the pyre

Dorian - Strigoi - 3,487

[dcrixn]

bloodyrhiannon​:

seraphiimx​:

For so very long, it had only been Ángel and Dorian, as they traversed from village to village, town to town in search of whatever would wet their fangs and soothe their need for more. They had passed on their gift to those that had deserved it, sending them out into the world to do their bidding, and ensure the Mars bloodline loomed over all the others. Yet, as the centuries passed them by, the family of two expanded, branched out to include others. Like Luciana, and Rhiannon. And now, little Gabriel.

Though his hand hesitated at first, Ángel eventually reached out and plucked the envelope from the table. His gaze focused upon the name, as the instructions were spoken to him. And though he had always been a brat, even after all these years of being what he was, he would never deny Dorian these last requests. “I will do everything in my power to keep him safe,” and it was a promise that he would keep, until his own life was potentially stripped from him. He tucked the envelope into his pocket, where he would keep it safe until he found the little brother of his. “I will tell her, though she’s probably off somewhere still sulking,” or destroying the little knick knacks that he had scattered about his home. The little troll.

The hand at his cheek had his jaw clenched tightly, for Ángel knew precisely what was about to come next. He dreaded it, if only because this was precisely what everyone did at the end. When they were close to death, and either making amends, or making sure that their kin would be alright. Ángel would not be alright. But for now, in the face of Dorian, he would lie and ensure he would be. Anything to make this easier for his father. “I remember,” because how could he forget anything about the man that had given him everything. That had changed his life, even if Dorian doubted it now. More tightly his jaw clenched, just as the dead organ within his chest constricted. How could he feel so much pain, when he was nothing more than a corpse. Shouldn’t the feelings of a human have been killed off just as he had been.

“I love you, too,” he finally whispered, gaze intent upon the man before him. There had been so few in his life that held any sort of space in his heart, in his thoughts, and Dorian had been the first. “Everything that I am is because of you, Dorian. You gave me the life that I never could have had being who I had been.” The little farmer’s boy, whose name had been killed just as he had the very night Dorian had changed him. “You gave me a purpose, a future, and I will never forget that. Even if I live another three thousand years, I will never forget you.”

@bloodyrhiannon​​

✠

There was a time when she was lost, weak, thrown to the side by her sire so that she might find her own strength. And she had. Dorian had been her strength. He hadn’t made it easy for her, but he had become more than a mentor and more than a protector - he’d been a father. Morrigan had always been a proud soul, and she’d never had any good experience with parents. Most of her identity was centered around hatred for a biological father who had the world at his royal fingertips and gave none of it to her or her mother. So brother was what she called Dorian, older brother. Because amid all the scathing remarks and all the ways that he’d forced her to learn what it is to take from the world, he had also defended her, fought at her side. He had looked at her with eyes of affectionate pride, he had listened when she spoke and trusted her with his life. Dorian had been her first love in her new life, one paternal and fraternal all wrapped in one. The one who had known her longest and lived to tell the tale. 

So perhaps the idea that he was mortal once more was something Morrigan never really tried to think about. She figured he had many years left, and by then she would figure out a way to keep him around. Or else she’d simply forget his reality so she needn’t suffer the horrid anticipatory grief. But Morrigan had avoided Dorian for a while after the wedding, feeling petty towards his anger. However, when life got difficult or too much to handle, he had always been the first she went to. Magnus was back, the Senate was in shambles, she hated being at odds with Dorian. That day she had greeted the morning with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had to apologize, or at the very least guilt him into smiling at her again so they could talk normally. She was procrastinating, thinking how to best go about it when a text came in. 

Morrigan wasn’t sure she’d ever run so fast in her life.

The door was nearly knocked off its hinges as she invited herself into the home that she knew as well as her own. Stumbling slightly as she made her way in over to Angel’s side, her eyes locked on Dorian. Panic seized her as she knelt down, dead organ hammering in her chest. “Hey,” she said, her voice cracking. She should have prepared herself more for this day, should have known how to react and what to say. But for a moment, Morrigan was lost. Utterly lost. The look on her face was one of the young, fresh vampire full of fear and uncertainty and none of the bravado and confidence that had long ago crafted a legend. “You- you’re not supposed to be going anywhere. Don’t. Don’t do this, Dorian.”

@dcrixn​

-

Dorian didn’t fear he would be forgotten, no. He’d forgotten so much in his life already, but he hoped he’d been around long enough to just help. He’d never forget Angel, Morrigan – Gabriel. His life with Luciana, all his children that he’d lost before. Dorian had run away out of fear of losing them – out of fear that he’d be the one burying them, but that had been selfish. It’d taken him a few weeks to come to terms with it, pushed on by the two now near him. He pulled Angel towards him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. There wouldn’t be a lot of time left for words, but he knew that he would live on, somehow. His biggest regret was learning Gabriel had regenerative healing, that his son would be around for a long time – and he’d never get to see what else he would do. But Angel and Morrigan would, and perhaps that would be enough.

“Help me, please,” he said finally, feeling like his limbs were made of stone. It wasn’t far from the truth, but with Angel’s help, he made it to the bed, his lungs shaking as it tried to deal with the weight of his own skin. As soon as he set his head down, he heard the door basically come off of its hinges. It wasn’t difficult for the terror to know who was there, her presence always demanding, like her nature. But he loved her for it, despite the harsh words that they parted on. 

Her pleading words were enough to make him try and give her a smile, one that would ease her pain. Placing his hand on her cheek, Dorian took in another breath, “I used to think I wasn’t ready. But I think the best part of my life has been seeing you both. It always has been. We’re never truly ready, are we?” His gaze was filled with warmth, one that he hoped was enough. It wasn’t his choice to go so soon – he had hoped he maybe had another decade in him, but perhaps the stress of the city had caught up to him. The stress of his lifetimes upon lifetimes. Kitanetos wished to rest, and the name that he’d given up so long ago sat at the front of his mind yet again. Everything there would be left to the two of them, a letter for Gabriel. “What is death but another beginning?” The words were quiet, spoken in an old Minoan dialect, and Dorian was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes focused on Angel and Rhia. A gray hue took hold of his being, seemingly seeping in through the veins in his hands. They rested on his chest, gaze never leaving the two vampires as eventually, somewhere in the midst of their voices, Dorian breathed no more. 

@seraphiimx​

[dcrixn]

seraphiimx​:

Three thousand years, since Ángel had been nothing more than a measly mortal, stumbling around the streets of some unknown town in search of some destiny he had devised for himself. No guidance, no protection, nothing to his name except the clothes that had been on his back. That is, until Dorian had stepped into his life. Until the other had found him in that makeshift shelter, with a split lip and a darkened eye, shivering from the harsh wind on that fateful night. What had transpired after may have been selfish in the eyes of Dorian, but for Ángel, it had been the destiny he had long been waiting for. It had been a choice he would have gladly made, over and over again. 

It had been that choice by Dorian that had found Ángel always by his side, through the many centuries that they had stood the test of time. Though there were times where he had drifted off on his own, he had always be there whenever his sire had called, whenever his sire had needed him the most. And when Dorian had been taken from him, when that pain from the loss had ripped through him, Ángel had been a mess. So when that text message came, he was reminded of that pain, reminded of the loss that he had dealt with until Dorian had been returned to this realm.

The door of the home opened hesitantly, Ángel already preparing himself for what was to greet him, for what was to come that day. He was foolish to think that anything could prepare him for this moment, but he wouldn’t have chosen to be anywhere but at Dorian’s side. “This can’t be it,” came the soft words, spoken low as he took the seat across from the other. “It’s too soon.”

-

There was little time to argue about it all, but he knew that he’d be met with denial ahead of time. But it’s why he called for Angel, first. The first one to greet him when he’d been a strigoi, to accept him and forgive him, it was hard to love someone so deeply, to have them for over three thousand years, to care for them and raise them like the children Dorian had lost. But Angel was his – there was no question there. He pushed the little envelope across the table, towards Angel, “Give this to him. I sent him a message, too, but I haven’t heard from him. Find him, make sure he’s okay, Angel.” There was a part of him that wanted to save Gabriel from saying goodbye, they’d barely had any time together – but that wasn’t a choice he would take away from his son. Though it seemed like fate had different plans; perhaps his son didn’t want to see him after all.

“Morrigan – will you tell her?” Maybe she’d come, perhaps she’d make it in time, but they hadn’t ended on good terms at the wedding. Dorian had been worried sick about his little psuedo-family. About Angel as the sickness took over, about Morrigan, as her morals spiraled out of control. All of it was his own doing. He’d done this to them, and Dorian wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

He reached out now, placing his hand on Angel’s cheek. Cold and lifeless, as their kind always was, but still warmth refused to bring itself to Dorian’s skin. Life was slowly leaving him, and he could only give his son a sad smile, “I was Kitanetos when you met me. Remember that? I remembered it this morning. What it meant.” Such a dead, old language, much like Dorian was, but now wasn’t the time to reminisce. “I love you, Angel. There’s no one else I would’ve had by my side for years, you know that, right? Everything I did – I did it for you. For Morrigan. For Gabriel. I want him to know that.”

[dcrixn]

@seraphiimx​​ Notes: Dorian says goodbye <3

The witch had told him, all those centuries ago on Crete, how when death approaches, it’s quietly. There was no grand gesture, and truthfully, the strigoi never really wanted one. He’d gotten his soul back, as mangled and twisted as it was, and he’d tried to do what he could to change his life. He loved, he mourned, he lost – but he tried, and maybe that had to count for something, didn’t it? Dorian felt he deserved a soft epilogue, one that would reunite him in Elysium with his wife, his children – all of them, each one that had been torn from him. But that meant leaving those behind on earth, to face the world alone finally, when he couldn’t be there to help them, to provide comfort, or a place to stay. 

That’s what he did best, anyway. A monster that turned soft, had committed so many atrocities that eventually, there was nothing to do but reflect. Reflect how he had done so much wrong, that making a right was perhaps the least he could do. Maybe the first right choice he’d made was when he’d found Angel, beaten and bruised, left for dead – maybe it was a selfish choice, not wanting to be alone, having lost his immediate family. But the vampire was his to look after, the first that he’d ever changed, and then life had taken them everywhere since.

It’s why as Dorian sat there at his table, a coffee in front of him, a single envelope labeled Gabriel upon it, he wanted for Angel to appear. He knew the vampire would come, a single text was really all it could be.

It’s time.

[dcrixn]

@lucianavulpe​​

They’d been separated once Luciana had gotten him to safety, but it had never really been possible for the strigoi to find such a thing. He had found Angel, who’d run from him early on, but the argument he’d had with Rhiannon? Enough to make him upset about it. He figured he should talk to Luciana about it, check on her now that everything had settled with the vampires. He was slightly worried about it, but what could he say? The vampires weren’t exactly being punished by anyone, instead they were simply glorified by Romulus – someone Dorian had known so many centuries prior. As one of the first Marshals, he remembered how he’d abused the systems. The Senate had simply...looked away.

“Luciana,” he looked up when she opened the door, and the relief on his face was palpable. He stood there, not exactly planning on entering; it was still strange, how they could have a semi-normal friendship. History had always been like that to Dorian. When he’d been ancient, and she a relatively new vampire, no family but the ones that he’d come to love along the way. “I need your help with Morrigan.”

[dcrixn]

bloodyrhiannon​:

✠

“Don’t start talking bullshit with me,” she snapped, clearly able at least to find nothing funny about being compared to The Eye or the assumption that she’d ever lay a hand on Dorian, the man who’d made her almost everything that she was. Sure she did want genocide, but that was just for one species. Morrigan wasn’t that psychotic. The last thought almost made her giggle. Though normally she would continue to stay angry at those words, the wine had softened her up. She inhaled deeply, her arms crossing over her chest. “When Senator druid over there wakes up Juno, he’ll just remember he was a hair breadth’s away from death and possibly bigillion years of waiting to come back or never coming back again like the rest of his kin that we’ve watched disappear like smallpox. I just saved him the trouble of worrying if he’ll ever return and then I even saved him a little bit of extra suffering. Simple as that. If you’re worried about me, don’t be. You haven’t needed to since I was 300. Forget for a moment that my progeny is a Senator and I’ve got a shit ton of other resources to keep me alive, I’ve survived worse than few angry magical furries.” Octavian was her biggest concern since their other Archdruid was sleeping, or would be when she gained some logic. The big kitty cat lion might be an issue; she’d seen his impact in his other lives. She wouldn’t dare try to fight Eren one on one. But Morrigan was also much faster with keener senses and she’d lived among hundreds of his kind in Ireland - she knew how they worked. He could try.

-

“I have to — it seems to be the only language you understand.” Dorian’s disappointment seemed to know no bounds as he looked at Morrigan. Her words stung, but maybe that’s why he had to remind himself that he wasn’t as needed as he wanted to be. Despite what she said before, what Angel had said— Dorian wasn’t who he used to be. A strigoi was hated, hunted, yet another terror that wasn’t supposed to exist. His soul had been put back into his body, sure, but it was so mangled and twisted, Dorian had never recognized it. How long had it been within the inferno? Centuries upon centuries, it was a shock that he even knew what was going on half the time when he wasn’t getting flashbacks of torture and endless pain. He found no more need to remind her of her mistake she’d just made, instead steeling his gaze. Dorian didn’t look at her like a dear friend, another pseudo child he’d adopted along the way; instead, he looked at Morrigan like he was looking at a stranger.

“Fine, Rhiannon. You’re right. You haven’t needed me in centuries, so I’ll let you be.” He took a step back from the woman, annoyed beyond belief. It wasn’t how he wanted to end things, not like this and when he felt like he was always approaching death’s doorstep, but she’d given him barely a choice. She wasn’t in her right mind, but perhaps that was the only way the truth could be spoken between them. “Stay away from my son — he doesn’t need someone like you in his life. Not this version of you.” At least Gabriel would be safer away from this mess.

[dcrixn]

bloodyrhiannon​:

✠

The increasing seriousness from her oldest friend clashed horribly with the fey wine. Because her true mind knew that this was not at all something she wanted; fighting with Dorian was just not something she did. Because deep down, she felt it was likely just a lot of unnecessary guilt which kept him tethered to her, despite time and physical distance between them over the centuries. Guilt that she had been been grown and strengthened at his hand. He had a soul now, and feelings and all these moral dilemmas that Rhia had long since abandoned to prevent them from weighing her down. She’d been weighed down by emotions her entire faiman life - quite literally. Supernatural empathy had been a bitch of a curse.

Rhiannon was now uncomfortable with her clashing logic and not-so-sober head, but Dorian was angry and it was enough to make her focus a little more. She furrowed her brows and scoffed. “You know how many dying soldiers I’ve seen in my life? He was gone. Getting my blood into his system is one thing but waiting for it to work?” She scoffed again. Though there was now no way she was going to admit that she had watched the druid get to that point - that she could’ve taken the vampire off him just a little earlier. “And now what, Dorian? The druids are almost an extinct species, he may not have even come back. Now he’s still here. And he’s my progeny - you know Theo. I take care of my own. I didn’t have to get one step closer to triggering my curse, but I snapped his neck and whoop - there went his pain! Now he’ll be immortal when he wakes up.”

-

She perhaps forgot who she was talking to, or at least, that’s what Dorian assumed – especially about dying soldiers and all that. Either way, he let it slide, as he did most things that Morrigan got up to. She was a true friend, and he would always tell her what he thought – even if she thought he was misplaced and misguided. “You and I both know that’s an exaggeration.” He took another step forward, now closer to her so he could keep his voice down among the chaos. “Exactly. They are dying out. You speeding up the process? No one will thank you; there are druids out there that will kill you. Octavian? Did you forget he’s here? And you’re a marshal, that was a senator that could’ve been healed or brought back in another lifetime. And look at me, Rhia – my kind? We’ve nearly gone, too. Finish me off then, help another one of those extinct species die out. Help the Eye do its job.”

[dcrixn]

sethlozano​:

          a gift for @dcrixn,

          “You’re so pathetic now,” it’s laughed out, stems from this feral and manic disposition that’s been amplified to extremes since the wedding began and chaos descended upon the event. They’d been friends once upon a millennia ago, the relationship sort of wilting and snapping beneath the throes of time but he laughs now in face of Dorian; once a powerful vampire, whittled down to this sad little terror. His arms come up as if encompassing the disaster which unfolds around them, “It’s time to live a little again before your time is up.” What the hell could a strigoi do? Seth wasn’t entirely sure and there was this little itch that bloomed in wonder of what a strigoi could taste like, too.

“And you remain pathetic, as you always have been.” Dorian tilted his head now, the terror standing his ground only because he knew what awaited the vampire if he took a bite. But all realistic thought had escaped Seth’s mind, that was obvious. There was still guilt that the former vampire carried in his chest, guilt about how when he’d died, he’d hurt so many vampires throughout the world with as old as he’d been. So that’s why he didn’t raise a hand yet to manipulate the blood within Seth’s system, “Rethink your next move, Seth. I don’t want to hurt you.”

[dcrixn]

bloodyrhiannon​:

Most people were quite preoccupied with getting out, but Rhiannon hardly wanted to. She was debating if she should stick around just to make sure her new little vampire didn’t get turned into a meal but… then she ran the risk of one of his druid buddies finding her by his body and while that might’ve not been so bad on a usual day, the vampire was hardly sober enough to have a serious fight and win. So she sighed and got up. She was speeding away when she stopped at the sight of Dorian. 

Oh wait. He looked angry. No thank you.

She almost continued speeding off when the sound of her true name made her hesitate. Her shoulders slumped and she wanted to ask him what the hell was the matter with his face and why it was so angry-looking when he spoke again. And the question was obvious enough, even to a foggy mind. Morrigan paused, looked over her shoulder to where she’d left the Senator and then looked back at Dorian. “Oh, you mean with Dion over there? Saved his life… sorta.” As she continued looking up at him, she stifled a laugh thanks to the fey wine. “Sorry,” she said, the grin hardly repressed. “'Is the wine… your eyes look kinda rainbow. It suits you.”

-

The Eye were in this city, the same organization that had been hunting him for centuries. He couldn’t protect Rhia, not now. He could hardly protect Gabriel, Angel – now he was standing yet again in front of Morrigan, and she showed no remorse. That was too familiar, perhaps, like staring into a mirror. How many people had he done that to? “You know you could’ve healed him with your blood. Don’t start that shit with me.” He stood in front of her now, Dion’s lifeless body just among the many within the Vatican. The vampire was going to wake up, not understand what was next – and Rhia would have to answer for it. “You don’t think, do you? How long will you go on like this? It’s been long enough. Your hatred for the eladrin, your adrenaline highs, you’re a Marshal. That means something. Finally. For you – and now..." 

[dcrixn]

seraphiimx​:

where. the wedding who. @dcrixn​

The Eladrin blood was doing wonders for him, quite nearly setting every nerve on fire as he practically drifted through the areas of the reception. All around him were the smells of blood, each one intoxicating in their own way, each one drawing him in closer, and closer. The screams had grown louder, the pleading and begging to not be bitten, and yet none of it bothered him, none of it pushed through the haze that the vampire was experiencing. That is, none of it until he found himself facing the man who had given him everything. Dorian, his sire, his pseudo father, stood not far from him, and Ángel could smell every ounce of blood that drifted through his veins. “No,” he breathed, though it was not necessary as he stepped back, “you need to leave, you need to go.”

-

“Hey, kid,” He stared back at the vampire now, worry clear in his gaze. He’d been trying to do damage control, trying to find his son, and Angel was here – suffering once more. Dorian had done everything to protect the vampire, his whole life perhaps, until one day he’d known that he’d have to sever their connection to become what he was. But it was almost like he could feel it once more, a memory – perhaps a whisper, but he didn’t want to think about that too much at the moment. He was a terror, not exactly cut out for a vampire’s next meal – his only saving grace, “Come on. We need to go.”

[dcrixn]

@bloodyrhiannon​​

“Morrigan,” He’d watched her, the way she’d snapped that Senator’s neck; the way she’d held no regrets in her gaze. Part of him blamed himself, the man he used to be, but he’d pulled himself out of that mindset. Out of that hell that he’d made for himself. But Rhia? There was disappointment now, that was masked only by the worry. When the Senate found out that a Juno Marshal murdered a Senator? He didn’t know what they would do, but at some point – he knew he had to wash her hands of her. Had to realize that not everything was his fault. Juno vampires fed on souls, perhaps there was no excuse, “What have you done?” He was a terror, avoided by the vampires for the lack of, well, appealing blood, perhaps. It’s how he’d gotten through everything, the crazed vampires turning on themselves.

[dcrixn]

lucianavulpe​:

“I think they mean a lot to the people involved and everyone likes a good party.” It’s sort of steering around the actual topic, it’s a very diplomatic answer. There’s still a lot unsaid between the two of them and Luciana imagines they’ll get down to it eventually, for now they have to get through this, someone else’s wedding. There’s been something in the air for weeks, it could very well be all of the excitement with the queen being in the city, the knowledge that the party would be huge. It’s a vampire wedding, there’s bound to be all sorts of blood and hedonism to get up to, she was sure Angel was in a room somewhere having the time of his life. Aside from that is all the staring, the vacant looks of her kind seemingly dissociating or throwing longing glances towards other guests. She is old enough to discern bloodlust from pining, she often experiences one of those things on the regular. “You know-” She doesn’t get to finish the statement, there’s this scream from just inside and she freezes in Dorian’s arms. Dorian who is not a vampire, Dorian who has spent ample time on the run. “We have to go.” Dorian that she had to protect this time. Her hand on his shoulder moves to his forearm and she hauls them from the dancefloor, immediately kicking off her heels and leaving them there. “Do you know where Angel was?” She thinks about Gabriel as they move, blood a hot commodity and something in her seizes. 

-

Dorian moved with Luciana, though mostly he was being hauled away by the woman. The strigoi didn’t need to drink blood, it was no longer necessary – and for once, perhaps he was grateful that he hadn’t given into the temptation as of late. “Luce – Luce, look at me,” he put his hand on her cheek when they made it out of the middle of the floor. “You need to find Gabriel. Get him out of here – you can protect him better than I can.” He turned as a vampire descended upon a random human, or perhaps halfblood, his murmur stopping them in their tracks. When blood manipulation became one of the few things he relied on, it was easy to cut off the circulation, watch as it crumpled – they weren’t dead, just taken out for the time being. “Please find him. I’ll look for Angel and Rhia. They need me.” 

[dcrixn]

lucianavulpe​:

“Yeah?” Somewhere in all of this, in their finery, seeing the ceremony, she’d stopped worrying that things were strange between them. Luciana has a lot of feelings about weddings, at one point she’d gotten sick of going to other people’s, she’d made her own ceremonies smaller, she’d stopped inviting people. It’s not like she didn’t think they’d come, it was more like how many times did they need to see her get married only to wind up single again fifty years later? None of her actual weddings had mattered all that much after she’d gotten the one she thought she really wanted, it’d all just been for fun. Maybe that was why none of them had worked out after she’d left the man whose arms she currently occupied. “I appreciate it. Apparently it’s frowned upon to play beer pong in the Vatican, but vampire between dead people are fine.” Her eyes roll playfully as they move across the floor but she can’t bring herself to do anything but smile. “The ceremony was nice at least.”

It had been so long since he’d been in the presence of so many vampires. The terror was truly hoping that his presence would just fit in, that maybe he was just another little extra that held no appeal to the vampires around them. That was true at least. But he didn’t have blood lust like others around him did. Even Luciana looked a little nervous, like she could feel it around them. Perhaps it was difference in her desire for souls. Sexy, wasn’t it? “Are you even still a fan of weddings?” It was a joke, one that Dorian had no problem making. After all, there was nothing he enjoyed more than making fun of the woman in his arms. “Did it live up to your standards?”

[dcrixn]

gabriclsanson​:

          Gabriel innately tenses at the embrace, people had not been kind to him, and though his father had shown him nothing but grace since they’d finally met, it was alarming to just jump right into the family spirit. Still, Gabriel braces a smile, fairly excited to see his father in a place that was once his element, “No, no, my girlfriend is here,” he paused, eyeing his father carefully, “And… my boyfriend.” There was also that vampire that had made him their thrall but…. baby steps and all.

How could he have waited so long to meet Gabriel? This one was clearly his. A boyfriend and girlfriend – the strigoi wondered if that was pride, that feeling in his chest. Unreal. “Bad time to meet them?” It was a joke, mostly. He figured that Gabriel was probably more than readily embarrassed at the moment, so he’d give him a chance to relax. “Do you know Elmira?” He glanced at the brides now, “I met the Queen. A long time ago. A long, long time ago.” He tilted his head now, “I was one of the first Marshals when the Senate was created. I can tell you that little has actually changed.”

[dcrixn]

@gabriclsanson​ Location: Wedding

There were so many vampires here, it was unsettling. Not for Dorian, perhaps, but for his halfblooded son, who held most of his attention for the time being. “Gabriel,” he gave a small smile, standing next to the other now before he pulled him into a hug. When had he turned into such a hugger? He wasn’t sure, but he released the other after a moment, “Are you here alone?”

[dcrixn]

@lucianavulpe​ Location: Wedding​

They were dancing. It was a slow one, something perhaps meant for a gentler soul than Dorian’s, but it was reminiscent of a time way before. He’d been a new strigoi, still living on the edge of new violence, of memories of hell, before he’d started running. Luciana had been swept up in that whirlwind, and his grip on her waist only tightened subtly at the memory of her leaving. Even now, he wondered why he wasn’t bitter – why there wasn’t more anger in his heart, but he would look at her laugh during the dip of the song, and remember why he was never all that upset by seeing her again, “I requested Dancing Queen, you know. Just for you. Not sure if they’re taking requests, but thought I’d muscle my way to the front of the line to hear them play it.”

[aintinacage-deactivated20240518]

[dcrixn]

lucianavulpe​:

The thing about Dorian was that despite everything, she always felt like there was a part of him that ached in some way. Like this little sadness in his eyes that just sat there, she caught glimpses of it from time to time. He’d seen a lot, she thinks he’s been plagued by guilt for probably centuries but she understood that such a thing wasn’t quite remedied with other people. Even if Angel, Rhia, and now Gabriel, even herself, even if they forgave him, Luciana didn’t think he’d ever really forgive himself for all the turmoil all the hiding, all the moving around, had brought them. Gabriel was still a mystery to her, she didn’t quite know the history there aside from what she’d pieced together, but she figured that the young man was just happy his father was around. “None of that now, you’re here.” Hiding in plain sight wasn’t a bad plan, The Eye clearly had other things to deal with in Rome if all of the whisperings were true. She took it all with a grain of salt, people liked to tell stories, but Dorian and her had ran before, she knew there was truth to all of it. “We’re gonna be here with the roaches.” The waiter brings about two glasses of wine and she nods her thanks before smiling at the man before her. There’d always been a kind of weariness to him, he’d ran a long time, and now it almost seemed like he was throwing caution to the wind. She thinks they all get like that eventually, at least a little. Or maybe he was throwing the towel in for the sake of his son, Gabriel wasn’t going to have as much time as they did, but she’d never quite met a dhampir in person before, there were things she didn’t know. “And if we’re not, at least we tried, right? We’ve lived full lives already.” One hand on her wine glass, the other reaches to lay a hand over his and she ignores the ache in her chest that the action brings her. “I met him you know, Gabriel. By accident. All he could talk about was you. And as for Angel, Rhia, and I, we’re old, time heals all wounds and all that.” And now it’s her time to offer a pained smile from behind the rim of her glass.

“Luciana, I don’t think you understand,” he tapped the wine glass, wondering how time could pass so quickly yet so slowly all at once. Dorian wished he could turn it back sometimes, but being human was all he had wanted. He’d been so tired, so exhausted of being who he was. Some saw a strigoi as a possible punishment, as something that was less than what they used to be. He couldn’t be around too many people at the wedding, but he wanted to go. Something was off, the air – everything. But he couldn’t describe it. He’d been flying under the radar for too long. “All my children,” he joked, wrinkling his nose now. It was a somber point for him, remembering the children he’d buried. “You say that, but – I feel like I should’ve done more.”

Dorian frowned slightly, reaching forward and taking Luciana’s hand in his own. It had been centuries since he’d done that, but it still meant something to see her here. Her friendship was something he couldn’t lose. “I don’t wish to leave any of them. Or you,” he didn’t think that would be something he’d ever say, but it was hard to walk away again. “But I know that’s not...I don’t know if I could become a vampire again.”