#me. suddenly possessed by leeches:

[ikilledamanforthisurl]

If there are 10 Minami fans I am one of them. If there is only one Minami fan it is me. If there are no Minami fans I have been killed, buried beyond the earth, my soul sent beyond hell, and I have been entirely retconned from life history and existence cosmically

[crowsandkisses]

De-polute me - Astarion x reader

Note: Astarion means a lot to me as a character and this is kinda based off of my own trauma because I see a lot of myself in him. I also haven't written in a minute so pardon any weird phrasing.

The reader is as vaguely described as I could manage so any and all can enjoy

cw: Trauma, vomit, panic attack.

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

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Astarion knew he had to snap out of it. To come back to the present where he lay with his lover. But he couldn’t.

It was like watching the world through water. Everything was the same but somehow not. Like there was a distance and the other side held a place where he couldn’t survive right now. Where the air would leave his lungs with no way of replenishing itself. That he would choke on what he was faced with.

He watched how you slept, chest slowly rising and falling in the dim light of the fire. Still in a state of undress.

His eyes lingered on the bite on your neck. Two little puncture marks that had been reopened by his fangs so often they’d started to scar.

It made his stomach twist and turn, bile rising up his throat as he zeroed in on these tiny wounds. 

He felt filthy for having left them there, even though you’d assured him time and again that it was alright. Sometimes you even enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t think of anything but how much of a parasite he was. 

Leeching off of your goodwill and kindness, repaying you with his body because it was the only way he knew how. To lie on his back, purr some pretty phrases and slot into that old, familiar role of seductive pretty boy.

He had to give something back. He had to. Otherwise you’d likely come to demand payment regardless. Everyone always did. No kindness was just done for the sake of being kind.

His stomach turned again as guilt set in, draping over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. He knew he shouldn’t think these things of you but he couldn’t help it. 

Quietly, he rose from his spot next to you. A place he didn’t feel should belong to him. Hells, he had seen the way Gale looked at you when he thought no one else paid attention. He could give the gentle kind of love Astarion felt incapable of.

He could grant you warmth Astarion didn’t possess. He could cook for you, share a meal, not have to leech off your body to keep himself alive.

Astarion walked a distance further into the treeline and all at once, his body lurched and his last meal found itself on the forest floor. He gagged and retched, tears flowing down his cheeks from discomfort and humiliation. 

His pride felt wounded as he emptied his stomach, spitting after to try and clear the sour, copper taste from his mouth. He still stood bent over, vision blurred with tears as he fought a sob.

Suddenly he felt like a child again, desperately longing for his mother, who’s face he’d all but forgotten. He let himself cry, granting himself the luxury of it. His shoulders shook, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip as all the negative thoughts filled his head like a storm. 

Then suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice taking him out of his head. He jerked up as if burned. He whirled around, furious he’d been caught unaware, without his knife. What if it was-

But whatever imagined horror he conjured up was nothing compared to the horror that the person who crept up on him was you.

His heart hammered against his ribs and he could hear his blood rush in his ears, vision going blurry at the edges. His breaths came stunted and he was only vaguely aware that you were speaking. But still, he felt like he was watching things through water, only this time he was drowning.

Like an animal fueled by instinct, he stepped back. He didn’t want you to touch him. For him to taint you further. He was trying to find words to say but the panic was too great.

For a moment, he thought he was about to die. That somehow, inexplicably, this would be the end of him. To die in a forest, in his own sick because he was caught in a moment of weakness .

A perfectly humiliating end to the life of a parasite of no consequence. A man who’d been so corrupt it nearly cost him his life only to be reduced to nothing but a pretty face and a willing cock. All to lead people into their untimely death, like the monster he was. A pretty face with a rotten core.

He didn’t realize he was saying these things aloud, nor that he was crying until your hand gingerly wiped his tears away. He flinched and he saw the heartbreak on your face, another twist of the dagger that had lodged itself into his chest. 

“Breathe.”

The one word cut through the fog in his head and somehow he willed himself to obey your gently spoken command. The first breath in was stunted, like a small child after a crying fit. But breathing was easy enough to do, a simple thing to focus on for just a moment as he found the hurt, humiliation and pain he felt.

In, out. In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Out

He calmed down slowly, his vision sharpening, his heart slowing down.

And there you stood, eyes trained on him with a look of concern in your eyes. 

His first instinct was anger. He already had a cutting remark on his tongue but he swallowed it. 

You were worried about him. You were just trying to help. 

“Are you okay?”

Astarion found himself bristling again at the comment, righting his back and pointing his chin, as if he had any pride left to hold onto. As if you didn’t just see him in the middle of a panic attack because god forbid you saw him as weak.

“I’m fine.” He lied, hating how unsteady his voice sounded. 

You looked at him in a way that let on you were the farthest thing from fooled and he didn’t want to give up the game. To tear himself open, cry into your arms like a small part of him wanted to.

Eventually, you nodded.

“Can I touch you?’

The simple question knocked the wind out of him. A simple ask of consent disarmed him fully and he wanted to loathe himself for it again but couldn’t. He was so tired.

“Please.” Came his reply. Soft and pained as he finally stopped fighting himself. 

You had barely embraced him when a new torrent of tears came. He buried his face in the junction of where your neck met your shoulder. A place he was intimately familiar with, but right now it wasn’t about sating his hunger. He felt your hand gently stroke his back as you comforted him.

Years of habit made him wonder when you’d use this against him but he did his best to ignore the thought. Instead focusing on the here and now. On the smell of your skin, how soft and warm you felt against him, of the sound of your voice as you told him he was alright. That you were there.

And for a moment, Astarion allowed himself to feel it.

To feel safe.

He felt the urge to be sick again.

Despite himself, he breathed deep like he had earlier, his crying slowing to a soft sniveling. He untangled himself from your embrace, your eyes still on him. He couldn’t bare to meet your gaze, clearing his throat as he studied the forest floor beneath your feet.

“Is there anything you need?” You asked and the question seemed a little absurd to him. He quietly shook his head.

“If it’s all the same to you, darling, I would like to go back to bed. And not speak of this again.”

His tone was a little harsh but you seemed to not take offense. You merely gave him the ghost of a smile.

“Come. I have a waterskin so you can rinse your mouth.” you said, half turning to the campsite. 

Astarion nodded. He wanted to say thank you but the words rested heavy on his tongue only for them to die there. 

In silence, the pair made their way back to the fire. With that frustratingly soft look on your face, you handed him your waterskin.

Astarion rinsed his mouth, relieved to no longer taste blood for a moment. He handed it back to you before quietly settling in so you could sleep and he could close his eyes for a moment.

Then tomorrow you could both pack up your things and move on to the next place. Kill what needed killing and pretend to be heroes.

“Would it be alright if I held you?”

Astarion looked up, surprised because despite himself, he was already getting back into his own head. He deflected it, as he usually did.

“Cannot get enough of me, darling?” The words, even if they were meant in jest, rang a little hollow. You gave him a look and he simply nodded, almost reluctantly settling in your arms.

He focused on the sound of your heartbeat, the rhythm of it lulling him into something close to comfort. He heard your breaths slow, sleep dragging you back into the land of dreams.

Astarion’s own eyes grew heavy as he settled against you, And for a moment, despite the fact the gods had never listened, he found himself thanking them for making someone like you.

Because even if he still had a long road to go, you made him feel a little less like a monster, and a little more like Astarion Ancunin.

[yantako]

Hello! Can i request yandere Malleus , Floyd and Kalim with an s/o who cant feel fear? (Its not that they are brave or anything its a real problem in their brain that they of course cannot fix)

Hi there! Thank you so much for the request!

I have definitely heard of this brain disorder before and honestly, it is really scary to think about it. Not sure if I'm doing it justice though, please forgive me if it doesn't sound like the condition! ><

Anyway, without further ado, let's begin!

Warning: Yandere and dubious elements.

Yandere with a S/O who can't feel fear

ft. Malleus, Floyd & Kalim

Malleus Draconia

• When you two first met, he was surprised that you smiled at him instead of being shocked or scared of him.

• However, because of such a reaction, he grows an interest in you for being so 'brave'.

• Everything would go well with his talks with you, getting to know you better and all, and slowly he started developing feelings for you.

• He'd always known you for being fearless about everything, even in the dangerous situations that you sometimes put yourself through from what he has heard from your stories.

• However, he started to feel curious about what your fearful face might look like and decided to play a small trick on you. Would maybe a giant dragon suffice in scaring you?

• When he saw your first reaction was lacking in fear, he'd try again with bigger and bigger moves. Malleus could feel his tiny smirk slowly distorting into a frown filled with worry and pain. It only became full-fledged anger at the point where it seems as if you didn't even care when the dragon was about to kill you [ of course, with you trapped with no room for escape ]. You didn't even seem remotely afraid as you tried to think of a way to combat this. However, when the situation is so bleak, you used your rational mind to think of the most painless way to go, and that is to tank the hardest hit in hopes of a one-shot KO.

• When you were about to be hit, Malleus immediately stopped the illusion and merely hugged you tightly. He had just wanted to see another side of you but ended up making himself feel like a disaster for putting you through that. He even had some thoughts if you would just give up your life so easily, why didn't you call him to help you?

• You felt pleasantly surprised that he was suddenly in front of you. Happy to see him, you gave him a smile, but also a knowing look when you realised what was going on just from his expression. It's about time you tell him about it.

• When he hears about your condition, his heart sunk.

• From then on, he has you kept by him the entire time. He had a mindset that if you can't feel fear, you won't know your dangers. It only made him more fearful for you.

• He becomes a lot more possessive over you and warier of the people around you, going so far as to cast spells on you without your knowledge.

• He becomes way more protective each time you get injured, on the basis that you cant feel fear even if you explained to him multiple times that you do know your dangers.

• He would do anything to keep you protected at all costs.

Floyd Leech

• Shrimpy! Aren't you scared of me?

• You just witness him punching a bloody student in a secluded area in school. Of course, you did stare for a while and wanted to leave as you presumed this to be troublesome and dangerous for you if you remained.

• However, this tall eel immediately noticed you and dropped the student he was holding. His eyes glinted as if he saw a brand-new toy being served up to him.

• He peered down at you threateningly after cornering you at a wall. However, even as he did that, you didn't show as big of a reaction as he wanted to see. Weren't you supposed to be squirming under him like a worm? Hey, why are you looking away when he's glaring at you!

• At first he thought it was very boring that you gave him such a lukewarm reaction, but when he figured that you were trying to find a way to escape calmly, his curiosity peaked again. He understood that normal people would be in a state of panic and give him their fullest attention in case he would hit them, however, he didn't feel any sense of fear from you but rather, a very cold way of ignoring him.

• With his interests piqued, he decided to let you go after attempting to scare you with his threats. He found it amazing that you showed no signs of fear in such a situation and decided to make his next days fun in school by harassing you.

• He continuously placed you in dangerous situations, even to the point of near-death situations, to simply observe and find entertainment. Well, that is until you actually got a near-death experience which scared the fuck outta him.

• Looking at your pale and weak figure lying in the infirmary, he thought about how much danger he had put you through. Regrets came washing over him. Initially, he thought it was fun and entertaining to watch your fearless gait. But now, he could hear alarms ringing in his head whenever he thinks you are in danger. In some magical and mysterious manner, somehow, he became smitten for you.

• Ever since then after you recovered, Floyd seemed to have a flipped his treatment of you. He would protect you fiercely from even the smallest threats, growling and even resorting to violence even at small teasings people do to you.

• He finally felt as if he had something he needed to do, something motivating him. He had to protect you even if he had to resort to violence and intimidation. He finally got a spark in his heart and he would do his all to protect this spark. Finally, something he could not get bored of. If you aren't scared by his actions, that means you allowed him to do so, right?

• Shrimpy ignited something in him, so you better accept it, okay?

Kalim Al Asim

• Hm? He doesn't understand it. What do you mean you can't feel fear?

• Even after explaining it to him, he still does not understand it.

• That is, until you were kidnapped because of him. When he found you all battered up but yet lighting up when you see him. He had questioned you all the essentials. Why didn't you scream? Why didn't you call for help? Why do you still look so... okay about this situation?

• You chuckled as you joke. "At least I wasn't killed or hit so badly."

• Kalim stared at you for awhile before getting reminded of what you had told him before.

• Ever since then, he decided to take your safety into his own hands, having bodyguards around you and even giving you your own aide so that you could be protected. He just wanted to keep you safe, so please allow this of him, alright?

• Privacy? Is that more important than your safety, darling?

[edajcheel]

TW: Yandere.

Imagine this, you're just an average student in night Raven College. You blend in very well with all the idiots and high-mighty men, thus, being a background character.

But suddenly, a person by the name of "yuu" comes and asks you for help for one of their assignments, you sit next to them and share multiple classes with them.

Soon, you began hanging around this person and grow a friendship with them.

But you always feel eyes behind you, piercing into your back as if you were prey.

After you finished your lunch with Yuu, and go your separate ways. You get cornered in a hallway that's clear of all students.

The infamous brothers, the leech twins, corner you from behind and front, no where to escape.

"Heyyyy small fry, do you have a deathwish?" Floyd Leech, the more aggressive twin pipes up.

"Oh, don't be harsh Floyd. We have yet to question them."

Seems like they have a unhealthy obsession with your newfound friend, Yuu, is what you figured out. They were planning to dump your corpse somewhere, and get rid of you for talking to their "Angelfish"

But you somehow came up with a good reason that let you live... "Uhh.. hey, I can bring you undiscovered information about Yuu if you let me live.." You quietly mumbled out.

Both of the twins looked at each other, seemingly sharing unintelligible words and emotions that you can't seem to decipher.

"We will accept your offer on that, but on one condition, you will not touch them nor handle them in any such way." Jade leech, the more "calmer" of both the twins said.

Although... You wouldn't call that calm.. more like he's just trying to hide his feelings of aggression towards you. He could snap your neck in any second if you so much as make the wrong move.

So it began, you being the "spy" for the twins. Trying to scope specific information from Yuu was hard. Personal information. It really seems like they aren't even THEIR own person. More like they just follow a script on what they like and do.

"what's your favorite color?"

"hmm.. I like all colors!"

"What's your favorite food?"

"it's hard to pick, everything tastes great to me."

You went back and forth to the twins, telling them the information you gathered till this day. You've seen and know how they react to most things, they're obsessive, cunning, possessive people that you don't want to mess with. Being with them, suffocated you a lot. You had to make sure not to get on their bad side, or do anything rash.

You avoid the touch of Yuu as much as you can. You avoid talking to them about other topics except for the topics that the twins tell you to speak about. But for crying out loud, whenever Yuu sights you out from the crowd, you can see them full speeding towards you. Can't you get any rest from this place?

You take safety measures and always find a way to escape from Yuu's grasp.

You really don't understand what your relationship has come to with the twins. Soon, all three of you begin hanging around at Mostro Lounge. In addition, you give them good information about Yuu while they sneak you free drinks. A win win. Their drinks are over expensive anyways, so it greatly benefits you.

You just hope that their house warden, Azul Ashengrotto, doesn't find out. Or you'll be in a deeper hole than you already are.

As the three of you hang out more, gradually growing loose with each other, even asking them for help with homework. You soon see yourself smiling in their presence, actually having fun. You don't know what their thought process was with this sudden change, but they dont seem to mind much.

They call you in for another small meeting, probably telling you what topic to cover with Yuu.

"Alright! What's my next mission impossible?"

Jade shows his infamous "gentleman" smile as he softly places his hand to his chest "We desire to see what you've been up to lately."

You quirk your brow in confusion. "Eh? What do you mean by that?"

"You're sooo slow guppy! It's not that complicated, we want to know what you've been doing these past days!"

Ah shit. Do they think you're plotting behind their back? You really thought that you gained their favor, and maybe became actual friends. Seems like they still don't see you as anything other than their information giver.

"I haven't been doing anything with Yuu, if that's what your speculating..." You address them calmly and seriously. Making sure that you sound convincing.

"No, you've misunderstood. That question is purely for you, Y/n." Jade's hand was boldly placed on the side of your face, as if to caress it. "You know, guppy, we've been bored lately.." Floyd shows his jaggered teeth, resembling a sharks.

They both grin. Floyd donning a smirk, while Jade's sharp teeth was out in display.

"We've grown interest in you, dearest Y/n."

"More than we've grown interest in Shrimpy.. theyve been boring these past few days..."

ANNNNNNDDD THATS WHEN YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH TWO YANDERE FUCKERS, THE DAMN LEECH BROTHERS, EVERYDAY IN YOUR LIFE!!! GOOD LUCK!! Cause they won't be hiding their affections and obsessive love towards you like they did with Yuu. Well, at least you have two tall, handsome bodyguards right? Not just one, but two. This was longer than I expected it to be..

This was inspired by the manhwa, I Love Amy, go check it out! It's 5 stars!

[galaxyshine24-7]

Hi hi :)

I love ur twst silver bullet au and I read the one about yuu dancing with their old friend and was wondering if you'd ever write about the characters confronting/asking yuu about it while at the bar? I wanna know how you think things will go down if that's no too much trouble

I hope you have a great day/night!

Thank you I'm glade you enjoyed it. I'd be happy to do your request and can imagine how the twst boys would approach Yuu after everything, it's sure to be a good show.

Confrontation Silver Bullet AU🥃

The aftermath of this previous fic

TW: Possessive behavior, Stalking, Gang Activity

It was a slow day at the bar as Yuu yawned leaning against the bar. It's been a few weeks since seeing their old friend, and after that, everything went back to normal. Well almost everything, the gangs that usually frequent their bar have been absent. The bartender chalked it up to them being busy, but something in the back of their head told them it was more than that. Well, they can't do much about it now they have a bar to run.

With a sigh, they get up suddenly hearing the bell at the entrance of their establishment. Yuu puts on their best customer service smile as the face the door.

"Welcome to the Silver Bullet how can-"

"Yuu!" Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, and Sebek come bursting through the door.

"Oh my sevens what!?" Yuu yells back. The sudden noise causes Grim to hide under a nearby table from his napping spot as the boys tumble over to the bar.

"What were you thinking?!"

"Are you okay?!"

"Who was that you where dancing with?!"

"Do you know how much trouble you're in with the others?!"

"HOW COULD YOU NOT INVITE WAKA SAMA TO THE DANCE?!"

They all screamed causing Yuu to cover their ears.

"Woah slow down, one at a damn time! what the fuck is going on?!" Yuu yells slamming their hands on the counter.

The five of them calm down as silence falls over the bar. Yuu rubs their temple taking a deep breath.

"Now tell me what happened, one at a time." Yuu places a hand on their hip looking at the boys in front of her.

"You mean you don't know?" Jack raises a brow.

"I don't know anything." Yuu shrugs.

The boys look at each other as Deuce fishes out his phone from his pocket. He clicks on the video sent from Cater and shows it to Yuu. It's the video of Yuu dancing with their old childhood friend. Yuu grabs his phone staring with wide eyes not knowing what to say. Yuu watches till the end handing the phone back to Deuce as they take a moment to think.

"H-how did you get this?" Yuu tries their best to hold in their anger. It's likely not their fault, so they shouldn't go off on them.

"It's been passed around many of the gangs around here, nearly everyone has seen it." Ace rubs the back of his neck.

"Everyone..." Oh no. Yuu couldn't even finish their thought as the bell chimes from the entrance.

"Yuu what a pleasure it is to see Yuu." Azul sings from the doorway along with the Leech twins at his sides.

The rest of the gang leaders and members filter into the shop some giving Yuu a small wave. Azul snaps his fingers and Jade goes to lock the bar door, and Floyd flips the sign from open to close.

"Ace, Deuce what are you doing here?" Riddle steps closer to the bar.

"Oh, we're just saying hi to Yuu right guys." Ace leans against the bar looking over at his friends as they all start to nod their heads.

"Yeah, we're just passing by," Epel smiles.

"Oh really Epel, I thought I specially told you to practice your skin routines this morning and yet here you are skin dry and flaky." Vil opens his fan showing the displeasure in his eyes.

Epel gulps looking down at the floor.

Yuu places a hand on their hips giving a unamused look at the group before them.

"Okay, what is it that you want?" Yuu gestures to gang leaders.

"It has come to our attention that we haven't laid out the rules with you." Riddle speaks up swinging his Spector.

"Rules?" Yuu raises a brow crossing their arms.

"Yes, it seems you have been around some unsavory characters and since we are business partners we wanted to express our concerns along with giving some advice." Azul clears his throat.

"And what advice would that be?" Yuu asks.

"Don't hang around people we don't want you to." Leona leans back on a chair putting his feet on the table.

"Excuse me?!" Yuu raises their voice causing the others to jump a bit.

"No need to get upset dear, it will cause wrinkles." Vil cuts in.

"We saw you dancing with someone Shrimpy." Floyd comes up to the counter to rest on it giving Yuu his crazed stare.

"You two seemed awful close." Jade chuckles.

"We just wanted to know who they are is all." Azul tries to wave away the tension.

"That's none of your business." Yuu states plainly.

"No reason to get upset Child of man." Malleus finally speaks up from his spot in the shadows.

"Yes, I do have reason to be upset. I was clearly stalked, and then you all of the nerve to tell me who I can hang out with in my own time." Yuu's voice starts to get higher with every word.

"Dear Trickster please do not be to upset." Rook speaks up.

"Quiet Rook, it was probably you who took the video!" Yuu snaps back.

Rook shuts his mouth at that, the man is quiet for the first time since they met.

"Now, Now let's calm down." Trey tries to ease the tension.

"No all of you get out!"

The bar goes silent all eyes fall on Yuu.

"Yuu come on don't be mad." Cater tries to soothe the angry bartender.

"You all dare come in here and treat me like a child. I'm an adult I can do what I want and see who I want. So long as it doesn't bother your meetings you shouldn't be in my business. You don't own me okay?" Yuu states. "Now thank you all for being so concerned, but I will be taking a little break as of today." Yuu puts on a fake smile.

"Chill out it's not that serious your totally freaking out over nothing." Idia's floating tablet mumbles.

"What was that Idia, care to speak up?" Yuu glares at the tablet.

"N-no..."

"Good, now all of you get out." Yuu.

"Ha and if we don't?" Leona teases.

"Well since you can't respect me then I see no reason to continue this deal we have.

"You don't mean that right Yuu?" Kalim looks around the room in concern.

"Oh, I mean it. It seems you all need me a lot me then I need you." Yuu can see a flash of hurt behind some of their eyes, but their blood is boiling too much to feel sorry right now.

Not wanting to anger the bartender any further all the boys leave the bar. Once it's cleared Yuu switches the sign to closed not opening the bar for a few days until they can calm down.

[hisui-dreamer]

wouldn't mind

Pairing: Floyd Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: Floyd hated monotony, but you always seemed to bring him a spark of excitement

Tags: fluff, drabble, Floyd calls you shrimpy, reader can bake, bot proofread

Word count: 924

Notes: Floyd brainrot overtook me, so here's a fic inspired by the song I Wouldn't Mind by He is We. This fic can be read as a sister fic to this, bc they both explore how I view the Leech twins in love hehe

Masterlist

Strolling down the dimly lit corridor, Floyd's mind meandered to find anything interesting in sight. He noticed the lanterns hanging above him casting eerie shadows on the walls, the scuffed floor tiles beneath his feet, the distant echoes of chatter in the hallways.

Yet, it all seemed so mundane.

His tendency to get bored easily was like a flame flickering in the wind, dancing erratically from one distraction to another. Just as quickly as his interest was ignited, it could be snuffed out, leaving him searching for the next flicker to capture his attention. Like a fleeting gust of wind, Floyd's enthusiasm could be intense and exhilarating, but just as quickly as it came, it could dissipate, leaving him restless and yearning for more intrigue.

However, amidst the dull surroundings, there was one person who consistently held Floyd's interest—his beloved Shrimpy. You were his treasure, the rare gem he had stumbled upon, and yet held his fascination. He had a propensity to cling to you, afraid of losing the one thing that made his world feel alive. He would get jealous easily, his mood swinging from adoration to possessiveness in the blink of an eye. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone taking you away from him, his possessiveness like a whirlpool in the stormy sea, pulling you closer to him, refusing to let you drift away.

But despite his possessiveness, Floyd's love for you was also tender and sincere. Like a fragile flower, he would shower you with affection, nurturing your relationship with care. He would hold you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and cherishing every moment spent with you. Your presence was like a magnet, pulling him towards you with an irresistible force. He couldn't shake the memory of your smile, the way you made him feel alive even in the most ordinary moments. Your laughter echoed in his ears, and the warmth of your touch lingered on his skin. You were the one thing that never lost its shine, the one person who could hold his attention for more than just a fleeting moment.

With a sudden change in mood, Floyd's steps quickened, his heart pounding in anticipation as the need to see you consumed him. As he turned the corner, he caught sight of you and a wide grin spread across his face. His heart skipped a beat, and his mood instantly shifted from agitation to excitement as he rushed towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace, unable to hold back his overwhelming emotions. He revelled in your presence, his senses filled with the familiar scent that comforted him like nothing else.

"Shrimpy~ I missed you," Floyd said in his usual laid-back manner, though his voice carried a hint of enthusiasm that he couldn't hide. He ran a hand through his messy hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your gaze, yet unable to wipe the wide grin off his face. "What are you up to?"

You smiled gently, your eyes lighting up in response to Floyd's affectionate greeting. Just the sight of you happy to see him sent a surge of happiness through him, and he felt a sense of comfort and belonging wash over him. "Just heading to the kitchen to grab a snack," you replied, closing the distance between you. "What about you?"

Floyd shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the butterflies in his stomach betrayed his true emotions. "I dunno, I'm bored," he pouted, knowing that you would understand him, as you always did.

You chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately, a gesture that never failed to make Floyd's heart swell with love as he leaned into your touch. "Well, maybe I can help with that," you said playfully, knowing just how to lift his spirits. "I’m planning to bake some cookies. Care to join me?"

Floyd's eyes lit up at the mention of your cookies, and he couldn't resist the temptation. "Aha~ You’re the best Shrimpy! Let's go!" he laughed, feeling a renewed sense of fervour bubbling up inside him.

Floyd's hand tugged eagerly at yours as you walked towards the kitchen together. The mere prospect of spending time with you had a way of lighting up his world, infusing even the most unremarkable moments with a sense of magic. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning—he didn't find the thought of spending the rest of his life with you boring at all. In fact, it felt right, like an enticing adventure he was excited to embark on.

Compelled by the sudden burst of energy, Floyd pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let go. He took a deep breath, and in a rare moment of raw sincerity, he whispered, "Ya know what? I wouldn't mind spendin’ the rest of my life squeezin’ ya."

You blinked at him, taken aback by his words. Reaching out to squeeze his hand, you looked firmly into his eyes. "I wouldn't mind that either," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

He broke into a wide grin, unable to contain his excitement. "Shrimpy~ I love you!" he exclaimed as he planted a sweet peck on your forehead. "Now, let's go! I wanna eat!" he beamed, his mood shifting once again.

Floyd Leech was a paradox, a mix of excitement and uncertainty, of intensity and insecurity. His love was a rollercoaster that left you breathless, but also made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Masterlist

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[yunarim]

╰┈➤ summary : you and your reliable partner grim are the most famous interdimensional travelers under the Official Isekai Association. you're used to traveling into psychological thrillers and horrors. however, this time something goes wrong, and you suddenly turn into the protagonist of… an otome game?!

— characters : jade leech, leona kingscholar | kalim al-asim, azul ashengrotto | lilia vanrouge, idia shroud

⌞tags⌝ : gn reader, fluff at times, occasional angst, typical manhwas tropes, mention of a typical isekai manhwa death by truck hit... yeah, you go from the first route to the last (from jade to idia), hence the parts are connected — w.c. : 4.6k+

⌞notes⌝ : i've been reading too much isekai mangas/manhwas lately and here we go lmao. also forgive me for not writing for so long, i've been experiencing a huge burnout ;; i originally intended to write for dorm leaders but then gave it a second thought and came up with another plan hhhhhh i hope i'll manage to finish other chapters on time but pls be patient with me, i'm preoccupied with too much work lately ��😭

You sigh and stretch out your hand, looking at it while lying on the bed, and wonder, how in the dimension did you manage to land in an otome game realm. You heard your colleagues complaining how annoying those can be, not to mention many of you forgot about romantic relationships long long ago—when you probably got hit by a truck in your original world?—and to think you somehow appeared in a world which didn’t belong to your department. 

Your specialization was horror and psychological thriller stories, and even if you possess no magic (which is strange, given after transmigrating for so many times, you don’t remember getting magic abilities at least for once, but whatever), you’ve got an excellent, strategic mastermind. And if something dangerous happens, you have your partner and friend, Grim.

“It’s been a while since we’ve isekaed into a high school setting,” you say to yourself, system windows appearing before your eyes. 

“Main goal: TO GET A HAPPY ENDING WITH *name*!!”

Ah really…

You set a reminder and throw a quick glance at already fallen asleep Grim before going to sleep yourself. If you can’t escape the world until you complete it, then so be it.

“Event: TO BECOME A SCHOOL COUNCIL PRESIDENT: success!!”

One mention of a school student council you’ve encountered in many worlds (though possessing not really sweet memories of dealing with many psychological intrigues and schemes), and the local headmaster named Crowley happened to be fairly overjoyed and excited to proclaim you as a council’s president, much to everyone’s indifference chagrin. 

You were quite surprised to realize that the school that large didn’t invent such a common structure. On the second note, it was easy for you to operate and deal with information provided through leading the council. Much to your chagrin this time, you needed to pick a route to escape this world.

It was an otome game. You couldn’t care less at first, assuming you and Grim landed in another horror, however a fantasy atmosphere lingering everywhere made you two slightly confused. And the conclusion was made right after you saw heart-shaped indicators above six people’s heads. 

“Do you remember what our colleagues told us about otome games?..” You asked Grim, sitting in the auditorium that Crowley assigned as the Council’s room. 

“Nah,” Grim yawned. “Not my field.”

“As if it’s mine,” you frowned. “What, not even MC’s words? She ended up transmigrating into a closed apartament and had only 11 days to get an ending…”

“Come to think of it, we have 11 days till the festival.”

You raised your head, turning to the voice’s source, and slightly parted your lips. 

“Jade,” you said, standing up. “Good afternoon.”

Jade Leech, to be more precise. You’ve scanned through his profile when you first interacted with him two weeks ago when you ended up transmigrating here in Twisted Wonderland. As expected of a fantasy world, he wasn’t a normal human being, but belonged to merfolk. You don’t remember having much experience with them, and maybe picking him as your first route wasn’t exactly your best choice.

“Good luck on surviving the event,” Grim said, jumping off the chair he was sitting on, and headed to the exit.

“Ah,” Jade’s feigned surprise made you blink at him questionably. “How unfortunate, you’re supposed to help us with the preparations, Grim-san.”

You saw a system window popping up above your head as a reminder of not forgetting your main goal, and sighed.

“Not this kind of event he meant…” You mumbled, knowing exactly well that Jade heard you. 

“How about we discuss the budget, Yuu-san?” Leech took a seat beside you, to which you nodded. 

Appointed as a council’s treasurer, Jade actually managed his sources with an outstanding performance. Since you had no experience in entering otome realms, it was quite hard for you to predict what was going to happen next. Your fellow transmigrators you barely saw in the interdimensional space used to exchange their thoughts on their journeys before traveling to the next world, and somehow you, who witnessed a ton of horror stories, possessed psyche of a solidity, while otome novels and games travelers happened to be constantly overworked and heavily damaged in terms of their minds.

You never asked why. They’ve mentioned the necessity to go through an endless amount of routes and paths, to make people fall in love with them, and then leave them behind in their worlds. You also heard the system was erasing their memories, so they would live happily after experiencing love and joy of being loved, but the system never really cared about the travelers themselves. 

The department you were assigned to provided you with a psychotherapists’ help if needed after coming back to the office, so you would heal after experiencing terrible things and emotional drainings, but your and Grim’s emotional state has never reached the point of damaged position. 

Some of your colleagues even stated that you were emotionless and—

“Yuu-san?” you found Jade leaning closer to you, his face showing slight hints of a false worry made of politeness. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I am sorry. Let’s continue.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” Leech stood up and came to the bar counter of the Mostro Lounge you’ve been occupying for the council discussions regarding the upcoming festival. 

“You don’t seem like the type to be honest with people,” you let the conclusion slip of your tongue before meeting his gaze you couldn’t decipher. 

“Then would you like to consider this an observation? A remark of sorts.”

“Alright then.”

“Sometimes it’s quite peculiar how you’re so composed and calm for a magicless person who got here in a school of magic,” a majestic coffee aroma filled the room. “Not to mention we’re fairly… uncommon individuals here.”

“You seem quite normal to me,” you answer emotionlessly, closing your eyes. “But you can say my opinion of what ‘normal’ is may differ from others. Yours, too.”

“Then I would be really willing to know how exactly.”

His voice suddenly appeared really close to your ear, but you didn't even raise an eyebrow, accepting a coffee cup from his elegant hands and looked at him.

Normally you wouldn’t want to have people interfering in your business, but a heart-shaped vitreous icon with a pink liquid in it made you widen your eyes in surprise. 

There was no liquid in it before. 

Now that you think about it, yes, your colleagues said there were indicators showing your progress, and apparently you really made it further, somehow managing to get Jade interested in you more than he was. 

“You’ve seemed to be spacing out a lot lately, Yuu-san.”

“Now that the festival is almost here, I guess I’m slightly nervous.”

“You don’t seem to be the type to get nervous so easily.”

You suddenly chuckle with a light grin on your face at his reversed pun and sip a coffee he brewed.

“It’s brilliant,” you compliment his work, staring straight at his mismatched eyes and seeing something in there. “May I ask you to brew this exclusively for me when the festival comes? In order to celebrate our successful and thoughtful work.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure.”

You had no idea about how romance works, but you did know you needed to get on Jade’s route as quickly as you could and come back to the office immediately. You wanted to get the detailed information about how you ended up transmigrating into an otome game, so now, sitting in the library and reading mycology books, you hoped to find something useful.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, summoning your transmigrator’s interface and taking a screenshot of a book page containing a mushroom’s drawing. “This is it!”

A mushroom which could be served as a component of a firework supplement, making it iridescent in rainbow colors right in the sky, which also was overflowing when put in soil. You found yourself smiling at the thought of Jade’s reaction, and headed to the mountain near the school.

Unfortunately, you’ve spent all the transmigrator currency you’ve earned during the previous isekai on preparations to the festival, thus you couldn’t afford any equipment for climbing. Well, even if something happens, you still have the system to save your progress, so you could reload and try again. Thinking about the demerits you could get for being not careful and damaging your body made you cringe, though.

You've reached the mountain, and a deep dark forest loomed before your eyes, a cold and moistened fog made you shiver in displeasure. How unfortunate that such a beautiful colorful mushroom grew in such an obscure place.

You made your way further, checking the map with the system tools, and took one more step to darkness. A small iridescent light on the ground made you rash towards it, and you grabbed the mushroom you were looking for.

“Here you are!” You smiled, grabbing more of them, but…

A sudden feeling of ground slipping under your feet made you scream in horror and turn off all the system signs, alerting you about the danger you’ve encountered. 

Who knew there was a cliff?! 

You tried to grab onto the branches of the occasionally falling trees to slow down your uncontrolled flight, but they were more likely to do more harm than good. You somehow felt someone’s gaze on you, but there was no time to think it thoroughly. You were ready to collapse on the damp ground, but a sudden prehensile grip prevented your fall, and you opened your eyes in a daze.

“Are you alright?!”

You could promise a genuine—this time—worry slid over Jade’s confused face, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. You took a look at his grip and wondered if he’s going to let you go, but at your gaze he instead tightened it, holding you even closer.

“What were you thinking, going to the forest unequipped…”

“Don’t worry,” you’ve tried reassuring him, but receiving only a frown. “I would have survived.”

“Falling from this height?” He asked, his voice raising slightly. 

“”... I believe you’re not the type to worry about others,” you mumble.

“What made you think I was worried?” He chuckled, still not letting you go. “Would have been troublesome if you died on the school grounds.” 

“No,” you answered with a suspicious calmness you’d better hide. “You’re worried. Your pupils tremble.” 

“... Let this be at least in theory,” he sighed. “But what made you come here?”

“Oh,” you sigh and finally unclench your scratched fists and hand over only one mushroom you’ve managed to preserve. “Here. I wanted to give you this mushroom. It’s iridescent and can be used for— Huh?”

Jade chuckled, looking into the sky which suddenly shone pretty bright with glimmering stars, and sighed heavily, finally letting you go of his grip, but holding your shoulders nevertheless, obviously scared of you falling. 

“So you did this for me.”

“Yes, I did, but what… Ah.”

You looked up at his head where the heart icon was, seeing the liquid feeling almost to the top, and gasped. 

So he was genuinely worried.

“It seems you’ve realized something,” he said, fixing a strand of your hair and smiling rather wearily. “I’ve never thought you’re the type to risk your life for getting gifts, Yuu-san. Especially for me, given how actually twisted I am.”

You found yourself giggling softly at his remark.

“I’m the twisted type myself. I believe.”

When the festival came, you thought you wouldn't be able to see Jade due to how busy you two were.

He was busy with calculations, and also constantly disappeared in the kitchen due to the insufficient number of workers, but somehow everything went smoothly.

You were greeting the guests by showing them the area and were up all day long actually dreaming of laying down, while Grim helped with the special effects on stage spraying his blue flames along with the rest of the guys.

Finally, it was time for the fireworks show, and you, making sure everything was under control and the visitors were enjoying the show, went to the roof of the school, dreaming of relaxing on the bench alone.

Being in an otome was tiring you out more than you thought it would, and you laughed at how you presumed you would just allure the love interests and get back home. 

You grew to genuinely like Jade maybe not as a love interest, but maybe even someone closer than a character of another world. 

“Resting here all alone?” 

A familiar voice was heard, but you didn’t dare to look, continuing keeping your gaze fixed on the night sky, knowing exactly well who came.

“Ashengrotto has finally freed you from the kitchen?”

“You could say so, even though Leona-san asked for an extra meat dish I’ve created yesterday…”

“Is that so…” You smiled as Jade sat right next to you, lying on the bench. “The fireworks show is going to start soon, right?”

“Not just soon,” he chuckled. “Right now.”

There were loud bangs just after a thin thread of light pierced the night sky and burst into a bouquet of multicolored lights that shimmered in rainbow colors right under the stars, and you released a smile from your lips, surprised at your sincere joy.

“It’s beautiful.”

Jade silently watched the show with you and then bent over your face, covering the view of a clear night sky when the show was over. An unfamiliar expression on his face made you blink in surprise. 

“It is beautiful, indeed.”

“Somehow I feel you’re not talking about fireworks?..” You questioned, chuckling, and gasped the second after.

The heart icon was fully filled, a bright pink light radiating from it and covering Jade’s cheeks with a slight pink hue. Or wasn’t it an icon?..

“You know, Yuu-san,” Jade smiled. “You were right when you said I’m not the honest type, but right at this moment, let me tell you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he said. “I’ll treasure it. And also… you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say something, stretching your hand and touching his cheek, cold because of a night breeze and maybe just because he was always naturally like that, and dared to cover his eyes with your hand. 

“Thank you for appearing in my life. I’ll treasure you too.”

And with that his soft chuckle dissolved in a bright light and system notifications, congratulating you with getting a happy ending.

Happy ending, starting again in your room with a piercing pain in your heart.

“Ah…” You said, seeing Grim sleep peacefully next to you. “So that is why they said otome games are hard to escape.”

Shit, you thought, waking up the next morning. 

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really necessary for you to fall in love with the love interest (it was enough just to open up to him?), and weren’t sure if Jade really grew to like you. 

But you definitely came to a realization that it was painful to see him in the hall, talking to his brother and noticing you, nodding in a greeting way with a familiar feigned politeness, a glimpse of warmth, which appeared in your previous walkthrough, was no longer lingering underneath his eyes. 

You found yourself wanting to taste a coffee he brewed for you exclusively, but he was no longer here by your side, his profile image became gray, and a ‘COMPLETED’ line appeared in capital letters in the system interface. 

Was that it? All the feelings both of you developed turned into a finished story without any chance for rereading it? Otome games were unfair. But transmigrating still was your main job you couldn’t decline, and even in thrillers and horrors you used to enter so often there were people who you genuinely liked and treasured.

Still, you knew that once the story ended, you got back into the office and traveled to another world, then another, and another, and… There was no point in developing feelings anymore.

You chuckled to yourself when Jade passed through you, and raised your head, meeting someone else’s intense gaze.

Leona Kingscholar. The system made a melodious sound, letting you know about your next ‘target’. You quickly checked his profile, appearing right before standing in front of you Leona, and wondered, what type of a character he would be. 

Slightly older than his classmates, and he also belonged to royalty, how very interesting. You closed the system interface with a snap of fingers and greeted your next… target.

“Good morning. May I help you… Eh?”

Leona approached you, his face suddenly extremely close to yours, and sniffed your neck, then clavicles and stared at your eyes, allowing you to notice how beautifully the emeralds of his were shining.

“What a strange smell.”

“Excuse me, I took a shower in the morning.”

“Not that,” Leona sighed, a heart above his head being absolutely empty and transparent. “The smell, not of magic, but similar. Also like that fish guy.”

“Fish guy?..”

He was probably speaking about Jade, but how in the world did he manage to sniff that?! Your eyes widened in shock for a brief moment. 

“If you’re talking about Ja… Leech, then maybe it’s because hu just was there.”

“Whatever,” Leona shrugged, sniffing you once more, to which you attempted to distant yourself. “There’s also a dirt smell. And also raining, alcohol, hospital… A blood? What the hell, herbivore?”

Now this wasn’t funny at all. The last world you’ve transmigrated into was centered around a story about doctors, crimes and, well, the usual horror stuff you had to deal with, and how did Leona manage to casually sniff it on you like that?

Naturally, you wanted to get rid of any suspicions and shrug it off, but you also needed to get him on your side and find a way to reach a happy ending with him. A slight fearful thought of collecting people’s hearts like some sort of a hobby slid through your mind, making you nauseous, but you swallowed the feeling and forced a cheeky smile.

“Care to figure it out?”

Leona looked at you with an unreadable emotion and made his way to the exit, leaving you all confused.

“It’s not my business, herbivore. But do something about this smell, it’s disgusting, Savanaclaw students are really sensitive to the smell this strong.”

“As if I can just wash it away…” You mumbled to yourself, following Leona’s distancing figure with your gaze and parting your lips in a surprise way when noticing a little amount of pink liquid in the heart above his head.

So you did pique his interest, after all.

The progress with Leona’s route was incredibly slow and strange. You took the sequence the system suggested automatically, providing you with calculations regarding the difficulty on each walkthrough, and at first you blinked questionably at Leona’s one, seeing only 40%, since now you’ve been feeling all 100%. 

He wasn’t hard to find — the botanical garden was his second alma mater, and yet when his words he said to you the first day of his route lingered in your mind, ‘It’s not my business’ line repeating in your head like an annoying pop song, you almost thought that it really was not his problem at all, as if he totally didn’t care.

You almost convinced yourself, but small steps you took towards him also helped you in discovering concealed aspects of his character.

At first you visited the botanical garden just out of a habit you’ve managed to form in other isekais, and ended up finding Leona there without fail every time. At first you were silent, observing him and his unwavering composure—you thought of that as indifference—but not so long after you took the first attempt to start a casual conversation.

“Leona,” you once said, seeing him sleeping under the tree and knowing he heard you talking. “Do I still, uhm, reek?..”

“I sense the strong smell of that fish guy.” 

How in the world did Jade’s lingering scent still remain on you?

“And also that bat.”

“Bat?” You asked, wondering who he meant. 

“Lilia Vanrouge.”

You knitted your brows together at his reply. You saw Vanrouge only once, right before Leona came into the garden one day, and briefly talked to him. Lilia was also listed among your potential ‘love interests’, but a 100% difficulty level was confusing to you, and the one talk you had did really confirm that he’s going to be a tough character to deal with. To make him fall in love with?..

“I see… I wonder how it works for you beastmen, your sense of smell.”

“Like a second skin,” Leona opened one eye and glanced your way. “I don’t get how you humans live with such a short range of smell.”

“I think that’s only about you,” you suddenly said, meeting Leona’s gaze. “No one from Savanaclaw other than you mentioned what I smell like.” 

A short pause stretched between you two, but somehow you didn’t find it unpleasant, more like relaxing and thoughtful. Kingscholar chuckled, tapping on the spot beside him with his tail and attracting your attention.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

You did as he said, wondering what was that about, and ended up being held in his arms. He sniffed you once again, but with more care and politeness than he did the first time, while you couldn’t tear away your fixated gaze on his bright focused eyes.

“Those strange scents are still on you. What kind of life did you live before getting here, herbivore…”

“And you said it’s not your business, huh,” you grinned and gasped the second after he suddenly laid on your lap. “Hey!”

“It’s still not my business though.” He answered, closing his eyes and resting comfortably. “But don’t get near other Savanaclaws. It’s really a disgusting smell.”

“Which is why you’re on my lap, am I being correct?” You chuckled. “Still, I don’t think others have the audacity to come near me. Or such a strong sense of smell like you do. You’re impressive, Leona.”

For a moment you thought he stopped breathing, but then heard a bitter laugh coming from his lips.

“One day you’ll take your words back.”

Till today you really wondered what he meant by that, seeing no particular reason to actually question his skills. Even despite his poor attendance and self-deprecating lines, he really was an amazing, outstandingly clever person you really did want to get to know more.

And today an occasion came up, when you visited the botanical garden again, now it was more out of a habit, and found Leona with the first-year students you didn’t know, challenging him in chess. 

“Good afternoon everyone,” you greeted them, hearing excited ‘hello’ from other students and receiving a light nod from Leona. “What are you doing?”

“Miserably failing to win Kingscholar-senpai in a chess match,” one of the students answered. “No one has succeeded yet…”

“Check and mate,” Leona announced, when the first year he played cried out of indignation. 

“How are you so talented in chess, Kingscholar-senpai!!..”

“Hmph,” Leona chuckled, but you somehow knew somewhere underneath his ever-so-mighty persona he was genuinely happy to receive those compliments. “Right, herbivore. Come play with me while I’m in the mood.”

You tilted your head, thinking beforehand. You couldn’t remember the last time you played, but possessing a naturally inquisitive and quick-witted mind due to your job, you nodded, taking a seat in front of him.

The match was silent, and if at first you heard first years hitched breaths, during the second hour passing of the match, even those students left, leaving a silence lingering between you two. 

“I really admire you, Leona,” you dared to break the silence, seeing Leona’s hand holding a chess piece stop for a second. 

“Flattery will take you to nowhere,” he replied, performing an en passant of your pawn, to which you pouted. “Huh, you can be cute sometimes.”

“And you can be sweet, I see,” you flirted back. “But… I’m sorry. Checkmate, Leona.”

Two knights endgame, huh. 

Leona was staring at the chess board for a fairly concerning amount of time before bursting into laughs. 

“W-what’s wrong?..”

“Remember I said you’ll take your words back?” He raised his gaze to meet yours. “Take it now. Tell me I’m not impressive anymore now that you’ve outsmarted me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling annoyed.

“What are you saying.”

“I can’t believe it, huh,” he laughed again. “You, a magicless human, out of people… Hah! What a ridiculously clever herbivore you are. It pisses me off.”

“You know what? Shut up.”

You grabbed his shirt, seeing his absolutely unimpressed expression, and clenched your fists with even more force than you thought you would, and pressed your forehead to his, chess pieces scattering around the table. 

“Even when you have no one to believe in your abilities, even you yourself doubt them…” You took a deep breath. “I myself will be that one person who will believe in you AND believe you.”

You heard a splash, realizing it was the liquid in the heart above his head filling half of it, and then a genuine laughter came from Leona’s chest.

“You’re insane, herbivore.”

You really were insane, indeed. 

To the point you couldn’t even take a quick look at Leona in the past week due to him being anywhere but near you, which annoyed you for sure. You had a whole month planned for you two to spend together in case his route appeared too difficult to reach an ending, so many things to witness, but instead…

Instead you managed to meet Jade thrice or even more, then stumble upon Lilia ‘ku-fu-fu’-ing at you cheerfully and mysteriously, and all those were driving you crazy slowly. You wanted to have a chat with Jade who portrayed no such interest you used to witness in his route, much to your dismay, but you also wanted to finally find Leona and genuinely get to know him more.

“Oh, Yuu-san.”

You were resting at the school yard, students walking here and there, chatting and playing, and you saw Jade approaching you, nodding to him.

“Good afternoon.”

“Oya, isn’t it Yuu?”

… Jade and Lilia. And no signs of Leona or whatsoever. You blinked at them, trying to conceal your honest feelings, and listened to them talking.

“It’s rare to see you all alone,” Jade noticed. 

“Indeed, you could be often seen in Leona’s company. Did you two have a quarrel?”

“We…” Despite how much you wanted to protest, you weren’t sure anymore. 

“We have not.”

A sudden warmth spreading in your chest and a heart pounding faster than it was made you turn to Leona, who appeared behind your back, and you smiled at him.

“Herbivore,” he called you, shoving his nose into the crook of your neck and making you giggle. “One week of me being busy, and you already have such a strong scent of those two. How come?”

“Look who’s talking.”

“My my, do you have a problem with us?” Lilia obviously tried to tease Leona, but the last one suddenly fell silent.

“Leona?..”

“Yeah, I have one.”

His arms enveloping you made you yelp softly, and an unfamiliar burning on your cheeks made you bite your lips and stare at Leona’s cheeky expression.

“I liked it more when you had an aroma of garden’s flowers on you more. And also…”

A kiss he pressed on your lips was bright, passionate, also confusing to everyone else, and very much awaited by you. 

“That way I don’t need to worry anymore. Care for another game of chess, herbivore?”

You smiled at him, wanting to reply instantly, but the heart icon above filled to its max, and splashing beats of bright light covered your watering eyes. 

“Yes, let’s play one more time, Leona!..”

You… 

You really were growing to hate otome games to your very heart.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[cancerian-woman]

Hi! I would love to hear why you think Klaus and Bonnie would be a compatible or at least fascinating match :) I can tell you're going to turn me into a Klonnie shipper even though the last thing I need in my life is another doomed OTP!!

Hey :D I love a good doomed ship it makes the fandom more interesting especially in terms of creativity tbh.

Bonnie had proven herself to be just as morally corrupt as other characters as needed. Sure, it wasn’t to the extreme of others but it existed especially if her friends were threatened. That type of loyalty and strength would be what Klaus would like because of how possessive and selfish he is.

There’s Bennett-Mikaelson connections through the lore of TVD. Ayana was Esther’s mentor. Abby entombed Mikael. Then in present there’s Esther prasing Bonnie for being the one to fight Klaus. Elijah recruited Bonnie to do it. Both Bonnie and Klaus have parental struggles on both sides. Klaus is more forefront than Bonnie’s but it exists. Tagging my friends content here :).

Klaus was introduced with an affinity for witches (Gloria, Maddox, Greta..)it was just dropped after well you know ;). But in a sibling light I could see both Rebekah and Kol taking a liking to Bonnie. Rebekah wanted that normal highschool experience and Kol was formerly a witch. We got a little bit of Kennett moments in s4 but that was dropped. Bonnie is the only TVD character to never have her own side friend out the group.

Narratively TVD would’ve just had to work with their few key points to make Klonnie a slow burn ship from s2-4 tbh. Bonnie kept getting the short-stick. Season 3 she got cheated on, her mother abandoned again, she had all the reasons to distant herself from her friends and end up in someone’s darker arms. The Mikaelson Ball ep Esther is leeching off Bonnie and her bloodline yet Bonnie is no where to be found… huh… Bonnie doesn’t get enough in universe credit for her actions because she has not only nearly killed Klaus she has saved his life(and everyone else’s.)

Season 4 Bonnie was dipping into a darker side with Expression and she blindly trusted Shane just to learn magic. It would be another moment for Klaus to try and get in her good graces. Klaus would have to open up emotionally for Bonnie to sympathize with him. I think they would challenge each other. Bonnie is one of the female characters who can fight back to people who are trying to harm her in a way Elena or Caroline can’t tbh.

Bonnie wasn’t just any witch either she was a Bennett which her family is responsible for nearly everything in TVD. I don’t think Klaus would’ve suddenly became a “Disney prince” type of BF by any means but I could see the relationship working. Klaus is still an elitist bastard with years of knowledge Bonnie would want. Bonnie is willing to give that loyalty to anyone who is good to her. Cami is seen as good and she even falls for Klaus lmao.

Last point people only play morality clauses with Bonnie because the series does. By the end of TVD Bonnie considers Damon not Elena or Caroline or Matt her bestfriend. That should say enough about what Bonnie would allow but….The writers and fans will argue that Bonnie doesn’t deserve to be paired up with toxic men or women but TVD never introduced anyone that was “morally good” by our world standards. Even Enzo physically harmed Bonnie pre-relationship. The other leads are white and never held to the same standards. Elena said it was Stefan until it wasn’t. Caroline said no to Klaus until she didn’t. Hayley’s arc includes with her fucking Klaus and dating Elijah… the list could continue.

Hope I made it all clear 😁.

Tagging some of my friends accounts who love Klonnie too: @klonnieshippersclub @melmedardasworld @mythorhuman @24kmagiic @bennettmaximoff

[thebrickinbrick]

Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk, Part 1

At length, by dint of mounting on each other’s backs, aiding themselves with the skeleton of the staircase, climbing up the walls, clinging to the ceiling, slashing away at the very brink of the trap-door, the last one who offered resistance, a score of assailants, soldiers, National Guardsmen, municipal guardsmen, in utter confusion, the majority disfigured by wounds in the face during that redoubtable ascent, blinded by blood, furious, rendered savage, made an irruption into the apartment on the first floor.

There they found only one man still on his feet, Enjolras. Without cartridges, without sword, he had nothing in his hand now but the barrel of his gun whose stock he had broken over the head of those who were entering. He had placed the billiard table between his assailants and himself; he had retreated into the corner of the room, and there, with haughty eye, and head borne high, with this stump of a weapon in his hand, he was still so alarming as to speedily create an empty space around him.

A cry arose:

“He is the leader! It was he who slew the artillery-man. It is well that he has placed himself there. Let him remain there. Let us shoot him down on the spot.”

“Shoot me,” said Enjolras.

And flinging away his bit of gun-barrel, and folding his arms, he offered his breast.

The audacity of a fine death always affects men. As soon as Enjolras folded his arms and accepted his end, the din of strife ceased in the room, and this chaos suddenly stilled into a sort of sepulchral solemnity. The menacing majesty of Enjolras disarmed and motionless, appeared to oppress this tumult, and this young man, haughty, bloody, and charming, who alone had not a wound, who was as indifferent as an invulnerable being, seemed, by the authority of his tranquil glance, to constrain this sinister rabble to kill him respectfully.

His beauty, at that moment augmented by his pride, was resplendent, and he was fresh and rosy after the fearful four and twenty hours which had just elapsed, as though he could no more be fatigued than wounded. It was of him, possibly, that a witness spoke afterwards, before the council of war: “There was an insurgent whom I heard called Apollo.” A National Guardsman who had taken aim at Enjolras, lowered his gun, saying: “It seems to me that I am about to shoot a flower.”

Twelve men formed into a squad in the corner opposite Enjolras, and silently made ready their guns.

Then a sergeant shouted:

“Take aim!”

An officer intervened.

“Wait.”

And addressing Enjolras:

“Do you wish to have your eyes bandaged?”

“No.”

“Was it you who killed the artillery sergeant?”

“Yes.”

Grantaire had waked up a few moments before.

Grantaire, it will be remembered, had been asleep ever since the preceding evening in the upper room of the wine-shop, seated on a chair and leaning on the table.

He realized in its fullest sense the old metaphor of “dead drunk.” The hideous potion of absinthe-porter and alcohol had thrown him into a lethargy. His table being small, and not suitable for the barricade, he had been left in possession of it. He was still in the same posture, with his breast bent over the table, his head lying flat on his arms, surrounded by glasses, beer-jugs and bottles. His was the overwhelming slumber of the torpid bear and the satiated leech. Nothing had had any effect upon it, neither the fusillade, nor the cannon-balls, nor the grape-shot which had made its way through the window into the room where he was. Nor the tremendous uproar of the assault.

He merely replied to the cannonade, now and then, by a snore. He seemed to be waiting there for a bullet which should spare him the trouble of waking. Many corpses were strewn around him; and, at the first glance, there was nothing to distinguish him from those profound sleepers of death.

Noise does not rouse a drunken man; silence awakens him. The fall of everything around him only augmented Grantaire’s prostration; the crumbling of all things was his lullaby. The sort of halt which the tumult underwent in the presence of Enjolras was a shock to this heavy slumber. It had the effect of a carriage going at full speed, which suddenly comes to a dead stop. The persons dozing within it wake up. Grantaire rose to his feet with a start, stretched out his arms, rubbed his eyes, stared, yawned, and understood.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Can I request a part 2 of guilded cage please it’s really good also I’m a slut for dark!morpheus

Like they got officially married she’s queen and maybe corinthian or one of his siblings go to her and there like wtf sis you ok with this and Morpheus Is eavesdropping because he wants her honest answer and she has excepted her role and he’s like that’s my girl

A/N: Just a PSA - this is comparably worse than Gilded Cage, whatever demon possessed me back then has taken a sabbatical.

"Silvered Perch" - Dark!Morpheus x Reader

['Gilded Cage'] | [MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.4k

What a strange thought it was, that your life was not always like this: drowning in jewels, silk, delicacies which names you couldn't pronounce, wonderful creatures bowing low each time they saw you and most of all - an entity the strangest of them all who wanted to bend over backwards to keep you happy. Would it be a little too on the nose to say it felt like a dream?

Morpheus made sure to keep the word he had given you, so not too long after you settled down in Dreaming the news of a wedding spread across the realm. Although none of his subjects had the faintest clue as to who you were, they seemed to put trust in the integrity of their king and welcomed you more than warmly. To them, it seemed quite obvious that whoever is worthy of being the bride of Dream of the Endless, had to be at least a little bit exceptional - an expectation you weren’t sure you could ever fulfil.

You didn't feel at home in Dreaming, not right away: your life only became stranger as you were suddenly showered with gifts and honours you doubted you deserved in any way. It felt wrong to accept those riches - after all, you had done exactly nothing to earn such honours. What if one day every creature of Dreaming realizes it? What if he does? You had fooled him so far but how could you be sure this lark could go on? Like every good thing in your life, this spell, too, had to disperse someday. You were nothing more than a leech on his charity.

"There is something on your mind," Morpheus caught you off guard once. Apparently, there was nothing that could escape his stern gaze - especially if the said thing was connected to you. You could only wonder how much he had learned about you just through his silent observation.

"I don't know if I deserve any of... this." You made a vague circle with your hand. It was a nice euphemism on your part - ‘good life’ couldn’t quite move past your lips.

"No," he answered in a decisive tone but before the painful hole in your chest could open once again, the very hole this unjust world scratched inside you, he continued, "You deserve a lot more. More than I am able to give you."

A sad smile entered your face. To some degree, you pitied his delusional perception of you but your selfishness forced you to lick every last drop of it. "You're a real sweet-talker, you know?"

Morpheus’s hand gently held yours. Without letting his gaze fall from your face, he placed a warm kiss on your fingers, right next to the magnificent yet bizarre ring he had given you on your wedding day - ‘a testimony of my love’ he called it. ”There is nothing sweet about truth. It simply is."

“I find it hard to believe in that truth,” you answered quietly. 

“Truth remains despite beliefs.” He presses another kiss to your fingers before letting his lips leave a trail of pecks along your skin down to your wrist. “There is no price I would not pay to let you see yourself through my eyes even once.” Perhaps that was better for the soul - should you become privy to Morpheus’s perception of you, there’d be no more modesty left in you, no innate obligation to remain humble; oceans, volcanos, supernovas… were they not all terrible, beautiful and prideful? And yet even they dimmed in the halo of your sacrilegious wonder.

Due to Morpheus’s explicit prohibition, you couldn’t leave the castle grounds without him - he only cared and wanted to make sure that no malice lurking in the hearts of his subject would raise its hand against you. Considering how passionate he was about that one rule, you never even questioned it, simply gloating in the indirect confession of his affections and how much they tormented his every thought.

But who were you to defy your husband’s (reminding yourself of that rightful title made a flustered blush appear on your cheeks) orders? Waiting for him to finish his royal duties, you wandered through the palace. Despite seeing those marble walls and crystal chandeliers every day, they still managed to take your breath away. It was a view no one back in the Waking World could ever imagine, and now it was your very own secret and your home. An infantile giggle escaped your lips - ‘a queen in a castle’. How ridiculous and wonderful.

An unexpected fluttering of wings diverted your attention from admiring the halls of the chateau. To your surprise, Matthew had decided to pay you a visit - rarely did he engage in friendly chatter with you and you never quite understood whether it was due to a lack of common interests or a lack of his interest in particular. His black feathers shone in the dispersed sunlight coming through the tall stained-glass windows. There was something equally malevolent and dignified about the way he looked.

"Not following Morpheus around?" you asked him humorously.

Without answering, Matthew hopped closer to you, his beady eyes watched you carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the strange inquiry. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean this whole situation is just a little... weird, isn't it?” his voice remained low, somewhat anxious of suspected prying ears. Little did he know, his fear wasn’t unreasonable. “Dream shows up and, no offence, you throw yourself at him after he made a ludicrous offer."

To be fair, Morpheus was well-aware that he shouldn’t listen to your conversation with Matthew. Despite that, he also knew that it was his sole responsibility to tend to your needs and desires, which made eavesdropping seem a little less impolite - at least that’s what he had told himself. If there was the smallest thing that upset your heart, even a flowerpot standing a little too much to the right, he needed to know. He had to fix it as soon as possible so that you don’t see through his charming demeanour and realize what a selfish, calloused creature he truly was; what beast loneliness had turned him into. Now that Morpheus captured his little bird, he wasn’t going to let it fly away - even if that meant clipping its wings but that was a possibility he’d rather not ponder at the moment. Standing in the shadows of his own palace like a beggar at an emperor’s court, he appeared frozen in time as he drank each sound coming from your lips, his frenzied heart dismantled every word you said in search of Dream’s possible shortcomings.

When Matthew put it like that, it did sound a little mad but many mundane things could come off as wrong if put into the right words. Unsure what answer to give him, you only shrugged. "It's a weird world, Matthew."

"You don't even know the guy,” he raised his voice slightly. Clearly, he couldn’t wrap his head around your seemingly reckless choice. “Well, you didn't at the time. And you just left everything behind for him? Your whole life! What if he was crazy?” he was becoming more animated in his bewilderment. Then, he added quickly: “Not that I think he is, of course."

"Then I probably wouldn’t be complaining anyway, would I?" But Matthew didn’t seem to appreciate your grim humour. You looked away for a moment as images of your previous life flashed before your eyes. ‘Previous life’ seemed like a fitting phrase - memories of those bleak days appeared blurry, murky, as though you weren’t recalling real events but someone’s account of a storyline in a book they had once read. "There wasn't much to leave. It wasn't an impulsive decision, there just wasn't a lot to consider in the first place. I don’t know what kind of life you had led before, Matthew,” your sombre eyes looked at him again, “but not everyone desperately clings to whatever scraps they have. My life was nothing beyond bland longing to be elsewhere. No offer is ludicrous when you go to bed each night hoping not to wake up in the morning. But then, to your own horror, you do. As time goes by, you realize you had been alive for too long, that you were never meant to make it this far. So you have a wonderful choice between death and becoming a hopeless failure. For some ridiculous reason I will always hold dear, I was offered a third choice, a way out of the vale of misery and pain I called life.”

But your tale did not satisfy his curiosity. Perhaps this conversation in low voices wasn’t meant to prove something to him but to you. "Have you never considered why he did all of this?"

Of course, you did. You had been wondering about that ever since you agreed to join him in Dreaming. But each hour of long pondering brought you to the very same conclusion: you couldn’t give him anything, so something else was the matter. And the passion with which he had offered to change your life… this wasn’t accidental. Quite clearly, in your mind, Dream of the Endless had chosen you. “I trust his integrity, I suppose,” you answered Matthew with a slight shrug of your shoulders. Truthfully, you couldn’t quite explain your trust towards your husband to yourself. More than reason, it was a case of trusting one’s instincts. “I’d need to have something valuable or unique for Morpheus to have a reason for creating some elaborate scheme. But I don’t. I may be someone but not somebody. A creature of his sort would never pay attention to something like me unless he genuinely cared. It’s bitterly funny when you think about it: it takes an eldritch being to love the most unremarkable human.”

"You know, if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is."

Perhaps Matthew was right. In your own experience, good things in life never came without a price, some secret cost that you could never learn about until the very moment you had to pay it. Your eyes wandered around the majestic, marble hall; the stunningly expensive silk you were wearing; the strange ring on your finger and its crystal, which appeared infinite when you looked inside it - there was, quite literally, no price that could make you regret your choice. "And yet peanut butter ice cream is a thing,” you said absentmindedly still staring into the crystal. Light entered the wonderful jewel from all angles, reflected off of irregular sides inside and turned into a pleiad of colours you couldn’t even begin to name. The gem wasn’t of this world - that much you were certain of.

"Fair point."

Matthew’s agreement elicited laughter from you. Maybe you didn’t quite see eye-to-eye about your relationship with Morpheus but that didn’t necessarily mean you had to remain estranged in any way - truthfully, you wished you could befriend him. He had been, after all, a human once. If there was anyone in Dreaming who could relate to your experiences even a little bit, it was that back-talking raven (not that his cheeky attitude was a flaw).

As your giggling died down, Matthew tried his last chance at this suspicious inquiry. "Do you ever think about going back to the Waking World? Even just popping in for a visit?"

Morpheus clenched his fist. As much as he refused to think about clipping wings at the moment, the idea temptingly lingered in the back of his mind. You can’t go back. You can’t leave him. Suddenly, his frenzied desperation flashed Nada's face before his eyes - he truly didn't want that history to repeat. It would ruin him to live on knowing that you're going through unimaginably horrifying tortures in Hell but if you were to seduce him and then leave as though he meant nothing to you, perhaps that's exactly what you deserved.

"There's nothing and no one for me to visit,” you answered in a decisive tone.

Understanding that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere else, that you had told him all that could be said, Matthew knew it was time for him to go. If Morpheus notices he’d been gone, Dream might start asking questions and considering the nature of his inquiry - it was better to keep the King of Dreaming out of the loop. “Alright then, uh… good talk. See you around… your majesty.” If Matthew had a human face, he’d probably grimace at the royal title. Although Morpheus wasn’t adamant about being addressed properly by his closest friends, he became quite unforgiving when it came to your rightful title. You were a queen and he’d be damned if one of his creations dared to forget that.

With another flutter of dark wings, you were left alone once more. Solitude had never felt so serene - peaceful instead of overwhelmingly empty.

Slowly running out of ways to pass the time, you hesitantly sat on the throne that belonged to Dream. To be fair, he never expressed anything short of encouragement whenever you did but still, it felt like you were a deceptive imposter leeching off a King hopelessly in love. 

Remaining in the shadows, Morpheus watched. His breaths became ragged as he admired the effortlessly regal beauty you were beaming with. Perhaps you refused to believe in your overpowering charm but none who had ever laid their eyes on you could indulge in such dishonesty. A new thought sprouted in his thoughts clouded with an obsession - maybe this is how things should be: the King of Dreams kneeling before his queen, a god-like creature rendered powerless by something far more perfect than he could ever strive to become. Whatever you’d ask him, he’d waste no time completing, never second-guessing your most bloodthirsty whims. Yet you remained completely oblivious to your absolute might, fiddling with the crystal ring he had given you. Inside that gilded cage, you had begged to be imprisoned in, there was a silvered perch like a pedestal an obedient bird of paradise sits on. You were a good nightingale and so you impatiently waited for your merciful captor to return. And what a sweet song you’re going to grace him with! Each mellow melody you gave him made Morpheus all the grimmer: he could never let anyone else know the blessing that calmed his sweet, sweet despair. You were his nightingale, all of your songs belonged to him only.

[sasukeless]

6, 8, 11 and 16

6) which ship fans are the most annoying?

i have grown to hate poly team 7 the most rn. i hate whenever ppl see a ship war and go “if they all date it fixes everything” when no???? and that ship specifically just lives off my leeching of narusasu scenes and trying to insert sakura in it. example: “naruto is the sun, sasuke is the moon and sakura the star” ?&/&2!&2 as if the manga isn’t constantly making narusasu dynamic smth separated from every other bond and relationship each of them has.

it’s incredibly annoying also that the same people that have spend years harassing narusasu for imaginary misogyny for shipping a gay ship and fictional cheating hcs are now all suddenly okay w cheating as long as it’s on hinata only. like most of these people are just annoying sakura self inserts that are mad she’s sidelined all the time because kishimoto wanted for narusasu only to be the plot.

8) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

we could be here all day when most of naruto stans don’t open the manga... anyway i will say jealous / possessive sasuke. there’s not a single scene of him acting like that but it’s such a mass delusion.

alsoo when ppl say that part 2 sakura moved on from her crush on sasuke sjjskskle it’s okay if that’s ur hc but like. that’s not true at all please read the manga

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

when ppl try to add characters to narusasu and make them poly. just loud and wrong they gotta change their whole characters to make it make sense

when people make sasuke always rude and the one always picking fights with naruto like??? be serious

the sasuke finds his brother annoying while itachi is just a loving older brother characterization also it’s stupid. i’m sorry but itachi is literally the person he loves most and looks up to even after everything that fucker did. meanwhile itachi is an annoying pest when it comes to how controlling he is over sasuke but he’s never portrayed as anything but perfect

ah. i also hate when people make sasuke and orochimaru get along or have orochimaru be a parental figure whatever. just weird to me when you actually look how their dynamic is and also sasuke hates that guy like srly

[animeyanderelover]

I’m going with platonic Yandere here since it makes me more comfortable.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, paranoia, manipulation, gaslighting, abduction

I’m still your family!

♟️He's always been doting on Nunnally and you during his childhood, before he lost his mother and started despising the empire. Lelouch is quite protective over his sister, no matter if she's younger or older than him. If you're older than him though, he's very clingy in a childish way. He's often found attached to your hip and is sort of embarrassed if you treat him like a naive kid. He often tells you that he'll protect you when he's older so that you can rest easy and don't have to worry about anything. He wants to grow strong so he can take care of both you and Nunnally. Whilst he is a bit embarrassed when you coddle over him, he secretly also enjoys it. If he's older than you, he treats you accordingly. If you have problems or worries, he insists that you always come to him and chides you when you do something stupid. As the older brother he believes himself to know better than you so he wants you to follow his advice and rely on him.

♟️ Lelouch is a very perceptive and intelligent child so he might sometimes sense that something is a bit odd though. You don't look very much like his parents and at times he sees how other nobles look at you or how they start whispering. He's still only a kid though, runs to his mother at one point and asks her why everyone is acting so strange around you. She gives him a smile and tries to ease his mind by distracting him, tells him that nothing is wrong. Lelouch has a feeling that it's a lie though, especially since the very short look of shock and surprise on her face didn't fly over his head. He tries to ask his father who isn't quite as gentle as his mother, telling him sternly that nothing is wrong before sending him away since he's busy and doesn't want Lelouch to question him further.

♟️ For a short time he might wonder if you're a child conceived by another woman instead of his own mother but he quickly throws that suspicion out of the window since you still look nothing like his father. That's when he suddenly has the idea that you might not be related to him at all and that thought suddenly worries him. It would make sense though considering how other nobles talk about you or look at you. Because if his suspicion really is true, they most likely don't think that you belong within the Imperial family. What if they would treat you rudely because of it? How would you feel if you would ever find out? Would you still want to be with Nunnally and him? He's scared even if he tries to tell himself that this isn't confirmed but the "what if" question latches onto his mind like a leech.

♟️ You find yourself surrounded by Lelouch the following days a lot after but you're happy since he's your beloved brother. Seeing you all happy and smiling when he's playing with you breaks his heart a bit. If you really aren't related, he can't let you find out. You think that this is your family and he just knows finding out that they might not be would shatter your heart and in the worst case you might avoid them and be kicked out of this family. He could never let that happen. Lelouch has to know the truth though so he tries to investigate as good as he can even if it's hard to do so since he's still only a child. When the fateful day arrives where his mother is killed and his father decides to banish him, he decides to give his son the last and final push. He admits to Lelouch that he's aware that his son has been trying to dig into your past and reveals to Lelouch the truth.

♟️ You were adopted, your real parents nobles who were close to his mother which is the reason why she decided to adopt you. Other nobles were aware of that and not happy that someone who isn't even related to the king was taken in by the Imperial family and received immense power thanks to it. It was forbidden to talk about it though. Hearing that you two truly aren't siblings breaks Lelouch's heart, especially since you genuinely think of Nunnally and him as your siblings. He's distraught but the final blow is given when Charles announces that if his dear fake sister is so important to him, he'll banish her together with Nunnally and him. He shall not reveal your true identity to you yet though, a last mercy for his son. It's that moment that makes Lelouch hate his father truly.

♟️ Lelouch keeps this truth a secret from both Nunnally and you as he just can't bring himself to tell you nor her the truth. He thinks it's better that way, if both of his precious sisters never find out. Lelouch tries to act normal so none of his siblings notices but sometimes it just slips through. Especially if someone points out that you don't really look anything like Nunnally and Lelouch. He's filled with indignation as soon as he hears someone even joking about it, turns more intimidating and demands an apology. After that he reassures you that you shouldn't listen to such people. After all you three are the only family you all have left now. He's constantly a bit on edge though when Japan is conquered by Britannia. He is scared that you three might be found and that you'll find out the truth then.

♟️ He goes all platonic Yandere when he receives the Geass from C.C. He grows over both of his sisters very obsessive and protective, set on his goal to create a world where both of them can be happy and where you will never be confronted with the truth. Everyone will treat you like you're truly of royal blood. Lelouch follows a path of violence and destruction which slowly starts gnawing away his sanity. He knows that he can't stop what he has started though and seeing you spending time together with Nunnally and both of you laughing despite everything you two went through, he regains his bitter motivation. With him being Zero though, he also grows more paranoid for your safety. It goes without saying that both of you are never aware of the atrocities Lelouch commits and the lives he sacrifices. He could never let you find out, terrified that both of you would end up being scared of him and not seeing him as your brother anymore.

♟️ With the increased encounters and involvements of the Imperial Family he dreads that by any chance they might encounter you and tell you the truth. He found out during his first ambush on Clovis that by now all the other members of the family have found out the truth about you so he can't let you meet you under all means necessary. Whilst he has a feeling that Euphemia would be gentle and not confront you with the truth since she knows how precious your family is to you, he's not so sure when it comes to other princes and princesses. He has lost almost complete faith in the royal family, except as already mentioned Euphie. He doesn't even view most of them as his real family anyways, the only family he wants and needs, the only family you need, has been with him for the last few years.

♟️ He considers using his Geass on you but for now he has no reason to do so. You're still unaware and knowing that he can only use Geass once on a person makes him more careful. He has to think this all through. Lelouch wants you to spend all your time with Nunnally when he has to leave, sometimes calls you and begs you to stay inside when there is a battle going on. The moment you end up finding out or even suspecting, it's over though. At first he tries to tell you that this is a lie and that you shouldn't fall for it but when he sees the tears stinging your eyes and the pain in your gaze as you ask him if he knew about this, his mask cracks. His composure falters as he starts raising his tone, telling you that he's always seen you as his beloved sister, that all he ever wanted was to protect you and that he's your family as much as Nunnally is. You love both of them after all too.

♟️ Then suddenly he stops as he regains a semblence of sanity and looks at you calmly. He walks over to you and takes you in his arms, apologizes softly for shouting at you. You're terrified but are even more sad and betrayed that he never told you. Then he looks at you, his Geass activated, and tells you to forget everything you've just found out. He'll always be your brother, Nunnally will always be your sister and you will always love them as your family. Then your mind suddenly becomes all fuzzy and hazed as all your memories suddenly disappear. When you snap out of it, you feel a bit dizzy but luckily your brother is there to secure you. Your brother, Lelouch. You ask him confused what you're doing here, unable to recall why you even went here in the first place or what happened. He just gives you a small smile and tells you that you haven't felt well and went to him. You truly don't feel good in that moment but your brother takes you home, advices you to rest a bit.

♟️ C.C praises him sarcastically for his lack of remorse for keeping the truth from you, something Lelouch counters with his own beliefs. You were suffering when you confronted him about the secret, finding out the truth would have only made you unhappy and depressed. Isn't it better to remain oblivious and instead have a happy life surrounded by the people who love you and who you love instead of feeling lonely and betrayed when finding out the truth? When the green-haired woman counters that Lelouch is just scared that you'd leave him and never see him in the same light again if you were to know that your real parents died and that you were adopted, Lelouch gives her a short glare. She's wrong, this is for the best. This is to keep his family save.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Could you write some Bam x m!reader or even gn!reader? No specific requests,, smut fluff hurt/comfort I don’t care I just need more non f!reader Bam ficsssss 🥲

Bloodletting

A vampiric earl in ‘1880s London discovers a taste like no other, and an alcoholic surgeon finds someone who doesn’t mind the smell of death that clings to his clothes. It’s a win- win for both men.

Bam Margera X Masc!Reader

(Vampire!Au, Fluff, Angst)

6k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, alcoholism, scent kink, biting, blood, injuries, descriptions of Victorian-era surgeries, vomiting, corpses, manipulation, bullying, kissing, possessive behavior, jealousy, slut shaming (metaphorical)

An: Thank you so much for the request! What is it with me and writing fanfiction about Bam and vampires? I also noticed that most jackass fan fictions are for fem!readers so I can see where you’re coming from! I always try to make an effort to write fics with Gn!Reader but I really do think I should write more Masc!Reader, so feel free to send in any requests you may have for this! Also the manor Bam lives I’min this fic was not so sneakily modeled after the one on the cover of Bara No Seidou by Malice mixer (bc their music also rly influenced this fic!) lol anyways thank you for the request and please keep them coming! :)

It's not uncommon to hear people say that their careers drive them to drink, but you were sure that you were the only man in London who could honestly say that yours was entirely responsible for your drinking habit. Three months ago, you graduated top of your general surgery class at St Damian Medical School and you had just now come to realize the kind of stress that came with the job. Who knew performing autopsies and amputations day in and day out isn’t exactly easy on the mind? Despite that, you couldn’t complain about the pay, not the great company you found to share a pint with down at the local pub. Well, a couple pints, and some gin, and maybe some whiskey if you had to break out the leeches that day. Point is, they didn’t seem to care nor notice the cadaverous smell of death and formaldehyde that seemed to linger around you once you got off work. But after all the fun ended, you would have to make the long, stumbling walk back to the East End slums you lived in by only the light of the gas lamps that lined the River Thames and try to get enough sleep to function the next morning.

This was one of those nights. Just as the AMs lazily rolled around, you decided to depart, waving goodbye to all your friends and starting out into the cool, yellow painted misty night. Laughing to yourself at something one of the fellows said earlier, you were already pretty dizzy as you trudged through the streets, eerily quiet save for the clammy winds that blew in from the riverfront. The water that collected in the cracks of the cobblestone rippled under your boots as you dragged your feet, drunkenly unaware of what was around you. But despite everything in your surroundings pointing to you being completely alone, you got the very strange feeling that something or someone was watching you. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you ignored the hairs that stood up on the back of your neck as you passed a dim alleyway, trying to ignore the shadow in the corner of your eye.

Out of the dense fog, a pair of strong arms that suddenly wrapped around your torso and pulled you off your feet put it in your mind just how bad a decision that was. Drawn far away from the reach of lamplight, you were too slow to react as your body fell back against a firm torso and you froze in fear. A dark, leather gloved hand seized your jaw and wrenched your head to one side while an arm snaked around your waist, holding you snugly against your assailant. A low, predatory chuckle rumbled out of the chest of whoever was holding you, breathing little puffs of white smoke against your skin as he leaned in close to your neck and took a deep inhale, much like how one would relish the scent of a delicious meal. There was something that came over you as you were trapped in the clutches of your captor that made your head swim that made it so you didn’t so much as thunk to squirm as you felt what seemed to be two needles just barely scrape your jugular vein before plunging deep into your neck.

The lascivious suckling and laving noises echoed against the brick walls of the alleyway as the man who had you in his arms pinned you to the rough stone. Pupils blown, your body trembled at the blissed out groan in your ear, entirely helpless as your knees went all weak and your heavy eyelids threatened to fall shut. Just as you were about to fall unconscious from blood loss, blood permitting your clothes, you collapsed backward against your captor and he placed a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your still bleeding wound before unceremoniously letting your limp body fall to the ground. Staring down at the body at his feet, a dark, lustful glint flashed through his eyes as he licked up the rich, savory liquid that dripped from his lips.

The next morning, when you woke up in the alleyway without any memory of falling asleep there, you chalked it up as a nightmare. Simply standing up, you brushed the fronts of your trousers off and headed home to clean up before your next shift. Your pounding headache that you were sure resulted from drinking made your wince as you splashed water on your face, not noticing the two, swollen little marks that remained on your neck nor the blood that stained your collar that you were pretty sure was there before the previous night. With the work you had cut out for you that day, you couldn’t afford to be late that morning. For the past two weeks your superiors had been breathing down your neck about those bodies that had been washing up in the river- prostitutes, mostly, but there were some urchins in the mix as well. After ending up in your hands, the cause of death for the cadavers was impossible for you to identify no matter how many times you went through the list- no signs of a struggle or trauma, but no bloating from drowning. However, since you were a fresh face in the medical field, the last thing you wanted to do was discredit yourself, so you reported the cause of death as the latter.

As you hurried down your front steps, a large ship drifted down the river in front of your apartment, the hand painted script on the back indicating it was a part of Earl Margera’s cargo fleet. Rumor has it his family got their old money fortune from the opium trade, but that did nothing to halt business for him. If you were a person in London that needed to move things, he was the man to call. Recently, you had gotten word that the Earl would be holding another one of his yearly lavish galas at his manor that he lived in with his council (the group of men that advised his business decisions) and that all of London’s finest would be invited- the only reason his eccentric lordship would bother to make an appearance. Making your way into work, you thought about how women would throw themselves at his feet, almost literally sometimes, but the Earl would pay them about as much mind as he did to the men constantly trying to win his favor to get their hands on his vast fortune, a constitution you could respect on some level.

Blinking hard and trying to pull yourself together, you were tying up your stiff, blood stained surgical apron as you got ready to slice up the body of the day, when one of your coworkers came excitedly running up to you. He thrust a piece of paper into your hands, “Y/N! Y/N! Have you seen this?” Speculatively, you scanned over the yellowed, crinkled letter, your eyes widening at what you read. That gala- yes, the one at the Earl’s house- was not only a charity gala, but a charity gala for the hospital. A bewildered smile spread across your face as you processed the news, “Oh my…This is incredible!” Your mind went wild as you thought about it- perhaps with the money, you could afford to finally purchase a new set of surgical instruments or switch to chloroform for sedation instead of relying on alcohol! Oh, this just couldn’t get better. According to the letter, the ball would be held two weeks from that day, giving you ample time to receive your paycheck and purchase some formal clothes for the event.

The air was thick with tension as you stood in the Earl’s front room with all the other dignified guests, the sweet scent of Acanthus and Hemlock blossoms drifting in from the garden through the wide open front doors. Above you, a large, crystal chandelier hung from the peak of the ribbed vault ceiling, cascading light onto the tall columns that held up the balcony of the second story. The manor really was grand, in every sense of the word. While you were taking all this opulence in, the room fell silent at a high pitched whistle from the top of the staircase and everyone shifted their gaze towards the sound. You did too, just in time to catch the Earl hoping up to slide all the way down the long wooden banister of the staircase. Not exactly the entrance you expected of him, but when his Edwardian oxfords touched solid ground and everyone all rushed to have the first chance to speak to his lordship, you were more surprised to see him completely ignoring them, parting the crowd as he walked towards…you? Shocked as everyone else, you weren't sure how to respond as he reached out a waiting, gloved hand towards you with a smile, “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Doctor.” You were suddenly stricken by the realization that he really was as handsome as all those women said, not to mention charming. Quickly taking his hand, you searched your mind for an appropriate response, “A-An honor? Oh, my Lord- it is a privilege for me to make yours!” There was a look of satisfaction on his face at your social blunder, glancing around at the patrons crowded in the room.

With one hand, he gestured for the large pair of heavy, wooden double doors at the far end of the room and they opened towards the great hall as the Earl glanced over to you with those crystal blue eyes, his voice entirely level, “Walk with me. Let’s talk about those funds for the hospital.” Following at his heels, you felt like a man prostrating himself before a king, “Really, it cannot be understated how much your generous donation means to us, my Lord.” There was something so enamoring about his generosity that just swept you off of your feet. The sounds of the festivities echoed through the empty halls as he showed you around the palace grounds, the suits of armor and sarcophagi and all the other eclectic relics he had collected over the years littering the halls. “Oh, ten thousand pounds is nothing. It’s the least I could give.” There was something about him that made you feel so comfortable in his presence, and you started to let your guard down, just slightly.

“You know, something about you is really quite…familiar. Have you visited St. Thomas’ lately?” Musing, you walked at his side through the grand, tapestry lined halls while you thought back to the faces you regularly saw at the pub, now blurred by alcohol, as if he would ever find himself there. Your eyes wandered towards the skull of an animal you didn’t recognize that sat on a shelf and was being used as a bookend as his expression turned sour like it was an improper thing to suggest, “Oh. I don’t go to hospitals…But” There was this knowing glint in the Earl’s eye as he continued, speaking with a tone that suggested a double entendre, “I’ve spectated on the operating theater in the past, if that’s what you’re asking. I am…morbidly curious about the fragile balance between life and death, myself. I'm sure you could understand, doctor.” Oh, you had no clue. All those nights he spent in the shadow cloaked corner of that pub you so loved to frequent, sitting there with a pint and a rare steak in front of him while you were at the bar, whining about your job to whatever drunk sod was humoring you that night, watching…listening…waiting in anticipation for you to head home for the evening- thinking about the desert that would follow his meal.

The two of you paused in what appeared to be a study. On one end of the room was a large, hand carved wooden fireplace, the mantle of which sat a candlestick holder that, if you had a less keen eye, you wouldn’t have recognized as having been fashioned from a human spine, and a glass vase containing an arrangement of roses, lilies, orchids, and irises, all white and all having seemed to have gone off a while ago. Above the mantle was where your focus was drawn, this large, regal portrait of the Earl, looking all serious and wistful in clothes that cost more than your year’s salary. Fascinated, you turned to study it in awe for a moment, but silently, and unbeknownst to you, the Lord had been carefully observing you in the study, like a hungry wolf watching a rabbit. The proximity of your bodies went completely unnoticed by the Earl in favor of the now exposed patch of skin below your ear. Oh, this was too good. He could practically hear your heartbeat thrumming from where he stood- feel the blood coursing through your veins. It was all so…tempting. Tremoring a little, he had to exercise the highest of restraint not to seize you right there- it would be so easy too, just to wrestle you down onto the velvet chaise lounge you were standing next to and bury his face into the space between your chin and shoulder. Boarding on fantasy, the Earl let himself get lost, imagining the way your squirming and whining would ease up once he’d gotten done lapping up all the warm blood squirting from your wounds. Clearing his throat together, Earl Margera cleared his throat, “We should, um- we should get going. I believe dinner is being served.”

The meal you ate was the height of decadence. Brimming trays of succulent pheasant, rare steaks, and legs of mutton larger than your head ran down the long table in between centerpieces of Nightshade and Lavender, flanked by crisp salads and potatoes with steaming baskets of dinner rolls served with butter and honeycomb, not to mention the assortment of trifles and puddings the waitstaff rushed to the table on ruby red Cape Cod glass platters. It was more food than you had seen in one place in your entire life, and yet you found your attention so drawn to the man sitting at the end of the table- so much so that you hardly cared that your meal was getting cold. He told these grand, winding stories of his world travels that all his suck up guests tried really really hard to be interested in, but you couldn’t help yourself from hanging on every word. Sipping wine from the silver chalice that sat in front of you that always seemed to get topped off when you looked away, it was like your mind was lost in some seductive trance you couldn’t seem to break free from, but you were of sound enough mind to remember quite a few details from that evening. Namely when his Lordship approached you personally and asked you, for the sake of ease of communication, to forgo all the formalities that came with his title, and that he would prefer you call him by his given name, Brandon. More than that, he would like to meet you again- one on one, to further discuss those donations for the hospital. You suggested lunch. He said he would prefer dinner.

There was something so enchanting about the Earl that kept you in high spirits far after your first encounter and well into the next week at work. You must have been quite a sight for any onlookers, seeing a man performing an autopsy with a lovesick smile plastered on his face. Before, you could hardly complete an operation without needing to flee the room halfway through to vomit, but now you had no problem with the whole thing. The waterlogged woman Scotland Yard lugged to your table still had her stockings on as you started the external examination, thinking back to that evening while you examined for physical trauma on the neck and arms. Feeling cold skin under your gloved hand, you recalled that the Earl- sorry, Brandon had made mention of an affinity for Blackcurrant pastilles, which you thought was sweet, though it was strange for a man- wait a moment. Leaning closer, you noticed something- two small, hollow marks on the woman’s neck, as if made by a seven gauge needle.

More disturbing was the resemblance it bore to the very same marks you had been waking up to on your neck. The operating room suddenly felt much quieter than you remembered. Swallowing hard, you took out your clipboard and, with a shaking hand, went to write it down before hesitating. A cold sweat collected on your brow and it was like some instinct inside of you told you not to- it could have been a mole or something- maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. Yes, that was it, your late nights were catching up to you. Steadying your hand, you put down the pen before reaching for the hand saw that sat at your side and made a mental note to visit the library after work. Maybe you could find some medical textbook that could explain all this away as some biological reaction or benign infection or something reassuring that you missed back in school. You also made note to purchase those pastilles while you were out.

Just as you went to leave work, someone stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, and as you were distracted with thoughts of your dinner that night, you jumped a little at the stern voice of your coworker, “Y/N. Where on earth are you hurrying off to?” Turning to him, you were still a little shaken up as you stammered, pulling your apron off, “Oh! I’m, uh- I’m headed off to dinner.” His expression seemed to soften a little at that, almost looking amused, “A date- is that right? You know, for a second I thought you were off to see somebody else.” Despite his calm words, the look in his eyes gave way to the jealousy sitting just under the surface. You had noticed people at work had been treating you…differently after you went to that party. Even the pat on the back you got from him felt ingenuine as he spoke stiffly, “Well, good luck with your lady friend.”

When you knocked on the double doors of the manor’s entrance dressed in your finest, you suddenly became conscious of the way you smelled of work. Usually, all that it took to get it off was a hot shower, but somehow tonight it seemed to cling to you more than before, but before you could think much of it, a member of the Earl’s council opened the door. He was a young man- well built and tall, with dark hair and eyes obscured by a pair of tinted glasses. He seemed a little too eager to welcome you in, watching you as you stepped through the door, “Oh, you must be the guest Bam was talkin’ about!” Bam? You recalled a mention of it being the childhood nickname of the Earl, but didn’t know his council would address him so informally. The American accent of the man who answered the door struck you as peculiar, but you brushed it off as something else caught your attention. There was a stack maybe a meter high of boxes, all varying sizes, that sat haphazardly tossed next to the door, all addressed from women. Upon further examination, you noticed that they were all boxes of blackcurrant pastilles, just like the ones you brought for the Earl. It was common knowledge that he had quite a few lady admirers, but this seemed excessive.

When you looked up, it seemed your arrival had brought quite a bit of attention to yourself as, from seemingly nowhere, you had attracted a crowd. They must not get a lot of guests around here, you thought, swallowing hard and trying to ignore how you felt like a zebra that had just stumbled into a den of ravenous lions from the way they were staring at you. But just at that moment, that’s when you felt a hand grab yours and quickly tug you away to safety. “Doctor! What a pleasure to see you again.” You couldn’t explain the wave of relief that washed over you when you heard his voice because you didn’t feel that you were in any danger in the first place, but there was some instinct in you that told you otherwise. “Are these for me?” Walking in step with you, Brandon peered curiously at the green silk wrapped box in your hands and you nodded. “You are too kind.” Taking them, he placed them on a table away from the other boxes, and just out of your sight, flipped a crude gesture at his dejected councilmen who were all disappointed they didn’t get to you first.

The Earl seemed more comfortable with you now than he was at your first encounter as he ate with you in the smaller, less formal dining parlor that was shuttered off to most guests. On the table was a more simple but nonetheless impressive meal- a spiced ham, mock turtle soup, Yorkshire pudding, and a treacle tart served with custard. The mahogany dining table was lit by a candelabra, the only light in the room since the heavy, purple velvet curtains were pulled closed. The striking details of his face looked even more alluring in the shadows, refined- like it was chiseled out of alabaster by some great sculptor. Sipping from the black crystal glass in his hand, Brandon raised an eyebrow at you from across the table, “Any stories from the ward, doctor?” Perhaps it was the wine, but the way he addressed you by your title made your heart flutter. Still, you composed yourself, clearing your throat, “Well, in fact, I do. For weeks now, the police have have been discovering these- these bodies in the River Thames,” Hesitating for a moment, you debated if this was appropriate conversation for dinner, but you took the fact he hadn’t stopped you as encouragement to continue, “and I still haven’t been able to deduce the cause of death!” Brandon simply nodded, watching you with half lidded eyes. Using one finger, you gestured towards your neck and continued with a slight tremble in your voice, “The only thing they have in common are these…odd marks that usually sit right above the jugular vein. And get this- I have observed similar marks on myself! I am led to believe I’m the only surviving man in London with these…” You didn’t notice the little glint in the Earl’s eye as you tilted your jaw to the side, revealing how Ecchymosis had painted your skin in these exquisite blossoms of purple and green that were previously hidden under your collar.

“Oh, how odd...” Bam wasn't really listening to you talk, but he did a damn good job at pretending he was looking at you and not just what was throbbing right underneath your skin. Maybe it was the alcohol content, but there was something so intoxicating about your blood, better than any opium or wine or sexual perversion known to his lordship. It was the taste, something far superior to any other human Bam had laid his mouth on- sweeter than dark treacle and richer than custard, an exotic, tender savor only enhanced by the intoxicating aroma that clung to your hair and clothes- that titillating stench of death. Oh, and the way you fought. Your little struggles were so useless- so benign to Bam that they were cute, in the same way a mouse thinks it can escape the jaws of a python by squeaking. You were an absolute feast for the senses. If his mouth never left your neck and the only thing he did all day was to suck from you, he would be the happiest man in the world. Alas, you were both men with careers and people that would notice if they suddenly stopped appearing in public. But that could always change.

Maybe you weren't as sneaky about your drinking habits as you thought you were based on how often the Earl ordered your glass to be refilled. The longer the night went on, the more and more you felt that your inhibitions were slipping away until it was time to leave. Standing up, you were unsteady on your feet and wobbled a bit, lightheaded from the alcohol. Brandon rushed to your side, placing one hand on your waist and his other hand intertwining his fingers with yours to steady you. With how he was holding you so close to his body like one would hold a lover, it was some sort of instinct that led you to lean towards him, pressing your lips together. But he didn’t seem shocked that you kissed him- in fact, the Earl almost seemed pleased as you staggered backwards, flushed as the wine taste of his tongue still lingered on your lips. “Oh my…! I apologize for being so, uh- so forward, sir.” Hushing you softly, his voice was perfectly level as he spoke, taking a step towards you, “There’s no need to apologize, doctor.” Brandon’s gloved fingers met your chin as he gently tilted your head to get you to meet his gaze, “Let’s say this feeling is…mutual.” And he smiled at you- a smile you weren't sure was comforting or predatory. “Now, you should be getting home.”

Bam wanted to kiss you more- from your feet to the tips of your ears, he would worship your body if he got the chance. Delectable in every sense of the word, this doctor was just too good to be true, he thought. This pliant, innocent man was almost literally sticking out his neck to him. Your every action was so perfect, so delicate in the Earl’s eyes, and to put it simply, he was addicted to you. He could drain you completely- gulp down every last ounce of blood you had in you and dump your body in the river like all the others he’d had his fill of, but more than how sinfully delicious you tasted, Bam loved the game- the hunt. Watching you stumble over your own feet as you walked home from his high perch on the roof of the manor, peering out from where he sat on one of the flying buttresses that held up the roof of the manor, Bam licked his lips. You were fun to play with, what with how easily he could make you blush and stammer and just surrender with the slightest of efforts, and more so how you hadn’t a single inkling of suspicion as to how he could sway you so easily. The mingling of saliva and blood may be the highest form of connection in Bam’s eyes, but what he had with you superseded that. And you hadn’t a clue.

They had stopped talking to you at work. You didn’t pay much mind to the glares of the bitter murmurs of ‘lapdog’ and ‘lickfinger’ you caught in the halls of the hospital from people who were once your friends, but even your superiors were avoiding you like the plague. Still, you had bigger things to worry about- those bodies, namely, of whom you had started coming to a conclusion about. After nights in the library spent studying books upon books, there was this creature you had come upon- from China and India and Greece, the walking undead that feasted on the vital essence of human man. Moreso, those marks on the necks of the victims and yes, yours as well, matched up with the scars one may bear after an attack by one of those beasts.

With no more friends to speak of for arbitration, you received your summons in the post: you were needed at the Earl’s manor the next day as he had fallen ill with consumption in the two weeks since your last meeting. More than that, he had requested you by name. Clearly the situation must be dire, given his lordship’s distaste for hospitals and the fact many people see surgeons such as yourself as a last resort, saved for only the most grim circumstances. There was something in you that made you nervous at the thought of seeing him again that you couldn’t explain, like how a maiden may feel about seeing her suitor. Perhaps it was just nerves, or you were just unsure about being the sole person responsible for saving the life of such an influential, wealthy man. Perhaps.

If you thought the Margera Manor looked impressive from the bottom of the hill it sat on, you were absolutely gobsmacked when you looked at it head on, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought you were entering a cathedral, what with all the pointed windows and spires. Your steps echoed on the stone terrace as you looked around at the garden, now far less cheery as fall had stolen the green from the trees and plants, leaving them skeletons that were perfecting roosting places for crows whose loud caws made you jump as you went to knock. The front door was…unlocked, swinging open under your slight nudge. Dressed in the extent of protective garb with your leather bound medical kit in tow, you crept into the seemingly empty mansion and realized just how empty it felt without some party or dinner to fill the halls. Sure, the knives of this and masks of that the Earl had picked up in his travels still hung on the walls, and the opaline glass oil lamps in the hall were still lit, but there was something profoundly empty about the manor. Slowly walking the wooden staircase, past the large portrait paintings that hung on the walls, you made your way upstairs.

“Hello, sir…?” Slipping through the Earl’s bedroom door, you expected the worst of consumption- open sores, weeping lesions, coughing up blood mucus, etcetera, but even from across the room the worst symptom you could discern was a light sweat on his brow. Sure, he was deathly pale, but he was always that pale, and you recalled the darkness around his eyes as having been there from your first meeting. Lit only by the red silk lamp in the far corner of that room that smelled of clove and patchouli, he looked rather beautiful for a man, almost fragile- but nothing like the people on death’s door that you saw at the hospital. Brandon’s half lidded eyes met your and he coughed slightly, his voice raspy and weak, “Doctor.” Moving to his bedside, you placed your leather case of medical instruments on the nearby table next to a small stack of Penny-Dreadfuls that sat there and helped him to sit upright with your hands under his arms. “What sort of symptoms have you been experiencing as of late?” There was this odd feeling that came over you as you touched his bare torso that you couldn’t place as your eyes scanned over him, fixating on the strange design that sat low on his hips, right where the silk linens pooled around him- a tattoo of sorts? The swirling, dark ink was beautiful, drawing your eyes to his Apollo's belt.

“I am just…terribly famished.” Brandon sighed under your touch, and as you continued feeling his skin under your fingertips, that’s when you noticed something- he was cold. Deathly cold, and his body bore no evidence of the telltale wasting consumption brought on. Disturbed, your eyes went wide but you made no other mention of it as you reached into your bag and retrieved your stethoscope. Be professional. Tend to the patient. But as you pressed the circular end to the left side of the Earl’s chest, you were shocked to hear…nothing. The lack of mucus in his lungs did not shock you nearly as much as the complete absence of a heartbeat. The only sound in the room was Brandon’s soft breathing as he studied you, expectantly leaning over your hands as you worked. Watching. Waiting.

You doubted it at first. It seemed the stuff of fairytales, that the Earl could be something other than human, but it was all consistent with the lore you had been reading up on. Part of you was curious about him- after all, you dealt in the morbid, so it made sense for a scientific mind such as yourself to find his case fascinating. But on the other hand, it chilled you to the bone to know that this man you had been growing so close to, could be some sort of monster- some creature that delighted in feeding on the blood of men. You cursed yourself for not realizing this sort of thing sooner as a chill ran through your bones at the situation your trusting nature had gotten yourself into. Quivering, and against all your better judgment, you slowly looked up to meet his hungry, nearly salivating gaze.

And before you could think to react, he grabbed you by the shoulders and you were underneath him, back pressed against the bed. Heart nearly thumping out of your chest, your body was caged in, absolutely captured by the Earl’s as he leaned over you and in your mind there was absolutely no doubt of his intentions. Warm breath gracing your skin, his too sharp canines grazing against where sensitive nerves and thick, tender arteries run just below the skin felt so tantalizing, but Bam hesitated. Why aren't you fighting? In all his fantasies about this exact moment, you would be writhing about like a scared and wounded animal right about now, all squealing and wriggling and begging for him to oh please please spare you, but you were entirely willing, perfectly still and silent save for the swell of your breathing. However, the promise of satiating his hunger was just too alluring and he couldn’t not resist, sinking his teeth into you anyways. Your breath hitching in your throat, this foul, sweet smell rose up from where his fangs had visceraly penetrated you and Bam nearly moaned at the exquisite taste of the sanguine amber that trickled slow and thick from you. Hemorrhaging there, all tangled up in the red silk sheets of the Lord’s bed and, in addition, entirely sober, you couldn’t escape the realization that this actually felt somewhat…enjoyable. In fact, you really could get used to this. Eyes glazing over, you stifled a groan at the feeling of him flicking the tip of his tongue against one of the little dribbling slits as you began to teeter on that romantic, presyncopic border between consciousness and sleep, limbs tingling while you slowly drifted off into twilight.

You blinked awake in that very same four post baldachin bed with a distinct chill which you would come to attribute to the wide opened double doors of the Earl’s balcony. Long, white marquisette curtains billowed in the night as the moonlight cascaded in so brilliantly. Silhouetted by the moon’s opalescent glow, there he stood- naked and beautiful. Sensing your stirring, Bam turned toward you, the toned muscles of his back flexing as he studied your expression. Slowly, he approached where you lay, looking down at you with those piercing blue eyes as he stood at your bedside. “Ah, my prince is awake.” There was a distinct tone of amusement in his voice as he spoke to you with newfound affection. Sensing your apprehension as you looked up at him with those wide eyes, Bam sighed, reaching a hand out towards you in an empathetic gesture, “I’ve been in your shoes before, Y/N. I know exactly how you feel.” Gently, very gently, he caressed your cheek fondly as he mused. “You have…nothing. Life has no meaning anymore, does it?” You shook your head and the Earl smiled. “I can fix that.” Leaning down closer to you, he spoke low, in a voice as smooth as whiskey and just as sweet, “Would you like me to?” And you nodded.

[numericalbridge]

Title: Wounded Hearts

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: T/PG-13 (brief descriptions of blood and injury that are more intense than canon, but still on the level of a fantasy book aimed at teenagers)

Word count: 4195 

Main characters: Raine and Darius

Other characters: Belos, Eda, Lilith, Eberwolf, Alador, Katya, Amber and Derwin

Summary:

An AU confrontation between possessed Raine and Darius, and the aftermath. (written before the finale)

1.

The humming in their head, terrible and alien. The thudding of their boots on the castle’s floor. Their vision is tainted with sickly green…

As they lurch forward, helpless, just a marionette at the tyrant’s whims, they can almost feel those decomposing green tendrils infiltrating their mindscape, piercing the trees, leeching out their memories. They can almost hear the creaking and the splintering of their mind. Powerless to do anything. Trapped inside their own body. Helpless, again.

Yet they still try to fight. With every fiber of their being they try to stall, they pray that something, somebody will come and stop them. Stop it! In those jumbled first moments they almost succeeded – they almost managed to throw themselves and the terrible green monster inside them over the railing of a staircase, but at the last moment Belos had wrestled the control.

Oh, they can feel his disintegrating thoughts inside of their very being. He is not long for this world, and he knows it, and it makes him even more dangerous than before. Only now they, who have always prided themselves on their independence from the Emperor’s doctrine, are nothing more than his puppet. And everything is so terribly green, and the smell of the rot and the sound of his hateful thoughts hurt their mind.

“Just give up, go to sleep,” his voice inside their head lulls them, so patient and soothing. “You have nothing to fight for.”

“Fight and you’ll be punished.”

And maybe they would have considered giving up, perhaps if they were younger. Perhaps not, they were always stubborn. But Raine Whispers have gone so far, sacrificed so much. They won’t give up. It’s just so hard to think and stay aware…

“Raine!” They are in a narrow castle corridor, and Darius is in front of them, reaching out his hand towards them, palm up.

Belos stretches their mouth into a leering grimace. Darius’s eyes widen, he must realize that something is wrong.

Suddenly, a memory: Darius, standing just like this, eyes wide in surprise at their silly rebel banner. Darius, offended with their naiveté. Raine, teasing him for the whole week.

“Ah, Darius, my treacherous Coven Head,” Belos croons. Raine is fighting him again, but it is so hard. Why, why are they not strong enough? Never strong enough.

“Raine, come on, fight it!”

“Oh, they can’t hear you.” Raine feels their arm stretching, growing with disgusting creeks into a spiked limb. They feel eyes opening on it, confusing their senses.

No! Raine screams inside their head.

“Fight me again, and he will pay.”

“Raine, you can do it, you are stronger than him!” Darius is still reaching towards them, offering his hand, but his other arm has already transformed into the abomination scythe.

Do it. Stop him.

“Let’s end this,” Belos throws their body forward, surprisingly quick, and they clash together. Green mutated spiked limbs, the abomination scythe.

The fight is brutal. No time to be afraid. Raine tries to fight for control. He is distracted! They try to throw their body into the path of Darius’s attacks, but they are useless. No time to think. No plan. Only desperation and anger.

“Raine! We are the C.A.T.T.s, remember?” Darius’s voice cuts through the haze of their hopeless fury. “Now, listen to my voice, we can defeat him!”

Belos staggers back, and Raine feels their bones and muscles ache. Their breath is catching. Darius doesn’t seem to be able to fully transform — perhaps as the aftermath of the draining spell or the Collector’s influence — yet he is gaining the upper hand. Raine stares into his eyes — green and determined — and wills it: Do it, just do it. End this. I was always prepared. They hope he knows they would never blame him.

And suddenly, as their body stumbles, and the scythe is descending upon their head, the awful green tendrils retreat, and Raine gasps for air, able to move and fully feel again, their hands raising up to protect their head on instinct. They look up, and see Darius’s face contort in fear, as he throws his arm to the side, and the scythe whooshes past their ear, missing them by a hair.

Darius stares at them, panting with exhaustion, but tentatively putting his hand out again. He is starting to ask something, just as the green rot returns, its tendrils piercing Raine’s inner self, and Raine screams, and Belos roars with laughter inside their mind, as they lose control again.

And Darius makes a small, chocked sound.

One of Raine’s spiked arms is piercing through his shoulder. They can feel the shudders of his body as they pull him near.

“Oh, what happened?” Belos coos into Darius’s ear. “Couldn’t hurt your precious Songbird?” Raine can feel their arm twisting inside the wound. The rot twisting inside their memories. Belos smiles wide, “But, you know that in your place they wouldn’t have hesitated?”

He pushes Darius back, and Darius falls off the spike and onto the floor. He tries to get up, but another spike goes through one of his knees.

“Pathetic.”

Drip-drip-drip. Blood. Something inside Raine goes numb. Darius is trying to crawl away. There is a red trail. Belos is savoring his suffering.

“You really are terrified of me, aren’t you, Darius?”

Another memory. That time Eda had exploded pustule-berries across the cafeteria of the Hexside, and everyone got covered in sticky red pus. Darius’s face: Surprise-Disgust-Panic. Raine feels their mind starting to shut down.

“Should I make this quick?” Belos wonders, making their mouth pout. “Or should I do to you what I did to my previous grimwalker?”

Darius looks up, not comprehending. He isn’t trying to get away anymore, and just stares at them from the floor. Drip-drip-drip.

“I mean the previous Golden Guard,” Belos explains, patient like a school teacher talking down to a particularly dull student. “You know, in the end he was offering you in his stead, just to escape from the torture.”

“You, how dare you,” Darius snarls, trying to transform again.

“Yes, I killed the previous one,” Belos’s voice is bleeding with mirth. “But you’ve already suspected it, haven’t you? Oh, and I killed little Hunter too, just so you know. I possessed him, and crushed his annoying little bird with his own little hands, then, when the body wasn’t useful anymore, I drowned him in front of his worthless friends. And now I’ll kill you, and after that I shall destroy the other Coven Heads and the rest of these ungodly isles, and I’ll strip this body I wear to the bones before that, while they see and feel every single moment of it.”

Stop it!

“Are you going to cry now, Darius?”

“We are the C.A.T.T.s, remember?”

Never strong enough.

Darius is not crying. He is staring up at Belos — at them — with an almost childlike expression. Eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth trembling convulsively. Something behind those eyes fracturing irreparably. His whole body is shaking slightly, but he makes no move to fight or escape.

Belos takes his time approaching him, avoiding staining Raine’s boots with blood. Raine has to watch.

The creaking of the mindscape. Memories… they and Eda, in the forest clearing forever.

Raine’s arm is mutating into the spiked weapon again.

“But, if it is any consolation to you, Darius,” Belos’s voice is oh-so soft and so cruel, “I am just finishing what Raine wanted to do.”

2.

The sounds of the world around them are muted. The remnants of the rot are slowly leaving them. They hear soft murmurs of hushed conversations, Eda’s voice standing out even now. Raine blinks slowly. Their vision is blurry without their glasses. They stare at the high ceiling of the castle. The sensations are returning, and they can feel a dull ache all over their body.

Eda’s arm is around their shoulders, holding them close. They are half lying in her lap.

“You are safe now, safe.” “Breathe.”

Then, “He is gone now.”

“Dead? For real?” Raine croaks and cringes at how raspy their voice sounds. So different from the silky fakeness of Belos. Inside, Raine still feels numb. Drip-drip-drip.

“Yeah, for real,” Eda chuckles. “And the kiddos dealt with the Collector.”

Carefully, Raine turns their head. They see King, Luz, and their friends huddled in a group on the other side of the room. Hunter is with them too. Raine exhales in relief, though they can’t see his bird. There are other people around; Raine doesn’t even recognize all of them.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Eda assures them again. “And Amber, Katya and Derwin are safe too, they are with Steve helping everyone outside.”

“The children, are they alright?”

Eda sighs, “Physically at least… But you’ll need some patching up.”

“I’ll find somebody from the Healing Coven,” Lilith’s voice says from the side, and Lilith’s palisman crows in agreement.

Something to remember first. Why did they think about the bird? So much blood…

“Eda…” The memories are coming back. Not like Belos made them forget anything. No, they were there for every gruesome moment. They just went numb at some point, and the world turned hazy.

Raine sits up. Searches the castle hall with their eyes. Children, some adults. Vitimir and Mason. No Terra, good. And Eberwolf, looking around, his ears down in worry. He catches their glance and gives them a small wave. He isn’t rushing to bite their face off, so he doesn’t know yet.

Their heart races so badly, they nearly faint. “Darius?” they rasp.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Eda replies. “Maybe he is helping outside too.”

“No!” Raine clutches her arm. “No. Eber! Listen! The staircase near the East Wing, there is a small corridor where the old library used to be. Bring someone from the Healing Coven. Hurry!”

Eberwolf’s eyes widen, he nods and scurries away.

Raine falls back into Eda’s embrace. How much time has passed? Hours, at the least. With those wounds — gurgling, tearing, snapping — and without immediate help he can’t still be alive.

Everything is so muted. Voices. Feelings. They wish they could stay cold and hard-hearted forever. “They wouldn’t have hesitated.” Never mind their dreams of being gentle and soft, like before.

“Raine? Raine! Please, don’t space out!”

“Raine, please!” They think Eda is crying. “I’m here with you, it’s going to be alright… right?”

I really failed at everything. Failed as a rebel. Chose to fail as a teacher. Failed as a friend…

“Talk to me, please,” Eda begs.

Silly, silly Sprout, thought they were a hero.

Failed to protect Eda even, that’s why she is holding them with one arm.

They can’t talk. They lay in Eda’s embrace for what feels like hours, while the others leave to find their families or to offer help or just to rest, until suddenly in an explosion of the abomination matter Alador appears by Eda’s side. He looks even more disheveled than usual. Raine feels nauseated at the sight of him.

“I…” he blinks at the pair of them. His voice is shaky, “I wanted to say we found Darius. He is badly injured, the healers are working on him right now. I thought I’d tell you.”

“He’s alive?” Raine blurts out. How?

“Yes. Odalia, of all people, had found him and tried to give first aid.” Alador sighs. The shuffling of his boots irritates Raine’s ears. “Apparently, even she couldn’t just leave him to bleed out.”

Even she… “Just finishing what Raine wanted to do.” Raine feels something rising up in their chest. Why did it have to be Odalia? Alador’s shuffling is unbearable.

Raine braces themselves, gripping Eda’s hand. “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad, but…” Alador is avoiding their gaze, “I negotiated with the Healing Coven Head, so he should be fine, probably? They say she is the best, right?” Alador blurts it all out in one breath.

“What do you mean? Negotiated?” This can’t be good.

“Well, she won’t be investigated for what she and her coven did under the Belos’s rule, and…”

“And why do you think it was your place to negotiate with her?!” The numbness is replaced with cold, burning fury that threatens to choke them. That… that hack, who’s gleefully supplied the Empire with weapons, how dare he?

“Well, should I have just let Darius die?” Alador snaps back.

Or do you want your own crimes to not be investigated?

Agh, Raine stares at him, seething, searching his face to see if he blames them. Alador lowers his eyes to the floor, all awkward again. Raine wants him, or somebody, anybody, to hurt just as they hurt…

“Alador,” Eda offers, not unkindly, and for a moment Raine almost wants to hurt her too. “Maybe we’ll discuss all of this later? No one is in their right state of mind at the moment. Go check on your kids. King said they all will be at Hexside with Luz’s mom.”

Alador nods, shuffles some more, then finally leaves.

Raine stares at the empty space in front of them.

“Raine?”

“Eda, am I a bad person?” they want to ask, but they know Eda, and what she would say.

“Your ‘Bats’, your students were so worried about you,” Lilith’s voice suddenly interjects. Raine doesn’t even want to look at her. Why is she bringing up their students? “They love and respect you so much. You inspired them so… Even now they are helping others outside. I find it quite admirable… and envy it. Don’t just give up on yourself because of what Belos did.” Lilith then coughs, says the healers are on their way, and murmurs an excuse to leave.

“Oh, wow, that was wordy,” Eda muses. “But Lily’s right. Raine, you can’t let him, Belos, win. That monster would’ve wanted you to blame yourself and…”

“Oh, Eda,” Raine closes their eyes. They feel like crying, but the tears won’t come. Why are they so helpless? Would it ever get better? “Just hold me, please.”

3.

Darius wakes up slowly. Blinks. Stares at the inoffensive beige ceiling of the healing ward. His chest hurts, his whole body aches. He contemplates the insistent, dulled feeling of dread and sorrow. He closes his eyes. His eyelids are crusted, and everything feels gross. He opens his eyes again, unable to fall back into unconsciousness.

He remembers waking up in this ward before — Hettie’s sharp voice admonishing him, the nurses giving him potions and changing his bandages. Pain. Despair. He thinks he remembers Eber talking to him. Bitter taste of medicine on his tongue. Bitter taste of failure. This is the first time since the… injury… that he’s woken up almost completely clear-headed. Yet the feeling of vague terror mixed with helplessness is still there.

He remembers.

Failure, what a spectacular failure.

He turns his head. Eber is sleeping in a chair by his bed, his face scrunched up into a grimace, and ears down.

At least he is here, Darius thinks. At least he is alive. At least Darius is not alone.

Eber’s ears perk up, and he opens his eyes.

“You’re awake,” he chirps. “Want some water?”

This is the most lucid Darius has been in days, yet it takes him a moment to comprehend the beast-speak. He feels shamed. “Yes,” he manages a weak smile. The ache is pulsating through his body. “Thanks,” he adds.

He can barely move his arms, so Eber helps him drink.

“This is humiliating,” Darius complains.

Eber shrugs, “You're going to hate your stay here.”

“I know.”

Eber gives him a weird look. “You scared me.”

Darius turns his head away. Does he feel guilty? “What happened?” he asks.

Eber sighs, “Belos’s dead.”

Dead. Well, Darius supposes he wouldn’t be here otherwise, alive. Eyes burning cold blue on the wrong face. He gulps. His flesh tearing, red and wet… His less injured hand clenches into a fist.

“And the children pacified the Collector,” Eber adds quickly, the tone of his voice suddenly, deliberately upbeat. “Eda’s King and the human with her other friends. And Hunter was with them too.”

“He’s alright?” Darius is looking at Eber again. Of course that titan-damned bastard has lied. Darius’s shoulders sag in relief. Should he allow himself this feeling?

“Mostly alright,” Eber’s ears droop again. “Belos tried to possess and murder him, but the human’s mother, her name is Camila, saved him, and then his palisman sacrificed itself to heal him.”

“Oh.” The thought is cruel, yet for a moment he wonders: Even that little bird did more good.

Eber is eyeing him cautiously.

The failure is so bitter. If he allows himself to feel he will choke.

“Raine is fine too,” Eber offers carefully.

“Ah. Good.” Darius doesn’t know what else to say. He sees their face, contorted into an alien grimace. He pretends he doesn’t have time to think about it. “Well, I’m glad everyone got out of the mess.” Except for that little palisman…

Then Eber is blabbering on about the human’s mother, who is like a healer for beasts, and then some nonsense about Odalia helping him, and, then, of course, he moves on to Darius’s current condition.

Darius just nods along. That poor bird. Flesh tearing. Raine’s face leering over him. Powerless… He wishes he had his gloves.

Eber groans. Darius realizes he stopped talking.

Eber gives him another worried look. But why should Eber be worried? Darius was the one who failed to protect him, and Hunter, and everyone else… “We are the C.A.T.T.s, remember?” All his sacrifices, all the pain for nothing. The worst part is that he lowered his defenses just enough, softened himself just enough to make this sorrow unbearable.

Eber fidgets in his seat. “Are you alright?” his tone is almost tentative.

Darius blinks at him. He is so tired, and so bitter, and broken. A failure all around. And he has no strength to lie.

“No,” he chokes out, “I’m not.”

Eber stares at him for a moment. Then gingerly climbs onto the bed and carefully, gently, puts one paw on his arm.

“It’s ok, I’m not alright either. We can be not alright together.”

And suddenly Darius finds himself nodding, then his shoulders are shaking, and he finds himself crying. He can’t pretend anymore, and his carefully maintained facade is crumbling.

Eber hunches down, nose scrunched up, eyes and ears lowered, still gently holding onto his arm.

“How embarrassing,” Darius mutters. Just seeing Eber like this makes him want to banter to make him cheer up, despite everything. “Look how you made me cry. I’m all gross now.”

Eber raises his head, relaxing his posture a little, then reaches into his mane, and, to Darius’s astonishment, pulls out The Abomination – Darius’s favourite little abomination that he used for spying and sending secret messages. Eber plops it onto Darius’s chest, and it toddles up to his shoulder. Darius looks at it through tears. It creates a small handkerchief out of the abomination matter and tries to wipe Darius’s face with it. That’s just too much…

Darius is laughing through his tears.

“Eber, you absurd creature,” he groans. “Did you have to ruin my emotional moment with this ridiculousness?” He is still crying. While laughing. It is terrible. He can’t even move his hands well enough to cover his mouth. And it is probably not the right way to deal with this ‘outburst’.

Eber cocks his head to the side and chitters in a self-congratulating manner. The Abomination settles in the crook of Darius’s neck. It looks pleased with itself too. Darius was worried about it, after leaving it behind on the Day of Unity, so he is glad it is safe.

“I must look so undignified now,” Darius starts to complain, just to continue with the familiar banter, when Eber yelps and groans, looking in the direction of the ward’s door. Darius follows his gaze. His blood freezes.

Raine is standing in the open doorway.

Darius presses himself back into the pillow. No, not like this. Don’t want to be hurt like that ever again.

A familiar voice, “You are terrified of me, Darius, aren’t you?”

Gentle pressure on his arm, and an almost silent alarmed growl – Eber. The cool touch of the abomination matter on his neck. Darius gulps. He forces himself to look again.

Raine is just standing there, their eyes fixed on him with an unreadable expression. Their ears are drooping. They have scars on their face and neck now, and they are dressed in new, non-coven clothes that fit them badly. But their favourite earring is back, although there is a huge scratch on it. Darius focuses on the earring. It reminds him of something. Something that won’t hurt.

Eber groans again, in low tone, asking whether he is alright.

Then, yes, Darius remembers. The earring. There was paint on it. Red. Eda’s thoughtless little prank that left most of the Hexside’s cafeteria covered in that horrid substance. Darius had a meltdown because it was on his face, and his clothes, and his hands… Raine walked him to the bathroom and helped him clean, no questions asked. Their eyes weren’t so haunted back then.

Darius steels himself, then sighs and gingerly, slowly opens his palm, offering his free hand to them. Raine silently pulls up one of the chairs, sits down and takes his hand. They lower their head, and he can feel their hand shaking in his. They sit like that for a while, in silence. Only Eber is purring softly.

A loud bang of a door slamming somewhere and sounds of footsteps break the tentative peace. Three familiar faces of Katya, Derwin and Amber appear in the doorway.

Oh, no.

“Are we interrupting something?” Katya asks.

Eber chirps happily. He adores the B.A.T.T.s. Raine straightens up and smiles weakly at their students.

Darius makes a grimace, “What are you doing here?”

“We came to visit papa Darius,” Amber declares in the most annoyingly cheery voice possible.

“Don’t call me that!” Darius sputters.

“Well, there were other, worse alternatives we’ve considered,” Derwin explains.

“Ugh.”

“And we brought balloons, since Eber said they don’t allow flowers.”

“How nice, it’s a cat,” Raine offers. At least they don’t look so utterly beat down anymore, and some shaky mischief has returned to their eyes. You couldn’t protect them either.

Eber, meanwhile, looks way too pleased with himself.

“This is a cat, because we are the C.A.T.T.s, and this one is an abomination, for obvious reasons, and this one just looked cool, it has teeth and a tail,” Amber explains as Derwin and Katya wrestle the giant balloons into the room.

“I’m not twelve, you know it, right?” Darius grumbles. He just knows the B.A.T.T.s are playing it up to mess with him.

“You can be just as immature,” Eber growls, signing along for the others. “And the card?”

“Yes!” Katya shoves something into Darius’s face. “Look, we all signed it!”

Darius looks. It is indeed a large greeting card. On the violet background there are 'get well soon' wishes from Derwin, Katya and Amber, and a short one from Steve too. But also wishes from Eda and Luz (a drawing of an abomination with cat ears included), and underneath them a signature from Lilith. To Darius’s surprise there is also a rather formal, but lengthy message from Perry Porter, as well as wishes from Perry’s son, Hunter and the rest of the Emerald Entrails written in an absolutely horrid shade of green ink. Harmless green, though. There is also a scribble from Alador that uses their old inside joke and gives Darius way too much secondhand embarrassment.

“See? How cute!”

Darius feels… something. He looks at Eber’s smug face, then at Raine. Raine is still holding his hand. Darius wishes he was one of those people who can easily tell what emotions they are feeling. But, yes, he is crying again.

“Noo, already? You sap,” Eber grins, pressing his paws onto his arm in affection.

“It’s the medicine! That’s all,” Darius retorts. It is easy to fall back into their old bickering routine.

“I know! What we need is a group hug,” Katya suddenly declares.

“No! Wait!” Darius can just see three grown young adults, and probably Eber too, piling on top of him. He wouldn’t survive it. His body is all broken.

“Come on, Katya,” Raine interrupts, smiling their old smile, although there still an edge to it. “Darius is still healing. Don’t rush at him.”

“Ok then, maybe we can make it a very careful, very gentle group hug?” Amber proposes.

So they do a very soft, very gentle group hug. The Abomination nearly gets squished. Darius is completely overwhelmed. His body still aches all over. He is still not alright.

He looks at Raine, though, their hand still in his, and they share a glance, and there is a sudden, painful, silent understanding between the two of them. Because, yes, maybe they have failed, and maybe the pain would never go away, but there are still people in their lives who they care about and who care about them, and there are always bridges to build... And maybe for now it is enough.

[sleepymarmot]

Parasite (2019)

I watched Parasite years ago, hated it, but was too shy to write a proper review because of the film’s popularity. Recently something suddenly possessed me to finally put my thoughts into words, and I spent a couple of hours leafing through the film’s dialogue and recalling the opinions that had been waiting somewhere in the back of my mind, instead of doing something more normal and pleasant with my time on New Year’s Eve. Three weeks later, I discovered that exactly the same situation had happened two years ago: I had already posted about the film after all, and made the same points in a more concise way. Whoops! Well, I’m still posting the new review, because I don’t want the work to go to waste, and because it talks about other aspects of the film and gives credit where it’s due. It’s still pretty vitriolic, though, so you might want to skip this post if you’re a fan of the film. Major spoilers, obviously.

---

At the beginning of the film, I thought: “Aha! They’re setting up the poor family as leeching from the rich one, but then they’ll show how the rich are the real parasites!”

And then it... never happened.

Which is astonishing, because calling the rich “parasites” is a comparison as old as time. And yet, the film never offers large-scale critique of economic exploitation and never shows the rich family taking advantage of anyone on a personal scale. Sure, the film keeps telling us how unfair it is that some people are rich while others are poor (thank you for the groundbreaking message, never considered that before), but it’s not presented as the former actively exploiting the latter, and there is no parasitic imagery associated with the rich. On the other hand, the poor are compared to parasites over and over again. They want to leech off of you and are coming to kill you. They invite themselves into your home without your knowledge or consent. They live in unsanitary conditions and bring contamination (the real peach allergy/false tuberculosis accusation subplot) and uncleanliness (the used underwear, the smell, the mess after the secret party) into your home. They literally(!) live in your walls!

The film’s view of the poor is that they never stop to think about the morality of their actions; resent the rich but want to join their ranks; have no solidarity between themselves; delight at violating other people’s boundaries. How is this different from any other anti-poor sentiment about them being unrepentant predatory scammers who are reduced to animalistic fighting for survival and resources, and can’t be expected to have a moral compass? Why are the leftist viewers surprised that the rich love this film?

What are the progressive ideas that the film supposedly has? “Classes exist”? “Rich people live in comfort while poor people’s homes are small and vulnerable”? “Upward mobility is hard to achieve, especially in legal and ethical ways”? “Unemployment sucks”? “Nobody’s house should be literally flooded with shit”? Are these really deep insights deserving of an Oscar? Is the public so starved for class analysis that the mere acknowledgement of the class divide is enough to impress them, regardless of what the text actually says about the classes? Yes, this film has sleek cinematography, it has themes and motifs; obviously that alone makes it a cinematic masterpiece, regardless of what the message conveyed through these themes actually is!

And the contamination theme is strong, both on the physical (odors, filth, infection) and the social/psychological (invasion of privacy and sexual misconduct) levels. The fumes blowing into the poor family’s window. The promise not to hit on a high school girl, immediately broken. The worn panties, planted to falsely accuse the driver of 1) having sex in someone else’s car 2) in the owner’s seat 3) with someone not fully in charge of their mental faculties (so with dubious consent) 4) who might have left drugs in the car. (The first two points were the intention; the last two were extrapolated by the rich couple. By the way, wow, what a progressive plot point: a false sexual misconduct accusation made by a lower class woman out of greed!) Purposefully triggering someone’s serious allergy, then accusing her of having tuberculosis and knowingly subjecting everyone around, including a small child, to a risk of transmission. The father of the rich family explaining his position that he “can’t stand people who cross the line”, i.e. that he values maintaining boundaries and professional distance. Taking over the rich family’s home in their absence (going through their fridge, taking a bath, making a mess in their living room). Lying on the bed of a teenage girl you shouldn’t be dating, reading her diary to see what she says about you, giving it to your family to read, announcing your plan to enter the rich family through marriage with her. The bunker with its entrance hidden in the walls. The smell that “crosses the line”. The rich couple finally being the ones to violate a boundary by having sex in the presence of the poor family while fetishizing the lower-class scenario that previously scandalized them. The house flooded with sewage. The lingering smell of it. The rich father’s reaction to the smell that triggers the poor father’s murderous rage.

I can appreciate the artistry in that. (The Corruption is definitely this film’s patron — if there’s anyone I would recommend this film to, it’s this entity’s fans.) It’s a story that brilliantly depicts the visceral discomfort of one’s home being entered without permission or control and made unsafe, on several levels of severity: the main characters get access to the house in plain view of the owners but under false pretenses; the former housekeeper’s husband haunts the house and its owners for years; his safe hiding spot is seen and entered by the main characters; the main characters’ home is flooded and ruined along with the entire block. Three of these four are (rightfully) presented as sources of horror; the first one isn’t — and it’s the one that forms the basis of the entire film.

Parasite is a horror film about a home infiltrated by someone taking advantage of the owners, except it’s filmed from the perspective of the invaders. Well, first of all, I find it offensive that the film depicts inequality only to have the poor play the role of the heartless, violent aggressor. Secondly, “villain protagonist” wasn’t even the film’s actual framing, and 99% of the audience ended up praising it as an “eat the rich” movie and rooting for the poor family. Due to personal reasons, I automatically feel deep antipathy toward scammers who don’t care who they walk over, but it seems like that’s not what the director intended for the audience to feel. They don’t think twice before exploiting a serious allergy or a child’s trauma, which is impressively vile — but am I supposed to notice that, to treat these actions as something that has moral weight instead of a meaningless plot device? During the diary scenes, I felt visceral horror and revulsion that I would have counted as the film’s success were it a thriller about male misogynistic violence like Ex Machina or, since we’re on the topic of recent Korean international hits, The Handmaiden — but I’m not actually sure that the writer is on my side here. 

I’m not a child, I can watch a movie where everyone is an asshole, but: 1) not everyone here is an asshole equally: the poor family is significantly worse than the rich one; 2) I think it’s extremely tone-deaf at best to make a movie about class conflict where the poor characters are more amoral than the rich ones. The have-nots just loooove to exploit others, while the haves are too naïve to even protect themselves. Sure, their niceness fades away at the end as the rich scramble to help their own, not caring at all about the badly wounded young woman from the poor family — but the swift retribution comes not for that cold-hearted selfishness but, as the culmination of the film’s contamination theme, for the rich father’s instinctive act of plugging his nose. Because this film is all style over substance, and thematic consistency is more important than any coherent political message. If we take it as an “eat the rich” film, then we’re supposed to see “being economically privileged” and “not being used to unsanitary conditions to the point of being completely desensitized” as valid (and equally valid) reasons why the rich family deserves punishment. Neither of these have anything to do with the family’s agency and decisions: not being extremely poor is the family’s original sin, grave and unforgivable. Do I need to explain how I feel about the concept of original sin?

Speaking of the “rich family” being called rich — as opposed to the poor family, they obviously are, but in the grand scheme of things? Not so much. I’ve seen some popular posts in the past years talking about the difference between the billionaires and millionaires, those unimaginably rich and those who simply have high-paying jobs. Well, I don’t know what the South Korean standards are, but the “rich” family would correspond to, like, the upper middle class in the worldview I’m used to. (The father leads a tech company, but it doesn’t seem to be famous.) They have a fancy house, but not a mansion with acres of land; they have one car per adult; they hire staff for very reasonable jobs, especially the ones meant for the children of the family. Are you seriously going to tell me that something as ordinary as hiring a university student to prepare a high school student for exams counts as a rich spoiled people thing?! Are you, in the 21st century, telling me that it’s a woman’s duty to cook and clean for her family, so paying someone to do that in her stead is morally objectionable? Is she oppressing her dishwasher too, by not washing her plates by hand? Fellas, is it problematic to have a kitchen? How is any of that supposed to be seen as parasitic behavior comparable to, for example, preying on a teenage girl?

Perhaps the class divide in my country is wider than in South Korea, but from my perspective, the actual rich people own land that is measured in square kilometers, not square meters; yachts and jets, not just cars. If the criteria for being counted as “rich” are “currently employed, have disposable income and satisfactory living conditions, and are easy to take advantage of”, then that category includes me and my family, as well as, I suspect, many viewers celebrating the class warfare they see in this film. Furthermore, I am absolutely sure that the director at the time of making this movie was wealthier than his “rich” characters, and so are many of the film’s more famous fans. What an exercise in hypocrisy. One half of the audience celebrates when the blissful ignorance of the rich family is finally broken by the cathartic explosion of violence; yay, consider the rich eaten! The other half is satisfied because their prejudices are reinforced: the poor are cynical and greedy precisely because they are poor, they are aware and proud of it, but don’t worry — the same lack of human decency prevents them from developing class consciousness and organizing. You can sell this film to anyone! What a crowd-pleaser, what a commercial triumph.

What is this film’s genre supposed to be, by the way? Letterboxd says “Comedy/Drama/Thriller” and Wikipedia says “black comedy thriller”, which confuses me because I don’t remember noticing a single comedic or funny thing in it… perhaps it has humor that is understandable only for the Korean audience. I’m pretty sure I had seen it described as horror somewhere before viewing, and that influenced the way I approached it initially.

I thought the story had a lot of potential and strength as locational horror — a place haunted and corrupted by violence and injustice, imprinting misery on its inhabitants. Many people have compared this film with Us, which I haven’t seen yet, but I’m referring to something in between Candyman and Crimson Peak — both films that I value highly — perhaps not in a literal supernatural way, but metaphorically and psychologically. That is the perspective from which I was watching and enjoying Parasite at first. I thought that the child’s signs of trauma were evidence of his parents’ secret sins, hidden corruption behind the spotless façade of civility. That was the genre mode I was in. And I still think the kind of approach I described at the beginning of the paragraph would have resulted in a better story — especially if the film insists that none of the sides and classes in it are supposed to be sympathetic and everyone is tragically doomed to be a negative stereotype defined by their upbringing. But instead of that I would also have gladly taken someone to root for, or some positive character development, or a good take on greater scale social dynamics. As it stands, the film’s polished production (cinematography, set design, direction, acting), clever plot devices and evocative imagery are wasted on the nihilistic story and incoherent, largely conservative politics.

[tlacehualli]

“Just let me stay here by your side. That would be enough.”

The hacker's looking off that evening when she shows up at Angela's with nothing but half of a bottle of tequila and a plastic bag with the distinct smell of some sort of curry coming from it. She doesn't really have the spirit for mischief, having arrived at Angela's door with nothing but the influence of her AI's autopilot. Honestly, she's just tired, tired down to her bones - so when she reaches Angela's door, all she does is force the electronic lock open with a brute force password method that's entirely inelegant. She's haggard and her eyes are downcast even as she offers a little wave and a wan smile

It's been a couple days since Sombra left the Talon base at this point, particularly and uniquely burdened with knowledge. One of the Widow's functions was supposed to be executed approximately three or so years at this point if her calculations were correct (and when it came to all things pertaining to Widow's code, she tended to be). Clearly they weren't. She couldn't figure out the mathematics of it, which numbers she needed to change and how much - didn't know how to quantify in numbers the psychological influence she had on the Widow.

It was hard to square that off for her. She's never killed anybody, she never really planned to (although for Moira, she was more than willing to break that little rule). She's been waiting for that shoe to drop every moment since, in a way. Honestly it fucking haunted her but it didn't subsume her other trains of thought until around this time. How kind of the more primitive, emotional parts of her mind to give this particular date such a special meaning. If she was perfectly frank with herself, it was also hard to look at the Widow right around that time - not that she blamed her for executing code as written. Shit, she was impressed her friend even possessed the ability to fight it in any way. It was herself that was the problem. She hadn't been looking at the Widow but she hadn't looked at herself in the eyes in the mirror either.

Honestly the biggest barrier in communication between the two of them right now at this point in her psychological journey was the fact Angela was so hung up on Ami. Wasn't enough money in the world to make Sombra wanna open her mouth and share the fact it was just about any day now that she would be dead by her hand. So, she didn't - just went about in the kitchen fetching plates, spoons, and napkins to set up on the table along with containers of food from the local Indian place. There's biryani, palak paneer, tikka masala, plenty of naan - and it would go mostly to Sombra if Angela didn't dig in heartily. At least she's got a big appetite even if she's quieter, fielding the doctor's inquiries with short, clearly AI inspired answers whilst the rest of her mind was a million miles away.

Still distracted, she sets about to pick up dishes and cutlery and goes to put them away - then lays a hand on Angela's shoulder in passing to tell her she's gonna pop out for a smoke (it's winter and frigid as her own heart out there but she still runs warm and the cold doesn't bother her as much as it should). The little ritual serves multiple purposes - quietens the war in her mind, the loudness of every thought, the way her emotions still rage when she's so, so tired.

Nothing really shakes her from her reverie for a while. Not Angela opening the door after a couple minutes, not the way she settles next to the shorter woman leaning against the wall close enough for their shoulders to touch, not even the arm that came to pull her tighter against the older woman's taller frame. Offering warmth or leeching it? Maybe just sharing. It's not until Angela speaks that the present time finally pierces through the fog and she's aware suddenly that she's not alone. Not anymore. Maybe not for a long while now. "Just let me stay here by your side. That would be enough." Sombra looks at her in the eyes and blinks rapidly and kind of laughs but in a way that sounds strained as if she's trying not to make some other sound that's more honest. "I appreciate it. Lo siento, I probably scared the shit out of you." Her eyes end up elsewhere and she's just staring off into the cold, not even a shiver crawling up her spine as her processing burns away at the cold. "I just have a lot of shit on my mind. Family shit." It wasn't entirely a lie so it didn't taste as bitter escaping her - still hard to look her in the eyes and say it, though. Half-truths she reserved for those closest. "Gracias, angel. That sounds just right."