#candyman x reader

Will Graham:

he will become nonchalant (no joke), he will stop being him for a minute to process his emotions and how to deal with them. he’ll also become a rude bitch. not just to them, but to you as well.

“how would that make you feel?” he may even roll his eyes. soon, that person will come up missing. 🌪️

Billy Loomis:

takes it to a different level even in public. he will try to embarrass that person in-front of everyone. he takes your arm and you guys leave. if you try to talk to him, he’ll ignore you until he’s ready to talk.

“i want you to stay here, with me tonight.” only later to find out that there’s been a ghost face attack…with them being the first victim. 📞

Stu Marcher:

if you think will is gonna be nonchalant, lemme tell you about this guy. not only will he go crazy if someone takes to much of your time, he then will not talk to you for a little bit, which upsets you ofc.

“i think you should just stay away from that guy.” you can imagine what stu will do from there…📞

Micheal Myers:

death. just death. since he’s a lot older than you (probably) he won’t even waste time trying to explain that he’s jealous. he’ll just go and kill them.

you can feel him staring at you under his mask. very creepy. 🔪

Valak:

wow, valak? being jealous? not a change. now, let’s say you were trying to summon another demon. now we’re taking. as i say in all my post he’s very sneaky. which means not only will he banish that demon, he’ll also banish you as well.

have fun in hell with him. forever. 🪞

Art the Clown:

if you expect art to not get jealous you must be mistaken dear. he’s a man child, a big baby. but when he gets mad, he’s mad. he’ll take you and tie you in a chair. then, he peels the victims skin off piece by piece while laughing without a care.

he will later surprise you with a heart …a human heart. 💉

Malthus:

dealing with a demon such as him will not end up good. also considering he’s mostly in the doll then with you. but that doesn’t stop him from seeing you interact with other people for to long.

that doll is everywhere. including that special persons home…🕯️

Ethan Landry:

will pretend everything is okay until it’s just you two alone. “why were you and them so close?” he stares deep into your soul, making you shudder. ethan is a walking mask. on the outside he’s a sweet boy. but on the inside he’s a brutal walking man.

“you stay the fuck away from her!!” as the knife digs deeper in their chest. 📞

Candyman:

he’s more calm actually. he trust you, not them. so as long as it doesn’t go to far, he’s okay with it. now, if it did go to far he’ll step in and take you away from them. he manly watches from afar tho.

“let’s head home.” let’s hope that person isn’t allergic to bees. 🐝

Pennywise (2017):

this clown didn’t understand what was happening at first. why did he feel that way? he had no idea. all he knew was that he didn’t like it, and he knew he had to do something about it. so if that requires him eating that persons chest out then so be it.

“you’re my friend. not theirs.” 🎈

Freddy Krueger:

oh my this man gets jealous so much it’s ridiculous. he’s so insecure about himself so when you find interest in anything other than him for more than 5 minutes he’s all over the place. it’s kinda sad actually.

HANNIBAL LECTER who does a majority of the holiday cooking because of course he does. Winter in general is one of his favorite times of the year. It’s the perfect opportunity to cook some hearty meals to warm everyone up. He loves it when you join him in the kitchen and he always enjoys teaching you new recipes or cooking methods.

TIFFANY VALENTINE who loves, loves, loves to decorate. If there’s an opportunity for her to make the house look pretty she’s going to take it. Just don’t get in her way when she’s in the zone, she needs her space for her creativity to thrive and oh boy does it ever. If you live in one of those towns that have holiday decor competitions, you’re sure to win thanks to her.

CHARLES “CHUCKY” LEE RAY who only likes this time of the year because of presents, most of which he steals. Why buy a present when it’s so easy to just take all the pretty, expensive things from people who have too much shit anyway? He prides himself on his gift-stealing and giving skills. You better believe you’re going to get something good from him.

PATRICK BATEMAN who views the holidays as one big competition, especially with gift giving. He feels like he has something to prove and that he has to be the one to buy you the most ridiculously expensive item there is. It’s not about whether or not you actually like it unfortunately. It’s about him feeding his ego.

VALAK & MALTHUS who don’t really care about the holidays especially if there are deities involved. No matter what you celebrate they still linger in the shadows, watching the holiday cheer. They’re indifferent to it, as they are with most human celebrations. It’s not their cup of tea to say the least.

PENNYWISE who just doesn’t get it. Why are you decorating a tree? Why are you hanging an oversized sock on the wall? Why are you lighting candles? Why are there so many desserts? Why are you putting a red and white hat on his head? Take it off. Now. Humans and their celebrations…it never fails to annoy him.

BILLY LENZ who is bouncing off the walls in joy. Something about this time of the year gets him all riled up and giddy. It’s not even the holidays themselves, he’s just odd during the winter. You can hear him in the attic scuttling around doing god knows what. He’s just an untamed ball of energy throughout the winter.

JOHN KRAMER who hasn’t really celebrated any holidays since his cancer diagnosis. He just never saw the point nor did he have anyone to celebrate with. But being around you (and his apprentices) changed things. There’s a sprinkle of joy in him that he hasn’t felt in years and the only gift he needs is you by his side, keeping him company.

ART THE CLOWN who is having way too much fun in all the worst ways imaginable. He’s like Santa if Santa were from hell. Trying to talk him down from doing something reckless and horrible is damn near impossible. He comes home in a blood-soaked Santa costume with a red bag full of “gifts” that you just know are going to be horrifying.

FREDDY KRUEGER who’s going to lose it if one more person cracks a joke about his sweater. During the winter everyone seems to focus on his choice of clothing a little bit more than usual. Is it really that bad? Yeah, it’s a Christmas sweater. So what? It’s not like he has a closet full of clothes, he’s a dream demon after all.

DANIEL “CANDYMAN” ROBITAILLE who is very concerned about you catching a cold. You’re in and out constantly shopping for presents and running errands. He insists you take his coat, claiming yours just isn’t enough. He even cleaned off all the blood stains. He just doesn’t want you to spend your holidays sick.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE who is exceptionally needy for some reason during the holidays. You’re busy focusing on decorating, volunteering, helping with the food, buying gifts, and not paying attention to him as much as he’d like. So Brahms unfortunately follows you around constantly during this time of the year, fishing for your attention which is the only gift he really cares about.

VINCENT SINCLAIR who sculpts the most intricate decoration you’ve ever seen. He works quickly, carving little snowmen and reindeer out of wax to sit around the house. He loves this time of year. There’s a spark in his creativity during the holidays and he loves using his art and skills to spread a little joy.

BABY FIREFLY who hides gifts so well she forgets where she put them. There have been several times when you’ve found a Christmas present months after December. It’ll be well into February and she’s pulling out boxes from the trunk of her car that she completely forgot about. She loves it because in a way it’s like the holidays aren’t over.

ASH WILLIAMS who has mastered making spiked eggnog and gets a little too drunk during the holidays. You’ve got to confiscate it from him at some point and replace it with a non alcoholic version of it from the store (he actually can’t tell the difference). He ends up having the best sleep of his life after he passes out.

CAPTAIN SPAULDING who is roped into dressing as Santa. Baby convinces him to grow out his beard and even dresses him up in a white wig. He’s not the most cheerful Santa but you know that deep down it makes him happy to see everyone smiling because of him.

MICHAEL MYERS who prefers to be left alone during the holidays. He’s already extremely introverted and tends to isolate himself most of the year. You give him his space and check in on him when he emerges from whatever closed-off space he’s been hiding in. He’s not the type to give gifts but sometimes you’ll find something small and surprisingly thoughtful left on your nightstand.

BO SINCLAIR who hangs way too much mistletoe in the most random of places. He is determined to catch you under each and every one. By the end of December, your lips are raw and chapped and it’s all his fault. When you go hunting around the property to take down all of the mistletoe he pouts like you’ve taken away his favorite toy.

Jason Voorhees

➛ Jason isn’t used to tears. Screaming, begging, yes. Crying like this? From pure sadness? No.

➛ The first time he sees you cry, it’s by accident. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders shaking, face buried in your hands like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. 

➛ Jason freezes in the doorway as his chest tightens in a way he doesn’t understand.

➛ You aren’t frantic and you aren’t having a guttural scream coming out of you, you’re just… crying.

➛ Jason doesn’t know what to say, words aren’t his thing since he doesn’t talk, but he does moves.

➛ Slowly and carefully, in a way he only had with his mom, and now with you. He kneels in front of you, tilting his head like he’s trying to read you.

➛ When you flinch, surprised to see him there, the sound of his step muffled by your sobs, he immediately stills, afraid he’s done something wrong.

➛ Then he does the only thing he knows won’t hurt you for sure; he wraps his arms around you. Big, solid, grounding. One hand presses against your back, firm but gentle, like he’s anchoring you to the world.

➛ He lets you cry into his shoulder, mask resting against your hair.

➛ Inside, he’s furious. Not at you of course, never at you. He couldn’t even if he tried! He’s mad at whatever made you feel like this, and if it’s someone, whoever caused this is already dead in his mind. (and might be in real life too!)

➛ Jason stays like that for as long as it takes. He doesn’t rush you and doesn't pull away. 

➛ When your crying slows, he presses his forehead to yours as he rocks you gently, mimicking how his mother used to comfort him in the hopes it helps you like it did him.

➛ You will never cry alone again.

Brahms Heelshire

➛ Brahms panics.

➛ The moment he hears the soft, broken sound of you crying, his heart drops straight to his stomach. He appears in the doorway like a ghost, eyes wide, hands twitching nervously.

➛ “Why are you crying?” he asks, voice tight, almost afraid of the answer. “Did I—did I do something?”

➛ When you shake your head no but don’t stop crying, Brahms is already crossing the room with quick stride towards you. 

➛ He kneels in front of you, hands hovering in hesitation before finally settling on your wrists like he’s asking permission without words.

➛ He hates this. Not because you’re crying, but because he can’t fix it immediately and doesn’t know how to even fix it.

➛ Brahms pulls you into his chest nervously, rocking you gently, murmuring reassurances in a low, repetitive voice. 

➛ “It’s alrigh,  I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He presses kisses into your hair, your temple, anywhere he can reach.

➛ Seeing you cry makes him feel helpless and terrified. What if you leave because of this? What if he’s not enough?

➛ He clings to you just as much as you cling to him, holding on like if he lets go for even a second, you’ll disappear.

Thomas Hewitt

➛ Thomas doesn’t understand tears, but he understands pain.

➛ When he finds you crying, his first reaction is confusion while he just stands there, head tilted, breathing heavy as he searches your body for any injuries.

➛ You look hurt, but not physically, and that scares him more than blood on you ever could.

➛ He approaches slowly, boots heavy on the floor. When you don’t look up, he lets out a distressed sound from his throat, hands clenching at his sides.

➛ Thomas crouches in front of you, big hands awkward as he gently touches your knee to make you look at him. 

➛ When you don’t pull away after a quick glance at him, he gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest like you’re made out of porcelain.

➛ He hums, low and shaky, a sound meant to soothe, learned from watching animals calm their young.

➛ Seeing you cry makes his chest ache uncomfortably. It makes him angry at the world, at himself for letting you hurt to the point of crying and at anything that dared hurt you. 

➛ He presses his masked face into your hair, holding you impossibly tighter, like he can physically keep the sadness from touching you again.

➛ You are his. And he will protect you from everything, including your own pain.

Bo Sinclair

➛ Bo tries to joke it away at first because, well, he’s Bo.

➛ “What’s wrong with ya?” he asks, voice light and teasing. 

➛ But then he sees your face as you look up at him. Red eyes, trembling lips and a lot of tears slipping down your cheeks, no matter how hard you try to stop them with short intakes of air.

➛ And suddenly, the smile dies.

➛ Bo goes quiet, staring at you like he’s been punched in the gut. He hates crying because he hates weakness, and for him, the two go hand in hand. But seeing you cry? It wrecks him.

➛ “Hey, hey, darlin’!” he whispers in surprise, stepping closer to you. 

➛ His hands hover, not knowing where to hold you, before finally cupping your face, thumbs wiping away tears like he’s frustrated with them. 

➛ “Don’t do that. Don’t cry.”

➛ He tries to sound as confident as he usually is yet, his voice cracks, just a little, enough to show how affected he really is by your crying.

➛ He pulls you into his chest, arms tight and protective around your shaking form. His jaw clenches as you sob against him, anger burning beneath the surface. Someone (because he can’t think that it’s something) made you feel like this and Bo will never let that go.

➛ He doesn’t say much after that. Just holds you, muttering curses under his breath as he keeps rocking you slightly.

➛ You crying makes something ugly and possessive bloom in his chest.

➛ He hates that he can’t fix it instantly and, let’s be honest, he’s really uncomfortable by someone he loves crying, but he’ll burn the world down if that’s what it takes to keep you smiling again.

Vincent Sinclair

➛ Vincent notices you will cry before you even do.

➛ He sees the way your hands shake, how your breathing stutters and your eyes starting to slightly shine as you blink more and more.

➛ When the first tear falls, his heart shatters.

➛ He whines quietly, standing up so fast his chair scrapes the floor. He approaches you carefully, like he’s afraid he might scare you away. 

➛ “Sweetheart, what happened?” He signs to you after gently making you look up at him by holding your chin with his fingers.

➛ When you start crying harder at the question, Vincent’s eye fill too, but he blinks it back. This isn’t about him. No matter how badly the sight of you crying makes him want to cry too, he has to control it, he tells himself.

➛ He pulls you into his arms, holding you gently, one hand cradling the back of your head. He murmurs soft hums.

➛ “It’s okay to cry.” he signs slowly, to make sure you can see every words through your tears. “I’ve got you.”

➛ Seeing you cry makes him feel deeply protective.

➛ It hurts, seeing you like this, but not in a way that scares him. It makes him want to shield you from every harsh thing in the world, to create something beautiful and safe just for you.

➛ He gently squeezes you, hoping some of your sadness will transfer into him so you’ll feel it less.

➛ He stays with you long after the tears stop, wiping your face with his sleeve, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Lester Sinclair

➛ Lester freaks out as he sees you.

➛ “Oh! Oh no!” he blurts out when he sees you crying. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong? Did I mess up? I didn’t mean to, I swear—”

➛ He crouches in front of you immediately, hands fluttering as he rests them on your shoulders without an ounce of hesitation. His voice drops, softer now. 

➛ “Please don’t cry…” he begs, slapping himself for telling you something like that.

➛ Of course you can cry, it’s just he wishes you would never feel the need to cry out of sadness!

➛ He pulls you into a clumsy hug, rocking you gently, rubbing your back in big circles.

➛ He talks nonstop, trying to distract you, comfort you, anything to make it better.

➛ “You’re okay. I got you. You’re safe. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you, alright? Not even yourself.”

➛ Seeing you cry makes him anxious and sad, like he’s failed you somehow.

➛ He takes it very personally, even if it has nothing to do with him.

➛ He stays close for the rest of the day, checking on you constantly, making sure you’re smiling again as he jokes about everything he can once you start to get a little better.

Amanda Young

➛ Amanda understands crying and sadness more than anyone.

➛ When she sees you break down, she doesn’t panic and she doesn’t push.

➛ She simply sits beside you, close but not crowding, her presence grounding.

➛ “Yeah, I get it  darling.” she sighs softly.

➛ She lets you cry, lets you fall apart as much as you need to. 

➛ When you lean into her, she wraps her arms around you tightly in a second, chin resting on the top of your head while she draws small circles on your back.

➛ She doesn’t tell you it’ll be okay right away, she tells you it’s allowed.

➛ “Let it out.” she whispers. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

➛ Seeing you cry makes her feel strangely good, not because you’re sad, but because you feel comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with her. 

➛ She knows what pain looks and feels like, and she knows how dangerous it is when people are left alone with it.

➛ And if it’s someone who made you cry? They’re on her list now. (except if it’s yourself, of course.)

➛ Once you've stopped, you apologize for crying and Amanda’s jaw tightens. She cups your face firmly, forcing you to look at her.

➛ “Don’t ever say sorry for that.” she warns you.

➛ She stays close the rest of the night, arm hooked around your waist, thumb tracing slow patterns against your skin.

➛ Anyone who hears about this later only knows one thing; you’re off limits.

Candyman

➛ Candyman hears you before he sees you. Your tears echo softly, and when he appears, it’s slow, with hesitation. 

➛ He doesn’t rush you. He kneels in front of you, golden eyes full of something ancient and gentle.

➛ “Why do you weep, beloved?” he asks, voice smooth and deep.

➛ When you just cry harder, unable to give him an answer, he reaches out, large hand lifting your chin so you don’t have to hide your face. 

➛ His thumb brushes away your tears with surprising tenderness while you mumble an apology.

➛ “Your tears are sacred, do not apologizes for them.”

➛ He pulls you into his embrace, warm and enveloping, voice murmuring praises and reassurances. 

➛ Seeing you cry stirs something protective and possessive in him, an ancient promise to guard what is precious.

➛ After your tears dry, Candyman doesn’t disappear, he stays right where he is, just moving slightly away from you to let you breath.

➛ He remains, looming but patient, presence warm and heavy like honey in the air. He lifts your hand, presses a kiss to your knuckles—slow, reverent.

➛ “Even like this, you still are the most beautiful." he says softly.

➛ When you lean into him, he coils around you slightly, possessive but protective.

➛ Your pain will not be ignored, it will be answered.

➛ When it’s time for him to leave, he looks back before leaving and softly calls out to you, to make sure you’re watching, then taps two fingers against his chest where his heart is.

Harry Warden

➛ Harry doesn’t hear or sees your crying at first, he feels it.

➛ There’s a shift in the mines, something off, something wrong, and when he turns around the corner to your makeshift bed and sees you sitting there, hunched in on yourself, tears slipping down your face in silence, his entire body stills.

➛ Harry isn’t good with emotions,isn’t good with words either, so he doesn’t even try to speak to comfort you.

➛ Instead, he approaches slowly, boots heavy against the floor, pickaxe left behind because the moment he realizes you’re crying, he knows nothing sharp belongs near you right now.

➛ He stops in front of you, towering, breathing slowly. You look so small and fragile like this, hurt in a way he can’t kill or break or scare away.

➛ Harry crouches down in front of you. One gloved hand lifts hesitantly, hovering for a second before he gently taps your knee, asking, not demanding like he usually does. When you don’t pull away, his shoulders relax just a little.

➛ He pulls you into his chest. It’s firm, solid and safe. His arms wrap around you fully the moment your head touches his chest, blocking out the world, helmet resting lightly against the top of your head. 

➛ One of his hands presses between your shoulder blades, steady pressure meant to ground you, the other resting at your lower back firmly.

➛ Harry stays silent the entire time but his presence speaks.

➛ The way he holds you like you might shatter, the way his breathing slows to match yours, the way he doesn’t let go even when your crying fades into soft hiccups…

➛ Inside, there’s a cold, furious clarity. Someone may have caused this. How, he doesn’t know, but it’s still a possibility and Harry doesn’t need words to promise that it will never happen again.

➛ He stays with you until you’re calm, until your body stops shaking completely, until your cheeks are dry and until you tell him you feel better.

➛ And when you finally pull back, he rests his helmet against your forehead for just a moment, with a quiet, intimate and unspoken reassurance.

Also while researching New Orleans Cajun foods for nicknames, I found out about the existence of Pralines, and they look SO GOOD

Hannibal Lecter - This is one of the ways you and Hannibal bond. You could talk about art for hours together. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, and your raw passion for the topic makes it so that you always have something new to say to one another. Date nights consist of going to art galleries for big and small artists. Something about being in one another’s presence sweetens the art itself. Hannibal often surprises you with trips to other countries just so you can go to their art museums and partake in new art scenes. Money is a small thing to Hannibal. The conversations you have about art? Those are priceless. 

Shane Walsh - He’s never been too interested in the arts. Not before the end of the world and certainly not after it. The only art that matters now is the art of survival. He tells you this often. Tells you to look to the future. Focus on surviving the day. On perfecting the skills he tries to teach you, day in and day out, so even if he’s gone, you’ll be okay. But you make him soft. For all that he bitches, he’s always giving in. Always looking to keep you alive, yes. But he wants you to be happy too. So he takes detours, and looks for libraries and bookstores that are beginning to cave in on themselves and smell of rotten pages and wood. He’s risked entire hoards of walkers to retrieve a book he knew was your favorite. He doesn’t mind when precious bag space is taken up by whatever paperbacks you can get your hands on. One day he might find a town that he likes enough and decide to go through the trouble of turning a library into a home for you. It will be well fortified, and he won’t like how many entry and exit points it might have. But he’d love to see you in your element, surrounded by what you love. 

V (from V for Vendetta) - So much art has been ruthlessly crushed beneath the boot of the fascist government you live under. Admiring the arts, any form of it, is like trying to hold sand in your hands. Your grip grows ever more desperate to hold onto anything. But there is no rhyme or reason to what is outlawed or taken away. Little bits of your soul are chipped away, with each new restriction, with each new burning or banning. Until V whisks you away to his hideout, and suddenly the world is made anew again. You are surrounded by art, art you didn’t even know existed. Things you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You inhale everything the gallery has to offer. You feel nearly gluttonous. In each room there is something new to see, hear, read. A feast for your senses anywhere you turn. You feel alive for the first time in years, maybe ever. V, in turn, feels his own form of gluttony. He cherishes every bit of delight he brings to your world. He feels like the worst kind of miser. The lowest of villains. What could be more precious than your smile? Or your laughter? Nothing. And by keeping you here, with him, he deprives the world of you and all you have to offer. But the world isn’t kind to precious things. So he keeps you like all the other treasures of this world. Hidden. Safe. Loved. 

Candyman - You collect book nook shelf inserts. Your home is covered in shelves, just to fit them. You have more book nooks than you do books separating them. Daniel is charmed to death by the collection. By the tender, diligent way you take care of them all. You spend hours of your week dusting. Fiddling. Making tiny adjustments. There must be something meditative about it, because you never complain. The joy he felt whenever he held a paintbrush is the same joy that flashes across your face when you open a new kit. He watches you assemble your precious, miniature worlds and ask you quiet questions, every now and again. He doesn’t want to break you from the beautiful trance you fall into, but he loves to peek into your mind. “What drew you to this scene, my love?” / “This one has an enchanting gloom to it. You have such an eye for art.” / “This one looks especially fragile, you might have to be more gentle, love.” He enjoys watching you lose yourself in your hobby. He loves the way you are unashamed in your joy. How you take pride in this work. You curl up into his side, after you’ve spent hours assembling one of your nooks, and the two of you will stare at it in all its completed glory. 

Robert Neville (I Am Legend) - At first he thought you were a hallucination. He’d been hearing things more often. Seeing things too. The human mind wasn’t built for isolation, as a scientist he was well aware of that. He tries to compensate as best he can. With his mannequins. With entertainment. By focusing on his research. He only has to stay sane long enough to fix the world he couldn’t save. That’s all. But then he sees you, while he’s hunting. The sun is still high in the sky, and you don’t move like a dark seeker. You’re cautious, slow. You also don’t move like a hallucination. You don’t really look like one either. He almost doesn’t approach you, afraid he’ll discover you were a mirage. He follows you all day long, until the sun is getting too low for comfort. Then Robert approaches you, fumbling through the obvious (it isn’t safe out here), barely remembering to introduce himself because people have names. Hoping desperately that you’ll trust a strange man instead of taking your chances with the dark. But the entire time he talks to you his eyes keep drifting to all the jewelry you’re wearing. Earrings. Bracelets. Necklaces. Rings. They glint in the light. Hypnotizing in their imperfections and intricacies. You move into his home, but you two drift around each other like ghosts. You’ve been alone so long, the both of you. You dreamed of meeting another living person. But faced with the reality of it, you’re overwhelmed. Until one night after dinner he finds you in the living room, making more of your jewelry. Slow and careful. He asks you about it, and you tell him it kept you sane while you were alone. Made you feel human. Then you look up at him, and he freezes under your gaze. (It’s been so long since he’s looked into someone’s eyes. It almost hurts. He can’t imagine ever looking away.) You ask him what kept him human. He’s not sure he still is. But he moves to sit beside you on the floor, hands you beads, and tells you he's been pretty fond of movies lately. 

Lestat De Lioncourt - You were a tailor in life, before he turned you. In death, in this eternity he’s given you, fabric is nearly your religion. With your vampiric eyes, you see even the tiniest flaw in stitching. All colors look more vibrant. The world looks more alive. Even though you can never see the way certain fabrics and colors catch the light of the sun, moonlight and starlight can be just as beautiful. You drag him to fashion shows in order to soak in the new styles, and cuts of clothing. You are as endeared by couture as you are the various counter cultures that arise throughout the decades you spend together. You spend exorbitant amounts of money on the finest bolts of cloth and thread. Sewing and tailoring and designing can be done entirely on your own. In fact, you’d probably be done quicker if you were just left to your work. But Lestat gets lonely when you lock yourself up in your work room for days on end. He likes to drape himself against your back, push himself into your side. Trail teasing fingers up your arm, to see if he can get your ever steady hands to falter (he cannot.) Looking over your shoulders and seeing what latest fashion has caught your eye is his hobby. You don’t mind the company of your muse. Sometimes you even sit him in front of you as you sew, and let the sound of him talking guide your needle and thread. He hardly wears anything you don’t make. Not only is your work superior, but every piece is made of love. 

Abe Sapien - You love everything about movies. How they’re made. Sound design. Light design. Set design. The difference between digital and film cameras. Abe was caught in your orbit the minute you were recruited. Talking to you, trying to form a connection, however, did not come as easy. Awkward nods as you passed one another in the hall. Stilted, dry conversation as you ate lunch at the same tables. It was enough to drive him mad. He didn’t know why he alone was unable to form any sort of acquaintanceship with you (especially when he wanted far more than that). This all changed during movie night. You were watching the voted on film play out on screen, entranced by every individual frame, it seemed. He’d never seen anyone smile so fetchingly, or blink so little. He bravely, and quietly, asked if you were enjoying the film. You began to eagerly whisper to him all sorts of details about how the film was made, the difference between the final product and script. Apparently, it was one of your favorites. With one conversation, the bridge between you two was crossed. Abe had been so caught up in enjoying literature, he hadn't explored much of the diverse realm of cinema. Happily, you appointed yourself the esteemed position as his guide. Somewhere between sharing your tastes, late night discussions, and dry eyes from sleepless nights, you leaned over to kiss him. He kissed you back, and you both forgot all about movies for a little while. 

Vincent Sinclair - You were an avid admirer of sculptures. You went to museums, and had to curl your hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch the statues. There was something so beautiful about someone taking the time to carve human shapes out of stone and earth. To make marble resemble fabric as delicate as silk. It was breathtaking to you, really. Until you came across the House of Wax, you hadn’t really thought of wax as a means to make sculptures. Instantly, you are captivated. You forget that your car is being “repaired”, so closely do you look at every sculpture. You admire each one from several angles, for long periods of time, face giving away nothing. Vincent watches you, wanting to know what you’re thinking about his art so desperately he feels as if he’ll die. He interrupts Bo from the preparations to kill you and makes him ask you questions. Bo asks each one through gritted teeth, irritated to be playing a game of telephone, but even he is a little charmed by your thoughtful answers. When Vincent insists on not killing you Bo just shakes his head and washes his hands of the situation. You fall asleep in the town’s only motel, but when you wake up you’re in Vincent’s workshop. You’ll be able to admire his art for as long as you like now. 

Joel Miller - You tell him stories. You’re an avid collector of them. Wherever you go, you collect a story from someone. Sometimes they’re fantastical. Some myth or aesop fables that will be lost to the sands of time and the chaos of the apocalypse within just one more generation (if humanity makes it that long.) Other times they’re heartbreakingly real. The taste of an apple pie someone’s grandmother used to make for them. The memory of someone trying on their wedding dress for the first time. You have a way about you. It’s your eyes. The warmth in them. The understanding. Even after so many years of survival and fighting, you possess an empathy that should have gotten you killed by now. Instead you’re the keeper of people’s stories. You’ll be riding side by side on your horses, and Joel won’t sense any danger nearby, so he’ll say the magic words: You got a story for me today, L/N? And you always do. The sound of your voice keeps his head quiet.