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knifedancer · 6 months

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Winds of Change - Bittersweet Ending

You've selected the BITTERSWEET ENDING!

Trigger Warning: major character death, implied possibility of suicide.

Go Back | Dark | Salt | Hope

~~~~~~~

~~~ Felix POV: 10 Years Later ~~~

Felix limped through the graveyard towards the familiar tree on the nearby hill. The wind rustled through the grass and whipped up the fallen leaves that crunched beneath his cane. He paused to tuck some longer strands of blond hair behind his ear, closing his eyes as he took in the peaceful stillness that exuded from this place. Releasing a sigh, he closed the distance to the lone headstone and bench beneath the shade of the tree; settling down in a way that would lessen the muscle stiffness that lingered from his old injury. Tikki solemnly drifted from his jacket pocket to rest upon the cold stone, paying her silent respects.

He let his gaze stray over the hilltop and down the embankment covered in marble markers before dragging them back to the one directly in front of him. “It’s been ten years now,” he declared quietly. “It still feels like yesterday when we lost you. I still struggle to put into words how big of a hole you have left in my—no, our lives, to express the sheer guilt I hold for your death…”

“Felix, it’s not your fault—” the red kwami murmured softly.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his now damp eyes, “I know it isn’t my fault, Tikki, but I wish I had known…I could have shared the burden!” Taking a shaky breath, he readdressed the letters carved into the surface. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there enough for you. I know you don’t blame me. The years haven’t made your loss any easier, but it has improved. I try not to let the past haunt me…sometimes I can’t help it.” Felix allowed his mind to drift as he stared off, delving into those sensitive memories once more.

~~~ Flashback ~~~

By the time the storm broke, Marinette had not regained consciousness, however her breathing had evened out and color had started to return to her face. Tikki’s healing ability took care of the life-threatening injuries and had stabilized her Chosen. There was still concern about the loss of consciousness and obvious concussion. Would there be brain damage? She would need to be watched for any behavioral changes or sudden mood swings. Could the heal factor even assist with cognitive impairments? So much was unknown.

He replaced the vest and slung her satchel over one shoulder, making sure the peacock miraculous was firmly attached to the inside lining of his pocket. Now came the hard part. Carefully maneuvering her limp body gently through the opening of his amok shelter, he breathed a sigh of relief when Marinette’s head cleared the narrowed entry. Most of the shed had been blown away by the winds once the roof caved in, making it only small enough for one person to exit at a time. Recalling the amok would have simply left the timbers to fall down onto the two teens. Placing her back into a bridal hold, the blond gripped the designer’s body tightly to make sure he would not drop her as he pieced his way through the debris. Looking around, he saw residents beginning to emerge from their homes and digging through wreckage for lost items or people. The sky was ridiculously clear – if it were not for the large pools of flood water and blown down branches, not a single cloud in the sky belied the storm that had just raged.

He looked over at Duusu, “Do you have enough power for one more transformation? I want to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Master! I can probably hold it for at least five minutes,” she chirped.

“Perfect. Duusu, spread my feathers!” The purple light washed over him once again, leaving Argos holding an unconscious Marinette. Immediately his miraculous beeped its initial warning and he turned to Tikki. “Hide in my hood for now, we’ll get you both into the satchel when we arrive.” The ladybug kwami hurried to hide and nuzzled herself into the crook of his neck, the warm pressure seemed to lessen the exhaustion he was feeling. Magenta eyes turned steely with resolve; he launched himself onto the nearest roof, glancing about for landmarks made him realize how far off course the two had been blown. Another beep, three minutes.

Argos made quick work of locating a still operational hospital and his transformation made travel quick, the peacock holder just hoped that he was not jarring the bluenette with each leap. Even with his flashy outfit, not many people were looking upwards and, for those that had, they would only see a brief blur as he sprinted past. His miraculous beeped again, two minutes. He stopped on the edge of a rooftop of an apartment building and looked into the neighboring alleyway: it was clear of debris, water, and people. Perfect. He hopped down and whispered his detransformation phrase, seeing a weary peacock kwami settle on the ground from the corner of his eye, her energy spent. Immediately he felt each small bruise and wound on his skin, but Marinette’s weight in his arms refocused his thoughts upon the task at hand. “Tikki, help Duusu into the satchel. Stay quiet. I’ll try to get you both a snack once we’ve gotten checked in.”

The moment Felix was sure the two were settled, he briskly walked out of the alley and down a couple storefronts to the emergency entrance. It was packed with people, but a triage nurse spied the head wound of his ward and flagged him over to one of only a few open stretchers. He assisted the nurse in cleaning and holding Marinette’s head so they could wrap the wound. However, when he tried to settle her into a lying position, he felt a tug that prevented him from standing straight. The blond glanced down to find a pale hand gripping one edge of his vest; the unconscious girl’s face pinched in pain. Unable to dislodge or remove those fingers, Felix sighed before guiding his body onto the hard bed and around her. The nurse came back by with an emergency blanket, only raising a brow at the two cuddling teens before rushing off again. He could hear the two kwami giggling at his predicament but, seeing the lines on her forehead smooth and body relax with his proximity, he suddenly couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Don’t complain when I’m not the blond you were expecting, Dotty,” he whispered in her ear while pulling her close under the blanket.

It had taken a good twenty-four hours before Marinette awoke and she was far too weak to try to move. Once they had cleared the air over her other identity – the subsequent panic attack was heavily muted by her concussion, preventing her from a full doom spiral – he had worked tirelessly to get in touch with her family. Her phone was trashed and waterlogged, her mind a jumble of pain, so he called Adrien. The model had helped contact their parents and insisted on flying Marinette back on Gabriel’s private jet. By the time the plane was ready, and Adrien had convinced his bodyguard to visit, the two had finally been cleared for release.

Unfortunately, Felix also got to meet Lila Rossi. The snake had wrapped herself around the model’s arm and insisted on visiting her ‘dear classmate.’ If his cousin had noticed how unusually protective the peacock holder was, always making sure to stand between Marinette and Rossi, never leaving them alone – though she certainly had tried – and refusing to leave the injured teen’s side…Adrien never mentioned it. After what the Fathom heir had learned from the bluenette and her kwami, he wasn’t willing to take any chances. Even without that information, he got a strange vibe from the Italian that told him she was definitely bad news. Felix had quickly decided to become the ladybug wielder’s permanent protector – even if that meant putting himself in the line of fire for his uncle’s attacks. He resolved to create a disguised sentimonster lapel pin for Marinette to wear so he could know of her current wellbeing without putting her directly in danger with Argos’ constant presence.

However, when they arrived back in France, the young designer’s concussion healed as expected and she was not the one whose behaviors were of concern. Adrien had begun acting strangely. He distanced himself from his friends, fencing teammates, and even his girlfriend; instead choosing to spend more time with Rossi. Felix could see the strain around the model’s eyes each time the liar wrapped herself around him possessively. He had approached the other blond privately, trying to figure out what was going on, but his cousin smiled sadly and simply said:

“…I’m doing what I have to, Fe.”

Meanwhile, Chat Noir started to appear less and less during fights. He could feel the strain on the bug heroine with each battle and started to assist from the shadows as much as he could while trying to keep his connection with the team under wraps. Argos couldn’t afford to accidentally lead Monarch to Ladybug. When the cat-themed hero did appear, the atmosphere was strained between the ying-yang miraculous holders. There was a massive imbalance in their dynamics! Chat tried to be chummy with Argos but, due to the nature of the secret alliance, it was difficult to form any sort of bond. Once they had recovered a few other Miraculi, Argos began strategizing with Ladybug over new allies.

“I trust you, Argos, to choose wise and strong holders.” The bug heroine’s words had left him being inordinately warm in a way that he had only felt with his mother before. Trusted, welcome, considered, camaraderie…now he felt ridiculous for how in denial he had been at the time.

You see, through the lapel pin and his own miraculous powers, the peacock holder could feel that the pain Marinette experienced was growing with each passing day. Deciding to be proactive against a possible akumatization, Argos took to secretly spending time with the young designer in hopes of alleviating some of those pent-up negative emotions. It started only on days when her feelings were at their highest, then a scheduled couple of days a week, and finally almost every evening was spent either in her room or on her small balcony. He would detransform and they would discuss her latest designs or book he was reading, sometimes opening up about themselves. The taciturn blond began to look forward to their time together, even the companionable silences where only the whirring of her sewing machine and the crinkle of pages filled the air. Over time, Felix realized he was developing a crush on Marinette but kept it to himself, unwilling to be the homewrecker in his cousin’s relationship. Their friendship was more important.

Then the night he feared most came to pass. There was such emotional upheaval in all of Paris, Felix was sure there would have been another Scarlett Moth incident had it not been for Uncle Gabriel’s fashion show related absence. As he struggled to process the tidal wave of emotional input crashing into him, the chain on his neck turned ice cold and began to aggressively vibrate against his chest. Something was horribly wrong with Marinette! His transformation words were out of his mouth as he leaped from his window, furiously pushing himself to be faster and not caring if anyone saw him as Argos soared over rooftops. Any images of him from that night only show a purple blur as he had rushed to her in a panic.

‘I’m coming, Dotty! Please wait for me!’

He could see her precariously leaning back against her railing and, for a moment, he was afraid she was going to fall. Then her phone slipped from her grasp, knees trembling as tears rolled down her extremely pale face, and his senses went haywire as she went into a full-blown meltdown. Then he feared it would be more of a jump than an accident. Argos landed just in time to catch her as Marinette’s knees collapsed, pressing her face into his chest to quiet the ear-piercing, heart-rendering, screeching sobs that wracked her small frame. Just the noise alone felt like a hundred daggers impaling his heart. He wrapped his whole body around her, trying to make her feel safe and protected. Argos scanned the rooftop for anything that might have caused her distress, his eyes landing on the dim phone screen displaying an image that made his blood boil…

There was Adrien, clinging to some unknown redhead in a revealing dress and shoving his tongue down her throat on a secluded hotel balcony. The headline read:

EXCLUSIVE: ADRIEN AGRESTE OFF THE MARKET?

ROMANTIC DATE BECOMES HEATED NIGHTTIME TRYST!

He stared at the phone in anger until the screen went black. ‘I can’t do anything about that now…’ He dropped his gaze to the bluenette in his arms, hearing her painful sobs slowly turning to hoarse whispers. ‘She’s my priority.’ Tikki appeared from the attic room below, worried eyes flicked from her holder to the hatch before the little red goddess returned from whence she came. Argos was always amazed at the immense connection that Marinette had with every kwami, especially her own, as they seemed to feel the most intense affection for the young Guardian. Even Duusu seemed to favor the blue-eyed girl over Felix; although he suspected that was more for the berry tartlets the bakers’ daughter fed her than anything else. And now that same ladybug kwami – that had looked at him so defiantly in that shed all those months ago – trusted him with the safety of her most precious Chosen. To be trusted by the Goddess of Creation was a high honor for a betrayer, such as he, to earn. Looking back down to the tear-stained teen in his arms, he wondered if that meant he had finally earned the bluenette’s trust as well…

Argos waited until Marinette’s sobs died out and became soft snores, having worn herself out from crying, before carefully picking her up bridal style and taking her back to her room. The chain around his neck remained cold but was no longer buzzing, hopefully the worst was now over. He tucked her under her covers, brushing hair away from her eyes, as the two rescued kwami snuggled into the crook of the Guardian’s neck to comfort her. Tikki floated beside him, sorrowful eyes affixed upon her holder. Unable to help himself, Argos leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her brow. ‘Rest well, my sweet Dotty.’

“I assume an akuma did not appear because Monarch is not in the vicinity, correct?”

Argos glanced at the tiny goddess before returning his gaze to the slumbering girl, “You know I cannot answer that without ensuring my demise.”

“We need to know his identity to end this war, to allow all Parisians to feel emotions as raw as what she went through tonight without the fear of being possessed!” Tikki’s frustration was palpable from the venom in her voice. “She could have been akumatized!”

“I made a deal with him, one that I cannot break—”

The goddess cut him off with a swift and commanding “No!” that seemed to resonate in his very bones. How could he forget that Creation was just as terrifying as its counterpart? Argos trembled looking into her big doe eyes, now filled with rage and a touch of deviousness. “Argos and Felix cannot break the deal…”

Magenta eyes widened with realization, “…but a different hero can!” He quickly detransformed and motioned Duusu and Tikki toward the pink chaise where he settled, that night the three plotted quietly.

With a touch of acting during the next akuma fight and some help from Tikki, the new hero Phénix was born! In one fell swoop, Felix was freed from suspicion – due to Guardian-induced amnesia – and Argos was no more. Marinette reintroduced herself to Felix several weeks later, a new student that struggled with gaps in his memory and whose forgotten previous actions made him an instant outcast with his new peers. Their friendship was instantaneous and stronger than steel. He provided the young designer with solid alibis for her absences – since Ladybug was always with Phénix in battle – and shielded her against any bullying attempts. It also helped that the looks of jealousy and pain his cousin shot the amnesiac blond from the front row fueled his internalized malicious glee. Marinette’s mental health and emotional state slowly improved, Felix’s soul surged with happiness as he watched her heart heal. When the time was right, Phénix was the one to reveal Monarch’s identity.

Having seen the way Ladybug’s bluebell eyes burned with vengeful rage – a sight that made his heart race at her Valkyric beauty – the peacock holder was suddenly very glad he had done so during a moment of relative safety: just after defeating Monsieur Pigeon for the hundredth time. At least Monarch would not be able to akumatize the heroine until he could recharge. Not that the resulting akuma would actually do the villain’s bidding…but Phénix did not know how he would ever get such a glorious, wrathful goddess back under control.

Oh, he had heard of Chat Blanc’s rampage after Hawkmoth was Cataclysmed in another timeline. It was during one of their post-patrol, heart-to-heart chats after her heartbreak. He recalled the painful conversation with absolute clarity…

“Maybe I’m not supposed to find love until after Monarch is defeated,” Ladybug sighed into the Parisian air from atop the Montparnasse Tower late one night.

He refused to acknowledge his aching heart dropping in his chest, “Why do you say that, LB?”

Phénix felt the terrifying fear rolling off her in waves, her stare unfocused upon the stars as if waiting for something. When nothing came, her shoulders relaxed incrementally and her voice came out in a soft whisper, “There’s a future hero named Bunnyx, her power is over Time. In the past, I’ve been called upon to undo the mistakes of future Ladybugs that caused worldwide destruction, erasing the entire timeline, and leaving only the two of us with the memories. The first time it happened…”

As the words tumbled out of her, so too came tears over the absolute horrors she had witnessed. Suddenly he understood the weight that hung over her, that leeched into her troubled civilian life, and saw the shattered young woman in totality. Guilt for his part in that weighed heavily on his heart. Holding her close that night on the tower, the peacock hero swore he would end her suffering – this Miraculous War – once and for all. When the inevitable butterfly appeared floating towards them on the horizon, attracted by her negative emotions, Phénix deftly wielded the yo-yo to capture it while Ladybug was in no state to. The instinct was inherent but the stars of adoration in her eyes when he returned to her side made it all worth it.

The final battle was planned over many weeks, meticulous in detail and cautious in scope, and new allies trained in the Miraculous. One a weather-obsessed akuma victim from their school who was passionate for revenge and the other a stoic boy he had previously observed as Argos helping injured citizens to shelters in the battle zones. After hearing about Blanc and the black cat’s increasing absence, Felix argued to bench Chat Noir in the final fight. Marinette refused to be cowed, “We started this fight together, we will end it together. End of discussion!”

The fight itself was long and arduous, requiring a power-up to elongate their transformation times. The team was sporting a multitude of injuries by the time most of the Miraculous were stripped from Monarch’s hands. Chat had surprised them both by fighting with a vicious seriousness they had never seen before. In the end, Phénix stripped the last brooch from the fallen villain and stood over an unconscious Gabriel Agreste. Ladybug cast the cure to heal their wounds, some would have been life-threatening if left untreated for much longer. Their relief and joy erupted in cheers from their newest members, Kobra and Huntress. Even Phénix, his Miraculous beeping a two minute warning as he recalled his amok, shared a warm smile of victory with the bug heroine a couple meters away as she held out a fist for their final celebratory fist-bump. Emotions were high and the peacock hero was exhausted enough that the sensory input felt like static to his fried senses. The other three holders pulled themselves up and began to make their way across the room…

That’s when disaster struck. It all happened so fast. A furious Gabriel, inadvertently healed by the Cure, pulled a sword from his cane and sliced the back of Phénix’s leg as he rose to his feet. The wounded peacock cried out and fell to the floor, barely hearing the frantic call of 'Phénix!', clutching at his bloodied limb in an attempt to staunch the flow. With a blood thirsty scream, the villain then charged at the heroine, aiming to skewer her through the heart. The spotted girl had turned towards the sound but didn’t have time to dodge, Phénix’s eyes widened as he reached out a hand as if to grab her away from his spot on the floor. Kobra and Huntress were frozen in shock, nowhere close enough to respond in time. A blur of black shot forward and pushed Ladybug out of the way with a bruising shoulder check…only to reveal an impaled Chat Noir, sword through his chest, glaring down Gabriel’s self-perceived triumph.

Blood bubbled up from his throat and dribbled down his chin as he spitefully called one word, “Cataclysm.” Within seconds, the disgraced designer turned to dust before their very eyes. Then the cat hero dropped to his knees, hands shakily cupping the sword in his chest as he struggled to breathe.

Ladybug screamed and rushed to his side, carefully angling her partner into her lap as tears rolled down her face. “No! Chat…the Cure…I can’t…Why did you…” Phénix dragged himself closer, desperate to comfort her as the jagged edges of her emotions ripped across his mind like shrapnel.

The hero smiled painfully and grabbed one of her hands, words coming out between wet coughs, “I couldn’t let him hurt you, Milady. I’m sorry I was gone so much. I had to keep my father from figuring out the Black Cat was beneath his roof…”

Ladybug gasped as the information filtered through her consciousness, Phénix choked on a cry. Adrien was Chat Noir! He must have figured out who Monarch was and had been dancing to Gabriel’s fiddle to keep him from discovering his secret identity, from gaining another advantage over the team. No wonder Chat had tried to be so friendly! Then Phénix recalled the sorrowful smile his cousin had given him months earlier as tears slid down the peacock’s cheeks, “You idiot. Why didn’t you tell me?” Chat’s pain filled eyes turned towards him just as the brooch’s transformation gave out, revealing a bloody and grief-stricken Felix.

“Fe…?” The cat hero’s smile rivaled the sun even as his other hand trembled while reaching out. Felix grabbed it, their blood mingling between his bare palm and Chat’s hex leather. “Of course, it was you all along…” The coughs were getting wetter and his green irises began to dull. “Keep…my girls…s-safe. Tell M-Mari…I’m s-sorry…”

Ladybug’s sobs echoed in the chamber as Chat turned to look up at her one last time. His voice was fading slowly now, barely a murmur but the smile stayed on his face regardless. “Don’t…be s-sad, this c-cat had a great ni-nine lives. I’ll…always b-be wi-with…you…”

With his last breath, his transformation fell away to reveal a dead Adrien Agreste and a passed out black cat kwami. That night they had also found the remains of Emilie Agreste, making the final battle even more tragic as the entire Agreste family was wiped out almost overnight. With the help of Guardian Su-Han, they found a way to revert the miraculous to their former glory and returned them to the Miracle Box…but they could not celebrate. The cost was so high… It was a bittersweet, pyrrhic victory.

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Tikki cleared her throat, jostling him from his thoughts. Tracing the headstone lettering with his eyes as he wiped away a few rogue tears.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

ADRIEN ÉMILE GABRIEL DONATIEN ATHANASE AGRESTE

CUT DOWN TOO SOON

BELOVED SON, COUSIN, NEPHEW, AND FRIEND

YOU’LL ALWAYS BE OUR HERO

SEP 12, 20XX – JUN 27, 20XX

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit the last few years; a lot has happened. There was an investigation by the Justice League into the heroes of Paris, not that any remain active. Batman tried to convince the new mayor to set up some sort of spotlight that would have a ladybug on it? Bizarre, to be sure. Rossi was arrested after trying to break into the mansion for something…we think she was after the Grimore, perhaps hoping we left a Miraculous behind.” Felix pressed his lips together in a grim line at the thought.

“Plagg did curse her with bad luck, though!” The little red goddess giggled.

He was all too glad when the little cheese gremlin recovered from the loss of his holder but how Adrien had ever put up with his constant hunger complaints was beyond Felix. The blond chuckled, “It did make all the good luck we had to spread after that worth it when she tripped while walking up the courthouse steps! I thought only Mari could be that clumsy!” He smiled softly towards the grave once again, “There’s also a few more members of the family you should meet—"

A small happy cry of “Daddy!” interrupted his words, he turned just in time to catch a three-year-old blond girl and hoist her into his lap for some tickles. Felix smiled lovingly down into her pale green eyes that reminded them so much of her namesake, letting her hands tug at his tie as she giggled uncontrollably. “Andrea Athena Amelie Fathom, where is your mother?”

“Daddy! Sh-shtop! Sh-she’s…with B-Bennie!” Andrea managed to stutter out between laughs.

“Felix! Are you torturing your little golden chick again?” A playful singsong voice called from the path meandering up the embankment, bringing his tickle attack to a standstill as his beloved wife joined him at his side.

“Now, my dearest Dotty, what makes you think I would torture our precious princess?” He arched up slightly to retrieve a kiss before sitting back on the bench.

Marinette had grown a bit after high school, doffing the pigtails for a braided bun now that her hair had grown past her shoulders. Her eyes remained that alluring color of bluebells that sparkled whenever she laughed. However, gone was the gangly teen, replaced by a refined beauty with hourglass curves any woman would die for. He had spent so many years scaring off riffraff attempting to flirt with her while she was grieving her fallen partner. He was over the moon when the gorgeous woman he had called his friend had asked him on a date in university!

Their subsequent engagement came fairly quickly after that, Felix having known she was the only one for him since that fateful trip to China. However, Plagg was apparently very protective of every one of his Kittens, no matter how brief their stint with his ring. The tiny God of Destruction had given him quite the shovel talk, but it was Sass’s quiet ‘what he sssaid, but timesss a thousssand’ comment that had been nightmare inducing. Gazing into the smiling eyes of his wife now, all he could think was: ‘Worth it.’

“Mm hmm, like I believe that, Feathers…” Marinette grinned down at her husband, both hands full – one with a baby and the other juggling a bag and a bouquet of flowers.

“Andrea, why don’t you go help Mummy with those heavy flowers, hmm?” The little blond nodded eagerly and hopped off his lap to assist, he outstretched his hands towards his wife with a little ‘gimme’ motion. “Let me take Bennie, my dear. I know you want to clean the grave and that will be hard with our wiggling little beastie in your arms. Looks like he’s ready for his nap.”

His wife acquiesced with a smile, handing over their youngest before settling down on her knees to brush the dirty and dead grass blades away from the grave marker. Benedict ‘Bennie’ Manton Sabin Fathom was a one-year-old with the personality of a cat – affectionate wiggle butt one minute, stoic grub the next. His dark hair and blue eyes came straight from his mother, but the attitude was all Felix, at least according to Grandma Amelie. Andrea was planned, her name a fitting memorial for their fallen Chat. Bennie was a surprise from a second honeymoon that they had taken for their vow renewal. Felix adored both of his children, finding any excuse to hold or play with them and never let his cane get in the way. He knew his wife was open to the possibility of more little scamps in the future, should her fashion career permit it. Felix was perfectly fine being a stay-at-home trophy husband.

“Mummy, what are you doing?” Andrea questioned innocently; her face mostly obscured by the large bouquet held in both arms.

“I’m cleaning Uncle Adrien’s grave, Love. He was Daddy’s cousin and Mummy’s very best friend growing up.”

“But why?” The tiny blond’s words sounded a little whiny as well as curious, the older blond noted it might be time for her naptime as well.

Settling a sleepy Bennie into the crook of his neck, Felix watched two of his favorite ladies trim the weeds away, wiping down the stone with a rag and water bottle, and exchanging the flowers in the memorial vase for the bouquet. “Because it’s important to Mummy and Daddy. We want Uncle Adrien to know we remember him.” Taking a stone bowl from her shoulder bag, his wife set it before the grave and placed a few small paper objects inside before using a match to light them on fire. As the contents burned to ash, Marinette proceeded to light a couple sticks of incense and place them in a small groove in the tombstone base specifically designed just for such a thing while saying a short prayer.

Andrea watched with interest, absorbing the actions like a sponge. “Mummy…do you think Uncle would want some company?”

The older bluenette smiled, “Awful lonely way up here. I bet he would, why?”

Hesitantly, the little girl pulled out a small black cat plush keychain she always kept in her pocket and held it up, “…Would he like Mr. Whiskers?”

“Are you sure, Sweetie?” Felix and his wife exchanged a concerned look, their daughter never parted with the cat. However, Andrea just nodded and hummed an affirmative.

Tikki floated down to rest on the blond child’s head, nuzzling into the waves with a smile, “I think that’s a delightful idea, Little Bug! I’m sure Plagg would be happy to cuddle with you if you ever miss Mr. Whiskers!” Taking a cue from her mother, Andrea placed the little cat against the upright stone and tightly pressed her hands together to give a little prayer.

“That was very kind of you, Andrea. We’re very proud of you.” Marinette gently pet their daughter’s hair, “How about we go get a bit of ice cream on the way home? Uncle Adrien loved ice cream.”

Those must have been the magic words as she perked up with an ecstatic ‘OKAY!’ as the little girl followed a floating Tikki back to the car. His wife rose to her feet and dusted off her knees before gathering her things. “We wish you were here, Kitty. I know you would love the kids and being an uncle. We’ll be back around your birthday with Plagg next time. I know he misses you.” Pressing a kiss to her fingers, she then let them linger on the top of the tombstone with a sad smile.

“You know, he’s probably haunting us right now…” Felix joked softly so as not to wake the baby.

“Oh stop!” Marinette quietly chastised her husband, shaking her head at his antics. “What possible unfinished business could he have to be a ghost?”

“Well, we both know he would have liked to have made far more cat puns than he had the chance to,” his words made her scoff, but her eyes were laughing.

“Come on, give me Bennie so I can take him back to the car. Say your goodbyes, my love.” Carefully transferring the slumbering boy, she gave Felix a quick kiss before heading back down the hill. He watched her go with a soft smile.

“I’ve been taking care of our girl, just like you told me to, Adrien. She’s…they’re my whole world.” The blond pulled himself back onto his feet, balancing his weight with his cane as he rested a hand on top of the marker. “I hope I’ve done you proud. Give my regards to Aunt Emilie.”

As Felix slowly limped back to the car, he paused halfway to glance back up to that lonely grave on the hilltop. Only one plot was taken, but there was room for two more when the time came. Knowing a bit about the blessings of the Miracle Box upon his wife and their family, he knew that day would not be any time soon. “Cat-tch you later, cousin, and…thank you.”

~~~~~~~

Go Back | Dark | Salt | Hope

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lilies-and-forget-me-nots · 1 year

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Protagonist Select

— An apple has fallen from far away. It seems like the flow of fate has changed with it.

-> Start game?

-> Load Save (Haunted Dark Bridal Prologue)

#navigation #pinned

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chestnut-trotter · 10 days

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Diabolik Lovers PSVita Emulation

This is a tutorial on how to emulate and play on your own the following Diabolik Lovers titles:

Diabolik Lovers Haunted Dark Bridal - Limited V Edition (with fan-translated english patch)

Diabolik Lovers More Blood - Limited V Edition (with fan-translated english patch)

Diabolik Lovers Vandead Carnival

Diabolik Lovers Dark Fate

Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade

Diabolik Lovers Lost Eden

Before we start, the first thing you'll need is something to emulate these games on. If you have one already, great!! For those who don't, I reccomend you use Vita3k. Download it here: https://vita3k.org

Unzip the vita3k folder you just downloaded (If you don't have a program to do this, I reccommend WinRAR. [just download it, no need to buy it] But I'm sure any will do)

Open the Vita3k.exe file to install it

Follow the installation instructions

When prompted to install firmware and font files please do so, don't skip by pressing next. You can find them here: firmware and font.

Select the install button for each, and then select said files from your downloads when prompted.

Click next when you have installed both. On the next page, click next again after selecting settings and preferences.

Now close Vita3k down and reopen it again.

You are ready to install some Dialover games XD

(if you run into any issues just DM me via either tumblr or discord)

NoPayStation has the PKG for all the above games.

Select the game you wish to download (click the name, it should open a pop-up window)

Then download the PKG file

Keep this pop-up window open, you'll need it for later.

Once done, in Vita3k, click file > install .pkg. Then select it what you just downloaded.

It will ask to verfiy the PKG, so you can select either work.bin OR zRIF.

If you chose work.bin: download the work.bin file from the game's pop-up in NoPayStation. then select it when prompted in Vita3k.

If you chose zRIF: copy the zRIF key from the popup window from before. (make sure you select the whole thing, it's quite long). Paste the key where prompted to in Vita3k.

The game should now install (if it hovers around 60-70% for a while don't stress)

Now, if you're installing either HDB or MB, keep reading, otherwise, you should be good to play the game :)

Here are the english patch links for both games: HDB english patch link MB english patch link

Inside Vita3k, right-click on the game you just installed, press Open folder > Application > data. Now replace the GAME.cpk with the one you just downloaded. (it has the english translation in it)

Close Vita3k again, then reopen it.

You are now ready to play Diabolik Lovers

Gatekeepers of the english fan-translation patch be damned. If Daisuke Iwasaki won't release an offical english version of Diabolik Lovers (and a Chinese one instead apparently 😭) then I'm emulating his damn game. I've bought a bunch of offical merch anyway, not like I haven't supported the company lol.

Happy gaming my fellow vampire enthusiasts :3

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yukikurosu123 · 9 months

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(unpopular opinion) A Defense of Diabolik Lovers: 3

determined to persevere and make the best out of nothing. The same comments that degrade and mock her are the same comments that whine or fetishise the DL boys to death. There are studies on how optimistic people are more resilient to stress and other factors that are associated with being a hazard to mental health. Yui never gave up on looking for the positive in a sea full of negatives, and I think that’s why she survived. It sounds cheesy, but it’s why her mental health didn’t deteriorate and why she was able to make decisions that ultimately helped in her favor. If you want to see Yui’s best display of her strengths and patience, I think Yuma and Kou’s More Blood routes are the best examples :)

4. Additionally, I wanted to note the anime was only a promo for the fans of the game originally. It’s not that hard to see why it received so much hatred when it first debuted in 2013 as even the company Rejet said they didn’t want to localize the game because they knew western audiences would likely hate on the series if it came to light which they were right about. Before it was an anime, Diabolik Lovers was a dummy head drama CD series by Japanese company Rejet. The intent of the series was to target a very niche demographic of masochistic girls with their first release. After the drama CD’s exploded in popularity in Japan, Rejet decided to make it into an otome game a year later. The first release into the series was a PSP otome game called Diabolik Lovers- Haunted Dark Bridal- they eventually also made it into an anime one year later. Crunchyroll unfortunately translated it for the US and that’s when it catched the curious attention of the West. As Rejet predicted with their localization of the game, it got negatively review bombed and even scoring multiple 1s on MAL. However, there are some plausible reasons why the anime is so horrible, as someone who has actually played it, I can argue why the games are so much more better than the anime adaptation. The game system the otome game series is known for is the Do-S game system, after you select which boy you wish to choose the route for, you get a status menu that displays three things: The “Blood Sucking Love Meter”, your S meter and M meter, understandably in my opinion, that means that unlike in the anime where she doesn’t have much of a backbone or much of a choice, you can actually make choices for her to talk back to them lightly, while you’d still get your blood sucked, but it’s still much different than the anime how she reacts or replies back. Not to mention by taking away the context of the game, the anime adaptation is a total mess. You have the choice to believe or not, but there is an actual solid plot line in the games. And in some twisted sense - there’s actually romance, even though it would depend on what you would consider as “romance” of course the kind of romance they depict in the games are not all roses and petals but there are still some nuance of it. For example, take the famous scene among the anime fans of Ayato drowning into a pool while eventually having flashbacks of his mother doing that to him during childhood - after a while, he “saves” her and her sucks her blood. But in the game, this happens after they have some kind of affection for each other. And he kisses her instead of sucking her blood unlike in the anime. The main difference between the scene in the game and the scene in the anime is their relationship. In the beginning of the otome, Yui knows that her blood is valuable to them so she makes an ultimatum, she tells them that she has the right to pick who gets to suck her blood. But in the anime, she doesn’t chooses this at all, it’s basically a free-for-all situation. Going back to talking about the Ayato drowning Yui into a pool scene, although they have barely started knowing each other in the anime, they’ve already established some sort of twisted dark romantic relationship in the otome game. The timeline in the otome game makes the scene much less confusing for the player. The DL game series is character-focused, when you select a route for a character, the route is split into three sections— “Dark, Manic and Ecstasy”. Dark is the chunk of the game where Yui is tormented and tortured by the LI of your choice, Maniac is when it begins to have some kind of ‘dere dere’ going on and Ecstasy is when they begin to have some mutual insanity for each other. The pool scene where Ayato drowns her into a pool is during a scenario of the ecstasy section— but in the anime, it acts as if it’s still in the Dark section. In the game, Yui is able to one step by another, become accustomed to their twisted Do-S character, and she also finds herself romantically drawn to them. The story is also different for each LI depending on the route, a

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Hi! A silly question (´ε ｀) but I wanted to know your opinion, why do you think Ayayui is so popular in the fandom?

1. The anime

2. Ayato being the poster boy of the franchise (e.g. He's featured on pretty much every game cover and the limited V edition of Haunted Dark Bridal is literally AyaYui art)

3. If you started with HDB, Ayato is the first character you run into and considering the game forces you to choose one of the triplets as your first route, I think a good chunk of people picked Ayato first. (The selection screen defaults to him as well)

#answered ask

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers Survey 2020 Results

This year I got 138 responses in total, which is close to double the number I got in 2019 (74 responses) so a big thank you to all of you for taking part and for those who helped to promote it! Now onto the results:

Question 1. Who is your favorite DL character?

1. Subaru Sakamaki (18 votes) (3rd in CL poll, joint 4th in 2019 survey) 2. Shu Sakamaki (16 votes) (1st in CL poll, 1st in 2019 survey) 3. Ruki Mukami (13 votes) (4th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 4. Laito Sakamaki (12 votes) (8th in CL poll, 10th in 2019 survey) 5. Ayato Sakamaki (11 votes) (2nd in CL poll, 3rd in 2019 survey) 6. Reiji Sakamaki (10 votes) (9th in CL poll, 2nd in 2019 survey) 6. Carla Tsukinami (10 votes) (11th in CL poll, 4th in 2019 survey) 6. Kanato Sakamaki (10 votes) (6th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 9. Azusa Mukami (8 votes) (12th in CL poll, 13th in 2019 survey) 9. Yui Komori (8 votes) (7th in CL poll, no votes in 2019 survey) 11. Yuma Mukami (7 votes) (10th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 12. Shin Tsukinami (6 votes) (14th in CL poll, joint 11th in 2019 survey) 13. Kino (3 votes) (13th in CL poll, joint 11th in 2019 survey) 14. Kou Mukami (1 vote) (5th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 14. Richter (1 votes) (did not feature in CL poll, no votes in 2019 survey)

Note: 3 people said they didn’t have a favorite character and 1 person skipped the question. Karlheinz, Beatrix, Cordelia, Christa and Yuri were all available options but they did not receive any votes. I’ve included where they came in the CL poll (the most recent official popularity poll) to show how the results compare. Below you can also see how the voting breaks down compared to the 2019 survey.

While I was a little surprised that Subaru managed to dethrone Shu as the fandom’s overall favorite, I was not surprised by him, Shu, Ruki and Ayato all featuring in the top 5 considering their rankings in the CL poll. Laito also managed to sneak his way in there but considering that he was the winner of the 2018 survey, that wasn’t much of a surprise to me either.

The thing that I really don’t understand is what on Earth happened with Kou. Up until 24 hours before the survey closed, he didn’t have a single vote (lone Kou fan, thank you for stepping up), despite doing pretty well in the CL poll and the 2019 survey. If anyone has any theories on where all the Kou fans have gone then let me know because I am baffled.

Anyway, onto the rest of the survey, because this post is extremely long, I’ve put the rest below the cut.

Question 2. Who is your least favorite diaboy?

1. Kanato Sakamaki (42 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 2. No least favorite (15 votes) (2nd option in 2019 survey) 3. Kino (14 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 4. Ruki Mukami (12 votes) (joint 6th in 2019 survey) 5. Ayato Sakamaki (10 votes) (4th in 2019 survey) 6. Carla Tsukinami (9 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 7. Reiji Sakamaki (7 votes) (joint 6th in 2019 survey) 8. Shin Tsukinami (6 votes) (joint 6th in the 2019 survey) 8. Azusa Mukami (6 votes) (joint 10th in 2019 survey) 10. Shu Sakamaki (5 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 11. Kou Mukami (3 votes) (5th in 2019 survey) 11. Laito Sakamaki (3 votes) (9th in 2019 survey) 11. Yuma Mukami (3 votes) (joint 10th in 2019 survey) 14. Subaru Sakamaki (2 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey)

Note: I discounted one vote for Subaru on this question, as the participant had also voted for him as their favorite character so I assumed they misunderstood this question.

Every single year I’ve done this, Kanato has come first in this category by a massive margin and (while I will admit he’s my own least favorite) I am still no closer to understanding why he gets so many votes. If anyone does have any theories then do let me know.

Other than that, Kino’s placement certainly isn’t a surprise given his place in the 2019 survey and that he was the villain in all of the other characters LE routes, which I suspect has not endeared him to many. I do find it interesting that Ruki and Ayato (who did well in the popularity poll) were also in the top 5 for this question.

I also wasn’t expecting Shu, golden boy of the fandom, to actually rank higher than some of the other characters in this question and to only have one less vote than Shin (who is considerably less popular and did some fairly deplorable things in the other character’s DF routes).

Question 3. What is your favorite type of DL media?

1. The games 60 votes (1st in 2019 survey) 2. The drama CDs 46 votes (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. The character songs 9 votes (3rd in 2019 survey) 3. The merch (e.g. plushies, badges, straps etc) 9 votes (4th in 2019 survey) 5. The anime 8 votes (5th in 2019 survey) 5. The manga 6 votes (6th in 2019 survey)

I don’t really think there’s much to comment on with this one, the results are pretty similar to last year and given that the drama CDs and the games collectively provide most of the story content for DL, it’s not at all surprising that they’re the fan favorites.

Question 4. If you have played and/or read translations for the games, which is your favorite?

1. Dark Fate (39 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 2. Haunted Dark Bridal (27 votes) (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. More Blood (13 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 4. Vandead Carnival (10 votes) (7th in 2019 survey) 5. Lost Eden 8 votes (5th in 2019 survey) 6. Chaos Lineage 8 votes (4th in 2019 survey) 7. Lunatic Parade 6 votes (6th in 2019 survey) Note: 20 people said they had not played the games or read translations of them.

DF, HDB and MB all remain as the top 3 games of franchise. I was a bit surprised to see VC jump up so much though, although I know some more translations for it have been posted recently, and a game being translated will always help to boost it’s popularity within the fandom.

Question 5. If you have listened to and/or read translations of the drama CDs, which set of CDs includes your favorite?

1. Bonus CDs (19 votes) (4th in 2019 survey) 2. Para-Selene (18 votes) (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. Bloody Bouquet (14 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 4. Zero (13 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 5. The original do-s vampire CDs (11 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 6. More Blood do-s vampire (8 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 7. Verus II (7 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 8. More, More Blood (6 votes) (not an option in the 2019 survey) 9. Dark Fate (4 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 9. Born To Die (4 votes) (joint 9th in 2019 survey) 11. Verus I (3 votes) (joint 9th in 2019 survey) 12. Eternal Blood (2 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 13. Versus III (1 vote) (joint 8th in 2019 survey) 13. Versus IV (1 vote) (no votes in 2019 survey) 13. Chaos Lineage (1 vote) (joint 8th in 2019 survey) Note: the Lost Eden CDs (joint 8th in the 2019 survey) did not receive any votes and 26 people said they had not listened to or read translations of the drama CDs, 6 more than those who had not played or read translations of the games.

I was pretty surprised to see the Bloody Bouquet CDs bumped down to third place considering that they won far and away in the 2018 and 2019 surveys, especially with the Zero CDs coming so close behind them. Para-Selene (my own personal favorite set of drama CDs) is still a fan favorite, and while I know many people enjoy the bonus CDs, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see them take the top spot.

In terms of other things to note, I do find it interesting that the Eternal Blood CDs (which feature the Mukamis) are less popular than the Born To Die CDs (which feature the Tsukinamis and Kino), considering that in this survey, the Mukami brothers got more votes combined than the Tsukinamis + Kino, and I’m pretty sure all of the Eternal Blood CDs have been translated, while to my knowledge, no English translations exist for the BTD CDs (although you can find a summary of Shin’s on this blog), so I would have expected this to be the other way around.

Question 6. How long have you been interested in DL?

1. More than 4 years but less than 6 years (55 votes) 2. More than 2 years but less than 4 years (26 votes) 3. More than 6 years but less than 8 years (15 votes) 4. Up to six months (9 votes) 5. Over 8 years (7 votes) 6. More than 6 months but less than 1 year (6 votes) 7. Less than 1 month (2 votes) Note: 6 people said they couldn’t remember how long they’d been interested in DL for.

It seems the majority of us have been here for years (truly, there is no escaping diahell) but it was nice to see so many newcomers to the fandom take part this year, especially as we haven’t really had that much new content.

I mentioned this in the 2019 survey results post but I do wonder whether the release of the MB anime (a little over 5 years ago), may have some correlation with a large chunk of the fandom (or at least the portion that took part in this survey) being into the series for between 4-6 years.

Question 7. If you answered the survey I did last year, have any of your choices changed since then?

Note: Multiple options could be selected here.

My favorite character has changed: 21 votes

My least favorite diaboy has changed: 17 votes

My favorite DL game has changed: 9 votes

My favorite drama CD has changed: 18 votes

There were definitely more changes this year compared to last year (although given the much larger sample size, that’s to be expected), but it does seem most are fairly firm in their favorites.

Question 8. If you purchased one of the More, More Blood CDs, which version did you get?

Deluxe edition: 7 votes (5.22%)

Regular edition: 4 votes (2.99%)

Deluxe edition from Animate: 7 votes (5.22%)

Deluxe edition from Stellaworth: 2 votes (1.49%)

Deluxe edition of the same CD from Animate & Stellaworth: 3 votes (2.24%)

Multiple MMB CDs (some regular, some deluxe): 5 votes (3.73%)

Did not buy any of the MMB CDs: 106 votes (79.10%)

Note: 4 people skipped this question.

I mostly asked this question because I was curious as to how many people bought the deluxe edition versus the normal edition, especially as after listening to Shin’s (and from the comments I saw online) I feel like you really need the bonus CD you get with the deluxe edition to nicely wrap up the story.

I was sort of expecting most people to go for the deluxe edition, as I think if you’re ordering your favorite's CD, you’re going to want the maximum content with them possible, even if it does come with a bigger price tag.

As for why so many people went for the Animate bonus over the Stellaworth bonus, I imagine this was because Animate has an international online store (although I think whether you can actually get the bonus drama CDs from them is variable) while Stellaworth only ships in Japan, which means if you order from them, you have to use a proxy service which really hikes up the price.

Question 9. Out of the following things released within the last year, which has been your favorite?

1. 4-panel More, More Blood comics (28 votes) 1. Winter of Lovers merch (28 votes) 3. More, More Blood CDs (24 votes) 4. Masquerade Jewel merch (18 votes) 5. My Melody collaboration merch (15 votes) 6. Other (14 votes) 7. Merch from Rejet 2020 Fes (10 votes) Note: 1 person skipped this question.

I thought for sure the More, More Blood CDs would win this one but I seriously underestimated just how popular the More, More Blood comics and merch lines were. I suppose given that the bonus drama CDs came first in the Drama CD category and the MMB comics are much in the same vein (as in they both contain humorous content), it isn’t that much of a surprise, especially as the comics are posted online and are therefore much more accessible to international fans than the drama CDs.

As for the merch lines, Winter of Lovers is the most recently released set, so it may be possible that this is partially responsible for it’s popularity (i.e. it’s the merch line freshest in people’s minds).

Question 10. Which of the upcoming DL releases are you the most excited for?

1. Young Blood manga (64 votes) 2. Daylight CDs (25 votes) 3. Releases that have yet to be announced (20 votes) 4. Count Off (9th anniversary song) (7 votes) Note: 22 people went for the “Can’t choose/ Not excited for any of these” option.

The Young Blood manga won here by a massive margin, which is pretty interesting considering that the DL manga ranked lowest in question 3. That being said though I suspect this manga will be more popular than the others as it should give us more of the boys’ backstories.

I’ve seen several people hoping for the unannounced release (that we should find out more about April) to be a new game. Personally I’m not super convinced that’s going to be the case as new game announcements tend to be done at Otomate party (as was the case with CL in 2018), which is scheduled for July. However, I do admit that I think a new game would be a really good way to celebrate DL’s tenth anniversary (which is coming up December next year), so I don’t think it’s completely outside of the realms of possibility that we may get another game at some point.

Either way I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens in April.

And that’s it for the 2020 survey. Again, thanks to everyone who took part, I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on the results, was there anything that surprised you?

#long post #dl survey 2020 #dl survey results #Diabolik Lovers #own post #Shu Sakamaki #Reiji Sakamaki #Ayato Sakamaki #Laito Sakamaki #Kanato Sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki #Kino #Ruki Mukami #Kou Mukami #Yuma Mukami #Azusa Mukami #Shin Tsukinami #Carla Tsukinami #I have tried to proofread this but it's such a long post so please forgive any mistakes

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crystalsexarch · 4 years

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Foibles - E

“You’re asking for realism in a book about...about relations with a specter?”

“It has yet to provoke a real reaction from me, in any case.”

Explicit. Specific male WoL. Florian Loudin. The Warrior of Light struggles to enjoy a tawdry tale, and instead enlists the help of Haurchefant.

Also on AO3.

Part of the 2020 FFXIV Writing Challenge

Haurchefant Greystone had a book in his hand and a man in his lap. The man, one Florian Loudin, held a book of his own: Unholy Hauntings. They were cuddled up on a couch by the window in Haurchefant's private quarters at Camp Dragonhead. A cozy place, if not sparsely decorated. Bed here, fire there, reports littering the desk. Boots by the door—two pairs this time, wet from a walk in the snow. Light specks still melted soundlessly on the glass. And the Warrior of Light, despite the incredibly intellectual material he parsed, was getting awfully distracted.

"Pray, dear Haurchefant," he said, slipping one leg off the couch. His hips sat at Haurchefant's side, like he'd been dropped upon him bridal style. "Tell me what you are reading."

Whatever it was, Haurchefant snapped it shut with a snicker. "Haven't you a tawdry tale of your own?"

"Not tawdry enough, I say." Florian was never particularly good at reading. He loved tales, but the telling of them had to be particular. As a student, he always preferred lectures to assigned reading, but he hadn't been a good student. Things he could touch, taste, and toy with held his attention much better. A motivation he held between his lips as he prodded his companion further. "This manuscript," he said, dangling the book by its spine. "It wants for realism."

“Let me see it, then…” He set his own book aside and plucked Florian’s selection from his loose grip. The Dragoon tapped his foot and smiled, watching Haurchefant’s expression blossom into delighted disgust. “Realism?” he said. “You’re asking for realism in a book about...about relations with a specter?”

“It has yet to provoke a real reaction from me, in any case.”

Haurchefant laughed into the pages, forehead to front cover. “Where did you even get this?”

“I don’t know.” His icy eyes glowed with fondness. “A brother of yours. Came highly recommended.”

The laughter grew and Florian, with a silent smile, watched in wonder. Moments of brightness like that made his scars fade faster. He was convinced. Eventually, Haurchefant pulled his arm out from behind the Warrior’s neck and wiped his eyes. Sighing, he handed the book back. “Truly, the world is a mysterious place. Of course...if I am reading you correctly, you have something to ask of me, do you not?”

“I’ve already asked you, in so many words.”

“Ah, forgive me.” He raised his hand and let his fingers uncurl. “Perhaps I’m not so versed in subtlety as...as the mind behind Unholy Hauntings.” He doubled over again and started laughing.

The scars grew ever lighter. Though he wasn’t normally one to interrupt the wondrous sounds of the natural world—songbirds, singing creeks, laughing bastards—Florian cleared his throat and rose like a military grunt called to attention. “Haurchefant!” he said. “I sampled this book expecting stimulation I have yet to receive. Thus, I approach you asking for the same thing.”

Haurchefant raised an eyebrow and let his laugh come to a natural end. “All right, settle down soldier. I hear you loud and clear.” He eased Florian back to a sitting position by grabbing his hands, then grazing a few key areas almost accidentally. A touch of the inner thigh, a slight squeeze of his chest, and...a not-so-inconspicuous palm of his crotch. “Say, I’ve an idea, though.”

“Well, I’m all ears.”

Camp Dragonhead’s keeper rose and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Why don’t you take your tale and direct your gaze toward the window? I think we may yet find a way to make the Haunting, if not holier, at least more productive.”

When Haurchefant returned, he instructed Florian to divest himself of his bottoms, lean over the windowsill, and find a scene in Hauntings that almost bordered on compelling. “I...I can see where this is going,” the Warrior said, flipping through. “I’ll admit I haven’t progressed very far. And what I read I didn’t much retain.”

Haurchefant leaned over, balancing himself on Florian’s ass. “What’s that earmarked there?”

“Ah.” A flutter of pages ensued. “Ah, well. It’s certainly one of those scenes.”

“Excellent. Begin reading then. Out loud.”

“Ahem. Er...” Florian traced a line or two with his finger. “The...the castle’s keeper checked once more—”

Haurchefant’s wet finger traced a line from Florian’s balls to his entrance, where he gingerly pressed.

“Ah! No warnings, then?”

“You’ve had your warnings.” He kept his eyes pointed at his index finger, at the tensing muscle beneath it. “Keep reading.”

“Very well.” He cleared his throat again and leaned forward, spread his thighs a bit more. “The castle’s keeper checked once more...the halls for prying...eyes…”

Now a thumb pressed hard at the base of his spine. It was an anchor for Haurchefant’s circling fingers, too consistent, too gentle.

“Before returning to his quarters and...r-raising his robes…”

Haurchefant watched with rapturous attention as his lover tried to squirm back onto his hand. He wanted to give him what he wanted, but not before he worked for it. Circles, more circles before anything entered anything else...no matter how ready Haurchefant was to push his own heat in.

“Already the Presence...felt closer.” Laughing lightly, Florian let his head fall. “The Presence...how ridiculous.”

Haurchefant lifted his hand. “Is that what the text says?”

“Oh, hardly. Erm…where was I...”

As Florian searched for his place, Haurchefant undid his trousers, let his erection spring free, and applied more lube to his fingers. He again approached, knowing his patience would quarrel with desire.

The Warrior had his sentence. “Thus the keeper’s eyes fluttered to a close in—”

One finger pressed inside and stretched each way. Florian winced and tensed around it, gasping. Haurchefant’s eyelids hung heavy.

“In anticipation. Something not unlike…”

Looming, the knight squeezed the Warrior’s ass with his spare hand and probed deeper.

“Not unlike a hand crept...closer to his..his hole...t-t-t--”

“You’ll have to say it.” He pressed harder and pulled back, curling, setting a rhythm.

“Teasingly. Teasingly slow. Tanta...tanta...tanta…”

A dark chuckle. “What in Halone’s name is ‘tanta?’”

Florian flattened his arms and let his head drop, laughing. “Absolutely nothing. Nothing.”

“Tanta what?”

“Tanta--”

“What?”

Liquid leaked from Florian’s tip. He shivered with his face pressed against the cold wood of the window. “Tantalizingly...cold...and plenty wet...Seven Hells, add another, won’t you?”

“He says that, then?”

“No, I do.” His breaths moved his whole body. At each exhale, he’d bob and tighten around Haurchefant’s now unmoving finger, a tactile plea. He would offer verbal ones, too. “Haurchefant,” he said, craning back with lusty eyes, half hidden by a smear of blond bangs. “Haurchefant, please.”

With a grin, Haurchefant prodded with a second finger. “Back to your book, then.”

Florian exhaled and found his place on the page. “He throbbed with cursed want, afraid and aroused…gods that’s it...”

Now with two fingers he worked, wide-eyed. He’d remember this image forever—the shuddering Warrior of Light arching his back as a bead of precum dripped from his tip to the fabric of the couch. It was such a beautiful gift, he rewarded Florian with an unsolicited addition. Three fingers, all wet and welcomed easily.

“Yes...yes that…” He panted and oriented himself. “By the sinful creature he’d invited into his…”

“Florian…”

“Into his bedroom and…”

“Florian, how shall I have you?”

“And into his body.” The book fell to the floor. “Just have me.”

Out with the fingers. Now, Haurchefant slicked himself before sliding all the way into his lover, every ilm at once. Florian’s fingers twitched and stretched. Hot breath fogged the cool glass of the window in little gasps. Pleasure like that could only be holy, Haurchefant thought, trying to hold it together. There was so much he wanted to touch—arms, neck, back, ass, everywhere—but to begin he put both hands on the back of the couch and spread his legs, testing the angle with bent knees.

Florian arched even more and mouthed out sounds of pleasure. Good thing his companion had bigger concerns than storytelling now, he thought. Words would never make it out. He could hardly breathe past his desire. Could only articulate a fraction of his feelings.

Haurchefant, meanwhile, was silent. His upper body hardly moved; he was a well oiled machine of a man, seating himself deeply enough, precisely enough to bring pleasure-tears to the Warrior’s eyes. He buried his face in Florian’s hair and savored the sweat of his lover, thinking about how good he looked always—but especially with a long cock driving into him.

Singing, Florian shot a hand down to his own member and mirrored Haurchefant’s rhythm with his fingers. “Sorry,” he said, barely. “The couch.”

A husky voice answer at his ear. “I want you to come. Don’t care where.”

He beat his spare fist on the wood and forced Haurchefant deeper, deeper still until he felt so tense he thought he would pop at the seams. Instead, he crumpled and released a thick stream of cum onto the cushions, crooning. Before he had a chance to breathe, hands swept over his chest and held him steady, held him still. Held him in just the right place. Florian waited with unsteady eyes, knowing wet heat would fill him soon.

When it did, he sighed with pleasure, even as he twitched with oversensitivity. He let the man he loved bend him back onto his dick until both of them were more than satisfied. Neither of them moved for a while.

Well,” Haurchefant said, voice as weak as a whisper. “I, for one, think it’s a pretty good book.”

#haurchefant #ffxivwrite2020 #ff14 fanfic #ffxiv fanfic #mywriting

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fruit-of-infidelity · 1 year

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♱ DIABOLIK LOVERS: Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sakamaki Shuu | Selection ♱

Shuu: Huh? You’re choosing me? Geez…

Yui: ( Something about this guy… Even though he seems out of it, it’s because of that very reason that I feel like I made the right choice. )

Reiji: I suppose I oughtn't be surprised that you made such an uneducated decision when it was forced upon you like this. Although, him?

Good grief…

Ryuuto: Good grief, indeed.

Shuu: Run your mouth as much as you want, just keep it down…

But I guess when a free meal comes wandering into the lion’s den like this, the rest of the pack’s bound to get a little restless, huh?

Ayato: Che. I can’t believe you picked that sack of shit!

Laito: I don’t get it either. Especially since he’s not all he makes himself out to be; It’s the quiet guys that tend to be the wildest, they say.

Shuu: I said keep it down… I can’t be bothered saying it again.

Yui: ( No way… He actually seems a lot tamer than I first realised! )

( Did I really just luck out with my choice? )

Shuu: I couldn’t care less if you others take whatever you want from her… But there is one thing I should probably make clear, above all else…

Her life’s off limits.

Kanato: You’re saying we can’t kill her? What’s with that rule?

Shuu: Beats me… It’s just what I’ve been told.

Yui: Wh-Wha! You should really say that sooner!!

Shuu: Why?

Yui: “Why”!? Th-That’s my life, we’re talking about…!

Shuu: Whatever…

Ayato: This stinks; Where’s the fun, if we’re meant t’tip-toe around this chick?

Shuu: Not my fault if it happens, I guess… Just be a man and own up to it when that guy ultimately finds out, I don’t want a target on my back.

Reiji: Or, rather, why don’t you be a man and take responsibility for her care?

After all, this woman did entrust herself with you, out of us all, no?

Subaru: Shuddup will ya!? I’d sooner kill this chick than take any orders from that guy.

Ryuuto: Big words for someone who can’t even look “that guy” in the eyes.

Subaru: Piss off.

Kanato: If that’s his order… there has to be something special about this girl, right?

Ayato: Special shmecial.

Who gives a damn!? I’d gladly screw his plans over, whatever they are…

Yui: ( “Something special”… Is that the reason Father’s referred me to this place? )

( Uu… The sooner I get into contact with him, the sooner I can sort this mess out, and find out if this “guy” is related to the Church, like he mentioned. )

Shuu: Seeing as you’d all point the finger at me… Keeping her alive is all I care about. You’re free to do anything else under the sun with her.

As for you… Don’t get in my way, yeah?

Yui: …!!

( Somehow, someway… I need clarification on this; I need to contact Father. Then, I can focus on getting away from these people… )

( And hopefully I’ll do so unscathed… )

─────── ≪ °♛° ≫ ───────

← [ ✥ Prologue ✥ ] ⎥ [ ✥ Dark 5½ ✥ ] →

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edenofmonsters · 5 years

Text

nyctophobia | one.

nyc·to·pho·bi·a | [nik-toh-foh-bee-uh]

definition:

extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.

subject:

wraith | gasouel

notes:

originally documented january 22nd, 2018

6,550 words | 01 part | s. f. w.

a seemingly harmless blackout proves to be an experience you have never considered existing beyond horror films. a monster lurks within the darkness, and it ensues a morbid game of tormenting you while vulnerable.

*✧🌙✧*

Nichole has taken the liberty of your phone pass-code to snap an atrocious selfie and appoint it as her own contact portrait. Truth be told, you don’t have the heart nor incentive to change it. It had taken time to ignore the scrutiny thrown your way, many times which consisted of ducking out of vicinity and of the like. At least her ringtone compensates for the source of embarrassment and entertainment. The wistful chorus of Patrick Swayze’s “She’s Like the Wind” echoes through the wood of your nightstand, a patterned vibration joining the melody. It’s tempting to ignore her call, especially since it’s already 11 p.m. on the night before a breakfast date with Mom.

Before deciding to answer her, you rid your mouthful of minty froth and smear on an even coat of face clay, allowing the chorus to play twice more, both times you sing along to. Either someone is dying on her end or she’s drunk, neither reason serving as good intention to call you. Once finished, you amble into your room and flounce on your bed with all the flourish of a tired individual.

“Babe, the bridal shower is next week, and I still haven’t got a dress!” she says the instant the call connects.

The volume of her voice makes you grimace, her dilemma even more so. Familiar with her procrastination tendencies, you aren’t as surprised as the next person would be. In no way does it lessen the degree of the problem, sadly. You determine how you’ll fare in the morning if the call hypothetically escalates past an hour.

Picking dirt from your nails, you ask, “Please tell me you have potential selections?”

The white, digital numbers of your alarm clock continue ticking closer to midnight as she sends you pictures of dresses she modeled in earlier that afternoon and lists off the pros and cons she’s found with each. You would make this task easier on the both of you with physical moral support, and by that you mean you would have forced her to buy one before the trip, but Nichole is out of state for her sister’s special event, and you happened to deplete your slot of vacation days for the year. After some back and forth bickering, you finally convince Nichole to narrow it down to a few dresses. With a vow to get back to you when she decides on the winning dress, the two of you exchange an “I love you” and “goodnight”.

Sliding out of bed, you make way to the bathroom and rinse off the crusted paste of your now creased face mask with lukewarm water. Once cleansed, you clear excess droplets from your eyes with a single wipe and freeze when pitch blackness greets you. Your heart thrashes for a second. After experimental flicks of the light switch, it's obvious the power is out. This aspect isn’t entirely surprising; it’s been raining all day, the menacing storm threatening to down the roof with the harsh pelting. You’ll just have to make do without charging your phone tonight or an alarm.

Blinded helpless, you use your outstretched hands to inch through the dark, hoping to not stub your toe on anything. By a miracle, you find your way to your door, fingers touching the worn wood.

Did I…close the door? You pause, filing through recent memories. I know I left it open. Not willing to ponder the oddness of it all right now, you settle for blaming the blackout for disorienting you.

That night, you have a peculiar dream about a spectral figure hovering at a fair distance. You may be standing in the abyss of your thoughts, but you feel oppressed just by looking at the figure. It looks to be a lean, masculine silhouette draped in a hooded robe that sways to a nonexistent breeze and falls in misty tendrils. You dare a look inside the hood to see a clean slate face void of details. Chills prickle through your nerves. He doesn’t have any distinctive features, but you feel eyes gouging you, and it leaves you rigid in trepidation. You wake up to your table lamp casting a disc on your ceiling.

Breakfast with Mom is pleasant, Nichole falls in love with the perfect dress, your phone can charge throughout the night, and there’s no dream of the apparition.

Tuesday evening, your lights flicker dead while you’re cooking dinner. It lasts but a few seconds, and in those handful of seconds you swear the air ices over, but it’s gone just as quick as the waning of the electricity. By Friday, you begin to contemplate calling maintenance to inspect for any issues with your apartment. You bring it up with the other tenants and are alarmed when they report no trouble with their power. When you do decide to call maintenance, they report nothing out of the ordinary. The electrician reassures you he will return if you begin experiencing actual problems. You can see he doesn’t appreciate his time being wasted, but he’s polite enough to not say what’s on his mind. His visit leaves you bitter for more than one reason.

You find yourself washing off face clay over your sink for another night. When your eyes open, the light is on; however—you glance into the mirror, see that black character from your dream and vault yourself to the side in a panic. You tumble from your haste, clashing down to the glossed tiles with your heart pounding in your ears. Of course, no one’s there. People imagine ‘things’ from the edge of their eyes all the time from paranoia, but this disturbs you on spiking levels. It shouldn’t unnerve you this much, you tell yourself, and yet you race into the safety of your bedroom and slam the door shut. The image is burned into your eyelids, whether they’re closed or not.

A week passes, each night projecting that damned phantom who does nothing but watch at you. Last night was different, though. You dream, and he isn’t there. He hasn’t proven to be a threat in past dreams, but you can’t brush off the layering fear after the mirror episode. Every which way you look, movements slowed to that of limbs swinging under the density of water. A certain trace of desperation urges you to locate the shadow cutout. You aren’t sure how the notion birthed, the idea that you’ve become the sheep in a hunt, but it’s there.

Here.

You pivot around just as the blackness lunges at you, and you jolt awake screaming. Shaken by the nightmare, you remain fastened to your bed until well into the noon.

It storms again, this time more rageful than the last. You tense, holding your phone in a cartilage-white grip when an especially powerful thunder splits the silent sky far too close. The apartment tremors, your glassware tinkling to the movement. A week has slipped by since that horrendous nightmare. Thankfully, you haven’t been plagued by anymore aside that one. To distract yourself from the storm, you peruse the channels for anything eye-catching. Unsurprisingly, the TV cuts off and dark swallows you whole.

A brief note of panic assaults your chest, a cowardly reaction you will away with a struggle. You can’t help falling victim to fear, no matter how severe you berate yourself for being ridiculous. What is a little darkness going to do to you?

Steeling your nerves, you snatch up your phone, turn the flashlight on, and go hunt down for a candle you remember seeing in one of the kitchen drawers. You locate it with quick success, gathering the untouched stick into one hand. You could have sworn there was a lighter in there somewhere, too. It’s apparent you can’t search for said item with both your hands occupied. You set the candle on the kitchen counter and rummage through the drawer a second time. Just as your fingers wrap around the lighter, the waxen rod rolls right off and onto the floor with a startling clatter.

You determine you can be as young as five or as old as fifty, and you’ll still be uncomfortable with the dark. Long ago, you established there was nothing to fear but the invented creatures you yourself conjured, but you also learned how dangerous imagination could be. It’s what led you to cower under the false safety of your blanket as a child and to avoid the ominous alleys tainted by horrific stories as an adult. At this moment, however, you have every right to be afraid. The past days have pushed you further toward the edge, and you’re waiting when you might fall into the chasm of whatever it is that has been haunting you.

It takes a moment to ease your throbbing heart. As you crouch to retrieve the dropped candle, you detect the weight of another presence in the room with you. There’s a subtle shift in the air that seems to be making room for the second being. You notice the beam of artificial light quivering and realize it’s because you’re shaking. You want to cast the light around the kitchen to see if you can catch a glimpse of anything at all, but you’re stricken frozen by fear. The moment passes, and you scoff for believing you’re in any possible danger. Just as a safety measure, you pan the kitchen with your meager light source. Of course, there’s nothing to jump out at you.

You gather your senses, the materials and make leave for your room. Once alight by the candle, you settle into bed and dive into the fictional world of a novel in your hands. You aren’t aware of how much time has passed, fully immersed with the story playing out in your mind, but a faint sound harshly extracts you from the book. You’re overcome with stillness, ears honing onto the distinctive thud.

These walls are known for giving tenants the privacy they need; thus, you shouldn't be able to hear your neighbors unless they directly pound on the separating plaster. The neighbors on the left are currently out of town for the week and the neighbor on the right has a night shift, so he shouldn’t be home at this time.

Fear and curiosity can go hand in hand; however, the two are warring for the chance to influence your choices of either exploring or hiding. You don't understand how the silence has suddenly become eerie, but it's enough confirmation to allow fear to win. You discard exploring and eagerly hole into the haven of your bed. The candle won't last the night, maybe until you fall asleep if you aren't overwhelmed by apprehension. Remaining in bed seems the less evil of the two choices, but you’re rolling around in the festering thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You should have grabbed a knife when you had the chance.

Oh, come on. What's to be afraid of? Ghosts? You laugh, a forced laugh at that. A minute goes by. Fine. I'll just look around to prove there's nothing that can hurt me. Resolve cemented, you peel away from your blanket and grab the lit candle for your journey, notably ignoring your jittering nerves that make you tremble.

As soon as you peek into the short hallway, whispers of cool air wash over you, setting off a shudder or two. The flame restricts your view to a mere foot radius, giving you the impression of being stuck in a claustrophobic sphere. You leave your door cracked and take a confident step forth. Immediately, that same chill swipes at your spine. You can’t decide if it’s terror painting the horrific thought of a lone finger tracing up your back or not. Regardless, you jump so hard you’re surprised your bones aren’t broken at the joints.

What the fuck was that? you think, flattening to a wall as if it might decrease your vulnerability by a smidgen. Stupid Victor and his stupid horror movie nights. Yet as you throw the blame on your friend, you know better: you just need something tangible to fault, something you know that can be a rational factor to your delusions. But your instincts won't allow you to deny that you aren’t living a fantasy moment, you’re not suffering the side effects of a jump-scare film.

The dark is crawling all over you, seeping into your skin, and dragging you deeper into a thick pool of dread. The steady heat fails as a source of comfort; rather, it seems to be laughing at you. Just then, the mini fire sputters, dancing a chaotic pattern, like someone has walked by.

There’s something inside with you.

Ice skims along your cheek and the candle tumbles from your hands. The dark devours you up, leaving you cold and on the brink of going mad with fear. Quickly, you fall to your knees to search for the candle. You know you aren’t alone but can’t pinpoint how or why, you only know. The figure from your dream comes to mind, and a broken whimper escapes your lips. And then the hairs of your arm stand. You used to think of it as ants navigating underneath your clothes, but it isn’t ants this time, it's a hand running along your limb.

Right here.

You bolt. The slam of your door is so loud, you expect the entire complex to shake. You clamber for your blanket, hurry to light the candle, and wedge yourself into a corner. There you remain, eyes refusing to close. Seconds, minutes, hours, and the thud resounds again. It begins distance, stops at your door, and disappears altogether. The longer you sit there, the more the fear augments to a staggering degree, yet nothing has plowed through the door and attacked you. You refuse to break free from your stiff position, though, staying perched where you are.

You don’t know when you fall back asleep or how you gave in to the need, but the moment of peace is broken by a third pound. The most recharge you gained was by hovering just beneath the first layer of unconsciousness. Instantly, you notice that the candle has gone out. Reaching for your phone, you turn the flashlight on again. Initially, the first thing you notice is the low battery percentage, and then the time (1 a.m.), but once you look to your nightstand, you almost drop your phone.

The candlestick is burned only half way through. It's impossible for it to drown and extinguish in its own pool of wax, because it's a lone stick supported by a holder. Your windows aren’t opened to invite a draft, and you know your sleeping habits as well as Mom does, so you had no play in blowing the flame out. Someone did, something thing.

You hear a soft touch, pulling your attention back to the door. You imagine a palm pressing into the wood. Not a second later, the handle twists ever so slowly. For some inexplicable reason, you can't move, helplessly watching as the handle turns all the way to unlatch. Any moment now, you wait for the door to slam open. It doesn’t. It remains twisted. And then, as if the hand holding it in its place has let go, it abruptly turns back without warning. You fling to the wall you’re already embedded to. As afraid as you are, frustration sidles up to your mind, and possible anger.

“What do you want?” you ask, voice tight.

The handle turns slow, the door opens, and it closes the door just as softly. A cry croaks from your throat from witnessing an invisible force committing the action. Gentle steps travel across the floorboards to you. The bed sinks, and you cry harder.

“What do you want?!”

That same figure from your dreams manifests right before your eyes, ripping a gasp from you.

“You.”

Cold, hands latch onto your ankles to yank you forward and you shriek—

“Babe!” Nichole is shaking you awake, her face creased in concern.

You’re gulping for air, desperately clawing at your bedding. After you calm down some, you grab onto Nichole to reassure yourself she’s real. You think about those hands on your ankles. They felt just as real as the woman before you. A single sob falls from your mouth, leading to uncontrollable weeping, prompting your friend to support you to her chest. She holds you without a word.

You tell her you’ve been having nightmares but don’t specify them, afraid Nichole will suffer the same fate if she knows. You treat it as a curse. It takes some effort on your side to convince your friend you’ll be fine. She leaves, albeit reluctantly, only because you’ve promised to call her if anything happens. You almost kick her out, so she won’t be late for work. She only came by to retrieve her charger she left when she spent time with you yesterday.

You can’t decide if you’re glad or not that she doesn’t live with you. The two of you roomed together after graduating college, but as soon as Nichole nabbed a boyfriend, you wanted out. You wouldn’t mind sharing a living space with them if it came down to it; Victor was good and played the older brother you never had. You just don’t want to invade their relationship. Nichole took it hard. According to her, you came first before Victor, but you know how much she loves him.

Your random thoughts skid to a halt when you return to your bedroom and zero your attention onto the candle still on your nightstand. Burned only halfway through. In a bout of boiling rage and terror, you swipe it away. It hits the wall and cracks in two. Nothing makes sense. Are you going insane? Are you being haunted? You’ve never had any reason to believe in the supernatural in the past, but that idea is becoming more likely. This is out of your league. Tears shed again. For a moment, you think a salted globule has been wiped away by a finger.

That evening, you force yourself into a tub of scalding, sudsy water, attempting anything to ease your mind, because you still believe it’s all part of your imagination. You shut away the world, focusing on the rhythmic strokes of the bath loofah dragging along your limbs. Some time during the process, ghostly hands join in. You stop, and it stops.

It’s fake, it’s just fake, you chant, scrubbing harder until your skin becomes red.

When you dream this night, the apparition is there. This time, he disappears. Alarmed, you seek for him, afraid he might harm you. Just as sudden, he reemerges behind you. You buck, but he holds you steady.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” you cry.

“Hurt you?” he whispers, a wispy sort of sound with an echoing quality. He constricts his embrace harder, eliciting a grunt. “You’ve already done that to yourself,” he continues, attesting the statement by soothing touches down your scrubbed raw arms.

If you weren’t so afraid, you might have thought he was genuinely worried for you. The sweet wickedness in his words is nothing short of mockery.

“No, I have far more different intents for you.”

One moment, you’re in his arms, another moment, you’re being thrown to the floor. You can’t feel pain, just the pressure. Regardless, you become dazed by the impact. The figure looms over you with an unseen smile. You don’t have the chance to scramble away, losing that opportunity by hesitating. He pounces on you, and you fight.

“Shh, I won’t hurt you.” He testifies by caressing you with the touch of a lover.

You wake up in a sweat, gasping, and unable to forget the gentleness of his gestures.

The dreams persist, becoming more and more vivid until you can no longer tell reality and dream apart. Not before long, they intensify to actual phantom touches out of dreamland but strictly after the sky is dark (he never makes an appearance until then). The second time he touches you while you’re awake and aware of your surroundings, you’re doing laundry. His hands cup your waist, pressing his fingers just so you can see invisible prints of his touch crinkling your shirt. He leaves, but not before kissing your shoulder.

You call an exorcist; he fails to find the smallest traces of any paranormal activities, although he blesses you with a prayer before taking leave. The words spill in one ear and out the other. The second exorcist concludes with the same results as the first.

“Don’t make me leave,” he whispers after you bid the exorcist goodbye.

You whirl on him, and any nasty words you want to spit dissolves at discovering his invading proximity. Your breath hits against his flat face, echoing the warmth back to you.

“Oh, don’t be afraid. Haven’t we met before, once upon a dream?”

You grow stiff hearing the quote from Sleeping Beauty you watched yesterday. “Why are you doing this to me?” you ask in a brittle voice, brimming with mental exhaustion and anguish, because you’ve given up.

He falters from the question, sensing the loss of fight within you. “I’m alone, so alone. I have nothing and no one,” he drifts around you in a melancholic circle, like a drapery shifting in murky waters, “I don’t remember who I am, but I know I’ve done evil, which makes me what I am. I suppose not all of it has withered away. I won’t deny that I find it thrilling to torment you. Your fear is exhilarating and so delicious.”

You can’t see the twisted smile he grants you, but you feel it there, and it makes you weep.

“However,” he swoops down to gather you into his phantom arms, somehow carrying you into the air, the shadow cloak wrapping around and pulling you further into the being, “your tears also make me sad,” he says, streaking the wetness away with his own cheek. “Why is that? Why does your pain please me and hurt me all at once? Tell me.”

You struggle uselessly in his strangely comforting arms. “I don’t know,” you say, feet kicking above the floor. “Please, put me down.” You strain your face away when he tries to wipe your tears again.

His chest heaves, as if he’s huffed with resignation. “Fine.”

In a whirlwind of blurred colors, the phantom whisks the both of you to the living room in a mere blink. It takes you a second to regain your bearings, a spell of dizziness disarming you. You come eye-to-eye with the hooded face and come to realize you’re on your feet but still trapped in his arms. You try wrestling free from his impossible grip.

“Don’t push me away. You’ve been enjoying your dreams so far, and this isn’t any different,” he says against your temple. You will never understand how he can speak without a mouth.

Shame burns your face. “You’ve been forcing them on me! I can’t help what my body reacts to. If you hit me, I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt,” you grit out, wincing from the tightness of his constricting embrace.

“I know, I know it all. Stop closing yourself from me—”

Both of you freeze at the startling sound of the front door opening. You’re about to scream for Nichole, but the apparition vanishes into nothing. Said friend stumbles through the front door and pauses.

“Are you okay?” she asks, walking to you.

“Yeah, just, I thought I saw a mouse,” you lie.

Her face scrunches up. “You better call for extermination just in case. Anyway, I know I should have sent you a text beforehand, but wanna grab a drink?”

You agree. On your way out the door, his hand briefly clutches for yours, tracing a sardonic plea into your knuckles.

Don’t leave.

You rip your hand loose, shut the door, and walk away. You crash over at Nichole and Victor’s and remember what it means to laugh and have fun. You spend the following day with them and return home much later that night, although reluctantly. Your heart stops when you notice the door is ajar.

He wouldn’t be able to escape, would he? Regardless, you ease your way into your apartment. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, except some things have been moved. You tiptoe to your bedroom and flick the light on. You gasp when the phantom comes into view right in the middle of your room. He turns around from his rummaging through your draws, and he’s not the ghost. The stranger is dressed in black, hauling a backpack, and wielding a knife that glints at your eye.

You jolt to action when he growls and sprints for you. He’s quick, snatching at your hair and jerking you around to a stop. A shrill cry burns your throat, forcing the man to flinch.

“Shut up—”

His poised knife never makes it into your flesh; no, instead, a ghostly hand spears through the man’s chest. There is no blood, for there isn’t a wound in sight, but his life is gone regardless. You watch the hand wrench away from the body, ripping away a black mass with identical qualities as the phantom with it. That’s when you glance toward your unlikely savior who has been taunting you. You are wrong to believe he was terrifying before: he is the epitome of hatred and fury. He’s blacker than black, heaving like a beast, and, to your shock, there are red eyes as the only visible feature within the swirling darkness of the hood. The slits heighten the staggering aura wafting from him, and you curl within yourself.

“Begone.” The single word is pure venom.

He squeezes the blackness in his hand until it falls apart in smoky ribbons, hits the floor and dissipates to nothing. You watch in horror as the body materializes away in the same manner, leaving the clothes and items behind as the only evidence of the man ever existing. The dark figure suddenly roars his anger out, a simultaneous ear-splitting slice and rumbling bellow that sparks your electricity dead, leaving you in the dark, which is beginning to become a familiar setting.

You wait, anxious and wondering if he will finally kill you. You’re wild when his arms vine around you, cradling you into his ghostly form and lifting you from the floor. He’s now frighteningly serene, acting like he wasn’t furious just seconds ago. In the dimness, the phantom is more solid than ever before, neither constricting his arms nor releasing you. He hums a tuneless lullaby, shushing into your ear until you still.

“Hush now, you’re safe.”

The adrenaline leaks away, replaced with tears, in which your savior kisses away. You can’t decide what kind of relief it is that you cry from—is it relief that he’s saved you, relief that you’re alive, relief that he isn’t as evil as you assumed? Whatever reason it may be, this moment of cathartic release lightens your heart.

The clothes and knife are gone the following morning, and your belongings are stored to their rightful places. You aren’t as averse to the ghostly touches as your previously were, although it took you time to welcome them. He gives you peace throughout the day and even during your dreams. Sometimes he embraces you as you go about your nightly chores, adhering your body like your own cloak.

One night he brazenly slips into bed with you, intimately pressing against your back. You fidget in his hold. You’ve built a strange trust with this supernatural being and you don’t want to go back to cowering from it.

“Stop,” you whisper, pulling at his hands that have found way around you and are tracing circles into your arms.

“Why?�� You have no answer, so he resumes his loving strokes. “Haven’t I been patient enough? Kind enough?”

“Why are you even doing this, why me?” That makes him pause.

“Even I surprise myself. My kind are as old as the earth, meant to exist as creatures of evil. Yet the longer I persisted my game with you, the faster my resolve crumbled away. Do you have any sense as to how wrathful I was seeing that foul human attempt to hurt you? I thought to let him be, let him destroy himself from his own deeds, and then you waltzed in.” He turns you to face him. “I suddenly couldn’t bear to see you turn into a lost spirit. Perhaps I was jealous, perhaps I wanted to turn you myself, but then I can never feel your warmth again.”

You recoil, thinking yourself an idiot for believing he might harbor the tiniest sliver of good in him. He keeps you still when you begin to escape, planting his forehead to yours, his hood tickling your hairline.

“I tired of haunting and torturing the evil humans, so I thought to play with someone whose soul wasn’t as black. I settled for you by chance. Before I could stop myself, a drop of your goodness tainted me, leaving me impure. I am no longer wholly evil. Now I understand why my kind despised and cowered from the light, not only because it could destroy us to nothing, but because it would save us, and we evil wraiths are not meant to be anything but. What have you done to me?”

You can say nothing, only breathe and stare into red eyes. They make rare appearances, but when they do, you can’t help but imagine them as garnets. You can only think of one question.

“What’s your name?”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, whether from hesitation or contemplation. “Gasouel, call me Gasouel.”

*✧🌙✧*

“Have you always liked your apartment this cold?” Nichole asks, shivering as she does so.

You hardly notice the temperature now. You only shrug in response, cleverly placing a drink in front of your friend to distract her.

“Any colder and you might turn this place into a freezer,” Victor laughs good-naturedly, while patting your shoulder and giving you a playful shake.

You open your mouth to quip a remark but freeze when Gasouel appears behind Victor and phases through the unsuspecting man. A violent shudder rakes through his body.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” he mumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets before making his way to cuddle next to his girlfriend currently swathed in one of your spare blankets.

You toss a glare to the wraith who is quite unapologetic.

Later that night when the clock hits midnight, you lecture the idle wraith.

“I told you to leave them alone,” you hiss.

He grabs your face and rubs his forehead on yours. “I would never hurt them; I know how much you care for them.”

It’s a bit odd to see him jealous. You suppose it will just be another facet to accommodate to, along with his affectionate inclinations. A couple months have passed by since the day he saved you. You still have trouble overcoming the disappearance of the burglar. While you never even touched the man, you know you’ve played an indirect part in his death. After all, Gasouel had killed him for your sake. If not for you, he’d still be alive. Although, recently, you find it hard to pity the man. In fact, while your ghostly companion did destroy his soul, it saved him from suffering the fate of becoming a wraith and saved the world from the existence of another dark creature.

That aside, you’re convinced Gasouel will leave one of these days, either from boredom or in fear of losing his entire purpose as a being of evil. If he stays long enough, you wonder what will happen to him when you’re gone.

“What are you thinking?” His question brings you back to the present.

“It’s…nothing,” you say, extracting yourself from him.

Displeased, he flies to stop you from walking away. “You can tell me,” and he pairs this with a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You still shy away from any affections, not having such devout attention since your last relationship, which was well over two years ago. Gasouel knows this, too, spurring his efforts.

“Come now, don’t be shy,” he whispers, hugging you close.

You relent. “Will you ever leave me?” Immediately, you regret your choice of words—you sound desperate for him to stay.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, more amused than troubled.

“I don’t know—”

He chuckles. “That’s enough for reconsideration.”

And you blush. If you want him to leave, you wouldn’t be unsure. Even the smallest amount of hesitation is proof that you do want him to stay, regardless how insignificant that wish is now.

“I was afraid of you for a long time, and then you saved me. You’ve proved to be good, even if that only pertains to me. I won’t lie, I’ve come to enjoy you being with me, whatever this is. But how long are you going to stay? I know for a fact you wouldn’t want to stay forever.”

“And if I want to stay forever?”

You laugh a humorless huff. “I won’t live that long.”

“You think I would be sad if I stayed and watched you grow until your death?”

“I—I’m not implying that—”

“You are,” but you can hear the smile in his words, an impish one at that.

Growing frustrated, you cut to the point, not wanting to suffer a bout of taunting from him. “What I mean to say is, you’re wasting your time with me. There’s no point in staying with someone who will just ruin what you’re supposed to be.”

“You want me to continue my villainous deeds?”

“Damn it, Gasouel, no! I just…I don’t really know what I’m trying to say anymore.” You turn to leave but are swept into his arms before even taking a step.

“I have wasted centuries wandering and tormenting. I would stay with you whether it meant the end of my existence or not; I would rather stay and lose you than not having stayed at all. Don’t you have any hope that I have a chance of dying with you?”

You laugh. “Who would have known you could be such a romantic?”

“Is it so bad?”

“No.”

“Is it so bad that I stay, regardless what may happen?”

He makes you look into his eyes. It never occurs to you that he may be tired, and he’s only just realized because of you. “No,” you say.

“Then I’ll stay right where I am.”

*✧🌙✧*

When Nichole asks if you’ll ever date again, you merely shrug, glancing at Gasouel who lazily circles you as you slice some vegetables. You’ve grown used to his invasion. Victor makes some teasing remark you can’t even remember because you must hold onto the wraith’s cloak to prevent him from maiming the poor man’s soul. Gasouel still hasn’t warmed up to Victor.

You don’t think dating will prove to be wise, not with your embarrassing attraction for your ghostly companion that grows by the day and not with Gasouel’s possessive streak charging out when a man sends any form of flirtation your way (yes, you discover he can roam outside your apartment during the nights). You think it’s impossible to pursue a relationship with him, so you might have to convince him to back down when you go soul searching. He doesn’t ever give you the chance to consider another human partner, he doesn’t even give you a chance to approach him about the subject for that matter.

You don’t recall how it happens, but one moment you’re debating taking on a coffee date with one of the new tenants a few doors down (he’s rather cute) and the next, as soon as you step inside your apartment, you’re being cornered.

“Have you become my tormentor now?” Gasouel hisses, hovering close in all his furious glory of red eyes and billowing cloak, yet he doesn’t touch you.

You shrink away, not from fear but from the intensity of his emotions. “W-what?”

“You think I haven’t noticed, did you? You couldn’t be more obvious with your blatant staring and the longing on your pretty face. I suppose I am at fault for depriving you any human partners, but why settle for that when you have me?”

Your face burns. He’s known all along.

Despite the mischievous tone, you can tell he’s been playing the patient predator. For how long, you don’t know. Before you can get a word in, he yanks you into his arms. You watch with fascination as he molds himself a mouth. He doesn’t waste time to finally, finally kiss you. It’s everything fervent and heartfelt, and it leaves you unable to stand. Gasouel’s touch isn’t anything new, but unlike before, they can’t even compare to the strength and desperation of his hands now. That night, you release yourself from any inhibitions and give in to him.

Come morning, he’s still there. One taste and he can’t seem to have enough. At one point, the reality and insanity of it all makes you laugh while he makes you see stars. He doesn’t find it as funny as you do, all too consumed with absorbing your warmth and listening to your blood pound underneath his ears. When you realize you love him, it’s the exact moment when he stops for a second to look far into your eyes. He must realize it, too, because his intent slows to a tender passion. He moves with deliberation, wanting to memorize this moment and every part of it. The two of you are closer than ever, not an inch of space existing between your bodies as he lays atop you. Of all the nights you have spent with him, this particular night brings you to overjoyed tears.

Nichole notices a difference about you. You smile because he kisses your cheek, unseen by the woman. Mom initially worries about your lack of boyfriend, translating to the lack of a husband, but if you’re content then she is (although, she would really want to see some grandchildren running around and to spoil rotten). When Nichole marries Victor, not once are you envious. You catch the bouquet and laugh. Gasouel makes love to you the same night, absently tracing your ring finger in the afterglow. The passionate nights eventually stop, but you hardly mind. Being with him is more than enough. He still holds you every night while you sleep, even as you lay in the crisp whiteness of a hospital bed at the age of eighty. He tells you he loves you while the sun is high. His existence doesn’t even waver in the light. You return the words and close your eyes just for a moment. A warm hand touches your cheek, and when you open your eyes, you see a man.

“I always knew you were handsome,” you say.

He laughs, and his smile is exactly as you imagined.

*✧🌙✧*

fin.

*✧🌙✧*

thoughts:

i came up with the brilliant idea to format my posts as if i were writing a field guide to mythical creatures i encounter! that aside, the last half of this piece is fairly censored, thus some ideas have been changed accordingly. i hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless.

resources:

monster masterlist by thespelia

encyclopedia of monsters by thespelia

#terato #exophilia #monsters #monster love #monster romance #monster boyfriend #horror #romance #fear to love #wraith #oc: gasouel #writing

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diabolikotaku · 6 years

Text

Vampire! Yui Komori Headcannons

Sorry it took me like three million years to answer you!

Vampire Age: 17

Human Age: 117

Her father is Seiji Komori, the Vampire King

Goes by Christian name in demon realm: Solomon

The youngest of four

Her eldest brother Yusuke, her older sister Yuna, her twin brother (who was born 2 hours earlier) Yuito, then Yui.

Yusuke and Yuna are fully Japanese while Yuito and Yui are half East-European

Yusuke and Yuna had a different mother than Yuito and Yui.

Yui has an orthodox name: Anastasia (Anya) Vasiliev

Yuito is Aleksandr (Alex) Vasiliev

Yusuke and Yuna go by catholic names: Jeremias and Juliette Lazarus

Her mother is Natsia Vasiliev

She was a low-class vampire who was filled with greed, so she decided to become a handmaiden at Seiji’s manor in order to seduce him, have his children, and demand money.

After all of her plans failed, she drugged Seiji and raped him

Once she was pregnant, she threaten Seiji to spread all over the demon realm that he committed adultery with a low class demon, unlike his current wife Hanako (Helena Lazarus) if he didn’t give her enough money so she could be comfortable

She didn’t even want to keep her children once she got the money, so she ditched them with Seiji.

Alas, Seiji still loved Yui and Yuito. So he and Hanako kept them nd treated them like family.

She was born with Yuito on June 21, 1901

The reason why she was made the ‘heiress to the Komori throne’ was because Yusuke fell in love with a werewolf (violation of vampire law) and was banished to the Miasma islands in the demon world (it’s just really hot and everything at some weird black miasma around it he’s immune to, he and his wife Yuri are living happily together), Yuna loathed absolutely everything about Seiji and swore to never associate with him or anything involving the vampire throne, and Yuito just calmly passed the responsibility down to Yui.

She couldn’t say no at that point

She has many nicknames in the demon realm, such as: Anya the Blood Heiress, the Trinity Cross, the Rose, etc.

Yui lives by herself in the Komori Manor, with the exception of a few servants.

For someone who’s loaded, you’d think she wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

Nope, she does all of the cooking, gardening, and sometimes cleaning herself

She needs something to do to pass the night time

That’s why she was so happy when Seiji told her that she was having guest staying with her from now on...Until he explained her situation.

Basically, six people with pure blood are sent to the Komori manor as ‘food banks’, one of them is the true blood Adam and will help make her the Eve of the demon realm

She had to pick wisely on who her Adam would be

Nevertheless, she was still happy about not being alone.

Yui has the complete opposite demeanor of what a vampire should act like/are perceived to act like.

Most vampires are sadistic, cruel, unforgiving, wouldn’t look twice at a human, usually arrogant, thinks everyone around them are weak, etc.

Nah, Yui’s all like: smiling, giving kindness to others, being helpful, friendly, caring, motherly, nurturing, equal to everyone, understanding, etc

So that’s why the Sakamaki brothers brushed her off when they first met her.

But now we get into her Sadistic side.

Yui has a completely different personality in her that sleeps, only wakes up to feed or pretty much take control when she feels like it. Sadistic is very much like the typical aristocrat vampire.

Normal Yui hates talking about or when Sadistic wakes up because it means she’ll lose control and Sadistic will destroy the trust she built with her humans.

When Sadistic wakes up, Yui’s eyes turn blood red.

Yui has to watch everything Sadistic does and she can’t take it.

That’s why she tries so hard to get along, have people’s trust, and make up for Sadistic’s words

Yui has some control over Sadistic, that’s why the boys don’t die after Sadistic feeds on them.

she tries to drain them like a juice box!

Yui is very innocent while Sadistic is very nasty and so not innocent if you catch my drift.

Sadistic is fond of punishments

Yui cries as she watches in horror what Sadistic does to the boys.

Has a fox and an owl familiar

The fox is named Xian and the owl is named Fester

Yui’s favorite colors are dusty rose, lilac velvet, pink ruby, and cream.

She’s quite up to date with what’s happening in the modern world.

switches between old-time clothes and modern clothes if not at school.

will sometime say old-time things by accident

still doesn’t own a phone (and Seiji didn’t put a land line in.)

When the Sakamaki brothers first discovered she was a vampire, Subaru was the one to pull out a trinity cross (gift from mother)

She dead ass pulled her rosary from under clothes and smiled, “You have one too? I figured you weren’t too deeply involve with religion by how you act!”

This confused the brothers and resulted in Ayato smacking Subaru up the head.

When she was little, she couldn’t bare to hurt a creature for blood, so she starved herself until her father make her drink blood via transfusions/cups of blood so she wouldn’t die on him.

She stopped doing that when she was around 13 in vampire years, but it always hurt her on the inside to hurt someone for blood.

She really does care for all of the Sakamaki boys, even if they brush her off because she seemed weak or she terrified them.

She helped Ayato find something around to Manor to do as a past time because there was no internet here...Or a phone line.

Gave Reiji the room with the largest study and always

Showed Subaru where her personal little chapel was so he could pray.

(Even though he would always criticize her about not being right) She would bake sweets when she can for Kanato.

Introduced crossword puzzeles to Laito

Showed Shuu the music room

Yui actually used to play the piano when she was younger, but became rusty

Yuito and Yuna never learned how to play one

Yusuke was an excellent violinist and she always loved to listen to him play

That’s why Yui was happy to hear Shuu knew how to play the violin.

Yui is a hopeless romantic, when she just hit ‘puberty’, she spent all day in the library reading romance novels and dreaming of her ‘one true love’. When she gets the chance to, Yui buys romance novels in town and indulges in them.

Well, she sure gets a selection...

and they’re certainly no prince charming.

For being this old, she’s bound to have at least one lover in the past, right? You’re correct! She used to spend her time with a human artist back in 1981.

His name was Takizawa Hayato

He taught her how to draw, or at least he tried too.

Yui’s still pretty bad at drawing people, but she can draw landscapes pretty well.

It only lasted for a little bit when he found out she was a vampire (and he questioned why she stayed the same age as when she met him while he aged).

Yusuke had to kill him.

Over the years, she learned how to crochet doilies out of pure boredom

And also learned how to sew a bit, you really have nothing to do after years of no internet.

Knows some Russian along with Yuito

Yusuke and Yuna know Italian.

Met Cordelia once

Yui didn’t really like her

Also that one time was when Seiji killed her because of some unknown reason.

If this were formatted like the actual games, then there would be a part in one of the boys’ route where she would lose a lot of her own blood and Seiji would give her a transfusion of Cordelia’s blood. Thus Cordelia becoming one with Yui.

Let’s get into some Otome Game shit :

(We’re going by Haunted Dark Bridal btw)

The best endings:

All: Marriage

maybe kids?

Becoming ‘Adam’

overcoming the shitty parts

Bad endings:

Ayato: Yui gets amnesia and doesn’t remember Ayato, making him crazy.

Kanato: Yui kills Kanato but keeps his corpse as a doll.

Laito: Sadistic becomes the controller of Yui’s body and abuses him for the rest of his days.

Shuu: Yui dies in a fire

Reiji: Yui is killed by Karlheinz

Subaru: Yui locks up Subaru and he is forced to become crazy like his mother.

Routes:

Ayato: Since he is main bae in the original series, there’s gonna be lots of cute things,

Kanato: i feel like there might be a lot of bonding in this route, of course it’s eventual, but when the time comes Kanato just clings onto Yui. This can help out a little bit with his complex about being the ignored child and help him move on. Possibly help him grow up a little? But then again, we love our man-child.

Laito: ear porn This route could go either ways, it either helps Laito rip away the playboy act and get over his problems about his mother (and him being sexually abused) or it helps him become more...Child-like again? Like before Cordelia fucked him over.

For the triplets, there might be a discovery arc about why their mother was involved with a family of vampires for some reason.

Shuu: I feel like Shuu’s route would probably be a healing route for him, from being cold, emotionless, tired, and shut-in, to someone who can get over his past. Even though it still lingers, I think Yui helps him out with his ptsd and depression and he gets better throughout the playthrough.

Reiji: The route that holds most of the actual plot. But there is still memorable moments between Reiji and Yui that satisfy the soul and goes over some of Reiji’s issues.

Subaru: Maybe a mix between a healing and a discovery route. Like Subaru finds out his mother was involved with the Komoris somehow and he’s trying to get the answer some how from Yui, the more time they spend together they fall in love and they have to come over some epic plot I can’t think of while he tries to heal after the ptsd of watching his mother suffer her days in that locked cage his father called her room.

All of them will have the main plot of the story, though.

In each route, Yui’s struggles will be revealed.

Ayato: Her mother, definitely

Kanato: Sadistic’s origins

Laito: Her mother / Struggling with controlling Sadistic

Shuu: Hayato / the depression of being practically immortal.

Watching all of her friends grow old and die while she doesn’t change

being unable to friend humans because of this

generally has been alone her whole childhood besides her family.

etc.

Reiji: being maltreated because of her mother’s intentions

the other servants knew about this and some of them maltreated Yui harshly.

Subaru: Her self-worth / the fear of hurting those weaker than her

Maybe some other alternative bad endings would be either Yui or one of the boys becoming Yandere over the other person???

There has to be saucy stills because is diabolik lovers, you cannot expect less.

Maybe add a rival to the boys were he’s trying to obtain Yui in order for her to love him or just kill her, idk.

The Komori family is filled with pure-blooded vampires that go back for several generations (well, except Yui and Yuito)

Has a summer home and a winter home. The summer home when the bounty hunters get into town and the winter home for when the war was happening in the city the summer home was located at.

Sadistic formed in her when the servants were abusing her, when Yui had enough Sadistic came over and killed the servants and hid them before Yui ‘woke up’.

The only kind of makeup Yui knows how to do is Victorian-styled.

Makes her own perfumes and makeup from flowers and such

Before this whole ‘Adam and Eve’ stuff, Yui was supposed to get married to a high-class vampire family’s eldest son, but he was killed by Yuito

The son wanted to kill Yui and sell her organs and blood to the lower-class vampires and demons for a price.

sleeps in a regular bed

Locks herself in her room when blood moon arrives because she doesn’t want to hurt anyone during that period of time.

Sadistic doesn’t come out, this is a whole new monster Yui doesn’t understand.

2nd year

Considered popular by the students, but not ridiculously popular.

Has her fair share of fans

when some girls were trying to intimidate Yui about staying away from the Sakamaki brothers, she just scoffed and told them she can’t avoid them since they live with her.

And she also told them that they wouldn’t be into girls like them, it shut them up real fast.

Helps Subaru and Ayato study (even though it’s a difficult process)

Favorite foods are: fruit tarts, parfaits, and pancakes

wants to have three children

She’s afraid of turning someone into a vampire after the incident with Yuna and a past lover.

Still can’t swim

Follows her father’s orders without a fail.

Including keeping in 6 human boys for food.

Will occasionally take the boys out to the town next to the school.

Feels bad for the boys since they can’t go out often, so she places in vases of flowers to liven up the dark manor.

Somehow, she has met all of the sakamaki mothers one what or another.

Karlheinz actually tried to kill her once, however he was mistaken by Yuito and got badly injured.

That’s all I got for now~

#anon #request #diabolik lovers #reversed!diaboliklovers #au #headcannons #vampire! yui #dialove #diahell #sakamaki shuu #sakamaki subaru #sakamaki reiji #sakamaki kanato #sakamaki ayato #sakamaki laito #otome

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