↬ This is a sideblog for personal/random fics I write for various fandoms I’m in. I’m still debating whether or not I should make a separate blog for each fandom, but for now, I’ll post everything here.
↬ This blog will be purely sfw!
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A/n: Small blurb to satiate my Vanitas hunger for the day
Warnings: slight ooc I suppose?? I like to think he would be a fan of the princess carry movement though
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Why, yes! Thank you for asking!”
Vanitas, laugh boisterous and contagious, further voices his pleasure by gently kicking his legs up and down. You spin around, granting him the true princess carry experience you can. You do so for some moments, stopping before you grow too dizzy.
The smile on his lips is adorable, but enough is enough. For the sake of your rapidly stiffening arms, you start to set him down. Vanitas tightens his hold on your shoulders, leaning closer into you and whining like a spoiled child.
“Vani, my arms feel like they’re going to fall off, please.”
“Nonsense! I know you’re stronger than that-!” He lets out a high-pitched yelp when your grip on him loosens just a tad. “And don’t you dare drop me!”
You huff. Making your way over to the bed, you unceremoniously drop him, and he lands with an exaggerated ‘oof-.’
Vanitas lays there for a moment, pouting up at the ceiling as if to curse your cruelty. He sits up to shoot you a half-hearted glare, and it takes everything in you to not roll your eyes at him in return. Instead, you push him back down by the shoulders and plop yourself on top of him, resting your head on the crook of his neck and kissing his jaw.
“I’ll carry you again later. Just let me rest, you dramatic man.”
He grumbles but makes no effort to move, only wrapping his arms around you.
Hi! Do you mind if you can write a Vanitas x Jeanne x fan!reader where the reader is a (human) cheerful and sweet fan of vanitas and jeanne and sees them in the Paris together and says how much she admires them as a fan and asks for a hug from both of them individually and as she's hugging vanitas, she whispers to him encouragement centered on Jeanne, saying "I know Jeanne will love you.. I'm rooting for you!" Or something like that? Oh and can u include their reactions and the type of hugs they give to her? Plz and ty!!!!!
A/N: This prompt is everything to me I tell you. I sort of decided to let the wind run wild with this one, so I hope it’s to your liking! I apologize for the long wait!
Warnings: unedited (i will wake up to this tomorrow)
Word Count: 1.8k
𝔸 𝔽𝕒𝕟'𝕤 𝔸𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟
The streets of Paris bustle on this sunny afternoon. Children run around, weaving through the legs of adults who simply wanted to get home and enjoy a cup of tea. Couples strolled about idly, enjoying their time together and then some.
And within the masses stroll a peculiar pair. A young man walks with a pep in his step, humming and smiling cheekily at his companion every once in a while, almost as though he were mocking her in some unknown manner.
The companion in question, a young woman, walks without paying him any heed, holding a parasol to protect herself from the sun’s rays. If the shit-eating grin on his face bothered her, she certainly wasn’t showing it. She does, however, give him the occasionally annoyed side-eye, watching him prance without a care in the world with a frustrated pout adorning her features.
“I’m so surprised you agreed to come out with me, Jeanne!” Vanitas jovially says.
“I was simply interested in the sights,” Jeanne tuts, visibly gripping her umbrella tighter with a shaky fist.
And staring at that peculiar couple was you. You who had been going about your day as usual until everything came to a screeching halt when you recognized two people you highly respected and admired. You nearly started vibrating with excitement. It’s not every day you get to bump into not one but two of your idols as they roamed the streets of Paris.
Without any thought as to how odd and awkward the situation could potentially become, you chase after them. You scramble to think about what to say to catch their attention. And with all the gears turning in your head, you come to a very ungraceful answer.
“Ah-!”
The couple doesn’t stop at your shout. They don’t even pause, understandably believing you weren't calling out to them in particular.
“Excuse me, sir and madam! Please wait a moment!”
Despite being closer to them, they still don’t stop. It isn’t until you nearly shout their names that they finally come to a standstill.
Turning around in confusion, they watch as your form dashes towards them. They take a step back with caution, preparing themselves for any potential danger your sudden arrival could bring. Jeanne lowers her umbrella while Vanitas reaches a hand into his coat.
Their caution is momentarily broken when you nearly trip and kiss the concrete with the grace of a newborn deer as you halt in front of them. You stand there, holding your knees and gasping for air. You hold up a finger to them, signaling that you just needed a moment to regain your senses.
The pair exchange a glance before turning back to you. Jeanne speaks up before Vanitas can, “Pardon, but do we know you?”
“Oh! My name’s (Y/N)! You wouldn’t know me,” you respond after, at long last, steadying your breathing.
Vanitas quirks a brow at this, his suspicion only growing by the second.
Their confusion only continues to grow and blossom when you finally stand up to look at them in all their glory. Your lips quivered into a grin.
With an introduction that did nothing to aid them, you start singing them praises high and low for the accomplishments they’d achieved. You moved your hands up and down as you animatedly talked, leaving them absolutely no room to interject at any point. They had no choice but to simply stand there, frozen and taking your compliments with different degrees of surprise.
Given their line of work and just how much trouble they’re used to, their caution was understandable. Both the vampires and humans were careful with their business, keeping everything under suffocating wraps. They were surprised a seemingly ordinary citizen actually knew them.
And so they wait for the other shoe to drop. Tense and wary, they don’t drop their guards. Their eyes harden, but you don’t seem to notice.
“-and you’re just so pretty Miss Jeanne! Pretty AND powerful-”
“I’m sorry, but are you done?” Vanitas snaps, impatience getting the best of him far too quickly.
Your face scrunches up with confusion just moments before realization and embarrassment dawn on you. “Am I making this awkward for you two? Was it too much?”
“What-? No. Why are you here?”
“I saw you two walking down the street and recognized you! So I made my way over before I lost you!”
Jeanne intervenes this time, “Yes, but you wouldn’t stop two people for no good reason. State why you know us and why you had to approach.” Her eyes shine, yellow and threateningly.
“Like I was saying,” you emphasize, “I admire the work you do and your capabilities.”
You pause, waiting for them to ask something else, and when they don’t, you continue, “I know it might’ve seemed weird to come up to you out of the blue like this, but I simply couldn’t contain myself! I sincerely apologize if I’ve made you two uncomfortable.”
The pair stand surprised once more, slightly less tense, but still on their guard all the same. They couldn't deny you sounded genuine. Even so, it didn’t make the situation any less suspicious.
An awkward tension fills the air around you three. Hesitation swirled and mixed with skepticism. Jeanne and Vanitas spare another glance at each other.
Still smiling, you proceed to shatter through said tension like it wasn’t even there in the first place.
“With that cleared up,” you cheerfully announce-as if their sudden questions hadn’t put a wedge into your unwavering enthusiasm, “pardon me for the sudden request, but may I hug you both? This is just so exciting for me!”
You stare at them with anticipation, eyes practically twinkling. Jeanne attempts to smile back, though it comes off awkwardly.
“It’s completely fine if you don’t want to, though!” you quickly add.
“....V-very well then,” Jeanne coughs into her fist, cheeks ablaze. It surprises both Vanitas and herself.
A quick hug wouldn’t hurt, right?
A confirmation was all you needed to spring into action. You could hear her breath hitch as you all but launched yourself at her, happily wrapping your arms around her frame with a barely suppressed squeal.
Tentative arms wrap themselves around your waist in return. Jeanne’s heart thumps against her ribcage, booming loudly in her ears. She was a little stiff, but her embrace was warm all the same. She rests her chin on your shoulder in an attempt to make it as comfortable as she can. You squeeze her once more.
You let go before the embrace could become (even more) awkward for her. She lets go of your form in a daze, now fully realizing you meant no harm. All your previous compliments hit her like a sack of bricks to the head. Her face turns a violet shade of red.
Laughing, you turn to Vanitas, who’s still cocking a brow at you. You open your arms, attempting to seem as harmless as possible.
It works somehow-as he also opens his arms to invite you in for a hug. Before he could change his mind, you waste no time latching onto him. One more suppressed squeal threatens to spill out from you as you squeeze his waist tightly. A good hug is a squeezed one, as you had always thought.
Vanitas doesn’t seem to agree, on the other hand. His embrace is a loose one. His arms wrap themselves lazily around your shoulders, not really putting in any effort but not pulling away either. That’s perfectly fine with you. Hugs come in all forms.
“Ah, I nearly forgot,” you mutter under your breath.
Your breath tickles his ear as you lean closer to Vanitas’ face, taking extra precaution so Jeanne wouldn’t be able to hear. It wasn’t a hard thing to do-she was still lost in her own little world.
You murmur some words to Vanitas, catching his attention on a sensitive topic. His body goes rigid as you finish whispering your borderline scandalous piece. He becomes aware of how much your touch suddenly feels like fire. Spluttering, he tries to form a retort of some kind. You have the audacity to pull away slightly and give him a smirk.
He has half the mind to throw you off, but for the sake of public decency, he refrains from doing so. You wiggle out of his loose embrace, flashing him a quick wink and giggling as he gawks at you.
“Well, I’ll let you two go on with your afternoon,” you declare before Vanitas could press you for answers. “Thank you so much for your time!”
Jeanne breaks out of her daze for a moment, squeaking out a goodbye to you. Vanitas smiles a tight-lipped smile but says nothing. You could almost swear he sent you a chilling glare for a split second before smiling once more.
No, there’s no way that was the case. Your euphoria must be making you delirious.
You bow to them respectfully and turn on your heel, walking away almost as quickly as you had come, a jubilant skip in your step.
“If I had known, I would have prepared some gifts for them…” they hear you mumble as you continue on your way.
The two finally release a sigh as your figure rounds a corner and disappears from view. Jeanne stands still in place, and if it were not for the confused blinking, she would have made a convincing statue.
Blue eyes stare down at her. Vanitas clenches his fists, clawed gloves prickling him slightly. His chest tightens for a moment, almost painfully so.
“Let’s go sit for a moment,” Vanitas suggests after a few beats of silence. Jeanne slowly nods in agreement, too stunned to do anything more.
He puts his hands behind his head, following her to a nearby bench to rest, process, and breathe. They all but collapse onto the wooden seat. Vanitas leans back to stare at the sky, opting to let Jeanne calm herself instead of throwing more fuel to the raging fire, though it was awfully tempting. The redness of her cheeks wasn’t caused by him, though. And that slightly sucked the joy out of the occasion.
Not that he would ever admit so. That would be preposterous.
He rubs his ear-the one you had so enthusiastically whispered into-with his hand. Your words replay in his mind like a terrible broken record.
A sudden spark of energy courses through his veins. He refuses to be shaken by a mere stranger’s words. His pride won’t let him. He snaps up from the bench and grabs Jeanne’s hand. An effort to forget your encouragement.
“Come on! We’ve got lots to see and no time to waste! This date won’t finish itself!”
Jeanne yelps as she’s pulled up by Vanitas’ surprising burst of strength and vigor, snapping her from her stupor for a moment. He pays far too much attention to how warm her fingers feel curled around his hand.
‘I’m positive Miss Jeanne will return your feelings one day! I’ll be cheering for the both of you!’
“I’m sure that won’t be happening,” he whispers to himself, dragging an indignantly squawking Jeanne behind him.
Though, the tips of his ears-colored a bright scarlet-and the loud beating of his heart seemed to hope for something more.
Do you take request? If it is alright may I request Noe x Female Reader x Domi?
ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕤 & ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕤
I’m not opposed to taking requests! Though, it may take me a while to write them as I tend to be quite busy with school;;;
A/N: This is based off of that one scene in the op where Noé is painting but he just waves around his paintbrush like its a magical wand. I hope it’s to your liking!
Synopsis: Noé attempts to embrace his creative side. As such, he asks you and Dominique to pose for him as models.
“Like this~?”
A surprised squeak escapes you as Dominique wraps an arm around your waist, closing any semblance of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around her neck slowly in return, trying to find a comfortable position.
Her little automaton attendant, Chrysler, scatters roses in the air for an added effect to create an almost magical scene. She turns to Noé, who comfortably sits on a stool with an easel and canvas in front of him, with a self-satisfied smirk.
He hums at the question, holding up his paintbrush and closing an eye as if scrutinizing the pose with a trained eye. “....It’s missing something,” he says after a few moments.
As if knowing what it was, Dominique lets you go for a moment to, to your surprise, produce a rose from one of her pockets. She proceeds to place the stem, thankfully free of thorns, between her teeth, sending you a flirty wink as you roll your eyes. She then wraps both arms around you this time, flushing your body up against hers in a tight squeeze.
Already used to her theatrics, Noé flashes her a thumbs up in approval with a completely straight face. He begins mixing paints on the palette, his hopes high and ready to tackle the making of this new portrait. While he busies himself with preparation, you turn to the woman swaying you back and forth on your heels.
“Do you always carry random roses in your pockets, Domi?” you ask teasingly.
“Of course!” she huffs with a sense of pride. “You never know when one will come in handy.”
“What an odd preparation….”
“But a helpful one!”
“Stay still! I need complete concentration!” Noé interrupts with a dramatic cry.
The obvious subject his words were directed to shoots him some words muffled by the flower in her mouth. She complies with his demand, ceasing the irregular rhythm of her swaying, and readjusting her hold on you.
You both stand perfectly still for some moments, enveloped in complete silence-save for the beating of your hearts and the scratching of Noé’s palette knife. Needless to say, your patience soon runs dry with nothing to do.
In an attempt to fight off the inevitable boredom coming your way, you choose to observe your surroundings as much as you can without turning your head. You and Dominique stand in the center of a marble gazebo-one of many in the Sade family’s expansive gardens.
The floral scent of roses tickles your nose, not just from the flower between Dominique’s teeth or the petals Chrysler continuously spews out with vigor. Numerous rose bushes decorated the estate as far as the eye can see, and even then some, speckling the different hues of green with speckles of white, reds, and pinks.
The wind softly tousles Dominique’s hair, black strands framing her face as her unwavering gaze admires you. You lock eyes with her, commencing a one-sided staring contest to occupy your mind with something new.
She doesn’t offer much of a challenge, unfortunately-blinking a couple of times as if she hadn’t just lost to you multiple rounds in the same minute.
Bored of winning without the fanfare, you curiously tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to sneak a peek of Noé hard at work. He sits leaning forward with his tongue slightly poking out his mouth, immersed in the creative process of his painting. You giggle at the sight but stop when he suddenly snaps his head at you.
He squints while you stiffen with an awkward smile under his look, but he says nothing. He turns back to continue his brush strokes. It continues like that-from staring at the canvas to staring at you, and then staring at you, to staring at the canvas. A focus that couldn’t be broken.
Eventually, even Dominique grows bored, her limbs becoming stiff and aching from the lack of movement. Just like before, she starts to sway you from left to right. You don’t put up a fight to stop her.
Noé doesn’t notice your slight movements until a couple of moments later when he gets a good and confused look at you. He sends Dominique an unamused stare, pointing his brush at her in accusation.
“Domi! I said to stay still!” he scolds, not an ounce of bite behind his words.
No doubt purposefully ignoring him, she turns you around so your back is against her front and starts to spin you around in lazy circles, almost dancing but not quite. You do your best to not fall-leaning your weight onto Dominique to maintain your balance, letting her drag you around inside of the gazebo.
Noé sets down his palette and brush on the table with a sigh. He turns to watch the two of you, chuckling at the way Dominique tickles your sides while you attempt to fight her off, laughing all the while.
She stops to send him a lopsided smile, golden eyes shining mischievously, before turning back to you. Tired of the rose in her mouth, she takes it out and places it behind your ear, “How can I stay still when this one is being so adorable? It’s a crime that shouldn’t go unpunished,” she exclaims, stroking your cheek with her knuckles.
“I’m not even doing anything, Domi!” You half-heartedly continue to try and escape her grasp. She only pinches your cheek in response, squeezing you a little more tightly.
“You don’t need to be doing anything, my dear!”
“At this rate, Noé will never be able to finish his grand masterpiece,” you sigh, your smile unwilling to leave you.
“He can paint an action scene instead!”
The man appears next to you, having given up on his masterpiece far too quickly. “It’s fine, (Y/N). Paintings take time,” he says with a smile. “For now, the roses have given me a different idea.”
You laugh at his quick shift in focus, “Oh yeah? What?”
“Let’s make flower crowns,” he declares, eyes shining with newfound excitement. “The gardens have a lot of them already, so I don’t think they’ll notice if a few go missing!”
Not a moment later, he sprints off, a completely new quest occupying his mind and his canvas left abandoned. You and Dominique exchange a knowing look before snapping your heads forward in surprise when you hear a yelp.
Dominique leaves your side in haste, “Don’t prick your fingers on the thorns, you fool! Be careful!”
Summary: Vanitas drags you to dance with him when a band of musicians starts to play. The only problem? You can’t dance.
Warnings: Writing errors, bad descriptions of dancing (I don’t know how to dance and it really shows)
A/N: I have two left feet when it comes to dancing and I just know this guy would step on my toes out of revenge. I took direct inspiration from that one scene where Noé steps on Vanitas’ foot and insincerely apologizes for it
“Vanitas, look!”
A pair of blue eyes follow your pointed finger to a quickly forming crowd in the center of the park. The previously tranquil atmosphere, replaced with laughter and lively chatter. Shifting on the bench you two had been resting on, Vanitas leans forward to get a better look. In the heart of it all, sitting on the fountain’s edge, a group of musicians plays their tunes. Pairs of people danced along to the rhythm-some elegantly while others simply enjoyed each other’s company.
“It’s normal to see street musicians by this time of day,” he says, before turning to you with a Cheshire grin, “Is this your way of asking me to dance? I never knew you could be so bold!”
You lower your hand and look away nervously. Truthfully, you did want to try it. There was only a slight problem. You had no previous dancing experience, especially not with a partner. Moving your hips or tapping your heels occasionally when you listened to music from the comforts of your room could hardly count.
And you certainly didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Vanitas of all people.
“.....I don’t know how to dance,” you murmur after a few moments. “I never had to learn, so I never bothered in the first place.”
Without skipping a beat, Vanitas grabs your hand firmly and yanks you up.“That’s fine! You’ll learn as we go along.”
Giving you no time to deny him, let alone run away, Vanitas drags you to the water fountain. You uselessly try to walk in the opposite direction to no avail. Your companion pays no mind to your attempts to dissuade him.
He finally stops when you reach a somewhat empty spot on the makeshift dance floor. He doesn’t let go of your hand, preventing your escape. The smile he sends you only fuels the nervous feeling in your gut. “Don’t worry! Follow my lead, and you’ll be fine.”
……..
……..
Vanitas had said that confidently two songs ago. Foolishly, he had been eager at the chance to make you flustered while you two danced the evening away. That had been the plan. Unfortunately, you seemed to have other plans for him, and his aching feet complained as he continued to move and sway.
Your lack of skill was evident. Sometimes you’d cling to him a little too tightly; other times, you’d turn into a lifeless doll in his arms. Vanitas himself wasn’t the best dancer either. Nevertheless, he knew how to manage himself just fine. Making up for your mistakes was something even he couldn’t do, however.
For what felt like the hundredth time, your heel connected with his toes. You quickly squeaked out an embarrassed apology. He didn’t groan out in pain as he had done the first few times. He didn’t even flinch or wince. The lack of reaction worried you a bit. The smile Vanitas had plastered on his face certainly didn’t match his eyes.
“You’re a terrible dancer.” He states plainly.
You say nothing, ashamedly pouting at your lack of grace. Despite your best efforts, your body refuses to sink into the flow Vanitas has set. Helplessly, you step on his foot once more-screaming internally as you wince in his stead.
“V-vanitas, can we stop now? I’ve already embarrassed myself enough.”
The man hums in response, his eerie, blank smile still glued onto his face. Suddenly, you yelp as you feel something stomp on your toes. You look down for a moment to see Vanitas’ retracting foot. You gasp at his betrayal.
Locking eyes, you stare at him in disbelief, “D-did you just step on my foot?”
He tilts his head to the side and smiles wider, innocently.
“Oh my! I seem to be quite clumsy today!” he laughs. In one swift motion, he steps on you again-your right foot this time. “Please, forgive me, dear.”
It wasn’t a harsh stomp, of course. It was obvious he was doing it out of pettiness, and this was his way of getting revenge. You smile back at him, giggling at his ‘clumsiness.’ If he wanted to act childishly, so be it. Two can play at that game.
The performers begin playing another tune, something a little more lively and fast-paced. A perfect song for you to slip in some more ‘accidental steps.’
Your partner twirls you around, following the rhythm of the music. Newfound mirth shines in his eyes. With one hand placed securely on your waist and another holding your hand, he leads.
Not a minute later, as you focus on matching your partner’s flow, you feel his foot step on yours once more. You quickly look down, ignoring his scolding about watching your feet when you dance, and you step on his foot in retaliation. Vanitas proceeds to huff and hypocritically look down, as well. At the right moment, he stamps his foot on yours, just as you were about to pull it back.
“Stop stepping on my feet!” you whisper-shout, trying not to attract the attention of those around the two of you.
“No, you stop stepping on mine!” he whispers back.
“I’m not doing it on purpose!”
An old couple sitting on a bench nearby watch and chuckle at you, your antics reminding them of when they were younger.
……..
……..
Three songs later, and plenty of intentional and unintentional toe-stepping, Vanitas finally separates himself from you, giving you a scowl that passes off more like a pout as he does so. You mirror his expression while slightly wincing at the dull ache in your feet. The onlookers cheer as the song finally comes to a close, and another begins.
Vanitas hobbles over to some nearby steps, away from the lively crowd of people. Gently, he pulls you along by the arm.
The dancing itself had been fun. Vanitas had saved you from almost kissing the floor a few times when you had moved a little too fast.
You could tell he had enjoyed the endeavor too. That small smile he had tried hiding each time he pulled you closer wasn’t going to fool anyone.
He collapses on the steps with a relieved but exhausted sigh. You follow suit and sit beside him, resting your tired head on his shoulder.
“My feet hurt,” he complains, “Why are you so terrible at dancing?”
“I did warn you. What right do you have to complain? My feet ache too because of a certain someone."
“You stepped on me more.”
“Oh, shush,” you respond, playfully slapping his chest.
You two say nothing for a while, opting to bask in the warm feeling in your chests. You sit there, resting and watching as the couples continue their enthusiastic dancing. Merely watching them makes you feel more exhausted.
You turn to stare at Vanitas, grinning when you see him still pouting, arms crossed. You hadn’t expected the sudden terrible dancing lessons, but you wouldn’t argue against them happening again. You’d need to rest for at least a month, however. Both your pride and body needed time to recover.
Your happy mood quickly takes a plunge when Vanitas speaks up again, groaning.
Summary: Vanitas finds himself momentarily stranded under the rain. That is until you find him.
Warnings: Writing errors
A/N: My mind said rainy day prompt and I wrote this as fast as my fingers could type
Vanitas sighs as he leans against a shop’s large window, hiding from the sudden downpour under an awning. He does his best to squeeze out the water from his drenched clothing, shivering when a sudden gust of wind passes by. He rubs his arms with his hands in an attempt to generate some warmth.
The man gazes out into the scene on the streets. Children giggle as raindrops tickle their cheeks and noses. The rascals jump in every puddle they can find, despite their parents’ best efforts to keep them dry. Adults use whatever they can to shield themselves from the assault of water. As quickly as the rain had come, the street soon became bare of people, save for the poor bluenette shivering like a leaf.
The rhythmic sound of raindrops falling onto concrete fills Vanitas with growing annoyance. Glaring at the ground, he weighs his options. He could wait for the rain to stop, or at least calm down a tad. Or, he could sprint back to the hotel now, given that he was already soaking wet. Another frustrated sigh leaves him.
“There you are!” a voice exclaims, yanking him away from his train of thought.
He looks up to see you sprinting towards him with an umbrella in hand. It bobs up and down with each step you take. You pant breathlessly as you come to a halt beside Vanitas, who curiously stares at your disheveled form.
Finally catching your breath after a few moments, you look towards him and take in his appearance. Wet strands of dark hair stick to his features; his eyes wide and face scrunched up in mild confusion at your sudden arrival. His baggy clothing clings to his form.
Before you can make a comment, Vanitas places a hand on his chest in his usual dramatic fashion, “You came out just to find little old me? How sweet of you, dear (Y/n)!”
You send him an amused but worried smile, “How about we get back to the hotel before you tease me? I’d rather you not be grouchy tomorrow because of a cold.”
He pouts but joins you under the umbrella’s welcoming protection, careful not to get too close, “Your reactions are always lackluster.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
The two of you make your way back to the hotel in silence. The sounds of your shoes tapping the pavement and the rain hitting the umbrella fill your ears. It was ….relaxing, in a sense. Were you not so worried about your wet and shaking companion, you would have enjoyed taking a walk like this in his company. You pass by people taking cover from the rain under awnings, much like Vanitas had been doing. They look at your umbrella with jealousy shining in their eyes. You do your best to ignore their stares.
“How did you find me, anyway?” Vanitas asks curiously, sniffling as he rubs his nose. He gladly takes the handkerchief you hand him.
You cringe, remembering how you ran around the big city, desperately trying to locate him. Thankfully, his unusual clothing choices and hairstyle made him easy to find.
You decide to answer truthfully, “I dashed from street corner to street corner. It isn’t hard to spot you, but I still roamed around for a while.”
He laughs in response, finding the mental picture of you running around like a headless chicken funny. While he certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud, he appreciated the gesture. Being able to go back to the hotel and into some warm clothing quickly was one-thousand times preferable over waiting in the rain like an abandoned dog.
Vanitas suddenly comes to a stop. He stands still in the middle of the sidewalk. You stop as well, making sure he stays shielded from the rain.
“Vanitas? What are you-”
He lunges at you, swiftly enclosing you into a hug. You nearly drop the umbrella in surprise.
“VANITAS-?!” you shriek. You wiggle around in an attempt to escape his hold. “I’m getting wet! Let me go!”
He squeezes you gently in response, rocking you softly from side to side. “It’s cold. I’m simply trying to warm myself up. Now stay still.”
After a few fruitless moments, you cease your struggle. Instead, you start rubbing his back with your free hand in an attempt to bring him some much-needed body heat. He continues to hold you, not caring about how soaked you’re getting in the process. Out of curiosity, you turn your head to the side, just enough to see the tip of your lover’s ear a bright shade of red. A teasing smile finds its way to your face.
“You know, Vanitas,” you start, feeling him tense the tiniest bit, “if you wanted a hug, you could’ve just told me.”
