laxus dreyar stan account

Of course I needed to do the @fairytail-redraw of this month with Laxus !!!

My love <3

laxus dreyar was affectionate.

it wasn't in any loud or performative way but in all the quiet ways that mattered - influenced by a lifetime of caring deeply and acting like he doesn't.

he never admitted it out loud, and he sure as shit never admitted it to himself either. but it was clear to others in the moments he thought passed unnoticed that affection clung to him.

his touch on you was instinctual - the primal need to always have some form of contact in any way. a steady palm at the small of your back as he guided you through a crowd. long, thick fingers ghosting through your hair under the flimsiest of excuses to tuck back a single flyaway. everything was almost as if it wasn't on purpose.

warmth and affection weren't foreign entities, just ones that were disapproved of in his upbringing. it was something you knew of - the only physical touch between father and son ended in bruising. it was something that both of you were working on and learning how to make room for the softness he had been denied.

so that's why as his car pulled away from the curb in the darkness of the night, and the indicators blinked three times, your breath hitched. it was quickly replaced with a smile - bright and wide - and a deep blooming heat settled in your chest.

you pulled out your phone as his car disappeared down the road and typed out the only appropriate response: i love you too

and when he returned home, the notification changed from that dull grey of delivered to the bright blue of read 11:22pm.

fandom: dispatch (video game) pairing: robert/flambae chapter: [ one out of eight ] words: 3.3k rating: mature notes: i've no business writing this when i'm so busy and yet catch me doing it anyway! missing scenes of dispatch if flambae were romanceable because that enemies to friends to lovers angst had SO much potential.

The air to Robert’s left grows warm, then hot—a concentrated sunlight that finally forces him to glance up. 

Flambae’s hovering over the catwalk now, still nothing but a silhouette of fire. No trace of flesh. No trace of bones. Even his eyes are consumed by flames, leading Robert to wonder about the dependability of his vision. He is a floating fiery ghoul, by all accounts. One who may or may not be able to see. 

Even so, the sight is formidable. He’d be impressed—seeing the effect up close like this is different than seeing it through the Mecha Man suit—but the image of the man slipping on a puddle and breaking his tooth on the bar makes it difficult to be anything but vaguely amused.

“If you’re gonna throw me off, could you at least do it in your other form?” Robert asks lazily, leaning back. “I’d like to die without third-degree burns on my back, if at all possible.”

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or; dispatch, but flambae is a romance option