#breakfast is a construct meant to limit students and make them feel bad

[candymayvary]

For the headcanon spelling: Ryan and Hyun if you have time of course :)

Questions here!

Rayan

R: What are their hands like?

I kind of picture Rayan’s hands to have some signs of wear and tear, like maybe a little on the rougher side with callouses. Whether that comes from work or something else, it’s just something that kind of stuck. Also, I do actually imagine him having pretty decently sized hands too. You can take that as an innuendo or not, but it’s one of those things that’s only noticeable when close enough.

A: What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?

Despite the art, and maybe the history exactly, I think Rayan would’ve been the all rounder, really, with everything else. Like, decent enough to maintain high grades, but not enough to especially standout in anything.

Y: What is one question they’ve always wanted an answer to?

“Will this be worth it?”

A: What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?

Subbed for G: How do they flirt?

I think if Rayan was actually straight up interested, he’d be pretty direct with flirting. Maybe ease whoever it is into it, with the smile and the eye contact, and the open body language that just begs for people to lean in in response. Also, taking into account that he can apparently charm an entire room into silence just by power of voice alone, I don’t think he’s unaware of the affect he has on people. If someone came along and caught his attention, I think Rayan would make them the absolute centre.

N: What do they usually eat for breakfast?

Rayan is probably that One Teacher who gets up and has muesli with berries and yoghurt with an apple afterwards and some orange juice. That one teacher who has some sort of shit together. That, or he’s an absolute wreck who has never heard of the concept of breakfast in 20 years.

Hyun

H: What is their deadly sin?

I wanna put Hyun’s down as gluttony, as we seem him overdo it anyway. I mean, you can slip lust into it as well, as it’s that blind motivation that caused him to go out of his way to make sure Candy was the only applicant, but I lean a little more towards gluttony. Hyun seems to be a glutton for attention, punishment, indulgence... Just my interpretation so far, anyway.

Y: What is one question they’ve always wanted an answer to?

“Will I get another chance?”

U: What’s their voice like?

I kind of pictured his voice at a relatively inviting pitch, not too deep, but can easily drop and rise depending on the highest emotion. Controlled and careful, Hyun maintains a calming drag with letters, keeps a pretty steady pace no matter what, and I wouldn’t put it past him to be able to just completely break all that in the presence of partying.

N: What do they usually eat for breakfast?

Breakfast is whatever he can get in before classes, or it’s whatever is available on break when working. Breakfast is a social construct, and can be eaten at any time of day, if one has enough confidence.

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (9/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 9/? (2000 words)

Author’s notes : I’m trying to get the chapters a more consistent length, I think 2000-2500 is good ! Means I’ll be able to work more consistently, but please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think about it ! Also, sorry for all the build-up, but a girl’s gotta set the decor a bit !

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During the following weeks, the presence of the Count became almost familiar. Every day, he waited for me with a different kind of pastry. I tried to protest at first, but quickly had to make my peace with it. At some point, seeing me wince at my terrible coffee, he forbade me to drink it anymore, and added that to my daily breakfast. I asked him exactly once why he insisted on feeding me, to which he replied that he liked my blood healthy, with a toothy grin. I hit him over the arm, he laughed. Other than that, he was careful not to step over my boundaries, and seemed to find the way to only be there at the appropriate time.

That was not the case for Leah, however, who was delighted to see Vlad was going to be a recurring presence in our lives. The two of them got along far better than I would have wanted. Vlad especially enjoyed playing along with her when she started asking probing questions about the both of us, although I had to admit he was an expert at deviating any question that could have revealed his true nature.

It took me some time to fully realize how much he had actually seen, and lived. He died around the 1470s, which meant he had all the time in the world to see the Sistine Chapel being painted, the construction of the Eiffel Tower, or the damn french Revolution. He could have just been a very polyvalent historian, which is what I told Leah. She interpreted that as a challenge, considering he and I were, as she put it, “introverted nerds who need to see the light of the sun once in a goddamn while”. She started dragging us along in random activities. There was a pottery class, to which I was barely able to make the Leaning Flower Pot Of Pisa, while she somehow made an incredible owl sculpture, and Vlad had made a delicate greek-inspired vase. Seeing him, sleeves rolled up over his elbows, hair tied up in a ponytail, his long fingers working in precise, expert gestures, probably had noting to do with my absolute failure to make anything correct. I decided then that manual activities were a no-go for me in the car ride, where I sulked on the backseat, while Leah and Vlad were still crying-laughing about my sorry excuse for a pot.

After the rousing success of that experience, she wasn't about to stop. We did a haunted castle themed escape game, which Vlad curiously sucked at. That would explain some stuff. Leah then found out that a Renaissance faire was taking place in a small town, about an hour or two outside the city, and decided we definitely had to go. I tried to pretend I had too much work and wouldn't be able to make it, but Vlad and her insisting, I caved, and marked down my calendar with the red pen of defeat.

Being stuck in period costumes with the both of them wasn't the only reason I tried protesting. Laurent really did throw a ton of work on my shoulders, and that wasn't considering the whole Stephan Helder situation. The kid was highly motivated, sure, but he started making me feel uneasy, for some reason. After all my classes, he came to chat, and always found a way to ask questions about Vlad. Strangely phrased questions, or about how he couldn't find publications under his name. Legitimate questions, to be fair, but his insistence was bugging me.

“I'm telling you, that is weird. Those are weird questions”, I told Vlad, sitting on my windowsill. He didn't react. “I am serious, what if he knew ?”

“How would he know ?”, he sighed. “Why would he even want to know ?”

“Well, that's a fair question. Which needs an answer, don't you think ?”

He tilted his head, softly smiling. “I think you are being a bit paranoid.”

“I spend most of my free time hanging out with an immortal murder-machine, I think I deserve the right to be a bit paranoid”, I snapped.

“Fair enough”, he laughed.

Being immortal had to have dulled his sense of danger. Although, I could see how a skinny 20-year-old medieval history student wouldn't spontaneously raise red flags.

“By the way, I am going back to Romania”, he told me.

I felt a small pinch to my heart. “Oh.”

“Only for a few days”, he completed with a smirk. “I have to pick up some things, and oversee the moving company. I do not trust them with half my things.”

I furrowed my brow. “Moving company ?”

“Oh, did I not mention it ?”, he innocently replied. “Before I even arrived, I bought a little something a little ways outside the city. The renovations are done, and you of all people understand I cannot live there without a decent library.”

I took a second to process it. He had a smug look, obviously enjoying my confusion. I had to say I didn't even think about where he spent his nights. I figured he either turned into a bat and hanged somewhere upside down, or simply didn't sleep. Did he even need to rest ? Gods, so many questions I didn't even think to ask. Every day, I felt like I discovered a puddle, only to realize it was part of a lake.

“When I come back, would you come visit ?”, he asked, sounding a bit hesitant.

“Sure. I mean, as long as I don't have to wear heels if you decide to go feral on me.”

He took a dead-serious expression. “I promise you, Eris Cetero, that as long as you live, I will never, ever, make you wear heels again.”

I threw my head back with a groan of agony. Was it so bad that this kind of humor was actually funny to me now ? Was having a six century old bloodthirsty creature imply he might try to murder me again really that hilarious ? Apparently so, as I was unable to contain a giggle. Maybe it was because the look he had was all but threatening. Maybe because every time I was near him, even with all that happened, I felt... Safe. For a few weeks, I had been able to decide staying over at the University library until ungodly hours. I didn't have to thing about what time I had to leave at before it became too risky for a woman with very limited knowledge of martial arts, alone.

I mean, he was arguably more dangerous than any encounter I might have had, but still... I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Then again, he had plenty of occasions to lose it. Last week, for instance, I had no idea what to expect when I left my apartment, dosed with painkillers, as Mother Nature, that ruthless bitch, decided to drop by for her monthly visit.  He was simply waiting for me at the usual spot, looking a bit off, but holding a large box of chocolates along with my breakfast. He made himself scarce for the following three days, but I could tell he tried to act natural.

“I should let you get some rest”, Vlad told me, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I nodded, slowly. “When are you leaving ?”

“Some time tomorrow. I will still pick you up, if that is what worries you.”

He smiled, teasing. “Yeah, that's... That's it. I'd miss my personal chauffeur.” I looked away a second. “Now, get off my window, I need to sleep.”

“Of course, my Lady”, he replied, and backed away with an overly low bow. “I bid you good night.”

Once again, with a fluttering sound, the usual bat replaced the tall man. I called out to him, offering my hand as a perch. The tiny black creature gripped a finger. I would have expected a Vampire Bat, to be fair, and almost laughed when I realized it was a common little brown bat, only changing in the darker color.

“Well, don't you look adorable”, I told him.

I could take a more frightening appearance, if you want me to.

“Telepathy, huh ? That's new”, I commented. Nothing surprised me that much anymore, to be honest.

I try not to pry, it's usually considered rude.

“You don't say.”

He stretched out his wings. They were so thin I could see the tiny veins running across the membrane. I had to use all my will not to just scoop him up and pet his tiny head, or scratch his belly. Now, that would have been rude. Probably. Those kind of reflexions were a bit new to me.

I would stay here all night if I could, but I am starting to feel a bit hungry.

“Oh, by all means. I won't keep you.”

I heard a small squeaky sound I interpreted as a laugh, and he left. I closed the window, and the quiet made me rethink the situation. If he was gone, that would leave me some time to look into the Helder situation without him interfering. Now, I just needed the help of my favorite professional stalker. With a little smile, I slipped under my covers, and almost instantly faded into sleep.

~ ~ ~

After Vlad let me off at the University, he only came over to say hi to Leah, and announce his departure. He left right after, with a kiss for her hand, and one for my forehead.

“Do you need some ice ? You look pretty hot”, she snarked at me once he was gone. “A cold shower, perhaps ?”

“Oh, shut up, will you ?”, I groaned, placing the back of my hands onto my cheeks.

She snickered. She was the best friend I could ever hope to have, but man, as soon as someone was involved, she became absolutely unbearable.

“By the way, I need your help with something”, I told her, lowering my voice a little.

“Oooh, sneaky voice, I like it already. Tell me.”

I brought her inside, and we went straight to my office, a small, cluttered room in the old building. I dragged a folding chair next to mine, behind the heavy wooden desk.

“I'm having a weird feeling about a transfer student”, I told her. “I wondered if you could-”

Before I could even finish my sentence, she had already taken out her laptop, her glasses sitting on her nose. She turned on a bunch of apps she left running in the background, and turned to me.

“Name ?”

“Stephan Helder, with 'ph'”, I told her.

I kind of felt bad about it. If it was nothing, I was just prying into his personal life – or having Leah pry, anyway. She began typing away, and in less than three minutes, she had results. Stephan Jonathan Helder, 18, your typical genius type. Skipped a few middle-school classes, finished high-school at 15, with straight-As. Spotless criminal record, less so for the medical one, with a few bad cases of pulmonary infections. Didn't have one in years, though. Seemed like he was from a good family, but then again, no information on them showed up. Huh. I asked Leah to look into them.

“That's crazy”, she said after a good five minutes. “I mean, there's barely anything.”

“You mean he's an orphan, or something ?”

“No, it's just blacked out. I mean, most of the stuff has been scraped, erased.”

She sounded annoyed, but also excited. I knew she loved a challenge.

“Nothing I can't break”, she commented, and went back to it.

After a few more minutes, she finally had a triumphal shout.

“Got 'em”, she told me. “Stephan Jonathan Helder, the father is Thomas Mark Helder, and the mother is Mary... Huh. That's a cool name.”

“What is ?”, I asked, leaning over her shoulder to read.

My blood froze in my veins instantly.

Mary Van Helsing.

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