#anyway vampires should be allowed to consume stuff other than blood

[amelia-yap]

@white-rose-week day 3:Vampire Schnees and Vampire Hunter Ruby

40% blood!

[plutobutartsy]

You Mentioned OCs. (np)

oh di i'm so excited you asked about them i'm actually jumping up and down rn bc like,,, i've had these two for YEARS, i rotate them in my mind every single day and with all the media i consume i always think ok but what if the protagonists were ACTUALLY my ocs like i'm so mentally ill about them

their names are Briar and Evelyn (Evie for short) and they're both so silly and so disgustingly in love, think vincent and lovely but ten times worse

also this got like REALLY long so don't feel obligated to read it all lol

let's start with my boy Briar

his name frequently gets mistaken for Brian and it makes him so irrationally angry lol

he's a born vampire! so no old man activities this boy is like 17 as of now

he's the one who knows how to cook! he makes food for others as a love language

also fun fact there's like an actual vampire cuisine in this universe so vampires can consume food that's not just blood and still get nutritional value out of it

his family are part of the older vampire generation technically? what i mean is his family have been vampires for a few centuries now so they're kinda rich and well known

that said, his parents are for sure around 80-100 but him and his sisters are young!

as i've said he's only around 17 and he's the youngest out of his siblings

he has 3 older sisters (20ish, 24 and 28) and they're all very protective of him because omg!!!! that's their baby brother!!!

sometimes too protective to the point where they underestimate him and make him feel bad,,, woops!

he still really looks up to them and puts them on a bit of a pedestal, making him an overachieving perfectionist while he strives to get to what he assumes is their level

spoiler alert this results in a lot of angst and him not feeling good enough despite his parents and sisters never really pressureing him to do anything

he definitely tries to hide his insecurity by overcompensating and acting more arrogant than he is but his friends can read him like a book lol

"i had this leftover because i made too much on accident, eat it so i don't feel bad about being wasteful. honestly you should feel honored to be allowed to taste my cooking" translation: "you seemed stressed so i made you your favourite meal but please don't bring it up or i'll die. hope you like it ^-^"

terrified of bugs which is unfortunate since his 3rd sister loves them and keeps them as pets

when i said overachiever i meant it. student body president. excels in most sports. top grades.

he has to be perfect or he will literally die (real) (not fake)

oh he's also scared of dogs and he's very pathetic about it. i'm talking he sees a tiny puppy and he crosses to the other side of the street.

works at a convenience store because he doesn't want to end up being a spoilt rich brat stereotype lol the old ladies at check out love him because he always offers to carry their bags to their car for them

tries to act all serious and grown up when he's around his sisters to impress them but it's a lost cause

he's a complete sweetheart please tell him he's doing a good job and watch trashy dramas and reality tv with him

okie Evie time :3

she's a witch!! wohoo magic

she has like a billion siblings

jk just 5 but still

all of them are adopted and a different magical being (for example her older brother is a werewolf) simply because i think it's funny

listen hear me out: her dad is like fucking bruce wayne, adopting kids left and right, but he's just a regular schmegular human so i think it's hilarious that he adopts a new kid and he's all like "oh great they're just human phew no stress for me"

just to find out that no, this child is in fact NOT human, and on top of that they're an entirely different species than the rest of his kids so he has to learn about their specific needs and quirks and whatnot all over again

listen it's hilarious

okay anyways

evie stress bakes!! so she always has new stuff to give to others because WOW girl you're stressed beyond measure

brought 5 loafes of bread to school once to give to her friends. "thanks but you already gave me 2 yesterday my family really can't eat all of that :(" "girl PLEASE you have to help me i have 12 more at home and my dad is fucking PISSED he told me to get rid of them immediately."

if Briar needs to be perfect or else he will die, then Evelyn needs everyone to like her or she will die

she's honestly a bit of a pushover because of that but she's working on it and has made great progress (therapy queen)

fashion lover and lover of cute things

her outfits look like a claire's threw up on her

her magic manifested when she was like 5 when she got into a fight with her brother and she just. launched his ass into the sky lol

that accident broke his leg and made her resent her powers for a bit

like she wanted nothing to do with them and straight up refused to go to a school where she would learn about them. her dad was so worried because suppressing magic longterm makes you actually sick

that is until a friend of her dad explained to her that learning to control her powers would help her prevent any more accidents

that friend is called Makena and we love her! she's a witch as well and ended up giving Evie private lessons and also helped Evie's dad with learning about magic and how to care for non-human kids

at first Evelyn rly sucked at magic like REALLY sucked at magic and she was like, are you serious this is ASS

but she was just a slow learner and is really good now :)

works at Makena's cafe in an effort to help with her social skills

i have drawings of these two somewhere but it's been a while so i can't fund them 😭

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Shioriko Stares

Primary Pairing Trio: LanzMiaShio Rating: T Words: 734 AU: Theater, Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: ??? Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Buzzard Content Warning: Vampire stuff and vocabulary that may offend some of my readers... according to Word

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Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 10th

Summary: Shioriko stares at Mia

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She could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of her head.

Nobody could stare like Shioriko, as far as Mia was concerned. Nobody had as wide a variety of stares as Shioriko. There was her resting, mid-distance stare. Her disinterested stare. Her interested stare. Her very interested stare. Her confused stare. Her bemused stare. Her amused stare. And so many more. And truth be told, Mia loved them all.

And recently, Mia had become more aware Shioriko’s hungry stare. Specifically, directed at her.

Mia had no idea how often vampires had to drink blood. Nor did she know how or why Shioriko was able to consume normal human food, albeit in far smaller quantities than nearly everyone else she knew. She’d been caught off guard by how little she knew about vampires, or at least the type Shioriko was, more often than she cared to admit over the last few days. Hell, she hadn’t even known drinking Lanzhu’s angelic blood had made her immune to the sun.

But Lanzhu had said they would meet the same time next week after Shioriko had first drank Mia’s blood. Did that mean Shioriko only needed to drink blood once a week? But Lanzhu had also said that Shioriko had still wanted Mia’s blood despite having drank her fill of hers. Could Shioriko consume more than she actually needed to survive? Certainly, many living beings were capable of overeating, but vampires were undead, so maybe they played by different rules?

Mia shook her head to clear it. In doing so, she realized the sensation of being stared at was gone.

“Taylor-san?” the orchestra conductor asked.

“Sorry, what part were you having trouble with again?”

Mia shifted to get a better view of the score held by the conductor. Her position allowed her to steal a glance over to where Shioriko had been rehearsing with her fellow actors. Sure enough, her girlfriend had moved elsewhere.

---------

The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck stood on end.

Mia clenched her jaw. All day. Every opportunity she got, Shioriko had stared at her. Just stared. Nothing else. Not even a word.

Sure, she knew Shioriko could behave distant or disconnected at times. And sure, she had come to love the stares as a trait of one of the women she loved. But they were dating now. Surely that warranted something a more, right?

Mia tensed as she heard her girlfriend approach, stop, and loom over her chair. Staring.

“Gods damnit!” Mia spun. “Stop hovering over me like some damned buzzard! I’m not a roadkill rabbit to be scavenged!”

Shioriko flinched, nearly dropping the bag in her hands, and stumbled back a step. “My… My apologies, Mia.” She straightened and offered a curt bow. “I… shall take my leave.”

Mia sniffed. How had she missed that aroma? Had she really been so distracted by the staring that she hadn’t realized Shioriko brought food?

“Wait!” Mia called as the other woman turned.

Shioriko paused.

“Were you… bringing lunch for me?”

“Yes. Tsubasa-san ordered again from the Kousaka Kafé. I suspected you missed the message, so I brought ours here.”

“I see. Thank you, Shioriko. And uhm… sorry for shouting at you.”

“I’m sorry for staring.” Shioriko cleared space on Mia’s desk.

“Were you wanting to drink my blood?”

Shioriko blinked. “How… did you know?”

“I’m starting to learn your stares.”

Shioriko blushed. “Oh…”

“Anyway, you should have just said so.” Mia undid her collar button and pulled it open.

“I… can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because Lanzhu isn’t here to restore you.”

“You need Lanzhu for what now?” A voice came from the door.

Mia laughed. “Your timing is perfect.” She said as her other girlfriend strode into the studio. “But you’re back early?”

“Lanzhu sealed the deal with ease.” Lanzhu boasted, setting her own bag down. She glanced between the others. “I see. Well, go ahead, Shioriko. I’ll take care of Mia after.”

Shioriko nearly lunged at Mia.

For her part, Mia laughed again before letting the still strange sensations take over.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: Still kinda feeling my way through this trio, to be honest. The R3BIRTH girls have been slowly growing on me as of late; their three latest songs definitely got many replays to get me through my work nights when they came out.

However, the idea of Mia worrying about being “just” a little jackalope in a relationship with two extremely powerful, immortal beings definitely lends itself to a lot of exploration. And said exploration may very well help my headcanons for them over in my non-AU works. Or my other AU’s.

In any case, they are indeed fun to write.

[bosspigeon]

not if it's you

Prompt: Day One: Cooking, Day Two: Cuddling💕 Pairing: Mason/Male Detective Words: 3293 Summary: Mason is sick. Mason's not supposed to get sick, but magic tends to not give a shit if you're a big, tough vampire man with a reputation to maintain. A prompt fill for @wayhavensummer that I wasn't sure I'd finish, but I'm glad I decided to. I combined two prompts into one, along with the inclusion of the bonus challenge, "love languages!" Juni's love language is Acts of Service~ CW for emetophobia. Nothing actually happens, but it is discussed!

“I’m not a vampire, Mason,” Juni said to him when he clicked on the lamp on his dresser and Mason growled loudly in protest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see in the dark.”

Mason's growl became a long, low groaning noise as he dragged a pillow over his face. It helped more than he cared to admit, being immediately plunged into soothing darkness and smothered in the warm, sweet scent of the detective buried in his pillow.

Still, he feels like absolute shit.

The illness should run its course in just a few days, from what Juni’s relayed to him about Nate’s research—since he won’t leave Juni’s apartment (he’s not going to say can’t, because that implies weakness, implies that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he could, he just won’t, and that’s all there is to it) until he’s well, and refuses to go crawling to the Agency when he just needs to wait things out.

If he went to the Agency, he’d just be “waiting things out” the same as he is there, only he’d be doing it alone in a stiflingly empty observation room, bored out of his fucking skull until someone decided to come poke at him for science. At least here, he’s got Juni fussing over him.

It’s sort of… nice, being fussed over.

And Juni would be fussing whether Mason was here or not. He’d probably be driving himself crazy with worry, making himself sick with it, if Mason were stuck at headquarters without him, and the thought of that makes Mason feel even worse than he already does. It’s really best for the both of them that the vampire is here, buried in a metric fuckton of blankets (because even if he feels like he’s going to burn alive, the second he leaves them the sweat cools on his skin and leaves him trembling) looking into the blank, beady eyes of a patchwork plush cat.

His entire body aches, throbbing dully from the top down, but he reaches out with a heavy arm and turns it around so it’s not fucking staring at him anymore.

Juni’s been gone for a while, but Mason can hear him over the low ringing in his ears, puttering around in the kitchen. His senses are weakened by the bizarre magical illness Juni’s likened to the flu after hearing the symptoms, but he hears the detective humming quietly to himself, smells some spices and herbs he’s too exhausted to bother identifying over the low thrum of something metallic and familiar.

Mason's stomach growls at the same moment it churns. Hungry, but the very thought of consuming anything, blood included, makes him feel nauseous.

He doesn't know how Juni managed to sweet-talk Adam into handing over Mason's blood rations for the few days it would take this sickness to work its way through his body, but it makes him faintly irked he'll have to disappoint the detective when he tells him he doesn't even think his traitorous stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry he is. Juni always looks so pitiful when he can't help, soft doe eyes and pouty mouth and genuine, heartfelt distress rolling off him in waves. Mason groans into the pillow and comforts himself by drawing another detective-scented breath deep into his lungs.

And then Juni knocks on the doorframe (of his own fucking bedroom, because he's ridiculous, and Mason's chest squeezes) and calls, "Still alive in here?" softly teasing, his voice carefully lowered in deference to Mason's throbbing skull.

He makes a rough noise and tosses aside the pillow, because the only thing better than being buried in Juni-perfumed sheets is taking in the scent of him right from the source.

Juni always looks so different when he's at home. He relaxes, softens, like a bird coming to roost. His shoulders aren't so tense, his eyes stop darting like he's waiting for an attack (something Mason noticed even before Juni was actually under attack every other week) and he just, he looks settled and safe. After the shit he’s been through, he deserves to feel safe.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mason just awkwardly squirms his way out of the blankets to free his arms enough to reach out.

"C'mere," he grunts.

Juni laughs, and the way his cheeks curve, the way they make his eyes crinkle at the corners, makes Mason hate whatever magic bullshit allowed him to get sick in the first place with a burning fury that feels like it's immolating him from the inside.

Or maybe that's the fever.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juni teases when Mason growls. It's not as fierce as he hoped it would be, which is more than obvious when Juni only smiles indulgently at him.

He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand over Mason's clammy forehead, making a soft, commiserating cooing noise. Mason wants to be annoyed, wants to growl again, complain about being coddled, but the sound that comes out of him is not a growl, or a curse, but a soft moan. He pushes up into Juni’s hand and closes his eyes.

“You’re still burning up,” Juni sighs, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s hair and scratching at his scalp. He moans again, lower and rougher. A little awkwardly, he adds, “Nate said you should, y’know, drink something.”

Mason’s stomach turns, and he grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Mason.”

He shakes his head again, turning his face into the pillow again when it starts to make him dizzy. He wants to break something. He feels so pitiful.

“Mason, you’re not gonna get better if you don’t—”

“You ever seen someone puke blood, detective?” he snaps. Juni’s hand retracts sharply, and Mason keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the hurt streaking across that soft, expressive face. “It’s not pretty,” he adds gruffly, and it takes all the strength in his flagging body to roll over and turn his back.

Juni’s quiet for a long moment, before soft fingers are sliding into his hair again,rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I had kind of a weird idea that might help, if you think you can stop pouting long enough to hear me out,” he says.

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?” Mason grumbles, but his body, an aching knot of sweaty tension, starts to slowly loosen up under the gentle petting.

Juni goes quiet again, and then, with a little laugh, he says, “Would it make you feel better if I told you you’re really cute when you’re all whiny?”

“How fucking dare you,” he snarls impotently into the pillow.

Juni laughs, and when Mason rolls over again to glower at him, he snorts trying to stifle it. “Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not exactly in any position to stop you, am I?” Mason scoffs.

The detective pokes his nose. “Nope!” Mason nips at his finger, but his reflexes aren’t exactly great at the moment, and Juni just pulls it back with a smile. “I wanted to ask before I, like, ruined one of your blood rations for a weird experiment, but I’ve been doing research on different recipes that use blood—” “Why?” Mason interjects.

Juni flounders a bit, shoulders drawing up to his ears. “I… Well, I know you don’t like to eat human food, for good reasons, but sometimes I can convince Felix and Adam to try stuff I make, and Nate likes to eat sometimes, and I like… I like cooking for people? And I can’t really do that for you, because I know how overwhelming your senses can be, but you’ve said they’re kind of dull right now, so I thought maybe I could make, well… sort of a blood soup?"

Mason blinks at the detective.

Juni nervously babbles on to fill his befuddled silence. "If I thinned it out with a mild broth, I figured it would go down easier. And I know ginger is really strong on its own, but it also settles the stomach, and with the blood and the broth, it might help? I thought about adding some other things, but I tried to be picky with it, because even if your senses are dulled, I don't want to overwhelm you."

Mason chews it over, and even though he can tell his silence is making Juni nervous with every second that ticks by (fidgety, fussy, open and honest to a goddamned fault, a ball of nerves Mason wants to drag into bed and shield from the world) he can't really think of much to say, except, "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

"That's okay! I figured it was a long shot anyway, and—" Juni freezes, his knee-jerk anxious capitulation cutting off like he’s run into a brick wall. "What?"

"I'm already overwhelmed, sweetheart," Mason groans, and honestly, even talking is getting exhausting, his aching throat protesting every word he can manage to eke out. He wants Juni closer, wants to bury his face in his neck and hide like a wounded animal crawling its way home. "It honestly can't get worse at this point. If you think it'll help, I'll try it."

Juni still looks stunned, but is also clearly jangling with nervous excitement. Nate's used the term "puppyish enthusiasm" before when describing the way Juni lights up when he's actually able to help, and it's almost comically accurate.

Juni's bolted from the room before Mason's sluggish brain has a chance to even process the humor at the observation into a snort.

He's alone again, and if Juni were still here, he'd call what Mason's doing pouting, but he's scowling, damn it. Not that anyone's around to see it save for Juni's stuffed animals. He pulls the pillow to his chest, half-burying himself underneath the blankets again. He keeps his foggy focus stretched far enough to hear Juni in the kitchen again, making a game effort not to clatter around noisily and failing spectacularly. It's the thought that counts, Mason supposes.

It doesn't actually take all that long for him to come back, but it still feels like ages with how shitty Mason feels. He's painfully aware of every single ache in his body, radiating down to his bones, of the fever burning him up, the mutinous turning of his stomach even as it gnaws itself apart with hunger. He’s becoming so bogged down in the prison his ailing body has become, he almost doesn’t notice Juni pattering his way back into the room. Almost.

The second he crosses the threshold, Mason senses are honing in on everything they can about him, his smell, his warmth, the way his cozy sweater (it’s midsummer, for fuck’s sake, and sure the AC is cranked due to Mason’s fever, but it always is, because Juni’s body regulates temperature like a goddamned lizard and he hates the heat almost more than Mason does) makes him look soft and touchable. It takes him a long while to even notice the detective is carrying a tea tray with a bowl on it, as well as a glass of water, and when he does, he’s honestly not sure what to make of the smell.

Human food is overwhelming, usually. But usually, Mason’s sinuses aren’t swollen and borderline useless. Juni is walking as carefully as he can, and there is a palpable relief when he sets the tray down on his bedside table without incident. “I made the broth already, because I didn’t want it to take too long if you said yes. It actually smells, like, really good? Is that gross of me to say?”

Mason tries to push himself upright, and his muscles protest loudly enough that he can’t quite bite back a grunt of pain. Juni makes a sound like he’s been shot, and his hands are on Mason with an urgency that vibrates through his skin. Still, his touch is an instant balm to the vampire’s overwrought senses, his hands gentle as they ease him upright and fussily pile pillows behind him to support him. It fucking sucks to be so weak, but at least it’s only Juni seeing him like this. He can’t quite express why, when it feels like his head’s stuffed full of cotton, but he thinks it would suck a lot more if he were riding this out alone, or in a sterile room at HQ. He lolls his head towards Juni, his cheek smashing against one of a half-dozen goddamned pillows piled around him, and laughs weakly. “Gonna feed me too, Nurse Fenn?”

Juni blushes, and the usual rush of his blood doesn’t smack Mason in the face like usual, but it washes over him in a gentle wave of warmth, that tempting smell tickling the back of his tongue. “Do you need me to?” he asks, and it’s pretty clear he’s trying to make it sound teasing, but it comes out much more earnest than anything else.

Mason almost wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want Juni to be in the splash zone if his stomach decides it can’t handle the detective’s little experiment. “Nah, I got it,” he grunts, reaching for the tray. It trembles dangerously when his shaking hands lift it, but Juni’s quick to steady it and guide it to his lap. He mutters a quiet thanks, and Juni mercifully doesn’t rib him for his uncharacteristic politeness. “You’d make a cute nurse, detective,” he says to cover the strangely loaded silence.

Juni laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “I’m too squeamish,” he offers with a shrug that rubs their shoulders together.

“You just made me soup out of blood,” Mason says dully.

“I also have a borderline breakdown giving myself the same shot I’ve been giving myself every week for the last decade,” Juni retorts. “Do you really think I could do it for someone else?”

Mason snorts. “Probably not. Would kill to see you in one of those little dresses, though.”

The only thing protecting Mason from getting a hilariously ineffectual swat on the shoulder is the bowl of soup in his lap. He’s not even sure his current feeble condition would be enough to stop Juni otherwise. “Eat your soup, asshole,” Juni groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He peeks through his fingers after a moment’s hesitation, “And maybe I’ll show you the Halloween costume Tina got me as a joke a couple years ago when you’re feeling better.”

Mason’s whole body reacts to that, and he can’t be sure if the chill that rolls down his spine is due to the illness, or something else entirely. If nothing else, choking down some soup will be worth it, just for that promise.

The first spoonful goes down surprisingly easy. He doesn’t really taste much, at first, not even the coppery tang of blood. It’s thin, as Juni promised, so it doesn’t quite coat his mouth the same way fresh, raw blood would. Juni’s watching him with obvious concern, eyebrows scrunched together and plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Either concern that Mason’s body is going to reject it fully, or he just won’t fucking like it. Probably both.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Juni asks, touching Mason’s knee lightly through the blanket. He swallows his mouthful hard and bites down the urge to ask the human not to stop touching him.

“S’fine,” he grunts, trying to parse what exactly he makes of it at all. The warmth feels nice, soothing his raw throat. He takes another bite. He thinks he can sort of make out the individual spices underneath the taste of the blood and the broth (slightly watered down bone broth, he;d guess) but he can’t really smell them either. The ginger, at least, is obvious. He knows the smell enough to guess the taste, even with the complete lack of culinary experience. It’s, strangely enough, not horrible. It does taste mostly like thinned-out blood, which is weird, and gives him a sense of dissonance from the texture he expects blood to have. “Weird.”

Juni doesn’t seem to take offense to that. “Well, you’re not spewing it across the room like you’re possessed, at least, so weird is better than bad?” he laughs, squeezing Mason’s knee. “How’s your stomach?”

Mason takes a second to consider. “Not great, but not terrible.”

Juni almost deflates with relief. “And the taste? It’s not too much, is it? I can be kind of heavy-handed with my seasoning, so I tried to be really careful. It’s really only a pinch of salt, sage, and ginger, with a little bit of licorice root, which I know is kind of weird, but it’s good for sore throats?”

“Tastes like…” Mason screws up his face, realizing he has absolutely no context to work with. “I don’t know. I think I like it?”

Juni smiles like the goddamned sun, and it somehow makes his snarky little pet name for Mason that much funnier. “Really?”

Mason’s not sure he’d be saying the same thing if his senses weren’t dulled to near-uselessness by his traitorous body, but the way Juni looks, like he couldn’t be happier to be dealing with a sick, cranky vampire hogging his bed and sweating in his sheets, makes him bite his tongue. There’s always a brightness to the human when he brings food to the warehouse for Nate and Felix, he smiles so wide his face almost cracks when Adam crumples under the weight of those puppy eyes and takes the smallest portion of whatever concoction Juni’s brought to nibble on, and offers the most awkward compliment he can manage. Juni just likes doing things for people, providing for them any way he can. Food is his usual go-to, but if he can help at all, he’s happy.

I can’t really do that for you.

It almost makes Mason wish he could enjoy whatever the detective whips up in his cramped little kitchen, just to make him smile.

Christ, his brain must be more addled than he thought.

He manages a few more spoonfuls of soup before his stomach starts to feel uncomfortably full, but the gnawing hunger of going too long without drinking has gone away, and he doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to puke like he did earlier. He feels heavy, and tired, and honestly that’s one hell of an improvement. Juni’s quick to take the tray and spirit it off back to the kitchen, bending to press a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek before he goes, and when he returns, the vampire is slumped in his pillow nest and half-asleep, eyes shuttered to thin slits.

He feels more than he sees Juni approach, and when a gentle hand smooths over his clammy forehead, he pushes up into it with a raw, weak noise he has zero energy to be embarrassed by anymore. He reaches out blindly, tangles his fingers in the knit of his detective’s sweater, and tugs. He can’t be sure how it happens, a jumble of movement and complaining muscles, but Juni winds up in bed with him, slouched comfortably against the pillows so Mason can rest his head on the soft curve of his belly. The human plays idly, sweetly with his hair, twirling damp curls around his fingers.

“I’m sweaty,” Mason halfheartedly protests. Juni’s stomach rises and falls beneath his head. It feels like being on the ocean, like being rocked to sleep on quiet waves.

“I don’t mind,” Juni murmurs, thumb stroking the shell of his ear.

Before he can think of anything to say to that, he’s being pulled under, dozing off between one breath and the next.

[prose-for-hire]

Always read your tea-leaves

Pairing: Giles x reader

Request: Requested by me! Reader comes and drinks tea on an afternoon with Giles every week. He soon finds out that reader hates tea and has just been doing it to spend time with him.

A/n: I had an ask asking if I included any personal experience in my fics, I hate tea so this is as explicitly autobiographical as my reader inserts will get (...that I’ll admit to anyway lol)💖💖

You adored Giles. You think now, looking back on it, you always had. He rendered you somewhat flustered and bashful when you realised you harboured feelings for him though. Which was wholly unlike you.

You were kind and polite but you weren’t usually afraid of speaking your mind or voicing your thoughts. Most people saw you as an open book and with your friends you definitely were.

But, most recently, with him you had been concerned of making the “correct impression”. Wanting him to think you were smart and witty. Had good humour and weren’t ridiculously shallow and watched a lot of tv. Which, he already knew you were guilty of and didn’t mind in the slightest - in fact he liked it because it gave him an excuse to watch with you.

It had fast become a routine of yours. A cherished moment you and he shared that could just be your own. He had invited you one afternoon to come over, he offered to brew one of his special teas. The kind that took a while to make rather than just shoving a tea bag in there and hoping for the best. There was some tiny sieve involved or something.

You had expected the entire gang to be invited but you realised it had just been you. Your heart skipped a beat, in fact it must have skipped several - you were sure it was loud enough to wake the dead. But you sorely hoped that it wouldn’t, hoping for uninterrupted time with the man you were interested in.

You loved his mind. His intelligence. That soothing tone he used, especially around you. He was a complete gentleman. So much so you didn’t realise just how much feeling he held for you.

Giles was in love. A feeling that he had become consumed by, in the very best way. He submitted to it wholly and just wished he had the courage to admit it. He wasn’t sure he would be pushing it, risking your friendship if he did and thus the dynamic of the entire group. You were older than the others but still a big part of the group so he didn’t wish to ruin this friendship he shared with you. It was too special.

You smiled and he asked what flavour tea you would prefer, listing the options. You decided to tell him that you trusted him and he should choose which made him smile at you.

The truth was in your excitement about being invited to his house, you had seemingly forgot something very important. You didn’t like tea. No matter what the flavour, temperature or how ethically sourced the leaves were - the taste just didn’t sit right.

In fact you couldn’t stand the stuff. You never had.

However, you didn’t want him to think you were rude or even decide not to invite you into his home this way again. So you just didn’t mention it. Instead, when he returned you thanked him in a perhaps slightly over exaggerated manner.

Not even the horrible taste of the tea could dampen the mood though, you and Giles discussed everything. Books and research. Mythology and demon lore. Even the latest tv show you had been enjoying that he now knew more of the plot than he knew what to do with. He adored hearing it though and you appeared to brighten when he encouraged you further.

You had been trying to avoid mentioning the tv but you had become so relaxed in his presence you couldn’t help gush. He put you at ease. He made you feel as if you were the only person in the world. In his world. And, on these afternoons you were. He adored them. Looked forward every week. Began to miss you as soon as you said your goodbyes.

It became a regular thing. You talking and pretending to drink tea. It was worth it to have him sitting so close. His attention was yours. That sweet affection growing with every syllable passed between you.

“I, ah, do enjoy your company” he murmured the most recent afternoon you shared. It had taken every scrap of courage he could muster to admit such a thing. As if he was professing too much even by thinking it. But he was so relaxed by your side that he said it through a gentle sigh.

You practically glowed, turning to him and smiling. He loved your smile more than anything. He was sure nothing could ever replicate your smile, not art nor literature. Much less so the way seeing this smile made him feel. It was wholly unique to you and he felt almost blessed to be in your presence.

“I love spending time here!” You nodded with that small smile he became entranced by. You had never meant something more.

You wanted to pour your feelings. The way the affection you held ran so deep. How you wanted to wrap your arms around him in a never ending embrace. You were sat beside him on the sofa now and you had both subconsciously leaned in. Your faces close together, you could feel his body heat radiating against you in his proximity. You wished to lean further still.

If you had moved even a fraction forwards, you would have brushed against him. Your face against his. A heavenly graze against his lips that would surely change the course of the future. Together you could rewrite prophecies. Bend fate to your will. It would be only you and him against it all. 

Your eyes fluttered to his lips before looking back to his eyes. You saw the way the corners upturned into a wry smile. One that he always had in your presence. Lips that spoke so eloquently. That spoke to your very mind. Words that made you feel safe. Tone that could be so strong and yet so tender at the same time.

You were about to reach for him, your hand started to move to slide against the side of his face but something made him jump up. The tea. He had forgotten about the tea. 

He left your side and you felt such loss. To have him ripped from your side, the potential of that moment left you simultaneously ridiculously hopeful and empty at the lack of contact with his skin at the same time. You were sure you had seen something in his eyes though, some glistening intention that he wished to kiss you too.

“Well, the-the tea should have finished brewing by now” he said, excusing himself and leaving you so disappointed. Not just because you were now faced with a further disappointment in liquid form.

He shook his head at himself as he busied in the kitchen. He had so wanted to kiss you. Pull you into him with such unwavering passion it almost made him dizzy. You made him feel so much. Even a minute in your presence turned him into a lovesick fool.

He brought the tea out and handed it to you. He sat further away from you now on a different seat. Having to distance himself or else it would be too much.

You couldn’t even trust your face to hide it though. It was the worst tasting one yet. So much so that when he turned his back you had to lean in and pour it into one of his houseplants. You silently apologised to it but it was either the plant or you. A true ethical decision had to be made, for the good of your blossoming relationship.

Your afternoons became interrupted once Giles received a house guest in the form of a defanged vampire. You still came to spend time with him but it wasn’t as intimate as it had been before. The only plus side was that he didn’t make as much tea because he was either arguing with spike or making him meals.

In fact the week previous you hadn’t even come to visit (through no fault of your own you had a prior engagement). But this left Giles sorely missing you and hating Spike even more. Not only because he was forced into watching Passions with him but because he feared that you felt neglected by him. That your friendship wasn’t what he wanted anymore. Which just wasn’t true.

There was a Scooby meeting and Spike was involved only so much as he was living out of the house and the tv was in the same room. You were supposed to be there but you were having to travel to Giles’ from the other side of town.

Giles was in a sour mood. Couldn’t make the move he so desperately wished he could. He just wanted you to be comfortable. To be happy and to feel just as strongly as him. He was sure you would have expressed an interest if you felt something. You were usually so bold, he admired your nature so much. 

Giles sighed and cleaned his glasses as he was in deep thought. His mind only ever wrapped around you at the moment. The close proximity you held but at such a disappointing distance. The Scoobies noticed this sigh and as always immediately pick him up on it. He didn’t even have to say anything, they just knew it was about you and your mutual pining.

“Well, have you even tried to make a move?” Buffy questioned with a little squint.

“We drink tea together...” He said vaguely which made the others laugh. He looked up, frowning at their reactions.

“There’s no way!”

“Well, ah, we do...” He said, putting his glasses back on and squinting back around the room at why this would be such a ridiculous notion. 

“Y/n hates tea, Giles” Willow answered honestly. She had to sit through one of your rants about it when she had offered it to you once.

“Yeah, even I know that. Doesn’t touch the stuff called me a freak of nature for even suggesting-” Spike began with a shrug, he didn’t even look up from the tv as he spoke.

“I think they called you that for offering a “secret ingredient”-”

“Blood compliments everything I’ll have you know” Spike pointed her way and she grimaced at how gross he was.

“Will you both stop babbling and allow me to think straight! Th-they don’t drink tea? Ever?” He asked, a furrow deepening on his brow. This meant something. Of course, it must do. But just what it meant, he couldn’t be entirely sure. He knew what he hoped it meant though.

“Never ever”

“Not unless...” Willow tailed off and everyone gave him a look as if to hint at what they meant. They were implying that his hopes were true. You liked him and took any excuse you could to spend time with him. 

“But they are usually so open about everything, especially matters of the heart”

“Well, love makes you do the whacky”

“They couldn’t possibly... hold such affection, ah, could they?” Giles, uncharacteristically pondered aloud which made Spike scoff. It couldn’t have been more obvious if you had a t-shirt printed that said ‘I heart Giles’ on it. In fact, the vampire was sure you probably had one. 

While everyone was talking Xander had moved towards the corner of the room where Giles’ usually dead looking plants looked more vibrant than ever. He was inspecting them. He had seen one too many movies and figured he might know the true extent to your tea drinking.

“Well, they might have mentioned something...”

“And I think I figured who’s been drinking your tea, G-man. Check out the little corner of horrors” Xander said, gesturing with his head at the jungle of plants. You had been feeding his plants with the tea. 

“And you thought the potted plants had magically started to grow. They’ve been bloody drinking tea!” Spike scoffed and rolled his eyes. But Giles wasn’t listening anymore. He was smiling at the idea that you had been pretending to enjoy drinking tea just to spend time with him. 

Just as this was revealed, you walked in closing the door behind you and calling into the room, “Hey guys sorry I’m... late” you tailed off glancing around the room. There was an unusual vibe as if 

“We’ll give you some space...”

“I won’t” Spike said unhelpfully, crossing his arms and smirking ready to watch a potential social disaster in the making. 

“You bloody well will” Giles warned. When the vampire didn’t move and Giles looked as if he may pop a blood vessel, Buffy sighed and hauled Spike into the bathroom with the others where they would sit and wait in their hurry to give you space.

“You don’t like tea?” He asked, barely hiding the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Oh... so you found out about that? I’m sorry, I was just so...” You nodded at yourself. It was long since time to admit this, “I was so excited that you wanted to spend time with me alone that I forgot and then it had been too long... I didn’t want you to think any less of me” You said slowly, looking at the ground.

“I, uh, just wish I had known your feelings. It would have made it much easier to gauge whether you were interested”

“Giles-” You said, taking his hand in yours. You liked the way they looked clasped together in this way. 

“Rupert, please” he offered comfortingly, rubbing his thumb against your hand which made you smile down at your entwined hands.

“Rupert, I love you... I think I always have”

“And I love you” He admitted, one hand sliding up your upper arm. The other moving to cup your cheek. This had been everything you had both wanted for so long. You and him. Like this.

You leaned in, catching his lips with yours. He grasped the hair at the base of your skull, willing you closer. This kiss was the sweetest, it tasted better than you ever could have imagined. It brightened your soul. Made your heart beat more rhythmically. In perfect timing with his. 

You parted briefly, but he couldn’t help pressing light kisses against your cheek, trailing a path to the corner of your mouth as you spoke. He wished to cherish you in the way he felt you so deserved. Couldn’t move from your contact, not now he knew how you felt this as deeply as him. It was real. So real and he couldn’t waste a moment of it.

“We should have read our tea-leaves” You smiled, you were so sure that they would have told you that you were meant for each other. It would have at least meant that drinking your water-weight in tea would have been worth it. Either way though, of course it was worth it. Because it meant you spent time with him. Got to know him in this way.

He nodded gently but he didn’t wish to speak now. He just wished to show you his devotion. His lips had barely moved from your skin as your shared admittance enveloped you. He caught your lips again, such tenderness evident in his kisses. He wished for you to feel just how passionately he loved you. He fit so perfectly against you.

“Can we come out now?!” Buffy shouted from the bathroom where the others were all crushed in together but neither of you heard her. You were too wrapped up in each other.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

The Dragon and the Angel

Sephiroth was in his room, reading a book about the history of Eos and the nations of Lucis, Accordo, Tenebrae and Niflheim and sipping more of his favorite drink, Jenova Fruitjuice Tea with a few droplets of Lifestream extract for a minty aftertaste. His room was set up to be a study and adorned with paintings of memories back home like when he burned down Cloud’s home, though most of the paintings of his dear mom, Jenova. 

He was interrupted from his reading when there was a knock at his door, sensing it wasn’t his favorite buddy Cloud, he chose to ignore it, not bothering to waste time on lesser beings. The person on the other side knocked again, this time a bit harder as the wood of the door creaked a bit. A third knocking made Sephiroth snap his book shut in annoyance and respond.

“Im not in the mood for company, woman.” He figured it was Rhea again after her little failed attempt at wooing him and still wanting him. He wasnt one for connections, after all he was a superior being and didn’t bother wasting his time with lesser lifeforms, unless their name was Cloud Strife. He knew the woman would return as he sensed her draconic aura behind the door. However he was surprised when black mist began seeping through the door and condensing before him, the mist coming together and forming the crimson and black cloaked figure of the resident Vampire Overlord, no not Mathias Cronqvist, Gabriel Belmont, and going off of his demeanor and gaze, he wasn’t in the mood for being denied an audience with the One-Winged Angel. “Evening, i hope you don’t mind me stopping by and desiring a chat with you, Sephiroth.” The vampire politely greeted Sephiroth who was smiling to his guest as he reached for his tea cup. “To what do i owe the pleasure for the visit, Gabriel, is this about your little grandchild, Rhea, i believe her name was? Quite the beauty i’ll admit, but not my type, too human…” sipping his tea as Gabriel just raised a brow at the silverette’s words.  “Quite funny you should mention that, and ironic, considering your own concievment and upbringing.” Gabriel replied with his hands behind his back, not moving an inch as his words registered with the Ex-SOLDIER. Serpiroth set down his tea and his full attention was on the vampire now. 

“Oh i can assure you, my mother is much more than a simple human, she-"  "Your mother and father were both humans, both brilliant in their fields of work, though from what i gather, Professer Hojo is a bit of a nutcase and Ms. Crescent is imprsoned on her own terms and suffering major guilt for her actions over many things, including you. Like them you are human, your not even a Cetra like Ms. Gainsborough-Fair, human blood runs through your veins as much as the blood of the alien parasite you cling to so desperately for validation and approval, which was injected into you at such an early time that you suffer from it quite clearly. Your blind to the truth, your ‘dear mother’ only sees you as a means to an end, to consume this world and move on. Course thats not to be as she’s currently a useless corpse who'se entire presence has been wiped clean thanks to Mr. Strife and his companions, they also dealt with your machinations if im right on the details.” Gabriel brought his right hand up to cup his bearded chin as if in thought, sensing he struck a chord within Sephiroth as he felt the slow rise of power. “Is there a point to your visit, vampire, or have you come to mock my mother and hope for a slow death?” Sephiroth asked with a light frown, saw what you will about him and his true parentage, he had no care for them, but insult mommy Jenova in his presence, then it gets personal. Gabriel just shrugged and spoke up after glancing around to all the paintings in the room.

“Mocking? Oh no, you see i prefer to give truths and complete honesty when it comes to chatting about matters such as this. I understand your rejection to my dear Rhea and respect your decision, not everyone desires for companionship, be it platonic or sexual in nature. But would it really kill you again to at least open up that black heart of yours a little bit and make an aquaintance or two, or do you have a bit more of Hojo in you than you like to admit?” Gabriel asked as he heard all about the legendary Sephiroth, as the library in the Smash Mansion hosted a variety of knowledge from fighters to the small details of even the most mundane things. He also knew of his defeat and death, multiple deaths, at the hands of Cloud and his friends. Sephiroth folded his arms over his chest and while a bit annoyed by Gabriel poking the hornet’s nest in regards to Jenova, he asked anyway, “And why should I, I seem to recall you yourself are of higher status than others, but you were once human as well, don’t prattle to me about opening up and befriending others when you yourself keep within your castle and avoid mostly everyone like the plague, hypocrite.” he shot back as Gabriel just gave a light chuckle, not even denying that Sephiroth’s words were false. 

“You’re right, I was at first, but I confess, Palutena is very tenacious and managed to open me up again, Ganondorf is always pleasant to hang out with and Cereza is just a treat to be around, all in all, i quite enjoy my group of friends. Im sure if you try you could make some surprising friends around here, while sure they can’t replace dear Genesis and Angeal, it wouldn’t hurt to form new friendships, how do you think Mr. Strife and his team were so equipped to stop you and your goals? If you ask me, you might be the better swordsman, but Cloud clearly is the better fighter, perhaps Jenova should have chosen him to be her son, he clearly is much more capable than you are, Mr. Best-Soldier-Ever~” Gabriel smirked with the jab as Masamune was summoned in Sephiroth’s hand and speared through Gabriel’s chest, through his heart and out his back.  Sephiroth blinked as he didn’t hear the cry of agony that he was so accustomed to when cutting people down with his weapon, instead he was greeted with a smiling Gabriel, blade run through his torso as he wasn’t even bothered by it, he just took a step closer as the blade went further through and Sephiroth found himself close to Gabriel, Masamune about to be yanked free by its owner, but stopped when Gabriel’s cold hand clasped around Sephiroth’s wrist. “You’re angry, that good, shows that you haven’t completely discarded your humanity, and nice shot, you cut through my heart in an angle that severed the veins and arteries. But as you can clearly see, im a lot harder to kill. Now put away your washing pole and we can turn this little chat into something more appealing.” Gabriel yanked Masamune out of his body and his blood returned into him as his wound ehaled away, Sephiroth setting his weapon aside as Gabriel summoned a chair and sat down across from Sephiroth now. “Seeing as you made your grand entrance by killing off Galeem, i figure we can start by getting to know each other, from one god slayer to another.” Gabriel offered as he summoned a goblet of blood for himself. Sephiroth thought for a bit then shrugged, why not entertain this idea and see what becomes of it. -Later-

Rhea was carrying a few books she wanted to check out from the library and bring into Garreg Mach, both to help Byleth and Bylethe with their teacher duties and also for herself as she was an avid book reader in her spare time and having access to the many books about various realms and more intrigued her greatly. As she turned the corner of an isle, she bumped into someone she didn’t expect to see again, Sephiroth.

“Excuse me, didn’t see you there, here allow me.” Sephiroth greeted and knelt down as he collected her scattered books and then offered a hand to help Rhea up, she was a bit unsure but took his hand anyway and dusted herself off.

“No worries, i was more focused on my books, what brings you here, Mr. Sephiroth, you enjoy literature as well?” She asked

“I do, i read often when not participating in fights. I actually came here looking for you, Lady Rhea.” At her slightly puzzled look, he explained, “I wish to apologize for how rudely i replied to your advancements earlier. Its not that i think your repulsive or anything, its just that form where I'm from and what I’ve lived through, I’ve not the time or interests for such relationships.” He said as Rhea took that in and looked down, while yes she did manage to get over the heartbreak of rejection, she still found him interesting and couldn’t help but want to know the elusive and scary individual that as Sephiroth. “However, I am not opposed to the suggestion of making acquaintances, or friends if you would prefer.” He said as this had Rhea look back to him with surprise, studying him for any false pretenses as he held a rather calm smile that wasn’t mean. She smiled and looped an arm around his as she guided the black clad man around and started asking some questions on what type of stuff he liked to read. Needless to say, this was the start of an odd but blooming friendship.

-With Gabriel-

“Wow, thats new, here i thought he was a giant asshole for the sake of being one.” Sothis remarked as Palutena’s party were all having lunch and Sothis had tagged along at Palutena’s insistience and the group was watching Rhea and Sephiroth pick out books and go over what interests them in reading. Trevor was there too as he figured to spend more time with dad and the goddess who clearly helped him love again, that and Ganon’s kids were rubbing off on him. 

“Looks like the mamasboy had a change of heart and decided to stop being a prick, i wonder if that had anything to do with you, darling?” Bayonetta asked as her eyes shifted from the crystalball on Palutena’s staff showing them the new friends to Gabriel as he was enjoying his burger. 

“It did, we had a nice heart to heart and i convinced him that it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends around. Besides, im sure Mr. Strife would enjoy not being constantly followed around by his rival.” He said before taking another bite of his food. Alucard just chuckled and quipped.

“Surprised you didn’t threaten to tear out his wing, father. you usually resort to violence when people get stubborn and don’t want to change.” the vampire son snarked out as Gabriel just rolled his eyes.

Come now, my boy, i can be civil and persuasive when i want to be. Besides, i also promised him a good fight if he made friends with your niece.“ He added as this got Ganondorf thinking of how he could promote this and make money, The Dragon vs the One Winged Angel, sounds enticing.

[insertsexualitypun]

Some things I want from Legacies S3

This is going to be all over the place and pretty long. This’ll start with the general storyline things, then get down into smaller character arcs and whatnot. I’ll try to keep it somewhat organized and grouped by character but I make no promises. Also if you wanna talk about any of these feel free to dm! I’m incredibly bored in quarantine and would love to chat

- An introduction of a greater storyline past Malivore and moving away from the monster of the week thing. I know Legacies is supposed to be something different from TVD and TO, and the monster of the week concept is an interesting way to explore the universe past what we already knew, but with the premise as it exists and has been carried out now, it’s hard to develop the characters and relationships. If the characters are fighting new things every week, that makes it hard to give characters like MG and Kaleb their own stories. With a villain to anchor the season as the Big Bad, we can get characters that haven’t been given much of their own storyline a way to get more screentime as they go try and find someone or something with answers.

- GIVE HOPE HER OWN STORYLINE PAST BEING THE HERO/MARTYR AND BEING IN LOVE WITH LANDON. Hope is supposed to be the main character but this doesn’t feel like her story. As awesome as it is seeing Hope be a badass and fight monsters, I want more development from her as a person.

- Kind of ties back into the last one, but let Hope have more Dark moments like the Death Spell incident. Moments that show that while she isn’t just another Klaus, she still shares some of his tendencies towards violence and lashing out. This could work really well if they decide to keep Landon out of the picture for a few episodes.

- Let Hope and Landon break up amicably (assuming Landon isn’t really dead which let’s be real he probably isn’t) so that, again, they can grow as people. Then, if you want, they can get back together. Or just stay broken up and be friends

-  A resolution to the Necromancer - he’s a fun character and while I think he’d be fun to have around for a bit, I don’t think he’s an anchoring villain for a season. Plus to me I kinda figured that they were gonna wrap up his storyline in the last 3 episodes that they didn’t get to film before the production shutdown so chances are we’re getting this anyway.

- Either bring back Ethan, Maya and Mac more prominently, or don’t bring them back at all. Don’t get me wrong, I like the town normies storyline when it comes up, but it doesn’t come up much. Apparently, they were supposed to be in the last 3 episodes more but who knows. With the show already feeling kinda crowded (because again, the format of the show now doesn’t really allow for a ton of characters since they aren’t significantly developing, especially when these characters are in a setting completely removed from the main action of the show’s narrative), either have the normies for more than just getting caught in a magical crossfire, or put them to the side and focus on who you have at the school.

- The TVDU has progressed past the need for Alaric. That’s all I’ll say.

- The show being a little more self aware at the ridiculousness of it all. Like yeah, it’s not completely without that, but the last thing we need is the show devolving into a Riverdale, where the first season was aware of the ridiculous nature of itself, and then it started to take itself way too seriously.

- MORE LGBTQ+ REP. The show has done fairly well thus far compared to other CW shows but there’s still so much than can be done. The show doesn’t need to have show-stopping coming out storylines or anything - it’s actually the opposite. We get the casual drop of Josie having dated Penelope in the first episode of the show which was great. So let’s have more simple stuff like that. More mentions at crushes and other past romances - for all characters - that just allow for other sexualities to be normalized and not some earth shattering thing. 

- This ties into the last one but I felt like it deserved its own bullet, but also what is V NEEDED is rep of trans, genderfluid and non-binary characters. Again, it doesn’t have to be a huge storyline, but it’d be nice to have some recurring characters who are not cis. The show is meant to be set in a near future, so I think it’d be nice to show a normalized view on differing gender expression and sexuality as sort of a hope that such a future will exist.

- Hope loving beignets, eating/wanting to eat them all the time, and getting powdered sugar all over her dark clothes from them. Chances are, if you’re from/have been to NOLA, you’ve tried beignets and loved them because they’re amazing. SO LET HOPE HAVE HER BEIGNETS DAMN IT.

- More Wolf Hope moments. Let her turn more and just run because it let’s her feel more connected to Hayley :’( also the Crescent birth mark if that was ever a thing for Hope... I can’t remember, I’ve seen different things about it, lmk (politely) if that was ever a thing that Hope had

- Hope painting and sketching. It’s one of the few connections she still has with Klaus, SO LET HER EXPRESS HERSELF DAMN IT. (Yes, any time I say SO in all caps I need to end the sentence with DAMN IT, it’s a Thing now)

- MIKAELSON FAMILY MENTIONS AND APPEARANCES. Granted this one is different because there are real life schedules and whatnot that need to align, but even just more mentions of Mikaelson family members and others like Vincent would be nice. Yeah we’ve had some in the past, but it would still be nice to get some more. Also at least a mention of Rebekah and Kol checking in on Hope (assuming the writers aren’t going to pull something dumb like ‘oh the memory spell doesn’t work long distance like that so they still don’t remember her’)

- Hope also talking more about Hayley, Elijah, and Klaus. Again, feeling connected to her mom every time she’s a wolf. Always and forever, like Elijah always said. Telling stories about her father that put him in a better light than just being “The Great Evil” of storybooks.

- Hope being open with her friends about her past and how TERRIBLE it was a lot of the time like, y’know, people trying to kill her before she was even BORN.

- I’ve said this before in a separate post (which I’ll link at some point so expect an edit to this post) but I’d love for something to happen and for Hope to leave the school and go to NOLA and stay with Freya, Keelin and Nik because she’s tired of having to be the savior and still not saving everyone. (Also in that post it says Alaric comes and gets her and brings her back to the Salvatore School but we’ve progressed past the need for him in the TVDU so instead it’ll be the twins)

- Hizzie moments because whether you like them as romantically or just as friends, they are a DUO and we deserve more iconic sarcasm as well as genuine moments of friendship and caring

- Lizzie being the absolute Queen of Comedy

- But more importantly, Lizzie being more open about her issues and taking steps to have better mental health.

- Lizzie and MG having more open conversations and letting a relationship develop naturally - yes there has been a lot of development since season 1 but I feel like they both have a bit of growth to go before they should enter a relationship, if that’s something that happens

- Lizzie being happily single for a bit and not going for a guy that’s going to try and turn her into a vamp and keep her in a prison world 

- MG and Kaleb getting proper storylines or at least more play than just being the Local Vampires who help depending on the situation. They deserve WAY more than that

- ALSO MG and Kaleb backstories. How did they die and how did they get vampire blood in their system to keep them from dying permanently?

- Josie dealing with what happened pre and post Dark Josie and facing that she has always had some darkness in her. Yeah the dark magic definitely didn’t help, but she was willing to perform a spell that she didn’t know on a human over a football game and ended up breaking his arm. Not to mention, she was setting Penelope on fire as early as the first episode. It seems like we’re getting this since Josie locked away her magic in the last episode, but still, I don’t want this to just be a one episode reflection and then move on like she didn’t cause a lot of harm.

- More Hosie crumbs

- More Jade. OK admittedly this is probably really due to the fact that Giorgia Whigham is a Big Crush for me, but also the show really did start integrating her in a bit more with the black and white episode, which makes me think they’re keeping her around at least for a little bit. And I think she and Josie dating at least for a little while would be good for both of them. Jade was a ripper for 10 years in the prison world, and Josie was just consumed by dark magic and is now coming back from that. I think they’re a good (probably short-term) pairing that will help each other grow, but eventually break up because they just aren’t it for each other. And I saw this elsewhere on here, but someone pointed out that Jade could do what Penelope tried to do, but in a healthier way. Yes, Penelope was trying to put Josie first and show her her power and importance, but there’s a way to do that without gaslighting her sister and being manipulative. Sorry, I did not mean for this one to be so long.

- More Specialty episodes. The black and white episode was really fun in my opinion, and the show doesn’t have to be like that all the time, but stuff like that keeps the show interesting, as long as it makes sense within the context of the episode and storyline.

- Josie wearing the necklace Hope gave her

- I haven’t mentioned Rafael much and that’s because, despite being a main character, he hasn’t really done much besides run away with Landon, and feel guilty about having a crush on Hope. He’s personally not a favorite character of mine, but I think if he got more of a storyline - likely revolving around the fact that he was dead and being used as a pawn, as well as the fact that he possibly (but probably didn’t) kill Landon - it’d help give more to like about him.

- Caroline having a better reason for being away from the school than just researching the Merge. Like, her daughters have been fighting monsters, Josie almost died at the end of season 1, they were trapped in a prison world, Josie succumbed to Dark Magic, THEY LITERALLY HAD A MERGE EVENT and she’s still gone??? That’s not the Caroline we know. If she’s going to be gone (because like I said before, it all depends on Candice’s availability and willingness to come back), at least come up with something different than researching something her daughters have already done by this point.

- Since Landon’s not dead, let him unlock his full Phoenix powers. It’d be cool.

- Let’s have one season where Landon doesn’t run away like we don’t all know that he’s gonna be back within like 2 episodes if that

- More Dorian. I actually really like his character, he’s kind of a breath of fresh air sometimes so I’d like more scenes with him when possible

- A conclusion to Malivore and intro of a new villain. I kinda covered this earlier, but at this point, unless Malivore is going to become a tangible entity to fight instead of some black goo, it’s not a very interesting story thread to keep around for the next however many seasons Legacies goes on for.

Whew.

Ok, that’s all I can think of, but feel free to reblog and add more if there’s other stuff you’d like to see!

[timeforelfnonsense]

Lost and Found

Astarion x Dafni 

Rating: T

Hurt/Comfort

TW for depression mention 

Ao3

I’ve been working on this bad boy for a month and it’s done at last!

 An important note: There is some reference to the Lolth Sworn drow in this and I feel the need to clear the air and state that I have some issues with the way WotC characterizes the drow as inherently evil. My house rules are that none of the races are inherently evil because the broad strokes in the source material as problematic af. So while the followers of Lolth might be evil I want to make it clear that doesn't equal all drow are bad. Dafni holds all varieties of elves in tender regard. As an eladrin of the fey wilds and a follower of Corellon she understands that fluid and changing nature of all living things. Life is messy and people do not fit into boxes, very few folks are all bad or all god. Not every elf worships the Seldarine and that’s ok. A fundamental part of Corellon is freedom and choice therefore it would be foolish to insist her path is the only right one. Her issue is with Lolth not the drow as a whole.

The Underdark was a horrid and forsaken place. A shudder ran down Dafni’s spine as she rubbed away the gooseflesh cropping up across her arms. Lolth’s influence hung heavy in the stale air. She would have to step lightly. A cleric of Corellon would be a great prize to the followers of the Spider Queen. She missed the warm sun on her face, the feeling of grass beneath her bare feet. She could feel herself wilting under the oppressive darkness that surrounded them.

Anxiety was a strange and forging feeling. The majority of her 160 years had been spent embodying the playful delight of spring. Perhaps it was on account of her relative youth. Or, maybe it was the influence of Corellon Larethian, whose wild and wonderful influence she had felt all her life. He had looked out for her. Cared for her as a father would his child. Truly, Corellon felt as much a parent to her as her mother, Thesmia did. A meek half-smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He had given her a reason to leave home when the wanderlust became far too much for her to contain. If she was to flourish as both an elf and a divine servant, Dafni would need to truly know herself beyond being Thesmia’s shadow. Absentmindedly her fingers reached for the familiar crescent moon that hung from her neck.

Her feet skidded to a halt, her trembling hand pulled away empty. Her blood turned to ice. An agonizing dagger of guilt pierced her heart and she felt as though the ground beneath her would open up and swallow her whole. Part of her wished that it would. She had carried the holy symbol since she was a young girl. Though she knew in her soul it had been her’s even before that. It had served as her connection not just to her god, but her heritage and primal spirit- The very essence of her being. 

“I lost it.” Her voice was less than a whisper, stunned and distant. Tears began to well up in her eyes. The world around her was growing colder by the second. “My amulet is gone.” Her breath began to come out in heaves and she began to sob in earnest. “It- It must have gotten lost when the minotaur tossed me!” 

 Her sharp cry stopped her traveling companions in their tracks. Each of their faces dressed in varying degrees of confusion and concern. Gale began to speak but his words were drowned out but the low ringing in her ears. A dizzy, sickening feeling bloomed in her gut and the edges of her vision began to blur as the darkness she had so feared gripped her soul.

They had doubled back to the old Selûnite fort. The others were still there setting up a temporary camp. Shadowheart hadn’t been able to find anything physically wrong with her aside from the normal bumps and scrapes that were to be expected on an active adventurer. 

Astarion felt truly helpless for the first time since he’d escaped Cazador’s clutches. It had been an hour and Dafni had yet to wake. He clasped her hand in his. A soft blue had slowly been spreading over her sage-green skin, creeping its way from the tips of her fingers to the crown of her head. Her locks were shifting at the root from rosy pink to a frosty teal. The flowers that wove through her loose ponytail had all weathered into dust. 

He squeezed her hand, “Come on Daffodil…”

Gale had been fairly positive that this was, to some extent normal for the eladrin of the Feywilds. Something about a book he’d read by some notable wizard? Truth be told Astarion hadn’t been paying much attention. He was too busy staring down Lae’zel, who’s paranoia filled gaze had been locked on Dafni’s sleeping form from the moment they’d returned. 

He should have been annoyed at her. The loss of some silly costume jewelry had caused her to swoon like a high born lady. He knew she was made of stronger stuff than that. Her little spell had put them all behind and left them without a healer the whole trek back to the fort. Yet, try as he might Astarion couldn’t seem to conjure up the ire he held for those too weak to survive hardship on their own.

 He groaned, letting his head hit the wall behind him with a soft thunk. There it was again- That damn sentimentality! By the Hells, he was a vampire, not a nursemaid! What had gotten into him? 

“You should rest.” Wyll placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll keep an eye on her for a bit.” 

His eyes went narrow, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The idea of leaving her while she was vulnerable made his blood boil. 

I’ll watch your back and you watch mine…

Her promise echoed through his thoughts. Dafni had held her end of the bargain with unwavering resolve. If he left now it would feel too much like betraying the one person he’d allowed even a fragment of trust in the past two centuries.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t an appropriate reaction.” He muttered while he whisked away an icy tear from her cheek. “I’m just a bit... Out of sorts.” 

Wyll nodded, taking a seat on the dusty floor beside him, “Hey, she’s tough. She’ll pull through, whatever this is.” The warlock gave him an almost smug look, “You really care for her don’t you?” 

“I hardly see how that’s any of your concern.” He sneered with a wave of his hand, “Besides, my concern is simply a matter of pragmatism. Our little band of misfits can’t afford to lose our best healer-” Astarion hesitated for a moment before adding, “Don’t tell Shadowheart I said that. We need not add my body to the pile- Should things go poorly.” 

“If I promise not to sell you out will you take a break?” 

For the first time since she had fainted, he noticed the scratchy dryness in his throat. Astarion scowled, there was little in the way of appetizing food that he had seen but he would just have to make due. He was loathed to leave her side but Wyll was a good man, a better one than him in truth. He would keep her safe. 

“What’s this? The legendary Blade of the Frontiers, stooping to common blackmail.” He tried to keep his tone flat but he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips, “Fine, I’ll take a break. I’m a bit parched anyway. I suppose I’ll try to track something palatable down here. Unless…”

 He arched an eyebrow towards Wyll who moved away with an overstated scoot. 

“Not a chance, now go!” 

Cold. 

A crushing, all-consuming chill wrapped its arms around her spirit. Spring had left her. Now she stood alone in the isolating melancholy of winter. She reached out for the familiar warmth of The Protector but here- In this cursed place his influence felt far and foreign. If only she had her holy amulet. It could have served as a compass leading her back to Corellon’s embrace. She would simply have to press on. She had put them behind already and there was no time for sentiment. She wouldn’t be able to cast spells until she found a replacement and the chances of a spare symbol of her god in the Underdark were laughable. Dafni tried to sniff back the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes but it was no use. They rolled down her baby blue cheeks freezing before they could fall to the ground. She glanced up at Astarion, who walked a few paces ahead. While Gale and Wyll had spent the better part of a day coddling her, he had remained distant. 

Maybe he didn’t want her like this? Her sadness threatened to consume anyone near her and he had enough grief of his own. He had admitted once that he enjoyed having her near. Whispered in her ear that she was sunlight and happiness made flesh as he took her in a flower patch of her own creation. 

The feeling of a gentle hand pulled her from her thoughts. Gale offered her a small smile before speaking, “Are you all right?” 

“Oh-” She sniffed, whipping away another frozen tear, “I’ll be alright. I just don’t feel much like myself right now.” 

Gale nodded in response, “Yes, I can see that. Perhaps we shouldn’t have brought you here. The Underdark does seem quite at conflict with the very core of your being.”

A mournful laugh escaped her aching chest, “I don’t think we’d have had any better luck with that shadow curse above ground. No, my sorrow isn’t a good enough reason to risk the rest of the group’s safety.” She brought an icy hand to Gale's cheek, causing him to shiver, “I appreciate your concern but really I’ll be alright. We eladrin are ruled by our emotions, a shift of season was inevitable at some point or another. It’s unfortunate for the rest of you it had to be winter. Things are dire enough without my sorrowful presence bringing you all down with me. Perhaps it would be best for all of you to keep your distance.”

 She sighed, her eyes falling on Astarion, who lingered just on the edge of the bitter cold her sadness created. While it pained her to say it, she knew he was right to keep away. The others should do the same if they were wise. Gale gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“He’s a funny one, Astarion.” Gale mused, “Wyll told me he had to resort to extortion to pry him from your side while you were out. Yet, today he acts as if you have the plague.”

A small snort of laughter broke past her tears, “Extortion?” 

“I believe comments were made comparing Shadowheart’s healing abilities to your own. Wyll offended his silence in exchange for Astarion taking a break.”

“That’s not fair to her.” Dafni sniffed, “She’s not a life cleric, she does her best.” 

“You have a good heart, Dafni.” Gale said giving her arm a squeeze, “My point is I think he cares about you, in his own odd way. At the very least he’s far more pleasant when you are around”

“You really think so?” 

“I do,” Gale assured, “he’d have to be the biggest fool in Faerûn not to see how wonderful you are.” 

Dafni felt a bit of warmth return to her heart. Not enough to thaw her sorrows but it was a start. Gale’s words helped her sort through the chaos of her mind as they had so many times before. He was a loyal and kind friend, as was Wyll. Shadowheart too despite her evasive and secretive nature. Even Lae’zel had warmed to her as best she was able despite their differences. There was a solace to be found in the support of her peers. She wasn’t so alone after all.

The sound of her laugh hit Astartion like a battering ram. She seemed to be in slightly better spirits since arriving in the Myconid Circle. She floated about the fungus folk with an easy familiarity. It seemed being among the vibrant plants and creatures of grotto had offered her some sense of normalcy. He looked over his shoulder to see what had coaxed a giggle from her (no matter how pitiful and melancholy it sounded). A sharp twinge of jealousy ran down his spine as he watched Dafni stroke Gale’s cheek with a somber smile. 

He bit the feeling back. It was better for them both if he kept his distance. Gentle kindness was hardly his strong suit. Gods, he was a disaster. How many times had she offered him comfort even when he spurned her? She had given so freely to him, her kindness, the warmth of her bed, the very blood in her veins. And there he was relying on someone else to comfort his lover.   

 Dafni was a resilient little thing. So optimistic and sweet it made his teeth hurt. It was disorienting to see her so morose. He had learned the boundaries of her emotional aura rather quickly. He had noticed an unfamiliar warm feeling that first night at camp. He found himself lingering near her as often as he could after that. Savoring the tender happiness that radiated from off of her. She had told him it was simply part of her nature. A charming quirk he’d grown to enjoy a great deal. But now he could feel her heavy sorrow as if it were his own and he longed to make her hurt go away.  

Damn sentimentality.

He had his own worries. He didn’t need to take on hers as well. She didn’t need him to coddle her. And more importantly, he most certainly was not beholden to her contentment for his own survival despite his halfwit heart’s insistence to the contrary. She was making him soft. It was ridiculous! He was far too old to be fretting over her like a lovelorn sprat. 

It must be the tadpole. Her compassion must have wormed its way into his brain somehow. That was the only logical explanation.

He needed to clear his head and get some distance between them so he could feel more himself. He wandered aimlessly about the grotto as he attempted to show away any feelings of softhearted sympathy but it was no use. He rubbed his temples and let out a frustrated huff. He should never have taken that first taste of her. She’d become an irresistible craving from that moment on. It wasn’t just her blood, but every aspect of her that called to him. Inviting him to take refuge in her affections. He could feel himself lowering his guard a little bit more each day despite his efforts to keep her at arm's length. She’d flash him that beguiling little grin, her topaz eyes brimming over with admiration and he would find himself tempted to let her just another inch closer. He’d known she was dangerous from the moment he clapped eyes on her in the wreckage of the crash. He’d prepared himself for a stake to the heart but the infatuation she had inspired in him was infinitely more frightening and possible just as deadly.

He made his way to the alcove where the Society of Brilliance had set up shop. The strange hobgoblin had mentioned something to the party about being a collector of magical items and oddities. Walking had failed to rid him of his frustrations perhaps shopping would. 

A glimmer caught his eye as he approached the cluttered stall. There, on the table was a familiar silver amulet. He was going to get it back for her and pray the gesture was enough to curb his need to see her happy. He could swipe it easily enough but he didn’t want to draw trouble to Dafni if she was spotted wearing it. No, charm and a dash of intimidation would be his best shot.

“Excuse me,” He smiled wide allowing for a slight flash of his fangs, “I was hoping you would be willing to part with that necklace.”

“A vampire interested in the acquisition of a holy symbol?” 

“Yes, it’s very ironic.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Now, how much do you want for the damn thing?”

“Well, first time for everything.” the hobgoblin shrugged, “You have a good eye, this is very unique. It’s forged from mithral and inlaId with sylvan moonstones. The holy symbol of Corellon is more commonly depicted as an eight-pointed star these days rather than the crescent moon. Meaning this item is very old indeed! It was brought in just yesterday. I would be hesitant to sell it but my research does require more funding. How does 900 gold sound?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you but ‘very old’ is a relative term when it comes to items of elvish origin.” He kept his tone flat and unimpressed, “Long-lived people do tend to hold onto things.” 

“Ah, but you’ll find this is more than your average antique! Judging by the craftsmanship I would say it dates back to the time of the primal elves.”

Shit. 

Of course, her necklace had much more than sentimental value. He had hoped for a quick haggle but it seemed he was going to have to work for it. He really didn’t have that much coin on him, nor was he inclined to spend it on something that was not rightfully the hobgoblin’s to sell. He raffled through his mind searching for a thinly veiled threat or convincing argument to lower the price until the perfect mixture of the two dawned on him.

Astarion let out a droll hum as he checked his nails with casual disinterest. He spoke in a low, blasé voice, “You said before you weren’t much for combat? Don’t you think it’s risky, carrying around a holy item of Corellon in the den of the Spider Queen? It would be such a shame if something were to happen to you at the hands of a zealot. Really I’m doing you a favor by purchasing it. I’ve crossed swords with the Lolth sworn before they are merciless and skilled fighters almost as dangerous and bloodthirsty as vampires.”

He let a wicked bark of laughter. A bemused expression flickering across his face. He could smell the fear stirring in the timid merchant. It would seem he hadn’t lost his edge after all.  

Blurg swallowed hard before mustering a response, “ Ah- I hadn’t thought about that...”

Dafni sat cross-legged on the ramparts of the fort fletching a new batch of arrows. She’d need more to compensate for her lack of magic for the time being. She’d spent the whole trek back to their camp scanning the ground for her necklace but it had all been for not. She’d just have to accept the fact it was gone no matter how much it broke her heart. 

“There you are, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

 The sound of Astarion’s voice caused her to jump, tossing her arrow down with a start. Dafni clutched her chest shooting him a sharp look. He only laughed, his infuriating gorgeous face fixed in a grin that reminded her of a satyr who stumbled upon a river of bathing nymphs. He dipped to his knees placing a hungry kiss on her scowling lips. He couldn’t be serious. All-day she had been desperate for his attention and he was completely uninterested but now that he had an itch to scratch he was searching up and down for her. Unbelievable! She shouldn't have been surprised. It wasn’t as if he’d ever promised her his undying love and devotion. Still, she had thought him tactful enough not to proposition her after the hell she’d been through that day. 

“I’m not really in the mood right now.” She scolded, “You’ll just have to entertain yourself tonight, you egotistical lecher!”

“That- Isn’t why I sought you out. But, if you truly don’t want my company I’ll leave you be.” He shrugged his tone flippant despite the flash of vulnerability in his ruby eyes.

“I- I’m sorry that was really mean and uncalled for. Please stay.”

Stupid impulsive girl.

She slumped forwards, hiding her face in her knees. She could feel the icy tears threatening to spill over for the hundredth time that day. He’d come to check on her and she’d cut him down because of her own insecurity. The bitterness had gotten the better of her and she had unwittingly discouraged his attempt at compassion. 

“If you think the accusation of being a rake is the most heinous insult that’s been hurled at me I’m afraid you’ve missed the mark by quite a lot.” 

He sat down beside her, placing a hesitant hand on her back. She could sense his uncertainty. He was nervous and clearly out of his depth but he was trying. His cautious fingertips moved slowly across the expanse of her back, tracing nebulas shapes and patterns as she drew short, shallow breaths. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She just knew he was staring at her with the same wide, gentle eyes he had when she’d offered her neck to him that night in the woods. If she saw him like that the dam would break and she’d be an utter mess. 

“I still shouldn’t have said it.” Her voice came out shaky and quiet as she peeked over the top of her knees at him. 

“I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you.” He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “I have something for you. Now, stand up and close your eyes.”

She arched a questioning brow but compiled, hopping to her feet. He pushed her ponytail to one side. His touch lingered on her jumping pulse causing a shiver to run down her spine. A warm chuckle falling from his lips in response. The cool feeling of metal draped across her throat, an otherworldly comfort hummed all around her as the delicate weight of a pendant fell against her chest. 

“Where did you find it!!” Dafni gasped, “I thought I had lost it forever! You can’t fathom how much this means to me.”

“It’s a gift, to repay you for all the ones you’ve given me.”  

It probably seemed a small thing to him but he’d returned a missing piece of herself. Words felt woefully inadequate to express her gratitude. She threw her arms around his neck, sending him staggering back a bit. She hardly noticed. She stood on her tiptoes placing gentle kisses all over him. First over the bridge of his nose and then his cheeks and down his neck. Her fingers laced through his soft curls tugging him close, her lips brushed against his. Astarion’s hands fell to her soft waist, his mouth ever so slightly parting for hers. Dafni sighed, running her tongue along the warm seam of his lip earning her a satisfied purr. His hand ventured to the small of her back gently coaxing her closer. She took in a deep breath, the dizzying blend of leather and patchouli making her weak at the knee. She could have stayed like that forever, pressed safe and content against his solid chest. The feeling was big and terrifying but magical and perfect all at once. 

Drat...

She was falling in love with him.

[crimson-snowfall]

Hey, I want to tell you that I really like your blog! And I have a short question: do you write nsfw stuff? If you do, can you write hc for Theo, Vincent and Comte when they first bite the mc?

Thank you anon, I’m glad you like my blog. I do accept NSFW requests (just not sure about how good I can write them since it’s not my forte).  I have not yet read Theo nor Comte’s route, and while I’m currently reading Vincent’s route at the time of writing, I have not yet reached the part where he bites MC. Anyway this is a bit longer than I expected, but I hope you like it ~ 

[Mildly NSFW] Ikevamp HC request: When they first bit MC (Vincent, Theodorus, & Comte de Saint-Germain)

Vincent

Having never drank blood from a human directly before and being his first time to have truly fallen in love, Vincent couldn’t understand why his thirst won’t be quenched no matter how much rouge he consumes.

As soon as he makes sense of his feelings after consulting with Theo, he tries his best to avoid you out of fear that he might end up hurting you or drink too much of your blood.

The two of you used to spend a lot of time together, so it made you really sad when you realized he started avoiding you. One evening, you caught him staring longingly at you. Vincent seemed to be in a deep trance for he kept his eyes on you even as you approached him and asked him if there’s anything he needed.

He looked rather pale, and somehow one of your hands found its way to his cheek. As soon as you made contact, Vincent snapped out of whatever trance he had been and looked at you, wide eyed.

Heaving a deep sigh, Vincent took your hand off his cheeks, intending to put it away before he could do anything. He never would’ve imagined his thirst could take over that time, and he found himself kissing and licking your wrist.

His fangs grazing on your pulse, he was about to bite you when you called out his name in confusion. Vincent immediately let go of your hand and stood frozen on the spot for a few seconds, before his gaze met yours once again.

“Sorry about that… I… I must’ve been…” at loss for words, he turned around and headed to the direction of his room, apologizing once again as he fled and muttering something about how he had to go.

You can no longer bear the fact that he’s been avoiding you, so you went after him. You already had a hunch as to why based on the hints an irritated Theo had been dropping lately, and the fact that Vincent was about to bite you was all the confirmation you needed.

Vincent sat on his couch, distress evident on his posture. Once he again, he seemed to be too absorbed in whatever has been running on his mind as he failed to notice you enter the room and sit next to him. Being the kind and gentle person he is, you figured that you had to be the one to initiate somehow, because he would never ask for it and the problem would never be solved.

Vincent jolted a little at the suddenness of your embrace, and you took that opportunity to steal a soft kiss from his lips.

“What are you doing here? I’m… it’s not safe for you to be—” his already hoarse voice was cut off with an almost feral sound reverberating from his throat, and in just a split second you found yourself pinned down on the couch.

You could see the violent storm whirling in Vincent’s usually clear eyes as he fought back the urge to take you then and there, and before you even knew it, you were confessing your love for him.

“…That’s why, there’s no need for you to hold back. Take as much as you need. I’m all yours.”

“Can I, really? Am I really allowed to… have this much and be this happy?” The last part was a mere whisper and it was utterly heart-wrenching hearing him ask something like that.

“You deserve the world, Vincent.” With those words you pulled his head down your neck. His tongue flicked on your skin the same skillful way he handled a paintbrush against a canvas. He slowly buried his fangs into your neck, the pain lasting only for the first few centimeters, after which the waves of pleasure coursed through your body with each fraction of his fangs burying deeper into your neck.

The night quickly escalated into a heated, passionate one, and you had to take the next day off your duties not only because Vincent had accidentally marked you everywhere, but mainly you couldn’t even so much walk on your own after last night’s intense lovemaking.

Theo

That night, you thought Theo just went out drinking with Arthur, but when the flirtatious author came home alone and perfectly sober, anxiety began to consume you. You were there when the myrmidons of the Academie threatened Theo to stop with his activities of giving exposure to new artists, or face the consequences.

Your worst fears came to life when you see your lover staggering to the mansion, clutching a badly injured, bleeding arm. You rushed to his side, tears already streaming down your face as you helped him in and called for help from the other residents of the mansion.

“What are you crying for, hondje? I’m a vampire, you know. This is nothing.” Theo did his best to sound like his usual self, but even as a vampire, getting ambushed and stabbed twice on the same arm still hurt like hell.

Sebastian and Vincent helped you tend to Theo’s wounds. Vincent offered to look after his brother, but Theo insisted that he can handle himself and that both you and Vincent should go back to your rooms and get a good night’s sleep. Vincent readily obliged, leaving you and Theo alone in his room.

“What now, knabbeltje? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” To him, it really seemed like you didn’t, for your eyes were still fixated on the bandaged wound, eyes still puffy from crying earlier.

Using his good arm, he pulled you from were you were seated, putting you on top of him. Theo pat your head then pulled you into the tightest embrace he could without straining his wounded arm.

“Silly hondje. Are you that afraid to lose your master?” Theo kissed your head and proceeded to stroke your hair.

“I can’t help it. How else did you expect me to react seeing you leave a trail of blood behind you? And you’re not really immortal like Comte, so if anything happened to you, I—”

You looked like you were on the verge of tears again, so Theo took the liberty of sealing your lips with his own before you could even say things that would make you cry. That was when his blood loss began to take a toll on his body, and he reluctantly broke the kiss as his fangs enlarged.

“Theo… your fangs…” You touched his fangs like a child in awe, drawing a hiss from him. You have longed to be bitten by him for quite some time now, to feel his fangs lodged in your neck as he fucked you silly. Theo gave you all of himself but he always denied you the bite, the sadist taking pleasure in seeing your frustrated and desperate expression.

“Hands off, hondje. My fangs are not a treat.” It was your turn to wear that smug expression your lover often wore as you pressed a finger against his fang, Theo’s eyes widening as you increased the pressure until it pierced your finger.

The scent of your blood had always been alluring to him, but even more so in his injured state. In a flash, you found yourself pinned down against the mattress, a dark smile on your lover’s handsome features as he eyed you like a predator would his prey.

“Well played, hondje. You’re finally getting what you want tonight.” Theo allowed himself just a single lick on your neck before biting down with full intensity, the pleasure increasing proportionally with the strength of his bite that it left you a moaning mess.

Aside from Theo finally losing in his game and you confirming Arthur’s claims that a vampire’s bite is a pleasurable one, the thing that amazed you the most perhaps is how Theo managed to fuck you to soreness even when’s he injured.

Comte

The promised day where Comte bites you and turns you into a vampire has finally come, and while on the surface he maintains his usual elegance and air of nobility, being the one who knows him the most you can’t help but notice the mild apprehension on his eyes as you straddled on his lap.

Brushing aside his golden locks, you pressed a small kiss on his forehead and asked him if he’s having second thoughts about it.

“I was just a little surprised that you would ask for it so soon, ma chérie.” Comte closed his eyes under your touch, his hands moving to pull you closer to him.

He did not miss the way your eyes wavered for a bit, and you immediately knew because of the deep sigh that followed his statement. Mimicking your actions from earlier, he brushed aside your fringes and looked deeply into your eyes.

“You don’t need to force yourself, ma chérie. Like I said–”

“No, no. I can’t stand it anymore!” You knew he was a bit taken aback by your sudden outburst with the way his grip on your hips mildly tensed, and you couldn’t look him in the eye.

You went on and confessed about the hint of sadness you would see in his eyes every time he made love to you, and you just knew it’s his desire have your blood that’s causing him that unmistakable longing.

“I don’t want there to be sadness in your eyes anymore, Comte. And I want this too. So please…” Those were your words as you slowly took off your blouse, before seductively baring your neck to him, inviting, the look in your eyes full of lust.

Comte has lived through hundreds, or even thousands of years— it doesn’t really matter how long since he has long lost count of the years, but that moment would have to be the first time he has felt so much impulse and desire coursing through his entirety, and it scared him to death at the same time that he might drink you dry if he does not find another outlet for that overwhelming desire.

Soon, both of your clothes and undergarments lay discarded on the floor. You’re no longer straddling him; instead you laid sprawled out on the bed, with Comte leaving fiery kisses on every inch of your skin.

His thick, heated length rubbed against your entrance as he kissed and licked that sweet spot on your neck, and in one fluid motion, he sank his fangs into your neck and buried himself deep inside you.

You felt Comte’s desire flowing into you with every gulp of blood and each thrust of his body, perfectly mingling with your own lust. You lost your self to pleasure the night you lost your humanity– and if your new-found eternity is going to be like anything that night, then you really have no need of death to know what heaven is like.

Eyy is that really an HC I think I might’ve written a full scenario, help

Also in case anyone is wondering, the Academie I mentioned in Theo’s HC is an actual thing in the routes, and basically they’re traditionalists who put down artists exploring a new style, so they’re at odds with Theo who discovers and promotes new talents.

With regards to incoming requests: I’m currently busy with university at the moment (quiz weeks and finals season), so any incoming requests after this might have to wait until the first week of February before I can work on and post them. But if you’re willing to wait, my ask box is always open. I would also appreciate and prioritize Valentine’s-themed requests.

[fangslikedaggers]

❝ he was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges – sharp jaw, lean build, wool coat snug across his shoulders. ❞ 

huh, who’s DAVID CORENSWET? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALAIN LESTOAT. he is a TWENTY FOUR year old PART-VAMPIRE wizard who is an UNSPEAKABLE. he is known for being RETICENT, MERCURIAL, ALOOF, EVASIVE, and DECADENT but also CHIVALROUS, ADROIT, PRAGMATIC, DEBONAIR, and INTUITIVE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song THAT’S OKAY BY THE HUSH SOUND and THREE PIECE SUITS, LONE MATTRESS IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT, CODED NOTEBOOKS, INK-STAINED HANDS, BLACK COFFEE GONE COLD, UNSENT POSTCARDS, OLD TABACCO PIPE, SOFT DIMPLED GRINS, PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR, ÉDITH PIAF RECORDS ON LOW, and RED LEATHER GLOVES. i hear he is aligned with NO ONE, so be sure to keep an eye on him. 

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Alain Danet Lestoat NICKNAME(S): some people call him ‘Drac’ for some reason, but he prefers to simply be called Alain AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 09/19/2005 (will update graphic soon) OCCUPATION: Unspeakable, works in the Death Chamber most days GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Beauxbatons BLOOD STATUS: Part-Vampire (1/4th) / Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

If you’ve ever had a chocolate frog, then there’s a great chance you’ve heard the name Lestoat. Among the many trading cards you can find in the packaged confection there is one for an Amarillo Lestoat, a vampire born at the same time that America declared its Independence, immortalized on enchanted cardstock. Amarillo’s rise to fame came with a single piece of literature which the vampire had published during his two hundred and one years. A Vampire’s Monologue, a mind numbingly boring read that offered the vampire a way to disable his victims so he could feed off them without trouble. It’s a story that has followed his grandson Alain throughout his twenty six years -- a fact that isn’t exactly welcome to the 1/4 Part-Vampire. 

Alain Danet Lestoat was born on a cold and murky September day in the commune of Eguisheim in Haut-Rhin to Marguerite Babineaux, a pureblooded witch whose family was one of the most prominent pureblood families in France during the 20th century, and her Part-Vampire husband Alexander Lestoat; the unexpectedly conceived son of the bore himself. Amarillo had no intention of fathering halfbreed offspring, but was surprised only ten years prior to his death to find out he’d impregnated a young witch he’d used his book on during a trip to Madrid, thus beginning the equally magical and vampiric lineage of the writer. Sometimes Alain wishes the man had managed to keep to this plan. From the moment he opened his eyes to the world he was instantly met with hardships and difficult hurdles to overcome. 

From his father’s side Alain had inherited a severe allergy to garlic, an acute aversion to direct sunlight, canines that were far too long and awkward for braces, and, of course, a slight penchant for the taste of blood. For her part, Marguerite had managed to pass down dark, thick curls and dimpled smiles, but that was not enough to quell the sort of fear that one got whenever he flashed a toothy grin at them. In Eguisheim, among the non-magical denizens, it was important for the Lestoats to stay incognito. Wixen could hide easily among the non-magical, ashen complexed and fanged Vampires could hardly do the same. As such, his childhood was rather isolated and sheltered. He spent most of his days roaming the rather large manor house they had acquired on the edge of town, reading the vast collection of books his two-centuries-old grandfather had left in his father’s possession, consuming knowledge about the world outside he could seldom take part in. 

It wouldn’t be until he’d received his invitation to study at his mother’s alma matter that he would get to see the outside world. With its sprawling gardens, never-melting ice sculptures and enchanting fountains, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic felt more like it belonged among Perrault’s stories than in the real world, and yet it was very real. Equal parts excited and horrifyingly nervous, Alain travelled to the secluded chateau to begin his education. His only hope was that among the magical folk of France he would be able to be more readily accepted. He was only a fourth vampire after all -- he was more like the other wixen around him, how could they abhor him? Disappointment would soon become a constant acquaintance for him. All it had taken was one excitedly large toothy grin to a fellow first year within the first minutes of the welcome feast and Alain’s reputation had been set. Leech. Bloodsucker. Monster. All desperately unfair labels since, as he constantly reminded others, he was more wizard than vampire, but it hadn’t mattered. Having knives for teeth was enough to cause anyone to instantly write him off as a danger and liability. 

After a particularly disastrous first year, including a rather humiliating question-and-answer session during a DADA class, he had sworn he would turn his back on the wizarding world and never come back. I’ll run away into the words, become the Bête in an enchanted castle and make friends out of the utensils I’ll steal from maman’s cupboard. It hadn’t been until Alexander intervened, having gone through a rough schooling experience himself, that Alain would be comfortable with returning to the academy. You’ll just have to prove to them they’re wrong by showing what kind of person you are. It was with this advice that Alain would come back year after year, despite the harassment from his classmates, in order to study. He had resolved to be the best wizard he could. He studied hard -- an easy feat since he was rarely invited along to field trips or outings with his classmates -- excelled at his academics and managed to be top of his class. Despite the naysayers, he’d graduated from Beauxbatons with top honors, and plenty of prestigious internships and job proposals to choose from. Tired of the isolation of both his small commune and the secluded chateau, he had taken what he felt was the most lucrative option -- an internship with the Bureaux des Mystéres in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France. 

It wasn’t a particularly glamorous position -- he mostly helped file nonsensical reports. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near the actual Chambers within, but he’d caught on quickly enough to know that some really interesting and important stuff happened in there. Why else didn’t anyone talk about it? When he was able to, he applied to become an Unspeakable trainee and before long he was finally setting foot inside those elusive rooms and learning their secrets. He could be trusted to keep them; he was never one to socialize anyway. Who was he going to tell? The only person who was ever privy to his intimate thoughts was his little sister Amélie, and she was still too little to have discussions about his job. Quickly, he’d come to find the secretive and confidential world within those chambers were far more comforting than the vast world outside. His hunger for knowledge about the things he was studying had lead him to submit an application for another Ministry of Magic across the channel. It was said that in the UK they had made more headway with the types of things that were being studied within their own Department of Mysteries, and Alain was desperate to understand everything. When he’d gotten a response back from their Department head eagerly welcoming him to the team, he left first thing and didn’t once look back. France had already taught him enough, it was time to find something more on other shores. 

He’s been in the UK for only a year and a half now, and most of the time he’s spent sitting before a stone arch and shroud, listening to voices calling to him. The Death Chamber. There was something kind of funny about a vampire studying death, but Alain doesn’t care. Each day more mysteries open up to him, keeping him from sleeping and eating as his mind reels with everything. He’s been so occupied with his highly secretive work that he hadn’t noticed the climate changing around him. As a foreigner he understood the past conflicts in England in a textual sense. The Wizarding Wars and the Death Eaters were footnotes in his textbooks, a foreign problem to learn from. They weren’t close to home or part of his own history, so he hadn’t given them much thought. When a string of high prolific deaths began taking place they were sad, no doubt, but not warning bells of something dark to come. As such, he hasn’t taken a side. Per his letters home, he insists that should things become grim in England then he will secure a portkey back to France and resume his post in the Ministére, but Alain figures that whatever is happening will eventually de-escalate. Hadn’t they stopped a rise in dark wizardry in this country a matter of decades prior? 

ok so basically: alain is an introverted part-vampire who migrated to london about a year and half prior to start of game to work at the department of mysteries in the ministry. he started his career as an unspeakable in france’s ministry but is eager to learn more than he thinks was capable back in his homeland. 

BULLYING AND SLIGHT NON CON TW. generally he’s kind of introverted and keeps to himself; this is because he was harassed and bullied a lot as a beauxbatons student for being “halfbreed”. he’s 1/4 vampire and the grandson of a famous vampire writer, a legacy he really hates. in particular he hates that he’s 1. labelled as a monster by ignorant people (he lives off regular food, thank you very much) but also 2. if people know about his grandfather, then they know he wrote a boring af book and in a shady way to get people to submit to him for feeding. kinda feels non-consensual ya know?? 

PHOBIA MENTION TW as both a vampire and a frenchman, he dresses impeccably, so he’s usually seen around in long trench coats and thin tailored suits. he wears red leather gloves as both a fashion statement and also because he is a bit of a germaphobe. he won’t divulge details but this has to do with a vicious prank that was done to him when he was a student. he was kinda carrie’d if ya feel me. 

despite an air of decadence and debonair, he’s kind of poor (rip) and lives in a dingy little shoebox flat where he sleeps on a barren mattress and eats instant ramen and boxed wine for dinner. most of his money goes towards his closet or to his family back home, who doesn’t really need it but he loves spoiling his little sister so he would rather fund her life than his own. claims he’s making enough to live elegantly so they don’t realize he’s a l i a r. 

look he’s gonna be a bit of a hard egg to crack but i promise once he is cracked he’s charming and sweet and a loyal good friend so pls don’t give up on his interactions if he’s aloof and distant ;-; give the boy a chance. 

idk i’ll probably add to this as I think of stuff; it’s 3 am lmao

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Some German FAMILY: Alexander Amarillo Lestoat (father, b. 1967 in Madrid, Spain), Marguerite Celeste Lestoat neé Babineaux (mother, b. 1981 in Mulhouse, France), Amélie Marguerite Lestoat (sister, b. 2011 in Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France), Amarillo Lestoat † (grandfather, b. 1776 in Philadelphia, America, died 1977 in Madrid, Spain; vampire and author of a vampire’s monologue)  PETS: Barn Owl named Archimedes and Black Kneazle named Persephone FACE CLAIM: David Corenswet ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbh i have nothing in mind so just hmu if you have ideas. if not, we will brain storm :) 

bonus: 

alain danet lestoat, beauxbatons first year c. 2017. ignore that wonky ass eye i’m too lazy to fix it

[midwinter-fox]

Heartache

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

So, a quick note because I wanna. I've gotten way more people following me and liking my stuff than I thought I would!! It seriously fills me with so many good feels, I cry a little inside with each notification I get. I've been having a rough time keeping up with writing thanks to Life, the Universe, and Everything (not the book, but still a great read) so I was wondering if it'd be too much to ask for some kind of review..? It can be in the form of an anonymous ask, or a comment, or even a private message. I'd really like some motivation to keep going, or I might end up burning out.. Anyway, y'all didn't come to hear me complain, but I might be encouraged to pump out more fic if I can get some kind words. c: My bitching and moaning aside, here is the next chapter!

It was late into the night - or perhaps it was very early the next morning - before the lovers laid in pleasurable bliss, content with the extent to which they'd explored each other. Leonore's head rested on her lover's chest while her fingers tenderly stroked the coarse hair beginning to sprout from his jaw. She allowed her thumb to brush across his lips every so often, and each time she did, he would press a light kiss to it. Though he thoroughly enjoyed their time together, Dettlaff couldn't help the feeling of remorse that began creeping up in him.

He was there to care for her, not rut into the next day.

Eventually the hand that gently pet him stopped moving, her breathing slowed, and her eyes fluttered closed. She was thoroughly spent, especially considering she'd only barely managed to keep up with her vampiric lover and his seemingly endless stamina. She fidgeted only once when he kissed the top of her head, but then snuggled into him as well as she could. The way she cuddled was like she was trying to almost completely consume him, but it pleased him to no end. Were her bed big enough to accommodate both of them, he'd have attempted to embrace her in kind.

This was perfect, he thought. She was perfect. She wasn't Rhena, but he wouldn't have her any other way. The never-ending praise, constant smiles, and perpetual kindness made his heart feel full again - he’d received some when he had Rhena, but never to this extent and never to the point where he almost had to convince her to stop lest she overwhelm him. Though, now that he thought about it, was Rhena's affection ever truly genuine? He'd never know, but he sorely wished she'd have just told him when she had the chance. It would save him the torturous thoughts that still plagued him two years after he killed her. Then again, he did bring this upon himself.

Alone to his thoughts now that Leonore slumbered peacefully atop him, he began to feel the ever familiar aching in his chest that brought the ill twisting in his gut. Hatred for Syanna and what she did to him began welling to the surface, but who he hated most was himself. He didn't know what he'd done to drive his lover away, but whatever it was, he only had himself to blame; it was only about time before that same fatal flaw forced his current beloved to flee him too, was it not? The beast inside him wanted to pace and snarl and lash out, but when he looked down at the mess of brunette hair and the woman it belonged to splayed across his chest, it resorted to sulking and fuming instead. He dared not wake her up with his often violent temper, but his intrusive thoughts persisted.

Why had Syanna used him? Why the betrayal? Why the heartbreak? Why him? If all she wanted was an assassin, she could've had one of her brutes do it or found one for hire. Instead, she took his heart and cruelly toyed with it until she had effectively turned it black. She knew he would go to the ends of the earth for her - and still would though she lay in a crypt - so why would she give him such hope and love only to discard him then come back years later to take advantage of him? Pain unlike any he'd felt before choked him, but still he remained quiet in his mental torture.

The smell of blood hit the air, but Dettlaff recognized it as his own. He'd dug his claws into his palm deeply and could feel the crimson liquid oozing out to drip onto the bedding. Just as quickly as the wound was made, it stitched itself back together. What he wouldn't give to feel a prolonged physical pain to counterbalance the emotional one. He could just as easily rip his own still-beating heart from his rib cage and crush it beneath his heel, but it would regenerate back in his chest where it belonged only moments later.

Unable to lie still any longer, he decided to use his vampiric abilities to his advantage. With a sigh, he let himself fade into his incorporeal form and slip from beneath his lover, allowing her to gently plop down onto the bed that was beneath them. She stirred only slightly, but quickly settled back into a restful sleep. Dettlaff, on the other hand, stood in the center of the room and gathered his clothing from the floor.

Now that he was up and about, he could survey all of the damage he'd done to her room. Feathers from her pillows were everywhere, including the clothing he now gathered. Her headboard was cracked and there were skid marks on the floor where the bed had been forcefully pushed to the side. Holes littered her bedding and now there was blood thanks to his hurting his own hand.

Despite the destruction, he did not regret a single thing they had done that night. In fact, that particular memory would be burned into his mind. He was especially proud of himself for having not harmed Leonore save for a potential hickey or two, but it was hard to resist when presented with such delectable thighs. It was a trial trying to refrain from claiming her like his instincts roared for him to do, but if memory served, that very well could've been what pushed Rhena away. He was too bestial, too monstrous to be considered a conventional lover. He loved like an animal - he knew that much to be true. This fact was the very reason why he tried so hard to show restraint, for he greatly feared that he would drive Leonore to leave him too. Should that happen, he knew not what he'd do.

After dusting as much downy feathers out of his clothes as he could, he put them back on. Buttons and buckles fastened, he sat on the edge of the bed to slip on his boots. The shifting of weight on the bed made Leonore stir, her eyes ever so faintly opening as she tried to fight wakefulness.

"Dettlaff..?"

"Hush, liefje. Sleep."

"Where're you goin'..?"

"I am going out for some air and to speak with Regis. I will return shortly."

"Please don't go.." The pitiful way she whimpered for him made him hesitate in his decision to step out, but he wanted to clear his head before he did something he'd regret.

"I promise to return," he said softly before kissing her forehead. She hummed in sleepy defiance. Then, he remembered what she had done for him when he'd woken from his nightmare and ran his claws through her matted hair. His fingertips gently rubbed at her scalp while he avoided scratching her with his nails, making her groan softly then close her eyes once more. Soon, she was fast asleep again, so he took the chance to finish putting on his boots and stand carefully from the bed so as not to wake her again.

With one last glance to make sure she still slept, he left.

---

Regis was tending to an ill patient when Dettlaff returned to his home, but they elected to simply ignore each other until the mortal was gone. It was simply how Dettlaff preferred it - it brought less attention to him when humans were around. It was odd that someone be there at this ungodly hour, but mortals were wont to demand services when it best suited them and them alone - something he learned the hard way. Since he was there for Regis, he went to his room to wait for the stranger to leave before speaking with his friend.

The room was as he left it when Leonore slept there last. Her scent still lingered in his sheets, so he opened the window to allow for some air. It wasn't that the smell was repelling for him, but it didn't make his internal pain hurt any less. He seated himself on the bed as he waited, but before he could begin his downward spiral into his own thoughts again, Regis stepped into the room.

"How did everything go? I didn't expect you to be gone as long as you were, so when the raven told me of bandits on the farmstead, I daresay I began imagining the worst. How is Leonore faring? Was she unharmed?"

"She is well. A few scrapes and bruises, but she recovered quickly in regards to her emotional and mental state."

"I take it you got there just in time then." Dettlaff nodded in response, so Regis continued. "She's home asleep? Did she at least get to eat the food you brought her?"

Ah.

Damn.

Dettlaff groaned and covered his face with a hand - he couldn't believe that in all that time with her, he still forgot to get her some sort of sustenance.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Her horse ate it."

"Well. That is.. unfortunate. Were you not so disinclined to lie, I'd say that is possibly the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. As is not the case, I sincerely hope the horse enjoyed it at the least."

"She seemed pleased."

"Leonore?"

"Lola."

"I'll assume that's the horse." There was a faint smile on Regis' face, but judging by the way Dettlaff still rested his face in his hands, there was clearly something bothering him. "Is everything alright, my friend?"

"No," Dettlaff sighed, but he didn't move so much as a fraction. Depression was weighing him down, making him feel heavier than even he could carry. "I needed air, so I left Leonore in her bed. I.. need to sort out my thoughts."

Concern now found its way into Regis' expression, and had he been wearing his satchel, he'd be clutching the strap. As such, his arms crossed as he leaned a shoulder against the door frame.

"What happened after the two of you left the farm? I'd like to know everything that transpired."

"It.. Mh.. I dispatched the bandits without difficulty. The farmer and his children sustained minor injuries, but I instructed them to find you if need be."

"I know that much. They came to see me earlier in the day, told me about how a dark stranger came and saved them without demanding so much as a thanks. When I informed them that you were a friend of mine, they all but threw themselves at my feet and begged me to thank you in their stead. I patched them up and sent them on their way, but not before the farmer saw fit to leave me a few extra coins for both my services and yours."

"I do not want it."

"I know, but they refused to take it with them, so I've set it aside for the time being. Now, what else happened? After the farm nearly being ransacked."

Dettlaff was slow to answer, almost as though he was nearly embarrassed to divulge such information - after all, it was his private life that Regis was prying into, and it was not how he'd intended for his day to go. Really, he'd have been happy to simply spend the next few hours in her arms again, but to have been in, on, and around her had been a pleasant alteration to his plans.

"I told her I love her. Then we returned to her home and laid together until less than an hour ago."

"It's about damned time. I'm assuming you two went back to her house to have sex then."

As loathe as he was to admit it aloud, Dettlaff nodded. He didn't regret their intimate night together, but he wished he hadn't been so rash. There was nothing tender about their mindless rutting; it was two years that he'd secluded himself, but he was so miserable in that entire time that he'd never really thought about his body's sexual needs. The pent up frustration had burst forth as soon as Leonore's lips touched his neck.

"I had a moment of weakness."

"That moment lasted for nearly ten hours, Dettlaff. Is she still intact?"

"Yes, and I did not take her nonstop for that entire time, Regis." He didn't mean to snap, but he felt bad as it is. Even to him though, his excuses sounded terrible - like a child coming up with reasons for naughty behavior. "We.. did other things within that time. Talked, held each other, slept."

"So sex and aftercare. Then more sex." To say Regis was amused was an understatement. He was having too much fun teasing his companion like this, for he was elated to know that his dearest friend finally found someone to fill the holes in his heart.

With a growl, Dettlaff stood and turned to face the window so he didn't have to face the other. The ruthless jesting grated on his already tender nerves, but Regis was the only one he could and would speak to about matters such as this. They'd both seen each other at their most vulnerable, and Regis had a wisdom that he valued deeply. Sensing only his companion's growing unease, the mirth left Regis promptly.

"I still find myself thinking of Rhen-" Dettlaff paused to correct himself, "Syanna, when I am left to my thoughts. Now I am.. unsure of whether I acted too rashly. I cannot deny my feelings for Leonore, but Syanna still holds pieces of my heart. I both long for what once was and hate her so strongly." He all but snarled, his fists clenching at his sides. Anger was rising in him again, and he was prepared to leap out the window and take out his fury anywhere that wasn't his friend's home.

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing to provide reassurance that he wasn't alone to deal with his worries and frustrations.

"It's not going to be overnight that you heal from such trials. You are perfectly justified in your feelings, though I do wish I could take that heartache from you and bear it myself. It pains me to see you suffering like this, especially when I once knew a time when you were almost happy. Please, Dettlaff, let me know should there be anything I can do to help you."

"I..." For a moment, Dettlaff was overcome with emotion. There was hurt, sadness, anger, hatred, and yet, he also felt the love and compassion of his beloved friend. Were he not also so empty inside, he might feel the faintest bit of the happiness he was once capable of. "I think I need to be alone."

They stood silent momentarily before Regis sighed and gave Dettlaff's shoulder another squeeze.

"So be it. What should I tell Leonore if she comes by?"

"I told her I would return to her, but should that not be the case, tell her I will be back soon. I simply need time to think.”

With that, he let himself fade, his body becoming nothing more than a fine mist. He needed to escape, and so he left for the Brokilon Forest where his kin resided.

---

With the dryads being a constant threat to any who entered the Brokilon, there were few who dared venture into its depths. After so many warning arrows, however, Dettlaff knew where their boundaries lay. His kin was permitted to cross it so long as they strayed from the dryads' settlements and did not disrupt the natural balance of the forest. As such, they were limited in how much they could hunt, but with how much game there was, he doubted that would ever become an issue.

When he entered the forest and the domain of his pack, he was greeted with enthusiasm. The juveniles he'd spoken fondly of were among the first to approach, the three lamb-sized young ekimma bounding up to him with excited chittering. It was hard not to smile when they brushed against him with their soft, downy bodies and demanded his attention with playful nips.

"I missed you, as well," he mumbled affectionately as he ran a hand through the fur of one. They weren't sentient like the higher varieties, but they were still intelligent in their own respects. They understood him just as he understood them, though they were incapable of speech.

After petting one, the other two grew jealous quickly and either tried shoving their sibling out of the way to receive attention or nudging his hand to demand he move on to them. This was what he'd sought when leaving to sort out his thoughts. There was something soothing about being around his own kind, surrounded by those who were not bothered by the trivialities of mankind nor the devastation it brought in its wake. They lived simplistically, and he wished he were not so complex a being so he too could live without worries or cares.

How could humans think such beings to be monsters? In all of his experience, he'd never known them to attack unless their territory is encroached upon, and even then it was in self defense. The stories in which his kind were depicted as hungry, vicious creatures with only the capacity to kill always filled him with dread. Were mortals not so ignorant, so close-minded, they would see that there is so much more to them. Never had he thought himself a monster before Syanna's betrayal, but what she made him do turned him into the very thing he swore not to be. Leonore was right, monsters killed without cause, and while he felt his reasons were justified at the time, they clearly were not once Syanna's plot was revealed. He killed innocent people, some of which had shown him selfless kindness, and he laid waste to them like a monster truly would.

It was a fitting name for him now, he supposed. Dettlaff truly could be a Beast if he wanted to be, and he made that blatantly clear when he ordered the attack on Beauclair. Guilt still wracked him, but he did what he could to make up for his misdeeds by caring for those of his flock that survived.

He shed his coat so he could avoid having it torn, but once set aside, he gave the young ekimma a playful growl, provoking them into a game. They pounced on him, and though he could easily throw them off, he allowed them to overpower him at times then knock them off easily and nip right back. It amused him to no end how they tried to dominate him, but it also gave him a chance to teach them how to use their claws and teeth to their best advantage. Rarely did they learn, but he took the time to both lead and play. It was better than taking his anger out violently on the environment, for he got plenty of exercise and was content to have the chance away from polite society.

Dettlaff spent the better part of the morning letting loose and allowing his feral nature take him where it may. He hunted and cavorted, wrestled and nurtured; he did what a leader should when in command of a flock of beings the world would otherwise deem horrifying and dangerous. By dawn, his body was coated in a sheen of sweat and his remaining clothing was tattered and torn. His overcoat remained intact at least, which was all he could ask for, really.

All too soon, he knew he had to return to civilization to at least make good on his promise to Leonore. She probably wouldn't even be awake by the time he got back, but he wanted to be there when she woke. He knew how it felt to wake to an empty bed when only a few hours prior someone had shared it with you.

---

Sleep evaded Leonore almost as soon as Dettlaff left. The warmth he had been sharing with her was gone, leaving her feeling cold and alone. Why had he left her..? Surely it wasn't something she'd done? Regardless of how much she tried to rationalize everything, her heart still ached. He was gone for only a few hours, but it felt much longer to her. Rather than try to reclaim lost sleep, she sat in bed and sighed in the dark.

Creaking brought her head up from where it rested on her knees, her body curled up and legs to her chest while she waited to see if he'd really return. Booted feet across the wooden floor, nearly silent, brought him into her room. Dawn peaked in through her window, allowing her to see his blue eyes despite the darkness. Without a word, she stood and went to him, her arms enveloping him just as his automatically did her.

"Why are you awake?" his deep voice rumbled through her, and for some reason she felt it sounded like he'd recently been crying. Yet, when she looked up and met his gaze, there wasn't any sign of tears.

"I waited for you. Something didn't feel right and I.. I waited for you to come back."

Heart clenching painfully, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"I am fine. You need your rest."

"No, you're not. Don't take me for a fool, Dettlaff. I know when you're hurting."

Rather than give her an answer, he gently led her back to her bed. When he sat down, she crawled into his lap and hugged him close before he could even try to so much as remove his boots. Her tenderness was soothing to his worn heart, but now he had the growing suspicion that she was feeling his heartache. After all, he left her to wake alone, and though he'd expressed that he would return, it was hours before he came back. As such, his arms found their way around her again, but he had to grit his teeth against the rising lump in his throat.

"I apologize for having brought you concern. I needed to sort out my thoughts."

"And have they been sorted?" she asked, her head not rising from his shoulder.

"No." The admission almost broke his resolve, but he stayed strong. He had to - for her.

Her head rose from its resting place so she may press her forehead to his. The loving gesture was not one he felt he deserved, but he held her close despite his feelings.

"I'm here for you. No matter what happens, no matter what plagues you, I'm not going anywhere. I love you, no matter your weakness or sorrow. Please, do what you must to try to heal, but do not forget me. I wish to be your balm when your hurt still burns you so."

For but a brief moment, he was grateful she'd closed her eyes. He couldn't stand to let her see his silent tears. His face was buried into her shoulder, arms tightening almost painfully as he fought to stop the pathetic quivering in his chest. Tears spilled down her still naked skin, but she said nothing, did nothing besides hold him close.

"I love you, Leonore."

"Hush, love. I know, and I love you too."

[furidojasutin]

Main pairing: Fraxus (Freed x Laxus)

Side pairings: mentions of Canajane, Elfgreen, Nalu

Characters: Bixlow, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Evergreen, Makarov Dreyar and mentions of other characters

Universe: Canon

Rating: T

a/n: Five days late for Halloween but just in time for Fraxus Day! I was pretty excited for this especially because this is a collab with the nerd @damasath-art. I love the pic she drew so so much and you can go check it out right >here<. I'll also link the inspiration art for this idea which was also drawn by her, right >here<, and the costumes for Bix and Ever right >here<. Go check out her art pls and give it many reblogs and comments! While I'm at it I'll also link you to the costume ideas for Cana, Mira, Lucy and Natsu. Go look >here< for the Canajane art drawn by lovely @peoniespoppiesandowlsohmy and go look >here< for the Nalu art drawn by the sweet @arikafd <3 But now I really hope you'll enjoy this oneshot and happy Fraxus day y'all!!

“What's you guys taking so long, eh?” It was Bixlow's voice echoing through Freed and Laxus' house while he was lounging on their huge couch. He was all done dressing up and so was Evergreen who was standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms.

They all had decided to go with kind of matching costumes this year. Finding an outfit for Evergreen and Freed had been comparably easy in contrast to the ones Bixlow and Laxus required but they thought that the search had definitely been worth it.

“Ya can make out when yer back home tonight!”

“Shut it, Bixlow.” This time Laxus replied, his voice rumbling through the rooms. The blond heard the seith mage cackle and sighed before he turned back to see how Freed was doing. “How's it going?”

“I'm almost done,” he mumbled. He was too concentrated to say anything else as he was trying to adjust his boyfriend's cape to the best of his abilities. Laxus' outfit was a pain but it suited him, really. It looked incredibly good and the theme was purposefully fitting as well. “Almost... Now, done!”

Freed eyed his handwork proudly. He'd done a good job with it although the kind of armor Laxus was into had been a pain to adjust. Bixlow's had similar troubles, though. And Evergreen had been just a tad bit nervous to go without her glasses even though they all knew that she had no issues control her stone eyes. It just wasn't something frequent. Freed's outfit was the simplest of them all but it did its job. That, and he'd gotten a little extra from Bixlow to use at the guild hall to make his costume choice even clearer.

“Hell yea. Now I sure am the Thunder God.” Laxus looked at himself in the mirror, as he was readily dressed in his Thor costume, a bright grin on his face. He may not care much about such festivities, parties let alone costumes but he had to admit that this one was more than acceptable. Nothing ridiculous. Actually kinda nice.

Hands curled into fists and the dragon slayer couldn't resist letting some lightning cackle around him. Yes, this was good.

Freed just gave a huff before he arched up an eyebrow for a patronizing look and adjusted his glasses, commenting dryly. “Laxus. Professional please.”

Now raising a brow in return Laxus glanced at him but a new grin wasn't long in coming. “Good thing ya don't have to practice those looks, huh?”

“Now what's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin'.” Laxus just grinned wider when Freed shot him a tiny playful glare. They just looked at each other for another moment and Freed was just about to take a hold of the taller man's collar and lean up for a kiss, and possibly whisper something in his ear, when they heard Bixlow call for them again.

They sighed almost in unison but then the rune mage smiled. “He's right, we should get going.”

Laxus gave a semi-serious groan of annoyance. “I wouldn't mind just stayin' here... with you. And do other things.”

“Right.” Freed chuckled and then nudged him. “All the effort will be wasted if we don't attend the guild party. We can still do other things later.”

“Yea, yea. Understood, Dr. Banner.” He was ready to follow the other out of the door when suddenly a thought struck him and made him stop walking. “Oi, ya have the hammer set up?” Because what would Thor be without it, right? Of course they had thought of this, too.

“What do you think?” Freed had briefly stopped in his tracks as well, looking back over his shoulder with a pleased curve on his lips. “Of course I have. It wasn't much work anyway. Your hammer is located near the guild doors on a particular field of runes that will only allow you to lift the hammer. Of course the runes aren't visible. I planned on placing it in the middle of the stage but Mirajane said that it would be needed for something else.”

“Heh, sounds perfect.” Laxus' lips curved again as well and they finally left the bedroom. “As expected of ya. They'll have no idea what's going.”

“Perhaps not but they aren't stupid either.” And he smiled at the small compliment he had received of his boyfriend. It made his heart flutter and had brightened his smile by the time they joined Bixlow, dressed up pretty impressively as the Iron Man, and Evergreen, dressed up as tough Black Widow.

“Finally!” Ever sighed and stroked a hand through her hair upon seeing the missing two of her male friends walking in. “What on earth took you so long?”

“Oi, Bixlow took a long ass time to get dressed as well,” Laxus grumbled whilst Freed went to fetch something.

“You took longer. And needed two more hands, apparently,” Bixlow promptly defended himself but showed a grin as he followed Freed with his eyes, his babies floating around him. “Ya gettin' yer mug?”

The seith mage got his answer when the rune mage turned back around with a 3D mug of the Hulk's green fist in his grip. Holding it by its handle almost made it look like a real huge fist and Bixlow still thought that it was the perfect little addition to Freed's comparably simple costume. He would just drink out of it all evening long. It was better than abusing his demon form to prove a point for such a ridiculous reason, something he'd never do anyway.

Alright, perhaps he wouldn't use it for different kinds of liquors and drinks.

“Time to party, babies!”

xxx xxx

The atmosphere at the guild hall was breathtaking. All of them had decorated and created stuff together to turn it into the perfect location for a Halloween party and it was a complete success.

There were pumpkins and coffins, skeletons and fake blood messages on the walls that glowed when it was dark enough. Of course they searched for the perfect music, soundtracks that would be suitable for a party and for Halloween just as much. They even had a small maze in the guild's outdoor area, one Freed helped setting up traps for.

It had been lots of work to dress the entire hall in such things but it had been worth it.

One hour had passed since Freed, Laxus, Evergreen and Bixlow arrived at the guild. Most of their guild mates had already been there when they set foot in the hall, the music loud and the chattering lively.

Despite having helped to set up the location all of them were still amazed. Everyone had honestly done a good job.

Mirajane and Cana had been the first two to greet them and it wasn't hard to notice that even Mira had already consumed a fair bit of alcohol. For once they had an entire buffet for food and drinks so Mirajane and Kinana wouldn't have to miss out on things and the eldest Strauss giggled as she leaned against her girlfriend. Their relationship was fairly fresh still but they were adorable together.

Funnily enough, Cana was dressed as Harley Quinn whilst Mirajane had chosen to go with Poison Ivy. What a coincidence! They looked amazing, though, and it didn't take long until Cana and Mira had dragged Evergreen off to the bar.

Neither Bixlow nor Freed and Laxus had missed the looks their female bestie had thrown towards the spot Elfman was sitting at, dressed as zombie complete with a big screw going 'through' his head.

“Oi, ya think she'd have liked to have a couple costume with Elfman? They'd be adorable as the Beauty and the Beast.”

Laxus snorted, and Freed went ahead to voice what they all were thinking. “Truth be told, she would most likely like it but the stage she's in wouldn't allow her to admit it. Eventually, for certain.”

All three men shook their head.

Somewhere on the other end of the big hall Natsu, who was in a vampire costume, was chasing Lucy. It seemed as though these two had chosen to go with matching outfits as well as the celestial mage was wearing a beautiful damsel's dress.

She was flailing and shouting at the cackling fire dragon slayer to stop running after her because he wanted to 'bite' her but the soon erupting giggles revealed that she was just having some playful fun with this dork of hers. Nobody really knew whether these two had finally confessed to each other and became an actual couple or if they were still tiptoeing around each other, really. But it was kind of adorable watching them either way.

“Ya think Natsu's found the hammer already?” Bixlow had excused himself for some unknown reason, which was highly suspicious and all they could think of was that he was up to something. Though Laxus didn't really mind just chattering with his boyfriend who was sitting beside him with his Hulk mug filled with cold beer.

“I'm not sure. Something tells me that he would still be standing there trying to lift up the hammer and not giving up until he's managed to do so which would be never unless I undid the runes. I could doom him to a future filled with the will to lift this damned hammer,” Freed responded rather dryly before he turned to look at Laxus and then chuckled quietly.

“I'd love to see this.” And he secretly indulged in the imagination of watching Natsu struggle and get exasperated because he just wasn't able to lift that damn thing.

“Me, too.”

It was amusing, honestly. Though if Freed was completely honest then he knew that somebody would figure out that his magic was to blame for this circumstance. The runes may not be visible but the magic was sensible if one concentrated and focused on it, so if somebody really put effort into trying to find out the reason for the unmovable hammer then he was sure they'd figure it out pretty quick.

Their attention got drawn to something else when a certain fight of words erupted and Gray was left in his underwear when he promptly stripped out of his skeleton costume.

“There they go again... Halloween is apparently no exception,” Freed muttered as he watched and listened to the verbal fight between Natsu and Gray that sure as hell wouldn't stay verbal only. Though one look to the side told him that Erza was already on her way to separate these two. She was especially sensitive with such stuff when it happened on special occasions like this one – she wouldn't let anyone ruin the evening.

“She's in no mood for their bullshit and neither am I.” Laxus snorted before he emptied his own beer. He heard his boyfriend mumbling agreement while he glanced around. With narrowed eyes he spotted Bixlow and apparently their suspicion had been justified when suddenly Levy ended up squeaking as the seith mage threw a huge fake spider at her face.

“Typical.” Freed smiled faintly as he followed the dragon slayer's gaze. He had to admit that he himself wasn't exactly innocent when it got around Halloween pranks. In fact he could actually enjoy this holiday to a fair amount and, if he was completely honest, then he indulged in the horrified reactions he could elicit with such mischievous moves.

“Yea. I'm actually feelin' sorry for Levy and whoever's gonna be next.” Laxus shook his head, then turned it to focus on the rune mage instead. It wasn't often that he got to see Freed with glasses but he sure rocked them, especially when he did this thing with his eyebrow.

“Mh-hm...” Holding the eye-contact was all the two men did for a moment. All sounds in the room blanket out and then Freed leaned forward slowly to press a kiss against Laxus' lips.

But just when their lips were about to come into contact, somebody softly cleared his throat right behind their chairs. It caused them both to blink and their noses almost bumped slightly when they turned their heads in unison to find that none other than Master Makarov in his dwarf outfit had sought them out.

“I'm sorry for the interruption,” Makarov grinned up at them.

Laxus just rolled his eyes, the tiniest of blushes on his cheeks. “No gramps, yer not.”

“Well well, looks like you got me there.” He gave them both a far too wide smile but then tilted his head to the side in sincere curiosity. It was obvious that he's had the one or other mug of sake already but it wasn't enough to have him completely wasted. “Are you two having fun? Have you eaten something already?”

“No, not yet,” Freed replied after lightly clearing his throat himself and offering a small polite smile in return. “But we certainly plan on doing so.”

Laxus was just glad that his grandpa hadn't planned some stupid event for the Halloween party. He had a way of thinking of the most embarrassing stuff to ever exist and he could do without that.

“You should, you should.” Makarov nodded to emphasize his words before he let his gaze wander around the filled hall. Erza had successfully kept Natsu and Gray from fighting and was now sitting with Bisca while Alzack was giving little Asuka in her witch costume a piggyback ride. Lucy and Wendy were chattering happily before Natsu jumped into the scene and hugged them close. Cana and Mirajane were sitting somewhere, cuddled up close, and listened to Gajeel and Juvia bickering softly. Elfman and Evergreen had found one another but looked unsure about how to act around each other.

The guild's Master turned his attention back to the couple in front of him. Freed and Laxus had merely observed him in silence and waited for him to say something else. He surely must have approached them for a reason?

“I'm happy for you, brat.” He briefly looked at the dragon slayer, the smile gone but loving joy in his eyes before he turned to Freed. “And you, too, Freed. You two have my unconditional support, I hope you know that. But now go and have some fun or try something from the buffet before everything tasty is gone.” Makarov instinctively squinted at Natsu before he turned around and headed towards where the alcohol was located.

That was definitely not what the two men had expected. Not that they had known what to expect anyway but this small reminder left especially Laxus speechless for a moment. It wasn't like Makarov had never sensed that something was going on between the two. Freed had been in love with Laxus for quite a while whilst it was far more of a slow realization for Laxus. It took a while until they became official but Master Makarov had never expressed anything else than his joy and support for them, praising how he'd always seen it coming anyway.

The dragon slayer was so caught off guard, and inwardly happy, that he even temporarily forgave his grandpa for calling him a fucking brat again.

“Well, that was unexpected.” The rune mage said calmly and glanced at his boyfriend again after watching Makarov leave their side.

“Yea. No idea what the old man's thinkin.” Laxus furrowed his thick brows. “'course we know that.” But it was nice to hear it again. After almost losing his grandpa their bond had grown even closer in silence and he was so utterly thankful that the old geezer wasn't gone for good. He may not always be the best at expressing it but he sure loved him a lot. The entire guild did. It would just be different without the occasional bickering with his gramps.

Freed nodded in agreement but he too felt quite happy about this reassurance. It wasn't like he ever doubted that they had Makarov's approval but it was still nice to hear again. Smiling, the Raijinshuu's captain exhaled softly. “But I think we should take his advice and try something from the buffet.”

And they did. Their Master hadn't lied when he hyped the buffet. The taste of the food was exquisite and the variety astounding.

After eating something Freed and Laxus had the one or other conversation with some of their friends and apparently Bixlow was tipsy enough to let himself get dragged onto the dance floor by Lisanna and Lucy. It made for a quite hilarious view though the girls seemed to be having fun while Cana had laid out some of her cards and was entertaining Juvia, Levy and a quite skeptical Gajeel with her fortune telling.

“You want another drink?” Laxus asked as after he came back from the bathroom and allowed himself to wrap his strong arms around his boyfriend's waist who was looking up at him.

“Later. I don't plan on ending up intoxicated.” He hadn't been able to avoid slight tipsiness but that was hardly an issue. Freed knew he had to be careful though; not many of them got blessed with a high tolerance for alcohol. “What about you?”

Laxus shrugged. “I'll take another beer, I guess. I dunno what they put in there but it's fucking delicious,” he thought out loud and then emitted a soft snort when he felt Freed fumble with his red cape. “Havin' fun?”

“Am I not allowed to like your outfit?”

When his boyfriend arched up a brow at him again the dragon slayer couldn't help but give a deep chuckle and turned away without another word, ready to head back to the main hall.

But then he felt Freed getting a hold of his wrist with a grip as firm as it could be from a swordsman only and that was more than enough to get Laxus' utter attention again.

With a determined tug the rune mage dragged the broader man with him as he vanished around the near corner in one single movement and once they were standing in the faded light of the hall way Freed leaned back against the wall and cupped the lightning mage's face in order to tug him down for a kiss.

Caught off guard but pleasantly so the taller man went with it without wasting a single thought and resisting the gesture of affection. A quiet growl slipped past Laxus' lips when a little more urge came to surface and he pressed up against Freed's body just a bit more.

Encouraged by the movement and the sound of his boyfriend the captain gave a calculated nip to Laxus' lower lip and when he got the tiny groan he wanted to educe from him he boldly slipped his tongue into his mouth, giving the quietest of pleased groans as well when he felt Laxus' tongue brush against his own.

The kiss didn't last as long as they would wish for it to but it was enough to leave them blissfully breathless for a moment or two and when Laxus withdrew his head and brought a tad bit more space between their bodies again he looked down at his boyfriend with a small curve on his lips. “What was that for?” His voice a rumbling whisper, his hands found Freed's hips and gently stroked up his sides for a moment. He didn't want to ruffle his neat outfit after all.

“I just wanted to kiss you.” It was a simple answer but it was just as true. A loving smirk on his lips the rune mage rested his head against the wall behind him. “And I wanted a moment just for the two of us before we head back to the main hall.”

“Makes sense.” Laxus grinned, love in his orange eyes. If he was to decide then he had absolutely no objections staying here for just a while longer. “Ya think I can I get another one?”~

Freed blinked once at the question but then rolled his eyes in a playful manner before he leaned up to press a chaster kiss against his boyfriend's lips.

“Thanks.”

The rune mage just smiled before adjusting his glasses and straightening his shirt just in case. Laxus' armor had been hard against his own body but he didn't mind. Not when he was kissing the love of his life. Freed didn't take note of the spark in the lightning dragon slayer's orange eyes as he was busy admiring his attractive appearance for a couple of heartbeats so his boyfriend directing another question at him took him by slight surprise.

“So... when will I get to see yer Hulk? Later tonight?”

And Freed didn't understand, not at the very first moment. Perhaps it was because he had been distracted a moment before or perhaps it was because he hadn't expected Laxus to make such a playful, suggestive comment right now but when the dragon slayer shot an obvious look down at Freed's crotch he understood.

“That's...” The rune mage blinked again. But then he couldn't stop the one single deep laughter that slipped between his lips. “I cannot believe you said that right now. That's a really bad pick-up line.” He shook his head, cheeks flushed softly. Honestly, this man!

“Hey, I was complimentin' ya and it's fittin', isn't it?” There was something happy in Laxus' grin and eyes that only Freed ever got to witness and in the end the dragon slayer gave a quiet chuckle as well. He leaned down to give the rune mage a second quick kiss before they both agreed to go back to the main hall before anybody would miss them. The evening had passed by pretty fast but there was still the one or other hour to go and they wanted to spend them together with his friends.

There would be enough alone time at home.

When they stepped back into the hall it looked as though Mirajane had started a karaoke challenge. Gray and Natsu were battling with each other, what sounded pretty hilarious, and Erza was preparing herself for the next song. Bixlow's cackling along with the chanting of his babies could be heard coming from some other corner and all in all everyone seemed pretty happy.

Freed looked to the side just in time for Laxus' gaze to meet his own and he couldn't stop the anew smile from appearing and the other returned it with a twitch of his lips. Their fingers touched for a second, an absolutely purposeful movement, and after another moment of just looking at each other the dragon slayer began to walk over to the table Evergreen and Cana were sitting at.

“I'll pick up my hammer once these idiots are done singin'. Can't wait to see Natsu's face,” Laxus declared and grinned to himself while Freed watched the karaoke group for a moment before looking back at his boyfriend, smirking lovingly.

He was sure that they would indeed be having some more fun this successfull party night.

[kalimarsdreamlog]

Dream 137: I'm Not a Vampire, Really! Aka Double Spirits

This one gets a tad weird and rambly, but this is another one of my favorites, enough so that I’ve drawn soooooo much stuff for it. Only a few illustrations are here for the time being because a lot of them are crossovers, but all will be posted in time! Why are the others crossovers? Well, actually, I’m writing a story based on many of my favorite dreams, with this one happening to form the main structure. Anyway, moving on!

​Oh, and by the way, I had this dream BEFORE I got into Yu-Gi-Oh. Just putting that out there.

-

So I dreamt that I got killed by some tribe of people way long ago, but they put me on this altar that brought me back to life. I think it was punishment for offending them, though I don’t remember how. Granted it had come down to a fight, me vs four or five of them. They had these two-pronged spear-looking things and wore very little armor. I can infer that they did not fear death, between their little armor and the fact that they made me immortal as punishment for my alleged crimes. Anyway, I came back after bleeding out, but my spirit split into two different parts. (More under the cut)

(Excuse the gore. Couldn’t get this out of my head until I drew it. Somewhat ironically, this was done on the back of a forensics worksheet. I had already taken the blood unit in forensics so the spatters are all meticulously done to tell a story. Anyway, moving on.)

​Each half got different powers. Since we were already dead, we both basically got immortality. It was a middle-earth type world that we were in, just to explain why I got killed by a tribal people and why stone altars worked. (I was confused about why they just let me bleed out on the darn thing instead of just getting it over with) I was also very male because back then women weren’t allowed to go out adventuring or to war. Anyway, I was the more serious of the two halves of my spirit, and I came out of the ordeal looking younger than I had before, while the half who actually had a sense of humor (but not obnoxiously so) came out looking the same age as before I was killed. For some reason, he became a vegetarian. Also for some reason we both had to consume different things to keep up our powers and our health. My powers (other than flight) were all oil and plastic-based. It was weird. I sweated plastic and could control engines because I could control the oil, and I could melt and re-set plastic at will. I was also pretty good at fighting because of the time I came from. My other half though? I have no idea. He was really smart and for some reason I looked up to him, but I don’t remember what his powers were. We could normally read each other’s feelings if we weren’t too many miles away from each other because we were both originally the same person.

​My other half was better at faking our way into records in society. He was smarter academically and strategically. I was stronger, had more common sense, and relied on my instincts. He got the positive emotions, while I got the negative ones. It didn’t normally matter when we were together though, since we shared each other’s feelings, and between the two of us we had a full range of emotion. One thing that I had that he didn’t was the power of flight (because I can always fly in dreams) and a weakness to sunlight. We couldn’t figure out why.

​Years, decades, at least a century passed. We had gone through schools, orphanages, families, wars, streets, and lots of houses over time. I looked about sixteen, and he looked eighteen to twenty. Of course we aced our history classes when we took them. Some time in the middle I lost track of him. I couldn’t even feel his emotions anymore. I was alone. For someone as old as I was it wouldn’t have been so bad, but we had just been sparring in the street and even though I was more powerful he STILL beat me in one tough hit.

(Ignore the bad math grade on the other side please)

​He was the only one who could do that. My powers exhausted me quickly, so when we were faced with a semi barreling down the street all we could do was hang on to the underside until it stopped. Well, I was weak from exhaustion (and losing the fight) and couldn’t hang on, and I rolled to a stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I yelled for him to let go until I passed out.

When I woke up it was dark and I couldn’t feel his presence. I had been on the side of the road in the sun for hours, and I feebly flew around in an effort to find my other half back. Without him I was only half a person. I eventually got lost and checked myself into an orphanage to have a place to stay for the night since I didn’t know the way “home.“ 

I was sent to school the next morning, where people thought I was a vampire because of my aversion to sunlight and the fact that I knew so much more about the last wars than I should have. On the bus afterwards I was eating some candy and someone pointed at me and said, “Hey! The vampire’s got blood in his mouth! He must have bitten someone!”

​“I don’t have blood in my mouth…” I put my hand up to my mouth to check and it came back covered in red. I THOUGHT it was the candy, but you know it was starting to taste an awful like blood… “What the shit?” Everyone took that to mean that I was indeed a vampire, and INSTANT SOCIAL OUTCAST. I guess my answer to this one girl’s question didn’t help either.

​“What does it taste like?” She asked.

​“Haven’t you ever tasted blood before?” Was my ever tactless response. Seriously though, most people know the taste of blood, right? Sucked on a finger with a paper-cut, accidentally bit your tongue, got hit in the face or some lethal wound that left you coughing up your life? No? Oh wait that was just me. Well then.

​I eventually left that orphanage (and school) before they could notice that I wasn’t aging. I wasn’t sure where to go next, so I was on the streets for a while. That was fine. I got by for another couple years. I found one of our old houses from when we could still blend in enough to have friends. It was old now, very old, having been from a time when places like the Shire were considered modern. (Some decades since then the world modernized a bit. The bus is a good example.) Anyway, I lived there for a little bit which was a fairly happy time. Someone bought the house though (I was basically squatting on the property) who happened to be a priest. Being a good Samaritan, she said she needed some company anyway and would be happy to share with me if she could be my surrogate parent. A bit of an odd request, but who was I to refuse? 

So one day I left the bathroom after a shower and sneezed. She politely said, “bless you,” and since she was a priest suddenly the water in my hair turned into holy water and GOD DANG IT FELT LIKE MY SCALP WAS ON FIRE and I was reduced to screaming profanities while trying to dry my hair as fast as possible without burning my hands too.

​“Thanks, ‘MOM!’” Augh! I really wasn’t a bloody vampire, why did holy water hurt me?! Dang stupid tribe.

​After drying my hair enough that it only felt like it was being sunburned I hurriedly pulled on some clothes and fled from the house. It was nice but now the head of the church thought (correctly?) that I was some unholy demon and I did NOT need an entire church after me. I started up the engine of the nearest car via petroleum-powers, hopped in and then turbo charged said engine using said powers to make my escape as fast as possible. Some miles away I was boxed in by four other vehicles and forced to stop in, surprise! The middle of nowhere again! Way more people than I expected poured out of the cars, all armed with fists, knives, and several classic anti-monster things. I could take the former. I was a decently skilled fighter back in the day after all, now with countless lifetimes of practice. But could I fight them all off without exhausting myself, in the sun, with no weapons and probably against things I didn’t even know could hurt me yet? I was filled with determination not my own, and threw the first punch.

​I heard another engine pull up and hoped it wasn’t another car of enemies to fight. But when the door opened I was hit with a wave of emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time. My other half!! He had…grown? I thought about it (still fighting of course) and realized that I had probably aged a bit in his absence as well. If we had aged while we were apart, albeit slowly, then being together must have stopped that somehow before. So we were stronger when we were together, huh? With him back, this fight was sure to be easy!

​Oh so he got stabbed at some point during the fight and it looked like liquid nitrogen poured out and froze his enemies. So I guess he had either air or ice powers? Actually I think it was air. That would explain how he was able to take me out with one hit so easily. He must have used air pressure to power the force behind his hit.

-

​This dream left me in a weird, quiet mood for a long time after having it. I got so used to waiting and watching the world go by in the dream without really interacting or getting involved with the world that I was pretty spacey once I woke up. To be fair, I had spent what felt like years as a different person. People kept asking me what was wrong. Oops?

-

If you’re curious, the other drawing was of me/him on the bus discovering that the candy looked like blood. 

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