#ceruli

Laxus and my guild marks.

Laxus’ emblem is on his left ribs with a tattoo along his chest and shoulder.

Mine is on my right hip with the same tattoo up my waist and around my lower back.

We were 17 when we got them.

She smiled like an idiot as she entered the guild hall, eyes falling on her s/o, taunting a certain pinkette.

“Laxus!” She cried, latching onto his back.

“C-Ceruli! What are you-?” He blushed, forgetting about the little dragon slayer, and moving to support her weight.

“We match!” She grinned, nuzzling into his neck.

“What are you talking about?” The teenage lightning mage questioned.

He could feel her face heat up against his neck so he gave her thighs a reassuring squeeze.

“We match.” She muttered, her lips brushing against his shoulder.

“Match how?” He asked.

She jumped down, hooking her thumb in the right side of the waistband of her pants, and pulled the pant leg down partially.

This reaction had already caught him off guard, and the black inkings on his girlfriend’s hip nearly killed him.

“We match.” She smiled up at him.

His face was bright red and he covered his mouth with his hand.

“What?” She asked quietly. “Do you- Do you not like it.”

There was a moment of silence where she seemed to shrink.

That was until she was suddenly spinning in the air, two large hands grasping her waist.

“Are you kidding?” He almost shouted, “I love it!”

He set her on her feet and pulled her in for an excited kiss, she could feel light tendrils of electricity flow through her.

“And I love you.” He grinned.

“Darling, you don’t have to do this, you know.”

Though Astarion sounds annoyed, Ceruli knows better than to believe it.

“Have you forgotten that I’m undead? This… minor wound will be gone by morning if I should be so lucky to taste of a certain someone’s blood.”

“So you’d like it to remain filthy with whatever grime and gunk your dagger has come across?” She clucks her tongue. Undead or not, he deserved the same care.

“I’m simply saying you needn’t waste your time, I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Hold still, I’m almost done,” She dips the now-stained cloth back into the antiseptic, watching as the blood swirls from fabric to liquid.

Astarion does still, at least enough for Ceruli to finish wrapping the bandage around his hand. This kind of quiet from him was rare, sharp eyes watching her every move as if she’d turn on him in the next breath. A learned behavior, one she could only blame on his previous life— the more she came to know of Cazador the more she wanted to grind him carefully into dust…

No, not now.

She takes his now-bandaged hand and raises it to her lips, placing a gentle kiss upon it, “Thank you, for letting me take care of you,” She releases his hand, beginning to gather her things while also hiding a cheeky grin.