#vampirekilling

I’ll free his friends

...

@vampirekilling​:  🔥 / does sarah find you attractive? ( no longer accepting )

@vampirekilling​ queried: an arm had braced itself around her middle; the hunter’s frame had been close as the pair seemingly slept together.

Oft did Fleurette lay awake at the break of dawn, listening to the birds chirping gleefully in the trees. Deeply ingrained in the circadian rhythm of her body was the regimented schedule that had existed since she was a child—the scholars that had operated the facility in which she’d lived had been not wont to waste precious time when it came to academia. Old habits died hard; old habits lived on as if nothing had changed.

But everything had, indeed, changed.

Simon Belmont was worth his weight in gold—which would have been a small fortune, given that the vampire hunter was built like a bear. The lab rat could not stifle the smile that beamed unseen across her face when she felt a familiar muscular arm wrap itself around her waist. He brought her unending comfort, always, like a holy incense to ward off the unholy beasts. He gave her the greatest gift of all: autonomy.

It was almost (almost) a pity, then, that said autonomy was used for more... unladylike means.

@vampirekilling​ queried: “im NOT jealous ”

❝Oui. And I have a functioning pair of eyes.❞

Sarcastic though she was, the lab rat was caught off guard nonetheless. His jaundiced tone was unexpected, yet the words they encompassed were delightfully droll. His overly protective nature—however he might deny it so—was particularly endearing. Humming through a bitten lip, she drummed pale pads of her fingers against the mug of warm brew cupped in delicate hands. How best to remedy this, wondered Fleurette. 

@vampirekilling​ queried: Of course these two. (if they had a kid)

name: emile belmont.

gender: male.

general appearance: identical to his brother, he is the spitting image of papa belmont, sporting a shock of crimson hair and defining facial features. what sets him apart from gascon is the small scar on his chin from falling over when he was learning to walk.

personality: the more reserved of the belmont twins. a lot of his mannerisms reflect his demure mother. he is terribly shy and much prefers to keep to himself.

special talents: he inherited his mother’s telepathy, learning very quickly from a young age to distinguish minds and their respective thought patterns from one another.

who they like better: simon. papa belmont is particularly soft with the boy.

who they take after more: fleurette.

personal head canon: he seems to have an exceptional gift for playing the harpsichord, like his mama. fleurette would often sit the little belmont on her lap whilst she played.

———

name: gascon belmont.

gender: male.

general appearance: identical to his brother, he is the spitting image of papa belmont, sporting a shock of crimson hair and defining facial features.

personality: gascon is considerably more outgoing than his twin brother. he is forthright and unabashed, ever curious about the world.

special talents: he inherited his mother’s telekinesis, though his manipulation of it is lacking and at times volatile. he’s trying his best, with fleurette’s guidance, to control it.

who they like better: fleurette. mama belmont lets him get away with figurative murder, not having the heart to discipline him for his mischief.

who they take after more: simon.

@vampirekilling​ queried: “ why are you biting your pillow. don’t want me to hear you? ”

Ever did Monsieur Belmot toe the muddied waters of sin and purity. He was an enigma in a world of black and white, presented unto Fleurette as a curious shade of grey. His morals and principles were upstanding; but his angers, sorrows, his desires, were sordidly human in nature. He fascinated the lab rat.

Perhaps it was an ❛experiment❜ in its own right, the circumstance they now found themselves in. Maddening, that another could make her feel the way she now did.

@vampirekilling​ spoke thus:  “🔥?”

“You are like fire.” Her voice is soft, low enough to be a whisper. There’s an intensity in her eyes, in the way she looks at him. Pale hues meet with his own dark gaze and shimmer in the surrounding candlelight — like a sunrise over ice.

@vampirekilling​ queried: “ you are a divine creation—not a monster, little bird. ”

Clouded eyes bore through the crackling flames of the small fire pit lit afore her. Blanched fingers toyed with one another in her lap. Still was Fleurette coming to terms with her newfound companionship, borne of the most curious circumstance. 

She was silent for a time; she contemplated the vampire hunter’s choice words with great gravitas. Divinity was reserved for the purest of creatures—angels, perhaps, carved of blessed stone and hallowed fire in god’s image. What was she, then, if not a ❛divine creation❜ as he so claimed? A monster? She shared more in common with the ill-bred beasts of dark than she did any countenance of light.

A little bird was she, flightless and with broken wings. Her sight had been ripped from her in the cruellest fashion; she had retaliated and shed blood cruelly in kind. Everything she had ever known, however humble an existence, had been taken away. And yet, yet, the intangible threads of fate afforded her company that she simply did not deserve.