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#ikevamp arthur x reader
azulashengrottospiano · 9 months
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SUMMARY: you leave a lipstick mark on him, how scandalous!!!
CHARACTERS: mozart, arthur, vincent, & isaac.
WARNINGS: None!! :D
COMMENTS: i wanted to practice writing these guys more!!
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mozart doesn’t realize your lipstick has transferred at first, but he knows your giggling never means anything good. his inquisitive “what?” comes out snappier than he intends it to be, but when your eyes dart to the spot you kissed he connects the dots. rolling his eyes, he takes out his handkerchief and attempts to wipe your kiss away. although it's funny to watch him struggle to get the kiss mark off of his face, you eventually step in to help. (and by that, of course i mean you kissed him stupid.)
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arthur knows what you’re up to immediately. it’s almost like he has a special sense for your mischief. he lets you pull him in by his lapels and fails to hide his disappointment when you plant a smooch on his cheek instead of his lips. he pouts, pointing to his lips with a pleading gaze. you make a big show of sighing before you smirk, pulling him again and showering his face in kisses. no, he doesn’t wipe a single mark off. yes, he parades around the mansion like that the whole day. yes, he’s grumpy at night when he has to wash them off. oh well, you can always give him more later, can’t you?
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vincent blushes when your lips brush against his skin. he touches where you kissed and smiles softly, eyes shifting to you. you’re as beautiful a sight as always, and your smile could not look more radiant. “sunflower...what was that for?” he murmurs, running the back of his hand tenderly along your cheek. you whisper that it wasn’t for anything in particular, he just looks so darling and handsome that you couldn’t resist. his cheeks turn pinker and he hides his laughter behind his hand. oh, you charmer! his face may as well be your canvas, no?
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isaac jumps up in his chair, startled by your surprise attack. he reminds you hastily that he’s working, but not without stumbling over his words like a fool in love. you can snicker at the mark on his cheek, but isaac assumes you’re just laughing at “how adorable he looks when flustered” again. it's quite mean of you, you know this, but you’d never be so mean as you let him walk around with your lipstick mark on his cheek. you know arthur would tease him relentlessly. “wanted to leave you a little gift.” you say, poking the mark on his burning cheek, “i hope it motivates you, darling.”
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natimiles · 2 months
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Lazy morning with Arthur
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Words: 385
Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; no pronouns specified for reader; established relationship.
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You wake up with the mattress shifting and the sheets rustling softly. Struggling to open your eyes, you turn to your side to get a better look at your lover.
“Are you just coming to bed?” you yawn.
Arthur stops for a moment to look at your face, and he sighs. He had been awake writing until now, and he tried to go to sleep without disturbing or worrying you.
“Yes, sorry to wake you, luv.” He lies down and pulls you close, kissing your forehead.
You look at the window; even with the curtains closed, you can see the first signs of the sun rising. You click your tongue — not really annoyed, but concerned — and frown.
“Just come here,” you murmur.
He looks puzzled, and you have to move to make him understand what you’re saying. Pulling away from his embrace just enough to reposition yourself, you scoot up in the bed so you can loop your arm around his head. And now you’re the one pulling him closer.
“Ah, what have I done to deserve such royal treatment?” he smiles, kissing your collarbone and hugging you tighter.
“You’ve made me love you, and love me back just as much.”
He blinks twice, and the grin widens on his face. He is so lucky to have you supporting him, loving him unconditionally, even when he doubts himself. You don’t give him much time to think about it; you always encompass him in a tight embrace, and all his problems just… melt away. Like magic.
Like now.
“Now, go to sleep,” you mutter under your breath, gently using your fingertips to coax his eyelids shut.
He lets out a soft chuckle under his breath and obeys. You squeeze him one more time and kiss the top of his head. Your fingertips begin to lightly scratch his scalp in a relaxing way — one that you know he loves and that helps him release all the tension.
Arthur absentmindedly returns the caress, drawing abstract forms on your back. With a content hum, he throws his leg over your body, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath of your sweet, calming scent.
And in just a few minutes, your steady breaths are the only thing that can be heard in the room.
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Taglist: @specters0rd @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest
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robin-the-enby · 2 months
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Hi! Can I get an angst/comfort fic of Arthur with a female s/o who is depressed and suicidal? Like he walks in on his s/o c*tting while having a mental breakdown? Or he just notices the cuts/scars? Or he walks in on his s/o bl33ding out?? Idk you can get creative with it I’ve just been having an extremely rough couple months. If this makes you uncomfortable then you can just ignore this request, but thanks anyways! I hope you have a great day/night!! <3
It's my problem if I feel the need to hide
Pairing: Arthur x f!reader
Summary: You feel under the weather, but decide not to tell anyone. As your condition only worsens, your friends start to worry about you. It's when you decide to let everything go your knight with blue eyes and a cheeky smile comes to the rescue.
Warnings: depression, suicidal ideation, not being able to care for oneself (containing lack of hygiene and proper meals), mentions of vomit(ing) (3), negative self talk, dark thoughts
A/N: I am so sorry for the delay of this fic, I hope it will be of use to you still. I haven't written for this fandom in a long while, so getting back to it was a little hard, though I enjoyed it none the less. I tried not to use any (Y/N)s and make it as racially neutral as possible, as well as appearance-neutral (Arthur carries reader 1 time, but he's stronger than a regular human, and y'all deserve it ladies, no matter your size). If anyone wants to talk about anything at all, my dms are open, as well as my ask box. Take care of yourselves and stay safe!
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The human mind is possibly nature's greatest invention. The complexity with which all its components interact to keep the body functioning is nothing short of phenomenal. And not only that, but it is aware of itself, encasing its own conscience inside a safe vessel, built and evolved specifically to protect it. And as time progressed, and all the basic needs of the body were cared for, there came a need to create. The body could easily be fed, but the conscience needed a different type of sustenance.
The human mind is capable of incredible things. It can set goals for itself as well as achieve them. It shaped the entire world to its liking, for better or for worse. The human mind is the reason why we live the lives we do today. It is the thing that keeps us alive and sane.
It's funny how drastically that can change.
If you'd ask any of the men residing in the mansion on who the worst enemy of humans is, you're sure all of them would at least mention the human conscience, if not directly choose it. After all, their lives have been woven through with the thread of sorrow, the perpetrator being none other than the human mind- theirs or someone else's.
At this point, you feel like you've at least got a peek at the complex inner worlds of history's greatest minds. Some you knew better than others, but you've been le Comte's servant for long enough to consider all the mansion's residents at least friends.
It was evident to anyone who has been in the mansion for at least a month that all of the people (and vampires) residing in it had some sort of baggage, wearing them down even in their second undead life. Some were better at hiding it than others, some just felt more comfortable keeping their troubles to themselves, while others' emotions and traumas were sometimes too great, too overwhelming to be kept locked inside their bodies.
You've tried your best to help those who needed it, both physically and mentally. It helped a few to open up to you at least a little and as time went on, with your hard work, you've earned respect for yourself even amongst the toughest nuts in the mansion. Poking through others' personal affairs and traumas carried along numerous fights as well as apologies and in the end just served to strengthen the bond between you and the residents. And yet, at times like these...you couldn' help but feel alone.
Like all the others, you had to shoulder the burden of traumas, insecurities and unpleasant experiences collected unwillingly throughout your life. You suspected the others knew of this, or at least had a hunch that you, like all of them, haven't had the pleasure of living a carefree life.
They saw you as an independent, strong and courageous woman, resilient and kind in any situation. And if you were in the right state of mind, you would agree. But lately, you began to doubt these traits of yours, the ones you valued so much and were valued for.
You weren't a stranger to struggling and you knew that anyone in need of help deserved to receive it and should not be scared to ask for it.
So why did the thought of asking for help make your stomach churn?
You've been pondering that question for a few days now. Lately, your entire reality seemed to have shifted. At first, you didn't think anything was wrong, a simple bad day, or a bad week wasn't anything to be too worried about. Nothing a nice, relaxing weekend couldn't fix, right? And yet, when you had tasks to complete, you felt agitated and annoyed, but when you had nothing to do, you were antsy and restless. Always feeling like something should be happening, like you should be doing something. For some reason, you couldn't make yourself to do the things you felt you should be doing.
Soon everything has become a bother. Tasks you could usually do with one hand were suddenly so hard that by the end of the day, the thought of bathing or changing into clean clothes made you want to scream until your throat was sore. And so you chipped away at your routine that you so painstainkingly built when you appeared in this time, until the only remaining activities in your days were your work and some basic necessities.
You knew it was getting bad. And it constantly created an almost numbing whirlwind of emotions you really didn't need right now. Why was this happening? What brought it on? Why now?? Is it going to get worse? All these questions and none you had an answer to. You had guesses and various techniques you learnt here and there back in your time, but...you couldn't bring yourself to do anything.
You were trapped. At least it felt like it. Trapped inside yourself, inside your mind. You knew you should tell someone, that if you let it go on, it would sooner or later consume you. But you couldn't do anything. It was as if your body didn't listen to you.
It seemed the residents were starting to get suspicious of your strange mood as of late. There were times when one of them would approach you and carefully ask about your wellbeing, and as much as you wanted to say something, you never did. You logically knew that the first step would be the one to break through the loop, the one that would make all the others just a little bit easier until you felt normal again. But anytime you tried to break through the selfdestructive habits you had fallen into, a wave of such tirednes, nausea and shame overcame you, that you simply caved to your mind's twisted whispers.
You concluded that your best option at this moment was to lay low and let it pass. Your days have become a steady routine of wake up, work, go to bed. And repeat. It was manageable, at first, even with the onslaught of thoughts your mind was conjuring, managing to come up with more and more ways to taunt you with. But as days and then weeks passed, your energy slowly seeped away from your body and it retaliated by shutting off and out anything unnecessary to save as much of what was remaining.
These things included mostly socialising. You became less talkative, while you would usually enthusiastically engage in conversations, if not outright start them, lately you would not speak unles directly spoken to. It has taken a toll on your concentration as well. Many times when someone would try to strike up a conversation with you, they'd have to repeat their question or even call out your name mid-conversation, because mentally you just weren't there. These things not only started to worry Sebastian, your biggest constant in your new life, given that you worked alongside him every day, but also the other residents. You knew of this, as out of it as you might have seemed and/or have been these past few weeks, you knew that they noticed, because you knew them. But what started as a simple snowball had alrady turned into an avalanche and you had to admit that you were no longer in control.
Not that you really cared. You knew you should care, should be trying harder than ever to break out of this spell, but you couldn't. And every time you might have felt strong enough to confess how you were feeling, to lean on someone, to get the help you knew you needed, a sudden pang of fear pierced your chest and you shrivelled back, back into your own small shell that was your skull.
Trying to find a reason for this foolish anxiety proved not so easy, when your mind would make up about five reasons why you should keep your mouth shut every time you even dared to ask yourself such a question.
What if they didn't believe you?
What if it wasn't not that bad?
What if you were just making it up? Making it seem bigger than it is?
These people have gone through so much. They've seen war, witnessed and felt abuse and probably had been through things you couldn't even imagine. Why should they help you, when they're the ones who needed help?
You were not worthy.
Such comparisons were something you chastised anyone who would confess experiencing them for. And yet, when it came to you, it felt like a holy truth. Something that could not and should not be questioned. Because you don't want to be selfish, do you?
You've dealt with this by yourself before, surely you could do it again and not drag down others with you. These and many others became your daily mantras. Lay low, hide, be small, don't make a noise. Survive. But was that really how you wanted to live? If you could even call that a living. You were surviving, yes, but at what cost? For a promise of a period of time where you wouldn't feel like the world is made out of cardboard? A period of time where you wouldn't feel like screaming and crying every second of every day? And how long would that last? A few months, a year maybe? Was it really worth the struggle?
You blinked yourself out of your thoughts when someone vigorously snapped in front of your eyes. Looking around in slight daze, your eyes fall upon a smiling face. "There you are! Theo says he's just waiting for you to walk face first into a wall!" Arthur says cheerily, showing you his signature smirk. "I, like the good friend I am, keep defending you of course. But it's hard when your mind seems to get further and further away from us every day. At this rate, you'll wander off into Seine soon. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" he playfully jabbed at you.
You could feel yourself shaking your head, but the only thing you could focus on was how nice it acually seemed, the cold water seeping through clothes and circling your limbs, the undercurrents keeping you down, where nothing could get you, laying you down onto the riverbed, weighed by the water in your lungs... "So, what's going on in that noggin of yours, hm?"
Arthur was, besides Sebastian, the closest person to you out of all the others. You enjoyed his easygoing demeanor and his jokes never failed to make you laugh. He was a terrible flirt though, and someties could be pretty pushy with his advances as you've realised over the time you two spent together. Luckilly, after a firm conversation backed up by Theo, he had calmed down significantly towards you. The writer still heavily complimented you, always putting that silver tongue of his to use, but you thought nothing of it. He was like that with everyone, even some of the other residents, so the possibility of it ever meaning anything more than banter or a simple compliment never even crossed your mind.
"You're doing it again." the man in question sighed. You blinked at him with confusion. As if reading your thoughts, Arthur clarified "You're in your head again. It must be something really interesting in there to make you so distracted." he joked again, but his expression turned serious "But honestly, what's going on? You haven't been yourself for quite a while now and everyone's getting worried. Even Wolf asked me if I knew what was up with you the other day!" the writer looked at you intently "You know that we're here for you, right? Even if you feel like it's stupid, if you need anything, you can tell us."
You averted your eyes from Arthur' piercing gaze. You knew his words were sincere and it made your chest squeeze uncomfortably. Looking straight ahead, in the direction which you were going, you answered, trying to make your voice as leveled as you could "Thank you for worrying Arthur, but I'm alright, really. I've been thinking of asking le Comte for a break. It would be nice to have some off time." This wasn't a complete lie, since having some down time, where you could pretend time has stopped really did sound appealing, but now you'd have to actually go and ask the good count, which you really didn't want to. Not because you were worried you wouldn't be given a break, but because it was another plan to be made and you barely had enough energy to last you until the end of the day, much less go somewhere out of your own volition.
Arthur knew that you were lying, or at least not telling him everything, so he grinned at you again and spoke confidently "Alright, love, the game is on! I gave you a chance to explain youself, but it seems I'll have to solve this mystery myself." he winked at you and you expected him to take his leave. But Arthur softly grabbed your arm and stopped you in the middle of the halway you were in. Turning to face him in his hold you looked at him questioningly. His smile is much softer now, and if you could focus properly, you would see worry glinting in his eyes "If you ever change your mind, you can stop by. Day, night, doen't matter. We're here for you, love. I'm here for you. Just as much as you're here for us." and as soon as he finished speakig, he was gone. Down the hallway, in the direction of his room. You quietly turned around, trying to process the strange encounter while you went your way.
Your mind was surprisingly quiet for a few hours after that.
You eventually did end up in le Comte's study. Nerves were wracking your body and mind the entire day and when you finally did enter the dreaded room, after all your chores were done for the day, you felt like you would start crying at any moment. For some reason, you felt awful for doing this. You didn't need the break. You didn't need off time to get better physically or because you had too many chores. Why did you want a break, besides Arthur catching on that there was, indeed, something wrong? The only thing you had planned for this break of yours was rotting away in your bed and doing as little as humanely possible. Maybe fate would be so kind and take you away in your sleep. Let you wither away like an overwatered flower.
You tried to make the discussion as quick as possible. Fortunately, the count didn't ask too many questions about your wellbeing and the reason for taking a break, remembering well that you haven't had one in a good while. He did ask if you consulted Sebas about it and you forced down a shudder at the mention of your good friend's name. Not because the butler was opposed to you taking a break, he actually kindly insisted you take one, revealing that he also noticed your mental absence in the past weeks, which could be almost counted as a month now. The worry and confusion in his tone as well as his expression made you wish he told you to stay, to help him, anything to try and convince you to not do what you were about to.
Why were you so worried? There wasn't a reason you should feel bad about taking a break. Even if you physically were just as spry as a grasshopper, taking a break for the sake of mental health was just as important. But deep down, you coudn't lie to yourself. Deep down you knew you were going to give up completely. Either for someone to find you, or to be left to rot. And right now, you hoped for the latter, even if it was still scary to admit.
After Comte gave you a week off, asking if it was enough time for you, which you hastily confirmed, feeling bile rise up your throat and wishing for the comfines of your room, your shaky legs and hazy mind managed to carry you to your room. After spending some time emptying the contents of your stomach, which were absolutely too small you would bet, you nothing but collapsed onto your bed. Mouth unrinsed, hair oily and ruffled, it had finally dawned on you how much of a mess you must have loked like. This realisation finally seemed to open the dam that was holding back everything you were feeling. The disgust, the shame, the fear, the anxiety the heavines, the loneliness, but most importnatly the longing.
Fast, salty tears carried all of that out of your body, leaving your face a puffy, sticky mess. Suddenly, you felt rage boil inside of your chest, sprading quickly to your head. Why didn't you say anything? You were so worried and because of what? Your own mind? Could you be any more stupid? The very same mind that put you through absolute hell this past month was now angry at itself, at its own actions. Why did the world have to be this cruel? Why couldn't it grant you the simple request of a mind that would not try to sabotage itself? And now it was too late.
Yo chose this, you thought to yourself. You chose this and these were the consequences of your actions. As if the tears have released all your pent up frustration in your body, all that it left was numbness. A kind of numbness that made your eyelids heavy, making them gravitate towards each other and pulling you into a deep, calm slumber. The kind of slumber you have not been able to achieve for more than the month you've been actively suffering. But also the kind of slumber that would not bring you closer to salvation.
You woke up, not knowing the time and not really finding yourself caring either. You felt strangely...calm. There was no hunger, no thirst, nothing. Only suffocating quiet, the likes of which you would feel in the deep blue of the ocean. You laid stil for what felt like hours, but could have also been minutes, before you succumbed to unconsciousness again.
This has gone on for a few days of your week long break. At one point you felt the pang of hunger, yet you had no will to satiate it. You only rose from your bed late into the night, when the squeezing walls of your stomach, at this point surely eating itself, threatened to spill nothing but its own acid. You tiptoed as quietly as your stiff muscles could into the kitchen, and after munching on some bread and water, because even though you got up, you still didn't feel like cooking, or that you deserved anything more than the simplest of dishes, you quietly stalked the halls back into your room. You fell asleep again, your stomach satisfied, or maybe convinced into satisfaction by your mind, the last thing you heard was the faint sound of Mozart's piano in the dead of the night.
This cycle had repeated for another few days. Your days were interrupted by quiet knocking that would wake you from your slow decline, and sometimes joined by murmurs behind the door. You couldn't find it in you to care. The door wasn't locked. At one point, you could swear you saw a shadow in your window, but it was gone too soon for your slowed mind to focus on it.
One morning, somewhere at the end of your break, not that you were keeping track of time, your door opened. A gust of fresh air was the first thing that barged its way into your room, chasing out the old and musty, albeit warm air from it. You shivered and wiggled deeper under your covers, grumbling hoarsely in protest. Your half asleep mind registered someone slowly walking into your room, as if they were scared to find out what was in it. You kept your eyes closed.
Arthur knelt down beside your bed, looking at your sickly, worn out face. Carefully sneaking his arm under your blanket, his hand searched for yours until it could take it into its own. Caressing your knuckles with his thumb, he cooed softly "Oh, love. I am so sorry. I am so sorry we let this get so far." You didn't respond. What was there to say? "It isn't your fault" you croaked out quietly, not having enough energy to say it loudly and fearing your voice wouldn't work.
"Why did you hide from us? We would've helped..." the writer almost whined, and you could feel the guilt and worry radiating from him. You wanted so desperately to answer, to give him a good reason for how foolish you were acting, but you couldn't. There was nothing that would excuse you. Nothing.
Seeing your slightly open eyes well up with tears, Arthur rushed closer to comfort you. Shushing and soothing you like a small child after a booster shot, he held you close and you tried not to weep hader. "It's alright, love, everything is alright. I've got you. I've got you now, it's good. You're alright."
After you calmed down slightly, you wanted nothing more than to shoo him away, close yourself off again an bury yourself into your bed to get away from the immense shame you felt. But Arthur seemed to be having none of that. He softly but insistently reached under you and helped you sit up with one arm, holding your hand with the other still. you couldn't bring yourslf to look him in the eye and yet his tone never changed from the soft lull he comforted you with. "Come on now, darling. Let's get you cleaned up."
Your mind wanted desperately to push back at him, scream and yell and fight, but you almost limply let him straighten you up and help you walk over to the bathroom. The writer's heart nearly broke in two as he saw you in the same clothes you were in when he last spoke to you. The image of you suffering in silence for so long made him nearly tear up as well, but he held himself back, focusing on you being his biggest priority.
He ran a bath for you, helped you out of your clothes, his gaze never cascading from your face, looking for any signs of overstepping any boundaries and when he found none, he helped you into the bathtub, first washing your hair and then your body, asking if you could and wanted to handle your private parts yourself. You whispered out a small yes, feeling somewhat ashamed still and wanting to make his efforts a bit easier. Letting you soak in the blissfully warm water, a question appeared in your mind "Arthur..." you called out quietly "Were you the one knocking at my door?" you asked timidly, not knowing fully if it wasn't some kind of delirium your mind put you through. The writer's face became solemn as you took a peek at his face and he spoke, his words and tone equally heavy "Everyone did. We were worried about you. After we heard about your break, we thought it might do you well. Everyone noticed that you weren't quite yourself. But after the first few days, when no one ever saw you leave the mansion, let alone your room, our worries doubled. Wolf said he noticed you walking to the kitchen at night, but Sebas only noticed small portions of bread disappearing from the kitchen, so we wanted to check up on you. We tried knocking at your door, not wanting to disturb you if you really were physically ill, but that didn't do anything." "And the window?" you interrupted him, casting your eyes downward again at the rude gesture. But Arthur continued, with no offense taken "That was Dazai. He was checking up on you a lot. In his own way." Arthur smiled sadly "Today, I had enough. Something was telling me you needed help. And I'm glad I listened to my instinct." he smiled at you and you felt your dry lips lift up ever so slightly. You were found when you needed it the most, it seemed.
After Arthur dried you off and helped you put on fresh clothes, he told you Sebas made a nutritious meal for you that wouldn't upset your stomach. He also suggested it would do you good to get out of your room for at least a little while and eat it in the kitchen. Seeing the panic in your eyes, he rushed to assure you "You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to." And so you nodded.
The mansion seemed awfully quiet. There was no one in the halls, no sounds from either corner of the building. On your slow trek to the kitchen, you passed Mozart. The musician didn't say anything, but his lips melted from their usual stern frown to a warm smile and you couldn't help but to start crying again. Athur sat down with you on the cold ground of the hallway, pulling you onto his lap and rocking you back and forth until you felt good enough to walk again. Mozart was nowhere in sight.
You found out that Sebas made you a delicious soup, one with enough vegetables and some meat, the broth strong enough to get you up on your feet in no time. You ate slowly and savoured every spoonful. You suddenly realised how much you've missed eating good food. After your meal was done and Arthur washed your bowl and spoon in silence, he slowly sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?" he asked carefully, knowing that you were nowhere near out of the deep end yet, but desperately hoping his efforts weren't for naught. "Better. Fuller." you answered simply. After another beat of comfortable silence, where you soaked up the sun pouring in through the windows, the writer asked again "Would you like to go back to your room?" You pursed your lips. Suddenly, the idea of your bed and the stuffy room you hid yourself away in sounded horrible. But he comfortable, fluffy clothes and full stomach were pullig at your eyelids again, sleep threatening to take over. "My room it is, then?"
Arthur piped up and you nodded. Before you knew it, you were scooped up bridal style by the vampire, feeling his soft lips on your hairline "Rest, love. I've got you." Soon, you were in a room that smelled of coffe and cologne with a hint of ink. Once again, you wriggled under the covers, these ones feeling much fresher than yours, as you succumbed to sleep once again. But this time, you weren't alone.
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oigimi · 4 months
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. warm drinks .
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. arthur x reader . 1k words . day 1 of 12 days of arthur .
I sighed and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace. A hard day’s work had gotten to me, and my body physically couldn’t support itself any longer. Cleaning after ten vampires was not for the faint of heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, not because I was particularly sleepy, moreso due to fatigue. My eyelids couldn’t remain up anymore, and as they got heavier, I started to succumb to the spell over me. Just a few more moments…
“Ah, there you are, bird,” a familiar voice chimed. I didn’t open my eyes, but my other senses quickly registered who it was: The mansion flirt and prolific mystery author Arthur Conan Doyle. I sat up and stretched, taking a sharp inhale. 
“What do you want?”
“What do I want? I don’t know if you’d like the true answer,” Arthur chuckled. “Well it’s quite late and we haven’t seen you in hours.”
I blinked. “What do you mean? It’s only nine o’clock.”
“I disagree. The clock does too,” Arthur mused, pointing to the clock on the wall.
“Jesus, it’s two-?! I didn’t even realize, I just wanted to rest for a sec.” I rubbed my head and stood up. “No wonder I’m aching so badly. Jeez, my back hurts so bad.”
Arthur laughed a little bit. “Poor thing. If you’d fallen asleep in my bed I think you would have had a much better time.” Satisfied with the pout on my face, he looked around the room. “Alright, alright. Come on, I know what’ll make you feel better.”
“Oh really? And what’s that gonna be? A full body massage or something?”
“Don’t give me ideas! No, you’ll like this.” He led me through the dark hallway, almost reaching for my hand at one point before remembering we knew where we were. I couldn’t help but smile. Arthur was a lot of things. He was flirty, he was smart, he was determined, he was sometimes annoying, but deep down inside, he had a heart too big for him to know what to do with it. I could tell how much he cared for the other residents. He teased Isaac because he liked spending time with him. He was always around Theo despite his rough exterior because he understood him like no one other than Vincent. He was grateful for Comte and Sebastian. He coated his true feelings in a thick layer of frivolousness, refusing to let anybody peel it back. That was why he was leading me down this hallway. That was why he cared enough to look for me. And that was why I needed to begin trying to peel as much as I could until I got to the center one day.
“Okay, tell the truth. What’s happening?”
“Nothing! Nothing. You’re so abrasive, love. Here.” He entered the kitchen and turned the lights on. “Let’s get you to bed soon, but first…” With a few swift motions, he got out some milk and dark chocolate out. “I figured you’d need something to drink.”
I once again blinked quickly, and felt a swift, sharp pang in my chest. He was making hot chocolate for me? Really…? I had completed my psychoanalysis earlier, but it was still hard to fathom someone like him doing something so nice for me specifically. A man treating me sweetly, who ever could’ve thought? “Ah… thank you. Here!” I got on my toes and opened the cabinet, grabbing two china cups and a shaker of nutmeg. “Let’s drink it out of these. And it tastes better when you add nutmeg than sugar, in my opinion.”
“Nutmeg? Alright then. Are you sure we should drink out of those? You’re pulling out all the stops for me, I’m flattered. I hardly see you and Sebas using them. They must be for special occasions. Do you consider this a special occasion, (Y/N)?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, really.” We heated up the chocolate and watched it boil. It wasn’t the only thing warming up; I felt my cheeks and ears slowly becoming pink as I became more aware of the intimacy of such a domestic situation. I turned my head to try and steal a glance at Arthur, who looked away from me. Apparently he was attempting to do the same. But why wasn’t he performing his usual schtick? 
“The chocolate is done,” he hummed, going to take it off the heat. Arthur poured it into the two cups, and added some warmed milk and nutmeg into both of them. “I hope you’re right about the nutmeg. I can’t say I’ve ever tried it with chocolate before.”
“Really? It seems so popular though!”
“Indeed it is, but I’m not a trend follower, am I?”
“Uh huh.” I laughed and sat down at the table, feeling some of the tension leave my body. “Alright, bottoms up.”
We each took a sip of the chocolate, and let out our own satisfied sounds in perfect sync. 
Arthur looked down at his cup and took another sip. “Mm, I daresay this is the best chocolate I’ve ever had. Perhaps it’s your nutmeg, perhaps it’s because you’re with me.”
“I might be able to say the same, really. Thanks, Arthur.”
“Oh? And why are you thanking me?” He rested his head on his hand, smiling a little bit. “For our time together?”
I nodded, huffing a little bit. “Yeah, I am! It means a lot to me, you know. Seeking me out so late and making something nice for me… It’s small but it really means something, you know. I think you’re a lot more genuine of a guy than you let on.”
He stared at me for a moment, a little stunned. “Well, if that’s how you feel.” Grinning again, he wrapped an arm around me and gently rested my head on his shoulder. I sighed again, this time, a little bit more peacefully. He smelled like fresh parchment and ink. I could’ve just basked in it forever, paired with his cologne and strong shoulders… My eyelids grew even heavier, and before I knew it I was asleep again.
Arthur kissed the top of my head, rubbing my side gently. “Goodnight…”
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niphredil-14 · 1 month
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I’m reentering my Ikevamp phase. Send me the links to your favorite ikevamp fics!!
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syneilesis · 8 months
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[fic] A Victorious Conquest
A Victorious Conquest
Ikemen Vampire | Arthur Conan Doyle x f!Reader | G | 499 words ao3 link (later)
You're alone in a pub, and a gorgeous man approaches you.
A/N: Another one for @cy-inky's one week challenge! This time the prompt is "Gosh, you are so beautiful." It's a detective AU; dunno whether this is modern setting or canon setting though, you decide! :D
Divider by @/saradika.
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The dim lighting of the pub invites mystery and danger, and you're used to the cozy glow of coffee shops and libraries, where there is less noise, just soft murmurs enclosed in each table. The barman slams the mug in front of you, the beer sloshing inside, almost spilling, and you snatch your arms away from the counter. When it settles, you place your arms back, one hand tracing the mug handle, lost in thought.
Behind you: raucous conversations and ribald singing that have you chuckling to yourself with the absolute knowledge that you're out of place. To commemorate, you lift your mug and down your beer in one long gulp.
A body sidles up to your right, perching on a stool next to you.
“A gorgeous lady like you drinking like that ...” a flirty, masculine voice begins, “it catches attention, you know?”
The beer is half empty when you put it back on the table. In your periphery: crystal teal hair wisping around a fist against a cheek. You turn towards the source of the voice.
A beautiful man with a cheeky smile welcomes your sight.
“Whose attention?” you ask.
The man looks around as if gesturing at the entire pub. “What's your purpose coming here?”
“I wanted to meet someone.”
His expression grows intrigued. “Oh? A fantastical night, perhaps?”
You smile faintly. “Something like that.”
“And you're alone right now? How brave.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Definitely.” He dips his head closer to yours, as if sharing a secret. When he speaks again, his breath tickles your ear. “Did you know that there have been a string of murders lately? I just worry for a lovely lady alone at a pub in the middle of the night. If you want, I can offer you protection...?”
A tempting offer, really. Amused, you turn your head slightly in his direction, lips an inch away from his. You hear his breath catch. “Gosh, you are so beautiful, you know?” you whisper back. “That's nice of you, truly, but you shouldn't scare somebody with that kind of rumor.”
He leans back, an inchoate grin in place. “It's all true. In fact, I'm a consulting detective for these cases.”
“Oh my.”
“So take my word for it when I say Paris has become dangerous lately. You never know ...” Then his demeanor suddenly shifts, sharpening. Darkening. “Unless you have a reason to remain confident of your safety?”
Ah. The smile that stretches your mouth is now indulgent, and the man narrows his gaze.
“Don't worry, sir—”
“Arthur.”
“Don't worry, Sir Arthur. You needn't concern yourself with me. Now then, it's time for me to leave—” You push yourself off your seat, nodding at him, and go on your way. “Thank you for the warning, Sir Arthur.”
Behind you Arthur calls out, “I never got your name, darling.”
You stop, turn back to him, and smile your most coquettish smile.
“Ah, yes. You may call me Lady Moriarty.”
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alby-rei · 16 days
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Comte's Ghost Mansion (IkeVamp; Luig's Mansion AU) Part 4
a/n: What do you mean this silly ghost AU has LORE??? What will you do against a playful ghost who can split himself into multiples? Only one way to find out! Happy reading~ ✨
Tags: Humor, Crack treated seriously, Luigi’s Mansion AU, Spooky scary spectral vampires, Ghostbuster MC Word Count: ~1900 words Characters: You, Sebastian, Ghost!Arthur Previous: Part 3 Next: Part 5
~*~
You returned to Sebastian, retelling the events of your incursion. The rain had stopped by now and the clouds parted. He scrawled furiously in his notebook, like your words were made of gold. You expected him to be mad at you for capturing a couple of his esteemed residents.
“While I should be, I’m more impressed that you succeeded at all. They’ll be fine. Keep up the good work.”
He took the Poltergust off your shoulders.
“I suppose an explanation is in order,” he said.
“About time, yeah.”
“Follow me.”
Sebastian ushered you into the garden shed. It was a lot bigger than its exterior suggested. Sebastian unlocked a compartment at the bottom of the machine. Two portrait paintings emerged, one for each captured resident. The musician maintained the scowl he wore upon capture while the trapeze artist smiled ear to ear with his eyes closed.
“He’s a writer actually,” Sebastian corrected you regarding the latter.
“A clown-ish one,” you added.
Sebastian chuckled. “It’s part of his charm. Come, I made you some food. You must be starving.”
“Yes, please!”
He asked for your choice of beverage, impressing you with the variety he listed. Alongside it, he brought you some bread, cheese, and a handful of washed grapes.
“I grew them myself in this garden,” said Sebastian, referring to the grapes.
You thanked him for the food. While nowhere near a full meal, it regained some of your energy.
“How long till the sunrise?” You asked.
“Not for another six hours or so.”
This was going to be a long night.
A yawn escaped past your lips, but you had no desire to sleep. You returned the conversation to the portrait paintings. Sebastian explained that the residents weren’t originally ghosts, but some mysterious event caused their spirits to roam at night.
One of the residents, a bright-minded inventor, built the Poltergust 1899 to take care of that. As the only unaffected human, it was Sebastian’s job to capture them, lest they escaped the mansion and never returned.
Every night, Sebastian patrolled the halls. And every morning, he placed the portrait painting above their bed to return the spirit to its vessel. When the residents woke up, they retained no memory of their ghostly wandering.
“And what made you think it was okay to put me in harm’s way?” You said, quirking an eyebrow.
“Harm? They won’t hurt you. Unless you disturbed them in some way, like I had specifically instructed you not to.”
You mumbled some excuse, but Sebastian was not convinced. What you had not noticed before were the dark circles under his eyes. Fighting off those ghosts was not so terrible, you persuaded yourself, and you had nothing else to do for the next six sleepless hours. It was kind of fun, in a strange way. A far departure from your regular life. And if it all turned out to be a dream, you wanted to see it through till the end.
After a good while of rest, you asked Sebastian to hand over the refueled Poltergust.
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re willing to go back in?”
“You, sir, still need to find me a way home. But until then, I’ll take care of it.”
He thanked you profusely and became quite animated. Upon seeing your shocked face, he pardoned his excitement and returned to his stoic self.
To ease your journey, he replaced the residents’ belongings in your pouch with a master key and a map.
You decided to explore the west wing this time. The first unlocked door revealed a massive library with aisles of bookshelves on two floors.
You’ve come to realize that everything in this mansion was so…grand. No wonder the butler looked tired. If he held sole responsibility for the whole manor’s upkeep, of course he would jump at the opportunity to enlist your help.
Walking by the bookshelves, your bookworm heart could not help but inspect the titles of each aisle. Most of them were written in French, some were in English, and the rest were new to you.
Something skittered down from the ceiling. It was a colony of cotton-like creatures with little bat wings and dotted black eyes. You waved the tube of the Poltergust at them, but they weren't affected by your presence. They seemed harmless. Cute, even.
"There you are, Sebas!" A voice called out behind you.
You tried to turn around, but you could not move, as though you were tied up. "Oh dear, you're not Sebastian at all." The voice lilted, sounding amused rather than disappointed.
"Let me go!" You wiggled as hard as you could. As you did, the invisible rope around you took shape as two tweed-covered arms.
"Easy there, dove. It wouldn't do for a pretty bird to injure itself in its haste."
You pushed your elbows as far back as you could; you just needed to reach the switch on the machine.
"Where are my manners? The name's Arthur, mystery writer at your service, but you can call me anytime." He winked.
Another writer, another clown. But some things were better left unsaid, you reminded yourself. You implored him again to release you.
“Humor me, why don’t you? I’ve been deprived of good company for so long.” You could practically see his pouty lips and puppy-dog eyes matching his tone. “Oh, I’ve got it! Let’s play a game, shall we?”
He let you go. Just as before, when you reached for the doorknob, it was locked. You readied your Poltergust 1899, bracing yourself for whatever he may throw at you.
When you turned back around, there were three of him. Three separate, identical copies of him. They all wore the same blue three-piece suit with a loose tie, just as they all wore the same cheeky grin.
“Turning your back in a duel may prove a fatal mistake, my dear,” said one of them. “But I am nothing if not a gentle-ghost. Here’s how this game works: Only one of us is the real Arthur. If you can catch the real me, you win. If you catch one of my clones, we get to play again.”
A one-in-three shot at nabbing the right one. Not the worst odds, you reckon, but choose incorrectly and you may find yourself stuck here way longer than your patience would allow. You had no negotiation power in the matter.
“Fine, I’ll play your little game.”
The three ghosts beamed excitedly, zipping around with incredible speed. They roamed freely in and out of the bookshelves. Every now and then, they would look back at you, like puppies making sure their master was still playing along.
It was one thing to play spot-the-difference when hovered side-by-side, it was another thing entirely when they were zooming around like children riding out a sugar rush. There must be some way to slow them down, you thought.
Your first attempt was to brute force it—aim at the nearest one and see what happens. You caught one on his path out of a bookshelf, but a well-timed levitating book took the hit and blocked the vacuum tube, allowing him to escape. It was a copy of ‘A Study in Scarlet’.
“Cheeky,” he lilted. “But I won’t go easy on you. Unless you could offer me something enticing in return.”
With every word he uttered, your desire to put him in his place only rose.
More books were pulled out of their stations to shield the frivolous phantoms. You tried to move them out of the way, similar to how you did with the violins, but these books were too light and stuck to your tube instantly. There was not enough resistance to redirect their course.
You needed a way to shoot them far enough to secure a capture.
You leaned against a bookshelf between the aisles to catch your breath. You had been running around with little success. Seeing you dispirited, the flirtatious triplets hovered around you, leaning out of the bookshelves with arms crossed.
“Well, this is no fun,” said the first in front of you.
“How about a hint?” said the second to your right.
“And a prize for your efforts!” said the third to your left.
While they chatted over ‘prize’ ideas, you look at each one properly. There actually were some differences between them. One of them, floating in front of you, pushed up his square-frame glasses, and you wondered if it had always been there. The one to your left wore a golden earring at the top of his right ear. It did not seem incorporeal like the rest of him. Like he wore it specifically for the occasion. The last one wore gloves of midnight black.
The earring bearer spoke next, “I can confidently tell you that I’m not the real Arthur.”
The one wearing gloves added, “In fact, he’s the real Arthur.” He pointed at the glasses-wearing ghost.
“Me?!” The accused shot back. “I say that’s a bold-faced lie!”
“And the best part,” said the third. “Only one of us is telling the truth. Good luck!”
And they were back to their zooming selves. The machine weighed you down the longer it remained on your back. It’s low rumble went from soothing to distracting as you tried to think.
If the second one is telling the truth…then the first one is lying. 
There was also the issue of the troublesome books that each one kept near and dear. You kept trying anyway. Each book that you caught was replaced by another. Half of the bookshelves were emptied by now. You wondered if there was a limit to their range. All the while, the frivolous phantoms observed your strategy with intrigue.
But if the first is lying, then there would be two real Arthurs. A contradiction.
The glasses-wearing one had a tendency to loop like an infinite symbol, like his course was predefined. The earring bearer always stayed in your vision, but just out of reach.
On the other hand, if the second is lying… then the glasses-wearer was telling the truth.
Another book obscured your aim. A copy of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’. In your frustration, you reversed the strength dial a little too far, and it shot the book up onto the second floor of the library.
And if that’s the case, then the first is lying, too. It’s worth a shot.
“Hey! That was one of my favorites,” said the earring-bearing ghost. He turned to fly after it, and that’s when your opportunity arose.  
It must be you!
With a strong conviction, you cranked up the strength of the Poltergust and aimed at the retreating ghost.
“Looks like turning your back was your fatal mistake, sir.”
As soon as his tail was caught in the machine, the other two phantoms vanished in a show of smoke.
You heard something clank against the floor. It was the golden earring, and beside it was a little treasure chest. Inside it was a brilliant blue gem, and a message saying, ‘Best two out of three?’
You rolled your eyes, trying your best to push down the smile that made your cheeks hurt. The click of the library door signaled that it was unlocked again. You sighed with relief and made your way down the hall to the next target with Sebastian’s map as your guide.   
~*~
Tagging: @starlitmanor-network
Back to Masterlist
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ikewhores · 11 months
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☆.。.:* welcome to our blog! here are the rules and our self intos, this blog is run by 3 people. by reading our work and interacting with us we assume you’re aware of this and have read our rules/introduction <3
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@ajaxsbeloved (navy) name; lee pronouns; any favorite characters; shakespeare, napoleon, mozart etc; dms are always open <3!!
@scarasweetheart (purple) name; aurelius (lius) pronouns; he/it/moon favorites; mozart, comte, vincent etc; literary genius but god nerfed me w all kinds of creative blocks
@riviifetish (icey blue) name; stanford (ford) pronouns; they/he/vex/mx.  favorites; leonardo, dazai, vlad, napoleon etc; surprisingly a lesbian
rules; - all ikevamp suitors are available for requests! we write them all but some more than others due to personal bias and/or lack of knowledge on characters - character x reader only  - smut + nsfw 100% allowed and encouraged - angst + fluff also allowed - no pedophillia, necrophillia, incest, lolitcon/shotacon, etc - no vore or extremely violent acts (especially in nsfw work) - please let us know if you want a specific author to write your request! - nonrequest in inbox is welcomed and encouraged
before you follow; - we will 100% be inconsistent with our writing and may even leave the blog untouched for numerous days/weeks/months -because there are 3 of us, our writing styles WILL be different but you will be able to see who has written what based on our signature colors :)  - lee is the blog owner so lius and ford may not get to your ask/request right away! if lee sees your ask/request in the inbox they’ll inform the others so that there’s no cross-answering 
*・῾ ᵎ⌇✧.* thank you for taking the time to read our introduction and rules! please dm us or send us an ask if you have any questions <3
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Hello againnnn xD ❤️❤️
How are you xD, i want to request HC again today xD
How about MC is famous too in her time like.. she is a singer or idol group (kpop) or model ? Just wanna see their reactions when they know, maybe from sebas cause they're from the same country xD
(arthot mozart isaac theo or someone else you like xD)
THANK YOU SO MUCH BEFORE ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Sincerely,
Your fan xD
Hey there! I'm back from the dead. It's been way too long and I'm so sorry, but school is finally over and I can take some time to actually sort my life out I really am sorry😭😅
But anyway I hope you enjoy this, it was nice to finally get back to writing after so long.
Famous MC/reader and the Ikevamp bois
~Let's just assume that Sebas is the one that shows the saved videos from his somehow still working phone bc Leo invented a cherger or smth let me have this
Arthot - KPop Idol
Ah yes
our friendly neighbourhood thot detective
He's just fascinated
Ahh~ Luv, as always you take my breath away, who would have thought you could move like that *wink*
He's a menace but we love him don't we
but in all honestly he's very surprised and proud
100% your biggest fan
He's so impressed that you can sing and dance like that
At the SAME TIME???!!
He is shooketh and happy
will ask you to sing to him sometime
Under all the inappropriate jokes, he's just happy for you and very exited to see more of your shows bc he's just blown away
Elsa Mozart - Singer
oK so our favorite popsicle is very excited
Some people this that he wouldn't enjoy modern music, but I think he'd be on board with a lot actually
he's just appreciate the diversity
so anyway he looks at you singing on stage and his frozen heart just melts
instant big fan
He's generally appreciate any music inclined mc , but this?
he finds it breath taking
so he's impressed, yeah
but will he show it?
NoPPe
neverrr
he just nods his head and hummms , and if you look closely you can see a little twinkle in his eye that isn't normally there
to anybody else it would seem rude, but we all know we can't get any other reaction from him
But he is impressed and will treat you differently, with more respect from that point on
if you are really sneaky, you can catch him humming your songs
Smoll apple boi ?smapple boi? Isaac - Model
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoohoho
He blushes so hard
All the blood in his body rushes up to his head
like he's going to bust a bloodvessel someone help-
he's very amazed and at loss for words
like damn you were beautiful before but nOw???
To much for his big brain to handle
in conclusion: Isaac.exe. has stopped working
Theodorkus - Singer
ok so I think he would be similar to Mozart
He's impressed
like very impressed
he recognizes the talent
But will he ever show it
Depends
if he's in a good mood he will chuckle a little and marvel at how amazing you are
then later maybe he'll bring it up and tell you he thinks you're awesome in his own way
you know
with lots of dog comparisons but we all know you're proud Theo
you can't fool us for a second, we're on to you
and so is Sebastian
Sebastian - KPop Idol
our one hell of a butler
oh wait
no, wrong fandom
anYwAy
He's a big fan
probably watched your shows before he became Ciel's Comte's butler
He will smile and show you the video too
small headpat and hair ruffle
will kiss your forehead an tell you your cool
sorry but I like to believe that he'd be more affectionate once he opens up to you ok
He's honestly just supportive in general and actually sweet about it
That is all, that you so much for sticking around I appreciate you. ✿😘If your like to be tagged in future posts feel free to ask, also if you have any ideas of what I should do next slide on into my askbox, requests are open!
Love you all! ~Lia♮
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Bad banana
Arthur : What the FUCK?? Arthur, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!
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azulashengrottospiano · 4 months
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SUMMARY: you tell them you burnt your tongue and ask them to kiss it better.
WARNINGS: arthur makes a suggestive comment because he's arthur.
COMMENTS: this was partly inspired by a conversation i had with @yanderepuck and the cat cafe au so if you want to think of them as catboys in this you can???
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mozart blushes, tearing his gaze away from you. you’re pouting, a cup of tea in your hands as you stare at him. “no.” he says flatly, hiding his face behind his teacup. he takes a sip to distract himself and jolts back at the sheer heat of the drink. “i’ll kiss you better then!” you beam, and he tries to push the thoughts of getting arthur away from you in the future out of his mind.
arthur blinks before bursting into laughter. “are you certain that’s what you want, love?” he asks, challenging you. you meet his challenge with an adamant nod, your teacup still in hand. “well,” arthur hums, getting up from his seat and offering you his hand, “how about we go somewhere more...private?”
isaac nearly chokes on his pastry when those words leave your mouth, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “i...i’m sorry, what did you just say?” he gasps for air, eyes searching your pouting face for answers. “i burnt my mouth,” you repeat, pointing to your lips, “can you kiss it better?” isaac flushes even brighter and fumbles for a napkin, passing it off to you with a dazed mumble of “maybe that will help instead!”
vincent’s eyes go wide and he blushes, blinking dumbly at you as if staring will change what you said. “are...are you sure that would help?” he asks softly, wetting his lips as his eyes dart to yours, “because um...i, well...i wouldn’t be against the idea.”
sebastian raises an inquisitive eyebrow, looking as composed as usual. “well, that’s awfully inconvenient. however will you taste your pastry now?” you see exactly what he’s planning as he reaches across the table, and you snatch the pastry away from him before he can grab it. sebastian chuckles, still leaning in. “well, if i can’t have your pastry, can i have something sweeter?”
will doesn’t seem phased at all. at first, you wonder if he even heard you right. but once he chuckles, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, you catch the sinister gleam in his eyes. “is that truly what you desire?” he asks, narrowing his gaze as you shudder with anticipation in your seat, “if my love requests that from me, i am in no position to refuse.”
charles immediately jumps out of his seat and runs to your side, sliding into the seat next to you at rapid speed. he leans in real close, eyes shimmering with excitement. “do you really?” he beams, breath fanning over your lips, “because i can kiss you as many times as you want, til you’re allllll better.”
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natimiles · 2 months
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Just let me adore you (Arthur)
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Summary: You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you. Arthur would just have to deal with it and not bother you again. But it’s easier said than done when you’re left alone on your own birthday.
Words: 1372
Tags: angst; unrequited love; hurt; no comfort; Arthur centric; Mozart is a bit of an asshole (sorry); no pronouns specified for reader.
Notes: I was re-reading some random parts from Living no Matsunaga-san and decided to write something for Ikevamp based on a scene there. I just realized Ryou and Levi kinda look alike. He is so precious; I loved him way more than Matsunaga.
I also listened to “Adore You” by Harry Styles, and now I see the lyrics from a whole different perspective. And the title for the fic comes from the song.
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It wasn’t fair.
You deserved so much better. You deserved to be treated like royalty, to be loved, to be taken care of. He had to ensure you were always smiling, always happy, never crying.
However, that’s not what happened.
Arthur could barely restrain himself seeing the tears streaming down your face. How many times has it been now? How many more are you gonna endure? He only made you cry. Mozart only made you cry.
The writer can’t remember when or why he fell for you; he only recalls losing his chance. He remembers talking to Theo, who encouraged him to take action quickly. With half of the mansion having developed feelings for you, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone else confessed.
He was gonna buy you flowers and a nice gift, confess, ask you out properly, and kiss you by the end of the date if he was lucky enough. But before he could finish his lunch to go to town, you and Mozart entered the dining room. 
The scene still haunts him.
Your emotionally overwhelmed face, the bright smile, the flushed cheeks… your hand holding his arm, and he smiling at you. Cutlery fell from hands, drinks were spilled, and he’s pretty sure he heard Isaac gasp and stop breathing by his side. You happily announced you were together, and the romantic music everybody was listening to that morning suddenly made sense. You were so happy. He just congratulated you, along with everyone else, and tried to move on. 
Way easier said than done.
He ended up confessing to you the first time he saw you in tears, going against all his principles of never hitting on a compromised person — much less one in such a vulnerable state! Yet, he did it. He poured his heart out, saying he loved and cherished you, that he would never make you cry. He would never choose his work over you, even if his work was so important to him.
Arthur apologized some time later; he didn’t want to give the impression he was trying to take advantage of your fragile moments. So, he waited for things to calm down and confessed again.
You kindly turned him down both times, and he accepted it with a sad smile and a broken heart. Your heart didn’t belong to him; it belonged to the musician. You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you — despite not being good at showing it, apparently. He’d just have to deal with it and not bother you with this again.
However, there was so much he could take.
He is leaving the mansion when he sees you standing just outside the door, with a lost gaze, tears streaming down your face. He holds you by the shoulders before he thinks better of his actions, but you don’t seem to mind it. You look at him with the saddest expression he’s ever seen on your face, and he knows.
He doesn’t ask what happened; he doesn’t have to. He simply turns you around and guides you by the shoulders back inside the mansion. He takes you to your room and sits you on your bed, observing how you quietly comply.
“I’ll be right back, okay, luv?” he speaks softly, and you just nod once, your gaze lingering on the floor.
He goes to the kitchen, prepares your favorite tea, and brews some coffee for himself. He considers getting something for you to eat too, but you probably don't want to. He arranges two mugs on the tray and returns to your room. You're in the exact same spot and in the exact same state as he left you, and it hurts him to see you so... numb.
He places the tray on your nightstand and goes to your en suite to grab a towel. Sitting down beside you, he reaches for your face, placing his finger under your chin and lifting it slightly to get a better look at you. Silently, he gently passes the towel over your wet cheeks.
"Try to warm up a little now, won’t you?” He offers you the tea, closing your hands around the mug and holding them in place with his own for a moment longer. “It’s your favorite.”
You just nod again, not really in the mood for talking — and you’re not even sure you’ll be able to say something without crying again. He grabs his mug, and you two drink silently, appreciating your own beverages.
"You… won’t ask?" you inquire after some time. Your voice is so low that he thinks he wouldn’t hear you if he weren’t a vampire with great hearing. It cracks another part of his heart open.
Arthur shakes his head and takes your empty mug back, putting it on the tray with his. “I don’t have to,” he says softly.
He wants to, though. A dark part of him would like to hear you dissing Mozart; perhaps you’d realize that he could be better than the musician — he would certainly try to.
Mozart went out early and hasn’t come back yet, probably too busy with the new concert he is working on. Usually, Arthur would find his hard work relatable; he got too invested in his writing too, losing night after night of sleep sometimes. However, it was your birthday today. Your lover set a birthday date with you and left you standing outside the mansion because of work.
“I wouldn’t do it,” he blurts out in a whisper, completing his thoughts aloud. “If you chose me, I’d never make you cry.”
“Arthur…”
“I want to make you happy. I need you to be.” He reaches for you, cradling your face with a gentle touch. He smiles, but it’s sad and broken, and it doesn’t reach his sorrowful gaze. “You don’t have to love me back… But I love you so much, I can’t take it anymore.”
You’re taken aback. Your breath catches in your throat, your tears drying almost instantly, and a cold shock passes through your whole body. After two confessions, you thought you’d be used to him professing his love. But this… This is so much more. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You can practically see him offering his heart on his hands for you. 
“What…” you attempt to speak, but your words falter, lost in the whirlwind of emotions.
Only then does Arthur realize what he just said, widening his eyes. He lets his hands fall limp into his lap, sighing and averting his gaze while mentally cursing himself. He was supposed to be smart, so why does he often act like a fool in front of you? Love really messes with one’s mind.
He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, obviously nervous. He grasps his bangs, tightening his grip in an attempt to stop himself from being an idiot and start acting like a proper man.
“Sorry. This burden is the last thing you need right now,” he mutters, his voice the weakest you’ve ever heard from him. Arthur takes a deep breath and stands up. “But if you… If you need something, you can always call me.” He takes the empty tray and heads to the door, but then he seems to remember something and turns back to you again, forcing a better smile. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
His expression falters the moment he closes the door behind him. Arthur heads straight to his own bedroom, not even bothering to bring the tray to the kitchen; he can do it later. Right now, he just needs to lie down and hope the earth swallows him whole before he embarrasses himself again.
He needs to stop it, he knows that. How is he supposed to control his heart, though? He tried to drown this feeling with different people in town, but he always ended up not wanting to spend the night with them. They weren’t you.
He places the tray on his coffee table and flops down on his bed, covering his eyes with his arm. He feels his blazer getting wet just a few seconds later and lets out a shaky sigh.
It’s going to be another long, lonely evening.
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Masterlists
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nuttytani · 5 months
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Would you love me if I were a worm? Featuring ikemen vampire cast. (With gender neutral reader)
(a/n: when you have too much free time and need your hands to be occupied. Some random bullshit begins to form on your notes)
Napoleon
He finds it funny, why would you turn into a worm?
After seeing your frown tho, he says ok ok yes I will love you
Mozart
Makes a disgusted face and turns you down
First of all, you won't turn into a worm. So why should he answer?
"if people can turn into vampires, why can't I turn into a worm?"
He kicks you out of his piano room
Dude has some thoughts to organise
Leonardo
Laughs at you and says, "what will you do if I say no?"
Pretends to forget about it but after some hours, he comes back to you
"no matter how and what you are or will turn into, I'll still love you"
Arthur
"is this some sort of trick question? Well the answer is obviously yes, my love!"
Vincent
Thinks deeply about it and smiles at you
"of course, I'll still love you. I think you'd make a cute worm too."
Theodorus
Scoffs at you and calls you an idiot
Why would you turn into a worm?
And by chance, you DID turn into one, how was he going to take care of you? There's so many worms out there in the world. What if you get lost and he gets some random worm instead and you, are lost and out in the cold, ready to be squashed by big feet.
Dazai
Uno reverses you instead
Now you're trapped
Would you love him if he was a worm?
Gets sad if you don't answer quickly enough
Sebastian
"I am not doing this right now. If you're free, wash those potatoes instead. I'm already busy as it is"
Stays silent for a while and then sighs
"no matter what, I'd love you always and forever"
Comte
Chuckles a bit at the thought and immediately replies yes
He'd give you a good environment to live in. Some really nutritious soil and compost. Maybe a tiny rock for you to play with
"Comte, you just need to say yes... No need to.... Elaborate on what else you'd do"
"Alright. Well, would you love me if I were a worm?"
Shakespeare
Is fascinated that you even came up with such a question
His answer is yes
But at the same time, he's coming up with scripts that include a dramatic romance between worms. For his own pleasure
Vlad
Says yes immediately.
Thinks you'd look like a cute worm
Maybe he'd put roses next to your habitat or in it.
Charles
"of course! In fact, we can both be worms together! We'll be a happy worm couple"
He's actually taking the idea too seriously and goes ahead making worm habitats and gets a book on "how to raise a worm"
Faust
"I'm not sure. Though I suppose researching on a worm wouldn't be that bad"
Seeing you look unimpressed, he just chuckles while patting your head
"I'm only joking. Of course I'd love you"
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oigimi · 4 months
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. performances .
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. arthur x reader . entry for day 2 of 12 days of arthur .
“Is he here yet?” I murmured to myself, trying to get a good look of the crowd from backstage. I had to do my best to not be seen, but god I wished I could get a good look at everyone present. It was closing night of our show. Six days of mayhem, six days of putting myself out there for everyone to see, six days of makeup that could make my skin break out like I’d never known before, and six days of hoping he’d show up. Any show came with aggressive advertising, and practically begging my friends to come see it, usually with some success. I’d seen my friends Theo and his brother Vincent, Isaac, Sebastian (who came multiple times), Leo, Napo, and everyone else in my circle. It was validating, having people come up to me and give me a big hug, couples with choruses of “You were amazing!” and “You were my favorite character!”
But none of it really mattered if he wasn’t there.
Arthur was the one I really wanted to see in the crowd. He was someone I’d only known for a few years, but I’d developed the biggest crush on him. His accent, his kindness, his talent, and his general sharpness encapsulated me. He was the kind of guy that someone can only dream of. Like a character in a story. He wrote a lot of those, too. His stories were so vivid, with imagery that was brewed in my mind like a stew with the finest ingredients. The characters, the settings, the emotions they felt drew me in so deeply I’d lose myself in them and blur the lines in my psyche to the point where I’d forget where I was at the end. And the most amazing part: He did all this while working his way into med school.
Poor guy had been so busy the last few weeks, but he said over the course of two weeks that he’d try his best to make it. With a confident smile and a twinkle in his eye, his promises eased my heart. But as each day came and went, as I came out for every curtain call, I hadn’t seen him. His sapphire eyes, the color and shine unlike those of anyone else in the world, were nowhere to be found. His smile was not in the sea of people rewarding our efforts with a standing ovation. “Don’t worry, he’ll be there next time,” I’d keep telling myself. But every time I didn’t see him was another crack in my lovestruck hopes that he’d be there. That hurt me more than anything, as I remembered his confident words of assurance.
As I retreated from my viewpoint, I came face to face with Will, who was performing in the show with me. He had a forlorn expression, making my heart pound a little harder. What was wrong? Was a light not working? Did someone get sick?
“We have sold all the tickets,” he murmured to me, and nothing more.
Will had known of my infatuation for months now, and he knew how excited I was about the idea of Arthur bearing witness to the show we had worked so hard to put on. He’d heard every time I gushed about him, every story I’d told about him and myself, every scenario in my mind where he would react to the show in different ways. And that’s why he had such a heavy expression, that only deepened as he witnessed the tears pooling up in my eyes.
“We are? But I don’t see him!” I whispered, so as to not echo my voice into the crowd. “He’s not here! Will!” I hugged myself and looked down, trying not to mess up my makeup I’d worked so hard on. A weep escaped me, I just couldn't help it. It felt stupid, especially because my other friends already came. It felt like I was being ungrateful, but through my rationale was the flood of emotions that I’d been hiding from Arthur the whole time. If he didn’t come to the show, it was like he didn’t return my feelings. It stopped being about the show a long time ago. I knew he was probably busy, but he’d promised. He promised me a sliver of his time. Honestly if he’d just said outright that he likely wasn’t going to be able to come, I’d probably have been spared a lot of heartache.
But the reality was that seats were filled, and Arthur wasn’t one of the people filling. The show must go on.
My presence in the wings wasn’t my presence backstage. As I stood waiting for my entrance, I did everything I could to suppress my feelings. I gulped, I sighed, I shook it all out, but it only worked a little bit. If I was being honest, nothing was really going to stop how I felt, but I could stop how I presented myself. I put my brave face on, swallowed my hopeless feelings, and stepped onto the stage with all the swagger I’d possessed before.
I did one last scan of the crowd, as a Hail Mary that maybe something would work out. Maybe the stars aligned and things would go my way. He’d be there. He’d be there just like he promised.
And what I saw startled me to the extent that I almost broke character. Sitting in the front row was none other than Arthur Conan Doyle, with the most focused expression I’d ever seen him bear. He was taking in every bit of what we were doing, eyeing the intricate set and the handmade costumes from our costumer Mitsuki. This changed everything. This absolutely changed everything!
All it took was one moment for everything bad I’d ever felt to evaporate. The rejuvenation was unlike anything I’d ever felt, like I had been born again. My lines became coated with a sort of vigor I hadn’t had until that moment. They came from the chest, louder and stronger than before. My triumphs, my losses, my highest and my lowest were all more pronounced than they had ever been. All thanks to the presence of the one I cared about the most. I had to do my best for him! I just had to perform like everything was at stake!
Like every show, it had to come to an end. The cast and I came out, hand in hand, to take our final bows. Our farewell to the months we’d spent crafting a play all of us were passionate about. One last hurrah before we parted forever. And as my gaze shifted back to the crowd, I could only focus on the blue-haired man who was the first to get on his feet. His confident grin wasn’t that anymore: It was a radiant, delighted smile that reached his eyes. His beautiful, brilliant blue eyes. This was it. This was the happiest I’d ever been post-show.
“You did positively fantastic, bird!” he laughed, scooping me up in a hug once we were able to meet in the theatre lobby. “I was starting to wonder if it was truly you, you are just wonderful at playing someone wholly different! I think you’d even be able to fool me one of those days with those acting skills of yours.”
“Oh no, I’m not that good!” I replied, hugging him back with all the force my body could muster. “I think you think too highly of me.”
“Nonsense, I don’t extend that praise to just anybody. You shone so brightly, even next to your co-stars.” He pulled away to get a good look at my face. “You’re quite red. Could it be that your performance was motivated by something else? Fueled with… Hm, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
I gulped, trying to hide the growing redness that apparently bled through my makeup. “N-no, I always perform that way! What are you trying to get at here?” Through my defense, I anticipated another teasing jab from Arthur. Was he catching on? Or worse, had he caught on long ago? Oh god, the thought was starting to make me dizzy.
“Well you were simply the best on that stage,” he hummed. “No one else had that sort of passion you did. And it was only when we made eye contact that this all seemed to kick in. It seems my presence boosted your performance. And that, coupled with your flushed little face seems to imply… love, perhaps?”
I stood, completely at a loss as to what to say. He’d cracked the case, like he always did. Digging my hole even further wasn’t going to help me in the long run. I sighed the heaviest sigh and nodded. “Yeah, maybe a little bit.”
“Just a little bit? That disappoints me. I must say that I feel very similarly about you. You’re quite cute when you’re embarrassed, you know.”
“Hey, I’m not- What?! What did you say?!”
Arthur chuckled, relaxing a bit. “I return your feelings, love. The passion you feel for me, I feel it for you too. How could I not? So you don’t have to worry. You don’t have to be embarrassed any longer. I’m truly in love with you.”
I soaked in every word he said, still wondering if I was in a dream. It seemed too good to be true. Well, whether or not I was in a dream, I knew I had to act. I stepped forward and hugged Arthur again, mashing my lips against his, to which he returned the favor.
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gunraekae · 6 months
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a day in the mansion for you
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>ikemen vampire
>mansion residents x reader
>a/n: for context, i'm the sort who enjoys seeing the casual interactions between the residents and the mc, so these are some hcs on what I imagine a day looks like for you. i sorta placed this as being in the first week mc arrives, before anything too serious happens, but you can interpret this whichever way you choose!
also apologies, i wasn't able to write for every single suitor as i haven't played most of their routes yet! I'll do a follow-up post when i finally finish them :))
Napoleon
Restrains Jean when he attacks you in the middle of the night
Comte enlists him to guard you and show you around Paris with Vincent, being the one that you trust the most in the beginning
Accompanies you and Isaac to the école, to help you be more at ease in the town
Part of your morning rounds: you wake him up
Part of your evening rounds: you talk about each other’s days, has dinner with you if you haven’t
Arthur
After asking Sebastian to fetch him Rouge, he prevents you from escaping (sorta does a reverse psychology thing)
Rightfully blaming himself for your dislike, he charms you with his intelligence through the lounge games; he wins a conversation with you and apologises on your date
When you encounter him on your town visit, the two of you are caught with a mysterious case that employs the two of you in your mystery solving adventures. 
Part of coffee addicts: your best customer, kisses you for every cup of coffee you bless him with
Part of breakfast gang: either there because he didn’t sleep or there because he slept too early
Leonardo
Spooked by the first night in the mansion, you lock yourself in your room until lunch, only to realize that Leonardo had stood guard outside your door the whole night
Remains quite protective, he calls himself your companion; finds you cooped up in the library and takes you with him on town visits
Part of coffee addicts: will come later, but will always be there
Part of your afternoon rounds: he magically finds you when you’re sad and will find some random event to cheer you up with
Jean
Starving and not in control, he unknowingly attacks you on your first night and incites you to escape
Overwhelmed, self-conscious, and wary, you spend much of the first week’s evenings in the library. To your shock, Jean is also there, learning how to write. Believing that it may be best for the two of you to reconcile, you teach him how to write. 
Helps you as much as possible with your chores, especially if it’s reaching high places or something that requires strength. 
Joins the residents in meals because of you
Listens to Mozart’s pieces with you
Part of your morning rounds: you have to remind him to eat
Vincent
Sympathetic to your predicament, he comforts you and shows you around Paris with Napoleon, being one of the few that you feel safe around
Invites you to a picnic with Theo
Enjoys your singing in the gardens while he paints and will frequent the outside the more you do it
Part of coffee addicts: might experiment with different roasts and enjoys it, but will like his coffee as black as possible
Part of breakfast gang: really only there to join Theo in the morning
Comte
Like a good sugar daddy, he takes you shopping and constantly spoils you. On the second day, he takes you to the town
Will ask for tea on the daily and constantly checks in on you; a most protective father figure, he keeps the residents in check
You’re his automatic partner any time he has to attend a social event (and of course he takes you shopping before). You’re his rumoured partner, and Comte does not quell those rumours he keeps them up. 
Part of your afternoon rounds: you have tea with him
Dazai
After cooping yourself up in your room, Dazai is the second you confide your troubles to. He’s always attuned to your emotions and understands your mental health struggles; always ready to lend an ear (because he’d rather everyone be happy before himself ahh) He’s almost invasive with how aware he is of you
Another frequent player in the lounge games, he doesn’t play seriously and is only really there to bring everyone’s mood up; don’t include gambling though, because he gets sorta crazy
Part of breakfast gang: horrible sleep schedule has him join the morning
Part of your afternoon rounds: any time you have errands in the garden, he’ll join you 
Theo
Partly due to his brother, and partly out of his own heart, he enlists you as an apprentice and they get to know the town
To bridge the gap between you and Arthur, he invites you to the lounge after dinner to play games
Teaches you the ropes of living in Paris: warns you, keeps you aware of current events, probably even helps you with your finances
Part of coffee addicts: likes your experimental sweet lattes
Part of breakfast gang: always present in the morning because he has to
Isaac
Cooped up in his room as well, Sebastian asks you to deliver his food to his room, believing him the most harmless. Isaac awkwardly welcomes you in his own way, accompanying you and Napoleon to their école
Also a frequenter of the lounge games, he attempts to impress you and win a date against Arthur
Part of breakfast gang: has to be there for his job, but enjoys whatever you make
Part of your evening rounds: sometimes he’ll be outside with his telescope, observing the stars. Once you felt comfortable, he asked you to join him
Mozart
Most intimidated by him, Sebastian forces you to deliver lunch to him. He’s cold, fussy, but would rather spend time with you than anyone else. Whenever he needs feedback or an audience for a piece, he’ll ask you first along with Jean. 
You’re his automatic partner any time he has a performance, partly because you comfort him in carriage rides, partly because he just wants you around
Part of coffee addicts: crawls to get coffee from you
Part of your evening rounds: you have to remind him to sleep
Part of your breakfast gang: organized routine but also terrible sleep schedule
Shakespeare
You met him after he gave you and Vincent tickets for one of his upcoming plays. When he approached the two of you, he gave such good banter and was so amicable, you swear it almost sounded practiced (haha)
He’ll sometimes join the residents for dinner. He’s begun to join a lot more often because having you around made Arthur and Theo much less hostile. After dinner, he makes a practice of talking to you in private, endlessly charming, but oddly invasive—like he’s studying you
Any time he has a new play, you're the first to get invited to watch it. Sometimes, if he's particularly frustrated or uninspired, he'll ask you to come to rehearsals with him.
You and Vincent sometimes visit him in his villa to make sure he's not writing himself to death.
Vlad
A sweet florist you met in town while you were miserable in the first week. He gave you a flower to cheer you up and was the epitome of charming, so charming in fact, that you accidentally revealed you lived in the mansion. Once you’ve revealed that fact, he began seeing you every time you were alone in town (for no ulterior motive at all)
General HCs for All!
Writes you letters daily/weekly; a habit picked up after the first night and seeing how spooked you were
Help you and Sebastian as much as they can; they can obviously clean up for themselves and even cook when they feel inclined
More residents have meals together than ever before; your presence sort of unites them and they’re super grateful for that
You’ve achieved the point where every resident is together during dinner
Birthdays, special occasions, and achievements are celebrated because you organize them for everyone
Since Halloween is your favourite holiday, the residents make an effort to dress up for it
Valentine’s Day is a bit of a mess, with you making a gift for every resident
White Day was used by the residents to give you their gifts, and it’s overwhelming, to say the least
They’re huge gossips, so any and every update on you is spread like wildfire to everyone. Good luck having an off-day
Dazai is the first to notice, being the most emotionally intelligent
Leonardo is the quickest one to take action, quite literally scooping you from whatever you’re doing to cheer you up
Napoleon is also another quick one to constantly check in on you and look for you if you come home too late
Sebastian usually keeps track of who you’re with or where you are if you guys are separated
Buys you random presents, usually connected to something between the two of you, but also sometimes follows current trends
Isaac buys you a hairclip he thinks looks darling on you
Dazai buys you a notebook to use as a diary, especially after noticing your journal’s almost full (and no he totally doesn’t peek in your writing)
Jean will always find something in town to bring to you in your night lessons
Comte… do I even need to say anything
Supports you in anything you pursue (I believe the canon says that you’re starting out as a writer, so I’mma use that)
You keep notes of your every day in your diary, sort of like a vlog and a lot of the snoopy residents read it. Eventually they suggest that you publish some of it
Being a huge fan of literature, the authors organize a writer’s night where you come up with a prompt and they share how they’d write it
If you ever end up writing something, they’re the first to hear and are your biggest fans
You’re a frequent guest teacher in Napoleon’s and Isaac’s école
You always thought you weren’t good with kids, but seeing how much the children like you reassured you
Napoleon teases you on how much you say you dislike children but secretly enjoys the time with them
Isaac is extremely grateful for how much you like organizing his lesson plans
if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i hope you have a wonderful day and leave a like/reblog <3
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violettduchess · 3 months
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A/N: Because he didn't have one yet 💜
WC: ~600
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He tastes like coffee and wonder, like fudge and fervor.
The minutes leading up to this moment, this embrace in the depth of night, began with you coming back through the mansion door just as the clock struck the midnight hour, one hand pushing back the rich hood of your cloak, revealing cheeks flushed from the cold and eyes bright as sunlight winking off a morning’s frost. Your smile was wide and warm and open as you stepped into the parlor, searching for him. Arthur took one look at you, threw down his hand of cards and with a light smile and breezy valediction, took your hand and took his leave, pulling you along with him, away from the knowing glances of the others.
Up the wide staircase you go, down the carpeted hallway with its arched windows letting in pale slants of moonlight. Your room is much too far away and his may as well be on the moon. 
He needs you now.
And so he pulls you into a shadowy alcove, pulls you against his lean body. You’re laughing softly, breathless, murmuring something about still wearing your cloak and boots and- 
“As if that matters, luv.” 
And then his lips are on yours and you realize, no, no it doesn’t matter at all. Although eager, his kiss begins soft, one hand sliding up, across the plane of your cheek, thumb stroking smooth skin. His lips leave yours to roam the line of your jaw, to prowl the sensitive place below your ear. You tilt your head back and allow him access to the slope of your neck, expecting him to sink his sharp fangs in immediately, unable to resist the feeling of lawless pleasure.
He does not.
Instead, kiss after kiss decorates your skin, as if you are a blank page and he is the writer, jotting formless words of desire and devotion, of tenderness and aching affection along your throat, your collarbone, your shoulder.
No one before you has ever mattered. You are the beginning of his greatest story.
His name is a sigh whispered into the shadows, your fingers catching his chin and lifting his head back up so you can kiss his mouth, the romance of the moment draped around you like silken cords. His hands slide under your cloak, untuck your blouse from your skirt and slide underneath, palms pressing against the bare skin of your back. Up they slide, along your spine, then back down the lines of your torso. You are softer than vellum, his fingertips curling and tracing a filigree along your waist. They feel feather-light, like ink trails across your skin.
“I need you,” he breathes against your lips, sincere and honest, his heart a fragile thing you hold in your hands. And you smile, clutching the nape of his neck. “I need you too.”
He lifts you into his arms, kissing you once more, this time harder, a kiss edged with the promise of what is to come. You curl against him, soft and boneless as his long legs carry you down the hall, towards your room. You close your eyes, nuzzling into his neck, dropping kisses like tiny sparks against his skin. 
His heart thunders in his chest at your touch and he knows, with every fiber of his being, that you love him, as he is. You, who pulled his gaze away from the regrets of his past and helped him close the chapters on the trauma that had haunted him for far too long. Your love cradles him and keeps him safe, a cover to his fragile pages and a promise for all that is still unwritten.
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Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @fang-and-feather @bubblexly @ozalysss @kiki-tties
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