingers began to dig under the bandages. “'S not—” your demands turned to pleas when he began to reveal your darkened skin, “please!”

“Whoa, looks like we got ourselves a bonnefide freak here, boys,” he said to the chuckling grunts behind him, “your mom sleep with a monster or something? Bet getting someone to love an unsightly thing like you has been a real chore.” He ended with a laugh, tinging your fear with humiliation. Your mind threw up a brief image of Leander, the only person you'd been able to touch, the only one who put so much effort into showing you kindness. Would he care when he found your corpse?

“Hold her arm still, gents, I wanna take home a souvenir.” You could just catch the gleam of a knife—from what you could see with your head buried sideways in the ground—and struggled with everything you had left.

“No!”

The three of them together took your arm in their hands, the one on top of you bringing the knife to rest on your skin, causing blood to well from under the serrated edge. He had just begun to cut, eliciting a scream from you at the terrible plain, before the madness took hold of them, and brought the whole struggle to a screeching halt. The earth stilled, so too did your heart, until time began to pick up at twice the pace.

By some stroke of luck, as the insanity began to plague their minds, the men turned on each other rather than you, lunging and ripping at one another in a brutal frenzy. You could finally run. And run you did.

Their hideous cackles sounded behind you as you hastily scrambled for purchase in the mud and took off down the streets. Anywhere was safer than here. Were they following you? You didn't stop to look. The only thing you could process as you tore down the alleys was the overwhelming desire to run, to escape. Water obstructed your already impeded vision, burning hot with emotions you couldn't hold back: sorrow, hatred, regret. You'd just condemned more souls to insanity. It didn't matter that they probably deserved it, it didn't matter what they called you or wanted to do to you, it only mattered that you'd brought more trouble than you were worth and you despired your existence for it. Why couldn't you—

—you narrowly avoided colliding right into the man rounding the corner towards you, careful to clutch your arms close to your body until you took in the shocked lichen-colored eyes of the man you trusted most.

“L-Leander?”

He placed gentle hands on your shoulders. “I've been looking everywhere for you—what's wrong?” He added, clearly seeing your terror. You didn’t have the time to answer. If they chased you down, if they caught up… you dreaded to see the aftermath. People affected by your curse not only grew mentally fractured but physically unencumbered by basic human limits. They turned beastly, inhuman, unrecognizable, and the last person you wanted to witness that was Leander.

“They’re coming, we have to go,” you begged.

“Whoa, slow down…”

Icy dread enveloped your burning lungs at the sound of maniacal laughter and rushing footsteps. The three men had indeed tailed you, and now appeared from behind the corner, sporting horrible grins and distorted cackles. They moved at you in a trance; your attempted escape probably provided the instinct to chase you down through the sprawling streets. Frankly you had entirely forgotten Leander was there at all until he pulled you behind his large silhouette, causing the men to slow and become wary at his gaze alone.

They slobbered through enormous smiles until it fell from their chins in fat globs, giggling and mumbling all the while. It was a painful sight to watch but one you were far too familiar with. Just as scared as you were for your own life, you too worried about Leander. Three against one? Three against two—if you could be any help—still didn’t seem like a favorable outcome. There was no way—and yet, Leander looked like he certainly would try.

His hands lit up with the same bright swirls you first saw in the Wet Wick, but the feel of the energy was a far cry from what you’d seen before. Now he felt dangerous.

You voice trembled. “I’m sorry, I never—“

“Stay behind me.” Leander growled lowly. Had he always sounded so commanding? Guilt enveloped you to the point of resigned silence. It was one thing to deal with problems of your own doing, but now you were bringing in others too.

There was a momentary standoff while Leander kept them at bay with his aura alone, enough time for you to be engulfed by guilt to the point of pain. It was one thing to deal with problems of your own making, but now you were dragging in good, innocent people. People that would lead simpler lives without your presence.

Before you could think anymore the three men jumped on Leander. Or, tried to. Your companion transformed into a skilled, tactical fighter, keeping three grown men at bay with his fists, dagger, and waves of magic. It seemed to be going in his favor until the numbers game and their natural ferocity began to play out: as good as he was, Leander wasn’t winning against six tearing hands and burly adults with no regard for personal safety. They went at him like animals.

In the fray, Leander tossed one unwittingly close to your feet. You prayed you wouldn't be spotted, you really did, shrinking back against the alley's decrepit walls. The man's eyes were far too familiar.

Despite the broken jaw, courtesy of Leander, swaying to and fro, the man held you still with a gross and wicked grin. You could tell he had a broken leg, too. It didn't matter. He only stood, forcing the bone protruding from his shin farther out into the open air when he put his weight on it.

Fear? Absolutely.

Guilt? For sure.

Resignation, maybe even relief, that you were about to be put out of your misery? That was there, too.

It seemed like you were meant to suffer, so why not get it over with?

You stared while the man got down on all fours and lunged like the animal you'd turned him into. He flew at you, mouth agape and serrated teeth gleaming with saliva. It would have been the last thing you ever saw if it weren't for Leander, who, in one move, yanked you against his chest and turned so his back took the brunt of the attack. You both shifted as the enormous weight crash into him — he had to brace himself against the wall with his free hand to stay on his feet — yet he held tight, and you remained upright, protected, and unharmed.

A grunt gave away Leander's pain, yet he refused to loosen his grip on you. His voice was tight when he spoke. “You okay?”

You looked at his calm and gentle eyes, mouth wide with shock, and then to the man still biting into his back. Leander didn't wait for your answer. It was probably a good thing — words had escaped you entirely.

By now the savage man had wrenched his teeth free from Leander's shoulder, eliciting a spray of blood, and moved back to assess his options or plan for another onslaught. Leander adjusted the dagger in his grip. Sure, he looked like he could look after himself, the other two already dispatched and laying in the dirt off to the side, but all you could look at was the burgundy blood ebbing from the back of his shoulder and staining his cloak. Your chest shrunk two sizes.

Frankly you should have been used to violence by now — you certainly had seen your fair share — but still you closed you eyes when the man charged at Leander, somehow convinced your skilled friend would meet his end and unable to watch it happen. When you opened them, he was holding the man back with nothing but his hands on the man's arms, pushing him off balance and using the dagger to swiftly and precisely cut across his jugular. The man stumbled, gurgled, and smiled until he dropped dead in a limp heap.

The air began to settle. Dust floated back to the ground and the alleyway had gone silent except for the mildly labored breathing of Leander. He didn't even sound like he'd broken a sweat.

Finally your body felt safe to worry about breathing again. When before you'd been silent with fear, now you took in loud, gasping breaths like there wasn't enough air in the city to fill your tight lungs. Leander was on you in a second, hands trying to ease every jump of your shoulders.

“Easy, easy.” He said.

“I'm so—you shouldn't have had to—I—they—”

You should have been used to instances like this, you were used to instances like this, but what you weren't used to was the sacrifice he had made to keep you safe. Never before had anyone done something like that, and now he was bleeding because of it.

Your eyes found the tears in his cloak where he'd been bitten. It was one thing to know about your curse, to hear about it's side effects, but now he'd seen, with his own eyes, what it could do; he'd bared the brunt of it, too. He had accepted the fissured skin and skittish tendencies, but fighting off deranged men with horrible grins and getting bit in the process as if he were fighting off animals. . . you tucked your chin to your chest, full of dejection. You didn't want to confirm what you knew would be there: anger, disgust, fear, and rejection. A gentle grip on your hands drew your attention. Leander ducked to meet your eyes and you saw nothing but concern for you. It made you feel even worse.

“I,” you began.

“Your panic is consuming you. I need to get you to calm down before your heart bursts.” Leander didn't mean it seriously, but still you did as told. The last thing he needed was to look after you like a child. It took time, and the occasional word of encouragement from Leander, but eventually you were stable enough to stop taking in strangled gulps through your mouth and breathe through the nose like a normal person.

“Focus on your breathing,” he continued, pausing to use his gloved hand to tenderly wipe the mud from your eyes and cheeks, “here, let's get you cleaned up.”

When he was satisfied, he disappeared to get water, and when he was done with that, he walked you back to your room at the Wick, briefly telling a bloodhound to 'tend to what's behind Merda street' while you hide you exposed arm under your cloak. You didn't have the energy to tell Leander that he didn't actually have to help you up the stairs. Before you could get your key in the door's brass lock, Leander's hand was hovering over your arm.

“You're hurt.” He said. For the first time, you looked at the cut you'd received from the man's knife. One clean, crisp line of red bubbled up from your skin where your wrappings had been unwound. In truth you'd forgotten about it entirely.

“It's nothing.” You replied, rushing to open the door and get some space between you and the warm, inviting, chivalrous man crowding your body and mind. The room was small—just a bed, two chairs and a table, and a nightstand—but clean. Better than you'd ever remember having, anyway.

Leander entered the room and shut the door quietly behind him. “It's natural to be scared. They could have killed you.”

“It's not that,” you said hastily. Where had these tears come from? They were invading your eyes and welling up in your throat against all wishes. When Leander grazed your shoulder, sensing something was wrong, you jumped. He saw the look in your eyes. You looked at him like you had the first day you'd met: like you could hurt him.

“Or,” you continued, hand on your forehead to perhaps keep you from falling apart, “or it's just that. I don't know. It's just. . . you saw. You saw what I do to people. Out of everyone, I somehow kept this curse from affecting you, and now it has. Now you have proof how inhuman I am.”

Your other arm inherently covered your body. Anything to be smaller, to disappear. When you spoke again, it was watery with emotion, and you gestured to the wound taunting you from atop his shoulder. “And now I've hurt you—”

Just as you broke down, Leander was there to piece you back together. He pulled you right against his front, close enough that your feet knocked into his, and thumbed away your tears with gentle touches, knowing how sensitive skin could get under his rough gloves. Leander even guided your head back to look at him when you attempted to back out of his hold. Somehow he had laughter in his tone even when you were wracked with guilt and shame.

“You think you could ever hurt me? That I'd blame you? Ais does worse than this on the monthly! And I know you have eyes, I know you've seen that I've been through much worse.”

His gaze was intense with many emotions while he gave you time to look at the scar on his face. The one you'd touched and revered just as he was doing with you now. Leander was right: the scar on his face was proof that he'd endured much more than a bite wound. He still hid much of his past from you; he never talked about himself, always putting you as the center of his attention, and whenever you tried to get him to open up, he deflected smoothly.

No close friends. No long-term relationships (Kuras had told you that much). No real connections apart from you. At least, you thought it was a real connection.

“I'd still like to help tend to it, if that's okay.”

His eyes widened as it dawned on him what that would entail. “Are you sure? I can go to Kuras—”

“Please?”

Leander appraised you for a long moment, looking for what, you didn't know, but eventually he nodded and moved to sit on your single bed. The bed creaked loudly under his weight and he fixed you with an expectant gaze. It dawned on you at that moment that this was the first time you'd see him shirtless.

“Uhh,” you struggled, “I'll g-go get some medical supplies.”

Your trip down to the bar for a small bucket of water and other necessary items was just as much to give you time to work through your thoughts as it was to actually get some water. Would he already be shirtless when you got back? Why did it matter? What if you didn't do it right and he had to leave to find someone else? How did this become such a big deal? Was it a big deal or were you just making it out to be one? No way Leander worried about this as much as you, the guy probably did this with another woman this week. Would you be mad if he had?

The bartender had to say your name twice to get you out of your thoughts.

You returned -- pale, towels, and bandages in hand -- up the creaking stairs to your little room just at the top of the landing. The narrow wooden door, worn with gouges from years gone by and darkened in the grain, stared you down and pinned you still. It felt unyielding.

The brass handle elicited a shiver when you took it in hand.

If you had to guess, you'd expect Leander to have taken his shirt off, and yet, there he sat where you'd left him when you finally opened the door. Clothed, relaxed, smiling.

“I was starting to get worried.” He said.

“Yeah, I. . .” You trailed off awkwardly. Sensing you needed some help, Leander jumped in again.

“I might need some help getting this coat off. If you're still—”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You rushed to put the bucket down by his feet at the bottom of the bed. When you straightened, his eyes were a vibrant jade, comparable only to the precious stones you'd seen the occasional diplomat wear on your travels, and you stepped back, suddenly aware of the close proximity. Leander touched your arm gently to try and prevent you from back away, and showed no reaction when you instinctively flinched. You were still wary of any touch to your arms — you'd been through too much to overcome it so easily — but Leander had been endlessly patient with you. He'd been that way from day one. It was a gesture you were endlessly grateful for, even if your nerves prevented you from voicing it.

There had been one of two people that had been similarly kind, only to reveal their true intentions: kill my enemy, let me experiment on you, help me threaten my family. No one had shown you the genuine kindness that expected nothing in return. No one.

Leander stood, letting you walk around his side to the wide berth of his back and shoulders while he pulled his gloves one finger at a time and tossed them on the bed. "I wish I could help, but," he caught your eye with a mischievous glint in his own, "I think you'll have to undress me yourself this time."

"This time? This is the first time."

"There can always be more."

You decided to ignore his quips in favor of gripping the collar of his coat in your hands. The shudder that overcame him at the feel of your fingers brushing the back of his neck went unnoticed by you.

Leander groaned when you tried to relieve him of his cloak; he couldn't lie, the tugging made the bite mark flare dangerously with discomfort. The guy really got him good.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be, just -- be gentle, baby. I'm a sensitive guy." He added with a laugh.

Leander did his best to suppress a grating hiss when you pulled one sleeve down past his elbow. Sure, the wound was on the other shoulder, but the radiant pain was no joke. Twisting his shoulders in any way sent more blood from the wound like it was excited to leave his body. Just ridding himself of the coat was a slow, laborious process. First one side, then the other, then back again, every tug on his skin pushing more blood out into the air. He was thankful for your patience while he carefully bent this way to shimmy free. After one last pained moan, you were finally able to rid him of the cumbersome jacket and toss it on the bed.

You'd never seen Leander without it before. Even with all the clothes still remaining, you couldn't help the nerves catching fire under your skin, and Leander couldn't help but watch you take him in with a barely-concealed reverence.

Your eyes, after finding Leander's gaze too powerful to maintain, drifted back to the wound and gaped at the clear damage he had to endure. No way would a regular set of teeth do this much damage. "Did this guy really have serrated teeth?" You asked incredulously.

"Some gangs of Lowtown will do it as initiation. They believe it emulates the Soulless and makes them more intimidating."

Well, it proved far worse than simply intimidating. To penetrate his jacket, the leather gorget underneath, and his shirt? Another wave of guilt consumed you. You were no better than the Soulless or those you cursed if you let people around you get hurt. Should you leave town? A painful twist deep in your gut told you how much it would hurt to leave those who were perhaps the first -- the only -- people who cared about you. If it kept them safe, though. . .

"Hey," Leander pulled you quietly from your reverie with soft words and a gentle thumbing of your chin with his good arm, "I could never blame you for something like this, understand? You looked so scared. . ."

You nodded, at a loss for what else to do, having yet to meet his eyes. Leander wasn't convinced, leaning down until there were scarcely a few inches between his face and yours. No way he didn't feel your heart galloping behind your ribs, and yet, the color of his eyes alone and the emotions flickering within -- you dared to think you might have seen adoration -- were almost strong enough to distract you from your own overwhelming reaction to him.

Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it. You'd just begun to taste his exhale on your tongue before he pulled back, allowing you to breathe and clear your head in the cool air that took his place. Had your mouth always been this dry?

You were trying to regain your bearings when another one of Leander's agonized grunts tore you back to the present. What didn't he understand about I'd like to help? In a rush you were on him, reaching up to loosen the straps of his gorget. The buckles were pliable after so much use and were easy enough to undo. Subtle clinking from the metal was the only thing breaking up the otherwise quiet atmosphere. One by one they gave way until all that remained was the one at the back of his neck, holding the collared portion flush against his neck.

Now it was your turn to close the gap. Your heartbeat accelerated with a vengeance, and your fingers trembled as they so often did around him, but still, your persevered. Leander was kind enough to lean forward to make it easier to reach the back of his neck. Kind enough to put your heart into overdrive, more like.

Hurry up. Don't mess up. Hurry up. Don't mess up. Hurry up. Don't mess up.

He only continued to stare down at you, smiling all the while, as you fought to remain calm and keep from fiddling too much with the buckle. At this rate, you were practically embracing him -- something you'd done with others -- so why couldn't you stop worrying?

From here you could watch the unruly strands of his hair tickle his long lashes. A set of criminally stubborn eyebags taunted you from beneath his otherwise vibrant eyes. How had they never gone away? His smile was so easy, so casual, even with the dark circles and the deep scar embedded under his eye and down his neck. Only now did you notice the intense color on his cheeks; how had you gotten so brave?

You stepped away as soon as you were done, embarrassed, only for Leander to catch your arms in a soft grip of his own and meet your eye -- giving you plenty of time to protest -- before deftly beginning to reveal the rest of your cursed hands to the open air. Even the room's stagnant air felt cool against the skin you diligently kept covered under layers of bandages.

"When are you going to worry about yourself?" He asked, carefully inspecting the slash on your forearm.

You resisted the urge to pull back. It was a strange dichotomy: you were so accustomed to keeping to yourself, drawing as little attention as possible, and putting up walls between you and people who would no doubt betray you if it meant bettering their own circumstances; you also felt an intense desire to bear yourself to the man in front of you and be encouraged to do so honestly. If you had the wherewithal, you'd be concerned.

"Uhh," you said faintly. He saw you eyeing the gorget and finally acquiesced to your silent request. The leather came off easily under your grasp. Now in just his shirt, what little of his physique normally kept hidden by his coat now left little to the imagination. Leander was broad, solid, and physically imposing. The remaining leather straps across his chest and stomach only made your mind wander farther faster. When those were gone, you then only had his black shirt to remove.

Then, after some struggle, that was gone, too.

The torrent of emotions sloshing in your stomach churned and roiled. Leander was so clearly damaged, and yet so, so beautiful. You hated staring and yet couldn't bare to look away. What had once been a sizable scar on his cheek and arm now revealed itself to be one massive, monstrous scar across his entire left side. It ran deep (how could he even survive something like this?) a covered his arm, shoulder, pectoral, and neck in a criss-crossing web. There were plenty of other nicks and scrapes and smaller scars, too. The man -- always so sweet and compassionate -- had clearly endured intense pain.

Yet even with all of that he remained devilishly handsome. Toned, muscular. . . he obviously spent a lot of time honing his physique and had great genetics to boot. Unfair, really.

Your admiration meant you'd been openly gawking for some time. Leander laughed a little to try and ease the tension. "I heard chicks dig scars."

That got you out of your funk very quickly. He shushed your rushed apology (you had done that too much today) and waited patiently while you procured rags and soaked them in the bucket of water. His wide back took up most of your sight when you moved to sit behind him on the bed.

"It's gonna sting." You said. His substantial shoulders hunched and flinched when you began to clean the bite wound on his back and shoulder. Now that you'd seen all he'd been through, the bite seemed meager in comparison, despite how it looked like it came from a rapid dog rather than a person.

You worked in silence for some time. Who knew there'd be this many tooth marks? Leander hissed quietly when you pressed on one, causing blood to ooze freely down his back.

Guilt took your heart in its claws and squeezed. Why did you feel so bad? He'd clearly been through worse before. You began to spiral. The emotions from the alleyway -- perhaps now that you finally felt safe -- raced up from your gut and into your throat and mouth. In no time at all water pooled at the bottom of your eyes and you were having a hard time staying silent. No one needed to deal with your silly emotions.

"Hey."

It was Leander. His good arm reached over his opposite shoulder to grasp your hand in a warm grip. Such a gentle caress put your heart on life support. A steady roar of blood erupted in your ears, turning into a cacophony when he let go of your hand only to carefully wipe away a tear that had escaped.

"Breathe." He urged.

How could you?

Regardless, you tried. It became easier when you focused on the jade light softly emanating from his eyes. He continued to thumb at your jaw, cheek, and chin, almost undoing all your progress with the simplest of actions.

"I'm so sorry," you said again, "for what happened, for me, for-"

"You," he interrupted, leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips a little dry but nonetheless reverent, "never need to apologize for something you have no control over, okay? No one blames you, and if they do, tell them to talk to me."

He smirked. Against your will, the corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Okay."

The rest of the cleaning went off without a hitch. It did, however, slow down considerably when you had to bandage the wound. Because of it's odd placement, you would need to anchor the bandages by wrapping around his arm, chest, and shoulder. Did you even have enough to fit around his bulky frame?

Your arms wrapped closely around him every time you wanted to pass the bandages around his front. Thankfully, Leander spared you from any of his usual teasing. You'd probably burst if he hadn't.

Heat continuously ebbed off of him and into your hands. It felt criminal for someone to look like this. . . and more criminal to hide it. How did Leander not have women hanging off his arms at all times?

Then again, the barkeep hinted that he did. Where were they? How was this man not married yet?

You tried to focus on your work instead of wondering about his private life. It wasn't hard, really. After all, Leander's physique was about all you could see. Large trapezius muscles held together toned shoulders, his arms were built, and his forearms veiny. His body fat must have been in a single digits, and his back muscles, prominent yet smooth under lightly freckled skin. . .

Again, criminal.

You swear you were doing final adjustments to the wrappings. You weren't intentionally stroking the large scar on his opposite shoulder. It just happened that you touched it accidentally.

Leander shuddered and worked through a shaky inhale. You retreated, afraid you did something wrong, only for him to quickly ease your worries.

"You're okay. It's just. . ." he exhaled, "sensitive."

Against better judgement, you moved to touch it again. How had Leander become the one person you were brave enough to get close to? He could have anyone, anytime, and yet, here he sat, patient and prone while you satisfied your curiosity and the overwhelmingly natural need for human connection. Your hands spanned the extend of the scar. First, his arm, which he lifted a little to give you better access. Your fingerpads danced up his tricep, almost fascinated when it turned and flexed. Then, you moved up to his shoulder, gently brushing the lines of scar tissue and ghosting along the changes from light to dark skin. The juncture of his neck and shoulder seemed to get the worst of it; so dense was the hatchings of scar tissue you could scarcely see any unharmed skin at all. What could have made such marks? Could it have been something physical, or magical?

Leander couldn't take it anymore when your fingers wandered to where the scar wrapped around his throat. If he let you continue, he didn't think he'd be able to keep himself in check.

Quickly he took you hand in his, dismissing your worries by rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "Careful, sweetheart. We're supposed to be taking it easy. You can't rile me up like that."

Shame made you retreat. Getting off the bed, you moved to gather the unused materials and set them across the room. Your back was to Leander, and yet, though he made no sounds, you could sense him closing the distance behind you. It made the back of your neck break out in tingles and shivers. You could feel the heat from his bare chest at your back when you stood.

For a moment you didn't dare move, acutely aware of the imposing figure behind you. It made your skin zing.

Leander all but whispered your name into your ear. When you turned, somehow expecting danger, all he did was take your arm in his hands and move to inspect the cut you'd sustained.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked.

You swallowed in an attempt to ease the dryness at the back of your throat. "I - the guy, from before, he. . ."

For a moment you thought about lying. To ease his worries, to get this over with, to satiate some irrational fear that getting him angry would have dire consequences, who knew, but in the end you decided the truth would be best.

"They saw me with Ais. Wanted to teach me a lesson, I guess? They saw the bandages - I told them not to, I did - but they unwound them. When they saw my curse, they tried to - to cut off my arm, as a trophy."

You couldn't meet his eyes. It surprised even you how nonchalant you sounded. After all, this wasn't the first time someone had something like that; it wasn't even the worst you'd heard.

Suddenly Leander took you in his arms and pulled you into his chest, arms deftly securing you against him. You were shocked, to say the least, and rigid. Only when he rubbed your back and you'd gotten a chance to inhale his scent did you manage to relax.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner. I can't imagine what that must have been like. If I could, I'd never let out of my sight."

That would be impossible. You knew that, and yet, the sentiment alone was enough to force you into a moment of vulnerability.

Nestling into his skin should have been embarrassing, but he merely held you tighter when you did it.

"I think you can imagine." You said, muffled into his skin. He pulled away, fixing you with a look of confusion, head tilted in question, until he saw your eyes glancing at his scar.

"Oh, this?" He tried to brush off with a laugh. "Its really not that bad. I just-"

Leander stopped. When you looked at him, you saw that he'd begun staring off into space, unmoving except for the rapidly increasing rate of his breathing. His eyes didn't move even when you called his name. Then, they began to glow. At first you weren't sure, but now, without a doubt, you watched them brighten until they were as intense as candlelight. With one touch of your skin to his, he erupted into an explosions of movement.

His hand flew up to cover his nose and mouth and he turned away, creating space however he could. You tried to bring him back to face you, to help however you could, only for him to snatch his hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

Pain tore at your heart. "Leander? I don't understand? Did I do something-"

"No!" He interrupted, his face obscured by his hand and the hair falling over his eyes. "You didn't - just - you need. . ."

"Need to do what? Should I get someone?"

"No, no. I'll be fine. You need to leave, now."

Kicking you out of your own room? You'd never seen him act anywhere near as bad as this. It was such a turn that you didn't even think this was a way to somehow be rid of you. If it was, there'd be no way his pain and anguish would be this believable. His shoulder line rose and fell swiftly, like he was laboring every breath. He'd begun to shake violently, too. Despite his words, you didn't make ay attempt to leave. He'd done so much for you. How could you leave him in a clear state of distress?

Just as quickly as he regressed, Leander now settled into a calm stillness. The breathing and shaking disappeared entirely. Too calm. This was too calm. The hairs all over your body rose defensively. You backed away when he stood back up to his full height. Even if you wanted to leave, he was now between you and the door. No place to go, no way to bring back the caring soul that had left you behind.

Shakily, you ventured one word into the open air, realizing you were giving yourself up to the creature across from you. "Leander?"

[riotcat103]

im starving- i need more touchstarved fan fics/ headcannons

（ｉДｉ）

specially the g/n reader ones

keep me away rom those f!reader ones or anything that describes the reader/mc as someone whos feminine.. like no offense but you gotta keep the gays(ESPECIALLY ME) and non-bi's at the back well fed

am i right @coveexd

[adastra121]

So…how likely would Leander do that thing Zeus did, and trap you in his consciousness forever because he won’t let you go?