M

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freelancer turned, their core lighting up in surprise but also affection, and kissed Gavin on the forehead.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’m a demon, remember? I don’t need sleep.”

“I- right.” They laughed. “I guess it was kinda just instinct.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, deviant.” He pulled on their hand, a silent plea for them to cuddle back in the covers. They were still naked from their fun the night before, and Gavin couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of it. The lack of clothes, but also the soft morning where sex isn’t an expectation despite their nakedness. At some point it had gotten so… normal.

Gavin loved it. It made him feel squishy inside. At first he was confused at the feeling, but nowadays he welcomes it with open arms.

Just another change that Freelancer brought into his life.

“I was going to go make breakfast. Want some pancakes?”

Gavin hummed, considering their offer. His mind was completely occupied with something else though. Freelancer had an incubus - handsome, tempting, and naked - in their bed, but the first thing they do is kiss him on the forehead and offer to make him pancakes.

He didn’t think he could fall in love with them any further, but Freelancer proved otherwise. As they always do.

“Mmm… I want you first.” Giving up on subtle hints, Gavin pulled them back into bed and climbed on top of them, kissing their neck. His love for them was threatening to overflow, and the only way he could keep from exploding was to give them that love.

Freelancer giggled, hands weakly pushing at his chest. To Gavin, that was the most beautiful sound.

“Baby, it’s already late.” To be fair it was nearing 11am.

“No.” Gavin refused. “There is no such thing as late when you have a day off.”

His kisses slowed as he opted to rest his forehead against theirs. He could feel their cores breathe in sync, their magic recognising his. Gavin felt so soft, so mushy, it almost made him laugh. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s a man in love.

“I love you too, Gavin.”

So they decide to burrow under his desk. In the quick break of his meeting, they scurried down low and slipped into the gap, earning an amused chuckle from their mate. He spread his legs to accommodate them and give them space, and Angel took that as a sign to grab onto one of them, shifting so they sat on one hip with their legs laid out on the other side as they leaned onto his leg.

“Be good for me, okay?” David smiled, ruffling their hair.

Angel nodded against his leg.

Throughout the rest of the meeting, David would play with their hair, combing his fingers through it and scratching all their favourite spots behind the ears and on their neck.

“I don’t even need a dog when I’ve got you.” He thought, lips curling up in a teasing smile.

When his meeting was done, Angel popped their head out from under the table and rested their chin on his lap, eyes looking up at him in a way that got his heart skipping a beat. They always do this, and most of the time it’s not even on purpose.

“Done?” They mumbled, keeping their chin on his thigh so he can feel every syllable.

“Not yet, baby. Still got some paperwork and then another meeting.”

Angel’s smile immediately switched to a pout as they broke eye contact and leaned their cheek on his lap instead.

David chuckled, hands resuming the massage of their scalp.

“I’ll make it up to you. We can get pizza tonight? Don’t have much in the fridge anyway.”

“…Can we get wings too?”

“Of course, Angel.”

“Okay.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | tbc

—

"Vincent... It's really you." Lovely gasped. He watched their eyes - once a beautiful blue, but now a cold, icy silver - widen in shock.

He moved to close the distance, inching another step closer and reaching out his hand. He was still half-convinced that this was a sick dream his mind had conjured up from being delirious over missing them. It must be.

But the presence of that small static he felt in his core - Lovely's magic - was undeniable. But it was so weak, so small. What used to be an energising thundercloud of potential magic was now nothing but a glow stick.

Gods, what happened?

He was about to ask them about what happened when he was interrupted.

"Finally decided to join us?" A voice spat. Lovely turned around, and Vincent couldn't help but notice the way they closed off when the Rebane King arrived. "So, this is the Solaire Prince I've heard so much about?"

The mention of Prince caught Lovely off guard. Their gaze shot up, meeting Vincent's in disbelief. For a moment, Lovely looked at him as if he were a stranger, and Vincent felt his stomach drop.

"You're the Solaire prince?" They hissed under their breath.

"I-"

"Yes, he is. My proud progeny." William approached from behind, stopping Vincent with a hand on his shoulder. His grip had a weight to it, as if he was reminding Vincent of the responsibility on his shoulders that came with his status. "Hello, Rebanes. How are you finding the refreshments?"

The King scoffed, "Decent, at best. And that's an improvement from last year. You've outdone yourself, William."

“My, what praise! I’m flattered.” William smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Before he could say any more, Rebane placed a hand on Lovely’s lower back and steered them away.

“Come, Little One, don’t concern yourself with them. We have much more important things to discuss.”

Lovely hesitated. They turned back, eyes meeting Vincent’s for a moment.

“I hope you found yourself.” They muttered. Vincent didn’t know if they wanted him to hear it, but he did.

Their words haunted him for the rest of the night.

They didn’t have a chance to talk for the rest of the night - Lovely was mostly at their King’s side, as was Vincent at William’s. His eyes kept drifting in their direction though, the sight of them in the flowing blue fabric that draped over them like water was breathtaking. Deep down, he wished that they wore it for him. On a date, perhaps. Like old times.

They both have forever now. But somehow it feels impossible to bridge the gap that grew between them.

The circumstances that promise them limitless time together are also what separates them.

---

“You’re on guard duty for tonight, by the way. We can’t let our guard down just because it’s the summit.”

Vincent overheard Rebane’s orders to Lovely, bless his heightened Vampric hearing.

He knows he shouldn’t, that the first time was already bad enough. But he can’t ignore the longing in his heart that yearns to see their face, to finally get some time to talk.

So he broke into their front door.

More specifically, he stepped into Rebane territory. Officially an intruder.

Déjà vu.

Vincent looked around, eyes peeled and searching for the familiar figure he knew like the back of his hand.

He didn’t even try to be subtle, stepping purposefully on the sticks on the ground, the snap echoing loudly throughout the forest. Like a doorbell, except there’s no need for it when he’s already inside their territory.

And sure enough, a blur comes rushing in, the speed of them enough to blow his hair back and ruin whatever styling he tried to do before. He’s pushed to the ground in the blink of an eye, the figure straddling him, holding a hand to his throat. He looks up to see their eyes narrowed at first, but then soften before turning into shock and confusion. He’s not focused on that though, his mind is reeling over finally seeing them, feeling them.

Those beautiful eyes. The eyes that finally hold his reflection. Oh how he missed them.

“It’s you.”

Of course it is. He knows it’s them. He came here to see them. Stupid mouth.

“Vincent!? Why are you- what are you doing here?”

“I… I wanted to see you.” He smiled sheepishly, like a child admitting they ate the ice cream in the fridge. He didn’t care that he was in enemy territory, his hands reached up and gently wrapped around their wrists. He didn’t try to pry them away from his throat - even that physical contact was more than he could ask for. Especially when he thought he’d never be able to feel them again.

But alas, Lovely let go, shifting off him to give him room to sit up. His hand reached back out and gripped their wrist, with more desperation this time. Something told him that he’ll lose them for good if he let go. And he’d rather die than let that happen.

After a beat of silence, he couldn’t help but let the question that occupied his mind the whole night spill from his lips.

“…what happened?”

Lovely’s eyes widened, and Vincent noticed the way they seemed to become glassy and soften. They relaxed, sitting cross-legged across from him, tense shoulders now slumped. They always held stress in their shoulders. He wished nothing more than to hold them and massage it out.

“…a lot. It’s a long story. I mean I’m sure it’s the same with you too.”

“I have time.”

Lovely laughed, bitterness seeping in.

“Not out to explore the world anymore?”

Vincent’s breath caught in his chest, the reminder of his mistake hitting him like a hammer.

“I’m sorry. I- I was wrong and I should have listened to you.”

“No. No… you weren’t wrong.” They sighed, hand running through their hair. “I’m just being petty. I don’t hold it against you. I mean - we were both young, there’s no way we know what’s best for us. Just look at where we ended up.”

He hates seeing the sadness and regret in their eyes. He wanted desperately to hug them, to protect them from the world with his arms. To make them smile again. Anything to make them smile again.

But was scared of crossing the line. Not because he didn’t want to be close to them, gods that couldn’t be further from the truth. But he wasn’t sure if they wanted him. Time separates people, he knows this. He also doesn’t want to force them into anything.

“I… I had just got third place at the E&E games. It was amazing- I never thought I’d be able to go this far with my magic. But I did. And then the world said fuck you and unleashed a bunch of shades into the arena. I died thinking I was so strong and powerful but then the world proved me wrong.” Lovely propped their legs up, hugging their knees and curling in on themself. Their eyes shone with unshed tears, gaze far away as if they were reliving the past again.

Hesitating slightly, Vincent put a hand to their back, hovering at first. When they didn’t pull away, he rubbed their back in soothing up and down motions - something he always did to help them relax. His heart leaped when they leaned into him, resting their head gently on his shoulder. Shuffling closer, his arm reached over and held their waist, the touch so familiar, it felt like he was alive again.

“I was the same too.” He started, hand continuing their motions on their back. He leaned his head on top of theirs and looked up at the stars while he spoke. “I went to Wonderworld for my birthday with some friends. It was frankly the first time since we broke up that I genuinely had fun. Remember how I used to talk about The Surge? That roller coaster?”

Lovely nodded against him.

“It broke halfway, and then I blacked out. When I came to, William found me and I got fangs.”

Lovely nuzzled into him a little.

“They suit you.”

Vincent chuckled. “I’d say the same for you too.”

If dying meant he got a second chance with them, then maybe it was all worth it. He swore he could feel his heart beating again - like he was alive. If he could, he’d stay this way forever. Just him and Lovely, holding each other, looking up at the stars. Like nothing had changed.

But dreams only last so long.

“I… I should probably get going. I can’t let him see me slacking off.”

Before he could think, Vincent shot his hand out and gripped their wrist again, this time pulling them towards him just that little bit.

That was enough to send them tripping over their feet and falling towards him. He caught them, hands holding their waist and holding them towards his chest.

Gods they fit perfectly against him.

He leaned down, one hand letting go of their waist to tilt their chin up, gazing into those eyes he missed terribly.

His gaze flitted from their eyes to their lips, asking for permission.

And sure enough, Lovely nodded, just slightly. That was all it took.

He kissed them, lips melting with theirs. Everything felt right again. The little tremble of their lower lip when they melt into his kiss, the cute noises they make when he kisses them deep. This is how it was meant to be.

Just for a moment, the world fell away. He forgot about the fact that he was - that they were both vampires now. He forgot about the fact that they technically belonged to separate houses. He forgot the fact that they’ve been apart for decades.

“I missed you.” He whispered against their lips, parting for only a second before kissing them once more. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Me too. Oh Vincent, me too.” Their arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

Maybe Vincent could keep his eyes closed and dream a little more.

—-

Tags: the original prompter 🫶🏻 @pandoraroid

@mythallia @pinksparkl

It first happened when they sat together on a park bench, and a passing painter saw how the full moon gently shone on them like a spotlight. A few months later, they found a painting of them in a local art gallery, titled "Moonlit Lovers".

"It's us!" Lovely whispered in Vincent's ear, arm in his.

Vincent kissed them on the cheek, commenting on how beautiful they looked.

It happened again when they appeared in the background of a photo by a renowned photographer. The landscape was the focus, but in the distance, there were two figures holding hands. They were framed perfectly by the walls of the sea cave, as if nature itself wanted to frame their love. The photographer said it was pure luck that they happened to be in the shot. It won the photo of the year for a famous magazine.

They became a folk tale at the annual Vienna balls. Vincent loved watching Lovely all dressed up, waltzing in his arms. Their chemistry, love, and poise made them famous amongst the crowd, and year after year, more people started talking about them. It was as if they never aged, even after a decade of attending the balls, forever beautiful, eyes shining with love for each other. They had become a tourist attraction in their own way by the third year, and many flocked to see them dancing together amongst the other participants. "The eternal lovers", they were called. They didn't want to arouse too much suspicion, so they left after two decades.

"Did you hear? The Eternal Lovers were spotted at the Paris Masked Balls!"

Vincent winked at Lovely as they walked hand in hand past a gossiping couple in the streets of France.

______________________________________________________________

Widower!Angel who wakes each morning with the crushing realisation that David is still gone, and in that moment, it feels like they die too, every single day.

Widower!Angel who avoids the pack like they have the plague. Not because they don’t love them, but because every shared laugh feels like a knife, another reminder he should be there.

Widower!Angel who keeps replaying the day they met, the way David looked at them for the first time, because it hurts less than remembering the day he left forever.

Widower!Angel who sits in David’s chair during dinners, clutching the arms as though the wood still holds some warmth from his hands.

Widower!Angel who finds themselves walking home slower, hoping foolishly that if they delay long enough, maybe he’ll be waiting when they open the door.

Widower!Angel who refuses to celebrate birthdays or holidays, because without David’s presence, joy feels like betrayal.

Widower!Angel who still sets two places at the table, not out of ritual but because they can’t bring themselves to admit he’s never coming home.

Widower!Angel who keeps David’s number saved in their phone and calls it late at night, just to hear the hollow 'this number is no longer in service', because silence feels worse.

Widower!Angel who can’t throw away David’s clothes, but also can’t bear to touch them, so they sit untouched, a shrine in the closet, smelling faintly of him even as the scent fades.

Widower!Angel who avoids mirrors because they can’t stand seeing their own face without David’s hand on it, without his reflection beside theirs.

Widower!Angel who once tried to attend a pack meeting, but the sound of everyone's laughter broke them, they left early, choking on the knowledge that joy moves on while they cannot.

Widower!Angel who presses their face into David’s pillow until the fabric is soaked, whispering apologies for surviving when he didn’t.

Widower!Angel who can’t listen to music anymore because every song reminds them of a memory, a car ride, a dance, a look, everything leads back to him.

Widower!Angel who Asher catches, one night, folding David’s shirt neatly back into the drawer after wearing it to bed. Their hands are trembling. Asher realises with a sick ache, Angel isn’t just grieving. They’re dissolving.

Widower!Angel who keeps imagining that if love was strong enough to build their world, maybe it should’ve been strong enough to keep him alive, and the guilt of that thought destroys them.

Widower!Angel who isn’t afraid of dying anymore, because every day without David feels like a slow, unbearable death anyway.

Widower!Angel who keeps their curtains drawn for weeks, the apartment dim and stale. Milo drops off groceries, cooked meals, little notes with bad jokes, but when he finds them untouched and cold days later, the pit in his stomach deepens.

Widower!Angel who won’t answer their phone, except sometimes in the dead of night. Asher listens to them breathe on the other end, fragile and breaking, whispering “I can’t do this without him.”

And he stays awake until dawn, helpless, repeating, 

"You’re not alone. You’re not alone".

Widower!Angel who can’t step into their shared bed anymore. They sleep curled on the floor beside it, clutching the edge of the sheets like it’s a lifeline, because lying on the mattress without David feels like sacrilege.

Widower!Angel who whispers good morning and goodnight to an empty space, their lips brushing against air, because the ritual hurts less than silence.

Widower!Angel who finds themselves at David’s grave every day without remembering how they got there. Shoes damp with grass, knees aching from kneeling too long, hands pressed flat against the stone as if touch could bridge the distance.

Widower!Angel who keeps hearing his voice in crowds, that deep, steady sound, turns sharply, heart hammering, only to find strangers who will never be him.

Widower!Angel who wakes up some mornings reaching instinctively for David’s warmth, only to choke on the cold reality that he isn’t there. It feels like dying, again and again, in miniature.

Widower!Angel who can’t bring themself to wash the mug David last used. It sits on the kitchen counter, ringed with dust, a relic of a life that should never have ended.

Honey constantly reminded themselves of this fact. It helped them when they were going through a tough time - stuck between long hours and an annoying roommate that made them feel as if they could never truly relax, even if they were home.

But it ended. As everything does.

Unfortunately, this also applied to their relationships.

It was easy when Guy was just a roommate - never mind the fact that they were falling in love with him. But without an official label, there was less expectation, less fear, and less they could ruin.

But then they started dating. Granted, they were happy and loved him sincerely.

But Honey had dated before. And each time they were told that it felt like they didn't love them as much as they did. Honey tried their best and expressed their emotions, but it was never enough. They ended up hurting the one they loved. They could see the love from their partner slip away as each day went on - messages became cold, long nights and warm hugs turned into quick pecks and brief hand holding. They never knew what to do.

No relationship lasted more than six months.

It's been almost eight months since Honey and Guy started dating. With each passing day, it felt like there was a countdown to the moment he would get sick of them and eventually break up.

The longer they dated, the more Honey mentally prepared themselves for the worst.

They shouldn't have accepted his confession.

Everything ends.

They'd end up hurting him anyway.

It's only a matter of time.

They dreaded the day when he'd become distant. When he'd leave them behind because they weren't enough for him.

They were afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid to see the love slip out again. Afraid to see the look of disappointment wash over his face when he realises that they weren't what he was expecting - what he wanted.

~~~

Honey isn't one to express their emotions outright. They keep it locked down deep, often only manifesting as a storm brewing deep within their eyes.

Guy immediately noticed. He's more emotionally aware than people think he is, and he's proud of it. He knew something was happening.

He also knew that Honey was someone who needed time. It was difficult for them to talk about their feelings, especially those that haven't completely surfaced. But as time went on, he also grew more worried.

He won't deny that doubts about their feelings toward their relationship did cross his mind at first. But he saw the way that Honey still lit up when he came into the room, ears perking up and eyes regaining that little spark when he caught their attention with his rambles. He saw the way that they'd listen to every word he said, even if they pretended not to. And most importantly, they reciprocated his every touch. Sometimes something would slip behind their usual stoic mask, and they'd hold onto him, hands fisting his shirt. As if they were scared that he'd leave.

It felt like they clung to his affection desperately. He could see the relief in their eyes when he kissed them.

That was enough to clue him in on what lay beneath the surface of the storm in their eyes.

~~~

Part 2 coming soon (hopefully! when i can figure out how best to end this)

Widower!David who keeps their jacket hanging by the door, keys still in the dish, because it feels safer to pretend they’ll be back soon.

Widower!David who speaks softly into the quiet, asking Angel about their day, about the weather, about nothing at all, because silence is unbearable.

Widower!David who laughs sometimes, low and broken, at a joke only Angel would understand, and then catches himself choking on the sound.

Widower!David who wears Angel’s ring on a chain around his neck, pressing it to his lips whenever the weight of memory feels too heavy to bear.

Widower!David who keeps every photograph in its frame, even the ones where Angel teased him for looking too serious, now, those are the only smiles he has left.

Widower!David who hates the quiet of the house, yet dreads leaving it, because every wall carries Angel’s laughter in its cracks.

Widower!David who dreams of them so vividly he wakes up reaching for Angel’s side of the bed, cold, empty, unrelenting.

Widower!David who lives every day with the paradox of grief, desperate to move forward, but terrified of leaving Angel further behind.

Widower!David who sometimes swears he feels them in the wind, hears them in the hush between heartbeats, and wonders if love this strong ever really dies.

Widower!David who can’t bring himself to wash the pillowcase on their side of the bed, because it still smells faintly like Angel if he presses his face into it hard enough.

Widower!David who flips through photo albums and lingers too long on blurry, imperfect shots, because they feel the most alive, the most real.

Widower!David who goes to their favourite restaurant alone, orders both their meals, and leaves half untouched, because some rituals feel like prayer.

Widower!David who finds himself whispering, “Wait until I tell Angel” before remembering there’s no one left to tell.

Widower!David who keeps their letters tucked away in a drawer, folded and worn from rereading, every 'I love you' both a balm and a blade.

Widower!David who knows time is supposed to dull grief, but for him, it only sharpens, because every day is just one more day Angel isn’t here.

Widower!David who can’t stand the thought of moving on, because Angel was not a chapter but the whole book, and he’s just living in the margins now.

Widower!David who still loves Angel with the same devotion, the same ferocity, the same unrelenting need.

He can taste the bitter tang of guilt, the fear of being a disappointment from being unable to give him something he showed signs of wanting.

Their eyes look down, unable to meet his gaze, and their hand fiddles at the hem of their clothes.

Freelancer has a deeply ingrained habit of helping others, always putting other’s feelings above their own, even to their own detriment. He’s seen the consequences of it before. He knows they trust him - he senses it flowing throughout their core like a steady river. But sometimes habits are hard to break.

“What if he’s disappointed? What I let him down? Am I worth less when I don’t give him my body? Do I deserve his love if I can’t fulfil all his needs?” Gavin can sense their thoughts spiral, the guilt weighing heavier on their mind.

To Gavin though, it means more than they know that they are honest to their feelings and decline.

He interrupts their thoughts by pulling them closer in a hug. Chest to chest, their heartbeats sync, giving them something to focus on to distract them from the spiral consuming their mind.

“When I say I want you, I mean you. Not a part of you. Not a function of you. Just… you. With me. Because being with you makes me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

It’s night. He needs to go to a meeting with William and the rest of the clan. After kissing Lovely goodnight he makes his way to the garage and sets off.

And every time, just before he leaves the driveway, he presses the brakes three times.

The brake lights flash.

Each time the connection between them gets stronger.

Each time the loss hits harder.

He still has some sleepless nights where he keeps returning to the moment he almost lost them.

He spends each night with his head on their chest, listening to their heartbeat, fearing that it’ll fall silent one day.

How many times must he lose them and find them again

How many times will he see the hope fade from their eyes when they wake up to find that something’s gone

If he could, he’d swap places with them so they didn’t have to repeat the cycle. But he can’t.

Twice they’ve slipped away from his fingers now.

But everything’s perfect. They’ve established their own path away from the house. They have more freedom to be together than ever before. He can feel their love for each other deepen each day.

He feels happy.

And that scares him.

So he finds himself unable to sleep, eyes open as he holds their sleeping form in his arms.

He finds himself waiting.

Waiting for something to happen.

Waiting for them to slip away from him again.