#redacted alexis solaire mentioned

[themonotonysyndrome]

You just got Rick Rolled!

I have no excuse.

Watch Max0r videos on Youtube :)

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Summary: Bright Eyes is ready to pull a deadbeat dad.

The duffel bag underneath the bed is ready to go. Pockets are stuffed with wads of stolen cash. 

All they need to do is swipe an armful of blood bags from the Clan’s cold storage for the long road ahead. 

William Solaire standing between them and the milk aisle was not part of the plan. Nor his sad, puppy eyes.

Fucking damn it. 

-

In the grand scheme of things called life, Bright Eyes is not a main character. 

Main characters are people like Frederick, who’s worthy of second chances because he vomits out his heart to those who demand it. Vincent, with his flashy smile and equally flashy cars that caters to single simps who dream of being swept away by a set of 2000-era vampiric TV tropes. Sam, who you can’t hate because he’s not just a bitch, no, no - he’s a bitch with a backstory who just so happens to love to pretend that Bright doesn’t exist on a good day and won’t stop bitching why they’re the modern incarnation of Satan on the worst. Oh! We can’t forget the poster child of Byronic Hero which is Tank. They’re a fan fav for a reason.   

In a world of main characters, Bright Eyes could hardly hold a candle to the people around them. If anything, they’re an NPC. The glitchiest NPC to ever exist in this Skyrim of a world. 

The kind that was brought into the story to be shitted on by the audience because they either don’t meet up to lofty expectations or weren’t the perfect victim.

Is it getting too close to home now? 

Bright has no problem being an NPC - hell, they don’t even mind that there was no space for them on the picture wall that consists of Sam, Frederick, and Tank - they still have their pride, as shitty as it is. Why the fuck would they want to stay at a place where no one wants an NPC that fucks up the whole gameplay? Nah, fam - Bright has been preparing for their getaway on the same night they woke up with an angry Sam sitting beside the bed. 

The Summit expedited the plan. 

While they and Frederick were expected to show up at the undead shindig, being Clan members and all, Sam worried it might overwhelm his Progeny. Apparently, older Vamps enjoy stabbing each other with words and dinner knives after the third course. Sounds like Bright’s kind of people. But because Frederick was benched, so were they. It’s cool, it’s fine. Silver linings and all that. It gave Bright lots of opportunities to pack their meagre shits into a worn-out duffel bag from the store room and steal whatever cash they could find around the house while Frederick was asleep. Vampiric hearing rocks! Sure, they were curious as to why Sam and Tank came back looking like they just witnessed a train wreck, and Vincent seldom came over with his trademark smirks anymore, but since no one tells them anything, Bright chalked it up as another Tuesday. Not their circus, not their monkeys. 

Whatever happened at the Summit isn’t their problem. Missing the last bus to Ferris is.  

Earlier that evening, they made a show of getting ready for bed after Sam left to meet Tank for something, and they can’t bear to look Frederick in the eyes, knowing that this will be the last time they will ever see each other. Not that he knows, but hey, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? So they collapse onto the mattress, willing themselves to be calm because anything less will have Frederick peeking his head through the door. So they close their eyes until the bond between Progeny and Maker whispers to Bright that Frederick is unconscious. The rose detergent on the pillows and duvet itches their nose. They hate the smell but they can’t forget how wide Frederick smiles just because they accepted a bouquet of roses from him once. It’s not rocket science that all of the previous lavender scents on linens were replaced with rose soon after that. 

Bright Eyes is so exhausted of sustaining themselves on the pitiful sweetness of their once friend turned Maker. Not when the bitterness that comes from Sam is gradually killing them. 

They get up and take a good, long bath. It's probably the only one they’ll be getting for a while, so they’re making the most of the soap and shampoo. They continue to ignore the sweet, floral scent clinging to their body. Then they dig through the closet for a jacket covered in patches and a ripped pair of jeans - the clothes their parents bought for their birthday, now worn with time. The clothes that they wore on the night they were murdered. Then they spend half an hour checking everything for one last time. Anyone can tell by a single glance that Bright Eyes is a walking charity case. It’s cool, it’s fine. No one cares about runaway people all the time. They’re statistics. 

Their stomach flips when Bright stalks across the hall like a ghost. A part of them wanted Frederick to catch them in mid-act, to convince them to stay so they could work things out for good. The part that loathed Bright, however, hisses to remove the glitch in this game. 

Once the front door is locked behind them, Bright wipes their eyes and hoists the duffel bag strap firmly on their shoulder. The abandoned theme park will be their last stop in Dahlia. 

-

Wonder World will forever be a sight for sore eyes. 

Like the Clan, the place is a living corpse. It should have been destroyed, put all the bad memories to rest, but instead, it transformed into a hideout for the walking dead. Hah. 

Bright keeps a good healthy distance from the Vampires that are on shift, listens well to the chatters in dark corners, and avoids slipping underneath awnings that will collapse on top of them if they so much as breathe. They memorised the schedule for this specific night, and it paid off. No one notices them skulking towards the cold storage. See, new batches of blood will be delivered tomorrow, so no one will find out that a couple of leftovers will be missing. Fingers might be pointed at Bright, but by then, they’ll be long gone. A footnote in their lives. 

The fridge greets Bright when they sneak in through the open window, no different than a racoon. Their entry wasn’t as smooth as James Bond’s because their kneecap bumped against the nearby table. Luckily, no one heard it. 

“A+, A+, more A+… you’re fucking kidding me? B-? Beggars can’t be choosers, Bright. Food’s food.” They grumble to themselves as the fridge is raided. They stuffed as many blood bags into the bag as they could. 

Suddenly, the door gently opens. Bright Eyes turn around. Their eyes widen in horror because - 

“Little Bright? Is that you?” William Solaire, the fucking king of every magical equivalent of Schrödinger Cat in Dahlia, tilts his head in question as if to better see them. Standing between them and their freedom. What the fuck, how the fuck, why in the actual fuck!? “I didn’t mean to interrupt your break time. Ah… how are you? Lately, I haven’t had the pleasure of…” Here’s where Bright could only watch in frozen shock when William’s eyes met with the duffel bag and stuffed pockets.  

Hubris is the downfall of many great men. In Bright’s case, it’s stupidity. They really should’ve come up with a backup plan for something like this. That’s on them. They’ll take that L like the underdog they are. 

The two of them shatter the awkward silence by speaking at once. 

“This isn’t what it looks like!” 

“Did you just went through the window?” 

Cue the stares. Wait. There’s something they need to try. 

“Dinosaur in the museum say what?” 

“What?” 

Bright promptly snaps their mouth shut. Don’t laugh. For the love of Reddit Mods, don’t laugh at the most dangerous grandpa in the world. While Bright manages to avoid death via lectures, their shaking shoulders give William the wrong impression. Thinking that the youngest Vampire in his care is shaking with fear at the sight of him pulled on William’s heartstrings. He had always harboured a sadness for not being able to connect with Bright Eyes the way he does with Frederick. The boy is often quiet but perks like a sunflower when you give him the right attention. Bright, on the other hand, scampers away the moment you turn your back. No gentle words or amount of glitter bombs as presents could entice them to drop the walls fiercely guarding their heart. 

William’s heart twists and turns into a knot - more so lately - seeing how Bright Eyes tremble. 

“It’s alright, Little One. You’re alright. The blood bags are for anyone who is in need.” William kindly assures them. “It’s unlike Sam to forget and restock for his household. I supposed our recent conversation has put him out of sorts.” 

“Wait. You think I’m hungry?” 

“Is that not why you brought that bag over - ”

“Yeah, yeah! Pssh, totally! Sam was getting testerical about the lack of bloodshed in the house. Not the fun kind, though.” Bright Eyes fib as they ramble on, their little tell-tale sign of attempting to smother the panic. They refuse to fidget or look away from William’s eyes. Is it a trick of the light? Is Bright high? Why are they wet near the corners? “Uh… c-can I go now? I need to dip to the grocery store for some milk… you know how it is…” 

For some reason, that made the Vampire King flinch. What the hell!? Anyone walking by would think that Bright is bullying him! 

But William lets out a gust of air, heavy and somehow reluctant. He steps aside to present the open door where the world that allowed Tom Howard to live is waiting for Bright. “Of course, Little One. I shouldn’t keep you from your errands.” 

“Lit! So this is me, walking away now…” Bright Eyes warily sidesteps William, who is still giving a strong kicked puppy vibe. Which is insane to comprehend. 

Something about it, however, made them turn around to look at him one final time. Due to the hilariously huge gap between a king and his peasant, Bright has only seen William thrice from afar, and that’s during really important events where they can’t fake a seizure and escape - 

“Bright, Vampires don’t get seizures.” 

“Until now. Quick, pretend you actually care and drag me out.” 

“…Low blow, Bright, and you know it. Why do you never listen when I’m - aaand you’re already on the floor. Great.” 

- so they’re left with them being sandwiched between a highly amused Lovely and a distracted Vincent because their beau is flashing their ankles or something. Bright doesn’t want to know or care. What they do care about is that thanks to Frederick sulking off somewhere, they are now in the spotlight because the prince of the entire damn clan is holding onto their elbow. Random Vampires snicker when they pass by their group, and whenever Bright flips them off, some of them actually laugh! Bright will never understand these deadbeats. But anyway, because of Frederick, Bright has the front row of William in all his fancy ass clothes, in a shiny crown that blinded Bright and a million-dollar smile that rubs them off the wrong way. Fuckers with a max level on charms give them the hives. 

So this melancholic shroud that drapes over his shoulders so heavily that Bright might as well ask if it’s made of lead with how it makes William look so small in the shadows? Yeah, it’s giving red flags. 

And since Bright is colourblind with no filter whatsoever - 

“OK, why do you look like someone woke you up from a depression nap?” Bright demanded, marching back to William. It’s stupid. It’s borderline suicidal, but hey, Bright was never known to make decisions that align with their self-preservation. That’s something their murderer and both Makers will agree on. Tonight, curiosity wins. “Usually you’re very…” They scrunch up their face, trying to think of the perfect words. 

William raises an eyebrow. “Very?” 

“Very shiny.” Bright nods, pleased with themselves. “The kind of shiny that’s like fire in Chinese factories after every election.” 

“I… see. I’m starting to understand why Samuel complain of migraines every now and then.” 

Even as he said that, William began to smile fondly. That threw Bright off a little. He said that without derision and they have no idea how to react. 

“Uh, right. So what’s up?” 

“Can’t a man be caught in his own sorrow every now and then?” 

“But you’re not supposed to be angsty. You’re the King. Your world is supposed to be perfect and all that shit.” Unlike mine, is what Bright didn’t say. 

William’s smile turns rueful. He surprises them by admitting, “Would you like to know a secret, Little Bright? My world hasn’t been perfect lately. How can it be when my loved ones are leaving one by one.” 

Oh, fuck them, is William trauma dumping right now? Deadass? Is this trauma dumping!? Bright didn’t consent to this!

Wait - leaving? Who’s leaving too? 

…Is it any of Bright’s business, though? When they’re doing the same thing tonight? 

This scene feels familiar. It’s like the time they steal a sip from a man in his late fifties while he’s in the middle of a divorce and struggling with alimony. Bright was looking for food, not someone’s entire life story that, in the end, they paid for an Uber and sent him on his way. The point is, there’s no fun in kicking someone who’s already eating dirt. That’s not enough room in Wonder World for two miserable fuckers, so Bright might as well do something about it. 

“C’mon, let’s go. We’re going on a side quest right now.” Bright demands, and fuck it, they grab one of William’s hands and drag him to the exit. Does it say something that the Vampire King lets himself be led away like a cow? Probably, but Bright couldn’t care less.

The patrolling Vampires stare at them incredulously. None attempted even to approach the duo. 

“Is this a kidnapping?” William politely inquires. While Bright might’ve initiated the contact, he finds himself reluctant to let go of their smaller hand. It’s an anchor that he silently needed over these past few days. 

“That and robbery too. I’m gonna be needing your wallet since mine are non-existent. Which one is your car? Wait! Let me guess, the one on the right that looks like it just left the showroom a day ago.” 

“It’s actually this morning. I enjoy collecting Rolls Royce as much as I enjoy watching those exciting Bond movies.” 

“Sheesh, I guess it’s hereditary then. Ok, Goldfinger - take the wheel. We’re going to karaoke. Screaming into a mic is a legit form of therapy. Take it from me.” After dropping that nugget of wisdom, Bright and William enter the car. 

Before William speeds off from the driveway, he frowns and asks, “Why can’t I be James Bond?” 

Bright Eyes groans into their hands. 

-

It takes William Motherfucking Solaire crying into a microphone, singing Hurt by Christina Aguilera to convince Bright Eyes that something is wrong with the trajectory of their life. 

Seriously, what the fuck? 

Despite being one of the prettiest men who should be kept in a museum (isn’t he 5,000 years old or something?) William is an ugly crier. It doesn’t make any damn sense, but he sure ain’t got that damsel-in-distress tears like Cinderella. Bright could only grimace as they extended a box of tissues once William finished belting out the final verse. Their duffel bag mocks them from the door, the only exit from this room. The lamentation of Bright Eyes would be a sick-ass song. 

“The closest thing I have to a son, child-in-law, great grandson and friend are leaving me.” William confesses after blowing his nose. 

“Did I ask?” 

Much to Bright’s horror, William continues.  

“I wanted to be a leader and a father that I never had. A Maker that mine never was. All I wanted… was to protect my family. How did it all went wrong?” 

Oh, geez. William does not give a shit that Bright Eyes hasn’t unlocked his social link. All they wanted was to evict whatever funk was messing with his system like a landlord so they could run away in peace. Not play therapist! Now, the employees are nervously looking through that window on the door because a grown man is depleting their stock of tissue boxes by the minute while Bright is struggling to figure out how to comfort said grown man that doesn’t involve homicide. 

By the way, it took precisely ten minutes for William’s words to register in Bright’s crack-concentrated, addled spider monkey brain. 

Their eyes widen like the backside of a yogi mid-downward dog. “Time out. Back it up, dump truck. Vincent’s leaving? As in, leaving the Clan? Him and the rest of the main characters?” If Bright was still alive, their heart would beat frantically as their head spins in disbelief and betrayal. 

Frederick is leaving them? After everything? To follow what, Sam? And Vincent and Lovely? 

…Without even telling them? 

Numbness and Bright Eyes always have a strange relationship. Quinn draining their blood down to the last drop didn’t give Bright that all-encompassing numbness. It was only when they woke up again that did it. It feels like their bones just took a dip in a pond in the middle of Antarctica. They didn’t even realise they were crying until William gently wiped the tears with a tissue. It’s a testament to how the shocking numbness rooted Bright to the core because they would flinch away from any physical contact that they didn’t initiate after death. 

“You didn’t know.” William summarised with that same melancholy from Wonder World and that same sad smile. They hate it. They don’t deserve it Well! So much for karaoke therapy. Now Bright’s feeling like shit too. 

William leans back when Bright Eyes huffs and slumps against the cheap red sofa. They pretend that their nose isn’t itching when they sniffle as they angrily rub their red eyes. “Of course I didn’t know! I get that Sam wouldn’t tell me shit but I didn’t expect this knife in the back from Freddy!” They spit, and then words start to embarrassingly spill from their mouth before Bright could stop themselves. “I fucking hate this! Why can’t I do anything right!? Why can’t I stop making mistakes? Why do I always try for people who never even like me? Fuck, fuck, fuck this! I hate feeling like this! God, I’m so tired of-of everything!” Fun fact: Bright is also an ugly crier. Even more so than William at this point. Not that it matters because they’re too busy wailing and making a mess out of his shirt when he pulls them into a tight hug. 

A shirt that has more of a network compared to theirs, and Bright Eyes appropriate it by blowing their nose. 

When their crying tapers into hiccups, it’s William’s soothing hand behind their back that grounds Bright Eyes. Exhaustion finally sinks in, and they’re long for the rest in the forever box (coffin) already. 

“I’m… sorry, Little One.” 

“The hell for?” Bright Eyes scrunches their nose. Although William had released them from his embrace, Bright didn’t actually scoot away. Instead, they play the part of a finicky cat - pressing close to the older Vampire without acknowledging it. “You’re not Sam. I hardly even know you.” 

“And I regret it dearly. And I deeply apologised for the suffering that you had to endured under Samuel’s blatant negligence. If I had known earlier that the wounds caused by Alexis run deeper than he would like to admit, I would have intervened. I would have you in my care instead of his in a heartbeat.” 

“Alexis?” 

Here, William sighs. “My eldest Progeny and Samuel’s Maker.” 

“Why does he hate her so much that he took it out on me?” Bright hates how small their voice sounded to their own ears. They needed to know, though. They needed closure, and then maybe, finally, they’ll be able to move on somehow. 

William looks torn, clearly debating with himself. He sighed once more, but this time, it was with resignation. “It’s not my story to tell. However,” Seeing the crushed expression on poor Bright’s face, he decides to be honest towards someone who desperately needs it. Especially since they suffered not only at the hands of someone who was supposed to be their caretaker and teacher but also William’s own negligence. After the Adam incident, he should’ve kept a closer eye on his Clan instead of diverting this attention to other Houses. He owed this much to Bright Eyes and more. “You deserve the truth. Do you have some time to listen to an old man’s regrets?”

“I was supposed to clap my asscheeks to Ferris. So much for that. Actually, I guess it’s pretty hypocritical of me to get pissed off at Frederick for booking it since I was gonna do the same.” Bright’s grumbled, causing William to rear back in a start. But they press on. “So why the fuck not? Whose origin are you spilling? Wham Slam Bam Sam?” 

“…Yes. Two sins never cancel each other.” Something dark flashes over William’s beautiful face. The hair behind Bright’s neck freezes. “Yet I can’t help but find myself disappointed in Samuel’s behaviours more so than mine after tonight.” 

“Spill the tea, spill the tea! My life is already a German bedtime stories and besides, isn’t it so much fun when you focuses on someone’s L instead of yours!?” 

William simply rolled his eyes at their cheek, and so Bright Eyes made themselves comfortable as the Vampire King narrated a story of a daughter he dearly loved but could never understand, and in return, she was unable to understand those she loved. It was all very sad, and the tropes that William describes are all too familiar to Bright. Man, no wonder Alexis turned out to be a villainess like those in their favourite Korean romance manhwa. They wonder if reincarnation is a thing in this world. Would they reincarnate as one of Trisha Paytas’s babies, or is that exclusive to royalties? They made a mental note to ask William once story time was over. Anyway, Alexis and Sam’s history could be a Hozier’s album all on its own and Bright supposed they could muster up some form of sympathy for him if they have similar-sized bazoombas/chesticles as the Princess’, but alas, they don’t. For that, Bright can never forgive Sam for his projection. 

Frederick and their situation hit too close to home apparently, but just because he can’t dish it out on Alexis, does that justify him punishing Bright in her stead? Fuck that. 

Anger buzzes around Bright’s ears like angry hornets. They can’t be around Sam for at least 100 years now that they know the truth. Frederick and Tank can have him for all they care. 

They snatch the microphone again, prompting William’s curiosity. “Are we in for the next session of karaoke therapy?” 

Bright just searched for Grow A Pear by Kesha and belted out for the next three minutes. Making sure to scream out the verse, ‘but you cry about this, and whine about that. When you grow a pair you can call me back,’ making William wonder if he should’ve used more tact. Once they got it out of their system, Bright exhaled deeply and turned their attention back to William with their hands on their hips. 

“If thought crimes were a thing, they would need a new set of the Geneva Convention. So Sam’s a major Soy Wojack.  Good for him. Why is he and every one else are packing their shit up now and not ten thousand years ago?” 

“That’s my fault. My decisions regarding the Summit were inexcusable, and I fear they will be unforgivable to those I love.” William replies as morosely as a tortured poet in the 1500s. Very apt. 

Storytime, part 2! So, while the Summit didn’t go to hell in a handbasket, a lot of the parties that were nearly caught in the crossfire were butthurt, apparently. Trusts were betrayed, and William no longer rests on that pedestal in the eyes of Sam, Vincent, Tank and the furries. Bright doesn’t understand what the big deal is; William is literally an artefact. You can’t live that long with a shiny moral compass. Even now, as William easily takes in Bright’s shenanigans in stride, they could never ignore his capacity for cruelty and ruthlessness. No matter how soft he speaks or how kind he is to Bright. However, stressing out over the assumption that William always has an ulterior motive whenever he opens his mouth would be the equivalent of same-day shipping to God for Bright. Again. Besides, assumptions are nails that could seal a coffin, and Bright would rather use them to build a shelf for Bad Dragons and Lovehoney instead. 

So they snap their fingers, switching to Business Mode. “You know what your problem is? Your problem is that you don’t have a Shae to your Sansa. The Garrus to your Shepard. The Soundwave to your Megatron. Get it?” 

William just looks like a lost child in Whole Foods. Bright tries another angle. 

“Confidants, dude. You don’t have any of those. You’re a King, right? I thought every King has a council of advisers? Ain’t that supposed to be Vincent and Alexis’ job?” 

“No. I can’t possibly bear to burden my children with the unsavoury aspects of our world.” William counters with a grimace. Perhaps William and Bright share a lot more in common than they thought. Not the martyrdom vibes coming off William like radiation but the fact that both of them are essentially the universe's way of trying to figure out how much PTSD one man can possibly get. If Bright is an economist, they would vehemently write themselves and William down as bad use of human capital. Oh! Wait, William is still talking. “It was not out of malice that I placed my family in the dark regarding the Summit. It was out of love. I don’t understand why they couldn’t understand that. Porter even served as their shield.” 

“It could’ve gone better. It really did.” Bright insists, but judging from William’s stubborn expression, this is an issue that is not going to be resolved overnight. 

They thought long and hard about this. Running away is so damn easy it might as well be a cheat code, and isn’t that what Bright and the others are doing? Vincent and the others are probably doing so under the guise of ‘needing some space’ from William, but Bright was planning to run away from their feelings and issues with Frederick and Sam, with no intention of ever talking to them again. 

HOWEVER!

Being abandoned fucking sucks. Bright of all people knows how that tastes! The thought that William would be left all alone with a daughter that comes and goes worse than that street cat Priscilla leaves a sour taste in their mouth. William isn’t an evil dude. He’s just dumb.

Slowly, their duffel bag loses its appeal. Bright is going to take a leap of faith here, and only time will tell if this will be the stupidest decision they have ever made, triumph over their jaunt in Wonder World with Frederick. And so they sit beside William and say, “Look. I actually don’t wanna be alone, and I bet you don’t want that too.” “No, Little One. I had enough of it back in the day.” William quietly admits. A Vampire King shouldn’t be able to look like a poor puppy being left out in the rain! Seriously! 

“Right. Here’s the plan, Batman. You wanna spare Vincent and the rest about the nitty gritty aspects of what it means to be a deadbeat? Fine. We do it baby steps, then. You tell me before you pull off any shits, and I’ll talk your ear off how stupid it is until we figure something better. Sounds good?” 

“No. Absolutely not. You’re family as well, Bright Eyes. I won’t have you suffer the burden of my crown.” 

“I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am one of the mods in 4chan. I can handle shits, alright? It’s in my DNA! Look William, you need someone in your corner that you can trust. If you can’t start with your Progenies, start with me. Prove to them that you value their opinions. We’ve got all the time in the world for it, right?” 

Finally, after trying to get through William the entire night, he starts to look hopeful and, most importantly, determined. He clutches Bright’s hand tenderly. 

“In that case, I have a proposal of my own. If you promise to be my guide, I promise to be your teacher. Allow me to be what Sam was meant to be for you. Perhaps by helping one another, happiness can make its way to us.” As he says this, William feels a lot more better than ever before. It feels like things are starting to look up for him. A rebirth could be just what he and Bright sorely needed. 

What a blessing. What a boon to have a great-great-grandchild to be the modern incarnation of Athena. 

“Yeah, yeah. So! Never gonna give you up?” 

“Never gonna let you down.” 

[pompyoly]

Redacted Headcannons pt 2

As Gavin and FL get older, Gavin alternates his appearance to make it seem like he is aging too(he knows FL is gonna die someday he just won’t accept it)

Sam thinks about what could happen after he and Darlin left the house of Solaire

Gavin, Asher, and Guy sometimes wear croptops and paint their nails

Huxley doesn’t work out he’s just naturally buff, but he does drink protein shakes or smoothies and go on morning runs

All of the D.A.M.N. crew is used to Gavin making out with FL anytime anywhere

Darlin sometimes gets scars that they don’t even know about until Sam points out that he can smell the blood on them

Milo had a mullet but decided to cut it after he accidentally cut too much off(he wore a beanie until it grew back close enough to make it into a mullet

Darlin is academically smart, but people’s opinions about them cause them to lash out and make bad decisions

Gavin has an incubus mark on his lower abdomen

Darlin would often avoid hangouts with the wolf pack due to feeling unwanted

Cutie felt conflicted and confused when Geordi got mad at them for reading his mind, causing them to stop using their powers when Geordi left

Porter stares at Treasure when they sleep not in a creepy way but more of an admiring type of way

Milo snaps at sweetheart but always feels bad and apologizes after especially when he’s not mad at them(he can tell when he goes too far when their aura changes a different color)

Lovely and Vincent play hide and seek in the woods(it drives Vincent’s primal instincts, making it more fun)

Darlin isn’t good with kids they don’t hate them they just aren’t used to being around them(the kids in the pack think they’re cool and berates them with questions)

Freelancer always includes coworker whenever the D.A.M.N. crew hang out no matter what they’re doing

Sam gives advice that he learned growing up in the South (he often gets looked at like he’s crazy but the advice does work)

Darlin's parents were in the pack but got banished due to abuse towards Darlin, who later got adopted by Gabe and Mrs. Shaw

Guy laughs about things at the worst times, and Honey hits him to try and get him to stop even though they think it’s funny too

Baabe helps Asher dye his hair, even helping him cut it if it gets long enough

Darlin and Asher are naturally fast even without their werewolf abilities

Milo and Darlin don’t wanna get married(they don’t care about traditional marriages, but they do have promise rings)

Darlin tilts their heads, and death stares at Alexis whenever she’s around(they have thought about just punching her and dealing with the consequences later but never acted on it due to Sam and David telling them to "behave"

FL celebrates Xavier’s birthday with Huxley

Sweetheart's dad worked in the department and died on the job, sweetheart carries a picture of him in their car

Asher only eats puffy chips and refuses to eat anything else

Sweetheart has a model walk with top tier fashion taste(they hate the color orange on clothes)

Micheal once asked Angel if they could try and get back together, and David stopped him before he could even finish his sentence(Micheal fumbled HARD)

Milo’s father hates interspecies only accepting sweetheart for the sake of Milo but once got into an argument with Darlin over Sam(Marie apologized on his behalf, and Darlin and her have a good relationship)

Damien got confused when FL accidentally mentioned Caelum, and FL just told him that he was a friend of theirs and Gavin’s(Caelums their adopted son)

Darlin has a fear of abandonment they had a panic attack the first time Sam and them got into a serious argument about Darlins recklessness

[aurorialwolf]

Ok who likes the idea of dad!Porter ??

That may have been rhetorical because I’m gonna blab about his daughter anyways 👍 this is the next instalment of me blabbing about my redacted next gen ocs!

- Her full name is Portia Solaire, William allowed her to have the last name of the House as she is Porter’s kid and therefore affiliated like he is

- She has a British accent, like her dad! And similar humour / personality to him

- We don’t know whether or not Porter’s maker was an old blood (Porter’s maker is mentioned in the official timeline but I don’t think it mentions how old he was?), so (for my headcanon about vampire children) I’m not sure if she’s turned by her own blood or if she asks to be turned / has to be turned to be saved when she’s 16 or so, but either way she becomes a vampire at around the same time as the other kids

- Porter taught her to fight from a very young age, initially being a fun bonding experience when she was young with a wooden sword, but now she can give him a run for his money, and manages to beat him around the age of 18-19

- Also, depending on the version of her that I’m talking about they’re nonbinary, they/she or they/them, but the one I currently will be including is she/they probably, so if you notice any inconsistencies it’s just because I imagine them / her in a couple different ways gender-wise

- She, like Adrian (Alexis’s son), receives a sword when she turns 16/17 and is out of bloodlust (as William gives each of his ‘grandkids’ a sword as a partially ceremonial thing and also because he wants them to be able to protect themselves), and he makes her a guard of his daughter (heir to the throne) Emilia.

- Together, her and Adrian can protect Emilia efficiently, as Adrian does defense and Portia does offense

- Portia is the more outspoken between her and Adrian, openly criticizing Emilia when she power trips a bit, leading to Emilia reprimanding her (not that it’s very effective)

- Portia also spars with Samuel, though is less unhinged about it than Adrian, and she’s the one that teaches Samuel to beat Porter when Emilia makes her plan to ascend to the throne with force

- Eventually, she, like her father, will become the next sword of the house, the weapon they point at their enemies to win. When Emilia ascends to the throne, through whatever means, she will replace Porter and take up that role in his stead

- Porter doesn’t like the idea of this, yet knows the inevitability of it, and so teaches her as best he can to do what he does.

This is all I have for now, I think! Hdksgdjs I’m kinda tired at work so I might have forgotten some stuff or not written this as well but I tried! Long story short, she’s a hell of a lot like Porter, which is.. both good and bad, I guess

Taglist: @vegafan69 @darlin-collins @kxemii @professionallyyappin @sereh624

[starlitangels]

Last Night of Tour

Literally everyone and their mom has done a rockstar/band AU for Redacted characters... but it's my turn now 4.0k words

—

Lovely

The house lights dimmed. From our spots right up against the stage, Tank passed me a pair of earplugs. I twisted them up and put them in my ears. Tank did the same.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted honorable persons, please welcome to our stage here tonight:

“The House of Solaire!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the excessive amount of loudspeakers and the crowd went absolutely wild.

With the earplugs in, everything was tolerably loud, but not earsplittingly so.

The band ran out onto the stage. Vincent at the front, as always. And the screaming and cheering rose to an absolute breaking point. I was more grateful than ever for my earplugs. I cheered and whooped along with everyone else.

Vincent took his place at the front center of the stage. Lead vocalist. Keyboard. Front man.

Tank shouted beside me as Sam followed, going to the back center and carefully sitting on his stool behind his drum set with the band logo on the large bass drum. He picked up his drumsticks and twirled one in the fingers of each hand.

Alexis jogged out next to only slightly-less uproarious applause. She went the farthest across the stage and scooped up her electric guitar, slinging its leather strap with an embroidered red rose over her head and under one arm. She hit a test power chord and everyone in the crowd went nuts.

Frederick slipped out after her, walking instead of running or jogging. The crowd was still going wild even though he wasn’t looking them in the eye. His partner stood on Tank’s other side, earplugs in and staring at him intently, but not screaming or anything. He carefully slid his bass guitar strap on and took up his position.

Vincent yanked his microphone off its stand. Solid rose-gold. “Gooooood evening Dahliaaaaa!” He beamed broadly while the screaming got even higher pitched. “We are The House of Solaire and we thank you for such a big—warm—welcooome!”

More screaming.

Tank nudged me with their elbow. “Your man knows how to put on a show!” Their shout was nearly drowned out but I could see most of it on their lips. We were used to this by now.

I smiled wide and nodded.

Vincent snapped his fingers to a rhythm while looking over his shoulder at Sam. Sam clacked his drumsticks together, matching it.

He hit his drums, getting started. Alexis struck her first chord.

The crowd lost it with recognition. You Mentioned a Blackout was the single that really put them on the map, as it were, and was still one of their most popular songs ever.

Vincent had written it not long before we officially got together, but he wrote it because of me. He’d written it while I was unconscious and asked sheepishly if he could play it for me when I woke up. The sheet music was covered in the frenzied work of inspiration desperately trying not to be lost—and a few water stains of tears. No matter how many times I told him it wasn’t his fault, he never listened.

He held eye contact with me the entire time he swapped between working the crowd and playing the keyboard. Smiling and giving me a dramatic wink.

"I told you once and I meant it— "If you touch what's mine again— "You won't have time to regret it—"

The crowd sang along to the chorus, bouncing to the beat Sam was hammering out. Tank, Frederick's partner, and myself included.

Vincent strode out from the main stage and onto the jetty that jutted into the crowd, high-fiving reaching fans as he passed them, bent low and still singing.

On his strut back to the main stage, he paused during Alexis' solo long enough to fall to his knees, reach down for me, pull me up enough to plant a kiss on my face—to a swell of screaming cheers—and get back to the main stage.

When the song came to a nearly-explosive close, the crowd cheered.

Vincent whipped his glossy blue-black curls off his forehead, beaming. "Man, it is good to be home!" he said into his mic. Everyone whooped. "How's everybody doin' tonight?" More raucous cheering. Vincent raked a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. His white V-neck T-shirt was almost obscenely thin and would get replaced by a tank top at intermission. It was loose around his torso but clung tight across his shoulders.

Damn it looked good on him.

"I'd introduce that last song, but I think you folks already know it," he remarked. "Y'know. That song gets a good reaction everywhere else, but nowhere near as excited as it gets here in Dahlia." He chuckled as several excited whoops went over the crowd. "We've got a pretty special show for you all tonight. It's the last night of our Surge album tour and—" He paused while the crowd screamed. "—and we've got some very special guests tonight. But before we get into that, how about Fangs After Dark?"

The crowd lost their minds.

Sam clacked his drumsticks together again, looking at Frederick, before hitting the bass drum with his pedal. Vincent pounded his long, slender fingers into the keys of his keyboard.

Several songs came and went. The three of us knew them all by heart. We heard them all the time. So did the crowd, apparently. A local band making it big on the rock-and-roll scene was certainly something to celebrate in a college town like Dahlia.

Toward the intermission, Vincent picked up a little hand-towel from his keyboard stand and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck. "Alright, alright, alright!" he said into his microphone. "Before we do our last song before the break, how 'bout a little intro for the band that needs—no—introduction?"

Screaming again.

Vincent chuckled. "House of Solaire. A little diddy, if you will."

Sam started gently tapping out a beat on his bass and snare drum, adding little cymbal flourishes. Alexis and Frederick kept rhythm on their instruments, Alexis improvising a melody.

"Over here on bass guitar, we have Frederick Collins! Give it up for Freddie!" Vincent announced.

Cheering went up across the stadium.

"And back in the back doin' his thing, we've got the best damn drummer in the world—Sam Collins!"

The audience went absolutely nuts. Sam actually smiled. Tank put their fingers in their mouth and let off several earsplitting whistles. Sam glanced at them and rolled his eyes affectionately, but we were close enough for me to catch his wink, so Tank definitely did too.

"And on my left we have my big sister. The most talented electric guitarist in Dahlia—no, in all of California itself—Alexis Solaire!"

The reaction wasn't quite as loud as Sam's reception, but Sam had always been one of the fanbase's favorite band members. Tank knew it too, and tended to be a little defensive of him.

Vincent let the screaming die down. "And last but not least, we have myself on lead vocals and the keys. My name is Vincent Solaire and I am proud to present The House of Solaire and our new album Surge to y'all tonight!" Even with all the loudspeakers, the end of his sentence was barely audible over the absolute bedlam of noise that erupted from the audience.

Vincent smiled. "Before we go to intermission, I give you a song I wrote for the love of my life." He glanced down at me and grinned. "Everybody give it up for Electric Soul!"

Another popular one that they'd released about a year ago.

The crowd went wild.

—

When the band came back on stage after the intermission, T-shirts and flannels had been exchanged for tank tops. They'd cleaned up and dried some of the sweat off a bit. The audience cheered.

Vincent didn't say anything to whip the crowd into a frenzy. Just looked back at Sam and smiled.

Sam clacked his rhythm signal and Alexis hit a power chord right in beat. A song Sam had written for Tank. Vincent still sang and led it but the lyrics had been a bit of a love letter. A very rock-and-roll love letter. Which I thought suited the two of them perfectly.

"Hold me tight and kiss me— "Before we damn near bleed out— "Darlin', don't you dare miss me— "I love you too much to see you pout—"

I watched Sam keep his gaze steadily on Tank the whole song. He always did when they performed this song and Tank was in the audience.

When the song ended, Vincent clapped along with everyone. "That, uh, that one was Before We Bleed," he said. He let the cheering swell and die down. He had a good instinct for it and always seemed smooth, not awkward while waiting for the crowd to calm. "So. Who here are fans of Milo and the Wolves?"

A fair portion of cheers rose over the crowd. Not as loud as the rest of the night had been, but still loud, even through the earplugs.

Vincent nodded, pacing back and forth across the main stage. "Oh good. I'd hoped so. Very good friends of ours. Yup. Very good friends." He smirked. The jumbotron behind us caught it, and so did the screens on either side of the stage. "We have one of their former members here tonight. And they're gonna do a song with us," he continued.

More cheers.

Tank was unbuttoning the flannel they'd stolen from Sam.

"You didn't tell me!" I shouted.

They gave me a cheeky wink.

"Everybody give it up for Tankerrrrr!" Vincent called into his mic.

Tank shoved the flannel into my hands and leapt up onto the stage with a single bound in just their tank top, skinny jeans, and combat boots. They gave Vincent a side-arm hug as they passed him, ran off stage, and came back a single second later carrying their guitar, extended above their head in victory while the crowd cheered.

They slung the guitar strap on, took up a mark right next to Vincent, and flicked a guitar pick into their fingers from seemingly nowhere—but I knew it came from a special little pocket in the thick leather cuff bracelet they wore on their left wrist. They twiddled a knob on their guitar. One I knew meant they were turning up the gain for the real hard rock sound, compared to the more alternative style of The House of Solaire.

Not even waiting for Sam to count them off or Vincent to introduce what song they were doing, Tank slammed into an intro.

Frederick's partner and I screamed in support for our friend while the crowd joined in with us.

The song Tank played was a Milo and the Wolves song that Tank had written years ago called Tougher Than You, and their original band had been more than happy to give The House of Solaire permission to play a cover for a concert.

Vincent's voice was fundamentally much different from Milo's—the lead vocalist, obviously—but Vincent delivered a sincere cover that showed he'd put work into nailing the spirit of the song.

"If you hit me down, I'll hit you too— "Try to put me down— "But I don't lose— "Baby, don't you know— "I'm tougher than you!"

Tank sang the harmony with Vincent into the black mic on a stand that had been placed there over intermission, lifting their strumming hand off their guitar for just a moment to grab at the mic and hold it close to their mouth, letting their rich, sultry voice fill the loudspeakers.

I craned my neck to see Sam past his drum set.

Gazing, as I expected, with absolute, utter desire at Tank. Probably only keeping the rhythm on muscle memory alone. The tattoos covering both his arms shone with sweat.

I snickered, the sound completely drowned out by the stadium. Sam was entirely taken with Tank and he deserved it. I always thought they were cute together.

Tank struck back against their strings hard, backing a step away from the mic so when they bent in half in a headbang as they resumed their solo, they wouldn't smack their head on it. The crowd was jumping along hard, too.

When they ended, they gave Vincent a side-arm hug, ran their guitar off-stage, and gave Sam a long, dramatic kiss before rushing back toward me and leaping off the stage. Sam's ears were bright red as I handed Tank back the flannel and they put it back on. I threw my arms around them. "That was amazing!" I shouted.

They smiled. "Thanks," they said loudly. "Been a long time since I played in front of a crowd this big! Felt good! Felt... normal."

"Everybody give it up for Tanker!" Vincent called again.

The crowd cheered.

—

Darlin'

The stadium was finally cleared. The house lights had come on a long time ago and the stadium staff was cleaning up. Mopping up sticky, spilled soda and alcohol from the concrete floor, sweeping popcorn and discarded wrappers.

Vincent had taken his keyboard into his dressing room. I heard him singing Faithfully by Journey to his partner as I walked past. "O-oh you stand... byyy me—I'm forever yooouuurs—faithfully..."

Sap.

Just off-stage, my electric guitar was sitting up on a stand, its gig bag case haphazardly discarded not far away. I scooped up the gig bag and sat cross-legged in front of the guitar. "Hey beautiful," I said softly to it, digging into the gig bag's front pocket for an old cloth with some polisher stains on it. I pulled the guitar off the stand and into my lap, wiping at its amber-gold body and polished wooden head, including the tuning pegs. Giving it a little bit of a shine and clean-up.

"You take better care-a that thing than you do yourself, darlin'," a voice remarked. With a familiar Southern drawl.

I smiled and looked up.

Sam stood there, leaning slightly on a pair of enormous stacked amps, a set of drumsticks poking out of his back pocket, arms folded over his chest. In the light from the house and the regular lights of the stage, the tattoos all down both of his arms glistened just slightly where his tank top left them exposed. His hair was still a little disheveled from the performance.

It was a very hot look on him.

"People always tell us to take better care of our babies than we do ourselves, right?" I asked, finishing the last bit of wiping up and gently tucking my guitar into the gig bag, zipping it up.

A member of the tech crew that had been moving equipment backstage approached, holding her hands out for the guitar bag. I hesitated for just a moment before passing it over. I trusted The House of Solaire's usual crew. I was just protective of my guitar.

The tech shuffled off with it.

I spun to face Sam again. "So. Last night of tour. How's it feel to be done and free for the next couple months?"

Sam shrugged. "Ready to take some time to relax—but you know me. I'll get restless fast."

I approached him and hooked my fingers around the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him close to me. "I can help with that," I whispered, leaning close to his ear.

He chuckled low in his throat. "Well, I look forward to that," he said, voice low and soft, turning his head to kiss behind my ear. Goosebumps rose all the way down my spine. I shuddered a little bit. His hands wrapped around me and he held me close. I held onto him too.

Vincent still singing Journey to his partner was barely audible over the sounds of the stage and house crews packing and cleaning.

Sam rested his chin on my shoulder and looked around. "How'd you ever give this life up, darlin'?" he asked. "I don't think I can."

I smiled and sighed out my nose. "I needed a break, at least. After the break-up and Nomadic's PR people doing their damnedest to throw me under the bus and try to ruin my image... stepping off the stage was the easiest choice I'd made in a long time. David, Milo, and Ash all understood, and Ash had been wanting to try to take up lead guitar for a while anyway. So after they found Christian to take up bass guitar, Iii... left."

"Ever think you'll rejoin?"

I snorted. "I'd love to, on one hand. On the other... it'd mean even less time with you. Being back on tour at different times... or even the same time... I wouldn't be able to take a weekend and fly to wherever you're playing to see you."

Sam massaged his fingers into my hips. "Guess you have a point," he said.

I hummed, letting go of his hips to run my hands up his arms, tracing the lines of his tattoos as I passed them. "You know, I swore off dating rockstars after things with Quinn fell apart," I remarked.

Sam kissed my neck. "What changed?"

I sucked in a shuddering breath. "I met you," I replied.

He smiled against my skin. "That a good thing?"

I snickered. "A very good thing, smart mouth."

"Mm... then why don't you do somethin' about this smart mouth of mine, darlin'?"

I kissed his neck, feeling the way he relaxed under the contact. "Oh I plan to," I replied.

—

Lovely

"Y'know, it's kinda funny to me," I began, watching Vincent lean over the counter of the vanity station in the dressing room.

"What is?"

"You take off all those piercings and put on a nerdy T-shirt and normal jeans and no one recognizes you out in public," I said.

Vincent removed the earring from the helix of his left ear. The only one he ever left in between shows was the industrial on his right. He spun around to face me, leaning back against the counter. "That's part of cultivating a public persona. People expect the tight, plain T-shirt with the V-neck and the black skinny jeans and big boots. The dozen piercings. The rockstar eyeliner. No one recognizes... just some guy in a T-shirt with I Am Groot plastered across the chest. Put me in a grocery store and I'm just a taller-than-average nerd. No rockstar to be seen."

I scoffed. "No. You're not just some guy. You'd still be waaay hotter than everyone else in that grocery store."

Vincent laughed and held his arms out for me. I hugged him. "I think you're a little biased, lovely," he whispered.

"Oh definitely," I said.

His hands slipped under my shirt. And hesitated, as always, over the scar across my back.

He wrote You Mentioned a Blackout after a former lighting tech of the band's had been making jokes about The House of Solaire's lighting rig being enough to cause power outages in the smaller cities they played in. That lighting tech—Adam—had been making more of those jokes while Vincent was showing me around a venue before we were officially together. Just flirting. Adam had, apparently, been watching me intently while working. Tried to flirt with me after. When I turned him down, he had "accidentally" dropped a small light fixture he'd been setting up over the stage. It glanced off my shoulder on its way down and knocked me forward. It had already been attached to live wiring and the electrocution and strike knocked me out.

Needless to say Adam got fired after the incident. But the scar of the electricity and the light fixture remained—and Vincent was always hesitant to touch them. He'd been wracked with guilt when I woke up in the hospital. Made it his personal mission to take care of me while I recovered. Put a tour on hold before it even really started—their tours always started and ended in Dahlia—to make sure I got better.

And along the way, our feelings deepened and we fell properly in love. We'd been together ever since.

I knew Vincent still felt guilty about the "accident" but I tried not to let him dwell on it much. Including pushing him past his hesitance to touch the scar it left behind, almost three years later.

I kissed him. "Excited for the after party tomorrow?"

"I will be if I get enough sleep," he replied. "I love touring but, God, it leaves me exhausted."

"I know, baby. But you get a couple months off now. To rest and relax and recharge. Then you can get started on your new album."

He snorted. "Lovely, you know I wrote nine songs while on this last tour, right?"

"Wait, really?"

"Hours upon hours on a bus between cities? Yeah. Plenty of time."

"What'd you write?"

"Mostly yearning for you. A few love letters to the places we visited. None of them are at a stage that they actually fit our usual style but I just... I don't know. I can't not write new songs. Taking a couple months off just means I'll keep writing more songs. Alexis and Sam probably will too. Just not as many as me. But it'll be a passion project at that point. Then maybe later get to be an album."

"You're adorable," I said.

Vincent smiled. "I'll play them all for your while we're home."

"You'd better." I pressed another kiss to his mouth.

He deepened it immediately. "Oh God, I missed you baby," he whispered. "Doesn't matter how many weekend shows you flew out to see. I miss just being with you all the time."

"Me too."

—

Darlin'

I really had to hand it to Sam on his foresight. The stool of his drum set was sturdy and steady. Able to bear the weight of two people.

The crew usually saved the stage itself for last to clear, so we had plenty of time to sit on his drum stool—me straddling his lap—and make out. His hands, warm and callused, were just barely under the hem of my shirt on my bare skin. We were passionate, sure, but not exhibitionists. And the house staff was still cleaning the stadium seating area. We were mostly blocked from sight by the drum set, but better not to go too hard while there were still eyes on us.

Still, he was warm beneath me and his hands on me were heaven. I ran my hands down his back and slowly extracted his drumsticks from his back pocket. The muscles in his back relaxed more immediately.

"How's this for doing something about your smart mouth?" I whispered.

He chuckled. "Ohhh... I think it's just right, darlin'." He kissed me harder. "So. Next tour, gonna play with us at more concerts?"

"Mmm... maybe. Vincent and William haven't officially offered yet." I ran my hands over his hair. "But if you're just asking me to go on your tour with you... I can probably arrange that."

Sam dug his fingers into the skin on either side of my spine. "We've got a while before that happens. But I'd love it if you could join us. Hell, maybe Vincent and Fred can bring their partners too. Maybe it would make the band less sick-a each other by the time we're done."

I snickered. "Maybe," I agreed. I kissed him deeply again. "We'll see, cowboy." I pressed more kisses to his cheeks and forehead. "Now kiss me like you mean it and let's celebrate the end of this tour, yeah?"

"Hell yeah, darlin'." He rocked against me and met me in a kiss that I returned enthusiastically. I threaded my fingers into his hair and tugged on it, making him moan into my mouth while I stuck my tongue in his. His body was so much more relaxed when we were like this. Loose, wild, carefree.

I loved every second of it.

And, judging by how he was moving, he did too.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @shellssstuff @thegoldenlittlerose @darlin-collins

[soup-scope]

I def think its unfair to call ppl who dislike her or talk about her harmful actions misogynistic, I also think theres an aspect of misogyny to people who are downplaying her actions. shes cool! id love to see how her mind works and if she tries to justify what she did or knows it was a bad move

I did not say you’re misogynistic if you dislike Alexis. Where are you getting this from.

If you feel the need to hide behind anon whenever you say anything remotely negative to a creator, I think you should just. Not send an ask then. (I understand to an extent if they’re a huge creator or smth but I’m. Not. I don’t think ur at risk of harassment or smth. If anything if helps *ME* out cause then we could have this convo in the dms or smth. Instead of you putting words i haven’t said into *my* mouth. On *my* blog.)

Anyways the point of that paragraph is to say my dms are open if you ever want clarification on any of my viewpoints and that I think hiding behind anon on this blog is dumb cause only like two people pay attention to my opinions on here and even interact with my content when it isn’t art based.

Back to the point at hand.

I think I know what you’re referencing, and you’re taking it completely wrong and running off a cliff with a point I never made.

What I THINK you’re talking about. Is a comment I made saying smth along the lines of “I don’t hate Alexis as much as I could because she’s a woman.” And to explain that. That’s smth I always do with fictional women lmao.

And I also mention that the reason why I do that, is because in many fandom spaces (including redacted) many people tend to enter misogynistic zones when they hate female characters. You’re allowed to dislike female characters‼️‼️ but I’ve seen people get INCREDIBLY misogynistic with female characters they dislike. When their male counterparts have potentially done worse.

I’m very neutral about Alexis. I don’t care enough about vampires that aren’t Vincent Solaire or Alice Cullen.

You’re allowed to dislike Alexis and her actions. But if you do so while calling her a ‘bitch’ and so with even more vitriol than you’d show someone like Kody? Yeah imma look at u funny.

Every three months the redacted fandom discovers critical thinking and it’s sending me through the fucking roof.

If you have any more questions. I’ll either talk to u in my dms or on the comments of this post or smth. 😭😭

[autisticempathydaemon]

♪ gimme gimme i love your music taste 🖤🖤🖤

I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel./ I am all they things they might have said to you.

cw: Alexis/Christian, mention of Fred/Bright eyes- who I’ve never actually listened to

“So you’re really here for Alexis?” Christian startles at the forward, irreverent tone and looks up from his phone at Sam’s young progeny.

“Yeah, and?” he responds, Aussie drawl thick with attitude, and the vampire just shakes their head, not combatting his tone but not relenting either.

“You’re a Shaw. Can’t you do better?” They look up at him with bright eyes surprisingly lacking in malice. The expression is more honestly curious than anything, and it’s only that genuine question (and his reluctance to start a fight) that makes him put his phone away and respond as nicely as he’s capable.

“What makes you say that?” Christian asks, keeping an eye on the clock and the corridor leading to William’s office. “Do you and Alexis even talk?” They shake their head with a shrug.

“Nope; we see her at meetings and hear what everyone else says about her though. She’s rude and cutthroat and doesn’t play well with others to put it lightly.” The vampire says, making quotation marks with their fingers before shrugging again. “Fred thinks that’s Sam and Vincent’s way of saying she’s a bitch.”

“What do you think?” he asks, and their silver eyes seem to shine at being sincerely asked and seriously answered.

“I think she could be bitchy but so is Vincent on a bad day-“ Christian snorts at that, having himself heard more than one wild story of the Solaire prince. They smile at him, and he sees something almost like a family resemblance in the flash of fang. “-but mostly I think she’s fucking scary.”

“Oh my god, her taciturn, quiet schtick still works on you.” The snort grows into a full laugh, and he can’t even try to hold it back as he watches the Solaires finally get out of their meeting. Alexis walks apart from and ahead of the others, as she always does when Sam and his progeny are around, but Christian knows his girl well enough to clock the way she speeds up at the sight of him. “Hey, Sexy Lex-“

“I’m breakin’ up with you so violently and so publicly,” Alexis says with a hiss, making her way to his side in a blink and covering his mouth with her hand. “In front of your whole pack.”

“Mhmm, that’s what you said last week, petal.” Taking her hand in his, Christian brushes a kiss against Alexis’s fingertips and smirks when a flush rises in her cheeks. The younger vampire bites back a laugh, and Christian grins at them even as Alexis digs her knuckles into his ribs. “See? She’s not scary; she’s gotten soft in her old age.”

“Do you want to make it to old age, cher?”

Send me a ♪, and I’ll put my music on shuffle and write a Redacted ficlet based on the song I get 💌

[gingerbreadmonsters]

i think about vampire puns for the solaire clan every single day send tweet

[sweetnothingproductions]

William Solaire - King of the Solaire vampire clan. Maker of Alexis and Vincent. He is old blood. Unhurried. Calm and patient. He believes in the best of people, loves his progeny, values his clan.

Headcanon:

It broke his heart to invoke Alexis against Sam, but he knew it was the only way show Sam his protection and to demonstrate to Alexis how serious consent should be taken in his clan.

Redacted Universe Fan

Character created by Redacted ASMR:

Cameos in Vincent’s playlist

Mentioned in Sam’s playlist

Imagined in colour, here, by a gazillion posts.

[aurorialwolf]

Oki dokes folks, I made a post a bit ago about my next gen ocs, Samuel Jr. Collins-Barrera (Sam and Darlin's kid) and Adrian Getty (Alexis's son), talking about their dynamic I mentioned a bit of Adrian's backstory, and his personality, but didn't go too in-depth, so now I will with a post specifically about him! If you want to read that post after, there's a tag on this post that'll lead u to all my next-gen posts

Y'all know the drill, basic info first, then some more detailed specifics - Full name is Adrian Getty

- Full title is Adrian Getty, Duke of the House of Solaire (this is also what he would introduce himself as formally)

- His mother is Alexis Getty, his father is absent, as he was the result of a hookup, making him illegitimate, although William does not care, and still grants him his title

- He doesn't have many friends, since he is rather isolated, having been turned at a young age by his own blood (according to my hc, children of vampires can be turned when they unlock their core if they have vampiric blood from an Old Blood), so he mainly hangs around Emilia Solaire (William's daughter) and Portia Solaire (Porter's daughter), as they are in the same boat.

- He's also kind of a jerk, mainly because he doesn't know how else to act given his upbringing (cough cough Alexis)

- His favourite flavour for basically anything is lemon! He becomes partial to Samuel Jr. moreso when he gives him lemon snacks

- He can speak a bit of French as well, like Vivienne (Vincent's daughter, I made a post about her a bit ago), though he's much more fluent than her, and becomes fully fluent around 19, since I hc that the kids of the House can all speak some French since I assume William would teach them

- He has a sword that was given to him by William when he reached 16 and was out of bloodlust, at the same time as he was granted the title of Duke

- He is one of Emilia Solaire's personal guards, mainly as a formality, since she is rarely in actual danger, but it helps make the clan look proper.

- He's gay, but closeted, though he figures it out and comes out a bit later (around 18-19)

Okay now for angst stuff, mainly about his upbringing

- Since he was an accident, his mother is.. not very nice to him, and they argue regularly

- Alexis invokes him as a disciplinary measure, to keep him in check, and this affects his mental health very negatively

I feel I must clarify that I do like Alexis as a character since she has depth, but I don't think she'd be a good mother if she were to have a kid suddenly at this point in the storyline (we will see if she gets a redemption arc though)

- Part of the reason he's closeted is that he's worried Alexis will harm him further for it, although she wouldn't, but he doesn't know that and is too nervous to test the waters

- After a lot of fighting and being at each other's throats, he becomes friends with Samuel Jr, who helps him better himself, come to terms with being gay, and become nicer, leading to him getting more actual friends, specifically befriending Portia and Emilia properly, and making up with Vivienne (Vincent's daughter, who he has also been a jerk to)

- Eventually he sort of sees Sam (the dad not the son lol) as a father figure, because once Sam realizes he's a good kid, and not like his mother, he helps him, and allows him to stay with his family when he needs to, giving him a proper safe space That's about it! Lmk if you'd like to be added to my taglist for redacted posts (mainly this stuff and dreamwalker theories), and lmk if you have your own hc about Alexis as a mom, since I know she's interpreted differently by a lot of folks Taglist: @vegafan69 @darlin-collins @kxemii @professionallyyappin @sereh624

[starlitangels]

I’m a little new to the Redacted ASMR lore and I am so confused… So Will turned Vincent, and Will is the leader of the clan, right? What is Vincent’s relationship with Sam? Like how is the clan ranked?

Yeah, so William Solaire is the clan’s “king”. The leader, yes. He turned Vincent to save Vincent’s life after an accident. But Vincent was the second person Will turned. The first was a woman we only ever hear mentioned by name, but have never had a guest voice speak. Her name is Alexis. Vincent’s been a vampire for 22 years and Alexis has been one for about 30 years longer than him, so more than 50 years probably around now.

And Alexis is the one who turned Sam into a vampire.

To put it in wildly oversimplified human family terms, think of it like William is the “dad”, with Alexis being the older sister and Vincent the younger brother. Which sort of makes Sam kinda like Vincent’s nephew. But also not at all like that because vampire lineages don’t work like human families at all. That’s just an extremely oversimplified way of explaining it.

When it comes to clan ranking, Will is at the top as the king, obviously. And as the first person he turned (his “first blood” to use the term Redacted uses), Alexis is second-in-command and Vincent is third-in-command as Will’s second blood. After that it’s kind of an unknown. I’m pretty sure beyond the top 3 ranks there really aren’t any. Just members of the clan. Though I imagine any newer members will be considered low on the food chain until they’ve settled into the clan more permanently.

That said, Sam is still highly regarded amongst the clan as a vampire with experience in healing magic and also just being a very good soul in general but yeah Vincent pretty solidly outranks him.

Not particularly relevant to your questions but noteworthy: Vincent took William’s surname after he was turned. To honor Will and the second chance at life he’d given him. So Vincent originally had a currently unknown last name, but is now Vincent Solaire. Alexis did not take William’s last name and Sam did not take Alexis’. It’s just an option.

Hope this helps! I’m a bit of a lore gremlin so if you have any more questions I’ll do my best to answer them!

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - When Lovely meets Angel

Summary: When the boyfriends are away, their partners try their best to be functioning members of society. Spoiler alert: they failed. 

Tw: [Mentions of Adam], [Profanity] and [Very, very brief mention of drugs. Like, half a sentence]

I shared this oneshot in the Discord server and I thought to share it here too before uploading it on AO3 later this weekend. 

-

You smile as your eyes do their best to track Vincent’s every move. Your head spins as your boyfriend flits from one room to another, never pausing for even a second. His duffel bag is lying beside you on the couch, gradually full of clothes, toiletries and other travelling necessities as he chucks them in Mach speed. 

You pick up the clothes that didn’t make it into the bag. You fold them nicely before placing them in with the rest. 

“Alright, I’ve stocked up the pantry to last at least for a few weeks, b-but I’ll be back by Sunday so don’t worry.” The blur that was Vincent said as he ran from their shared bedroom to the kitchen. With a fond shake of your head, you observe the Vampire made one last round. 

Letting Vincent fuss is your way of helping him calm down. And sure enough, it only takes a few minutes until your boyfriend is satisfied with the apartment - from the wards that he erected to the well-stocked kitchen and rows of laundry detergents. With the way he prepared for his departure, you couldn’t help but want to remind Vincent that he’ll only be leaving for three days; not three months. 

“Do you have Alexis’ number, Lovely? Sam’s?” Vincent asks - again - in concern as he pad towards you and the duffel bag. “Hang on, I’ll forward them to you now -” 

You grab his hand before he could reach for his phone and force him to sit beside you on the couch. You peck him on the cheek to startle him. No matter how many times you’ve done this; Vincent always reacts the same. Startled with a tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. A simple kiss is enough to leave him speechless and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat at how precious he is. 

“Yes, you gave them to me this morning. I have their numbers on speed dial for any emergency of the Adam kind.” You easily assure him, only to backtrack quickly when you see how wide his eyes went. Oh yikes, bad move! Bad move! “N-Not that there will be any problem! Haha! I mean, you’re only going away with Will for three days, right? I can hold the fort, don’t worry!” 

Vincent bit his lower lip, still hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to go, Lovely. It hurts to be away from you…” His head tilts down and holds your hand tight, yet always mindful of his Supernatural strength. “Sometimes… sometimes I could still see you in Adam’s arms, so pale and sick… your blood on his mouth - ”

“Hey, hey, Vince? Look at me please.” You gently tilt his chin using your hand that wasn’t captured by your worrisome boyfriend. You made sure to properly look him in the eyes before smiling softly. “You got me in time and for that? I’m forever grateful, but that’s in the past, OK? I’m here now with you! We both have been making good progress at D.A.M.N so that has to count for something, yeah? We’re both stronger than we were before.” 

That earns a tiny smile from Vincent and you mentally cheer in victory. “You always know what to say, huh, Lovely? And yeah, we’re pretty badass now, huh? A Vampire and an Electro Energetic? We’ll conquer this city in less than a month.” He joked. 

You try to picture it: you and Vincent - the King and Queen of Dahlia. The first thing you would do is declare PJ Friday - where everyone must wear PJs every Friday and those that wear the silliest PJs get brownie points. Collect enough of them and they’ll get a free meal in the most expensive restaurant Dahlia has to offer. Vincent can handle the boring stuff like, governing and health care. 

...Now that’s a thought; Vincent as a politician. 

Ah wait - Will would probably be disappointed in them if they tried to do a hostile takeover of this city and you couldn’t bear to disappoint him. After all, no one can pull off the perfect sad dad look other than Vincent’s Sire. Not even your own dad! 

“ - Lovely? Uh, Earth to Lovely? You there?” 

Vincent’s warm voice broke you off from your mad train of thoughts. You flash a sheepish grin when he realised that you haven’t paid a single word he said. Vincent wants to appear annoyed but his lips are twitching, as if he’s holding back from laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face. 

“Sorry, babe. I spaced out because Will was disappointed in us.”  

“...What? Will? Lovely, what the - ”

“Anyway, don’t worry about me.” You quickly interject before you have to explain yourself. “You got me food, Alexis’ and Sam’s numbers are on my speed dial and my powers have been growing nicely over the last few classes. I got this; you got this.” To seal the deal you added, “And I promise to call you twice a day; in the morning and before I go to bed. Sounds good?” 

That finally assured Vincent. The tension melts away from his taunt shoulders and when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet. You would’ve loved to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you and turn this into something more, but Will would surely call him if Vincent is late. 

Vincent moans when you pull away; disappointed and slightly frustrated. “Easy there, Vince. I’ll make sure to give you a very warm welcome when you get back.” You purr, loving how his eyes lid at your promise. 

But alas, as much as you love to drag Vincent to the bedroom, work comes first. So you allow Vincent to fuss around a little more before he slings the duffel bag over one shoulder, kisses you goodbye and leaves. 

Now, you planned this. You have a whole itinerary in your head for the days that Vincent is on a business trip with the King of the Solaire Clan. Assignments that need to be done, Despacito to learn on the piano (neither of them knew why Alexis dropped off an upright piano in their apartment on a random ass Wednesday night and when asked, she just cackled before pulling off a Batman and vanished into the night. So Vincent gave up trying to pester the answer out of her. You still think it’s some sort of an elaborate prank), boba pizza to cook for dinner tomorrow and a list of video games to pre-order so really, you would be so busy for the upcoming days that you wouldn’t even have the time to miss Vincent. 

If you repeat that long enough, you hope that’ll become true. 

Glancing at the clock hanging on the living room wall, you sigh at the time.10.30 PM. A little early to get ready for bed but hey, it’s not like there’s anything else that you want to do now. 

With little fanfare, you make sure that the apartment is locked and secure, switch off the lights before heading to the bedroom for your nightly ablutions.

-

Ok, that part about the itinerary? Yeah, that’s completely out of the window the moment you wake up missing Vincent’s arms around you. 

The gentle and warm sun rays pierce through the sheer curtains, promising a bright day ahead of you, but all you could think about is the space in this bedroom. Was the bed always this big? Was the bedroom always this quiet? Those questions rattled in your brain and it really doesn’t help that you can smell Vincent’s faint cologne lingered on the pillows. Soothing vanilla that never fails to clear your mind as opposed to sandalwood and bergamot. Vincent once claimed that the scent is too fancy for someone like him. 

Right now though? His cologne sends a pang of longing in your heart in his absence, and it’s only the first day! 

“I can’t stay here.” You decided out loud when the tangle of sleepiness ebbed away. Kicking the thick duvet off your body, you stomp to the bathroom to shower, dress up and quickly leave the apartment with nothing but your phone and backpack. 

You didn’t want to return to an empty apartment, so what better than walking around the city to distract yourself? Grab some breakfast at a new cafe, maybe do some window shopping afterwards… yeah, that sounds way better than anything you’ve planned before. 

Joggers pass you by as you walk through the park and the city slowly comes back to life. People are out and about, going through their monotonous day. Some are catching the bus, others are like her, eager to find something to eat. 

You recall that your classmate mentioned that they and someone named Damien found a Taiwanese bakery/cafe that recently opened up near the city’s library; a quaint little shop, squeezed between a hardware shop and a health & beauty care chain store. You can still remember how their eyes lit up as they excitedly described the brioche and the strawberry tiramisu they ate with vivid details. 

So that’s where you’re headed off to now. 

Apparently, the bakery is closer than you thought when you cut corners and jump through the shortcuts. Being born and raised here in Dahlia like so many others, you knew this city like the back of your hand. Though the existence of Shifters, Vampires, Daemons and more were a slap in the face to you.

Oh, that reminds you, be sure to ask Vincent if the Vampires have anything similar to Fangtasia here in this city. 

The bell above the door chimes when you enter the bakery. The sign outside says ‘OPEN’ but since it’s still quite early in the morning, you and a couple sitting at a table near the corner are the only customers currently. Manning behind the cashier is a young woman and her co-worker setting up freshly baked goods behind the display glass. 

You made a beeline to the counter. 

“Good morning. Uh, can I please have one sea salt coffee - regular size - one red bean mooncake and, umm…” You paused to scan the menu laid before you. “And a marble taro.” 

There. That's sort of a healthy breakfast, right? 

The young woman hardly bats an eye at your order. She drawl out the total amount of your food and drink to which you hand her some cash before choosing a table beside the large window so you could see the city and her people go about their lives. The scent of freshly baked pastries, hot chocolates and brewed coffees wash over you pleasantly. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent would love this place as much as you do… 

The cashier came over with a tray of your order before your musing could spiral down further. You thank her, snap a picture of your food and coffee for Vincent before enjoying your breakfast. It’s a perfect morning, well, almost a perfect morning… 

Halfway through your coffee, your phone vibrates. Vincent had texted back: 

‘Looks delish, Lovely! Make sure to finish your meal, OK? My flight was a nightmare - I’ll spare you the details - but Will and I reached the airport safely. I’ll call you soon, Lovely. I love you, always.’ 

Vincent’s text helps to fill his absence, somewhat. You polish off the last bit of your coffee and exhale loudly; there’s no use moping around. Adventure awaits! After all, there’s never a dull day here in Dahlia. For all you know, something is right around the corner just for you! 

Tummy warm and full, you bask in the morning light for a few more minutes before exiting the bakery. 

...And promptly collide with a walking furnace. Because seriously, the moment your chest hits them, it feels as if their body heat lunges at you.

“Ow!” You fell and landed hard on your ass. Whoever had the misfortune to collide against you, they were a tad taller and seemed to be in a rush to be able to hit you with an impact. 

“Oh fuck! I’m so so sorry! Are you alright!? I ran too fast because I always missed out on their marble taros! Oh gosh, oh gosh; can you hear me? Shit, I really hope I didn’t hurt you too badly…” The stranger rambled worriedly. 

“I-I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You assured them and gladly grabbed the offered hand. They gently pull you up from the pavement. 

“You sure? I can take you to the hospital right now if you want!” They pressed on, eyes checking for any sign of injuries on your body. “Just after I buy my pastries though.” 

You didn’t expect the blatant honesty; the idea that some loaves of bread are this person's top priorities crack you up. You couldn’t help it, so you burst out a giggle. 

“I’m good, I’m good; don’t worry.” You hiccup and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your right eye. You can’t believe this. “Go get your bread and oh, for the record? I totally get why you rush here. Their marble taro is really something else. You better hurry up; I heard the cashier said they’ll be making the last batch for the day.”

You smirk when the walking furnace’s eyes widen in horror. They darted into the bakery without a single word. The bell chimes loudly when they rush to yank the door and scramble towards the counter.

Just for the fuck of it, you lean against the window and decide to wait. Snippets of frantic conversation can be heard inside and it wasn’t long before the bell tinkle once more. 

The stranger that bumped into you pout, clutching a huge paper bag of pastries close to their chest as if they feared you would snatch it. “You lied.” 

“Shocker, I know.” You tease and then you feel your blood froze despite the warm morning. You suddenly recalled where and from whom you heard those words before and quickly stomped the image out of your head. 

“Uh, dude? Are you sure you’re alright? You look super pale.” The stranger narrowed their eyes on you. Despite the blatant concern on their face and how genuinely friendly and cheerful their voice is, you get the feeling that they’re trying to pull you apart by the seams to see if you would lie or not. 

So you opt for the honest option. “I will be.” You assured them. “Just some… bad memories pop up.” 

“Huh, well that sucks.” They glance at the bag of pastries for a moment, silent and contemplating. They then thrust it practically in your face before you could do so much as flinch. “You want some? Food always helps me feel good when I’m sad.” 

The loaves of bread smelled really good but for the second time, you giggled. “No, no, I’m full. Thank you though; that’s very kind of you to offer.” 

“It’s only the right thing to do.” They reply with an easy shrug. You get the feeling that the stranger’s kindness is something remarkable. “The name is -” 

Across the street, a truck driver pressed the horn when the car in front of him refused to budge despite the traffic lights having switched from red to green for ten minutes now.

“ - but you can call me Angel; all my friends do. Now that we’ve bumped into one another, your destiny just altered. Our fates will forever be intertwined once you give me your name.” 

Oh, you like where this is going.

“I’m - ” The driver in front of the truck kicked open his door and proceeded to shout at the truck driver. A line of cars gradually formed behind the vehicle and horns began to blare as a brawl broke out in the middle of the road. “ - nice to meet you!” 

“A lovely name…” Here your new friend - Angel - trailed off, their eyes appraising your body. “For a lovely soul. Lovely. Huh. Can I call you that?” 

Gorgeous, brimming with moxie mix with a spoonful of friendly flirting? Oh, you like them more and more by the second. 

Also, you idly wondered if there’s some weird magic attached to your name or else this is going to be a pattern every time you introduce yourself. 

“Sure.” You answered, and the two of you shook hands. 

“Say… who do you think would win? Godzilla or King Kong?” 

“Psh, is that even a question? Godzilla, obviously. He’s the king of monsters for a reason! And grandpa got his Atomic Breath; what does Kong even have?” 

“You. I like you. I have a feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

When there’s no escaping from Angel’s octopus arm of love and friendship around your shoulders, you let yourself be swept away. 

-

“So you’re an Electro Energetic?” 

“Yup.” 

“Got any plans on what you’re going to be in the future?” 

“To shed my mortal body and transform into King Ghidorah.”

“...Can I be the left head?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. We need the right head, though.” 

“I’ll give my friend a call; they’re a Freelancer studying at D.A.M.N too. Maybe you’ve seen them around?”

-

“Wait - you said your boyfriend is a Vampire?”

“He’s more of a dork than a Vampire, but yeah.”

“Cool, cool. Hey, my boyfriend is a Werewolf. Do you know what this means?” 

“...Twilight marathon?” 

“Twilight marathon! We have to do it. Let’s go, Lovely; you’re going to crash at my place for the best movie night of your life!” 

“I’ll grab some food and drinks from my place. Will be there in twenty minutes.” 

-

“This is the third time I’ve watched these movies and I think they just got worse over the years.” You complained, chugging down your fourth can of Red Bull. You don’t drink, so you wondered if this is how it feels like to slowly go drunk. Or high. 

You’re in your sleep wear - a simple black shorts and one of Vincent’s t-shirts. Exhausted, stomach bloated with snacks; you feel like shit. Your body is seconds away from saying fuck it and crash down. 

And yet you’ve never felt so alive before. 

The time on your phone says it's 3.23 AM; you and Angel slough through the first two movies and now finally, the end credits for Eclipse roll down on the TV screen. Angel lives with their boyfriend - who was on a business trip, coincidentally - in a very homely apartment. When you first entered, you could tell just what sort of couple they are. 

The place looks as if a small tornado tried to turn the apartment upside down but was fended off just barely - little knick knacks such as rainbow beaded bracelets were carelessly thrown on the kitchen counter behind a microwave, a crop top with printed bongo cats floating within a glittered galaxy is drape over a dining chair, three heart-shaped balloons knock against one another from the living room’s ceiling and for some reason, the USB stereo is on the floor playing Black Pink’s Pretty Savage. 

The other half of the apartment - the more organised side - are filled with neatly shelved books of all genres, an untouched bowl of fruits are on the coffee table and most of the expensive-looking dishes and silverwares are displayed behind a glass cabinet. Those were probably gifts from family and friends. 

You spend an entire day here, engaging in stupid but fun conversations with Angel, painted each others’ nails and even shop online for the sluttiest outfit that you two could find just for the hell of it before binge-watching the entire Twilight series. 

Unlike you, however, Angel is buzzing around like a hyperactive bunny on crackhead energy. Halfway through New Moon, she busted out stacks of colourful sticky notes, some thumbtacks and a huge yarn ball. You watch with utter fascination as they begin to furiously write down every little thing about the Vampires and Werewolves representations from the movies to your and their boyfriend. 

It’s 3.25 AM now. The entire living room wall looks like an abstract form of an art piece, made of common stationeries. 

Hair in a messy bun, a stick of strawberry pocky dangling from their lips like a lit cigarette, a black sharpie in one hand and dressed in black cat onesie, Angel tapped on the piece of red sticky note that wrote ‘culture appropriation or nah?’

“So what have we learned so far?” 

“Vampires don't sparkle.” You immediately piped up and this time, cracked open a can of black coffee. A brand name from Japan, but the bitter tang immediately zolt your already fried nerves to maximum level. You love it. “Period.” 

“Noted! Now, does this make Stephenie Meyer racist!?” 

You actually had to pause and consider that. “Will need to get you back on that one.” 

Angel hurried to scribble ‘remind Lovely for feedback’ inside the same note. “Very well. We shall move on to the Werewolves.” They start to list down the characteristics of the Werewolves portrayed in the movies and then compare them to their boyfriend; but the thing is, they didn’t realise that they verbally list down the quirks of their Shifter lover instead. 

You find it cute that Angel rambled on and on about someone named Davey, so you didn’t interrupt them. Hell, you’d be the same with Vincent. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you got sidetracked from comparing your lovers to spilling the tea about your relationships. 

“After we first slept together, I said to Davey, “Thanks for the sex, bro” complete with a peace sign and a wink. He got so mad that he refused to let me off the bed until I promised to stay.” Angel laughs fondly. They tear open a bag of Cheetos Puffs and throw one into your open mouth. The two of you celebrate with a high-five. 

“Vince freaked out when I told him he was my first.” You chewed, swallowed and washed the after taste of the junk food with even more coffee. Who needs sleep when you could reach divinity with cans of Red Bulls, Kirin Fire coffees and junk foods. “He was extra sweet to me the next day as if he was trying to make up for how rough he was. You could totally see how precious he is from Pluto.” 

“That’s so cute!” Angel cooed. “You’ve landed the golden D, dude. Congrats.” 

“Sounds like you’re the same. To us!” 

You clink your can of coffee with Angel’s bottle of Mountain Dew. 

Eventually, the night made way to the rising sun and the final scene of Breaking Dawn came to a close. The living room is a total mess - blankets and pillows are strewn all over the floor, empty bags of chips, cans and bottles are underneath the coffee table and you swore that one rolled underneath the couch and the wall is still a sad, modern version of cubism with strings. 

“So…” You tilt your head to stare at a wide-eyed Angel, still buzzing with energy. “Want to play Mario Kart? Loser has to let the winner dress them for the day.” 

“You’re on! I hope you like crop tops” 

-

Vincent couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The airport is bustling with people rushing for their early morning flights despite dawn barely peeking from the horizon. Like most of the humans around them, Vincent and Will are waiting for their boarding gate to open. 

Speaking of Will, he had wandered off to inquire about their time of arrival to one of the help counters somewhere near the vending machines that they passed. 

These past three days felt like three years without Lovely at his side. Vincent was an idiot to think that a few simple phone calls were enough to chase the yearning of his undead heart for his lover. His sweet and strong, Lovely. 

How are they right now? Judging from the different time zones, Vincent reckoned that it’s nearly midnight where the city of Dahlia is right now. Is Lovely getting ready for bed? What did they have for dinner? How was their day? 

An amused chuckle startled Vincent from his musing. “Oh Vincent, did your phone somehow insult you? You’ve been glaring at it for at least five minutes since I’ve returned.” 

“G-Geez! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old man.” Vincent mumbled, he nearly dropped his phone from his Sire’s sudden and silent appearance. 

“Apologies. Perhaps you should give them a call?” Will suggested as he took a seat beside him. He offers a warm, knowing smile at Vincent’s confused expression. “You wore a lovelorn expression when you stared at your phone. Do us both a favour and call your Lovely, hmm?” 

“...I shouldn’t. They’re probably sleeping - ”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. For all you know, they might still be up, waiting for you to call them.” 

Vincent gave in. He desperately needed to hear Lovely's voice. Besides, their sleepy whines are so adorable and he misses them terribly. 

Will occupied himself with a John Grisham book while Vincent pressed familiar numbers and held his phone up to his ear. Lovely answered in less than a minute. 

“Hey, Lovely.” Vincent greets, feeling the uneasiness and longing untangled themselves from his chest. He can’t wait to return home and have them in his arms again. The next time he has to go on a business trip again, he’ll bring Lovely along. If Will has a problem with it, he could take Alexis. “Sorry for calling you again so late at night. I… I just need to hear your voice again. Anyway, are you on the bed - ”

“Oh my god, did you just throw your underwear at me!?” 

“Uh, Lovely?” 

Vincent immediately pull the phone away when his ear is assaulted by a cacophony of K-pop music blaring in the background, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh of glee and Lovely’s mutterings of “That slut is going to get it now”, “300% sugar in your boba tea? Dude, just do cocaine instead!” and “Oh, Dilf alert! He has a French accent too? A solid 8/10 from me, definitely.” 

Beside him, Will snorts. He happily ignores the glare Vincent threw at him and flips a page. 

But for a brief, crazy moment, Vincent was struck with fear at the thought of his lover harbouring a secret crush on his Sire. He still remembers how freely Lovely blush and giggle whenever Will was around.

“Lovely? Is everything alright?” Vincent tries again, straining to hear through the music and someone’s chattering. Who is with his Lovely past midnight? He starts to worry and feel… a little uncomfortable. 

“Vincent? What’s up, baby? You don’t usually call me so late.” Lovely reply, sounding a bit distracted. Suddenly, Vincent heard a crash, followed by a, “It’s not broken! It’s all good!” 

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you at a party?” Vincent didn’t demand, he inquired as firmly as possible. Flashes of his Lovely dancing at a club or hanging out with some faceless man and woman keep popping in his mind. It stirs his bloodlust. 

Will idly pat his hand to calm Vincent down, eyes still glued to his book. 

“I’m at home; had a friend over for the night. The apartment is just… too quiet without you.” 

Lovely’s easy and genuine admittance settled something feral inside of Vincent. He guessed that his lover and their friend must be having a sleepover. 

“I’m sorry that I had to leave, Lovely.” Vincent murmurs. “Will and I are at the airport right now. We should be boarding in thirty minutes.” Here, he paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I’ve missed you so much, Lovely. I’ve left my heart with you and… well, it’s just not the same without you.”

“See!? Prime example of a golden D there, Lovely!” Someone - Vincent assumed is his lover’s friend - shriek in the background. 

Their sudden shriek didn’t surprise him. What did, however, was another, stranger’s voice joining in their conversation. 

From a couple of seats, right in front of Vincent. Right here in the airport. 

“Don’t shriek into the phone, Angel! Are you trying to make me go deaf in one ear!?” 

The man - no, Shifter, grumbled. Vincent could smell the scent of lush forest and dirt around him; a Werewolf, then. But his nature wasn’t the reason why Vincent’s jaw is hanging open. 

Will, who had given up the pretence of reading his book, couldn’t hold himself back from grinning widely. He already connected the dots, unlike Vincent. “Oh my, isn’t that Alpha Shaw? He must be on a business trip as well! What a small world.” 

Luckily Vincent was clutching his phone tightly or not he would’ve dropped it in shock. Alpha Shaw? No way… David Shaw!? The Alpha of the Werewolf’s pack in Dahlia!? What the fuck - 

“Turn down the volume, Angel, before the neighbours call the police!” Lovely shouted back. 

In front of him, Vincent and Will watch the impressive scowl on David Shaw’s - the Werewolf King of Dahlia, himself - face. “Uh, excuse me? The fuck? It’s way past midnight, Angel. Where are you; who are you with?” 

“Looks like your lover made a new friend.” Will said in mock-whisper. Even though both of them knew full well that the Shifter wouldn’t be able to hear them from where they are in his human form. “I have a feeling that the Shaw pack and the Solaire clan will be closely in touch in the coming days.” 

Vincent shakes his head; truly, his Lovely is something else. Without hesitation, the Vampire Prince got up to introduce himself to the annoyed Werewolf. He didn’t take it personally when the Shifter shot him a glare for interrupting his phone call. If looks could kill, well, let’s just say that Vincent is thankful that being a Vampire means that he’s not about to be a Werewolf’s chew toy anytime soon. 

“Hi. I’m Vincent Solaire - yes, you heard that right - and before you ask, I’m pretty sure our lovers are currently hanging out at my place right now.” 

That got the Alpha to do a wonderful imitation of a statue. He wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre, Vincent thought.

David exhales loudly - as if he damn close to being done with everything that this world has to offer - before addressing his lover on the other side of the phone. “The things you got yourself into, you damn troublemaker.” No doubt that David probably isn’t too keen to know that his mate is friends with a Vampire’s lover, but Will has a knack for turning enemies to allies; he’ll let his Sire deal with the politics once they get back to Dahlia. 

“You love me!” Angel smugly replied. “Oh and guess what? We binge watched the entire Twilight movie series and we got some questions!” 

“And uh, just a heads up.” Lovely’s voice hesitantly chimes through Vincent’s phone. “We haven’t slept since you guys left. I mean, I slept the day you left Vince, but, uh...” 

Vincent winces and politely ignores David’s flow of cursing under his breath. 

They left home for only three days, surely their apartments are still standing and their lovers aren’t drunk, high or planning to commit anarchy!

...Right? 

[sweetnothingproductions]

William Solaire - King of the Solaire vampire clan. Maker of Alexis and Vincent. He is old blood. Unhurried. Calm and patient. He believes in the best of people, loves his progeny, values his clan.

Headcanon:

Referred to directly as “Liam” when his family is being tender or vulnerable. Yes. Even Alexis.

Still thinks of Alexis and Vincent as his new blood babies.

Redacted Universe Fan

Character created by Redacted ASMR:

Cameos in Vincent’s playlist 

Mentioned in Sam’s playlist

Imagined in colour, here, by a gazillion posts.

[sweetnothingproductions]

William Solaire - King of the Solaire vampire clan. Maker of Alexis and Vincent. He is old blood. Unhurried. Calm and patient. He believes in the best of people, loves his progeny, values his clan.

Headcanon:

Flashy suits or Henleys and linen, and very little in between

Believes in the ultimate Good of his progeny, no matter how many times they may let him down (lookin at you Alexis)

Smokes clove cigarettes

Discourages Vincent from smoking any cigarettes as it is “a nasty habit”

Redacted Universe Fan

Character created by Redacted ASMR:

Cameos in Vincent’s playlist

Mentioned in Sam’s playlist

Imagined in colour, here, by a gazillion posts.