First Vs Last Appearance Of The Main Castlevania Trio

first vs last appearance of the main Castlevania trio

I like him a normal amount

at this ungodly hour im thinking of cos sylvan, its smth so personal to me when he says “i think i’ve found the worst mistake, the kind that sounds just like it tastes”

PARFUM D'ÉTOILES

໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა .*･｡ﾟ⌒ tobio kageyama x f!reader. sfw / established relationship / non-explicit reference to sex / both parties are naked && in a bathtub / slightly suggestive / lazily proofread / no plot really i dunno . . . m jus prosing abt mega ultra supa dupa lovestruck tobi here T_T / for @rinphoria’s the only truth is music collab! / 1.8k wc ♱ collab masterlist ♱ my masterlist.

tobio kageyama thinks he can see the whole universe in your eyes.

the moon upon your hair and the stars disguised as blemishes on your skin.

he didn’t think he’d ever be one for sappy romantics like this; it was always supposed to be just him and his volleyball, the two of them against the world. 

his mornings were always supposed to start at the crack of dawn, with a run along the west coast shore where he’d stop at the humble little café and grab a biscotti for an early breakfast— one for himself and one for the stray ginger cat that hung out by his apartment— the one that would never let him touch her, or even get near her before running off in the other direction.

his nights were always supposed to be spent getting extra reps out on the court, coming home too late and too tired to make anything new for dinner, eating leftovers while reviewing film for his next match, doing setting drills in his bed and writing in his volleyball journal before passing out on top of his sheets with his ball cradled in his arms.

but then, by fate of the cosmos, he met someone. 

someone who kept him in bed for a little while longer in the mornings with the warmth of her bare body against his, her lips hot against his neck in usually successful attempts to keep him to herself before he went about his day. someone who he’d grab an extra biscotti— or maybe two or three, if she asked— for after his run, someone who helped him gain the trust of that cat, someone who convinced him to put a collar with a nametag around her neck and bring her home.

someone who fed him fresh, warm meals after practice, someone who knew his likes and dislikes inside out, someone who he put to bed every night with tender touches of his fingers and lips over sacred parts of her body under the sheets, someone who put him to bed the same way.

someone he sees so much life in, someone through which he fell in love with the world.

someone who showed him what love is; how to love. someone who was able to see the very outline of his soul. touch it, even.

and now, when tobio kageyama looks at you, he thinks he can see the whole universe in your eyes.

at least, that’s what he thinks, as he watches you— completely enamoured— from the other side of the bathtub. 

the air that fills his bathroom is noisy; it always is on friday nights, where essential oil baths with you have worked its way into his schedule.

the gentle splashing of the water as your fingers tread at its surface and the sounds of rome on a hot summer’s night slip through the open window: incomprehensible chatter from patrons at the bar just across the narrow cobblestone street, the faint clinking of emptied dishes and glasses, the muted whispers of an accordion busker some blocks down. there’s the hum of your voice too— it’s quieter than the ambience surrounding his senses, yet it’s the only thing his ears seem to want to pick up on.

your voice is soft— the timbre of it a little shaky in certain parts where the pitch is either too low or too high for your range— but it carries through his blood so smoothly, enveloping him in a comforting embrace when it spreads along the broad expanse of back, just as your palms do when you knead the muscles under his taut skin there before bed every night.

tobio finds himself drowning in the dreamy lilt of your voice, the melody of your humming all too familiar as he wracks his brain to try and place where he’s heard it before.

did you have it playing from the speakers when you were cleaning the apartment one day? or was it from that one concert you took him to a couple months ago? maybe it was a song from the old italian film you both watched at the drive-in theatre last weekend. he can’t seem to remember.

he’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he barely notices when you shift around, playing with the water suddenly to boresome for you as you instead opt to lean against the edge of the tub, forearms digging into the cool marble while you look out at the city below you.

tobio feels his mouth go dry at the increased exposure of your bare skin— of course, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; he knows your body like he knows the lines on the court, having mapped out every inch of your soft flesh with his lips— but he can’t help the way he begins to feel the steady beating of his heart in his ears. 

beauty incarnate is what he thinks you are: under the warm yellow glow of the streetlamps lining either side of the street, the flickers of the tealights set on the windowsill reflecting off the sheen of the perfumed bathwater coating every dip and curve of your frame, the languid smile on your lips and the stars in your eyes that seem to shine brighter than the city lights.

tobio’s body moves on its own when he reaches out to run his fingertips down the groove of your back, all the way to the bottom of your spine where the surface of the water meets your skin, his pinkie grazing over the bath ducky that floats near you. his attention is averted from you to the yellow piece of rubber momentarily, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he’s reminded of how it ended up joining the two of you on your weekly friday night baths; it was a gift to you that he’d purchased from a street vendor on the way back home one day— something about it screaming your name. tobio could never tell what that ‘it’ was.

and as he continues to admire you, he finally recognizes the tune you’d been humming, “that’s that song.”

“hm?” you tilt your head as you turn to look at him, a knowing smile on your lips that goes past tobio’s head.

his eyes meet yours, and there’s a slight hitch in his breath before he speaks hushedly, “the pianist played it at that restaurant, where we—"

“— had our first date… you remember,” your smile grows wider— it’s bright, almost blinding. his eyes briefly flit to the rubber ducky that’s now made its way in front of him. 

the smile on it looks just like the one you’re wearing now.

tobio scoffs, a wordless reply of, “of course i remember— how could i forget?” before his fingers resume their path along your hips, tracing over the faint lightning bolts that line the supple skin there, gently squeezing the fat of it in between his thumb and index finger.

"c'mere," he beckons you towards him with the slight outstretch of his arms, and you do as he says— shuffling through the water until you’re facing him, your frame bracketed by his legs as you kneel in between them and press your chest flush against his, running your palms down the walls of the tub until they fall flat on his thighs underneath the surface.

you feel him tense up under your touch; it coaxes a tiny giggle out of you and has you nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the residual scent of sea salt and wood sage from his cologne clouding your senses as your lips move on their own along the expanse of the soft skin there. 

“y’know my thighs are sensitive…” he grunts into your hair, biting back a pleasured hum when he feels the warmth of your breath over his pulse.

his palms leave their place on your hips to find your neck, cradling each side as his thumbs rub gently at the remnants of rosy glitter you had dusted onto your cheekbones earlier on in the evening— before you took his hand in yours and dragged him to the beach to enjoy the cotton candy sunset and some freshly baked cannoli— another thing that had worked its way into his weekly schedule, another thing that he wouldn’t have found much joy in if it weren’t for you.

you watch as his eyes dart across the expanse of your face— from the stray hairs framing it, to the puzzled pout of your lips, to the bob of your neck when you swallow, to the slight raise of your brows— before they finally settle on your own. 

and as his gaze meets yours, tobio realizes that he's right.

he can see the whole universe in your eyes.

his whole universe. 

through the ridges that line your irises, he can see the stuff his dreams are made of and the whirling ways of the cosmos that pass— all of the stars, and planets, and moons, and galaxies— his entire past, present, and future. 

his heart thrashes around the confinements of his ribs, the thrum of its beating picking up tempo as it travels through his blood and to his eardrums— he would rip it out of his chest and hand it to you on a silver platter, he would hang up all of the moons and stars in each of the 100 billion galaxies in the universe for you if he could.

“what’s on your mind?” the airy whisper of your voice falls onto his ears as a surprise, as if he weren’t expecting you to speak up in the three, now nearly four consecutive minutes he’d been staring at you without an explanation or a sound.

i love you. god, i love you so much. 

that’s what he wants to say.

there’s one other sentence— or a question, rather, that tags along with it— yet he can’t seem to get the words out of his chest. it feels like there’s a black hole where they lie, rooted so deep in the core of his soul that it sucks him in with the strongest force of gravity he’s ever felt— makes him feel like he weighs a million tons and simultaneously nothing at all. he’s nervous, but he’s also calm; clouded by his thoughts, but his mind couldn’t be any clearer.

the words dance on the tip of his tongue and he opens his mouth to speak, but instead swallows back his proclamation with the tiniest bit of hesitancy— like a shot of hard liquor— strong enough to cause a stinging pain to the membrane lining his throat, but warm enough to send an afterglow of chilling comfort through his limbs.

tobio slips his hands down beneath the water to find your own, a knowing smile working its way onto his lips. 

it mirrors the one you’re wearing.

he opens his mouth to speak— one more time— barely noticing how his thumb starts to rub along your bare ring finger, his love for you silently pouring out of his fingertip and wrapping around yours as an invisible band.

“i think you already know.”

taggiez :: @shoyouu @sinfuldxlight @atsumeii @gojotron @eeuphorique @getosbunny @neon-crucifix @t0m-yuu

sawbz i hope dis was okay . . . thx 4 reading i hope u luvd it ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა comments + reblogs r so appreciated <3

I think I found / the worst mistake, the kind that sounds / just like it tastes

Listen/purchase: The Damned by Cos Sylvan 

yana's special artwork for anime expo <3 featuring malleus draconia!