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I was playing around with this prompt generator by using self-ships that I've come to like on tumblr, one of them being @dongiovannaswife and Giorno.
I showed them a screenshot of one of the prompts and they liked it and started playing with the generator themselves and that gave me an idea.
I decided to make this into a challenge for every and all writers who self-ship! A lot of people are too shy or scared to self-ship so I wanted to make this to give them a boost so to speak to just say "Fuck it!" And write about their self-ship to their heart's content!
So to do this challenge just click this link:
And type in the names of the character you ship yourself with and your own and click 'Generate'.
Whichever prompt you get, you write. Whether it's sfw or nsfw. However if your too uncomfortable or just don't write nsfw you can change the prompt until you get an sfw one.
I highly encourage all you wrtiters who self-ship to try this! I know there are quite a lot of you who want to write self-ship but are too embarrassed or shy, but what you need is a boost! And I want to give you that boost!
Please try it or send/tag those who self-ship to try it! I want you all to really let loose!
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a/n: i realised what i love so much abt coffee lmao. itâs his voice and his lines... *dreamy sigh*
warning: unhealthy relationship, implied drugging, implied kidnapping
word count:
pairing: yandere! coffee x gender neutral! summoner! reader
summary: Coffee loved you and he would be damned if he lost you like he lost the only other person he loved this much
Coffee liked to think that he was immune to humanity and itâs harsh nature. He didnât care what others thought and what othersâ motivations were. He was his own person and, for better or worse, he would turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to other people.
What was the point in caring about other people anyway when other people only seemed to hate for no reason? Why should he have to do things for them when they clearly only cared about their own selfish motivations?
Coffee had found happiness once upon a time, with a Master Attendant that had such a big heart that it killed him. Or, more accurately, that Master Attendant cared so much about food souls and their rights that other people killed him.
He could still see it, sometimes. The way the fire blazed as his home, the one place he believed he could be happy, burnt down until it was nothing but dust. He could still remember how it felt, how hot it was against his skin despite the fact that he stood a ways away. He could still remember how Milk trembled, desperate and distraught.
Losing people he deemed important to him made him distant and he didnât think he could ever change, not anymore, not after him. All his charismatic personality could ever be was a mask.Â
Then, of course, you came in. You summoned him and he thought youâd just be another Master Attendant, someone who would use him however you wanted. He thought there was no way he could ever love anyone as much as he loved that Master Attendant.
It seemed you lived to prove him wrong.
âCoffee, whatâs the matter?â You asked and your head tilted to the side in that cute way you always did whenever you were thinking or asking questions. Your eyes were so wide, so innocent, as they stared into his.
He didnât understand how you could be so caring. You reminded him of that Master Attendant in that way, in fact. Both you and he cared about Coffee and tried your best not to burden him with favors. When everyone else treated food souls like servants, both of you treated them like close friends, like happy family members.Â
A lot about you reminded him of that Master Attendant.Â
You had the same motivations; you wanted to see to the acceptance of food souls and to the success of your restaurant. You just wanted every single one of them to be happy, from Coffee to Boston Lobster, from food souls you had a covenant with to food souls youâve yet summoned.
That was what worried him.
You had a whole bustling restaurant that served dish after delicious dish. They were all different but your restaurant gave them that tasty twist that kept people coming back. However, your restaurant was staffed by food soul after food soul, so many of them wanting to help even just a little bit as if to repay you for the happiness and safety you brought them.
It was scary. If that Master Attendant was killed for having two food souls, what would happen to you? If that Master Attendant was hated for his coffee shop where neither Coffee nor Milk really truly helped, how would people feel about you?
âItâs nothing.â He finally answered your question after such a long pause.Â
You opened your mouth to obviously tell him you didnât quite buy his response but, before you could, he raised his hand to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair like a master would a puppy.
It obviously took you by surprise for one second before you were pushing his hand away, pouting with those irresistible lips of yours, your eyes narrowed at him. He chuckled.
His days seemed to be an endless barrage of moments like this, moments with you that he would cherish forever, moments where he found himself immeasurably happy. You always seemed to be by his side nowadays that he couldnât even imagine what life would be like without you.
There was no way he could risk it. It was terrifying to even imagine. He would rather the world set ablaze than this restaurant, he would rather everyone else turned to dust before he would let your body burn. The realization settled in his chest like lead.
He loved you, didnât he? Just like that Master Attendant. Your affection for him, how you cared for him and your determination to see to your dreams; all of it had him falling head over heels in love all over again.
He had thought his heart had burned with that damned coffee shop but, to his surprise, his heart was with you.
He had to protect you. That was it, wasnât it? He had to protect you, take you far away from this place, isolate you so that nobody could ever hurt you. Nobody could set you on fire if nobody could find you, right?
The cogs in his head kept turning as he stared at you.
Youâd never let him. You were so determined to see your dreams come true that youâd never let anyone else manage anything. Everything had to be done by your hand or not at all. So, if he had to take you away, he would have to do it by force.
It wouldâve been easy enough. You trusted him so wholeheartedly that, if he told you that you could fly, youâd probably jump off the nearest cliff. It was another one of the things about you that just made him love you more.
He could put you to sleep, carry you away in the middle of the night, make sure nobody could follow the both of you as he took you to safety.Â
Youâd never forgive him but that was the thing, wasnât it? It didnât matter if you loved him as much as he loved you (as impossible as that sounded) or if you thought he was the dirt underneath your shoes. All that mattered was that you were safe.
With that in mind, he smiled at you, the same charming alluring smile that always had you drop your guard. He took your hands into his, fingers intertwining as the warmth of his palm seeped onto yours. âSweetheart, I made a cup of coffee. Do you want to try it?â
a/n: another favourite of mine!!! b-52 is my absolute tank like this baby is my strongest food soul!!! i wish i had his mechanical storm skinnn ugh!!!
warning: excessive cuteness
word count: 1286
pairing: b-52 x gender neutral! summoner! reader
summary: You forgot to bundle up but, thankfully, B-52 was there to keep you warm
You were different from everyone else and B-52 knew that as soon as you had summoned him.
B-52 told you his name and that he was just a simple cocktail but that he would try his hardest to serve you. He had thought that it was a simple and accurate introduction so that you knew what to expect when dealing with him. That was how he always was; short and to the point but efficient and practical
However, his words seemed to have upset you and you took his hands into yours and told him, with conviction, that he wasnât simple at all and that there was nothing about him that was anything short of amazing.Â
That was how you always treated him. Both people and food souls tended to keep their distance because of his history as a war machine but, to you, he was a wonderful food soul, someone you cared about more than you cared about yourself, someone you perhaps even loved.
It was odd. He usually didnât let himself indulge in fantasy like that but imagining a world where you loved him always set his heart on fire.Â
He didnât know why. He didnât even fully understand the word âloveâ but, still, it was the only thing that fit. What you made him feel was something beyond happy, something more painful than sadness but sweeter than victory.Â
He was new to all of these feelings but he knew, intrinsically, that what he felt for you couldnât have been anything else but love.
Moments like the one he was in only solidified that thought.
He was currently leaning against his motorcycle, the air around him cold. He certainly couldnât feel the pain of the chill but, obviously enough, apparently you could.
You had settled yourself in between his legs, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. However, you managed to worm your arms into his jacket so, currently, the two of you were technically sharing one jacket.Â
At this point, he wasnât too phased by the physical contact. You had always been a physical person (at least, towards him). You had made a habit of hugging him and grabbing his hands and looping your arms with him.Â
At first, it made him short-circuit. Holding hands with you made his palms sweaty, hugging you made him straighten, looping arms with you made him stumble. Eventually, he had to accept it as part of his new life as your food soul.
That didnât mean it didnât make his heart race or his stomach flutter whenever you were too close but it did mean that sharing a jacket wasnât too big of a deal.
In fairness, he had to admit, it was a very warm jacket too. It also wasnât all that big however so, though it certainly wrapped around both of you, because it was unzipped, your back was exposed to the harsh snowy weather.
âMaster, I told you to layer more clothes, had I not?â B-52âs voice came off monotone like it always did but you didnât seem to mind because you just looked up at him, pout on your cute lips, your chin resting against his chest.
âI dressed as warmly as I could! Itâs not my fault it was way colder than I thought it would be.â You huffed out, your breath leaving your lips as a cloud of vapor. Surprisingly, he felt it fan against his skin, warm and almost tickling.
Then, you sighed loudly âI canât believe we have to make a delivery in this weather and sheâs not even here! Weâve been waiting forever!â
âWe have been waiting for approximately six minutes.â He corrected before he could help himself and, really, though he wanted to be treated like a human being, he couldnât help but act more robotic and machine-like.
Despite that, you took it all in stride and laughed, pressing your body closer to him and nestling your face into the crook of his neck âYou really are amazing. I didnât even know you were keeping track of the time!â
âItâs nothing.â B-52 shook his head as if to deflect your words but your praise already settled in his chest, making his heart beat almost twice as fast.
âIn fact, I am not so amazing.â He added almost like an afterthought âMy body must be very cold, right?âÂ
He couldnât see your face but he could feel your lips shifting into a frown against his skin âAnd?â
âI cannot even bring my Master the warmth they desire. I apologize.âÂ
You huffed again, your breath much hotter against his skin now that you were so close âYour worth isnât tied to how useful you are to me, B-52. Youâre more than just⌠a tool for me to use!â
Your words, like your praise from earlier, settled against his rib cage, fuelling the fire in his chest that threatened to burst through. It felt almost like an attack or perhaps like a bomb, ticking in pace with his heart.
It almost felt like your words would be the end of him.
âPlus, if you wrap your arms around me, Iâm sure itâll be fine!â You added, arms tightening around him as if to demonstrate âYouâre so stiff, itâs like hugging a brick wall!â
He frowned further at that but he had to admit that he wasnât exactly made to be cuddling material. He had been a war machine and, before you, he had no other purpose but to fight and attack. So, really, this was new territory and he didnât know how to tread.
Slowly and hesitantly, he moved to zip his jacket up. You hummed almost as if you didnât understand what he was doing but you trusted him enough to let him continue. Then, after you were covered completely by his jacket, he shifted, moving his arms so they encircled your waist and curling his body so he practically wrapped around you.Â
You chuckled, nuzzling your cheek against his. He moved his head so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck, just like you had done only seconds ago with him.
âSee? Much better.â You sounded like you were joking but there was a tone of contentment in your voice, like you were comfortable, like you wouldnât want to be anywhere else.Â
He liked that thought. B-52 let himself fantasize again; let himself think that, perhaps, with how tightly you held on to him, it was true that you wouldnât want to be anywhere else. Why would you be so content in his arms if that wasnât the case?
He quickly pushed those thoughts away. Letting himself dream of such unachievable things was unlike him. Yet, even when he tried so hard to take his mind off of such topics, his chest still burned with that familiar yet so unfamiliar feeling, like the ticking time bomb there was about to explode.
When he said nothing, you spoke up again, voice obviously worried âI mean... you like hugging me, right?â
He quickly nodded, his nose nuzzling against your skin as his cheeks were set aflame and his chest ablaze.
You smiled against his skin again, your worry quickly falling away âGood! I think, if we continue to cuddle like this, your bodyâll warm up! Thermodynamics and stuff, right?â
B-52 couldnât understand how you could be so comfortable cuddling with what was essentially a weapon but he didnât mind. Though he couldnât feel the painful chill of the snow, he could feel the warmth of your body, how soft it was against him, how comfortably you fit in his arms.
He hummed, nodding âIt doesnât matter⌠if you continue like this, it will become boiling hot...â
a/n: to make up for the fact that i wrote more abt red wine, i wrote another thing for our favourite duck daddy
warning: excessive cuteness
word count: 1168
pairing: peking duck x gender neutral! master attendant! reader
summary: When both you and his children go missing, Peking Duck couldnât help but worry.
Peking Duck had a big problem.
Usually, he spent his days smoking tobacco out of his pipe, minding his own business and trying to keep the children in line. Maybe, sometimes, the monotony was broken by a task or a favor he had to do but, most of the time, people left him to his own devices.
Well, most people did.
See, oftentimes, like his small line of little ducklings, you also trailed after him, your bright smile and warm cheeks just as adorable as his little children. Youâd babble about anything that crossed your mind or about things that you were worried about, trusting him as if he wasnât some dark monster.
It warmed his heart and he enjoyed having you around. In fact, he wouldnât hesitate to even go so far as to say that he loved you. He loved how kind you were, how thoughtful and clever and sweet you were, how determined you had to be to see your dream come true.
Peking Duck was happy to be someone you deemed worthy of your time and affections.
That was beside the point. The problem he currently had was that his usual queue of followers was nowhere to be found. It wouldnât have been so odd if it had just been you because, obviously, as an owner of a restaurant, you couldnât exactly afford to always be by his side.
Sometimes you had to accompany an expedition (though, usually, you brought him along for that) or maybe you had to gather some materials (though you also usually brought him for that tooâŚ) or perhaps you had to make a delivery? (though he accompanied you for those as wellâŚ)
Slowly, he came to the realization that, like his children, he really was practically attached to you all the time. The excuses he made for you crumbled and his panic seemed to increase. If that was the case, then where were you?
More importantly, where were you and where were his children? He was hesitant to accept the fact that you never left his side, that was true. However, there was no doubt about it, his children never had anything else to do but follow him.
Now, both of you had disappeared? It was worrying to say the least.
Peking Duckâs mission as of that moment was to find you. After finding you, without question, you would obviously help him find his missing children.Â
He had already looked in the kitchens of the restaurant and in the airship and even around the house. At this point, his search felt futile and everyone he encountered either hadnât seen you that day either or were just too busy to notice if you had come by.
âAh, Black Tea.â Peking Duck could only feel relief at the sight of the reliable food soul âSurely, you must know where our Master Attendant has hidden? Iâve been searching for them all day.â
Black Tea raised a slender eyebrow âTheyâve been doing paperwork all day.â
Peking Duck internally cursed. Of course, he hadnât thought of that. You avoided paperwork like the plague and you hated being stuck in your stuffy office so it hadnât even crossed his mind to check there. He thanked the beverage before quickly making his way to your office.
When he walked up to the door, it was already slightly ajar so all he really had to do was give it a gentle push. He peeked in, worried expression obvious on his face. Immediately, that expression fell and was replaced with one of absolute adoration.
You had put a couch in the office that could pull into a mattress for days where you were too tired to walk back to your room after a long day of paperwork (or for days where you wanted to take a nap and procrastinate).
He didnât know what your excuse for today was but he couldnât care less. You were sprawled across the mattress, thin blanket barely wrapping around your legs. You had probably tossed and turned in your sleep because your shirt rode up, revealing your soft stomach. Your face looked cute, peaceful.
Sprinkled around you were his naughty children, all sleeping just like you were.
He walked into the room and sighed though he didnât know if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of disbelief. Peking Duck had run around the entire compound, looking for all of you like a duck without a head. Apparently, his searching was all in vain because you had been in one place the entire time.
As he approached the makeshift bed, you let out a soft meek grumble before turning your entire body to one side, your back facing him. Some of the children were rustled and they complained with a small quiet quack. Still, you remained asleep.
Gently, he lifted his children, one after the other, into his arms, moving them so your body curled around their small little clustered group. They settled almost immediately, each one of them comfortable around you. Then, just as gently, he pulled your shirt down and smoothed your hair.Â
A feeling he couldnât quite label squirmed around in his chest, making his stomach churn and his heart beat twice as fast. Something about you so vulnerable, so soft and so open, made him feel so⌠mushy.
Before any second thoughts could appear, Peking Duck settled himself down onto the mattress, pressing his body against yours, his arm curling around your stomach to pull you closer to him. You were warm with sleep and you felt perfect right against him.
His eyes fluttered closed, ready to take a nap just like you had.
Before he could, you squirmed, suddenly bolting upright and looking at him with wide eyes. He sighed, this time assuredly with disbelief. Just as he was about to get the rest he deserved too...
âPe-Peking Duck!â You had stuttered out, your cheeks adorably pink as the children squawked with protests. They, like their father, didnât seem to enjoy the fact that you were sitting up and moving away.
Instead of addressing what was obviously your silent concern, he shook his head and lifted his arm as if to motion you to lay back down âDonât be too far from me, come a little closer.â
You tilted your head to the side, considering his words for just one second. Before you could protest, he was already pulling you down, pressing your body flush against his once again, his arm wrapping much more securely around your midriff.Â
The children barely complained. They too just shifted around, pressing their cute feathered bodies against you as if they wanted to be close to you, just like their father.
Softly, his voice deep, Peking Duck whispered into your ear âNever stray from me again.â
You shivered, your arm moving to hug his. Slowly, you nodded and that was all the assurance he needed before he tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder and closed his eyes.
a/n: another favourite becos its all abt favouritism here! unlike everyone else, i donât really use coffee that much on my teams... actually, i donât kno why heâs one of my favourites. maybe itâs his charisma? lmao
warning: excessively cute?
pairing: coffee x gender neutral! summoner! reader
word count: 1564
summary: Coffee was like an unachievable dream: something you could desperately chase after and, maybe, if you were lucky enough, you could reach him.
Coffee always confused you.
He was always so charming and sweet. He knew his way around peopleâs hearts and he knew exactly what words would leave people flustered and pleased. No matter what he said, his deep voice left butterflies in your stomach and you didnât doubt that he had the same effect with everyone else.
Which was why you were always so confused.
It seemed, ever since youâd summoned him, he had never left your side. There were moments where youâd accompany explorations or where heâd be needed somewhere else but, barring that, it felt like the two of you were glued at the hip.
When he was free, he often invited you to taste different coffee roasts with him or to simply have a cup of coffee and a pleasant talk. He seemed to enjoy teaching you how to make different coffee drinks and he always served your coffee with a foamy heart on top.
There was definitely no denying that Coffee held some sort of romantic feelings towards you. You didnât have a problem with that, of course, because how could you? Coffee was kind and funny and you genuinely enjoyed his company. You returned his feelings wholeheartedly.
It also helped that he was one of the most handsome food souls youâve had the pleasure of summoning but that was just a bonus.
What confused you was why.
You were you and, though you werenât exactly as ugly as perhaps a grotesque fallen angel, you certainly werenât the creme of the crop. You werenât as seductive as Spicy Gluten or as graceful as Foie Gras or as charming as Chocolate.
Why would Coffee spend his time with you when he could so easily spend his time with them? Â
âWhy are you staring at me so strangely?â
You were snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar deep voice and you looked up at him, standing in front of you on the other side of the counter. Your thumb tranced the lip of your mug and you shook your head, cheeks warming.
âNo reason.â You quickly denied. Far too quickly for Coffee, it seemed, because his eyes narrowed almost playfully as if he wanted to read your mind.
To distract yourself from his gaze, you quickly took a sip of the warm coffee in front of you. You let the sweetness settle against your tongue, enjoying how smooth and creamy the cappuccino tasted. Coffee always seemed to make the perfect cup.
When you pulled the mug away and let it settle on the counter, a chuckle left Coffeeâs lips. It was your turn to look at him quizzically and he gestured to his own mouth. âYou have milk foam above your lip.âÂ
Your warm cheeks turned even redder and you quickly tried to wipe it away with the tips of your fingers. However, it seemed, you werenât successful because Coffee only laughed just a little bit harder.
âCome here and close your eyes.â He gestured for you to lean closer and, though you felt hesitant, you did as he asked, eyes fluttering closed as you rested against the counter to push yourself closer.Â
What you expected to be cold fingertips actually turned out to be a warm tongue, swiping against your bottom lip, his chilly hand cupping your searing cheek.
You pulled away so fast that you felt as if, perhaps, you mightâve gotten whiplash. Certainly, there was a painful feeling but it wasnât in your neck. Instead, the pain settled in your chest just as you settled back into your seat.
You had wondered and dreamed and guessed but never in your life had you ever expected him to actually make such a bold move. He was bold at times, yes, but never this bold. It left your stomach fluttering and your heart aching.
He looked hurt too. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes swam with confusion, the same kind of confusion, perhaps, that was on your face.
âYou⌠you canâtâŚâ You stuttered out, cheeks going from searing to hot enough to cook. You even went so far as to cover your mouth, the feeling of his tongue still lingering on your bottom lip âI⌠IâŚâ
âI thought you felt the same way.â Coffee interrupted you, eyebrows furrowed.
Slowly, you nodded, eyes peering up at him as if scared âWell⌠yes, of-of courseâŚâ
Coffee seemed to relax at this, his tense shoulders dropping, but that confusion in his face stayed âThen, why would you pull away?â
You couldnât find the words. They so easily came to you when you had been so absentminded earlier but, now, your thoughts seemed to zoom so fast and you could barely grasp at any one of them.
You remembered your insecurities.Â
He looked so good standing next to Chocolate, his pale skin a contrast to Chocolateâs dark one as Chocolate would often grab Coffeeâs wrist or even just wrap an arm around Coffeeâs shoulders. The two of them would talk and their conversations would flow so smoothly, unlike how you often stuttered.
There was Milk too, how the two of them didnât even need a smooth conversation. They looked at each other and understood so easily what the other was trying to say, as if they could read each other's minds. You werenât close enough to Coffee to even hope to assume what he was thinking.
 You turned your head to look away from him as if ashamed or, maybe, just fascinated by the tile floor âI⌠Iâm not good⌠And you, you, youâre so handsome⌠and kind? And I, I donât think⌠I mean, the both of us? We, we couldnât--â
His hand found its way back to your cheek, the chilliness of it cooling against the heat of your skin. He turned your head back to him so easily that you found yourself staring into his blue eyes once again.Â
âI love you.â He said the words so easily that you couldnât help but gaze at him with wide eyes, lips parted as if to try and say something except the words wouldnât come to your throat. In fact, your head blanked and you couldnât think of anything to say.
He smiled as if knowing exactly how you felt and his thumb swept gently against your cheek âIâve always thought of myself as bitter, hardened by the awful experiences Iâve felt.â
âBut, if Iâm bitter, if my heart is like dark coffee, then you must be the sweetest sugar in the world.â He continued, his voice still deep, still soothing âYes, I can exist just like this, just as dark and jaded, and it would be fine but, sweetheart... honey, you make life so much more palatable.â
You couldnât believe your ears or your eyes. It felt so impossible and yet, here Coffee was, his face so close to you that you could feel his breath against your lips. You were sure you were about to faint. Maybe you already have and this was just some sort of fever dream your mind was making up.Â
âI love you.â Coffee distracted you from your panicked thoughts and, this time, his tone was more insistent, as if he wanted you to forget those insecurities, those thoughts that the two of you couldnât be together, those thoughts distracting you from what was in front of you.
Slowly, you replied âI⌠I⌠love⌠I love you too.â
He didnât ask for anything else. He just smiled widely, the brightest smile youâve ever seen him make. Then, suddenly (or, maybe, not so suddenly because everything around you seemed to be going in slow motion), he bent forward, his lips touching yours gently, sweetly.
Without hesitating, you leaned against his palm, head tilting so that your mouths could press more closely against each other. He took that as a sign to deepen the kiss and his tongue was back to swiping against your bottom lip. You didnât even pause before your lips were parting for him and your tongue was pressing against his.Â
He tasted like bitter coffee which, to you, wasnât such a surprise. After all, most of the time, that was how he drank his coffee. It was such a contrast to the cappuccino you had in your mouth just minutes before.
He was acidic, bitter, tangy. Yet, despite the fact that you hated coffee just black, you found yourself pressing forward more ardently, desperate for his touch. He seemed to share the sentiment because he seemed just as fervent, just as eager, just as starving for you as you were for him.
Eventually, though, you pulled away, mind hazy like youâd just been deprived of oxygen for hours instead of just seconds.
He smiled down at you, his hand still against your cheek and your head cradled in his grasp. Instead of the confusion from earlier, his face was decorated with a look of absolute love. There wasnât a softer more handsome expression on his face than the adoration he had at that very moment.
You could only imagine what a mess you looked like, pressing yourself so eagerly against his hand, cheeks probably raging hot and red, eyes dazed as you looked up at him. Despite all of that, he just returned your look with his own look of warmth like there was nothing more beautiful than you.
 âYou really are the sweetest, arenât you?â
a/n: i cannot believe that i wrote more for red wine than i did for peking duck when??? peking duck is one of my favourites. anyway, have some duck daddy
warning: mentions of unhealthy relationships
word count: 1418
pairing: yandere! peking duck x gender neutral! master attendant! reader
summary: You fell in love with Peking Duck and, though he has his flaws, you can only continue loving him more and more
It surprised you how much you loved Peking Duck.
You arenât sure how it happened. When you first summoned him, he was accompanied by a small flock of his own little ducklings. Those same ducklings almost felt like they loved you as much as him which was endearing. It also helped that he was handsome and sweet in his own way.Â
He was always so kind, asking you how you were, making sure you were okay, taking care of you when you were beat down or tired. He didnât hesitate in listening to your problems or letting you in when he let out his own.
He had his odd moments and, certainly, he wasnât as warm towards the other food souls, but he was so caring to you. Though you had only known him for such a short time, you understood him and he understood you.Â
It felt like you had known him for years.
Maybe that was how it really started.
Then, two of you grew closer after that. You joined his little flock of children, all these ducklings plus you always trailing right behind him. When anybody went looking for you, they would always find you pressed against Peking Duckâs side, the two of you chatting calmly or taking a small nap. It was always so calming to just be with him.
Eventually, of course, love bloomed. It was so predictable, so expected, that you werenât really surprised when, one day, the realization hit you. Instead of the calm that usually blanketed you, looking at Peking Duck brought your heart aflutter.
There was still that calmness, that feeling of being able to be comfortable around him, but there was also an unexplainable happiness that bubbled and popped and squirmed inside of you.
It was also no surprise that he felt the same way. In fact, the real surprise wasnât that he loved you but how much he loved you.
You looked down at your ankle. The leather cuff wrapped around it was tight but the insides were lined with soft fur as if to prevent you from hurting yourself. You moved your ankle and the chains attached to it rattled loudly.
See, he loved you so much that he couldnât stand the thought of losing you. It wasnât that he didnât trust you but that he didnât trust everyone else.Â
He confided that a previous Master Attendant was taken away from him by people who only cared about themselves. He told you how he killed all of them, every single one, to avenge his Master Attendant, not to make sure that they couldnât do the same to someone else.
He told you that he couldnât care less about everyone else. The only things that mattered to him were the things he loved.
Now, the thing he loved the most was you. His love for you surpassed anything heâs ever loved before and you were his entire world. If he was willing to kill so many people for his previous Master Attendant, one could only guess how much of the world heâd be willing to burn for you.
What else were you supposed to do but melt? Someone like you, someone so starved of such affections, couldnât stand a chance against such tragic but honeyed words. You knew deep down that his obsession, his possessiveness, was supposed to be frowned upon but his touch was so soft and his eyes were so full of affection.
Love was love, even if it was something so dark and all-encompassing.
The door to the room creaked open and your head jolted up, eager to see who would enter. It was obvious who, though. He was the only one who was allowed to see you these days.
âDarling, youâre awake.â He smiled that soft calm smile of his, the ducklings spilling into the room as he opened the door wider.
You only nodded, hand lifting to rub at your eye. You have been awake but only for a little while. You donât know how long youâve been stuck with your thoughts. It felt like the days blurred together, one after the other, until you really couldnât recall how long youâve been in this room.
It was decorated for you, the colors your favorite colors, the bed fitted with the softest sheets and the fluffiest stuffed animals spread everywhere. There were books too, about fairytales and mysteries, things you could read in your now abundant spare time.
Peking Duck was usually with you. Sometimes he had to leave but you were never alone. He would leave some of the children with you or even all of them, just to keep you from being lonely in his absence.
He sat down in front of you and you automatically scooted closer, trying to be as close as possible. You wanted to blame it on your isolation, on the fact that he was the only person left that you could talk to. However, you knew, deep down, even before now, even before this imprisonment, you craved his touch like you craved your favorite dessert.
Peking Duckâs eyes bore into your own, his smile still soft but there was a darkness there. Still, you didnât move away when his hand cupped your cheek so tenderly âYou are the first one who has not fled after seeing my true colorsâŚâ
âI had expected you to put up more of a fight or perhaps even hate me but, look at you, leaning into my touchâŚâ He continued, thumb brushing against your skin as if savoring the warmth of your cheeks.
You just shyly looked away but you didnât stop yourself from placing a hand on top of his as if telling him not to let go. Your chest churned with something though if it was a positive feeling or not, you couldnât tell.
âWhat do you like about me? Why are you so attracted to someone so disgusting as I?â
You just bit your lip and nuzzled your face into his palm, your lips brushing against his skin. You wouldnât deny that he was something dark, bad. Maybe not disgusting but, certainly, something in that vein. Still, you loved him.
Your answer was meek âI donât knowâŚâ
He chuckled, deep and rich, before his free hand gripped your waist and pulled you closer, flush against his body, your chest pressed against his chest, your nose almost touching his âYou will surely answer.â
You racked your head, trying to sift through your blurry thoughts to give him the answer he sought. Slowly, you came to a simple conclusion âYou feel like home.â
He hummed, that soft smile replaced with a look of confusion. You decided to explain further âWhenever Iâm with you, it always feels like Iâm home, like I can be who I really am, like thereâs nobody else in the world who can understand me as much as you canâŚâ
âIâll be honest, I donât understand why you have to do this to me or what drives you to lock me up butâŚâ You hesitated. The words were right at the tip of your tongue and, as you looked to the food soul in front of you, you knew you had to say them but something made you hesitate.Â
Still, you spoke the words âI love you so much, Peking Duck⌠If you feel like you have to do this then, by all means, Iâll be your caged songbird.â
Like you had expected, this was the exact answer that Peking Duck had looked for. You knew the answer to be true but, even so, part of you was still scared he wouldnât believe you. Though, believe you or not, you were sure no matter your answer that he wouldâve just kept you in this room for eternity.
He told you himself. It didnât matter if you loved him or you hated him, as long as he could be with you, as long as he could protect you, nothing else mattered.
He leaned forward, his hand pulling your face forward as well. Soon, your lips touched. It was brief, a brush of lips and not truly a kiss. Still, it sent sparks down your spine.
He pressed his forehead against yours, that soft smile of his still on his face as he closed his eyes. He looked like he was trying to savor having you so close âYou are the only one who likes me and it doesnât matter. As long as itâs you... I can be happy.â
a/n: decided to make myself less confused by pairing up the prompts already and just rolling with it lmao. if you notice that some of the prompts donât match the list that whumptober put out, itâs becos i replaced them wth some of the alternatives that whumptober suggested. here are the prompt lists for whumptober and monstertober
a/n: wanted to do something for the new event reinhardt and this happened
warnings: none
pairing: soiree! reinhardt x gender neutral! summoner! reader
word count: 1614
summary: With your heart set on Berkut, you find yourself unable to enjoy the ball without him. Thankfully, Reinhardt comes to help.Â
You stood there, hands resting limply against your fancy robes, a sigh leaving your lips. You watched as everyone else danced along the ballroom, the chandelier lights flickering off of everyoneâs jewelry and the foils upon their clothes.
Everything looked beautiful and sparkling and fancy. You almost felt out of place; someone like you who felt more comfortable in a hooded cloak than in a formal outfit with hundreds of layers, someone who was smarter on the battlefield than on the ballroom floor, whose feet were graceful when avoiding attacks but not when following dance steps.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked, eyes curious, to see Reinhardt, hair slicked back and that familiar somewhat stoic smile on his face.
âOh, hello, Reinhardt, I see youâre not part of the festivities either.â You smiled almost weakly, shyly, as if trying to distract from the fact that the barrackâs own leading tactician hadnât moved an inch since their speech.
Reinhardt chuckled, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest âAs a matter of fact, I had just narrowly escaped Ishtarâs tight clutches.â
It was your turn to chuckle though your hand came up to cover your mouth âYes, I saw both of you twirling around earlier.â
Reinhardt seemed to let out a tired sigh which only made you chuckle even more. Though you loved Ishtar, the ball had brought out a new side of her personality. She was usually so kind and calm but, with the ball, she had been passionate and excited.
You couldnât blame her. The ball was probably the first sign of normality she had seen ever since she had been summoned. That was the point of the ball: a break from the war and bloodshed and battling.
âThere is a pressing question at hand, however.â Reinhardtâs hand left your shoulder to rest at his side âWhy is it that the planner of the ball isnât enjoying it?â
You were caught. There were no excuses to be given. You sighed, shaking your head and crossing your arms âIâm not⌠a good dancer⌠so, Iâd rather spare everyone else the sore toes.â
Reinhardtâs eyes didnât narrow but it felt like they did. Still, he kept the usual stoic smile on his face âYou donât have to lie to me, summoner. You and I both know I do not possess a proclivity to gossip.âÂ
Your eyes finally left Reinhardt as if trying to avoid the true answer to his question. Instead, your eyes trailed along the ballroom, to each and every dancing couple, until they landed on one in particular.
Yes, it was true that you didnât belong in this dazzling ballroom, full of dazzling people, but that wasnât truly the problem, was it? After all, you werenât the only soldier there who hadnât taken to the glittering limelight.Â
It wasnât as if you couldnât dance either. Rather, it felt like betrayal to dance with anyone else. It felt out of place.
There was only one person you wanted to dance with.
Unfortunately, he wasnât yours to dance with. Instead, he had someone else in his arms, had someone else he held close, held hands with, guided along as they practically glided across the floor.
Reinhardt followed your gaze and let out a small sound âI see.â
You flinched, your body stiffening as your cheeks warmed âIt-Itâs not! I-I mean!â
âIâm surprised since Berkut isnât quite the most charming unit in the barracks but I concede that he does treat you quite nicely, does he not, summoner?â Reinhardtâs tone went from rather even to something more teasing.
It was true. Berkut was rather easily irritable and, when it wasnât about his beloved Rinea, he couldnât even feign interest.
However, after a while of ordering him around as the head tactician of the army, he seemed to have warmed up to you and, because of that, your heart warmed up to him. It was hard not to love him when he acted so stony with everyone else and, yet, he deigned you special enough to lower his walls for.
Reinhardt suddenly took your hand âCome, letâs dance.â
You frowned, shaking your head âItâs not⌠I-I canâtâŚâ
âWhy not make him jealous? You look stunning tonight and this is your ball, is it not?â Reinhardt insisted, gently pulling you along. âIt would be a shame to wear such formal clothes when all you plan to do is stand next to the wall.âÂ
Then, after a thoughtful pause, the corners of Reinhardtâs mouth seemed to tilt up into a momentary smirk âThough I do admit, you would make exquisite decor. The vase of flowers we were standing beside pale in comparison to you.âÂ
Your cheeks, which had been warm, were now much hotter and you couldnât help but grow even more flustered as both you and Reinhardt took your places in the middle of the ballroom.
Since Reinhardt was much taller than you, it was obvious he would lead and he took the position without even hesitating. He placed your hand on his shoulder before letting his settle against your hip, his other hand taking yours âJust follow my lead.â
âThatâs easy for you to say.â You muttered, head bowing as you tried to watch his feet and mimic it with your own.
Reinhardtâs hand suddenly left yours and you automatically rested yours against his arm. Instead of resting his now free hand against your hip, however, he used it to cup your cheek and tilt your head up.
âDo you not know how rude it is to not look at your own partner?â He asked you, his voice devoid of accusation. Instead, he sounded teasing which, of course, felt out of place with Reinhardt who always seemed stoic and kind, not mischevious.
Apparently, tonight was the night to learn new things about one of your better warriors.
âI donât want to step on your feetâŚâ Though your head was tilted up to look at him, your eyes drifted away, too shy and embarrassed to really meet his gaze.Â
âI would not mind. If the price for dancing with such an alluring partner is a few stepped toes, it would be worth it.â Reinhardt just chuckled, the sound making his chest rumble against yours.Â
You had no clue he was so charming but, perhaps, that was why you were so flustered. You leaned closer almost unconsciously, eyes still pointedly looking away. He returned to holding your hand, his other hand pulling you much closer.
You couldnât say that you werenât used to such attention. Inigo and Soleil certainly kept you on your toes and, though it was much cheesier, Virion also managed to praise you to hell and back, babbling about your beauty or some other thing he loved about you.
So, it made no sense why Reinhardt, with his charming words, managed to make your heart pitter into an erratic rhythm. You blamed it on the champagne and the situation and left it at that.
âIt seems my plan has succeeded.â Reinhardt suddenly leaned down, his breath fanning against your neck and along your ear, making you shiver.
You were confused, however, and, momentarily, wondered if you missed something while your train of thought went awry âWhat plan?â
âDid you not hear me say, summoner? Was our plan not to illicit some jealousy?â Reinhardtâs tone was joking, teasing, but he still held you intimately close as if wanting to convince people of your familiarity.
âThough you cannot see since theyâre dancing behind you, Berkut seems to be keeping quite the keen eye on the both of us,â Reinhardt reported almost as if he were reporting a battle, something that wouldâve made you laugh if your heart werenât clogged in your throat.
Before you could really reply or even access how you felt, you were spun around. Peeking over Reinhardtâs shoulder, your eyes suddenly met Berkutâs own dark ones. There was a look on his face that you couldnât decipher.
Instead of really dwelling on the thought, you raised your hand from Reinhardtâs shoulder and waved, smile small and pleasant and shy.
It definitely took Berkut off guard but he gave a curt nod anyway, his cheeks seeming almost pink under the candlelight. You threw that thought off as just the lighting reflecting off his cheeks because, surely, you werenât anything to blush about.
âWell?â Reinhardt pulled you out of the staring contest you held with Berkut âDoes he seem sufficiently jealous?âÂ
You shook your head and tucked your face into Reinhardtâs neck âThereâs no way heâd be jealous of you for dancing with meâŚâ
âYouâd be surprised,â Reinhardt replied just as easily, talking as if he were conversing about the weather rather than your unrequited romance âI would find myself jealous if I found you in another manâs arms.â
Your head jerked up in surprise but, instead of really addressing your reaction, Reinhardt pressed his forehead against yours and the two of you continued dancing. You hadnât even realized that you hadnât glanced at your feet in a while.
âYou⌠truly mean that?â You wanted to look away from Reinhardtâs gaze but, instead, you couldnât find it in yourself to break the stare. How had you not noticed how handsome he was?
His answer was simple âWhy would I lie to you, summoner?âÂ
All too quickly, the music came to a stop and he pulled away but not before bowing and pressing a kiss against your knuckles. You blushed and bowed as well, already missing his embrace but not understanding exactly why.
All you could think about was the fact that Berkut was now completely off of your mind.
I wanted to find a monster-centered prompt list for monstertober so I looked it up and found @huntydraws old monstertober list and decided to go with that! Credit to @huntydraws for the prompts! They're also huntydraws on twitter! I'll post it here so y'all know what I'm gunna be writing.
And so does Whumptober 2019! Feast your eyes on this yearâs gut-wrenchingly glorious Prompt List, and get inspired to create some killer content starting October 1st. There are some changes to the tagging system from last year, so be sure to give the attached Event information a read! If after reading you still have questions, feel free to send an ask to @whumptober2019â or reach out to the event creator, @la-vie-en-whumpâ !
We hope youâre as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
-Kat
The official Prompt List, Event information, and FAQs are all transcribed below the cut.
These prompts can be used as replacements for any of the official Whumptober 2019 prompts. As such, alternative work can be posted on the day of the prompt they are replacing, but under the alternative prompt tag (see below for examples).
The purpose of this alternative list is to help make completion (producing work for 31 total prompts) more accessible to those with triggers and squicks. These prompts can also be used in addition to the original list, in case folks find them generally inspiring. Â
They are available to everyone, and they should be tagged as:
#altno.1 #wake up
#altno.2 #broken voice
âŚetc.
Prompts listed below the cut. Still have a question? Send us an ask!
a/n: for whumptober 2019: shaky hands and monstertober 2019: demon
warning: mentions of religious themes and occult, implied unhealthy relationships, implied touch starvation
pairing: beelzebub the demon x gender neutral! reader
word count: 2113
summary: Who knew someone could get so lonely that theyâd be desperate enough to summon a friend?
âNow, darling, why are you so⌠nervous?âÂ
You took a step back, your foot unsteady as it settled against the creaking of the floorboards. Your eyes frantically flickered here and there, trying to find a way to escape or, perhaps, for an object to use.
There was nothing.
In this empty attic filled with only dust and stray boxes, you couldnât find an exit or a weapon. The only way out was the trap door with the ladder but that was behind it and you wouldnât be able to duck and maneuver yourself over there.
No, you were trapped and it was all your fault.
You had thought so foolishly that you could play with the books you had found in this musty attic. They were all dumb occult things with hard covers carved with occult symbols, pages lined with gold and paper heavy and expensive.Â
You had doubted, at first. Blasphemy and demons werenât the kinds of things your family members were interested in so you couldnât help but wonder where these books had come from. Maybe the previous owner of the house? It was a mystery for sure.
You thought nothing of it and read, filling your head with what you had thought were fictional stories or the ravings of a mad lunatic. The books were all about summonings and different demons, about their different hierarchies and their different legends, what they did in the mortal realm, what they were known for.Â
It was interesting if not mildly gory. It was the kind of horror that you couldnât help but continue reading even though you were scared shitless; the kind of horror that made you stay up at night, wondering if the shapes you were making out in the dark were really just your imagination.
Soon, the books held you in a sort of trance. Your curiosity had peaked and, suddenly, your thoughts of âSurely, these couldnât be legit?â turned into âBut⌠what if it was?â.Â
Though the thought of them being real wouldâve been absolutely macabre, you still couldnât help but wonder. You had researched certain things in the books and found allusions of them in the Bible as well as other holy texts and history books about the church.
Certainly, if the book was pure fiction, the author was well-read or, at least, researched the topics thoroughly.
Eventually, you found yourself lonely.
You had never been close to your family, not really, so it wasnât a surprise that you kept drifting away from them. You had always been an introvert and shy so your ideal day was just locked up in your room. It was easy to drift away from people when you rarely saw them outside of maybe dinner and lunch.
There werenât any friends in the picture, either. You had never been very good with socializing so, other than classmates that you barely spoke to when unprompted, the only human contact you really had were on screens, in TV shows and movies.
You had always been a fan of fantasy and, after Supernatural and god-knows-what other demon/angel shows, the thought of summoning a friend met with your endless curiosity for the books. If they were real, undoubtedly, you could summon one.
Summon a demon.
It shouldâve hit you how dumb that was. Selling your soul for a friend was just about the most desperate thing in the world and were you desperate? Were you that lonely? Did you really crave the touch of another thing so much that youâd be willing to do a stupid (probably hokey) ritual?Â
The answer was, obviously, yes.
Still, despite your desperation, you still strongly believed that the books were just a fabrication of someoneâs imagination, just an exaggeration of religion and what little information it gave on demons and Hell. There was just no way the books were about something real.
So, you went straight to the top. You thought âMight as well since it wasnât even going to workâ. You couldnât summon the leader of Hell itself, of course, so you went one step lower: Beelzebub, the Lord of the Flies himself.Â
It was surprisingly easy to collect the materials because the book was just so vague. Just blood, never about where it's from. Just a sacrifice, never about if it was alive or not. Just candles, a room, symbols to be painted and carved.Â
It was too easy.
âWhat? Didnât you⌠want to see me?â It continued to speak, pulling you out of your thoughts and making your eyes snap away from your surroundings and to the being in front of you.
As it spoke, its mouth forming the words, its lips lush and its teeth sharp, you couldnât help but notice that its voice was velvet and smooth too. You were smart enough not to fall for things like that, though. You knew all too well that the thing in front of you was made to be perfect.
Well, perfect in a sense. No matter how much it tried to make itself beautiful, to lull you into a sense of false security, there was still something so off about it.
The demon looked like any other man, its build stocky but obviously muscular. Its body was naked, smeared here and there with blood but you couldnât focus on that out of fear. Either way, it was a normal, very male, body. Its arms ended in normal unclawed fingers, its hair mussed to look effortless but still handsome. Its smile almost seemed genuine, too.
It didnât matter. There was something about its eyes, something so cold, so lifeless and dead despite the brilliant blue hue. Its smile, though disguised as genuine, was sharp, almost predatory, like a wolf trying to convince a rabbit not to run.
In this scenario, you were, unfortunately, the rabbit.
It stepped closer âYou donât have to tell me what you want. I know what you want and Iâll give it to you, free of charge.â
You shook your head, taking another shaky step back. There was no way itâd give you what you wanted for free. After all, the book had warned you. Demons never did anything for free. No matter what it was, no matter how little the request, they always took something as payment.
âOkay, youâre right, sweet thing, there is something I want in exchange.â It grinned wider, taking another step closer âTrust me, though, it aligns with what you want so, really itâs not payment at all.â
You couldnât find your voice. Instead, you continued to stare, frantic at the thought that it was reading your mind. You hadnât said anything since it had crawled out of the bloody portal you had painted onto the floor so the fact that it had just countered a thought in your head made you scared.Â
The demon chuckled, its laugh rumbling and deep and almost sinful the way it sent a tingle down your spine âDonât be scared, darling. The mind-reading thing is just a side effect of the summoning. Weâre tied together now, you and me.â
You took another step back and he took two steps forward âYou can block your thoughts, donât worry. Iâll teach you how or those silly little books will tell you.â
You didnât like how it implied that it would be staying.
âOf course Iâd be staying. Youâve summoned me and Iâm here to make yourâŚâ It chuckled again though, this time, it felt more like it was in on a joke you werenât a part of â...wish come true.â
You shook your head, trying your hardest to force words out of your throat, except, your mind jumbled and you couldnât get anything out.Â
You didnât want to say anything just in case it was the wrong thing to say. One misconstrued word could lead to a decapitated head or your soul sucked right out of you. It was a demon, something from Hell, with supernatural powers that would put fictional demons to shame.
As a result, you didnât think itâd have any qualms with torturing you if you had happened to offend it. As one of the Princes of Hell, it had surely seen its fair share of slaughter and carnage. You had even read that it would often incite wars and bring men to murder.
If it could do that without even a shred of pity or sympathy, if it could see blood shed and families torn apart and men killed for nothing, it could surely crush you under the heel of its foot without hesitation.
So, you struggled, throat constricting so tightly that nothing could come out. You wanted to tell him to leave, that you hadnât thought your actions through, that you didnât want to be fooled by a demon because you were so vulnerable. Yet, the words wouldnât leave your mouth.
You tried harder, mouth stuttering, words stumbling over your lips into something incomprehensible. Your eyes watered as you continued to struggle.
You were scared of him. Of course, you were.Â
It could kill you, end your life, yes, that was true. That wasnât what you were scared of, though. Dying wasnât something you feared and, instead, you welcomed it. There were things worse than death, after all, and, now that youâve summoned him, you knew of them, have read them from those cursed books.Â
An eternity in Hell, tortured by your worst nightmares, would scare anyone.
And, maybe, that wasnât the only thing you were scared of. Maybe the reason you were so scared of other people, of reaching out and befriending and building relationships, was also the same reason you were scared of it.Â
A rough hand pressed against your skin, fingers encircling your upper arm. Your struggle died abruptly and your vision cleared to see that it had taken several steps towards you and that it stood there, only one step away.
The coldness in its eyes gave way to something indecipherable.
âDarling, I wonât hurt you.â The demonâs voice was still smooth, still velveteen, but the seductive tone in it was replaced with something soft and comforting âI promise, I swear, I wonât.â
You knew a promise from a demon was something of an unbreakable vow so you nodded to show you believed It.
It let go of your arm and, suddenly, you craved its touch like some sort of starving man. It had been so long since you had felt a hand so calloused but soft and a touch so strange but gentle.Â
Instead of completely pulling away, though, it took another step forward and its chest pressed against yours, its skin pressing against the cloth of your t-shirt. It reached down and took your hands.
You hadnât even noticed that your hands had been shaking. Now, as it held them so loosely in its own, you noticed every tremble of your fingertips and every quake of your palm.
It held your hands tighter, fingers interlocking with yours. It pressed itself closer, the pressure of its chest against yours heavier. It felt warm, almost inhumanly so, but you leaned in anyway, your skin yearning for more touch, more contact, more warmth.
It let go of your hand, wrapping its arm around your waist to pull you closer. It leaned forward, allowing you to curl up against it, face pressed into its neck. You wrapped an arm around its neck to pull it even closer. There was a soft rumble as if you were cuddling with a giant cat instead of a murderous demon.
âI told you, I can make your wishes come true.â The demon whispered temptations against your ear, its breath just as inhumanly warm as its body âI can make the loneliness go away.â
You bit back a whimper, knowing that your desperation would make any price feel like a bargain and it continued, its arm tightening even more âAll I want in return is you; all of you, every single part of you, dedicated to me.â
âSay it. Say my name, say youâre mine.â
Your grip on its hand tightened and your arm around its neck pulled it closer. You mumbled the words as if shy and scared which, really, you were âB-Be-Beelzebub⌠I-Iâm yours.âÂ
âAnd stop referring to me in your head like Iâm an inanimate object. Anything else will do but Iâm not an it or a thing.â It-- He-- They chuckled and you could feel the vibrations of it against your chest âIâm yours and youâre mine.â
Your nod sealed the deal and you burrowed yourself deeper into its arms. The searing pain on your back confirmed it: you were branded as theirs and you would be for god-knows-how long.Â
a/n: red wineâs backstory is kinda sad⌠i wanted to do something with one of my main food souls and his quotes on the wiki inspired this monstrosity
warning: detailed mentions of blood and blood-drinking, slight violence?
word count: 2754
pairing: red wine x gender neutral! reader
summary: Youâve always thought Red Wine was kinda weird but you didnât realize how weird until now
It had been such a minor thing to you. You hadnât realized that it wouldâve been such a big deal to everyone else but, to you, it was just a scrape.
You had accompanied a team of your food souls to go gather ingredients. You never liked having them gather by themselves. Sure, you believed them capable enough to fend for themselves but you still worried about them. To you, it was better to be at the scene of a disaster than being back at the restaurant, unable to do anything.
The only downside to accompanying your food souls was that you were just as susceptible as them to being attacked.
The fallen angel had snuck up behind your group. In all of the times youâve ventured out to gather ingredients, not one fallen angel had been smart enough to plan a sneak attack. At least, not one until then.
It had grabbed your wrist and, with its sharp claws, it dug into your skin, drawing blood. You had screamed so loud from the pain. Thankfully, your food souls made quick work of the fallen angel before anything worse could happen.
You claimed that you were fine, that the injury just throbbed and that was it, but the group insisted on turning back and leaving. They had patched up your injury and would make sure to drop you off at the restaurant so you rest your wrist.
Steak seemed the most concerned out of everyone but, for you, that wasnât a surprise. Steak had always been a worrywart.
âYou⌠that injuryâŚâ He struggled with his words, eyebrows furrowed.
You shook your head, waving off his concern. The wound was wrapped and the bleeding slowed to a trickle. You didnât think it was worth worrying about so that was what you told him. âItâs fine, donât worry about it.â
Of course, he didnât listen. His main concern didnât seem to be your injury, though. Yes, he was worried you were in pain or perhaps that the wound would scar but, more importantly, he worried about the bleeding.Â
He kept asking questions as the group traveled back, things like âHas it stopped bleeding?â and âHas the blood soaked through your bandage?â. He was so obsessed with it that it concerned you.
âAre you okay, Steak? Iâm telling you the wound is fine but you keep asking about itâŚâ You tried your best to sound lighthearted and on the jokier side but the frown on his face only deepened as your group neared the restaurant.
âLook just.â His face hardened like his stomach was upset or he felt constipated, his face crumpling as he stared down at you âAvoid Red Wine, okay?â
You were about to laugh it off since the two of them had always had that kind of relationship but, suddenly, when Steak gripped your uninjured wrist, you were forced to listen. âIâm serious, okay? You need to avoid him.âÂ
Slowly, you nodded âWhy? Whatâs wrong?â
You guessed that it had something to do with your injury but you couldnât connect the dots. Was it because Steak didnât want Red Wine hovering over you again? The food soul had a habit of mother henning you so it wouldnât have been a surprise if Red Wine fretted over the injury twice as much as Steak currently was.Â
For all the times that Red WIne claimed you were his servant, he certainly worried over you much more than any normal master would. It was endearing and sweet but also very overbearing.Â
Steak didnât exactly like being around Red Wine but he loved being around you. If Red Wine decided to glue himself to your hip because of your injury, it meant that Steak couldnât because, if he did, the two would start fighting and jeering at each other all over again.
So, that made sense.
Still, that didnât sound right. You knew that, as soon as you were dropped off at the restaurant, the group was going back out. The fallen angel had gotten to you right at the beginning of your groupâs journey so your group hadnât had the opportunity to collect anything.
Steak wouldnât be around you so he had no reason to worry about Red Wine being around you.
It wasnât as if Steak was jealous either. Though Steak had his more possessive tendencies, he never had a problem with other food souls hanging around you as long as it didnât take you away from him for too long.
Steak himself seemed hesitant to answer your question. He looked conflicted and slightly angry. Before he could even get a word out, the restaurant was in front of you and you had to bid them goodbye.
This was the first time theyâve gone out to gather ingredients without you and you couldnât help but worry. Your worry was even doubled by Steak and his cautionary words.
Why would he say something like that? You continued to try and make sense of the situation as you walked to your office, your feet carrying you down familiar hallways but, before you could process your thoughts or even get to your destination, you ran face-first into a firm chest. You hadnât been paying attention so it was no surprise you were out there, fumbling about.
When you looked up, your heart leapt into your chest âRed Wine!â
Just your luck. You managed to run into the one food soul Steak had warned you about. Sure, part of you didnât want to take his words seriously but you had been planning to avoid Red Wine anyway just in case.
You took a cautionary step back, your hands automatically moving to rest behind you. You gripped your injured wrist as if hoping, perhaps, that, if you squeezed hard enough, you could magically compress your torn skin together and repair the injury. Or, perhaps, that, maybe, you could hide it just like that.
âWhatâs the matter?â Red Wine seemed to sense that something was wrong and, in fairness, he was right. Something was off.
âIt feels like only minutes ago, I had seen the group off. Yet, I hear, they returned to send you back to the restaurant.â He continued when you didnât provide an answer, his slender eyebrow rising âDid something happen?â Â
You were at a crossroads. On one side, you trusted Red Wine with your life. He had never hurt you in the entire time youâve known him and, though he made fun of Steak for his blinding loyalty, you knew for a fact that he held that same loyalty towards you. On the other side, you knew Steak wouldnât warn you for no reason.
âThere was⌠a complication, I guess.â You finally answered meekly, barely grasping at the words as they left your mouth. You attempted to be as vague as possible and to throw Red Wine off with a wide grin.Â
It seemed your attempt did the exact opposite of what you had hoped because Red Wine quickly grew even more suspicious.Â
âWhat are you hiding behind your back?â Red Wine grasped at your upper arm, his grip firm but gentle.
In an attempt to continue hiding your injury, your hand wrapped tighter around your bleeding wrist as if to prevent Red Wine from prying your arm forward. You only succeeded in making yourself wince which, of course, worried Red Wine even more.
You wished he wasnât so nosy.
Eventually, you were forced to let go of your wrist. Not only did it hurt, squeezing it so tightly, but it also made you feel bad. You didnât like hiding things from your closest food souls and Red Wine was as close as they got.
When he spotted your hand, it had started bleeding all over again and your blood had managed to trickle down the palm of your hand to the tips of your finger. It was all a bloody mess and you cursed at yourself for causing it.
âWhy is your finger bleeding?â Was his initial reaction but, then, when he tugged your hand closer, he realized that the bleeding was much more severe and that it had originated from your wrist.
He dropped your arm like it burnt him and you looked at him, concerned âRed Wine?â
The food soul said nothing, at first, only just staggering back as if he had been sucker-punched in the gut. When you tried to follow after him, he held his hand out âDon't⌠donât come too close to me.â
âRed Wine?â You repeated, this time sounding more concerned and confused. Did he have a problem with blood? But, you couldnât believe that when he was a fighter and he often didnât hesitate before slashing through fallen angels.
After a tense silence between you two, Red Wine stabilized himself before looking at you almost pitifully. In one swift motion, he pulled you into the closest room, closing the door behind you. Surprisingly, the room ended up being your office.
Your destination had been so close and, yet, you had been foiled.
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, though, and you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong but all that came out was a gasp.
Red Wine had suddenly taken your arm and yanked you forward, closer than ever before. His other hand unwrapped your injury carefully and, once the dirty bandage had been dropped to the floor, he let out a guttural sound.
You frowned and he took your uninjured hand into his free one, lacing your fingers together âIf only my convictions were strongerâŚâ
You didnât even try to tug either of your hands back since, though his actions were weird, you knew he wouldnât dare hurt you. Still, you were thoroughly freaked out âWhat do you mean, Red Wine? Whatâs going on with you?âÂ
Instead of answering, his mouth opened and his tongue darted out to lap at your blood. His warm slick tongue running over your skin, chasing after every drop of blood, sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyebrows furrowed and you tried to tug your hand back but he kept it in that same firm but gentle grip.
After cleaning the blood from your palm, he pressed it against his cheek, nuzzling his face into it âOh⌠your blood⌠smells good⌠tastes so divineâŚâ
Suddenly, you put two and two together.Â
You had always thought that it was just Red Wineâs eccentric aesthetic. I mean, if you had been born with red eyes and sharp fangs, you wouldâve adopted the gothic look too. You just assumed that Red Wine took it a step further by pretending to be bothered by garlic and sunlight.
However, you were rethinking that theory.
Before you could really concentrate on that thought, Red Wineâs mouth had traveled further down, his lips closing in on the main part of your injury. You hissed, your injured hand clenching into a fist and your other one gripping onto his tighter.
He didnât pay your reaction any mind and, instead, continued, his tongue careful around your ripped flesh and his adamâs apple bobbing as he lapped at the abundant flow of blood. His fangs scraped at the edges of your injury, sharp but pressed against your skin so that they didnât pierce.
It was almost fascinating in a rather morbid way. It felt like the longer he licked at you, the more blood escaped. Some of it had even managed to trickle down your arm, red and glistening and warm.
You tried not to think about it too much.
As if noticing the stray blood, Red Wine started to follow it with his tongue, his mouth still so warm against your skin. You tried to lean away but it was all in vain. You couldnât get away, not when he had you thoroughly in his grasp.
âRed WineâŚâ You whispered out when he finally pulled his mouth away, his face mere inches from yours, both of your noses almost touching.
Your cheeks were red, you suddenly realized. At least, you assumed they were from the fact that your face felt hot.Â
The dazed look in Red Wineâs eyes seemed to almost immediately vanish and he stuttered out your name, as if suddenly realizing what he had done. âI-Iâmâ! Iâm so sorry! To think that Iâ! That I could do something so shamefulâ!â
Before he could leave, your hand gripped his tighter, your head shaking âRed Wine, wait, we have to⌠talk about thisâŚâ
He looked like he bit back a groan as if the idea of talking about such an embarrassing thing was the worst. You agreed but you loved him and you didnât want this kind of thing to get in between the two of you.
âSo⌠vampire, Iâm guessing?â You decided to just come out with it, eyes staring into his and your grip on his hand tight as if you were scared heâd run away.
Red Wine certainly looked like he wanted to and he made that clear by the way he avoided your stare âYes, though I tend to try and avoid giving in to such temptationsâŚâ
âI know another food soul and he⌠he lets his bloodlust through, lets it consume him⌠IâŚâ Red Wine looked like he was struggling and his words left his lips in great pauses so, of course, you waited patiently, expression on your face encouraging.
He seemed to see that because he took a deep breath and then continued once again âI donât want to be a monster like him, someone who lives in darkness and does such terrible things to other people.â
âItâs just hard when itâs youâŚâ He elaborated as if to explain his lapse in judgment. âWhen you smell so⌠delectable⌠and when you look soâŚâ
You just nodded, cheeks ablaze, before pulling your injured arm back and hiding it behind you. The way Red Wine spoke, it was like he hated himself for giving in and you didnât want to tempt him any further.
He slumped a little as if you hiding your hand was equivalent to a rejection. Instead, you pulled him closer, letting his hand go so that your now free arm could wrap around his chest âItâs fine.â
âItâs okay. I didnât mind, thatâs for sure. It didnât hurt.â You spoke softly as if scared to spook him âWeâll⌠talk about it⌠If you need blood, if thatâs why, I mean⌠itâs okay?â
âNo.â Red Wine shook his head but at least he didnât seem as desperate to leave. Instead, his arms wrapped around you and his chin rested on top of your head âYou may be my servant but⌠the last thing I want is to drain you dryâŚâ
âItâs such a tempting offer but I do not⌠I do not want to go overstep any boundaries and lose you.â His arms tightened around you at the mention, like he was scared youâd disappear.
You just shook your head, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. How Red WIne was acting now was such a far cry from how he had acted when you first summoned him.
He had been haughty when the two of you had first met and he often referred to you as his servant when you were his Master Attendant. You indulged him, of course, because you thought his theatrics were entertaining and endearing.Â
Now, he was so ready to be vulnerable with you, to share secrets with you. Before, he had always been so desperate to cover up flaws, to insist he was some invincible food soul that never needed to rest (though he certainly made excuses to be left behind).Â
It was nice to know that he trusted you enough to stop pretending.
âYou know I wouldnât let you.â You tried to even your tone, hoping you didnât come off too jokingly because youâd been serious.
Then, you let out the three words you had held back all this time âI love you.â
He buried his face into your hair and said nothing but you knew him well enough that you had your answer even without his words so you continued âI love you, vampire and all, even with your ego and your endless list of needs and⌠I love you.â
Red Wine continued to say nothing but his arms tightened around you even more as if scared you were just a dream. You returned his embrace, holding back a laugh.
