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esp_dragonFandom: Noblesse
Summary: Frankenstein wants a change of clothes after sparring with Ragar.
Rating: G
Notes: Pre-series.
Written for the trop bingo square, 'handcuffed/bound together'. Iiii'm being a little liberal with it and taking it more abstractly.
Genre: General
Word count: 376
Status: Complete
Frankenstein exhaled as he entered Master's mansion after a spar with Ragar. He could feel his steady improvement against the noble compared to their first fight, but still, it didn't seem like it was enough; the Dark Spear continued trying to consume him, no matter how much control he developed.
His wounds had healed already, leaving only trails of dried blood to mark their place, as well as cuts and tears in his clothes. He had grown accustomed to mending his clothes after a spar (especially after Ragar's), but he sometimes wished he had Master's ability to change clothes with the flick of a hand.
…Though, now that they had contracted with each other, he could now have that ability.
Taking in a breath, Frankenstein closed his eyes and concentrated on his clothes, not certain what he should be doing. Master had discarded his own shirt, changing it so that it was Frankenstein's so maybe that was the process. Frankenstein imagined a new suit in place of his current one, but after a few seconds he had to admit that he was unsuccessful when nothing happened.
Amusement.
'Ah, Master!' Embarrassment briefly heated Frankenstein's cheeks. Master must have felt all that.
'You made it too complicated,' Master said, not mentioning his reaction. 'Think of what you want.'
What he wanted? The holes gone. Frowning slightly, Frankenstein concentrated on those areas, his body telling him where they were by the coolness it felt in comparison to the rest of it.
He sucked in a breath at some of his energy draining away but he also saw one cut on his sleeve seal itself. The moment passed and Frankenstein checked the rest of his clothes – while dirt still remained, they were whole again.
Hm, though convenient, he would try to do that only when necessary.
More amusement.
'Thank you, Master,' he said, making his way towards him.
'You're welcome.'
Frankenstein was halfway to him when he sent another question down their link. 'Master, I have been meaning to ask you – how did you know what I was wearing when I first arrived?' Even if Master had seen him as he entered, he couldn't have known what he'd originally been wearing.
'It's what you wanted to wear.'
Ah, of course.
Summary: Frankenstein wants a change of clothes after sparring with Ragar.
Rating: G
Notes: Pre-series.
Written for the trop bingo square, 'handcuffed/bound together'. Iiii'm being a little liberal with it and taking it more abstractly.
Genre: General
Word count: 376
Status: Complete
Frankenstein exhaled as he entered Master's mansion after a spar with Ragar. He could feel his steady improvement against the noble compared to their first fight, but still, it didn't seem like it was enough; the Dark Spear continued trying to consume him, no matter how much control he developed.
His wounds had healed already, leaving only trails of dried blood to mark their place, as well as cuts and tears in his clothes. He had grown accustomed to mending his clothes after a spar (especially after Ragar's), but he sometimes wished he had Master's ability to change clothes with the flick of a hand.
…Though, now that they had contracted with each other, he could now have that ability.
Taking in a breath, Frankenstein closed his eyes and concentrated on his clothes, not certain what he should be doing. Master had discarded his own shirt, changing it so that it was Frankenstein's so maybe that was the process. Frankenstein imagined a new suit in place of his current one, but after a few seconds he had to admit that he was unsuccessful when nothing happened.
Amusement.
'Ah, Master!' Embarrassment briefly heated Frankenstein's cheeks. Master must have felt all that.
'You made it too complicated,' Master said, not mentioning his reaction. 'Think of what you want.'
What he wanted? The holes gone. Frowning slightly, Frankenstein concentrated on those areas, his body telling him where they were by the coolness it felt in comparison to the rest of it.
He sucked in a breath at some of his energy draining away but he also saw one cut on his sleeve seal itself. The moment passed and Frankenstein checked the rest of his clothes – while dirt still remained, they were whole again.
Hm, though convenient, he would try to do that only when necessary.
More amusement.
'Thank you, Master,' he said, making his way towards him.
'You're welcome.'
Frankenstein was halfway to him when he sent another question down their link. 'Master, I have been meaning to ask you – how did you know what I was wearing when I first arrived?' Even if Master had seen him as he entered, he couldn't have known what he'd originally been wearing.
'It's what you wanted to wear.'
Ah, of course.