jekyll-and-lanyon

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Accidentally in Love (the shrek song) glass scientists Animatic

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

This started as an Art Fight attack for @leonenjoyer69 but I got super carried away with the concept. I LOVE your idea of Lanyon accidentally taking HJ7, and Jekyll being there for it? Horrific, I love it. Here's an angst comic for ya. >:D

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

the shattering of a prince rupert’s drop

i don’t think (if henry does decide to do a fake out death with the sommet de la mort) that lanyon would find Jekyll’s body as it makes more sense for Hyde’s body to be the one found as it would get the cops off him without tarnishing jekylls reputation but. the angst potential is high and the brainworms have already invaded my brain so here is this. i might colour it one day but rn i need a nap bc school is kicking my ass 🤸

also the glass,,, scientists,,, lanyon being a prince ruperts drop,,, pretty much impenetrable until you hit its tail,,, robert’s soft spot being henry,,,, do you see the vision.

also also first time drawing Jasper and Rachel I need to draw them more often 😭😭 also ignore the wonky bits i haven’t drawn in forever

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Fanart for @aliens-took-my-iwa-chan's That Was NOT An Aspirin, a very good fic which I am very excited to see where it goes!

Anyway, tilted up heads are very difficult and I have no idea why I did that to myself twice in a single picture. I nearly did it a third time too but realised I couldn't use the same head position for everyone and stopped myself

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Fae Lanyon 7

chapter 1  chapter 6

Jekyll was so relieved to get away. It had been two months since his escape but he was still nervous to be found again.

Those fears turned out to not be irrational

“Henry, I’d like you to meet my friend, Dr. Robert Lanyon.”

Jekyll froze and felt a chill go through him. It felt as if he’d never be able to move again.

The smirk on Lanyons face did not help any either.

He finally found the will to move.

“I- we’ve- we’ve met.”

“Yes we have haven’t we? I’m afraid you left rather rudely last time before I had a chance to say goodbye. I trust that won’t be the case tonight?”

“No of- of course not.”

“Good. Then let’s get seated.”

——–

Henry didn’t know what to do. He felt like his entire world was crashing around him and if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in an insane asylum he couldn’t say a word to ask for help either. At least not until he could get alone with Utterson, get away from Lanyon.

But the way Lanyon was looking at him every few seconds with that damnable smile made him think that the chance of that was pretty low.

“So Lanyon, how do you and Dr. Jekyll meet? He hasn’t mentioned you before.”

“I imagine he hasn’t no, though we are quiet….. Close I’d say. We have a mutual acquaintance, but I highly doubt he’ll be able to see her again anytime soon.”

Jekyll choked back tears. So Lanyon knew how he got out then. There was no chance of him escaping a second time. Still, he had to give it a shot.

“And why shouldn’t I see her do you think?”

“Well I just don’t think it’s wise considering her track record. She seems to have a fondness for rather… troublesome individuals and messes with property and affairs that simply are not hers. Don’t worry about her though, she has her own things to keep her entertained without you.”

Dinner continued and every second  his insides twisted more and more, causing him panic. He didn’t know how everyone else seemed to be missing the signs when it was so obvious, the way he subtly replaces the silverware with his own of steel, the way he refuses milk or honey offered to him but fills his cup with little else when it’s his own hand, how he won’t eat salts or breads but tears into the meat.

He can’t stop staring at Lanyon. He just can’t.

“And what kind of doctors work do you do?”

Lanyon was answering Gabriel but his eyes drilled into Jekyll.

“I am interested in psychology, on why creatures act certain ways, but I would be lying if I said I haven’t started hypothetically  thinking about biology and the limits something could be pushed to given the right circumstances. Say, it was in an environment that it was not supposed to be in.”

It felt like a storm was coming, and the threat filled him with terror as he could do nothing but squeeze his eyes tight.

“That’s why I appreciate domesticy, it puts animals from dangerous yet natural environments into safer more capable hands.”

He couldn’t do it any more, he couldn’t.

Jekyll shot up.

“Excuse me I’m feeling unwell.”

“Are you? Well if needed I can take you home.”

“NO! I mean I- I’ll be fine, I don’t need to leave yet uh- Utterson? Could you show me where to find the rest room?”

Utterson looked at him confused but nodded and Jekyll felt he could finally breath.

“Jekyll, what is this all about? What’s going on?”

“John you have to help me, I’m in incredible danger. I know you noticed my absence when I was gone and- and- and-”

“What is it? Henry you’re scaring me what’s wrong?”

“Lanyon he’s- he kidnapped me, he’s been keeping me captive and treating me like some- some pet! He’s not even a person he’s one of the fae and I got away but he’s found me please help me you have to believe me you have-”

Jekyll let out a shriek when Lanyon appeared out of nowhere right by Utterson tsking.

“I told you. It’s quite unfortunate his state, worse than I thought, but well, you can see for yourself.”

“No- no no no no no- what did you tell him- WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?!?!”

“The truth. Simply that you have been kept away from society because it has been determined that you are better off else where, that I am taking care of you and you seem to think that I’m not human and keeping you hostage, and that you escaped without the say of me or my superiors.”

“You- you convinced him I’m insane? Surely he wouldn’t believe that, he knows me well enough!”

“You certainly have been acting… strange and erratic all night. And admitting that you believe me to be some creature of supernatural origins does not help your case.”

Jekyll looked to Utterson with pleading eyes. 

“Please- he’s deceiving you, he just wants me as his play thing, don’t let him take me back! You believe me don’t you Gabriel? You HAVE to believe me!”

The lawyer just looked away from Jekyll.

“GABRIEL! PLEASE!”

Lanyons hand gripped his shoulder and he let out a shudder and tried to pull away.

“I know you don’t like being told what to do but I would suggest you calm down Doctor Jekyll we wouldn’t want any… Incidences would we? And you certainly don’t want to drag your friend into this do you?”

He bit back a cry. There was no way out, and Lanyon made it very clear that if he didn’t play along that John would have…. SOMETHING done to him.

“If I come quietly do you promise- do you promise not to hurt or- or try to take or use any of my love ones?”

“I promise.”

He nodded and started numbly walking.

He had no other choice.

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

yooo guys! new multichapter fic from me! this is chapter one.

Tuning in today, this time on a look into my brain and ideas; What if Lanyon made his own Hyde??

cw for: suicide; do not read if you are sensitive to that!

Henry Jekyll was furious in a way Hastie had never seen him before. Jaw working, eyes blazing, and a set to his shoulders that suggested he was stifling back a violent response.

“Oh, don’t give me that!” Lanyon snapped.

“It’s insanity!”

“No it’s not!” Jekyll snapped back loudly.

“Man IS comprised of dual-“

“Harry! You’re being insane!-“ Lanyon interrupted.

“Let’s say I believe this theory.

Mankind has two natures. Good and evil. Where do all the other feelings fall into?” Lanyon snapped, gesturing wildly.

“They!-“ Jekyll interjected.

“You don’t have shit on that and you know it!” Lanyon snapped back.

Henry growled, with venom in his eyes, and fell silent.

(He didn’t have any clue, did he? Perhaps Lanyon was being too harsh… But he didn’t want Henry to make some mistake, or fixate on this idiotic theory! It was incorrect in several ways, and it WOULD harm him!)

“Fine! Let’s say I believe you can actually divide the ‘good’ and ‘evil’ into different bodies.” Lanyon made quotation marks with his fingers, to stress his doubt of the concept. (There was no good. No evil. Why didn’t Henry understand that?)

“What happens to the evil when it is set free, and in a separate body to boot!” Lanyon took a deep breath.

“It goes on it’s own way, away from the ‘good’. Life is relieved of all that is unbearable. Fine!

But what will happen to the world, if it had a being of pure evil in it? A being with no remorse. No guilt. No consciousness to dissuade it. What sort of madness and chaos would that cause?”

Henry stuttered, and tried to choke out words, face flushed with wrath.

“It’s a fanciful idea Jekyll! You know it! It’s foolishness!” Lanyon yelled at him!

Why didn’t he understand it was a terrible idea! Why didn’t he understand the wrongness of it all!-

“You’re wrong! You’re so damn wrong!” Jekyll shouted loudly.

“I’ve seen good and evil in myself Hastie! All these sinful desires! I try to be a good man! I want to be a good man, and I labor towards it! I have to choke back my desires to watch the world burn! I choke back my desires to harm others! There is duality! It can be wrenched apart! How can I be so radically different at the same time? It can’t be possible!” Henry ranted loudly, hands grasping at his hair tightly, and pulling as he paced frantically around Lanyon.

“It has to be true!” He shouted, looking at Hastie hysterically!

Lanyon’s hard expression instantly crumbled.

“Henry… You aren’t evil.” He said softly, trying to push his all his emotions on the matter into his voice, with a soft tone.

Jekyll was probably the best thing that had ever happened to Lanyon! How could he be anything but beautiful to him? To anyone?!

Jekyll startled back, and stopped pacing.

“I’m evil! I am! How could I be good?!-“ His voice wavered, and he shook in place.

“Harry! You’re not evil!” Lanyon tried to convince him.

Henry stood stock still, staring at Lanyon with a raised eyebrow. (He obviously didn’t believe him…)

“Harry…” Lanyon murmured.

Lanyon stepped forward and embraced him tightly.

“There is no good. No evil. They’re all concepts made up by the church to try and make them feel better about themselves. No man is good. No man is evil.”

Jekyll made a disbelieving scoff from inside his arms. Lanyon hugged him even tighter.

“And if there was an evil man, it wouldn’t be you, Harry. You try so hard to help others.” Lanyon paused.

Another unbelieving huff from in between his arms.

…Lanyon was shit at comforting others.(Consequences from not a whole lot of comfort for himself.)

“Look. Don’t let the statue of Jesus christ tell you how to feel or act, alright Jekyll?”

Jekyll lifted his head up from Lanyon to stare him in the eyes hesitantly.

“…Alright.” He murmured with a small unbelieving chuckle, and a shaking voice.

Then dipped his head down in the crook of Hastie’s neck. Gently resting in it.

“I’m serious Henry. You’re not evil. Thoughts mean nothing, unless if they are performed.” Lanyon lifted a hand up to Jekyll’s hair, and stroked gently. The other hand was at the base of his neck, gently rubbing.

Henry shook.

“That’s not true. That’s not true. That’s not true…” He repeated, in a whisper that shook and trembled.

(He sounded as if he was about to cry. And Lanyon had never done well around crying…)

“You’re not evil Harry.” Lanyon said firmly. (Maybe the more he said it, the more the sentiment would ingrain itself in Henry…)

Henry pushed his head into the crook of Lanyon’s neck forcefully, tickling his jaw with his hair.

He began to sniffle.

(Lanyon really had never known how to handle crying…)

A tear ran down his cheek, falling onto Lanyon’s neck. Henry grabbed Lanyon’s hands from his head and neck, and pulled Hastie’s arms around himself tightly.

(…But for Jekyll, he’d make an effort.)

“Harry…” He whispered quietly.

Then Henry began to sob in earnest.

He let go of all of his weight, and Lanyon held him up tightly.

As Henry sobbed hysterically into his neck, nails clenched into his arms, Lanyon wondered just how far the damage that caused Henry to come up with that theory went…

————-/——-/—-/——/——/—-/—/——-///

It had been two months since he had seen Jekyll, laying in his bed in the middle of a Wednesday. The floor littered with empty wine bottles, and a notebook left open, scrawled with illegible words. A will on the table, written and signed by some unknown lawyer.

(And two months since Jekyll had cried into his shoulder, and begged him for death…)

It had been five months since Henry had started withdrawing from society.

He had been attending every social event he could. Every dinner, every party, every meeting of the royal society. (Lanyon went to those meetings just to see him. Jekyll’s eyes would gleam as he talked with others about their passions.)

That passion fizzled out slowly, and Lanyon watched it bleed from his eyes. (Snapshot by snapshot. From one social event to another.)

He was worried, but he had absolutely no clue what to do! (Did he deserve to comfort Jekyll after all that happened? Could he personally take comforting him? Not be selfish, and try to rope him back into a relationship that would end in misery again, or prison?-)

Six months before, a gala, in celebration of the birthday of Sir Danvers Carew. Henry looked so tired. Eyes red rimmed and eye bags obvious, he smiled (That fake smile that Lanyon taught him. But this one was unconvincing, at least to Hastie. Not that shining charming smile that Jekyll had made all his own…) and laughed.

Danced, with stumbling weak feet. Spent most of the time drinking, champagne glass to his lips, instead of talking.

Rebuffed most attempts at serious conversation, with polite words and that smile that didn’t reach his eyes. (Lanyon couldn’t even pretend to himself that he went for any reason other than Jekyll. And maybe it was good that he did attend.)

Lanyon spoke with him. Tried to distract him from whatever misery he was being plagued by. (If Jekyll was showing this sort of emotion in public, imagine how he felt it in private!..)

Jekyll reassured him (Unconvincingly!) and eventually left halfway through the event.

An irregularity. Jekyll usually stayed until the end, and then some. People loved to stay and chat with the ‘charming young man’ as they described him as.

(Leaving early during one of the biggest recurring events of the year in high society? Was concerning for sure. Extremely concerning, in fact…)

It had been two long years since his own [Damned!] wedding. Two years since he watched Jekyll smile and dance with the ladies in the crowd with an undecipherable expression. (Was he as torn up about it all as he was?-)

He slipped away at the end of the ceremony without even a single word to Hastie the entire time…

It had been twenty six months and one week since he had broken up with Jekyll. [Hastie wasn’t keeping exact count of the days! No! That’d be unhealthy! That’d hurt him even more!-]

Two years, two months, and one week ago, Henry had stormed out of their dorm after their argument. It was probably deserved. Lanyon broke up with him harshly, deriding their relationship. Poking at his insecurities. His deepest kept flaws, that Jekyll confessed to him with a sob.

(Who would’ve known that Jekyll’s family didn’t approve of his choice in life? A doctor, instead of what society deemed him to be? To have to be?

And that little part of himself that said he couldn’t be loved. Probably the same part that called himself evil, and screamed a song of revenge in his ears…)

And what had Lanyon done? What had he done with that information? He used it to piss him off. To hurt Jekyll! (Jekyll should hurt just as much as he was! Be as torn up about the words that were unwillingly leaving his mouth as he was!-)

Jekyll never said another word to him about it afterwards. About their relationship. About what they had shared. (Lanyon deserved that! Henry deserved better than a broken man who couldn’t even stop himself from getting married!-)

Every single interaction after that was a performance of their previous relationship, before intimacy entered it. [A mockery of it.]

Jekyll put on the character of the smart boy with a laugh in response to everything, (A laugh that grew bitter…) and Lanyon, the rich dandy who criticized everything, and tried to sneer at pain.

Both with a mask of indifference. (Was it a mask for Jekyll? Did he truly not care anymore?)

No matter what it was, their relationship was strained. Lanyon mourned that easy intimacy they had shared before.

(Everything around this broke Lanyon. Broke him in dozens of ways, both big and small, in every aspect of his life… Did it break Jekyll too?)

[Did it hurt him as much as it hurt Lanyon?]

And now, it had been just over one long, long, month since he had seen Jekyll at all. He left London. To go on some journey to go discover… Something. He wasn’t very clear about that.

Lanyon suspected differently…

How did Henry go from suicidal to smiling in less than two weeks? He wasn’t buying what Jekyll was selling.

Lanyon suspected that Jekyll was visiting home. He’d visit his parents for the first time in years. He’d check on them. And then go missing…

(Jekyll had always talked about the cliffs near his hometown. How gorgeous they were. How he’d sit on the edge, oh so close to death, and look down at the rocks down below calmly. How the thought of being so close to death, but not, comforted him. Being so high above and seeing seagulls fly by, and watching the waves crash. [Would he be just another one of the hundreds of bodies, dashed against the shore?])

Hastie would never see him again!

How could that slow, slow decline that Lanyon had watched suddenly reverse itself so quickly? All the pain in Henry’s voice. All the despair!

And so, Lanyon inspected every single one of their interactions. Grasping at straws, to hope he’d still be alive. Hoping that Hastie would see him again...

In all of his musings, one conversation that they had years ago, haunted him. (It just kept bringing itself back up in his mind, time and time again…)

Lanyon considered himself without Jekyll in his life at all. His life, his emotional state. He’d be miserable. More so than he had before, with just little tastes of the man he loved in public, in front of dozens of eyes. (Lanyon couldn’t bring himself to invite him to his house. And Jekyll hadn’t invited him to his own either…)

What else would happen though? Misery was such a vague thing…

Suicide was not something he believed in. Suicide was for the weak. Giving up on life, and quitting, instead of enduring through the pain. And Lanyon was not weak! (Was Jekyll weak?.. Maybe he had to revise some of his sentiments…)

But the idea of never even having the chance to see Jekyll again filled him with a pit of dread. (And if just thinking about it made him feel like that, then what about it actually happening?)

And maybe… Just maybe, suicide really wasn’t such a thing for the weak.

Lanyon was good at portraying indifference. Plastering it all over his face, and his mind. Shoving down things that pissed him off. (Or God forbid, made him feel…)

Shoving out a hard facade, sharp as broken glass, and just as cutting.

No one could touch him. They’d run away screaming, hands bloody and in pain.

But when he stopped and thought, it all hurt. It hurt so much!-

Did Jekyll give a damn? Did he care? He had been so good at compartmentalization, outside of his outbursts of emotion, alone in their room. Was any of it real? Any of those emotions he showed outside of those passion filled moments, where his emotions overflowed and exploded, things he truly felt, and not just another show?-

Was Jekyll shoving the emotions behind a curtain, just like him? (Pretty damned opaque curtain, at least to Hastie…)

How long would it have kept going if Lanyon didn’t break it off?

Would Jekyll still be whispering in his ear to that day? Telling him that he loved him, and how handsome he was?

Would they still be sharing kisses, even then?

(Would Jekyll be in his arms, instead of wherever the fuck he was?)

That stung. It all stung, so fucking much. But it was unchangeable. Finished. Cemented, set in stone, for all of eternity. (Did it have to be?!-)

Most of the time, he could keep up that idea. The idea that he didn’t give a fuck. That idea of being untouchable, indifferent, above it all.

The idea Lanyon was above it ALL, and nothing had ever harmed him. Could ever harm him.

But when he couldn’t? He couldn’t…

He really couldn’t. He’d think. He’d want to sob. (Lanyon hadn’t cried since he was a boy. Tears were not for men. Tears showed you cared. That it affected you. Tears were weakness. He. Was. Not. Weak!-)

Lanyon hated being lost in thought. Hated inspecting two years worth of a relationship. Just under three of a friendship, before the relationship and when they were both. (Before it all went to shit!)

Moment after moment. Hour after hour of smiles he’d never see again, both genuine and fake. Freckles and birthmarks.

Shyness fading to a sharp snarky tongue, that cut like a whip when it needed to.

(Would he ever hear one of Jekyll’s terrible jokes again? Ever fight with him about one of his theories again? Ever ‘discuss’ the best kind of fabric? Ever bitch about an old woman’s newest wig? Listen to Jekyll ramble about creatures and the supernatural, chemistry and anatomy? Ever crack open a bottle of wine with him again?)

Would he ever spend time with him again? Truly spend time, not separated from each other between a wall of memories and an old busybody next to them?

Lanyon’s heart would hurt…

And then that dammed conversation would rear its head again. And again. Whisper in his ear, wouldn’t this be so much easier?..

Now, with Jekyll gone, probably forever, he was considering it. Seriously…

…

Maybe Lanyon DID need some insanity…

Maybe Robert did need a wildly incorrect idea to latch onto.

Maybe Hastie did need to fixate on an idiotic theory…

Relieve all that was painful in life? That sounded good right about now. It sounded beautiful, as he had watched the man he loved, and was unsure loved him back die slowly, as he watched on uselessly. (As Lanyon did nothing!-)

Divide himself into two? Even better! One half indifference and gentleman, one half all his stupid emotions that choked him down.

He could free himself from his yoke. His noose, that slowly closed in, tightening around his neck, snapped.

He could unwind the complex winding knotted ball of string that was himself.

Complex was tiring. Complex was exhausting. Complex hurt his heart. Complex was hard to maintain.

Complexity brought pain. Simplicity would cut the gordian knot.

Done. Finished. No more of any of that shit ever again.

The duality of man, hmm?..

Lanyon could do that.

He was very stubborn when he wanted to be. And for something that would help him as much as this?

Something that would make everything so much fucking easier?

He would make it happen.

Yes…

Lanyon swore on his life that he’d make it happen.

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

I just love these two, and want them to love each other :P

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Wow finally learnt anatomy enough for an actual decent KITH

Enjoy these fools going at each other. Fools in love.

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

They are married, your honor

(see? I do normal art too!)

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

So...

Princess and the frog au?

(I don't like paint my traditional drawings, but this one makes me happy)

The last one is actually a frog version of one panel of the chapter 8 :D

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Some nice wholesome Jekyon fanart

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Here’s a short Jekyon Valentine’s Day fic!

The bell to the stationer’s shop rang behind Jekyll as he left, clutching a small bag in his hand. He hurried back to the society, which wasn’t too far away, though the light snowfall made it somewhat difficult. But he had to do this now, if not…it would eat at him for the year.

In the privacy of his study Jekyll carefully took out an assortment of stationary from the bag, ranging from paper to glue to ribbons to other embellishments. He sat down and began crafting. He started by using silk flowers to create a bouquet on the front. Red camellia, lilac, red tulip, gardenia, red rose. After fashioning a white ribbon over the bouquet, he added a red heart in the middle of it.

The last touch he added was a small illustration he made of a Scottish Rose on the heart, then wrote out a message with a shy smile near the bottom of the card. Once content with the design, Jekyll slipped the valentine in between some papers he had to give Lanyon, who chose that exact moment to enter the younger man’s office.

“Henry, do you have the budget papers I asked for?”

Jekyll’s cheeks flared. He felt like a schoolboy as he silently approached Lanyon, thrusting the papers in his hands, squeaking out a “one moment” before darting out of the room to breathe. Lanyon eyed the door, then thumbed through the pages, only to find a small card. He pulled it out and read the message on the front.

With the fondest love, Your Valentine. Henry Jekyll.

Lanyon felt his face warm, half tossing the papers aside and running out the door, where Jekyll stood not even a foot away. Lanyon closed the distance, taking Jekyll into his arms and, with a confirming nod, caught his lips in a kiss. Jekyll pulled the older man in closer for the kiss, fingers entwined in the latter’s ascot. They broke apart minutes later, a smile finding its way across Lanyon’s face.

“May my fondest love find you as well, my darling Henry.”

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Lanyon: I think it’s time we put a stop to this foolish little affair, don’t you?

Jekyll: I… Yes, of course you’re right.

I did a thing. Yesterday sketched the idea, today finished it, stared at it some more and decided to post before I start hating it.

yeah…the povs of our two emotionally dense idiots.

my half-delusional rants about this below

there was so many things wrong while drawing it but listen the important thing is that it came out fine(or at least at a first glance…). yeah so I didn't have a purple pen for Lanyon's thoughts, so I did this really cool thing called improvising with my purple highlighter. If you cannot read my handwriting I sincerely apologise. I will help you translate o.o

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

I like to think that I'm funny

Totally not inspired by a previous post of mine (lie)

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Robert thinks hyde is his ex right? So... to be clear... from Roberts perspective this happened

He breaks Hyde's heart

Hyde goes fuck it and moves on, shedding all care of social normalness

He meets Henry and they start a thing that gets so important that henry straight up puts him in his will

Hyde fucks up and accidently burns down shit

Robert basically told Henry to frame his (what he thinks is) his partner

Henry frames hyde cause he trusts his best friend

Hyde is now pissed at Robert

This is hilarious

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

Vampire Lanyon Fic FTW

[Edit: fixed the inconsistency of Robert's lisp]

"-and then she hit me! Hit me!!"

Robert desperately prayed Henry wouldn't turn around just yet, for once thankful for the man's habit of pacing and getting lost in his own head when venting. Robert's fangs had slid out (completely unwarranted, and he wondered if this was the kind of mortification men with 'complications downstairs' felt) and he was struggling to get them to recede to a less noticable length. Luckily, Henry wasn't likely to be done anytime soon-

"I mean, can you believe the audacity-!?" Henry paused, freezing on the spot as he turned around. Robert stiffened, mouth wide open, caught in the middle of trying to press one fang back into his gums by force. "...Robert..?"

"It'ss not what it lookss like!!" Robert shrieked, cringing at both the shrillness of his own voice and the slight lisp his fangs forced upon him. Henry stared wide-eyed as his friend tried to frantically retract his fangs. Before Robert could try and explain himself, Henry had rushed forward and caught him by the chin, keeping his mouth held open and staring with awe at his long, sharp teeth.

"Are these fangs!? When did this happen!?" Robert made an offended noise as Henry practically shoved his fingers into his mouth, gripping one of his fangs and running his thumb along the point. Robert finally managed to swat the alchemist's hands away, closing his mouth with a look of annoyed disbelief. Henry smiled sheepishly, sinking in on himself. "Sorry, it's just.. fascinating! When did you get bit? How long have you been a vampire? Why... why didn't you tell me..?" Robert frowned as Henry's excited smile slowly dimmed. He sighed.

"Henry... firsst of all, I never ssaid I wass a vampire, but your assssumption iss ssadly correct," He patted the seat beside him on the couch, and Henry sat down, looking at him with interest (and the slightest hint of hurt). "And ssecondly.. I've alwayss had thesse.. I wass born like thiss." Henry's red eyes widened in surprise.

"How did I never-?" Henry jumped as Robert finally managed to retract his fangs. Well.. one of them, at least. Henry snickered, earning a glare from Robert, and he immediately leaned in to get a closer look at his now slitted pupils. Robert huffed, shoving his face away, which only made Henry chuckle again. "Well, that explains one question, though I had always wondered why your teeth were so pointy."

Robert rolled his eyes, and Henry took the brief moment of Robert looking away to allow a fond look to cross his face. He couldn't help it; those chubby cheeks and freckles with the add on of one stuck fang hanging down over his chin? And with that slight lisp? How could he not smile? How could he not blush? When Robert looked back, he raised an eyebrow, and Henry fumbled for an excuse as to why his cheeks were suddenly pinker.

"U-Uh, can I examine them?" Robert blinked, and Henry felt like smacking himself for asking that. Robert blushed, then slowly, a bit flustered, opened his mouth. Henry leaned in, a bit giddy, and, much gentler this time, started to run his thumb over the end of the extended fang. "Incredible," He breathed, and Robert glanced away, his blush darkening. "Would you mind if I measured-?"

"Extended they're three inchess, retracted they're only a bit longer than your own caniness."

"...you measured your fangs?"

"Oh, shut it, Jekyll!!" Robert barked, shoving Henry back as the Scotsman started to laugh.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Robert, all young men measure their fangs at some point in their life~"

"Shut up!!! It'ss not like that!!!" Robert grabbed one of the couch pillows and started to hit Henry with it, which only made the doctor laugh harder. Robert continued hitting him, Henry practically cackling at this point between desperate pleas of, "Robert, no, you'll break it!! Those are my nice cushions!!" The rest of the evening passed much the same, and ended with Henry pulling feathers out of his hair with a deadpan stare and Robert bashfully muttering that he would replace the cushion as soon as possible.

[jekyll-and-lanyon]

“Maybe they weren’t the most practical of things but.. Robert loved them. He loved every feather.”

Some art of an amazing oneshot for my Magpie au written by @quimble