Hello! I'm Crow, and I'm a writer on Tumblr dot com. This is a side blog for @commanderofcrows where I post either fanfictions or my OC works.
I write primarily for my OCs and sometimes HSR, but Iâm also into R:1999, Hand Jumper and Path to Nowhere (though I don't think I'm the best at writing for their characters).
I do post yandere stories that may have dark content, so please beware when interacting with my blog if there's anything that would make you uncomfortable. I do not support âyandereâ behavior irl. This is all fiction.
I write both romantic and platonic yanderes. If theyâre a platonic yan, I will specify in the summary. If thereâs no specification, assume itâs romantic.
I will not write graphic descriptions of violence. If there is any violence, it will be either alluded to or very brief.
Iâm okay with writing NSFW, but I do not write nonconsensual content. The consent may be dubious (since this is a yandere blog), but no flat out non-con.
I love answering asks or requests, but there is no guarantee if I can get to it in a timely manner.
Feel free to ask any questions or follow-ups to any of the previous characters I wrote!
Masterlist
Vampire Hunters Masterlist
My thoughts on Penacony Sunday
My thoughts on Aventurine pt 2
God of Sleep + Followers vs God-slayer reader
- More information
Hermit Darling x Yan who keeps them at home pt 2 pt 3 pt 4
Vampire Best Friend Roommate x Oblivious Reader
God of Death x God of Life pt 2
Yan!Dragon
- Extension: What if you're scared of dragons?
- Extension: Visiting your family
- Question: How do they view you?
Platonic Necromancer x Apprentice
- Backstory information
Hey everyone, quick update! Iâm going through a bit of writerâs block, which is why Iâm not posting that much.
I have a lot of WIPS to get done, so if you sent me an ask, it might be a while before I get around to it/get the inspiration on how I want to write it.
Thatâs all for now! Thank you all for reading what I write!
oh wowow!!! i must've missed the fun facts post (i dont think it's in the masterlist, if it is then i'm js blind ( ăïŒïŒ))
pls im on my knees for soft hayes crumbs.........
also, i rlly love ur sunday characterization !!! he's one of my fav hsr characters and the you write him deserves a chef's kiss <333
- /á - Ë -ă âł
Thank you so much! Sunday is such a complex character, so sometimes I worry I accidentally miss the mark when writing for him
The fun facts probably werenât in the masterlist because Iâm horrendous at remembering to add my new works to them, so thatâs probably why you couldnât find them (honestly, some of these hcs are sort of restating some of those facts)
Anyways, soft/cute Hayes headcanons coming right up!
â
Okay, so just to add clarification, Hayes is not a soft yandere at the start, but it rather progresses. The timeline is roughly like this
Stage one: Curious about reader and is cruel to them
Stage two: Starts to grow fond and is terrified about that
Stage three: Reluctantly accepts heâs in love and doesnât know what to do about it
Stage four: Attempts to be loving with his darling
For the sake of these headcanons, weâll say heâs at stage 3 or 4 for him to be acting like this
-
Hayes has decently long hair. He usually cares for it himself, but when he starts to trust you more, he really likes it if you decide to run your fingers through it, brush it or braid it. Itâs very soothing to him. He might even drift asleep.
Vice versa, he also likes to do your hair! You know how cats will groom each other when they love each other? Itâs kind of like that.
Hayes likes to talk. A lot. Not in group settings, but when heâs got you alone, he loves to yap. Youâre quite literally a captive audience.
If I may get a little angsty, he likes to talk so much because heâs never really been comfortable around other people, so when he has you, someone who isnât free to punish him for speaking too much, he dumps years worth of conversations on you.
After he starts to like you, he might let you wear his hat. It is sort of big though.
Hayes hums under his breath quite a lot. You never place the songs as something you heard before in the bars or the choirs. You later find out heâs humming a birdsong, not a humanâs song.
He usually isnât one to initiate affection, nor is he ever really expecting it, so it always catches him off guard if you decide to hug him or kiss him. It takes him a few moments to even really react.
When he does initiate proper affection, heâs very hesitant or unsure. If you look carefully, you might even see an embarrassed flush or a nervous tremble.
His kisses are more like long presses of his lips against you rather than any languid movement. Heâll come over and just put his lips on you and rest there for a moment. He especially likes to do this on your cheek or just below your jaw.
I say âproperâ affection because Hayes is a very curious man, so he has a habit of absently poking or prodding you. Heâll trace little patterns on your skin or run a finger across your lips as if heâs testing the softness. One of his favorite things to do is to pinch you or to lightly prick his fingers on your teeth.
Speaking of touching, Hayes normally wears gloves, but when heâs home with you, he keeps them off so he can properly feel you.
Hayes is surprisingly playful to the people he likes. It wouldnât be uncommon for him to spontaneously try to âplayâ fight with his darling. Heâll try not to hurt you genuinely, but you are absolutely getting tossed around for funsies.
Heâs got a habit of lightly nipping his darling. Again, he thinks itâs fun. He especially likes to leave marks. Itâs nice to see something that he made on someone he loves.
In a similar fashion, he likes if you wear anything of his. His shirts, his pants, his accessories, he doesnât care. Though he prefers if you ask first or if he puts it on you for you. Heâs very protective of his resources and doesnât appreciate thievery.
Hayesâs home is full of plants. Most of them are used in his concoctions, but he might grow a few that are simply for your own enjoyment.
Briefly implied in the drabble where all the hunters cuddle, but Hayes keeps treats to bribe Atticusâs dog.
Hayes has difficulty sleeping alone, so youâre almost certainly sleeping in the same bed as him. He isnât super cuddly, often preferring to only hold your hand, but he shifts in his sleep. Itâs very common for him to accidentally move to sleep on top of you.
He likes to read a lot, but what he likes even more is to listen to his darling read aloud. Or! He likes to read to them.
The library was dark, the only source of light being from the streetlights outside. it was basically empty if it wasnât for you two, sitting by the window. the edge of your face was illuminated by the small light from outsideâŠhe just couldnât stop staring.
âwhat did you get into ?â you wiped his gashed cheek, fresh blood staining the cloth
He shrugged it off, snorting. ânothing. just a bunch of cocky kids.â
you frowned. you knew it wasnât the whole story.
you pressed a gauze pad on the wound, securing it with extra bandages. he hissed slightly. he wasnât used to having someone take care of his woundsâŠhe usually does it himself, but you taking care of them for him doesnât feel all that weirdâŠ
you hand lingered on his cheek, pressing down slightly. you thumb hovered just near his lips. âhey. um, please stop getting into these crazy fights. the guy had a knife ! this couldâve been way worse.â you warned. â...sorry for touching your cheek. the guide said i had to place pressure there.â
He rolled his eyes, and you swore he pouted just a bit. so cute...
âOw,â something poked your thumb. you jerked it away. it began to bleed just a bit.
did he justâŠbite you !?
he grabbed your wrist, a firm grip, and pulled it back, placing it on his cheek again. he gave tiny kitten licks on the small wound, like a guilty dog making up for a mistake.
ââŠkeep your hand here. it hurts when you take it off,â he lied, his gaze drifting elsewhere.
Guys, I SWEAR that I'm working on all the other wips that I said I'm working on, but this would not leave my head.
Yandere!Superhero x Powerless Friend (and future manager)!Reader
This is kind of a teaser/introduction to something I will hopefully expand upon. Hope you like it!
Minor TW: Reader has some self-esteem/inferiority issues. Reader is forced into role of manager.
---
You'd been childhood friends since you could remember, but even then, you always knew James would have to leave you at one point. To make matters worse, everyone else knew he'd leave too.
Because James was something special. The saviour of the city, the public's sweetheart, and a bunch of other titles you resentfully refused to remember. You couldn't help but be a little jealous. He was the sun, while you were only able to make a pathetic attempt at reflecting his glow for yourself.
It was only a matter of time before he finally dropped the delusions of being able to have you while also being the city's hero. The powerful weren't meant to stoop to the powerless's level. You knew this, so you tried your best to remain properly distant.
Despite it all, James somehow stuck stubbornly by your side until the final year of high school. You, however, already started preparing for his departure. The moment he turned eighteen, the agency he worked for would sweep him away. He's had his boyish dreams. It would soon be time for him to grow and realize he had bigger things to handle than his weak, useless friend.
Yet he didn't realize it. He didn't realize it until the agency forced him to confront it, and he didn't take it well.
It was the middle of the night and a few days after his eighteenth birthday when he broke into your room, and by broke in, he literally broke your window to get in. The sound of glass shattering woke you up as the familiar, heavy footsteps of your best friend stomped over to your bed.
"They're making me leave!" He cried, completely uncaring that he woke you, or that he broke your window, or that it was the middle of the night and this was decidedly insane behavior.
"...Yeah, I know." Of course you knew. You knew it was coming for years. You were more surprised that he didn't know.
"You knew?!"
"Everyone did." And you were fine with that. You had your entire youth to make peace with it. He was strong, you were weak. He was going to leave for great things, you were going to stay and work some dead-end job for the rest of your life.
"Well, if you knew, you had time to prepare then." He said it with this...hopeful gleam in his eye. You didn't trust it for a second.
"I've been preparing." You affirmed warily.
"Good. Good." He took a few deep breaths and started moving about your room. "So where's your suitcase?"
"What?"
"Your suitcase." He said slower and more clearly as if his enunciation had been the reason for your misunderstanding, "Where is it? You should be packed and ready to go if you prepared."
"I don't...I don't understand."
"You said you're prepared. As in, prepared to come with me, obviously." It was as if you not coming, not playing the sidelined cheerleader, was not even a possibility to him.
"James, I can't come."
"Sure you can."
"I don't have powers, James!" You gritted in frustration. Maybe if you had powers, maybe if you were special like him, you would jump to be partnered up with him for the rest of your life. But you didn't have powers and you would forever be unequal. "I couldn't even be your sidekick-"
"A sidekick?! No, I'd never let you be a sidekick. That's way too dangerous for you!" He said it with a lack of condescension, as if it were fact. To be fair, it was fact that you were weak, but to hear it from him was a new kind of irritating. "But you could be like...I dunno. An assistant? A secretary?"
"I'm not-"
He cut you off, "Oh! You could be my manager!"
"I don't want to be your manager!" You snapped. You were sure that in James's eyes, this was a grand, sudden betrayal, but to you, this was a long time coming. You spent your entire life trapped by the brilliance of your friend. It didn't matter how great you were. He would always be greater. You loved James, you really did, but as long as he was near, you couldn't love yourself.
"...well, that's..." He paused and you were taken aback by the shift in his usually bubbly demeanour. You've never seen him look so...well, you couldn't even describe the sudden coldness he demonstrated, "That's too bad."
You opened your mouth to argue, to say something in protest against this complete and utter disregard for your input, but he quickly sealed a strong hand over your lips to keep you silent.
"There's really no arguing here, [Name]. I kind of need you. No, I really need you. I can't be a hero without you, so I have to take you with me."
"MMF!!!" Your shout was obviously silenced, but it was worth a try.
"Shh, let's not fight. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm doing what's best for both of us." He stroked his thumb against your cheek with unmistakable fondness, "So...you're gonna be my manager, yeah?"
You shook your head. You couldn't move your head much, but he could definitely feel your attempted movements.
"I'm so sorry, [Name], but I am going to take you by force if I have to. I'm sure the higher-ups won't mind if I tell them I need you. Plus, management says I'm allowed to take precious items with me."
...
So, you're his personal manager now. You stick by his side, you book his events, you tell him what to say and what to wear, you help him do everything that isn't superpowers-related and most importantly, you don't. leave.
Ur Rival Wizard x Sorcerer reader is sooooo good plssss drop pt2 đ„čđ„čđ„č
Thank you so much! Part 2 is on its way! What I hope to do is to post another oc (yan!singer is coming soon) before part 2 in order to have some time to think and properly plan out what I want to be featured in the next part
He was like a rabid dog without a leash. wild and untamed and always getting into some dilemma. its not really his fault though. he was always treated as this dangerous beast where you couldn't even look him in the eye without a hostile glare back. and all these annoying wannabe tough guys looking to see if the rumor of the 'mad dog" was true, just to end up with a broken cheek.
he was used to it at this point. a constant cycle of bark, bite, fight.
he stuck out in crowds, with not only his wide shoulders or his intimidating height, but with his reputation alone. his calloused knuckles and his bandaged face told stories of many fights and unhealed scars.
he knew that with a personality and looks like his, he would never experience something as stupid as love or friendship. that was for weak, sappy guys. and weak was the last word to describe him.
then...how can a weak and sappy thing feel so good ? it was just for a moment, but something bloomed inside his heart when he met you. it felt wrong. he wasn't supposed to feel that way.
it was raining, so all students had to stay inside for this break period. he couldn't even go out for a smoke break. and the closest place to his designated spot was the library, a place you worked at as an assistant.
the door flung open with a loud bang. everybody turned their heads in unison before cowering at the sight of his patch-faced scowl, sticking their noses back into whatever book they were reading.
you sat in the corner of the room, sorting out misplace books. you swear, people never give the time to put books where they belong. and sadly, you had a problem. the final book you needed to sort out this shelf was tucked on a shelf which you couldn't reach. who's bright idea was that !?
so here you were, standing on your toes like a idiot in trying to reach the final book. then, a tall, hooded man passed by you, and "tall" was just more than enough for you to call him over. "Um, excuse me," the man stopped walking, then he turned his head, and beneath the shadows casted by his hood, there was a deep frown.
"What ?" he snarled.
You hesitated for just a moment by his sudden, sharp reply. "You're pretty tall, so can you please pass me that book with the red cover ?" You pointed to a book on the highest shelf.
hah. it was comical. you're really asking a guy like him ? do you live under a rock ? he cracked a sarcastic smile at the though. even so, he grabbed the book for you without a reply.
"Ah, thank you." You said simply, nodding with a small smile.
his mind froze. the world seemed to stop for what felt like hours, but it was only a three second interaction. when you flashed him a smile a bunch of foreign and strange feelings clouded his heart. it felt like a pat on the head, but you just...thanked him..? why ? nobody was supposed to show affection for him, even if it was a simple thank you. you even smiled ! he just did a small, stupid favor for you...damnit. what the hell was that ?
and then you walked back to your seat, sorting out the final row of books.
he clutched at his heart which was beating way to fast. he looked at you with an intense glare that looked full of frustration, but his burning face said otherwise. now the library seemed more interesting.
note: second post...i didn't expect to get anything more that 20 likes on my first
I'm wondering about what the coven dynamics are, though, like you said previously about the lowkey hierarchy between the older and the younger siblings and the yandere/ codependent tendencies.
Idk if we'll ever be able to see Reader interacting with their siblings, be it before or after they ran away, but I would jump to the chance to read it if you did!
ALSO, the fact that you mentioned Francis getting abducted by the Sire too also seems like a very interesting situation too!
Overall, I really love this story, and the vibes are immaculate đ«¶
I do plan on writing a little, tiny blurb about how each âhierarchy tierâ thwarts the readerâs previous failed escape attempts! Iâm hoping itâll be a good exploration of the dynamics within the coven.
At a very basic glance, the hierarchy goes like this (most influence to least)
Father
The first daughter (Rosalyn)
Eldest siblings (75+ years of vampirism)
Middle siblings (15-75 years of vampirism)
Youngest siblings (0-15 years of vampirism)
Thralls (Human)
Guys...you know how sorcerers are born with their powers while wizards have to study for them?
Yan!Rival Wizard x Gn!Sorcerer Reader
Part 1: The introduction (You are here)
Part 2: Progression of Obsession (Planned, but not written yet)
Summary: William has spent his entire life training to be the best mage he could be. He's top of the most prestigious academy and there shouldn't be anything in his way. That is, until you came along. A sorcerer who doesn't even try, but still beats him at everything.
You make him sick.
Featuring: An extremely jealous mage, said mage crying over test scores, forced proximity and an unfortunate roommate situation for the both of you
Yan Warning: William isnât an extreme yandere at the moment. Most of the âyandere traitsâ come from his obsession with perfection. By being better than him, you accidentally manifest feelings of inferiority and jealousy in him. Other than that, heâs relatively tame (for now.)
Word Count: 2.6k
---
Day 1: The new arrival
Who the hell were you?
No, seriously. Who were you? William had never heard of you, but apparently, the academy went out of their way to get you in their ranks. They even made special exceptions to let you join in the middle of the year. Whenever he walked through the halls, people were talking about you. They weren't even acknowledging his most recent achievement.
You were the new hot topic, and it stirred something ugly in William, but he reasoned with himself. You were new and shiny, but it won't last long. Once people realize you were just an above average mage, the noise will die down.
Week 1: Test scores
It hadn't died down. The conversations that followed your name only grew in intensity.
"Did you hear? They got a perfect on practical applications!"
"What? No way. You have to have an insane mana reserve for that! Not even the instructors could do it perfectly! Hell, even William only got a ninety!"
"Shh! He's right there! Don't talk about it."
...
You know, he could deal with it if you were just better than him (he couldn't), but being beaten was just one part of this. It was the comparisons. It was the expectations. It was how everyone looked at him as if they were waiting for a response.
It was never just, "This new student is good."
It was always, "This new student is better."
It wasn't fair. You didn't even show up to class. He hadn't even seen you. He'd done everything right. It wasn't fair that some nobody came in and took everything from him. It's not-
"Hey, are you okay?" Someone's voice jostled him from his seething.
"I'm fine." He snapped with hopefully enough aggression to drive the unwanted intruder away from him.
"It's just- you've been standing in front of the test score sheet for thirty minutes." The person continued to pester. Normally, William could keep his cool for a decent amount of time, but he was in a terrible mood - the worst mood he's been in for a while.
"Yeah, so what? Am I not allowed to spend my breaks how I want?"
"...You're crying."
Shit. Was he really? He swiped at his eyes and erased the evidence of tears welling in his eyes.
"Who are you anyways?" He deflected with an amateurish attempt at hiding the slight tremble in his voice.
"I'm [Name]."
William felt everything stop. You? You were the infamous person haunting the academy's rumours? You looked so normal. You were just a regular student.
He shouldn't have expected any different, and he felt almost ashamed over how much he managed to mystify you in his mind in just a week. He thought you'd be ethereal, something almost inhuman in your perfection. That way, he could explain away your brilliance by saying you were just different from everyone else.
But you weren't different. You weren't some chosen one blessed by the deities. You were just like him.
That made it even worse. He had no excuse now. And to top it all off, your first introduction to him was him crying over second place. He had imagined that your first meeting would be different. Something more respectable.
He thought he could hear you ask him for his name, but he didn't exactly process your words. He turned on his heel and walked away before the interaction could drag on.
â
Week 2: Training partners
William didnât realize you were in his class. You never showed up. Not until now, in the second week of your academic career. Your disregard for the rigorous hell everyone else went through was justâŠwell, he had no word to describe it. It felt disrespectful, but he had no way of properly saying that without sounding like a petulant child. He just wished he could see you. If you were going to beat him, he should at least see how you had done it. He should get to see you suffer the same way he suffered for his spot.
If it were anyone else, heâd probably make a few snide remarks. Unfortunately, he hadnât yet recovered from the test scores incident and didnât have the nerve to face you again. Maybe he ought to start studying for a memory alteration spell so you could forget that dreadful first impression.
âEveryone, you have free time to spar and prepare for your next combat test. Pair up.â The instructor ordered. William turned to find his normal partnerâa smart girl who didnât exactly match him in skill, but gave good feedback on his techniqueâwhen the instructor interrupted, âWilliam, [Name] doesnât have a partner. You two pair up.â
It was odd. No one had ever been forced to partner up. The instructors assumed that the students were mature enough to deal with it on their own.
âBut what about my usual partner?â William argued before he could stop himself.
âOh, donât worry about me. Iâll find someone new.â The smart girl dismissed him before the instructor could. He shouldâve seen it coming. Everyone was just dying to see the two best mages go against each other. He cursed her in the back of his mind. He cursed the entire class.
William begrudgingly made his way to you. You just stood there, stretching and working your fingers.
âSo youâre William?â You said with a certain tone that told him you didnât believe that the boy you found crying over scores was the academic monster you undoubtedly heard of.
âI am.â He said coldly in his best effort to shut down conversation. Luckily, you took the hint and went back to your stretches.
He couldnât help the way his eyes traced you as you moved in an almost ritualistic pattern of warm up exercises. He lingered on the slightest bit of waist that you inadvertently revealed to him as you stretched your arms. He wondered what itâd be like to touch or squeeze or bite at your flesh as if that would reveal the secret to your brilliance. What would it be like? Would your skin be soft like everyone else's, or do you actually have some kind of inhuman vessel that he couldn't see on first glance?
William immediately looked away when he realized what he was doing. It wasnât that he was looking at you with lust! He was justâŠconsidering something.
âAre you almost done?â William gritted.
âYeah. Letâs go.â
Finally, he could stand to look at you once again. William took the opportunity to see what kind of magical instrument you used only to find that you simply didnât have one. No staff, no wand, not even rings. You planned to fight him without any catalyst.
âWhereâs your wand?â
âI donât need it.â
âYou donâtââ He choked. Heâs never heard of a wizard not using a catalyst. How do you plan on channeling mana?! You canât just use nothing!
Uncaring for his shock, you hit first. You flicked your hand and William watched with blatant horror as you produced a fireball with only your hands.
William had never felt so much envy as he did in that moment.
-
The two of you collapsed into the grass after what felt like hours of fighting. William felt so mentally drained. He had to dredge up spells he hadnât thought to use since his first year to defend against you. Hell, he was pretty sure that somewhere along the way, he had made up his own spells, which was, despite his current irritation, very cool.
He turned to tell you of his new creations (since you were the closest person around to brag to), but was hit with shock as he realized that you werenât just tired like him: You were passed out.
William pushed himself over to you. He hated you a lot, yes, but he didnât want you dead after the first fight youâve ever had. He pressed his wand just below your chin and muttered a very simple rejuvenation spell.
Your eyes fluttered open and for some reason, you merely groaned and rolled over as if this were an everyday occurrence.
âWhat happened? I didnât even hurt you that much. You have no reason to be acting this way.â He immediately began his lecture, angry that youâre acting so weird; angry that he worried.
ââs normal.â You slurred. âDo you have any sweets?â
âWhat?â
âDo you have something sweet?â You repeated. He hated how you slowed it down for him as if he were the dense one here.
He clicked his tongue, but he had the feeling you wouldnât shut up until he tended to your unreasonable need, so he got up and found where he discarded his bag on the training grounds. He rummaged through it and retrieved an old protein barâthe kind he ate when he was prepping for an assignment and only ate food for energy.
âDo you want me to unwrap it for you too?â He mocked.
âYes please.â You answered with great sincerity.
William huffed and peeled the wrapper off the protein bar (because it was wrong to offer something and not follow through) before handing it to you. You scarfed the thing down with surprising voracity. Afterwards, you looked a little more lively.
âPhewâŠthatâs better.â You sighed.
âNow, can you explain why you passed out?â
âJust mana overuse."
ââJust mana overuse?!â How do you pass out from mana overuse?! You shouldnât have the ability to draw so much that you incapacitate yourself!â William was losing it with you. Every little thing about this day has challenged the fundamentals of magic he learned.
âHuh? Isnât it just like drawing blood? Youâre born with it just in your body, but you can only take out so much at once.â You explained as if you were undoubtedly correct and that William was weird for not bleeding mana everywhere.
William stared at you for a long time as he twisted what you just said around in his head.
ââŠwhat do you mean youâre âborn with itâ.â He asked with deadly calmness, a sharp contrast to his explosive irritation not even ten seconds ago.
âYou knowâŠyou just kind of have magic in your veins that youâve got to take care of.â
William listened to your reply, stayed silent for an eerie amount of time, and then laughed. It was such a bitter laugh. No wizard was born with magic in their veins. They had to train their bodies for years before they could even cast a somewhat mediocre spell.
So that's what made you so special. It wasn't excessive study or the sacrifice of your childhood years. You were just born with something he could never hope to achieve.
You didnât even get the opportunity to ask what was so funny because once again, he fled before he could properly snap.
â-
Week 4: Seething
That boy was so weird.
Itâs a thought thatâs crossed your mind multiple times in the short while youâve been at the academy. You were promised that the students would be accepting, but William has been nothing but aggressive, stand-offish, and borderline depressed.
It normally wouldnât be much of a problem, but the school seemed intent on putting you two together. The instructors always paired you, spewing excuses like,
âHeâs top of the class! Heâll catch you up on what youâve missed!â
âWilliamâs the sweetest student here! Heâll be patient as you get comfortable here.â
William had been neither patient, nor kind. You, in turn, did your best to ease whatever problem he had, but you just couldnât figure out what was wrong with him.
-
William hated you. God, he hated you so much it made him want to cry. Sometimes, he did cry. Each bitter defeat made him swallow back burning shame, and worse yet, youâd say some shit like, âYou did really well!â while pointing out his name below yours.
As if second place was anything to be happy about. As if he could be proud knowing some nobody took something so precious from him.
William didnât know what he wanted to do anymore. He wanted to beat you. He wanted to win. He wanted you to look at him and tell him how great he was because he genuinely deserved it, not because you want to avoid whatever tantrum he threw.
He justâŠhe wanted you to realize he wasnât below you.
â-
Week 5: Roommates(???)
Williamâs room was his safe space, so why the fuck were you there?
âOh. Hey, William.â You greeted him like you had any right to.
âWhat are you doing here? Leave.â He snapped. William had long abandoned attempts to seem civil with you.
âItâs my room. I was reassigned. I was told by the headmistress herself.â
William couldnât believe it. Somehow, you have the magnificent ability to ruin things in extraordinary ways he couldâve never imagined.
âWhy? Thereâs so many open rooms! Why couldnât theyââ
âNo. The headmistress said the academy was at absolute capacity.â You corrected.
William knew that was a lie. Lots of people dropped out because of the extreme stress the academy put their students under. There were lots of rooms available.
The headmistressâs lie only meant one thing: People were trying to cultivate a relationship between you two. He didnât know how he couldnât have seen it coming. William was one of the best students the academyâs seen in recent years, and youâŠ
You were a force of nature. William hated to admit it, but you were the best mage he'd ever seen. Of course the higher-ups of the world would want a partnership between you two. They planned for an unbreakable bond that they could use well into both of your careers.
William didn't know what to do. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it was how beneficial your partnership would be. He considered throwing a fit to get you out of his space, but that wouldn't work.
"...Just stick to your side." He muttered defeatedly. William wished he could go hide in his own, private bedroom, but he couldn't. The dorm was just one room, so he was stuck with you invading his very personal, very precious space.
---
Week 8: Realizations
You were by far the worst roommate William had ever had.
Granted, he never had a roommate before you because he had lucked out and got his dorm to himself. Regardless, he knew for sure that you were the worst he'd ever have.
Firstly, you always complained about your head spinning, or feeling faint, or whatever mana-related bullshit that William never experienced because he never had that raw, untapped power to begin with. Then, he'd ask, "Did you eat after training?" and without fail, you hadn't.
So then he had to go throw you some food, which dipped into his personal stash of nutrient bars. In a way, he liked seeing you exhausted and dizzy, but the cost of his precious resources outweighed his satisfaction.
That brought him to his second point: You were taking so much of what was his. First you took his spot as best student, which was the worst thing you did to him, but to add insult to the injury, you started taking his private space. Now you took his food! Hell, he once saw you taking his blankets from his bed!
Third point: You were always intruding. Even when he managed to get space from you, you were always invading his thoughts.
"I wonder what [Name] would think of this."
"I bet [Name] could come up with a great solution."
"Ugh, [Name] could've done that spell in just a few seconds. Why can't [Name] be here?"
His peers were sick of hearing your name come out of his mouth. You were his new standard of greatness - as if his previous one wasn't bad enough.
Would you be willing to write more of the vampire best friend x reader Drabble? I thought it was super cute and would love to see another writing! Love your work! <333
Iâm totally willing to write more of them, but Iâm not too sure how to add on to it. If you have any suggestions/requests from them, let me know! (As always, itâll probably take me a while to get around to them though lol)
hi !!!! i just found your blog and read thru a few of your posts and wow i would love to pick at your brain ê đ Ë¶Ë á” Ë˶ 𩯠.á.á âĄ
in another life, wld hayes have been different? wld his relationships w the others change? maybe if he had grown up differently or there was another factor, another variable that influenced the person he became. is there a chance he'll grow and change later on in your plot, and what wld be the catalyst for that change?
well obviously hayes wouldn't be hayes if he had a different personality, that'd be a new character, but omg he's exactly the kind of character i'd write a billion fix it fics for because i am a firm believer in happily ever afters djkdhdksj
sorry did i ramble too much idek if i'm even making sense TuT
i love ur ocs, you can rlly tell how much thought that was put into them ^^ complex characters & relationships >>>
do you do anons? can i be /á - Ë -ă âł anon?
I can absolutely do anons! (though I donât think Iâve ever had one before, so you can be the first ever! Hooray!)
I mentioned it briefly in the âfun facts about the huntersâ post, but didnât go into much detail. Yes, Hayes and all the others would be different if things had just been a little different. If he were in another universe, heâd like to be an herbalist or working in an apothecary. Really, he just likes playing with concoctions, and they just happen to help people.
Hayes was born with sociopathic tendencies like lower (but not completely lacking) empathy, a fascination with pain, difficulty relating to others, etc. However, if Hayes had been raised right, he would still be able to be a good person.
Unfortunately, Hayes was not raised right. He grew up in a very abusive orphanage that fed into his darkest traits. He was nurtured by terrible people, so he learned to be terrible himself. His pre-existing personality only made him worse than other orphans.
But Hayes can change in this universe, and we actually already see it. He saved Atticus from what would be certain death if he hadnât intervened. He lets Francis stay in his room despite Hayes being the kind of person to hate others in his space.
Iâm not sure if I posted anything to reveal this yet, but Hayes does get much softer and loving with his darling later on. He was originally only interested in the fledgling because he was curious, so he was fine being sadistic towards them, but once he has an attachment to his darling, things change.
Hayes still might hurt them, but itâs more playful. He likes watching his darling startle or squirm, but he no longer wants genuine pain from them.
As corny or cringey as it sounds, love is the catalyst that leads to Hayes changing. When he has people he feels he can trust, it lessens the weight heâs been carrying for so long. He talks more about himself and he gets the opportunity to feel more âhumanâ or ânormalâ.
To summarize, Hayes could change for the better, but itâd be a slow process as he learns to trust and love others. Heâd still have darker traits, but he could be a good man despite them.
I too am a big lover of happy endings, so itâs highly probable that Hayes goes through character development.
Realizing now that I never clarified how Atticus survives the Sireâs attack (from the Sire's Introduction), so here it is!
Vampire Hunters Masterlist
Everyone cheer for Atticus not being dead and surprise bonding between Hayes and Atticus!
TW: Atticus kind of dying (mild descriptions of injury. Nothing detailed). Stupid medical explanations for why he's alive.
A/N: This work's more lore/oc heavy than x reader (you're only mentioned a few times in this sadly), and probably won't make sense without reading the beginning post and the sire's introduction.
â-
Atticus knew that he'd probably die while working, but he always imagined he would've died alone.
But you were there, and you were taken. He had failed. He lost another person he swore to protect, and now, he just had to lie there in a puddle of his own blood, spending his final few moments alive blaming himself.
As the world began to blur around him, Atticus was vaguely aware of two black boots approaching his prone form.
---
Hayes had a habit of stalking the missions you and Atticus went on together. Today should've been like all the others you went on: You and Atticus explore the forest, and Hayes following behind in the trees.
Hayes wouldn't admit it, but he was infinitely grateful that he chose to stay hidden up high that night. He didn't even really register what had happened. One moment, Atticus was investigating footprints. The next, he was bleeding on the ground. Hayes had barely even managed to glimpse the attacker.
When your sire took you, Hayes stayed frozen. He felt the shameful fear he had thought he buried long ago crawl its way back up his throat, mocking him for his inaction. How was he supposed to help you when that monster was right beside you? He hadn't even brought his hunting poisons.
So he stayed in the trees, waiting for the elder vampire to leave before he jumped down and rushed to Atticus.
"Hang in there, Atty." He murmured, pressing hard against his comrade's bleeding neck. "I won't let you die so shamefully."
...
Atticus blearily opened his eyes. He was still on the forest floor, but he was padded by a long black coat. He turned his head to the side, and was greeted by the sight of the boots he saw as he died. This time, he actually had the energy to look up at the person, and was met with the sight of Hayes.
"Am I in Hell?" He asked. Good God, his voice was horrible.
"Not yet." Hayes responded. Atticus could swear he saw a bit of a smile on Hayes's face. Hayes had stuck a needle into his arm, which Atticus initially thought was strange until he recognized the needle led to a thin tube. Then he followed that tube to his own arm.
Hayes was flowing his own blood to Atticus.
"You're very lucky I bring these with me." Hayes said as he noticed what Atticus was confusedly looking at.
"Where's [Name]?" Atticus asked. He had no time to worry about Hayes's medical tools when he wasn't assured of your safety.
"..."
Just then, Atticus was so acutely aware of the events that had happened up until now.
"Hayes, where's [Name]?"
"Their sire took them back." Hayes said coldly, almost uncaringly. At least, Atticus would've thought he was being uncaring if he weren't so fine tuned to the anxious habits Hayes tried so desperately to hide. Hayes was just as distraught as him.
"Then we go get them." Atticus tried to push himself up. His first attempt was thwarted by the sudden surge of pain he felt at the slightest movement. His second attempt was stopped by Hayes.
"Neither of us are equipped to raid a coven, Atty. Lie back down." He chided.
Atticus would not listen. "We have to go. Hayes, we need to-"
He was silenced by a soaked rag to his mouth. Even in his near delirious state from blood loss, Atticus could recognize the scent of a widely used chemical hunters used to put vamps to sleep. Hayes had it prepared. He had expected Atticus's foolish insistence on following you, and he had a plan to nip it in the bud.
"What you need is rest." Hayes hissed as Atticus began to drift.
---
It took Hayes days to drag Atticus's usually unconscious body back to the guild. It took weeks for Atticus to finally be back to his old health. It didn't help that he kept trying to escape the guild's medical ward to go find you.
I binged your vampire hunters series and definitely raised an eyebrow when I found out Atticus and Hayes are rivals
ârivalsâ mhm
is it platonic if youâre the only other person in the world Iâd feel guilty for killing except for the person Iâm in love with? đ€š
feel free to tell me if Iâm wrong, this is just the vibes Iâve gotten so far
Iâm so glad you noticed the oddity to the ârivalsâ dynamic! I was hoping someone would bring that up! (I definitely wrote a lot about this, but Iâve been WAITING for an opportunity to talk about how they see each other)
Is it platonic if Atticus wakes up with Hayes hands around his neck, yet is never truly harmed?
Is it platonic if Atticus somehow knows that Hayes struggles to sleep on his own?
Is it platonic when Hayes saves Atticus after the Sireâs attack despite it being in his best interest to let him die?
To put it shortly, itâs not platonic, but neither of them want to acknowledge that. With that being said, itâs a little different from the love they feel towards their darling.
With his darling, Hayes likes them because theyâre so contrasting that they interest him. A vampire, yet so human. Suffering such a cruel fate, yet being so kind. Itâs curiosity that heâs afflicted by, not love (at least initially). The fledgling darling is âsafeâ to him because he knows how to handle vamps. Heâs sure of his strength and control over them and even when he does fall in love, itâs easier.
In contrast, Atticus is NOT safe territory for Hayes.
Hayes has a sort of inferiority complex around Atticus because Atticus doesnât look at him the way others do. Thereâs definitely a wariness in his eyes, but Atticus doesnât hold the same fear for Hayes others do. Heâs soâŠstoic in the face of Hayesâs cruelty. Hayes was taught that if youâre cruel, then people wonât dare get close to you, so when people donât react to his sadism, it immediately catches his attention.
Hayes is equally hopeful and horrified with these kinds of people. He longs for people who will stick by his side, but heâs too fearful to let people he that he canât control near him.
Atticusâs clear strength and capabilities, while impressive to Hayes, only serve as another piece of evidence that heâs a potential threat. All of this culminates into a rather awful cocktail of emotions.
-
Atticus likes his darling because heâs dedicated to taking care of people in need, and the fledgling is obviously in need of help. In a way, itâs also his way of making up for everyone else he couldnât protect.
I already mentioned this in a few other posts, but Atticus originally thought Hayes was just misunderstood, so he tried to make friends with him.
Hayes then showed him a level of monstrosity that Atticus had only seen once before, and Atticus had to give up his hope for Hayes. Despite that, Atticus still feels somewhat responsible for Hayes. He sees Hayes almost as a rabid dog lashing out. He pities him, but he knows that Hayes is terribly dangerous to him and everyone else.
And he cares a lot about everyone else, so Hayes is a threat he needs to monitor. Atticus treats Hayes with a mix of pity (and let's be honest, a savior complex), while also being extremely defensive and paranoid because Hayes is a perceived threat to people Atticus loves.
This is why Atticus is so standoffish against Hayes whenever their darling is around, but is generally more tolerant when they're alone.
Bonus Information: Francis and Hayes are also heavily hinted at being romantically involved (if not the present, then the future), but this post is about Atticus and Hayes, so Francis will have to wait his turn.
Imagine being pre-astral express Sunday's darling and then being brought with him to the astral express afterwards.
(This is inspired by a Yan!Dazai fic I read a while back about being taken with him from the pm to the ada)
A/N: The Astral Express brings both you and Sunday onto the express. This is because they only vaguely know about your relationship with Sunday, not because they are ignoring what he did (though the idea of the astral express enabling each other is kind of terrifying too, that's for another day)
TW: Implied/referenced previous captivity. Most of what Sunday did to you is left to imagination. I wouldn't say reader has Stockholm Syndrome, but they do have somewhat of an attachment to Sunday. Potentially ooc?
---
Penacony Sunday was massively controlling, but also so stoic with his emotions. He kept you under lock and key, claiming that it was the best thing for you. Then he was arrested, and you could walk free once more. Just as you finally begin to spread your wings, they are clipped once more.
It was a little while since you were freed, but you were starting to get comfortable living alone again.
That was when the Astral Express crew showed up at your doorstep. They remembered you from the very few interactions you had with them during their conflict with Sunday. You supposed you must've left an impression on them, being a very close companion of the man behind the conflicts they've faced.
"We understand if you want to stay in Penacony, but after...everything, maybe the path of the Trailblaze can help you." One of them said. You didn't really have the time to remember their names. You were too busy trying to stay afloat with Sunday and his worsening anxieties.
Penacony held no good memories for you, so you were quick to take the offer and board the express. The further you were away from Sunday, and everything Sunday-related, the better.
"I'll go. I swear, you won't regret this." You vowed.
Now, you were impatiently waiting for when they leave the planet. You didn't want to rush them, but Aeons, you were antsy to get far away. It was like you expect Sunday to pop out of a corner each second you stayed on the planet, but that was just a childish worry, right?
Right?
You pushed you worries to the side. Stelle promised you'd leave in a few hours by now. She and her friends just had to tie up a few loose ends, and you could finally, finally leave.
You perked at the sound of footsteps. In the short time period you've known them, you managed to recognize some of the crew's footsteps - a habit you developed with Sunday. Based on the loud, confident stomps, it was Stelle and...
oh, that's funny. You could swear that those footsteps sounded so much like Sunday's, so light and careful, as if they were afraid to make too much noise.
But Sunday was in jail. It couldn't be him. It couldn't be him.
You told yourself this as you turn around to face the pair, and you would've laughed in disbelief if you hadn't felt such an overwhelming despair.
Sunday stood frozen. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were him. March said something, but it blurred into the background. All you could hear was the blood rushing past your ears and the desperate screaming of your mind to run.
"[Name]?" Sunday asked. You had never heard his voice sound like that - so hopeful, yet so fearful, as if he thought his mind was playing a cruel trick on him as he dreamed.
"Sunday?" You returned with equal fear, but none of his hope.
There were few times that Sunday was truly speechless. In a way, you didn't like this side of him. You had spent years building a defense against one devil, only for this one to take his place. You did not care that this version of him seemed nicer. You didn't trust it. You would have to spend more time learning how to navigate him.
It was like the hope of escape had vanished from your mind the moment you saw him again. It was no longer a matter of how you could be free. It was a matter of how you could stay sane.
"Uh...guys?" March's voice finally broke your intense concentration on each other. You risked taking your eyes off Sunday to look at the express.
"You seriously didn't ask them?" Dan Heng whispered to Stelle, but not quiet enough for you to not hear. Though, that might've been the fault of how you had trained yourself to hear a pin drop instead of Dan Heng's volume itself.
"I thought it'd be a good opportunity for them to, you know, make amends." She whispered back.
The silence that followed was terrible, and it was clear that both you and Sunday were too scared to say the wrong thing to say anything at all. Eventually, Welt put you both out of your misery.
"The express should be leaving soon. It's time for us to board."
So you board, and so does Sunday
---
You were there when the express discussed Sunday's forgiveness.
You were there when they came to their agreement.
You were there when they declared he was allowed to stay.
You should speak up, you thought to yourself. The express were forgiving, but they also understood that you were a personal victim of Sunday's. You were sure that if you told them, they would separate you.
But for some reason, you didn't say a thing. Maybe it was fear. Sunday was different, but he was still the man that caged you. Maybe it was his past manipulations in effect, and you were just too well trained to speak out.
Or maybe a part of you wanted to believe in forgiveness too. You had to stuck with him for so long. It wasn't an outlandish idea to believe that you had some form of sympathy for the man.
Regardless of the reason for your foolish decision, your inaction remained the same. Sunday was officially forgiven by the express.
"Soo...where do we put the two of them?" March asked after the initial conversation had faded.
"I can stay with [Name]." Sunday suggested almost immediately. He seemed almost taken aback by his own urgency. He attempted to cover it by following up with, "I...If that's what they want."
Sunday must've been playing with you. He was asking you? And he was so plainly unsure. The Sunday you knew would never let a weakness show. Were you dreaming? Had he succeeded in his goal of trapping Penacony within their slumber, and this was just the merciful deram he gave to you?
"I'm not sure that keeping you two together is-" Welt began.
You interrupted, "I don't mind."
You really should mind, but having Sunday around was messing with you. Every part of you was trained to perceive Sunday as a threat, yet you also developed a companionship with him that you couldn't dismiss, and now, he was so...different. You didn't know how to react other than to go along with him.
The express shared looks with each other, but ultimately decided to trust your judgment. All except for one,
"You really don't mind?" Sunday asked. Once again, his genuine question startled and concerned you.
"I don't." You said curtly.
...
That was how you ended up willingly returning to the cage that was Sunday. Except...that cage's door was kept open.
You threw yourself into the bed, falling into the old routine. Sunday hesitated. First, he stood still at the door. He stared at it for so long before walking away. He left it unlocked.
It clearly irked him. His Halovian wings fluffed and flapped in discontent, yet he clenched his jaw and laid down beside you.
Now would be the part that he stayed strictly to his side of the bed. Sunday was odd about touch, always longing for it, yet cringing away when he tried to take it. Instead of that, he experimentally put an arm around your waist.
He was awkward and as stiff as a board. It was ultimately a pathetic attempt at "snuggling", but it was still an attempt. You let him try.
Long after he should be asleep, he spoke, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." Sunday pushed himself to look you in the eyes, and you saw tears - actual tears - welling in his eyes, "I've done so much to you, but you still forgive me-"
"I don't forgive you, Sunday."
"...ah." For a moment, you heard a remnant of his past self, cold and distant. It was a defense against the heartbreak you undoubtedly with those few words.
"But I don't hate you."
"You don't?" And just like that, the old Sunday was buried beneath a wave of hope.
"I don't."
Sunday stared and stared. Those usually guarded eyes displayed so much blatant emotion before he laughed. It was such a beautiful laugh, light and airy and so, so relieved. You couldn't recall a time you had heard him laugh like that until now. "Oh [Name]...you're so perfect. I'll be better. I promise I'll be better. You won't ever know pain, mental or physical, again at my hands."
In the dim light, the tears that had built in his eyes finally fell, yet he didn't wipe them. Sunday focused on leaned forward, and sealing his promise with a soft kiss. You felt him laughing against your lips; his joy so overwhelming that he had no way of containing it.
"I love you, [Name]." He whispered when he finally pulled back. "Things won't ever be the same."
For better or for worse, Sunday stuck by his promise.
----
A/N: Might make a second part from Sunday's POV, or a more headcanon focused post where I can further explore the differences between Penacony Sunday and Express Sunday.
Hey! I saw your posts about the god of sleep and I have a few questions in mind.Is he some kind of deity who can invade dreams? If so, is that the method he would use to find his Darling?Does he also have other types of powers like sleepwalking? Maybe that's how he brings his enemies to the temple, since he's benevolent and I can't imagine him doing that to an ally lol.Sorry for asking so long, it's just that I really liked him lol, by the way, does he have a name or appearance?
Iâm really glad you like them!
(Iâll start with name and appearance first since thatâs what I was most excited about)
When I first created them, I didnât really have a name for them, but I think Halcyon is a fitting name.
All of my god ocs donât really have a gender, so theyâre pretty androgynous. They have a very soft appearance with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. Compared to other gods (like the god of death), they look more human. The stronger a god is, the more inhuman they look. Because Halcyon is weaker/a lesser god, they arenât as scary looking as some as their kin.
Halcyon has very long hair because they never bother to cut it. They normally donât have it styled (again, they donât bother with it), but some of their disciples will put it in a loose braid. They have white-ish hair because theyâre themed after the moon.
Theyâre a little pale because they spend most of their time indoors. They have a somewhat grey-ish undertone to their skin, which is a hint at their divinity because of how different they look compared to other humans. Theyâre also bigger than most humans (approximately seven feet).
They have star-themed freckles, and primarily dress in long, comfortable robes.
â
Okay, now that appearance is out of the way, we can get to the big questions.
Yes, they can invade dreams, and even control them. I briefly mentioned this is my oc ranking post.
Invading dreams could be how they comes across their darling (in a non godslayer au, reader is probably an insomniac and they are determined to fix that), but if weâre sticking to the original post with a god slayer darling, itâs actually you who made the unfortunate decision to seek them out.
However, once theyâre attached, Halcyon frequently abuses their ability to observe and control your dreams. They like to give you sweet dreams, putting you in lovely scenarios. Sometimes, theyâre fine with watching from afar. Other times, they make themselves known to you and actively spends time with you.
That being said, dreams canât ensure your return if you ever leave them, so they employ two tactics to get you back: send a disciple to go get you, or haunt you with nightmares until you come back.
The first option is what they use the most, but their envoysâŠarenât very good at their job. Many a times, youâve opened your door to find one of them curled up on your doorstep. They fell asleep before they can even talk to you, so they definitely canât drag you back (especially if youâre a slayer of gods. Even if they were fully awake, they canât beat a god killer.)
The second option is when the God gets desperate. Only then do they start becoming troublesome in your dreams. It starts as incessant watching, then pleading for your return. If you still refuse, thatâs when they start using their dream ability for more nefarious purposes.
--
They do have powers like sleepwalking and whatnot. They control all things related to sleep, so they can cause things like sleep paralysis, night terrors, sleeping walking, etc.
They'll use their ability to make people sleep walk to help their followers stretch their legs while still being peacefully asleep.
But they don't bother using that ability to bring their enemies to them.
; pre-release snezhnaya bite-sized light yan drabbles, yandere but some of them are implied at best, we know nearly nothing of them rn so OOC is bound to happen, not proofread,
LOVE IS OBSESSIVE. (ANASTASYA )
A thin layer of frost has formed over closed, glass-pane windows, obscuring the otherwise perfect view youâd have of Snezhnograd down below. Now all you see are blurry blobs of color that vaguely resemble buildings if you squint. Residing at the highest floor in the Zapolyarny palace, nothing here serves as entertainment, not even sightseeing.Â
Itâs cold too. Unbearably cold. An unsettling chill that comes and goes, peaks and subsides when she personally visits you. Unfortunate that she invades your room often, gently closing the door behind her all to ensure that no one else, not even a passing guard, will be privy to her intimate conversations with you. Poised upright like the embodiment of elegance that she is, Anastasya sits down at the foot of your bed and gives you a small smile â a considered rarity among her subjects.
How are you today? Have you been faring well in her absence? Did you miss her? Basic conversational questions are asked, and after you answer (no matter how lacking they may come off, sheâs satisfied just to see you in the flesh), she starts sharing anecdotes about herself. Today, the Fatui did this, her harbingers had a minor disagreement, Pierro advised her to act on a particular issue, and the Belyi Tsarâs grave has been tended to by yours truly.
You nod accordingly â that all seems interesting, Anastasya â a built-in response picked up after years of such routine. When the topics of conversation dry up like a well, she will unglove her ice-cold hand to feel your exposed skin. You become used to the chill that you no longer flinch; itâs hard to be bothered anymore.Â
She savors her moments with you and immortalizes such transient minutes through the very ice she controls. To preserve and cherish every moment with you is one of the simplest pleasures in her life. The moment sheâs needed to step back into her role of being Snezhnayaâs ruler, she leaves whisps of snowflakes that gently caress your cheek; her own form of a goodbye kiss.Â
Youâre not her spouse, nor is she your wife. But she promises day and night for the past 500 agonizing years that the moment she seizes authority from the heavenly principles, you two will finally be wed and shall be marked as the first monumental event in the new world.Â
That child, too, will come back. And youâll all be a happy family.Â
Until then, you are encased in a room only she has access to in the name of love.Â
LOVE IS CONJUGAL. (VALERIY)
âMajor Valeriy will be displeased to learn you lost your wedding ring. Fret not, I will find it for you, my grace.â
His Oprichnik subordinate quickly gets on his hands and knees to begin a fruitless search while you watch him scramble around from the sofa. Leisurely leaning back with a cold drink in your hand, you know itâs not nice to torment a faultless person, but all your anger must be vented somewhere even at the cost of an unfortunate Oprichnik. Youâve grown to be selfish in that sense - itâs an undesirable trait nursed by your husbandâs weirdly coddling attitude. His fault. Entirely his fault.
You intended to watch this stranger run around like a headless Volkodlak fae for a little while longer, just enough to bring him to tears behind that mask when heavy, thudding footsteps enter the room. The Oprichnik quickly stands at attention, bowing a perfect ninety degrees to whom you need not guess. Your husband, Valeriy, is here. Rolling your eyes over to his, you note that his obsidian hair is powdered in snow with his cape nowhere to be found, nose is a bit red too. You hold in a grin â an avalanche most likely caught him. Serves him right.Â
It falls just as quickly when a familiar ring glints from the chandelier. A bemused glint appears in his eyes at your bewildered stare.Â
âHow did youâ?â You threw that wedding ring out of the window. You know it, saw it become lost in the snow. Yet heâ
âI did a little digging.â He strides up to you before kneeling down. He extends out an expecting hand to which you reluctantly give. Gently and reverently, he slides the ring back on your wedding finger, smiling in content when he does so. âBe careful next time.â
LOVE IS COURTSHIP. (ALYOSHA)
You have a peculiar companion who walks you home at night. You donât know him, his face, or his name, but you know his voice and shadow. He always follows just a couple of steps behind you with his footsteps lagging a second behind before hiding behind barrels and buildings when you turn around. Youâd think youâre hallucinating had it not been for the proof standing outside your home.Â
Swallowed by shadows, you see only his vague silhouette. A fur-lined hood with horns protruding, you think, average height â the only visuals he presents to you. On brave occasions, youâd call out with a stutter,
âW-why are you following me?â
His answer and the voice you hear are both hauntings dredged up from your nightmares: âBecause I love you.â
Morning comes and the result is the same. You open your door, ready to head off to work before being stopped by a carcass left at your doormat. It stains the textile with blood â youâll have to buy a new one after you finish your shift. With a shudder, you drag the dead animal inside, cringing at the trail it leaves behind.Â
At work, you ask your boss about it, fed up with the horrors youâre forced to live through. To which she tilts her head and smiles, âThat means heâs courting you. I know youâre from overseas, but thatâs how it is here in Snezhnaya!â
âI⊠What?âÂ
She laughs, âItâs the land of love. Who isnât willing to do everything for love around here?â
You better get used to it.
LOVE IS INFATUATION. (VODYANITSA)
âSeriously, another ticket to her show? Youâre not rigging the system, are you?â Your Co-patroller jabs an accusing finger at your golden ticket. Lord Harbinger Pantalone would have your heads for slacking off on the job by talking about Primadonna singer Vodyanitsa, but your excitement cannot be contained for a moment longer. Heâs not around to personally survey the Fatui agents in the area, fortunately. Youâre free to parade your golden ticket around â proudly so.
âI didnât buy it!â You hug the ticket close to your chest, daydreaming about seeing your beloved singer on stage once more, âMy pen pal did!â
âPen pal? You mean, what was it againâ Sirensong?âÂ
You smile, âYeah. Sheâs also a big fan of Miss Vodyanitsa. I told her she didnât need to buy me tickets every time, but she insistsââ
â--and youâre too much of a freeloader to actually stop her.â Your co-patroller gravely nods, looking away from you, âGot it. I already know what type of person you actually are, weâre both Fatui runts at the end of the day.â
âStop being mean to me, youâre just jealous.â You wave the ticket around their masked face. âDoes it keep you up at night? Knowing you only saw her in-person once? Donât worry friend, Iâll enjoy in your stead.â
âWhatever, whatever,â They roll their eyes before snapping back to yours, âWait. Donât you find it weird?â
âWeird?â You parrot.
âYeah. How come she doesnât attend the shows herself? Your pen pal, I mean.âÂ
âShe said sheâs limited to her home. Itâs why weâre pen palsâŠ?â
They donât look convinced. On the contrary, theyâre growing more suspicious.
âReally now? But tickets are sold onsite in the opera house days prior to the show.â
âShe probably has servants. I wouldnât be surprised â sheâs able to afford the tickets!â
â...Can I see your ticket?â
You frown, âYouâre not going to steal it and run off, are you?â
You receive a playful whack on the head as rebuttal, âStop talking nonsense, I still need to earn money for my sister! I just need to see the code and seat number.â
âOkayâŠ?â
Their face changes in real time once they get hold of your ticket. Observing, confused, and finally⊠Understanding?
âWhat did you see?â
âA VIP ticket. I get it now.â
They pick up their gun and resume patrol, leaving you in the dark.Â
âWhat? What do you get?â
âOnly the harbingers get VIP tickets, you know.â
â...Are you implying Iâm a harbinger? Iâm not.â
They shake their head, sighing.
âNo, Iâm implying that the only way you can get those tickets is if the giver was one of the opera organizers orâŠÂ
Miss Vodyanitsa herself.â
LOVE IS ENVY. (ODETTE)
âYouâre late.â
Itâs a pain to work with Odette. Talented and skilled she may be in the art of ballet, her punctuality remains as something she must work on. She always arrives late to rehearsals, sometimes completely missing them, only to perform just fine on the grand day itself. You didnât know what went on in her life to always miss the appointed time, nor did you bother to care. She was wasting yours.Â
But after catching her cleaning up a dead body one night after rehearsals, face splotched with a knowing red and dagger situated inches away from her on the ground, you now know everything there is to her. Agreeing to a truce, you negotiated for rehearsals to be limited to the two main stars while the rest of the cast practiced at a different time.Â
Only so she can do her business in peace thus avoiding her tendency to be late. It worked for a while, but as of right now⊠looking her up and down, maybe she just has a serious problem with time awareness.Â
âI said⊠Youâre late. Did you not hear me, Odette?â
She nods a beat after, âIâm sorry.â
You turn away to start packing your bag, âWhat am I supposed to do with that? I donât want your apology, what I want is for you to stop wasting my time. I get youâre busy with your⊠side assassin work, but keep me in mind, too.â
âI do.â She hurried to assure, âI keep you in mind every day.â
âOdd. It doesnât feel that way.â
The ballet studio feels especially colder today.Â
Youâre nearing the exit when she finally unveils like the ribbons of your ballet shoes.Â
âI got jealous.â
Her admission freezes you in place. âWhat?â
âSo I⊠took care of him. Iâll control myself better next time. Keep rehearsing with me.â
LOVE IS AN ADDICTION. (NOY)
You know your place and your cue.Â
A knock on your wooden door means itâs a house servant because Lord Noy himself enters without permission. With that knock comes a set of responsibilities expected from you. Once means that you must pick out the ribbon the lord will wear in his hair for the day. Twice means you must sleep in his bed that night.Â
And thrice means⊠the lord needs another supply of your blood. Merely three days after his last feeding session, and already heâs asking for more. You grit your teeth before ultimately abandoning your journal to open the door, your smile is inauthentic, so too is the house servantâs.
âPlease inform Lord Noy that Iâll be there after showering. Thank you.â
The house servant shakes her head, âIâm afraid he needs you now.â
â...As of this moment?â
âI believe so.â She bows before stepping back, âPlease follow me. Heâs in his study.â
Is he gravely injured that he needs your blood so soon to replenish himself? The usual time interval between feeding sessions on average is one week. Sometimes five days if heâs overworked⊠but three days is a first. You donât know if you should feel worried for him. Or is his old age finally catching up?
Perhaps the answer is far simpler.Â
Upon reaching the doors of his study, they immediately open and the house servant makes herself scarce. Lord Noy, dressed down in the comforts of his home, politely smiles at you, yet the lack of an⊠alarming injury on his person makes a question mark apparent on top of your head. You envisioned him to be bedridden in pain or maybe lethargic in his movements. The Lord Noy standing in front of you right now is anything but that. Heâs perfectly fine. Visibly joyed at the sight of his sole bloodbag, actually.
You donât want to overstep your place, so you keep your inquiries to yourself as you begin unbuttoning your high collar, fully exposing your still sore neck to his blood red eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath a second later, and you watch him advance toward you as if in a trance.Â
Indeed, the answer is far simpler.Â
Watching him feast and groan at the taste of your blood, you understand that heâs growing greedy. Both with your blood and body, and most especially your heart.Â
LOVE IS THERE AT FIRST SIGHT. (MITYA)
The books youâve been planning to borrow from the royal library were all borrowed by someone else first. It wouldnât upset you at all if it were going to be returned next week, but itâs been three months now and the librarian is growing tired of your constant pestering. To throw you a bone, she gave you the address of the person who has your planned books and told you to: âPay him a visit if youâre so desperate!â
Not the most moral thing to do, but youâre now standing outside the house (hut?) from the address given to you, seconds away from knocking on the door. Heâs read all those books surely, so heâll give it to you, right?
You knock. âHello? Anyone there?â
A muffled, âUhh, busy!â answers you.
Busy, huh? âThatâs okay! Iâm just here to retrieve the books you borrowed from the royal library. An approximate quantity of twelve books, if I may recall correctly.â
A faint gasp. âAlready!?â What does he mean by already? Itâs been three months. âHold on! Extend it a bit, please!â
âAbsolutely not.â You snap, âI need to read âIâm reborn as an evil scientist so hereâs a guide to quantum physics.â and âwhy itâs not crazy to say teyvat is upside down: a dissertation.â now. You had your chance to read it!â
He shuts up for one second before bursting out laughing, âItâs good that I can just⊠not hand it over to you then! How did you find my address in the first place?â
You turn rabid. Gentle, polite knocks are now fists angrily banging on wood. âThe librarian gave it to me! Open the door or else Iâm invading your house!â
âGo for it! You can try!â
âBy the Tsaritsaâs benevolence, I will!â
Ten minutes later, the thick wooden door collapses from your anger, and you see the source of your ire for the past three months in the middle of the room, surrounded by countless stacks of books, looking at you in complete shock. Ugh, What a greedy hoarder! Heâs probably a poser!
âGive me the books!â
He mumbles something indecipherable.
âWhat?â
You wish you hadnât asked him that.
 âI said... I think Iâm in love with you.â
LOVE IS PASSIONATE. (DANICA)
The bed is made, dinner is cooked, the rooms are cleaned, your nightwear is laid out on your bed, the curtains are drawn, and the small garden outside is already watered â all to the courtesy of Danica, of course. Her dedication to take care of every aspect of your life is commendable, but you donât see the point in chastising her.Â
Itâs because of her dedication that you can get away with being an utter brat.Â
âMy liege, Iâm back.â
You come rounding the corner eagerly greeting her, âDid you do it? Did you poison my father, Danica?â
She smiles at your demeanor, her uncaring and formal exterior always nowhere to be found in the face of her master. âYes, the deed is done. He collapsed thirty minutes ago.â
You hug her in thanks, âAnd the body? Did you search the body?â
Her arms hold you in a tight grip, unwilling to let go. Melting into your embrace, you feel her lips move around the nape of your neck, âI have.â
Danica knows you like the back of her hand and her loyalty is unfaltering. The ugliness of your soul can never chase her away, for she loves you dearly and undoubtedly.Â
âWhat did you find?â
She shakes her head in disappointment. âNothing.âÂ
You pull away, ignoring the pleading eyes she sends you. âHow unfortunate⊠Then it seems we have to look for the key elsewhere. You cleaned up the evidence, right? Oh, and prepare some tea for me, please.â
âMy liegeâŠâ
Patting her head and watching her lean into it, you tut, âDanica, Iâm not mad at you. Iâm mad at that dead bastard. The Tsaritsaâs plan needed his research, and he chose to keep it from us. Could you believe him? Serves him right.â
âSo please donât worry, my dearest maid. You have never disappointed me, and you wonât be doing so anytime soon.â
LOVE IS A CRUSH. (VESNA)
âYou!â
You hold in your sigh, and instead brace yourself for the telltale sound of fae wings fluttering in your direction. Itâs the third time this week, and the nth time this year that youâre stopped and humiliated in the middle of Snezhnograd, all at the amusement of a certain fae officer. A high-ranking one too, unfortunately.Â
The sound of her heels dropping down to the ground makes you look at her. You say nothing, she seems pleased by this.Â
âGood, you knew you were the offender right away.â
She swivels and takes flight once more, âWhat are you standing around there for? Come with me! You need to fill out your violation form in the office.â
That makes you sputter, âBut I donât even know what I did wrong? You just stopped me andââ
âYou think just because you possess a stellar linchpin means youâre free to run your mouth? Might I remind you that I impose the will of the Tsaritsa on you humans?â Vesnaâs always been cuckoo to you, but this isâŠÂ
You bite your tongue, watching the other faes squirm around in discomfort.Â
âNevermind. Iâll follow you.â
Like a switch flipped, she proudly nodded in approval. âVery well. Off we go now.â
From behind, you hear the fae officers whisper to one another that: âSheâs incapable of wooing her crush. Letâs leave her be; she can always make them give their name to her.â
...What a horrible week.
LOVE IS UNCONDITIONAL. (PANTALONE)
Centuries ago, the name Feofan was inconsequential to the citizens of Snezhnaya, for the bearer of that name was nothing more than a struggling young man living paycheck to paycheck as a bank clerk. He meant nothing to the grand picture of the nation, but at that time, Feofan was your closest friend.
As the bank clerk slotted after his shift, you formed a friendship with him that way. During the brief window of time as his shift ended and yours was about to begin, conversations were made, and hangouts were formed. Good friends save up their salaries to go see an anticipated Opera that day. Good friends didnât care that their friend wasnât the epitome of wealth.Â
When Feofan asked you if you wanted more in life; wanted more from him, you shook your head no. What else is there to want? You had good friends and a decent job. But his expression was unreadable when he asked a following question if youâd like to have more wealth.Â
âŠItâd be nice, definitely. But Iâm fine with my life right now, maybe in the future Iâll want more, just not now.
Believing that itâs the only way to repay you for loving a worthless man like him, he took that as the signal to pursue his years-long obsession with money. After quitting his job, he disappeared from your life for a few years, and he began pursuing a business. You thought he had moved to a neighboring nation at some point until he showed up on your doorstep one day.Â
Your bank clerk friend, now turned Fatui Harbinger, insisted then and there that you drank the vial he held in his hands. You trust him, yetâŠ
âWhy?â
âI want us to live forever.â
To love a worthless man⊠surely you would love him more now that he had something to his name.
