What the ever lovin frick is this shitty drop down, stuck on top of my scrolling video ADs you got goin on mobile, Tumblr? They might as well be a pornknow AD. Thats how shitty it is. Yes the misspelling is on purpose.
'Tis a silly ficlet that's being rattling around in my head ever since that PV came out...and I'm a sucker for 'taking care of the sick'. 1500 words of Faust self-indulgence. Thank you to @mikotomizuki and @ambrosiallkiss for letting me scream about this!
She woke slowly. Swimming up through thick sleep that clung to her limbs and consciousness enviously, as if loathe to surrender her. Eyes too heavy to open still as she took stock - of the odd weight of her body, of what she could only imagine was the warmth of sunlight basking one half of her face, of the dry rhythmic scratch of nib on paper somewhere nearby.
Faust.
She knew without even needing to see for herself, recognized that omnipresent sound. Only he ever wrote thus, in a frantic scathing scribble, as if his thoughts were always tumbling faster than his hand. As if he were always racing time, trying to outpace something.
Ironic, given how much of it he had, she supposed.
Her own thoughts were sluggish, too-warm and chasing themselves in nonsensical circles, like withered leaves in the last heated gasps of an autumn wind. Her mouth dry with that patina so particular to a long convalescence.
She managed to crack her eyes open just as the writing stopped. Greeted by arched ceilings, stonework and heavy wooden paneling, walls lined with shelves that groaned beneath the weight of countless books. The faint astringent waft of chemicals framing a sharp counterpoint to the softness of the featherbed she reclined on. She needed no more than a passing glance to realize she was in Faust’s room...but why?
The ensuing silence was only broken by the slight tick of Faust’s glasses on the desk as she watched him set them aside, one hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose and over his eyes before raking through his hair, mussing the midnight strands with a sigh. His usual jacket had been cast off somewhere, leaving him in naught but rolled up shirtsleeves, looking altogether far more rumpled than she had ever seen. His broad shoulders bent as if beneath some burden, and in her daze she wondered what sort of weight could ever possibly bow his Atlas frame.
Her lips were parched as she sought her voice, finding only the barest ghost of it. “Faust?”
He jerked, snapping to attention, blinking owlishly in her direction for a moment before snatching up his glasses. They settled back on his face at the same moment his customary smile settled on his lips. Sardonically charming, effortlessly wicked.
She’d often thought the Serpent must have smiled at Eve much like that, from amongst the verdant fig leaves. More the fool she was then she knew, for recognizing it as such and still letting herself be seduced.
"Still among the living, then?" It was delivered in his usual droll style, the hint of a laugh always threatening to break through it seemed, as if ever ready to have a joke at her expense...but there was something taut about the inscrutable gaze he leveled at her. A wariness, almost. That of a breath long held, not yet released.
She sighed her indignance as best she could, offering him a kitten-weak glare even as an answering smile tried to tug at her lips. "Feel too terrible to be dead."
He hummed his assent, the sound rippling into a chuckle as he scooted his chair closer beside the bed, reaching for a pitcher and glass upon the nearby table and pouring a small measure out. Swift deft movements helped her to sit up against the pile of pillows and held the cup to her lips, letting her have her fill of water.
“What happened?” she managed, when her tongue no longer felt bone-dry and cleaved to the roof of her mouth.
“You fainted dead away in the midst of the soup course, four days ago. I was unaware that you found broccoli so repugnant.”
“Hah,” she huffed, and he seemed to relent.
“It would appear you came down with an illness of some sort. You’ve had a fever, some delirium, these past three nights. Influenza, or scarlet fever perhaps, though I see no sign of you presenting with a rash…” He trailed off, speculation creasing his brows as he lay a hand on her forehead, gauging her temperature. "The fever only broke this morning."
She sifted through the shards of memories his words unearthed, trying to puzzle them back into something whole. Snatches of long hot spells, of strange dreams and visions and feeling utterly wrung-out. A voice speaking often, low and sonorous, syllables broad with the brunt of German. And amidst all that, blissfully cool touches much like the fingers still settled on her brow.
She didn’t even realize she had been nuzzling into the reprieve of them until she felt them lingering on her cheek, their slight chill a welcome comfort - pausing just a heartbeat past propriety before withdrawing, pulled back so that his fingers could twitch into a tight knot on his lap.
“You've been here the entire time?” She framed it as a question, but they both knew it wasn't.
It was an attempt to avoid, perhaps, that had him turn towards the notes on his desk and shuffle them. “Was I to pass up an opportunity to observe the course of an illness up close? To see how a modern constitution fares against diseases of the past? A vampire’s physiology requires little in the way of rest.”
A wry smile did manage to find its way onto her lips them. “You could have just said yes.”
Faust sniffed. “It was either that or leave you to that jackleg Charles, and that was not going to happen. You needed proper medicating. I administered antipyretics first, though they seem only to have taken the edge off your fever. Phenazone, then phenacetin -"
He had taken on an all too-familiar tone, and she attempted to head him off before he got lost in his suppositions. "Faust."
"Although again with little effect. I thought perhaps simply an analgesic would at least allow you rest but opioids are for hacks. Not to mention that a soporific was the last thing you needed, given our attempts at getting you to -"
"Faust."
He rolled on over the top of her interruptions, almost rambling...but this was no mere animated lecture. It was the first time she'd ever seen him anything other than poised, and her attention came to rest once more on the dark circles carved beneath his eyes, those self-imposed bruises poorly masked by the disheveled tangle of his hair. "-regain sense enough to drink. Dehydration was certainly a concern, and your -"
She reached a hand out from beneath the covers and set it carefully on his knee. "Johann."
The muscles of his leg beneath her fingertips flinched, then seized, his words dying in a slight intake of breath. She saw him swallow thickly before he continued.
“You called for your mother. Crying like a lost child.”
His abrupt bald statement startled her, both the unexpectedness of it and the morose implication. Wondering just how closely she had flirted with death after all.
“You called out for me as well. In the throes of your fever.” He spoke to the grip she still had on his knee at first, before his stare shifted to pin her. A hoarseness running through his words, faint but unmistakable. One lone snagged thread in the dark-silk weft of his voice. “And there was nothing I -”
His jaw clenched down on the rest of that sentence and the silence drew taut, like a bowstring poised to devastate.
She didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know what to do with the green gaze that searched hers, questions sparking through it like sunlight off jade. And so she sidestepped it, let the elephant in the room settle into safe, uneasy repose.
“Thank you,” she told him at last, earnest in her gratitude. “I know I couldn’t have been in better hands.”
The ghost of his usual confidence haunted the lopsided smile he offered her. “You’re welcome.” He adjusted the blankets around her once more, hesitating the barest of moments before taking her hand in his and cradling it in his lap, fingertips pressed to her wrist. “Your pulse seems to be stable.”
But he didn’t relinquish it, long after she knew he must have counted out the heartbeats necessary...and she let the languid sweep of his thumb along her skin lull her back towards the exhaustion that welcomed her with open arms. “You’ll put me to sleep doing that,” she mumbled on a smile, eyes already closed.
“Rest then. You need it still.” His own words were no more than a low murmur now, almost more felt than heard. A soothing rumble that traipsed up her arm and seemed to make itself at home inside her chest. “Schlaf gut.”
And she wondered if she was asleep already, perhaps dreaming, when she felt the careful press of lips against the fingers curled around his - as if to seal that sentiment in place.
I was always admiring Mitsuhide’s arms, imagining what they would look like, and then I got my wish. But, I never thought I needed the rest of him. My god, that waist! However, Cybird, you did not need to make his towel long. I need to also see those legs that straddled MC in his route.😂
Needs (Comte De Saint Germain x Reader Smut One-Shot)
Inspired by @alloveroliver‘s answer to who would be into desk sex. Though it is SO obvious I never thought about Comte before…
Also, this is kind of a continuation of my fic “Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall”, but you don’t have to read that fic in order to understand this One-Shot. Just… enjoy! :)
✧༺♥༻∞∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞∞༺♥༻✧
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Rated: Mature/Explicit, 18+
Word Count: 2.675
✧༺♥༻∞∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞∞༺♥༻✧
Summary: Your love is working late at night - again. You decide to give him a visit… and help him relax a little bit…
A/N: this was supposed to be written for Comte’s birthday but i’m like,,, almost 2 months late ;;v;; forgive me pls ;;v;; shkshdkj this is my first time writing for this fandom i hope you enjoy!! i hope i got his character well hakjdh and excuse the amount of details in here
Warnings: None
Perhaps getting out of bed in the dead middle of the night in a mansion full of vampires just for a midnight snack to satisfy your growling stomach wasn’t the best idea you had in mind, but by the time you were thinking of that, your footsteps had already brought you down the stairs to the first floor.
It was cold, even during the summer, and you already missed the warmth of your silky sheets and your soft and fluffy pillow that Comte has provided you on your first day. Walking down the halls, past the large entrance room where a large chandelier hung from the ceiling, you finally reached the doorways of the dining room.
Happy New Year y’all. My piece for the the Ikevamp Holiday Exchange. I played Secret Santa for: @writerinfandomworld
Hope we can do this again next year @ikevamp-holiday-exchange
Just something about the Kennyo post by @nyktoon-in-otomeland (she's explained why people are very upset with what happens in Kennyo's route, thank you hun for letting us all know😘)
This is a reminder not to send hate to anyone in the fandom over their opinions on this and certainly don't send hate to Cybird. If you want to complain, their email is below
Although this is really a horrible situation, nothing good with come from harassing and abusing Cybird staff or people on tumblr. I feel like they were just trying to make his route more dark and gripping but didn't really take the right approach. I'm not at all agreeing with or condoning what they've had Kennyo do in the story, I'm just saying you won't make it better by acting irrationally and abusively.
To anyone who was triggered by reading what Kennyo did,I really feel for you and hope you don't have to see anything else about it, at the very least I hope Cybird rewrites that part so you can still enjoy his route. It's horrible to see such a sweet character be written this way.
My apologies to everyone for leaving this vague for a bit – I’ve been in a kind of shock and trying to process. However, I think you deserve the details if you want to know what happens / if you want to be able to decide for yourself whether it will ruin the story for you. I’m going to put it under the cut for being potentially triggering. Shout out to @daeva-agas for providing translation summaries; that’s how I have this info.
Let’s see how much this is altered if at all for the English release. I am surprised they went this route for him. They couldn’t have figured anything else out? I hope they do change it. Color me disappointed for this route.
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