[Don't forget, Hector delights in the ugly and grotesque. He was the one who was going to buy that book specifically for the terrible artwork before Leon talked him out of it.
The cheer brought on by the prospect of penning his own book outweighs even the fear of the tavern, and he walks through the door without even a hint of hesitation.]
Shall we drink? Shall we toast? To our future endeavors.
I really don't know if I can take you laughing at me for it.
[ But that's likely just going to tickle Hector's curiosity further, and he's thankful for the scene change.
It's lively inside, but still before the main festival rush. There's a space for them at the far right of the bar where Hector can even sit on the end and not risk a stranger plopping down beside him! Leon goes for those two seats, taking the second from the end for himself. ]
Let's drink! I haven't had the chance to properly indulge in a while. How well do you hold your liquor?
[ Because Leon wants to get hammered... he misses getting hammered post campaign, and this is an opportunity he doesn't want to pass. ]
[He simply must see a Leon Original Illustration now, it is his life's goal.
He takes his seat against the wall, grateful again to have Leon as a shield.]
I... could hold it well enough before. [But in Walter's care, he'd been unfortunately and involuntarily sober. So that might have degraded his tolerance.
But he doesn't want to think about that. Still giddy about the prospect of the bestiary, and with Leon's reassuring presence beside him, why not enjoy the festival a little? One drink couldn't hurt. And he'll deeeeeefinitely stop after one, and not let Leon egg him on.]
[ Does Leon believe him? He thinks so, even if he'd accidentally witnessed Hector's trolling before.
Though he's decided he'll draw for him, he fails to verbalizes it and swivels his wooden seat to face Hector so that it groans. He props an elbow up on the countertop. ]
Two ales for you, then?
[ He tries to estimate what he could handle... ]
Well, the mugs here are large. Perhaps one and a half would do it.
[ Remembering the fruit basket and books, he sets them down somewhere they won't get dirty. ]
[Hector drums his fingers against the bar as he tries to muddle through his scant knowledge of the saints.]
Hmmm, he was an author, wasn't he? Wrote about his sins, before he got boring.
[Maybe his ill-spent youth is why the brewers took him as a patron. That's the only logical reason Hector can think for it. He shrugs. The saints mean little to him- they're all old, dead men who would hate him.]
But to our bestiary, I'll gladly drink.
[And Leon was right, this tavern's mugs are large ones, but Hector drinks deep for their toast. He definitely won't get drunk and embarrass himself. It'll be fine.]
Leon helps himself to the ale after toasting, chattering on and mentioning that it's mean to call St. Augustine boring, but also not invested enough in the particular saint to die on a hill defending him either. There are lots of things to talk about, like the dancing going on outside and the jewelry seller who has been convinced for years that Leon and her are a thing, even during his engagement to Sara.
Conversation like that slip by, and they drink. Half into Leon's second drink in, he eyes the mug Hector sets down. ]
One more drink? If you hate it, I'll finish the rest of your cup. Or carry you back to the estate should you feel unwell.
[Hector drinks and debates that the sins are the most interesting part of the confessions, and that the entertainment value of the text plummets once he moves past them.
And when the first cup finally runs dry, he still feels fine, so he nods.]
Another won't hurt. But no more than that. Remember, you're carrying the basket and the books, and if you forget either because you're dragging me along, I'll be frightfully cross when I come to.
[And back to the discussion, this time on the minute differences between the Greek monsters. No, an eagle front and a lion's back is COMPLETELY different from an eagle's front with a horse's back!
The second cup drains more quickly and less cautiously than the first, and Hector, slightly bright-eyed, still seems in fine spirits.]
[ Hector is doing fine, isn't he? Because if the drinks have hit him, Leon certainly can't tell. Finishing his own second mug, he sets it down with a light thunk and raises his hand to flag down a third ale plus bird leg. ]
I won't forget them. And, even if I did, I'm sure they'd find a way back to the estate one way or another.
[ Beloved as he is, everyone knows him and where he lives. Hector's haul is safe so long as it's tied to him. ]
[Well, of course Hector will need something to wash down the meat with. A third cup can't hurt. Leon says he's barely red! Leon says he's holding up well, and Hector can't help but thrill at the praise.]
People... just do nice things for you...truly? You must... pay them, or something.
[ Leon is relieved not to be the only one drinking— he'll wind up stopping if Hector stops (he doesn't want to do it by himself!), but he wants to leave this establishment at the very least pleasantly buzzed. ]
Pay them?
[ Here comes the disappointed frown... ]
You never spoke too much of your past. By the way you speak, I'd suspect you've seen too much cruelty if you can't imagine kindness freely given by others. It saddens me.
[ And on that note he wonders, ]
Did you have proper friends or family before you were stolen away? Was there anyone else?
[ Their new drinks are placed in front of them, as is the well-seasoned bird leg. ]
[Hector doesn't really like talking about his past, but he's tipsy and Leon is frowning at him, and the combination is making him pretty helpless to resist the probing questions.]
My father was an alchemist, obsessed with money and power. The villagers were already wary of my family because of his experiments trying to find immortality. But then there was me, a morbid child with an off-putting aura. The other children threw rocks at me if I got too close to them, and adults would cross the street and cross themselves when I passed by. So I made my own friends- found dead animals and used the principles from my father's books to rekindle the life in them, to be my pets. The only companions that would have me.
[He takes a long sip of ale.] My mother used to curse me and say I'd been born wrong, that she'd have been better off barren. My father tolerated my existence, hoping he could use my powers towards his own pursuits. He'd burn my pets and beat me each time I brought one home. That's the world I grew up in.
[Is it enough to put you off your ale, Leon? Enough to make you realize he doesn't belong here in this village, celebrating Saint Whats-his-name?]
[ Leon's mouth parts, then closes again. He stares into his ale as if he might find the right words sunk at the bottom of it, and for too long there's only silence between them. His own fault, for mentioning the past. His hand curls around the mug until the knuckles pale. ]
That's no life for anyone.
[ It isn't enough, and he knows it isn't. Still, Leon feels compelled to keep on for him, if only to make sure Hector knows someone is listening. ]
You're here now. And as long as I draw breath, I'll see it different for you.
[ Leon doesn't lift his eyes from the ale at first, but when he finally does, there's a steadiness in him. Beneath that strength lies a softer pull, a flicker of something that belongs only to Hector now. Not that Leon should understand it himself.
He pushes his bird leg to him, though he hadn't ordered it. He wants him to have it instead. ]
I'm sorry to make you remember such things. It was thoughtless of me.
[Hector shakes his head and pushes the bird leg back to Leon. He shouldn't have said any of that to Leon, who is too soft and bright for such harsh realities. But since he started the story, he needs to finish it. If Leon knows the truth, he should have the whole of it, not only the pieces that cast Hector in a pitying light.]
When I decided I'd had enough, I could have simply left and made my own way in the world. But I didn't. I burned down their house. They... were still inside.
[Yes, he'd still been a child, but he'd not been a helpless one.]
So, do not apologize for making me remember. You should have known all of this long ago. The truth of the man I am. I am what they say. 'Evil.' 'Cursed.' 'Wrong.'
[ Leon goes still. His eyes stay on Hector, searching his face for some sign of remorse or grief— something confused or complicated. Something human. Eventually, he speaks. ]
You were a child pressed into cruelty. That does not make you what they call you. Evil delights in convincing men that they are beyond grace, but I do not believe you are.
[ What a party, indeed. Leon exhales, his posture drawing straighter. ]
I have also taken lives, Hector. More than I dare count. The campaigns did not spare me that stain. They told us it was holy work, yet the cries of the fallen sound no less human in my ears, even now. If you truly think yourself cursed, then at the very least let me share that curse with you. I would rather bear it beside you than see you walk alone.
[There isn't remorse, only weariness. He wishes things were different, but they aren't.
He doesn't deserve Leon's absolution. But he's only human, given to greed, and he isn't noble enough to refuse the consolation Leon offers him.]
I don't think even a saint could walk upon this earth without getting some of its filth upon them. If your god would deny you for that, then that's your god's fault, not yours.
[With that casual blasphemy spoken, Hector drinks some more ale. Hmm, maybe he does want some food with it after all.]
Does walking beside me extend to sharing your meals with me? [Just a lil bite of leg. Getting all maudlin about his past made him hungry.]
[ Hector's words about God and the world's filth hang in Leon. Though his faith had carried him through those bloody crusades, even he knows by now that good and evil are rarely so cleanly divided. Especially after everything that'd happened in the castle. It gnaws at him that the "correct" path to pursue isn't clear, but he tucks the thought away, a stone for later contemplation. Now isn't the time.
Mention of food spares them this topic. Leon had started to feel he'd walked this outing off a cliff. Seizing the diversion with quiet relief, Leon scoots the bird leg over to him a second time. ]
I've been trying. Did you not notice?
[ Leon takes a drink of his ale. ]
I sometimes dream of these bird legs. I like how they season the skin.
No, I did... [He ducks his head, a little shy in his tipsiness.] ...but I wasn't sure you'd still want to share, if you knew all that....
[Acts of kindness are rarely aimed his way, and when they do come, Hector is always aware that he doesn't deserve them.
But... the skin of the leg is glistening with oil and he can smell the seasonings in the roasted meat. It's making his stomach rumble. so now he's going to be the girlfriend who didn't order the fries and procedes to steal half from the boyfriend's plate when they come]
If it's what you've dreamt of, you should eat it. I can order my own.
Something like that wouldn't change. Go on, I say you should eat.
[ Eat the leggy, Hector!
—Not that Leon won't very much want more if Hector helps himself to even some of his, which is why he's already ordering a new one before he's beaten to the action. Their problem is solved. ]
Bird toast.
[ What...?
Once it's brought to him, Leon knocks his bird leg against Hector's like he would a mug before he takes a bite. The alcohol, slowly but surely, has risen to his cheeks. He laughs now, like he's done something funny. ]
[ He's biting into his chewing his own when Hector suggests so. ]
I'm not. Not yet...! Maybe after one more though.
[ Leon is satisfied, because he can tell Hector likes the meat. It'd singlehandedly been his main motivation for coming to town. Not for Saint Augustine. ]
I also remember that we have fruit and books to bring home, by the way. I'm not going to forget about them, because you said you'd be upset.
[ He bends and paps the handle like a horse's rump. ]
[Hector takes another long sip of ale to wash down the meat he wolfed down. Yes, it's definitely hitting him. He doesn't have the tolerance he used to.
He puts down his mug and reaches out to pat Leon's head. He's slightly off-target, and ends up stroking one side of Leon's hair with the motion.]
What a, a well-trained pack mule you are!
[It makes him unduly happy, that Leon cares so much about their purchases for his sake. Because he doesn't want to make Hector sad. Who in his entire existence has ever cared about Hector's happiness? Only Leon.]
I-I'll make you happy. I already have plans for you.
[ Leon's hair is fluffy and silky when touched. Against Hector's fingers, it feels exactly as it looks it should. ]
A mule...
[ Probably drunk, he doesn't want to be called a mule. His mouth is too full of bird leg to complain, and he swallows his bite only after Hector mentions his plans. ]
You're planning something for me? Since when?
[ He laughs quick because the notion surprises him. ]
[Leon asked for peach cake that night they met, after all. The rest, deciding that Leon needs a pet of his own, came later, but those initial plans have been there all along.]
Prepare to get happier. It's happening. You can't stop it.
[Unless Leon forgets the basket... or burns down the kitchen before Hector can use it, or something. So technically he could... Hector drains the last dregs from his mug as his thoughts wander down that rabbit hole.]
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[Don't forget, Hector delights in the ugly and grotesque. He was the one who was going to buy that book specifically for the terrible artwork before Leon talked him out of it.
The cheer brought on by the prospect of penning his own book outweighs even the fear of the tavern, and he walks through the door without even a hint of hesitation.]
Shall we drink? Shall we toast? To our future endeavors.
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[ But that's likely just going to tickle Hector's curiosity further, and he's thankful for the scene change.
It's lively inside, but still before the main festival rush. There's a space for them at the far right of the bar where Hector can even sit on the end and not risk a stranger plopping down beside him! Leon goes for those two seats, taking the second from the end for himself. ]
Let's drink! I haven't had the chance to properly indulge in a while. How well do you hold your liquor?
[ Because Leon wants to get hammered... he misses getting hammered post campaign, and this is an opportunity he doesn't want to pass. ]
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[He simply must see a Leon Original Illustration now, it is his life's goal.
He takes his seat against the wall, grateful again to have Leon as a shield.]
I... could hold it well enough before. [But in Walter's care, he'd been unfortunately and involuntarily sober. So that might have degraded his tolerance.
But he doesn't want to think about that. Still giddy about the prospect of the bestiary, and with Leon's reassuring presence beside him, why not enjoy the festival a little? One drink couldn't hurt. And he'll deeeeeefinitely stop after one, and not let Leon egg him on.]
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[ Does Leon believe him? He thinks so, even if he'd accidentally witnessed Hector's trolling before.
Though he's decided he'll draw for him, he fails to verbalizes it and swivels his wooden seat to face Hector so that it groans. He props an elbow up on the countertop. ]
Two ales for you, then?
[ He tries to estimate what he could handle... ]
Well, the mugs here are large. Perhaps one and a half would do it.
[ Remembering the fruit basket and books, he sets them down somewhere they won't get dirty. ]
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[And when he's done drinking that, and feels the pleasant tingle of alcohol loosening him up, he'll just order another.]
So, what's the festival for? Is it harvest time, or a king's birthday, or some holy day I've lost track of? What are we celebrating?
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[ Does this mean anything to Hector? No, probably not.
Smiling at the barkeep, Leon orders an ale for both of them. Their drinks are brought out quickly and he slides his closer to himself by the handle. ]
A toast to our bestiary?
[ He offers his mug Hector's way, arm straightened and waiting. ]
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Hmmm, he was an author, wasn't he? Wrote about his sins, before he got boring.
[Maybe his ill-spent youth is why the brewers took him as a patron. That's the only logical reason Hector can think for it. He shrugs. The saints mean little to him- they're all old, dead men who would hate him.]
But to our bestiary, I'll gladly drink.
[And Leon was right, this tavern's mugs are large ones, but Hector drinks deep for their toast. He definitely won't get drunk and embarrass himself. It'll be fine.]
wooohoooo
Leon helps himself to the ale after toasting, chattering on and mentioning that it's mean to call St. Augustine boring, but also not invested enough in the particular saint to die on a hill defending him either. There are lots of things to talk about, like the dancing going on outside and the jewelry seller who has been convinced for years that Leon and her are a thing, even during his engagement to Sara.
Conversation like that slip by, and they drink. Half into Leon's second drink in, he eyes the mug Hector sets down. ]
One more drink? If you hate it, I'll finish the rest of your cup. Or carry you back to the estate should you feel unwell.
[ pls drinky... ]
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And when the first cup finally runs dry, he still feels fine, so he nods.]
Another won't hurt. But no more than that. Remember, you're carrying the basket and the books, and if you forget either because you're dragging me along, I'll be frightfully cross when I come to.
[And back to the discussion, this time on the minute differences between the Greek monsters. No, an eagle front and a lion's back is COMPLETELY different from an eagle's front with a horse's back!
The second cup drains more quickly and less cautiously than the first, and Hector, slightly bright-eyed, still seems in fine spirits.]
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I won't forget them. And, even if I did, I'm sure they'd find a way back to the estate one way or another.
[ Beloved as he is, everyone knows him and where he lives. Hector's haul is safe so long as it's tied to him. ]
—You hold up well, though. Barely even red.
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People... just do nice things for you...truly? You must... pay them, or something.
[It just makes no sense otherwise.]
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he doesn't want to do it by himself!), but he wants to leave this establishment at the very least pleasantly buzzed. ]Pay them?
[ Here comes the disappointed frown... ]
You never spoke too much of your past. By the way you speak, I'd suspect you've seen too much cruelty if you can't imagine kindness freely given by others. It saddens me.
[ And on that note he wonders, ]
Did you have proper friends or family before you were stolen away? Was there anyone else?
[ Their new drinks are placed in front of them, as is the well-seasoned bird leg. ]
cw: mentions of child abuse
My father was an alchemist, obsessed with money and power. The villagers were already wary of my family because of his experiments trying to find immortality. But then there was me, a morbid child with an off-putting aura. The other children threw rocks at me if I got too close to them, and adults would cross the street and cross themselves when I passed by. So I made my own friends- found dead animals and used the principles from my father's books to rekindle the life in them, to be my pets. The only companions that would have me.
[He takes a long sip of ale.] My mother used to curse me and say I'd been born wrong, that she'd have been better off barren. My father tolerated my existence, hoping he could use my powers towards his own pursuits. He'd burn my pets and beat me each time I brought one home. That's the world I grew up in.
[Is it enough to put you off your ale, Leon? Enough to make you realize he doesn't belong here in this village, celebrating Saint Whats-his-name?]
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[ Leon's mouth parts, then closes again. He stares into his ale as if he might find the right words sunk at the bottom of it, and for too long there's only silence between them. His own fault, for mentioning the past. His hand curls around the mug until the knuckles pale. ]
That's no life for anyone.
[ It isn't enough, and he knows it isn't. Still, Leon feels compelled to keep on for him, if only to make sure Hector knows someone is listening. ]
You're here now. And as long as I draw breath, I'll see it different for you.
[ Leon doesn't lift his eyes from the ale at first, but when he finally does, there's a steadiness in him. Beneath that strength lies a softer pull, a flicker of something that belongs only to Hector now. Not that Leon should understand it himself.
He pushes his bird leg to him, though he hadn't ordered it. He wants him to have it instead. ]
I'm sorry to make you remember such things. It was thoughtless of me.
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When I decided I'd had enough, I could have simply left and made my own way in the world. But I didn't. I burned down their house. They... were still inside.
[Yes, he'd still been a child, but he'd not been a helpless one.]
So, do not apologize for making me remember. You should have known all of this long ago. The truth of the man I am. I am what they say. 'Evil.' 'Cursed.' 'Wrong.'
[What a fun party they are having.]
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You were a child pressed into cruelty. That does not make you what they call you. Evil delights in convincing men that they are beyond grace, but I do not believe you are.
[ What a party, indeed. Leon exhales, his posture drawing straighter. ]
I have also taken lives, Hector. More than I dare count. The campaigns did not spare me that stain. They told us it was holy work, yet the cries of the fallen sound no less human in my ears, even now. If you truly think yourself cursed, then at the very least let me share that curse with you. I would rather bear it beside you than see you walk alone.
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He doesn't deserve Leon's absolution. But he's only human, given to greed, and he isn't noble enough to refuse the consolation Leon offers him.]
I don't think even a saint could walk upon this earth without getting some of its filth upon them. If your god would deny you for that, then that's your god's fault, not yours.
[With that casual blasphemy spoken, Hector drinks some more ale. Hmm, maybe he does want some food with it after all.]
Does walking beside me extend to sharing your meals with me? [Just a lil bite of leg. Getting all maudlin about his past made him hungry.]
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Mention of food spares them this topic. Leon had started to feel he'd walked this outing off a cliff. Seizing the diversion with quiet relief, Leon scoots the bird leg over to him a second time. ]
I've been trying. Did you not notice?
[ Leon takes a drink of his ale. ]
I sometimes dream of these bird legs. I like how they season the skin.
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[Acts of kindness are rarely aimed his way, and when they do come, Hector is always aware that he doesn't deserve them.
But... the skin of the leg is glistening with oil and he can smell the seasonings in the roasted meat. It's making his stomach rumble.
so now he's going to be the girlfriend who didn't order the fries and procedes to steal half from the boyfriend's plate when they come]If it's what you've dreamt of, you should eat it. I can order my own.
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[ Eat the leggy, Hector!
—Not that Leon won't very much want more if Hector helps himself to even some of his, which is why he's already ordering a new one before he's beaten to the action. Their problem is solved. ]
Bird toast.
[ What...?
Once it's brought to him, Leon knocks his bird leg against Hector's like he would a mug before he takes a bite. The alcohol, slowly but surely, has risen to his cheeks. He laughs now, like he's done something funny. ]
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With as straight a face as he can muster, Hector bumps his bird leg to Leon's. An amused snort slips out as Leon breaks and laughs.]
I suspect... we both might be getting drunk.
[He's trying to remember why that was a bad thing. Leon looks pleased enough, flushed and handsome in the flickering lantern-light of the tavern.
Hector takes a bite, and groans happily. Leggy yummy. He's going to clean it to the bone.]
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I'm not. Not yet...! Maybe after one more though.
[ Leon is satisfied, because he can tell Hector likes the meat. It'd singlehandedly been his main motivation for coming to town. Not for Saint Augustine. ]
I also remember that we have fruit and books to bring home, by the way. I'm not going to forget about them, because you said you'd be upset.
[ He bends and paps the handle like a horse's rump. ]
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He puts down his mug and reaches out to pat Leon's head. He's slightly off-target, and ends up stroking one side of Leon's hair with the motion.]
What a, a well-trained pack mule you are!
[It makes him unduly happy, that Leon cares so much about their purchases for his sake. Because he doesn't want to make Hector sad. Who in his entire existence has ever cared about Hector's happiness? Only Leon.]
I-I'll make you happy. I already have plans for you.
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A mule...
[ Probably drunk, he doesn't want to be called a mule. His mouth is too full of bird leg to complain, and he swallows his bite only after Hector mentions his plans. ]
You're planning something for me? Since when?
[ He laughs quick because the notion surprises him. ]
I'm already happy. You don't need to do anything.
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[Leon asked for peach cake that night they met, after all. The rest, deciding that Leon needs a pet of his own, came later, but those initial plans have been there all along.]
Prepare to get happier. It's happening. You can't stop it.
[Unless Leon forgets the basket... or burns down the kitchen before Hector can use it, or something. So technically he could... Hector drains the last dregs from his mug as his thoughts wander down that rabbit hole.]
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and now back to jst timezone waaaaa
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a quick tag before work!!
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hector just a lil meow meow
he's a stray you fed, now you're never getting rid of him
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this is why dracula is insane
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sorry, apparently my computer ate my tag yesterday
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no walter tag tonight i am cucked by my lack of icons sorry T__T I SWEAR I WILL GET TO THEM SOON
no worries!
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leon in this tag: :o
premarital cuddling? /shockedpikachu.jpg
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we can start a new scene once this one wraps up!
👍
look hector it's the mirror you wanted!!
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just lil drac things 😬
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leon says: you were right to block my ex sorry he dmed you like that honey
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stinky return
oops, this is why you don't let your horny houseguest sleep in your bed
😳
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will drop the bookie contents after your next tag!!
books books books books!
1/2 baby drac brings knowledge n drama...
2/2
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honey help i cant open the pickles
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so sorry for the wait! ;v;
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we can move to next scenes of witch hunty/angry churchy stuff soon!! i can make starter for that bit
sure!