Ship: Mayuzumi/Akashi Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Word Count: 417
***
The second Mayuzumi sees Akashi’s eyes, the red of fresh blood and the yellow of a scab, he knows this is real, true, every bit of it. This isn’t a light novel, a cheap thrill, a fake out nightmare. This isn’t just fun and games with unseen reflections. It’s thirst for blood, white fangs where Akashi’s canines should be, a long tongue that licks his cherry red lips.
Vampires are hypnotic; Mayuzumi had read that somewhere (Dracula, perhaps?) and that’s true, or maybe self-fulfilling; maybe he’s baring his neck because part of him doesn’t believe it’s really true, that Akashi’s teeth will harmlessly dig in dents into his skin, that Akashi doesn’t want this, that he’ll laugh it off (as if Mayuzumi could fall for obvious usage of tropes, the old mansion, the rich clothes, the antiquated set of mannerisms). Or maybe it’s because Akashi compels him; maybe it’s because he believes it all and still wants this. A familiar, a meal, a human turned vampire. None of those are ever useful in books; none of those ever become something, someone. It’s a disposable role, almost, requisite, the first character killed off to show that something’s wrong. Mayuzumi’s mind is stalling, filling itself with thoughts as Akashi draws closer.
“That’s very kind of you,” Akashi says, cold finger drawing a line down Mayuzumi’s neck. “Thoughtful.”
The chomp of his fangs doesn’t hurt. It’s a sting and then numbness, like his jaw when he gets a filling in his tooth, the sound of flowing blood. There is a puncture, Mayuzumi imagines, incisions, clear like a deeper hickey. It’ll bruise. It feels nice, being sucked out this way, pleasant. Maybe he should have found a vampire to do this before; maybe he should have sought one out as more than a curiosity or half-myth. Maybe he’s feeling a little lightheaded as Akashi pulls out.
“Apologies,” Akashi says. “And thank you for your generous offering. Please, stay the night.”
Sleep’s beginning to sound really good right now, even if Mayuzumi wakes up to another vampire taking a meal from the other side of his neck, or if Akashi wants to suck him dry, draw out how he’s going to make the kill. There are worse ways to go, aren’t there? Mayuzumi falls asleep in a four poster bed, curtains closed all around him, staring at the spine of a book of poetry he’d grabbed from the nightstand, hand rubbing the indentations where Akashi’s fangs had drawn his blood.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 417
***
The second Mayuzumi sees Akashi’s eyes, the red of fresh blood and the yellow of a scab, he knows this is real, true, every bit of it. This isn’t a light novel, a cheap thrill, a fake out nightmare. This isn’t just fun and games with unseen reflections. It’s thirst for blood, white fangs where Akashi’s canines should be, a long tongue that licks his cherry red lips.
Vampires are hypnotic; Mayuzumi had read that somewhere (Dracula, perhaps?) and that’s true, or maybe self-fulfilling; maybe he’s baring his neck because part of him doesn’t believe it’s really true, that Akashi’s teeth will harmlessly dig in dents into his skin, that Akashi doesn’t want this, that he’ll laugh it off (as if Mayuzumi could fall for obvious usage of tropes, the old mansion, the rich clothes, the antiquated set of mannerisms). Or maybe it’s because Akashi compels him; maybe it’s because he believes it all and still wants this. A familiar, a meal, a human turned vampire. None of those are ever useful in books; none of those ever become something, someone. It’s a disposable role, almost, requisite, the first character killed off to show that something’s wrong. Mayuzumi’s mind is stalling, filling itself with thoughts as Akashi draws closer.
“That’s very kind of you,” Akashi says, cold finger drawing a line down Mayuzumi’s neck. “Thoughtful.”
The chomp of his fangs doesn’t hurt. It’s a sting and then numbness, like his jaw when he gets a filling in his tooth, the sound of flowing blood. There is a puncture, Mayuzumi imagines, incisions, clear like a deeper hickey. It’ll bruise. It feels nice, being sucked out this way, pleasant. Maybe he should have found a vampire to do this before; maybe he should have sought one out as more than a curiosity or half-myth. Maybe he’s feeling a little lightheaded as Akashi pulls out.
“Apologies,” Akashi says. “And thank you for your generous offering. Please, stay the night.”
Sleep’s beginning to sound really good right now, even if Mayuzumi wakes up to another vampire taking a meal from the other side of his neck, or if Akashi wants to suck him dry, draw out how he’s going to make the kill. There are worse ways to go, aren’t there? Mayuzumi falls asleep in a four poster bed, curtains closed all around him, staring at the spine of a book of poetry he’d grabbed from the nightstand, hand rubbing the indentations where Akashi’s fangs had drawn his blood.