goono’clovklads

— Jade x Reader

“Since I met you, I’ve felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all I ever dream of, the only thing.”

— Franz Kafka

Jade is going crazy

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It first starts off as a sticky spore on the forest floor, idle and inconspicuous within it’s time of life, patiently waiting as the nature around it continues on in its daily cycle.

But once a victim comes along (a carpenter ant, crawling through dense foliage unsuspecting of what awaits it) the spore attaches itself on to it’s victim, germinating infective threadlike strands, breaching the unfortunate insect’s exoskeleton, reaching deep until the carpenter ant is completely within it’s hold, it’s mind no longer it’s own.

—

To say that Jade was smitten would be an understatement of the century.

He wasn’t just smitten, no, he was infatuated.

Obsessed.

What was suppose to be a passing interest—warped into something more internal, invisible roots that spread, infusing itself within his muscles.

Jade prides himself in his caution. Always keeping his expression in check, his true intention shrouded, and always watching, keeping an eye out for anything that catches his attention.

And you did.

Rational slips from Jade whenever he’s within your reach, basking in your warmth and embracing himself within the humidity of your essence.

Surely, you must’ve casted some sort of spell on him. A twisted, all consuming spell that has him wrapped around your finger (something that he didn’t mind at all).

Are you aware of how much you consume Jade’s mind, digesting any sense of preservation he had for himself, losing his mind completely to the thought of you, a maddening descend that only leads him deeper and deeper, morphing him into a mindless devotee that’s at your every beck and call.

Jade concludes that you don’t—completely oblivious to the effect that you have on his body.

But that’s fine, Jade is patient.

He can hide the fact that whenever you speak, it puts him in a quiet lull, completely hypnotized by each sentence that leaves your mouth.

That whenever you smile he wants to be blinded by its radiance, unable to see—with your smile being the last image etched into his mind.

And whenever you touch—gentle hands ever so softly grazing at the fabric of his uniform, he wants to morph into your skin and become one.

Jade can wait. He can wait until the time is perfect, and once it is he’ll give his everything to you.

Mind.

Body.

Soul.

—

After the carpenter ant dies, the fungus finishes digesting the cadaver from inside out, releasing a stalk from the base of the carpenter ant’s head. The stalk then releases spores, each and every spore falling back down onto the forest floor— continuing the cycle.

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— Rook x Reader

Je vous souhaite d’être follement aimée.

— “My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness.”

You want Rooks blood. Rook wants you.

(Slight tw(?): injury, blood, blood consumption, Rook.)

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Hunger had always been a part of your being—an animalistic itch to satisfy a core survival need.

Hunger was what made you up entirely, and you hated it.

It was uncomfortable, annoying—especially since you were in a position where you had to work for your food rather than having it handed to you on a silver platter.

Sometimes a hunt would be successful.

Other times, it wasn’t…

Just like right now.

A nasty wound on your side lay open wide for the world to see, your still-cold blood exposed. Silent curses left your lips as you weaved your way through the dark trees.

Tonight had to be the worst night ever.

Honestly, it was a grave consequence for trying to hunt in a town—hunger and hubris getting the better of you, resulting in this. Angry mobs chased after your fleeting form, leaving you scratched up and wounded.

Can’t a poor ol’ vampire eat around here?

Apparently not.

Heavy footsteps came to a gradual halt as you stopped running. A tired groan left your lips as you slumped against a nearby tree.

For a moment, you could finally breathe.

No shrieking voices of fearful, angry humans driving you away from their settlement. Just you and that annoying, familiar sense of hunger.

This really sucked.

You sighed and let your eyes fall shut. A moment of reprieve settled in as darkness swallowed your sight.

No shouts of angry humans.

No roaring flames threatening to mark your skin.

Just the soft sound of wind passing through—and silence.

…

“Oh là là, what do we have here?”

You jumped at the sudden voice beside you, adrenaline rushing through you as you turned quickly to face the unknown speaker.

Tall, blond, dressed in dark clothes—and awfully amused.

Your gaze flickered over his form, lips shifting into a disgruntled frown as you noticed a familiar silver cross hanging from his neck. First the angry mob, now a vampire hunter? Ugh—could this night get any worse?

Green eyes stared directly at you, their intensity causing you to instinctively bare your teeth.

But the action didn’t seem to do much—the only reaction you got was a chuckle.

“Non, non, non—do not bare your magnifique fangs at me.”

The smirk on his face shifted into a bright smile.

“I shall help you!”

Radiant in every way, he shone like the cursed sun—filled with such vitality that it could only be labeled as human. You visibly winced at his presence.

For a moment, you stared at him blankly.

Was… was he being serious?

Your lips closed as your dark eyes narrowed at the strange man’s form, confusion and wariness bubbling within.

The word help sounded foreign to your ears—like a triangle trying to fit into a circular tomb, each sharp point forced down until its shape became disfigured mush.

“Help” tasted bitter.

“I don’t need help with anything.”

You hissed back, brows furrowed as you straightened your posture, hands flexed and ready for an attack.

A twist in your stomach resurfaced—though it wasn’t the usual hunger pang. No, it was the feeling of being cornered.

A predator like you had now become prey—an ugly, primal feeling that felt worse than hunger.

His smile never wavered as he observed your tense form, sending a shiver down your spine. He leaned against a nearby tree, seemingly at ease despite the visible threat you exuded.

“Ah, but it seems to me that you do require assistance.”

He chuckled softly, raising a hand to point at your injured side.

“Your condition is quite severe. You wouldn’t want to bleed out in the middle of the forest, now would you?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you scrutinized him, distrust evident in your expression.

It was clear there was a motive behind his actions—one that hadn’t been made clear to you.

Which irked you.

Hunting weapons glistened under the pale moonlight. It wasn’t every day that a vampire hunter offered a vampire assistance.

(Actually… this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.)

With a click of your tongue, you stared at him, body still rigid with uncertainty.

“What do you want in return?”

A reckless question, yes. It was this sort of carelessness that caused many to die—a sight you had seen before.

But unfortunately for you, you were desperate, and for a moment, you decided to throw away your pride.

A small, amused smirk tugged at the corners of the man’s lips as he noticed the wariness in your gaze.

“A fair question.”

He pushed himself off the tree, his eyes never leaving you as he took a few steps closer.

“You see, I have a certain… interest in you.”

He paused, tilting his head as his gaze roamed over your features, taking in every detail.

“In exchange for my assistance, I only ask for one thing.”

His smile widened as he stepped closer, now standing just an arm’s length away.

“Allow me to observe you. It is my only request.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he extended a hand toward your injured side—hovering just above it.

Your gaze flickered downward, and you stiffened before swatting his hand away. His grin only widened, amusement and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

He didn’t back away. Instead, he remained close, his gaze never leaving yours—which only deepened your irritation.

You grumbled silently.

What a strange human. If you were in any better condition, you would’ve killed him where he stood.

A disgruntled huff left your lips as you frowned, begrudgingly accepting that you were going to agree.

“Fine.”

A moment of silence passed before you continued.

“But I’ll have you know—vampires don’t heal in the traditional sense. Your human medicine won’t do anything for me.”

He hummed in acknowledgment—almost sounding intrigued, though you ignored the notion.

A dark glint shone in your eyes as you grinned, challenging.

“What I need… is blood.”

Curiosity bloomed within you. Would this vampire hunter back away and let his human instincts take over—or would he stay, knowing the price?

You waited, tilting your head.

“Do you still want to help?”

His smirk softened into a genuine smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Of course, mon ami.”

His tone was casual, almost playful—far too amused for your liking.

“Help is what I offered, and help is what I shall provide.”

He extended his hand again, gentler this time.

“Although, you did say you require blood, yes?”

You shifted your attention to his hand before slowly reaching out and taking it.

“Yeah…”

Warmth seeped through the fabric of his glove, the closeness making your teeth ache.

Strange as it was, this was an opportunity you couldn’t ignore. Passing up a free meal would be idiotic.

You glanced at his face, then back to his arm as you pulled up his sleeve.

Smooth, unblemished skin—like fresh snow waiting to be trampled.

You swallowed.

This felt easy.

Way too easy…

Your throat tightened as you leaned down, fangs extending before sinking into his forearm. Warmth spread across your lips.

Oh well. No time to question it now.

For now, you would simply enjoy it.

—

Rook was happy.

To be close to a voracious creature like you was quite thrilling, straying from his usual habit of finding and hunting. He’d met many vampires before, but none of them were quite as enchanting as you.

Watching from the tree line, Rook observed your hunt—that had promptly gone astray.

Fires roared with fury, and hurried footsteps moved to drive away the danger that threatened their town. Rook watched as you ran, tracking your steps with precision before coming to a halt—drinking in the sight of you pausing, naively thinking you were out of harm’s way and resting for a moment.

Rook could kill you. He should kill you, but you were simply too charming to end—especially after that display of vigorous escape.

Ah, the satisfaction he felt upon hearing your agreement. Backed into a corner with only the instinct to survive, how your eyes flashed with anger—your vampiric pride undeniable. But the way your hands twitched, the way you suppressed your fangs in contemplation—like an injured wolf cub.

Rook simply couldn’t let go.

So here he was, arms exposed for consumption, allowing his vitality to be taken.

A cold shiver ran down Rook’s spine, a low sound escaping his lips as the sharp pain of your bite spread—quickly morphing into something more euphoric. His body thrummed with anticipation, the rush causing his heart to race wildly.

What a sight for Rook—your lips stained with the vermilion of blood, his blood.

“Ah… you truly are a creature of beauty.”

Reverence could be heard in Rook’s voice, soft and barely above a whisper

(which caused your brows to twitch downward. For you, he seemed far too into this for your liking…).

“Your fangs, your eyes, your presence… all so captivating.”

He could feel his arm going cold, the warmth of his blood seeping out of the wound, staining his once unblemished skin with a glistening red.

With your hunger subsiding, you retracted your fangs—pulling away from his arm and licking away any lingering blood that clung to your lips. You loosened your grip, finally letting go and wiping away what remained with the back of your hand.

Face slightly flushed, ragged breath evening out, Rook silently observed your movements. His gaze lingered on the blood on your lips before drifting down to his arm.

It ached, the bite mark throbbing softly with each beat of his heart. But for Rook, the pain was secondary to the sensation coursing through his body. He flexed his fingers, studying the puncture wound, tracing the indent with curiosity.

Rook lifted his gaze, green eyes finding yours.

“Je dois dire que I expected the process to be more… unpleasant.”

Despite the blood staining his arm and the pain surely coursing through it, his expression remained one of awe, clear fascination on his features—which made you cringe.

“Your fangs… par les cieux, ils sont magnifiques!”

Like a moth to a flame, Rook stepped closer—almost as if subconsciously drawn to you, but you stepped back.

Befuddled to the core, you couldn’t help but wince at his words, so reverent to the point they were tooth-rottingly sweet. Absolutely disgusting.

A scoff escaped your lips as you straightened your posture, silently sneering at the strange man in front of you (though, as usual, the sneer didn’t faze him).

“You are a stupid human.”

Rook chuckled, a gleam shining in his gaze as he took another step closer.

“Perhaps I am. But can you blame me for admiring your fangs?”

Reaching out, his fingers hovered just above the puncture marks on his arm, tracing the wound with a feather-like touch, admiring it in every sense.

“So sharp and elegant… truly a work of art.”

The way he spoke was soft, low, and intimate—almost as if he were speaking about some treasured possession, and not your literal bite mark.

Rook’s expression remained unchanged, his attention flickering back to your tense form with the same fascination he’d had since the very beginning.

“I never knew a vampire’s fang could be so alluring.”

That’s when you knew…

This man was batshit crazy!

And with that, you prepared your exit—being around this oddity was starting to become insufferable.

“I’m done with your nonsense.”

Rook, sensing your intention to flee, quickly took hold of your wrist, the surprising precision stopping you in your tracks.

“Now, now! Where do you think you’re going?”

He chided, his grip on your wrist gentle but firm.

“We’re not done yet, mon ami.”

Despite the casualness in his tone, there was a clear underlying message. Rook had just gotten a taste of nirvana—he wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

He pulled you close; even after having his blood drawn, there was still strength in his body.

“Ah… je ne me lasse toujours pas de toi. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

You gritted your teeth, baring them—though to your absolute horror, it seemed to fuel whatever sick excitement he had.

Exasperated, you found yourself frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights.

There was no denying it…

You were stuck with this nutcase, weren’t you?

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— Jamil x Reader

‎ربما سنتزوج يوما ما.. وسنحظى بأطفال، يشبهونني فيكونوا شعراء،أو يشبهونك فيكونوا شعراً.

— “Maybe one day we will get married and we will have children. If they look like me then they will be poets, and if they look like you then they will be poems”

Just you and Jamil under the stars.

(It’s not stated that you’re yuu, but you are from another world 😛 and this time it is proofread! Maybe.)

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The winding twists and turns of life can be daunting.

Dreary was the constance of obligation, its ever-shifting presence leaving Jamil in a continuous state of restlessness. But tonight was one of the rare moments of respite.

Out in an open field, there you two were.

Grass blades swayed softly against the passing breeze. The fresh sensation of a summer night’s air settled onto the surface of both Jamil’s and your skin, tepid in every sense.

The scent of mildew lingered, sweet and mild.

Everything was peaceful. Away from the usual bustle of NRC—crowded student bodies, mountains of schoolwork, and expectations to live up to. All of it was momentarily gone. Nothing but the tranquility of night.

…

“Did you know that we’re made out of stardust?”

A simple question on your end, your voice accompanied by the subtle rustle of the grass that surrounded the both of you. Jamil’s attention drifted toward your side, a sense of confusion flashing across his face as a low hum escaped him.

“I mean—back in my world it’s been discovered that we share the same compounds as a star. Carbon, nitrogen, oxygen. All of that in a star that exploded, scattering its elements and making… well, us.”

Amusement escaped your lips as you realized how nonsensical you probably sounded. Despite the oddity, Jamil didn’t comment—choosing instead to listen intently.

The thought in and of itself was interesting. The notion of people being made up of something so far beyond any mage’s touch seemed fantastical—though in a world that had magic, he supposed it wasn’t that far of a stretch.

“Really? We’re all made of stars?”

“Mhm.”

The corner of your lips twitched upward, the countless distant lights in the sky seemingly filling your gaze as a bittersweet sensation entered the veins of your body.

“Kinda poetic, huh? Here we are staring up at the very compounds of our existence.”

Poetic. The moment hit too close to the feeling of home.

Words sizzled from your mouth before fading, allowing nature’s whispers to fill the silence. You blinked as a wave of nostalgia washed over you like a cold tide.

Memories of the past bled through like ink on paper—a more youthful version of you deep in the mountains, vapor emitting from your lips as you stared at your own stars.

The taste of toasted marshmallow was faint—accompanied by chocolate and graham crackers in all of their familiarity. Along with the taste came the vision of white splayed across the dark backdrop of the sky, a sight you’d grown to deeply love.

The Milky Way.

Jamil watched as you involuntarily let out a sigh.

“Sometimes I wish I was a star, floating around in space, light-years away from any problems. Just a massive ball of gas and heat.”

Shifting your gaze to the side, you couldn’t help but think that maybe if you were a star… that all-consuming feeling of hiraeth would dissipate.

Jamil’s heart tightened.

There was a far-off look on your face that couldn’t be ignored, a look he had seen countless times whenever you thought nobody was paying attention. Yearning and melancholy mixed into one—it was clear that you were homesick.

While yes, he felt sadness for your circumstances, there was something uglier twisting within his gut that he would never dare admit in front of you.

Jamil was a selfish man.

And he was glad that you were still here.

Reaching out, he laced his fingers between yours, squeezing your hand ever so slightly.

“Why wish for that when you’re already shining like one?”

Simple—the words leaving his lips as if he had just stated a well-known fact.

Jamil observed as surprise surfaced on your expression as you blinked, the apples of your cheeks dusting a light pink.

And then a laugh.

Just as quickly as it arrived, you brushed off his words as if they were just a silly little comment.

But they weren’t.

They were the truth—his truth.

“That’s sweet of you to say, Jamil.”

Quietly, you looked over toward him.

Moving to lay on your side, you readjusted, carefully observing Jamil’s expression—just like how you searched for Orion, Andromeda, or any familiar constellation that might have followed you into this world.

And like the poor, smitten fool he was, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at the movement.

Jamil followed the way you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as your breath matched the passing breeze that swirled through the field.

You opened your eyes once more and curiously tilted your head.

“What about you? Is there anything that you’d like to be?”

He paused for a moment, taking the time to consider your question.

A sentence sat on the very tip of his tongue, clawing to be heard.

But Jamil swallowed.

Because no matter how much he wanted to say he wanted to be with you, there was something in the back of his mind that knew it could never happen—that pessimism blocking his dearest wish.

So Jamil settled for the second-best option.

“…To be free.”

So simple, yet it was clear the word carried weight when it left his lips.

Jamil continued.

“Be rid of my duties and have the freedom to be who I want to be… do what I want to do.”

Be with who he wanted to be.

Jamil listened as you let out an understanding hum, your head nodding.

“Yeah. I get that.”

Shadows created deep contrasts against the surface of your skin as the serene light of the moon highlighted your features.

Jamil pressed his lips into a thin line, allowing silence to fill the space for a moment.

“You know…”

he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s funny. I feel the most free when I’m with you.”

The usual stoic shape of his face melted into something open.

It was as if his chest had been cut open, ribs surgically removed to reveal the beating pulp of his heart—that vital part of him that kept him alive and bled his feelings through to you.

Maybe it was just the late hour getting to him, or the way the stars seemed to twinkle in your eyes instead of the sky above, loosening his mouth and letting his words slip.

Whatever it was, Jamil wasn’t going to fight it.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with a raw honesty that surprised even himself.

No restraint. His words flowed freely, like his desire for liberation.

So entirely personal.

And yet it felt right.

Mellow silence stretched through the air between the two of you as you stared at him, eyes wide as a sense of wonder bubbled up within your chest.

Heavy—that would be the word you’d use to describe his words. A weighted blanket wrapped around you, embracing you in its soft vice.

You couldn’t help but let out a huff, heat flaring in your cheeks as you shifted your head away, opting to stare at the stars that bore witness to your embarrassment.

A chuckle jumbled in your throat as you tried to wash away your flustered state.

“Woah, hey. That sounded like a confession. Are you trying to imply something, Jamil?”

Jamil noted how carefully playful your delivery was, the corner of your lips twitching upward into a grin as your heart thumped—an off-stutter that threw off its usual steady rhythm.

His gaze softened.

The sound of grass rustling rose as the zephyr picked up its pace, shadows dancing. The dim glow of the moon watched, its gaze observing two souls laid side by side as twinkling starlight sparkled around them.

“Maybe I am.”

As if the universe itself wished for Jamil’s feelings to remain unknown, his sentence was carried off into the wind.

Your eyes shifted back to the stars above, brilliant in every single way.

And there he was, staring at the person he adored most—heart yearning to reach out and hold them, body aching, mind in disarray.

Night would come to rest. All of the shining stars that had been admired would be hidden away by the intensity of their own—the sun.

Day would appear, and Jamil would return to being a soul restrained by his duties.

And you would be you—listlessly wandering the world as you awaited a way home.

Two souls together, but bound by fate to never merge.

Tragic, isn’t it?

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— Sebek x Reader

Sebek realizes he likes you (and tweaks out about it).

not proofread. We die on this hill. 😵

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It started off small, a mindless thought on his part that soon caused a whirlwind of emotions.

There on his bed was the two of you. Bright light illuminating each and every corner of the room, shadows shying away from its glow and unfortunately highlighting the unruly state it had turned into.

Sebek’s room was (most of the time) tidy, clean, organized. As an inspiring knight for Lord Malleus, Sebek strives for discipline. If something simple as ‘keeping a room clean’ hinders him, does he really deserve to be called a knight?

Tidy, clean, organized.

But then you decided to break that streak.

Homework strewn across chaotically on top of his bed—some even falling onto the floor with little to no care, your shoes are idly kicked to the side near his door, your jacket on top of his chair.

And that wasn’t the only thing.

Hair bands placed on top of his desk alongside mechanical pencils you would so often lose, some of your homework would sometimes be shuffled with his own.

And what really really made his head spin was the fact that the smell of you lingered.

(His heart thumped and his body grew hot. It was definitely due to your brazenness. Yes, that’s why he feels this intensity).

At first Sebek was livid, promptly scolding you for your relaxed behavior and making a mess of his room, his voice booming throughout the walls that everybody in Diasomnia heard his displeasure.

But as the months past and your habit of making yourself at home doesn’t end, Sebek (begrudgingly) gets use to it and can only send you a pointed glare.

(He can only pray to the portrait of his Lord that he would be benevolent enough to avert its acrylic eyes from such unruly sight).

Laying on your stomach, hugging his pillow, twirling one of his pencils.

Sebek grumbles.

“Your insolence knows no bound! You’ve only completed four of your designated work and you still choose to laze around!”

With a sigh, you press your face against the pillow in your hold, plopping you hand down and letting the pencil roll out from your grasp.

“I can’t help it… your bed is sooo comfy.”

Body slouched with an aura of comfortable familiarity surrounding it, you make it seem like it’s your room that you’re in and not his—which earns a narrowed look on Sebeks end.

“You’re impossible.”

His words earn a giggle from your side.

(A part of him tries to deny the fact your laughter sends a fuzzy feeling through his chest).

Lifting your head, a lopsided grin present on your expression as you teasingly poke at his side, seemingly trying to aggravate him even more.

“Hey, you still choose to deal with me though.”

Sebek couldn’t argue against that.

It seemed like a curse when Sebek was first paired with you. Teamwork was already a hindrance in his book, even more so with a human that was way too lofty for his taste. A human that chose to submit their work at the very end with no structural integrity.

Surely the professor wouldn’t pair him up with you, right?

Oh how wrong he was.

Frustrating was the perfect word to describe how it felt working beside you. Your method was nonsensical—driving off whatever motivational energy you had at the moment, determining your next move based off of feelings.

You two were on a completely different wavelength.

But like a cruel joke, the universe decided that—despite the differences, you two truly did work well together.

A huff escapes Sebek’s lips

“Think nothing of it, human.”

You let out a groan as you flip your body on to your back, splaying out starfishes style as you close your eyes.

“Mhm. Whatever you say.”

His gaze never leaves your form

A moment of silence falls between the two of you.

He takes a moment to observe, watching as your chest rises up and down, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the air.

An unlikely being, taking a place in the sanctuary, soft shadows highlighting your features.

You looked so peaceful.

The tautness of Sebek’s shoulders relaxes.

It was moments like these where he couldn’t help but thank the professor for pairing you up with him.

Sebek blinks.

Did… did he really just think that?

The steady beating of his heart starts to rise. Like snow beginning to melt at the approach of spring, the spindle of his mind starts to turn.

Oh no.

The corner of your lips twitch upwards as a soft huff escapes.

“I can feel you staring, y’know?”

Sebek pulls back a bit, warmth blooming from the surface of his cheek to the tips of his ears.

“I—I wasn’t staring! I was merely observing!”

You laugh, a sound that reminded of a breeze rustling through the forest of Briar Valley, a sweet melody he associates as home.

Sebek couldn’t help but feel like a fool.

It felt like his heart was ready to burst out of his chest.

He should’ve known.

From the moment dread of working with you started morphing into excitement.

When your skin grazed his while handing him his part of the work, that small voice in the back of his mind wanted to feel more.

And when he caught Lilia’s gaze, a knowing smile plastered all across his face.

That’s when he knew…

He was doomed.

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