I Will Follow Him

((Holy crap it is them!! It's them!! In swimming anime!! PFFFFF I CAN'T. I'm also dying because apparently my faceclaim for Sitron has also been part of a swim team! aSDlfaskjdhf))

Hansoff Week: Word Prompt - Sitron & Sven [ servant-sitron's design of Sitron and my design of Sven ]

So the tablet is MIA so I’ve been doodling on paper, which is my sworn enemyyyy, but here, have some of my frozen babies, my oc and friend’s OCS

   R!Andrew & Charlie // Andrew & Lewis 

   Jamie & Marc

   Revolutionary Girl Utena; Sven and Sitron

   Andrew & Kristoff, yelling at Hans in our OT3 thread.

If they had a kid meme: { Majestic Love } - The twins

Name: Blake and Molly Peters Bjorgman

Gender: Male and female

General Appearance: Auburn brown hair + Hazel eyes

Personality: Wild, adventurous, silly, but sometimes seclude themselves from other people.

Special Talents: Blake can do any kind of art, and Molly can do any kind of sport

Who they like better: They love both their parents. They adopted them from an abusive home life when they were 5 and 

Who they take after more: Sven, they are so goofy, but sometimes Molly enjoys to bake and Blake likes to chat with Sitron.

Thank you so much this!! I would still love to do this AU as well if you are interested because they are hella cute <3

Maddox looked up from his laptop, squinting slightly in the dark light. “Uh… yeah?” he smiled, lifting his eyebrows in polite acknowledgement of the other. He had agreed to let him stay the night after finding him wandering down town, searching for his house. It had been much too late to keep looking. { And though Maddox would never admit it, he was t e r r i f i e d of being out that late in the dark }

So he’d brought him home and set him up on the couch.

"it is late. Can’t say I’m surprised." he pressed a few keys on his rusty old computer, saving his work and slipping it calmly off the bed and making some room for the other. He wasn’t super fond of the idea of sharing the bed with another stranger, especially considering his… unusual physicality. However, to be fair his couch was murder on anybody’s back and it wouldn’t do to let the man suffer.

"Why dontcha… uh… come sleep with me? Plenty o’ room and uh… Yeah. Just go ahead and get comfortable. Get some rest. We’ll find yer place tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry."

He peeled back the blankets for Sitron before turning over and burrowing beneath the blankets.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep..."He didn't want to be rude and say that the couch was uncomfortable, but the thought lingered in the air as he approached. The servant was so sleepy and exhausted from the hours of work and on top of walking around the city for a good three hours, he was done.

When the bed was offered, Sitron immediately headed to the free space made for him and made himself comfortable.

Oh yes. The mattress already made a huge difference with comfort and the small pale man was already slipping into a land of dreams. He would have to thank him properly when he woke up. maybe make him breakfast? Or would he prefer being paid? Or maybe he could treat him for lunch.

                         days passed,                                                one week,                                                                  and finally…

Charlie was dead. Charlie had ceased to exist perhaps… two weeks ago. He’d died in a trickling of vodka and the buzzing of an electric razor, in the sharp sting of a piercing gun and a tattoo artist’s handiwork. And in his place, there emerged a rather charming and amoral young man who went by Lewis.

Same eyes, same complexion, same face… but it all seemed wrong. He looked hard. He looked older, and he looked dark. There was nothing familiar about him, so of course Lewis didn’t expect the young man to recognize him. Not even when he came up behind him and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Lost again?” he inquired, his voice smooth and dark, almost teasing. He stepped quickly into Sitron’s path, tilting his head and smiling, his tongue tapping lightly against his pierced lower lip and his brows lifting in amusement.

He’d been following the other for a while now, his icy blue eyes sparkling with malicious amusement and, although he’d never admit it, excitement to see this man who he’d considered a friend. He was excited to show him how he’d changed.

He wasn’t meek anymore, or scared, or pathetic. He was stronger now, darker now. Self sufficient. He could survive on his own and he could be the aggressor. He stared at the other in silence for a moment, the darkness of the empty street surrounding them like a warm blanket. The distant wailing of cars in and the soft, diffused twinkling of buttery lights added to the scene. Making it soft, and perhaps helping to take the awkward edge off. { After all, this reunion had the potential to be very awkward. Depending on how Sitron took the news, of course. }

Hazel eyes followed the boy as he moved swiftly until he was now blocking his way and looked back, trying not to look intimidated. When their eyes met, Sitron paused before speaking and wondered.

Where... Has he seen this young man before? He didn't recall ever meeting an eccentric person like him, but something seemed so familiar, yet not. Like a reminiscence of a dream. He tilted his head, trying to associate his face with something he had some recently or perhaps a few weeks ago? Then, the boy folded his fingers to resemble a pistol and held it to his head. Slowly, the eyes lit with memories of that day.

In the alley. A student. A boy with glasses and a gun. He helped him find his way home. “Charles?” Sitron beamed, so glad to see that the boy was—at least what he could see—doing alright and did not try again to take his life. He felt foolish for not asking for a contact number in case he wanted someone to call. That evening still haunted him and the look on his father's face didn't help ease his worry.

“I'm sorry, I barely recognized you...” His eyes wandered over all the new piercings, clothing and hairstyle. Honestly, he looked like a completely different person.