A/N: Oh my god I had too much fun writing this. 

Alternate Universe context: The Rivendel College Academy is split into two wings—East wing for Vampires and West wing for Werewolves. Of the two, Vampires are known to be the more intelligent breed. Werewolves on the other hand possess superior physical capabilities.

AAAAA IT WAS SO FUN. And dammit I had more but I wanted to get this out today. Tell me at the end if you want more. I personally liked it but I'm not sure what everyone else would think. It's definitely a play on the stupid-ass vampire romance tropes and werewolf stuff on Wattpad. I love me some satirical content. 

Enjoy!

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"Having suffered from the punishment of immortality for an odd seven-hundred-and-thirty-two years, I hereby provide, in a brief summary, an overview of the two fictional vampiric species you may have encountered in your by-far short and boring lives," said Professor Vaughn Alekseyev to his class of smol, relatively young vampires.

"First, the fictional, literary vampire of Hollywood. Often portrayed as romantic figures and described as elegant or exceedingly sensual and of course, incredibly, factually wrong. This is in stark contrast to the fictional, literary vampires of Eastern European folklore, wherein they are portrayed as animated corpses spreading disease throughout the land and wrecking absolute havoc. Also—unfortunately—incorrect.

"Academically and scientifically speaking, we are not, in any way, related to the lesser demons of succubi and incubi; and neither do we possess the dull brains of corpses and zombies. Us vampires are intelligent creatures. Perhaps a little superior, in fact, when it comes to logic and the vastness of our knowledge.

"When faced with humans cowering in fear with a crucifix or rosary in hand, or some rude Karen sprinkling drops of stale tap water in our faces and ruining our perfectly-ironed suits, we observe the sheer stupidity of the human race. It is only effective if they've somehow had a plate of garlic-heavy aglio e olio beforehand, for that would serve to repel not just the vampiric race but all creatures.

"And yes! We like blood. But no, we do not require the blood of humans or animals or what-not to live our lives of suffering. It is in fact quite similar to the relationship between humans and wine. A sip, every now and then. For personal enjoyment, admiring the moon on nights very much like tonight. As do alcoholics exist in human society however, among us are the guilty few who receive help and guidance under the Ministry.

"And finally—no," Vaughn picked up a book he'd confiscated from a young werewolf he'd passed along the hallway and tossed it in the trash. "We do not sparkle under the sun."

Meanwhile, over at the West wing; Professor Xander Jaxon, head of curricular affairs, was about to start an introduction of his own.

"Omegas? Get laid. Betas? Get laid. Alphas? Get laid," he concluded. "Class dismissed."

"He has a point," said Dmitri Ford to his fellow circle of potatoes: Raul Dalto and Ace Salander, who merely nodded in agreement whilst grabbing their gym bags and heading to their next scheduled class. "What is the purpose of life but getting laid? Why are werewolves bound by natural instincts? Shouldn't eggplants be eggs?"

Indeed, werewolves were extremely intelligent creatures of the dark; seeking and absorbing the knowledge of every single nook and cranny of the world including that of memes. For some reason, packs shared a profound taste for the best of 'em.

"Yeah. Us Betas kinda just... live our normal lives. Do our part in the pack, serve the Alphas and that's... kind of it, huh," sighed Ace with a certain someone at the back of his mind who was unfortunately out of his potato reach.

"It sounds boring but imagine being an Alpha. Or an Omega," Raul shuddered at the thought. "All that pressure to find the perfect mate or something."

"Hey," Dmitri snapped his fingers at the thought of something and turned to the Italian. "You're friends with that guy—Cox. The Alpha who got into trouble with the council over some... some I don't know what thing, but the hearing's this afternoon, isn't it? You think they're gonna, maybe, expel him or something?"

"Oh uhhh," Raul clammed up. "Nah. Can't be. We need him for the Full Moon—he's never lost the physical. That segment has our pride on the line."

True enough, the very reason Xander Jaxon had decided to dismiss his students within five seconds of starting Pastoral Care: An Introduction to the Pack, Life as a Werewolf F0021 had very much to do with this 'hearing' he had to be attending as the head of curricular affairs and Leroy Cox's homeroom teacher.

No surprises; the little shit fucked up big time.

As an Alpha himself, Xander was perfectly aware of the standard, ordinary, almost effortless life cycle attributed to those at the top of their packs. Find the perfect partner. Produce offspring. Die. That was it.

All mythical fantasies of there being one's destined 'mate' would of course, be forced upon the strongest of Alphas very much like parents coming up with strange rituals and traditions to improve the standing of their Alpha offspring: including searching the entire werewolf realm for said destined mate.

Tons of resources had been poured into bolstering, building, perfecting Leroy Cox's future as the head of the pack that also included daily meetings with mate candidates from every corner of the world and yet—no destined one.

It wasn't so much as rejecting these candidates or them not having met the Alpha's expectations that were the issue; Leroy simply did not believe in things like fate or destiny or things that were 'meant to be'.

It'd barely been a year since he'd entered the college academy for matured wolves and the motherfucker had already broken every single rule of the pack and was now dealing the final blow by—

"—seducing a vampire?!" Blake had his hands up in the air when Xander entered the room, visibly exhausted by all the cumulative shit Leroy had stirred in the past couple of months despite having won every single physical challenge and competition against the East wing. "Cox, I can't help you this time."

"It was mutual," Leroy established, lounging on the leather couch in the headmaster's office where the hearing was about to be held. Those from the East wing had yet to arrive and were known for their uncanny ability to arrive a second before the arranged time.

"Look, it doesn't matter if it's one-sided or not," Blake had had in the past counselled tons of wolf cubs with relationship issues but this, hands down, stood out as an anomaly. "We don't hang out with the people on the other side, and they don't hang with us. There's a lot of things you don't know about their culture, their hierarchy, and you had to pick—out of all the vampires you could have romanced—their top-scoring researcher, also student body secretary, also academic genius." The counsellor gave up with a sigh, head in his hands.

Leroy proceeded to miss his point by a mile. "Yeah he's hot."

Both Xander and Blake stared at the little shit like he was the reason they have trouble sleeping at night and deserved a higher paying salary. "Okay kid," the older Alpha sat across him. "No more fucking around now. The headmaster called you two in for a hearing because guess what? You're about to be expelled from the academy. This is your only chance to save not just your ass, but that vampire's too—"

"Vanilla."

Xander paused, raising a brow. "What."

"That's his name."

The Alpha took in one deep breath. "Fine. Vanilla. Say it was a mistake and you guys have a better chance at staying on with a lighter sentence. I don't give a fuck about who you're dating but the fact remains. You two were found out. The headmaster doesn't tolerate stuff like this."

Leroy was quiet.

Closing his eyes was enough to bring up the image of them skating on a frozen lake in the middle of January on a frosted evening. There was no wind that day; just a soundless night of a land cloaked in snow and the smell of chamomile tea in the air. Opening his eyes dispelled everything but the scent of flowers. A scent that reminded him of the evening chill and a rendezvous under the moon.

"You choose who you love?" He directed at Xander, who snorted and wished he could laugh at a little brat talking about his feelings as though he was an expert. He didn't laugh.

Only because he was secretly married to a sweet human being who he thought was really an angel in disguise and in truth, he could most certainly relate to Leroy's current situation but he wasn't going to reveal all that to a student.

"Actually—yeah," he faced him straight on. "You do. You're the one refusing the concept of a destined mate that has been decided for you, so yeah. You're choosing the person you love."

Leroy wasn't letting him off easy. "You can't choose your mate, sure. But whether or not you end up falling in love with them—that's not up to you either." He shrugged. "If you don't love them, you can't force yourself to. And if you love someone, you can't force yourself not to love them."

Xander nearly promptly presented his student with a middle finger because one, this was the first time he'd heard him speak in full sentences more than a couple of words and two, he made a good point. Fuck him.

The Alpha in question knew he'd hit the nail on the head just from the look of annoyance in Xander's eyes and Blake clearly having given up on persuading him otherwise. He wasn't expecting a response; merely closed his eyes and waited, again, for the winter chill.

*

"But Vanilla, there must be some mistake. That boy is an idiot! You cannot possibly be attracted to him," reasoned Vaughn Alekseyev before his favorite student, sitting him down in Professor Marseille's office where the three of them engaged in a heated debate.

"Make no mistake, Professor Alekseyev—he is an idiot. Barely knows how to spell 'favorite' and yet, I find myself hopelessly attracted to him and his... his braised chicken a-and and grilled fish. I know I may sound perfectly ridiculous. I am well aware of it. But of course, this hasn't in any way affected my academic performance and the progress of my research; which, I believe, Professor Marseille you've witnessed?"

Marseille folded her arms with a sigh. "Well. Straight A's, no doubt. Even had a perfect score for that arithmetic test I gave last week, completed in half the time everyone else took, too."

Vanilla's shoulders eased at her words, glad that he hadn't disappointed his mentors in the process of romance. After all, he did begin spending his evenings with a certain idiot instead of the book in the East wing library.

"I do not doubt your abilities, Vanilla," established Vaughn in a desperate attempt to convince the person he regarded to be the hope of the entire vampiric race. "You have always delivered on every occasion. The headmaster even invited you as a guest judge for the West wing's blue moon territorial. No student from our end has ever been granted such treatment. Everyone regards you as a strong candidate for regal ascension."

Knowledge, intelligence and wisdom were considered, among vampires, as prized traits for centuries. It was therefore unsurprising to many that Vanilla, despite having lived for a mere twenty-odd years, would be granted an ascension to the very top of the council with the sort of insight and critical skills he possessed.

"You have so many years, so much time ahead of you to pick a perfect partner to spend the rest of your life with," said Vaughn. "I simply do not wish for you to lose everything you have built up to this point by... by taking a werewolf as your significant other."

Truly, Vanilla appreciated and was, in fact, incredibly grateful for the care and concern he was receiving from his mentors who, as far as he could tell, merely wished the best for his future.

And yet, the very moment he closed his eyes was the moment he found himself gazing into the heat of a candleflame and feeling its cozy embrace. Indeed, vampires by birth were never meant to understand or even experience the idea of warmth; it was to them, a mere imaginative phenomenon that did not exist in their realm of immortality. Heat was a thing one would read about in books and observe descriptions written by humans and wolves alike but never one of their kind. Imagination could only take one so far.

Alas! To think he'd ever experience the warmth of a flame and draw towards its heat; he'd have to start from the time at the frozen lake.

It was on the night of the blue moon. The wolves were having the usual territorial spar amongst the Alphas and it was by tradition and out of fairness that they'd have a guest judge from the other wing who'd sit in as an unbiased neutral party. Vanilla had been invited on the account of Professor Marsielle's recommendation but this was, really, part of the young vampire's ascension test. This was simply one, among many other ways, he could be tested and proven to the council.

There had been an Alpha under the influence of strength-boosting substances going up against Leroy in the final spar and because everyone else in the arena was intellectually inferior, it had all but crossed their minds.

This was of course, the simplest version of the evening's events that wouldn't have appeared to be so terribly obvious even to the ordinary vampire.

"Silverwing," Vanilla had said to the cheating Alpha after the spar, from his seat that overlooked the entire arena. "I doubt you were allowed to consume any of that before the match."

"Of course not. And I didn't. You're accusing me?"

"It's rather undetectable. The crushed wings of a Silverfang butterfly greatly enhances the strength and agility of the person who consumes it but only after they've experienced some form of external impact. I'd think you a massive fool for taking the full brunt of your opponents first uppercut that was really the most blatant, obvious move when all of a sudden, you began miraculously countering every single one of his attacks halfway through the spar."

"I was learning his moves, bat. Never heard of—"

"Oh yes I see how you were learning to take every single one of your opponents side hooks that were made in the exact same succession on instinct—yes, it really took less than ten seconds to learn either of your sparring patterns—but I'm sure you have a better explanation."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"...also, drinking floral nectar within three hours of consuming Silverwing results in an explosive chemical reaction. We could fetch you some right away, if you insist."

He had been the cold, brutal genius that everyone had expected him to be and exceeded it tenfold. The entire arena of werewolves had frozen over in shock and perhaps even fear at his seeming lack of emotion juxtaposed with incredible observation skills, altogether compounded by a perfect grasp of textbook botany and chemicals.

Either way, he'd indirectly called both finalists fools by learning their sparring patterns in less than ten seconds (or so he claimed) and successfully put a smile on Leroy's lips. To the Alpha, he was a monster of a challenge.

Naturally, Vanilla hadn't quite expected him to turn up at the judging panel's exit gate after they'd agreed upon the dismissal of the other finalist and his subsequent punishment. That night, it was unbearably cold.

The young vampire had pulled out a fur-lined cape to drape across his shoulders for the walk back to the East wing, only because he did not appreciate the dull ache in his limbs he would experience in the cold. Otherwise, his immortal body could pretty much survive any winter. This surprised Leroy because one, he thought vampires didn't feel anything at all and two, this one was actually... kinda cute.

He'd sink into his cape like it was a blanket and all he could really see was his pair of glasses and the pair of frozen lakes right behind it.

ThE wOLf waS tOo stUnnEd to sPeAk. He'd all but stopped in his tracks in the middle of the gate which quite frankly left Vanilla rather perplexed since technically, Leroy was in his way and even if he were to side-step him, due to the density and thickness of his fur cape, he would most certainly not make it past without bumping into said werewolf.

"Good evening. If you would so kindly—"

"You're hot."

"Oh no actually. I'm quite cold now, as you can tell."

Leroy promptly snorted in amusement, hiding it behind dark eyes. "I mean you look good."

This further incapacitated the smol bespectacled vampire. "Oh! Oh. Good? Does that mean... good in a... what does that mean, actually." He sneezed and it was the cutest shit Leroy had seen in all his living life of living.

Sure enough, he'd had his fair share of Omegas coming up to him hoping they were his fated mate or trying to get him interested in their skirts or pants or beds but that sneeze single-handedly beat every flirt tactic he'd been on the receiving end of and he fucking needed to yeet. Something. Somewhere. Conclusion: he was horny.

"You okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get back to the East wing, so, um, my apologies but if you'd excuse me..."

"They just closed the gates twenty minutes ago." Leroy laid out, surprised that he hadn't been informed. He'd assumed they'd in some way or another arranged some lodging for the guest judge since, well, that was usually what they did on blue moon territorials.

"Wha—is that... you're not lying, are you? No, you're too much of a fool to lie. Just look at the way you spar, you're practically an open book brute forcing your way through—sorry, I didn't mean that in an offensive manner. I can tell you're very strong."

This made the werewolf laugh because what in the fuck? This guy was unintentionally hilarious and he was digging it. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and Vanilla promptly followed his gaze. Indeed, the gate had made its full descent and there was not a soul in sight.

"Oh good god, the council couldn't have... they did this to test me. Oh what absolute children. A thousand years of experience and yet, not a sliver of maturity."

Leroy couldn't help but feel a teeny bit bad for the clever vampire. "Just a bunch of stuck-up boomers is what we know," he shrugged. And indeed, that was exactly the impression every werewolf had of those in the East wing. Elitist, vain, overconfident bats with sharp noses and bad sleeping habits.

Not this one though.

This one was cute. And an actual genius.

"Well, um, apologies for holding you up," he sneezed again, pulling his cape a little tighter around him. "You should go back inside now. It's getting cold. I'll wait here till sunrise."

Leroy paused, thinking for a bit. He took the leap. "I was thinking of doing something fun."

"Oh," Vanilla had blinked twice, taking in the odd shade of embers that seemed to spark in his companion's eyes. "Fun? Well. What might that be? It's far too cold for that."

"Hunting."

"That doesn't sound very fun."

"By the frozen lake." He added and this seemed to pique the vampire's interest.

"You have a lake?"

"Yeah. On the far west."

"So... what do you...?"

"I punch a hole in the ice and fish."

There was a good, long pause before Vanilla proceeded to burst out in a fit of mirth. The sheer image of an idiot personally making a hole in the ice only to drop a line down and wait for two hours for a catch when he had the strength to take out wild animals five, six times bigger than he was felt simply beyond his books of logic and reason.

"So?" The wolf glanced at him sideways with a look in his eyes that disarmed. "You coming?"

"Well..." his companion cleared his throat, restraining his excitement and rising interest. "I don't even know your name."

*

TBC...?