Me: I missed DaiHaru so I started reading Fugou Keiji: Balance:Unlimited fics again, then Egg and I got into a discussion about some old fandoms in the Turning server, which eventually led to a mention of Vanitas no Carte. Same routine, read some fics on VnC, then I decided I wanted to see Yuder looking fancy and stylish, with dangling earrings by the way, because why not?
Date & Time of Idea Generation: March 12, 2024 at 1:55 AM.
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Normal POV!
The first time he sees him, Kishiar thinks he might have died without his notice and met the Angel of Death himself — after all, who else can possess such an otherworldly beauty amidst the gruesome havoc surrounding the ethereal creature than Death himself?
Eyes of beautiful obsidian, glittering like gems under the moonlight should not have looked as beautiful as it is empty, looking out of place in the face of a young man surrounded by carnage.
A mask of indifference, unbothered by the petrified screams of panicked guests running away from the rampaging vampire — the eerie calmness in his expression should have been a cause of unease, but Kishiar can only watch, mesmerized by the elegant way in which he moves, how his long, silky strands of hair tied loosely in a deep blue ribbon flutters gracefully from the explosive entrance, landing flawlessly even with broken glass shards raining down from the window he'd broken in.
It leaves Kishiar breathless, and only when those captivating midnight pools turn steely does he break out of his awestruck trance, and suddenly the world around him revolves once more.
The urgency of the situation is further accentuated by the pained scream of an unfortunate woman captured in the vampire's claws, and Kishiar inwardly berates himself for getting distracted, but before he can act, the youthful-looking enigma is suddenly in his space, and this close he notices the piercings decorating the stranger's ears, only revealed when movement from the swift displacement brushed delicate locks away.
"You should stay back."
The velvety sound of the unknown man's voice at close proximity stuns Kishiar to a stop, and he couldn't help the way his eyes dart to the other's soft, petal-like lips for a brief moment, only managing to keep his footing by the insistent hold on his arm by a dainty, gloved hand. The claws seemingly embedded into the tips of his glove digs through the fabric of Kishiar's sleeve, but the grip is loose.
Under his unrelenting stare, Kishiar relaxes in his grasp. It's obvious that the unexpected company means no harm, and he seems to know more about the situation than anyone else at present. The unruffled demeanor only serves to assure Kishiar, and a sense of anticipation begins to brew at possibly having met someone who holds the answers for the sudden frenzy vampires are subjected to.
Kishiar glances toward the deranged vampire and her hostage, repressing his eagerness to focus on the situation at hand. Shifting his stance into a subdued one, the dark-haired beauty lets him go, and he silently mourns the loss of his gentle touch. He faces the anomaly, who meets his eyes with an undiscernible expression, and Kishiar has the feeling that he's being studied, so he offers him a harmless smile.
"Will you kill her?"
Tilting his head in question, the dark-haired beauty eyes him with a considering look, as though the notion of murder is an unfamiliar concept that never came up even in this kind of situation. When he speaks, it is with the confidence of a person who knows what they're doing.
"No, killing does not fall under my role as a doctor."
Faintly shaking his head, the luminescent blue sand encased in golden hourglass dangling in one ear jostles lightly at the action, and it's baffling, how effortlessly he can trap Kishiar under a mystified daze. Although the array of accessories and stylish attire seem unsuited for the mild-mannered man, who looks like he couldn't care less about appearances, the fancy wardrobe only serves to enhance the alluring radiance he seems to exude.
Kishiar's throat emits an approving sound, acknowledging the answer with a pleased upturn of his lips. His eyes linger on plump lips and button nose before settling on the eyes, admiring as he asks, wondering.
"What are you intending to do?"
It earns him a blink, long dark lashes that compliment doe eyes perfectly making themselves known, but an answer never comes. Instead, the object of Kishiar's fascination faces the commotion, alerted by a scared whimper. Even then, he looks unconcerned, gaze half-lidded as he pulls away from the taller man and begins making his way towards the agitated vampire, heels tapping the tiled ground in every step, slow and purposeful in his approach, addressing Kishiar as he goes.
"Please leave this to me."
What comes after that is a rather flashy display performed in fluid movements and a graceful execution, nothing short of sublime. It's beautiful, a riveting experience, and it leaves Kishiar restless in excitement, enthralled by the thrilling show.
But none of that compares to the sudden hunger that overcomes him.
It's a feeling he's almost forgotten; this craving…
As a vampire, Kishiar is not at all that obsessed with human blood. It entices him, just like any other blood-sucking creature, because it satiates their hunger. As a source of energy, their body is simply made to enjoy their sustenance. Even so, Kishiar feeds regularly, never deprived of blood. Nathan, a human he once took in, makes sure of this, always running to clinics and going on excursions in search of willing humans who can provide blood to supply him.
But more than that, there's also this unfamiliar urge, a mounting desire to know more about this man — this man whose soft features, elegant mannerisms, gorgeous visage, and calming presence put him at ease, while simultaneously increasing his heart rate, leaving him intoxicated and enamored, brimming with unbridled curiosity.
It's almost concerning, how a single meeting can make Kishiar so fixated, overtaken by the eagerness to know.
Curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially for a vampire like Kishiar.
His bloodline allows him to read through the memories of the person he's feeding on, an exclusive ability he inherited. Prying on one's mind has never been something he enjoys, but now, faced with such a mystery in the form of this charming enigma before his eyes…
For the first time in this prolonged existence, Kishiar wants.
He longs for a taste of his blood.
Yearning, and absolutely starving.
A loud clanking noise is what brings Kishiar out of his stupor, a rattling that came from the chains that kept a book attached to the stranger's belt, and it's almost a shame that he's missed the rest of the process, his mind a frenzied mess over this newfound obsession.
Ebony eyes peer at him curiously, and Kishiar withdraws to himself, feeling his protruding fangs return to their blunt state. As the distance between them shortens, the fragrant scent coming from a small cut on the other's chin catches his attention.
So Kishiar offers him a disarming smile, masking the hunger in his gaze.
'All in due time.'
After all, they have plenty.
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Me: Enon is definitely Dante here (if you know, you know). I started this on Monday, March 18 but since I had a major exam scheduled the next day, I only managed to write the first seven paragraphs of the story. Then, any attempts to continue writing straight after the aforementioned test resulted in a drop in quality of my writing, so I took a break and continued on Thursday, which brought results that I was satisfied with so I ended up finishing this on that day, too. Still, I decided to refrain from publishing it so soon after completion like I usually do, just to see if I can come up with a title and description I can be satisfied with. But anyways, here it is! AND IN CASE I WASN'T CLEAR, Kishiar isn't thirsty for Yuder or his blood — he was thirsting for knowledge and drowning in his desire to get to know him. God, the lengths I had to go through to keep Yuder unnamed. I've nothing more to say but, obligatory discord server (tdNdHA9) plug, I guess…
~~~CHAO!~~~