#ED DARLING GOODNESS GRACIOUS!!!

[saltpepperbeard]

What he says: It's everything about that! It's EVERYTHING about fishing.

What he means: I want simplicity. I want sweet nothings. I want you to love me for who I am, for who I want to be. I have been trying to shed my skin, trying to shed who everyone wants me to be. I want to be Ed, not Blackbeard. Just Ed.

And it's scaring me. Seeing you around all of this fame is scaring me. Seeing you not be stoked about my simplicities is scaring me.

Because, deep down, I feel like people only liked me for Blackbeard. People only respected that name, not my real one. And now? I'm folding stuff. And that's okay.

But you weren't okay. I shaved my beard and you ran. I caught a fish and you complimented me only to "make me feel good."

I'm so scared you only like me a certain way. I'm so scared I'm not enough.

I'm so scared you'll leave me because I can't be who you want.

[edsbacktattoo]

hi lets show some love for our mutuals. tag your favorite mutuals and tell them why you love them

oooh bet u thought i forgot about u anon. i didn’t. i’ve been here. scheming and plotting. and i am soooo full of love to give. hold onto your hats

i’m putting the gushing under a cut because this post is getting too long haha whoopsie

@tisziny my darling beloved and dearly cherished friend. one of the first people to reach out to me and i am eternally grateful for their wonderful heart and friendship. my sweetest cheese! 🧀 an incredibly skilled writer and artist who i sincerely admire <3 not enough words to describe my love for them tbh

@skysofrey kaitlin my beautiful and cherished friend and wife. we were cut of the same cloth and then separated at birth but we defied to odds and joined forces anyway! so insightful and kind and sweet and hilarious and overall wonderful (and also sooooo pretty have u guys seen my wife she’s sooooo pretty wtf) 🖤💜❤️

@blackbeardskneebrace miles blackbeardskneebrace the absolute marvel that you are <3 so incredibly nice and extraordinarily talented! every time they post art it adds 100000 years to my lifespan and puts tears in my eyes. genuinely astounding

@blakbonnet despite the angst and antagonising me for Ed’s beard, i will always love Meow with my whole chest. and she can do it all!!! she writes, makes art, makes gifs! she’s even funny and smart and hot and NICE! save some for the rest of us babe come on <3

@gentlebeard ohhhh my sweet wonderful Ella (now with a new and improved url!) so incredibly kind and friendly! always willing for a hot makeout session in the bathroom and will gladly kill someone to defend your honour (i’ve seen her do it). makes edits that make you laugh and then WHABAM!! another that makes you feel like your lungs are being pulled out. love you ella <3

@snake-snack-stede we all know that olivia is the funniest mfer on this whole idiot website. it’s literally not even a contest. but did you guys know she’s also extraordinarily talented? she makes art and animates and makes edits that are gorgeous to look at. also i’m in love with her. she’s the sweetest candy apple at the fair and i’m a snot-nosed kid with an appetite.

@flightoftheconnie sex on legs. i become hot and flustered and feint when i think of her. makes me blush and giggle and kick my feet and she’s funny and smart and hot enough to be in a gallery but she’s here with us instead. give her kisses or die by my sword

@bizarrelittlemew we may not talk often but goodness gracious do i adore you 🥹 my god you’re hilarious and you make some of the most gorgeous gifs ive ever put my gay little eyes on. and yet another blessing to the world of ofmd fanfic <3

@saltpepperbeard JODI!!!!!! if jodi has a billion fans i’m one of them. if she has 100 fans i’m one of them. if Jodi has 0 fans then i’m dead. literally so sweet and kind and enthusiastic and an absolute treasure. and my GOODNESS can she write!! her work feels like a warm hug (just like her!)

@sherlockig literally too hot to be on the hellsite with us but we are so blessed to have her. an absolute TREASURE to this fandom and to anyone who knows her. the amount of lockscreens i’ve got that are just alexz screengrabs is absolutely insane. thank you for all your work i love you forever

@dickfuckk josh — a living breathing legend. any time you need a file? a link? an image? josh has got your back. one of the funniest people i’ve ever interacted with. also makes edits devastating enough to kill a man <3

@xoxoemynn Em my wonderful Cherub From Heaven!!! pure charm and grace, and one of the most enthusiastic and delightful people i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. such an accomplished and skilled writer as well!

@vampirebutterflies my #1 date to the observatory and my partner in crime <33 so effortlessly funny and kind and has the best taste in music ever. every single song they’ve sent me has been an absolute banger and has been put in the frequent rotation (huge shoutout to Vacations)

@bunnyandthejets my dear and darling friend Bunny who is so incredibly kind and sweet. has been so vocally supportive and enthusiastic since we met and i’m so grateful to have her friendship and support. she’s also made me cackle like an insane person on enough occasions to be criminal.

@wearfinethingsalltoowell don’t let the angst fool you, Joy is actually wonderful and a ray of sunshine <3 i’m convinced she just enjoys causing us pain for fun. she’s creative and wonderful and the World’s Number One Olu Enjoyer (and therefore objectively correct)

@sassygwaine is one of those unabashedly kind souls who simply oozes love into everything they do and create. so genuine and resilient and smart!!! writes like an absolute dream too

@chocolatepot a complete sweetheart who was one of my first friends in this fandom, and who has been consistently friendly and supportive ever since. unwaveringly kind and nice. also her writing. oh my god. 😭 a huge inspiration to silly little me

@jellybeanium124 nina is so effortlessly hilarious. she’s had me giggling and twirling my hair on numerous occasions. she’s also full to the brim with good and correct takes. (also a Button’s truther and the world needs more of those.)

@awkward-fallen-angel heather is just soooo lovely!! another one of the people that’s been here since the very early days and i’m always so grateful for her insight and enthusiasm and the sheer joy she puts into everything.

@stedebonnets i mean this so sincerely and with my whole heart: Ara is one of the nicest and most loving people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. an absolute angel who drops in to consistently check on her friends and spread love and joy. we need more Ara’s in the world. also has one of the most beautiful ofmd tattoos i’ve ever seen <3

if you haven’t been included in this list, please know that i love you so so so dearly and that i genuinely am just a little bit stupid (on account of the short term memory issues lol). if you’re feeling left out, send me a message and i’ll say something sooo niceys about you 🥹 i love you all. thank you for being here. <3

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Gingerbread men | G.W.

A Christmas Special

a/n: I've written this as a continuation of Weasley support system but you don't really need to have read it, it can be treated as a standalone piece. Pure fluff!

Summary: Christmas is coming, your eldest son has invited his crush over and all of you enjoy the Christmas Eve together.

word count: 1385

 Taglist general:  @izzyyy-1​ George:  @hufflepuff5972​ Weasley twins:  @pandaxnienke​

 “Just no teasing today, okay?” you said to your husband, standing in front of your open wardrobe and talking to him through the open bathroom door. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth filled with toothpaste foam. “I asked you not to tease our son in front of Dylan today, love,” you said softly, pulling a jumper you had picked out off a rack. George spat into the sink, “What do you mean ‘tease’?” he asked, puzzled, turning the tap on.

You put on your jumper and grabbed a hair elastic, then walked over to your master bathroom. You stood next to him in front of the great mirror and began to tie your hair up. “I mean that Dylan’s coming here as his friend and I want no interfering with Luke’s love life,” you looked into his eyes in the reflection, as he patted his face with a towel, to make sure the message’s coming through, “you know how it is with crushes at that age…” “Yeah, I know, I had one…” He walked over behind you to place his hands on your hips and plant a kiss to the back of your now exposed neck, “smart, pretty, always drove me wild” he smiled at you cheekily through the mirror.

You tsk-ed and turned around to face him, trying to fight a grin off of your face. “I’m serious, love. The tiniest embarrassments seem like the end of the world. He has enough on his plate, so no jokes, no suggestions, no funny looks – nothing that would put him on the spot,” you finished, putting up a finger in front of his face.

George studied your eyes for a second, “you have very little faith in me, darling,” he placed a gentle peck on the tip of your finger, “but alright. I promise.”

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Wow,” Dylan marvelled, after stepping into the main room and looking around the space, “This is brilliant, Mrs Weasley…”

They finally arrived after George and Luke set out together to pick him up and you’ve been waiting at home, occupying yourself with preparations.

You did take your Christmas decorating seriously. It wasn’t anything too over-the-top but the whole space was decorated with gentle garlands and some small decorations, illuminated by soft fairy lights. The main piece – Christmas tree, standing proudly by the window on the other side of the room.

You smiled widely, walking up to the boy.

“First of all, you can call me Y/N, I think you know me well enough. Secondly, it’s a group effort.” You said, meaning, of course, your whole family but giving very smug-looking George a look. “Welcome back, it’s been so long! But we’re so happy to have you,” you spread your arms wide to hug the boy.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” you asked excitedly and your son rolled his eyes in the back of the room.

   ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Oohh my goodness, why does it already smell so good…” groaned Ruby, leaning over the gingerbread dough as Vivian gave it a good poke.

You pulled the cookie cutters out of a drawer as Luke, Dylan and the twins took the stools by the kitchen island and then you poured them all out in front of the teens. You made yourself busy with rolling the dough as they each picked out their favourite shapes.

“George..?” you called out, not knowing where your husband was. You had talked to him ten minutes earlier and he knew you were about to start with the cookies, yet still, he hasn’t come to the kitchen.

No answer.

After a few more seconds of silence, you called out a bit louder, “George, darling..?”, getting ready to drop everything to look around the house for him.

“Coming, coming..!”, you heard from a corridor, then George appeared with a smile on his face and the sleeves of his festive jumper pulled up. You watched with your eyes a bit narrowed as he washed his hands.

“Where were you?” you asked curiously.

He pulled the rolling pin out of your hand and pushed you lightly with his hips to move you aside, “Talking to Jake,” he answered nonchalantly, resuming the work you had started.

 When you were done, and the cookies were sitting in the oven, he got around to placing all the gift boxes under the tree for the next morning. And instead of using the levitation or the locomotion charm he dramatically carried them by hand. Grunting and huffing, he glanced in your direction to make sure you saw him place an exceptionally huge package you haven’t seen before.

    ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 Later that day, after dinner, the whole house gathered around to decorate the cookies you had made earlier.

“Jacob..!” Vivian groaned as he grabbed a cookie off the tray and took a bite. “What? Stop being so tight and take a bite too…” he replied with his mouth full and on cue, Ruby appeared over his shoulder and swiped the rest off the cookie, which quickly disappeared inside her mouth as she high-fived her sister. “Daad!” Jake pleaded.

George looked between the three and sighed, trying not to laugh.

“See, dad knows I’m right, gobhead” Vivian teased before you came back with the rest of stuff needed for decorating. “All of you.” You said sternly setting things down on the island and sitting down.

The decorating passed alternately on playful banter in the warm atmosphere and in comfortable silence as everyone was working away, focusing on their tiny masterpieces.

Luke and Dylan spent especially long decorating a gingerbread man each, made to resemble the other, to exchange them later.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Ahh..” you relaxed, sitting down on the sofa next to George with a mug of hot chocolate in hand.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought his other hand with his own mug close to yours. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said with a relaxed smile on his face and you clinked delicately, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” you replied, then you melted into his side. The both of you were sipping your hot drinks contently, half-listening to the kids hanging out a bit further away.

“I really like Christmas,” George started in a low voice, only for you to hear. You hummed in agreement. “It all goes by so fast but in moments like these you can just sit back and look at all this,” he nodded his head, referring to your family. You turned your head, still resting on his shoulder, to look up at him. “I mean, we made most of these, remember?” he joked, pointing his head at the teens in front of you. You chuckled, “Eh, more or less…” you teased and he laughed at you. “I’ll let this one slide because you have a hot drink in hand.” “How gracious indeed. I knew I married right,” you brought your hand up to the side of his face and kissed his cheek.

You admired your little family for a moment. They were all growing up so fast. Jacob was your little baby just a moment ago, now he was bound to hit puberty any moment. Your beautiful girls, both apples of George’s eyes, growing to be strong, fierce women. They were almost the age you were when you first started dating George. Lucas and Dylan were almost adults now and you tried not to think about him moving out anytime soon. But you couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your heart when you glanced at their hands, fingers intertwined.

“But really,” you said after a moment, “when we were still dating, you were fresh out of Hogwarts and we were starting to get serious…” Your voice was soft and quiet as you went back to that time in your mind, getting a bit nostalgic. “I knew you’d be the one, and we started talking about future a bit more… I imagined the kind of life I wanted with you…” You looked back up at him to see him already looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes. “And it turned out exactly how I imagined it. Everything I dreamed of.”

George leaned down to softly press his lips onto yours and just like every other time, you felt as if you fell in love all over again.

“Yeah, I’d say we played it out alright.”

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Always (or Dani, the collector of souls falls in love and Miles keeps passing out during the entire story)

If you were, hypothetically, of course, to visit a place in England called Bly Manor, you would most likely meet an odd group of people. You would see two children, one an absolute angel, the other a teenage, snarky brat of a boy, who are probably being supervised by a stern, yet extremely capable looking woman. You would probably be shown around the house by the sweetest housekeeper in the world, probably be offered lemon cakes by a tall man who looks at the aforementioned housekeeper with all the stars in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe in the middle of it all, you might glance outside and see a woman standing by herself in the garden. At first you would think she’s just moving casually, maybe dancing on her own; and then you would see that her movement has a pattern. It almost seems as though.... no, it couldn’t be.  

“Is that woman,” you would ask, hesitantly, not wishing to offend these people and some potential strange ritual of theirs, “talking to herself?”

The housekeeper (Hannah, you think she’s called) glances outside and chuckles. “Oh, that,” she says. “That’s just Jamie. Jaime’s the gardener. She’s just talking to her girlfriend.”

You would resist the urge to rub at your eyes. “Her.... her girlfriend?”

“Well, technically Dani hasn’t asked her yet,” the cook cuts in, smiling. “But it’s on the way, I assure you.”

You would look from the strange, solitary woman, to their frank, open faces, and then back to the solitary woman again, and you would think.

You would think Why, these people are absolutely fucking bonkers.

*****

(They’re really not)

*****

The first time Jamie saw the woman, it was from across the grounds, which is why it took her crossing halfway the distance to realize that she was breakdancing.

Then again, she had also got other things on her mind. Peter Fucking Quint had to go and fall off the parapet while attempting to rob the Wingraves of their old jewelry the night before last, and between helping Hannah communicate with the police, ensuring Owen received an adequate number of head pats every hour to calm him down, and offering Rebecca a listening ear for both murderous rants and angry tears, she had her hands completely full. And that wasn’t even including the kids, although they seemed to be doing fairly alright. Thankfully they had not seen the body. However, that didn’t deter Miles, who was currently going through a bit of a Hannibal phase, from popping up at random intervals to ask her what broken bones looked like, or if the blood had frozen overnight.

All in all, pretty exhausting.

Which is why the sight of the children standing in front of a breakdancing woman didn’t register at first. She was pulling out the weeds, sun high in the sky, sweat tracing an uncomfortable path down her back when something made her look up. One double take, and she was scrambling in their direction.

She reached them, panting, raised her head after her breath was a little more even and looked right at the woman, who was currently doing the robot. “Um,” she started, unsure of where to go from there. “Are — are you quite alright?”

The woman stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open. “You can see me?”

Okay, this woman was clearly mental. “Yes?”

The woman looked even more astounded. “You really can?” she turned to Flora next. “You too?”

Flora blinked. “Yes, we can.”

“But that’s impossible! You shouldn’t be able to see me. In fact—”

“Jaime, darling,” Miles cut in the middle of what seemed to be the beginning of a rapidly delivered monologue. “Could you escort this.... clearly insane lady outside?”

Jaime thwack-ed the side of his head gently. “Wanna try that again? Nicely?”

He looked sheepish. Not really a bad kid, that one, she thought. Just annoying.

“But you really shouldn’t be able to see me. By all calculations, it’s completely—”

“Well, why not?” Miles asked, now having warmed to the idea of possibly talking to someone who was crazy.

The woman brightened up. “Well, because,” she said, “this, I guess.”

And then she snapped her fingers, disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the lake, where she waved at them excitedly.

Flora is the only one who waved back. Jamie was too busy supporting the weight of a now-collapsed Miles.

*****

Jamie thought it was patently unfair that the reaper of souls was just so damn cute.

(They weren’t supposed to be cute! They were supposed to look gaunt and hollow, and angry and sad, not like sunshine wrapped up in a very human looking package. They weren’t supposed to be walking around with bright, blue, gorgeous eyes, and faces that seemed to have been sculpted by some divine power up there, and a voice that was sweet and soothing enough to put Jamie right to sleep.)

“It’s amazing how all of you can see me,” the reaper of souls, or Dani, as she had introduced herself, said, looking wide-eyed at all of them. Rebecca and a recently awakened Miles were the only ones who looked actively concerned, standing in the corner. Owen and Hannah were, as ever, polite and pleasant, if a little curious. Flora was already settled in next to Dani, asking her questions a mile a minute. And Jamie was—

(Very fucking annoyed at how pretty Dani was)

—completely alright.

“And you’re here to get Peter?” Owen asked her, with a sideways look in Rebecca’s direction.

“Oh yes,” Dani replied. “And boy, was that man a pain. Really whiny. Went all Boohoo I can’t be dead, I’m supposed to do so many things, I’m so cool and awesome and. Ugh. Annoying is what he was. I mean, the list says Peter Quint — died while trying to steal from Bly Manor; what am I supposed to do?”

They all nodded, a little dazed.

“And then I saw the kids and I was bored and I thought they couldn’t see me anyways so,” she continued, and then looked down, suddenly a little shy. “I really am sorry about the.... you know, breakdancing. I honestly thought nobody could see me.”

“It’s okay, it was cute,” Jamie found herself saying before she had time to process, and then wanted to stab herself with the fork lying on the table. If that didn’t work, bang her head on the surface until she bled to death. Or—

“Thank you,” Dani said, equally as quiet.

Jamie closed her eyes, willed her body to fall dead right then and there.

(It didn't work, unfortunately)

“Would you like to stay for supper?” he heard Owen ask their guest.

“Supper?” Dani asked. “Wait, is it already that late?”

Jamie looked up a moment later, when she heard everybody scream and then she opened her eyes to see a stranger standing right near the stove.

“Viola!” Dani said, alarmed. “I thought I sent a message I was gonna be late.”

The woman looked very haughty, very angry and (this is something she hated to admit, again, but) very fucking hot. Seriously. What was with these underworld people and ridiculously angelic skin? Her gaze moved past all of them, came to rest on Dani.

“I got your message alright,” she announced, blithely. “Just couldn’t figure out why you were still here.”

Dani chuckled, nervously. “So, funny story, but as it turns out — these people can — uh, see us?”

Viola tilted her head, regarded her. “Are you sure?”

“Hello,” Hannah said, ever the gracious host. “Welcome to Bly Manor.”

Viola looked flabbergasted now, doing a double take to look at all of them more carefully.

“They can see us?”

Dani nodded, gingerly.

“Seriously?”

Another nod.

“But that can’t be—”

“—Viola, I know, but—”

“—it simply cannot be allowed—”

“—absolutely not I know what you’re thinki—”

“—We have to end them!”

There was another whoosh right next to Jamie’s ear, and she took her time, turning around, only to see another pissed-off, hot woman, standing in the kitchen, her arms crossed.

“I didn’t even say kill!” Viola protested.

“You implied it!”

Their standoff was interrupted by a violent, abrupt thud. It seemed Miles had fainted again.

*****

Jamie walked into the greenhouse, paused and smiled.

“You cannot surprise me,” she said, aloud.

There was movement behind her, and then Dani walked into view.

“How do you always know I’m here?”

Jamie stayed quiet. There wasn’t a good, less-embarrassing way to say The air dances when you’re around, or I can feel your presence in the back of my neck, in the way my heart starts skipping steps on whatever treadmill it is currently running on.  

“Let me keep my secrets,” she answered.

Dani stayed beside her, as she started on the rose plants, a safe distance away, safe enough for Jamie to not feel like she would combust. “I got you something.”

“You’ve already given me so many things,” Jamie told her, hand rubbing at the back of her neck. It was true. Every time Dani had dropped in the past month, she’d brought little trinkets from her travels all over the world.  

(Travels was an excellent way of describing the action of harvesting the grumpy souls of the dead)

One time there had been crepes from Paris, courtesy the tourist guide who passed of a heart attack in a café. Another time it was one of Cerberus’ treats, because Jamie was eternally curious as to what hell dogs actually ate. The bone had been framed and now lay on one of her shelves back at home. One day, she had gotten macarons that Owen had scarfed down before Dani could get around to telling him they were filled with the eternal cries of the dead.

(He’d spent the entire day walking around convinced he was going to die. The doctor said it was indigestion)

She opened the neatly wrapped box and picked up the pomegranate. Turned it around in her hand, examined it.

“Aren’t these supposed to tie me down to the Underworld forever?” she asked, only half-serious.

“Gosh, no,” Dani said, nervously chuckling. “These are not that kind.”

Jamie waited.

“Um, so these,” Dani went on, “these seeds are kind of multi-purpose things? So basically you can eat them, but these seeds, when planted, they can grow any plant in the world. Doesn’t matter what soil they’re on. I mean, I heard you mention that flower you’ve always wanted to grow, but England doesn’t have the climate suited to it and — well. This would work.”

If Jamie could speak, this is what she would have said: I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t know why you’re here, why you give me so much of your precious time, time that you could be walking around the whole world in. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around me, how to breathe, how to look, and I’m an utter godforsaken mess, but I’m eternally grateful you barged into our lives a while ago. I don’t know what I was doing before you came. I hope you never leave.

She would have said I know you collect souls, but there’s at least one heart lying in that bag of yours, and there’s a good chance it’s mine.

As it is, all she did was grab onto Dani’s hand, and squeeze.

*****

“You have got to stop doing that!” Owen gasped, hand on his heart.

Dani shrugged from on where she was now perched on top of the table, sitting directly in front of an open-mouthed Miles. “Hannah always knows when I’m here.”

“That’s because I really do have eyes everywhere,” Hannah turned around, smiled brightly at Dani. “Spaghetti?”

“I’ve been asking you for the past five minutes!” Jamie said, indignantly.

“Well, now we know who’s her favorite,” Dani shoots an infuriatingly smug grin in her direction, and pats the top of her head and—

Jamie would feel annoyed if her heart wasn’t racing and there wasn’t a blush fighting to make its way up her cheeks. This love thing was annoying.

(Not that it was love, of course. Certainly not)

“As charming as that sounds, Hannah darling,” Dani continued, “I actually came for a purpose.”

“Is it to set murderers on us again?”

“No, Miles,” Dani replied, patiently. “Plus, Viola and Perdita wouldn’t really have.... killed you. Maimed you, at best.”

Rebecca shuddered delicately on the other side of the table.

“Remember when you said you’d had a bit of a dinosaur phase when you were a kid?” Dani directed this towards Jamie.

“... yes?”

“Well,” Dani snapped her fingers, and to their extreme horror, a parrot sized creature appeared next to her, “meet Battery!”

“—completely house trained,” she heard Dani explaining to Hannah, while she extended a hand towards (what was he called? Right) Battery. He opened his mouth, stepped closer, licked the entire length of her finger with a long, slimy tongue, and then immediately nipped at her nail.

(Jamie may or may not be helplessly charmed)

Before she could say anything, however, Miles fell from his chair onto the kitchen floor.

Rebecca sighed, got up from her chair. “You guys know there’s going to be permanent brain damage if he keeps doing that.”

*****

About three things went wrong the day Jamie decided she was finally going to tell Dani she was in love with her.

The first thing was that she needed to get drunk, and decided to trust Owen and Hannah to deliver. The second was that Battery wasn’t adequately educated in the intricacies of human weirdness and tended to panic at the first sign of strange behavior. Third, lakes weren’t the most romantic places to confess your love, but apparently nobody had told Jamie this.

So when she found herself flailing for breath after having somehow made her way to the middle of the lake in a makeshift lifeboat and then having upturned it in the process, she only had herself to blame.

“What,” Dani started, looking absolutely furious, hair all over the place as she held Jamie up, “the fuck were you doing in the middle of the lake?”

“Hey!” Jamie sang, because the alcohol was making her feel very sing-song-y, “You shouldn’t be here yet! It’s not time!”

“Battery panicked and summoned me,” Dani explained. “Are — are you drunk?”

“No, she’s not!” Hannah called out from where she and Owen had just reached the lake. “We gave her loads of strong bitter soda and convinced her it was watered down whiskey.”

(Now that she was thinking about it, the whiskey had seemed pretty fizzy for her liking)

“Oh,” she Jamie, now sobered up. “But I was drowning.”

“Yeah, in about five feet of water.”

Well, that was anticlimactic.

*****

At midnight, she sat by the lake, covered in a warm, fuzzy blanket Dani had draped all over her. Dani sat beside her, Battery on her lap, smiling at her from time to time.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, out of nowhere, and Jamie didn’t have the heart to disagree. “What am I even going to do with you?”

“You could,” Jamie started, ponderously, like she hadn’t spent three months of her life thinking this over, like her heart wasn’t an over-excited ping-pong in her chest right now, “you could always take me out on a date, you know?”

“Really?” Dani murmured. “Well, that’s a novel idea.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Depends. Would you be okay dating someone who is almost constantly grumpy from carrying around beleaguered souls all day?”  

Jamie pretended to think. “I think so, yes.”

“Someone who regularly hangs out with a murder-friendly woman?”

“.... maybe?”

“How about someone who may have to keep going away for lengths of time?”

Jamie turned to her. “Would that someone come back to me, though?”

Dani’s eyes were shiny and hopeful, and she felt her breath get stuck in her throat like a lovesick little fool. “Always,” Dani whispered.

“Well, then,” Jamie whispered back to her, and then leaned in for the most picture-perfect happy ending of all time.

[no-whump-on-main]

Vampire Whump 2

Previous

After FOREVER and a half I finished this!! It actually only took two days to write but editing was a BITCH lol. anyways here is 5,000 words of creepy vampire man and cliffhangers

CWs for: Creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, stripping in a nonsexual sense, self-thoughts and descriptions of body size that could be triggering for those with EDs

     Annalise does not often find her Master in what could be described as a good mood. Most often, he is indifferent, if not annoyed with her for minor infractions, such as leaving her porridge untouched or reopening wounds he spent his own time carefully cleaning and closing. Today, however, when Annalise awakens to the sound of his footsteps padding down the stairs, she is shocked to discover cues that make him seem happy. He does not slam the door to her cell when he closes it behind him, and he does not reprimand her for sleeping so much or lacking alertness when he speaks to her. His body language, by all means, is cheerful.

     She does, however, notice something strange from her usual position of sitting in the far left corner of the cell with her knees tucked to her chest; he is carrying another item along with his usual oil lamp. It is a long piece of folded white silk. She wonders what the purpose of the fabric is, but remains silent, as she has not been told to speak. She does not speak often, as permission is rarely granted; after all, things like her have no need to speak. They are simply there to accept what is dealt to them and serve. 

     Master speaks to her, which is not unusual, but his genuinely kind tone of voice is. She snaps to attention, immediately disregarding her wandering thoughts to pay him her utmost regard.

     “Come here, darling,” he commands her, pointing to the ground in front of his feet. She immediately crawls to him before kneeling righteously with her back turned to him, assuming he is going to feed. She has slept and woke at least five times since the last time he ate; it was time.

    Instead of the anticipated sharp sting in her neck, she is met with a hard slap to the cheek from behind. The girl flinches and squeezes her dull blue eyes shut, but does not otherwise react. She wonders what she has done wrong.

     “Other way. Turn around.” His voice is still as kind as it was before, showing no harshness. He has not done this to harm her, only to correct her behavior.

     Ah, she had followed Master’s instructions improperly. Dimly, she wonders how she was meant to know he wanted her turned toward him without being told so, as she was always expected to face away from him since she did not deserve to gaze upon him. 

     The simple explanation is that she is just a stupid girl. She should have known, and the stinging in her cheek is a simple reminder of this.

     Obediently, she turns around, now kneeling and facing Master with her eyes averted downward. She knows she is not permitted to make eye contact with him under any circumstance, so to avoid the issue altogether, she keeps her gaze locked down whenever she faces him.

     “Good girl. Close your eyes and look forward.”

     Her heart skips as she is called a good girl, overjoyed to be called what she craved to be most in the world. Master’s instructions are strange, but she follows them faithfully, letting her eyelids fall shut before lifting her chin up from her chest to look ahead. She feels Master’s hands draw closer to her face, and for a moment, she braces herself to be struck again, but instead of pain, she feels the soft texture of silk brushing against her face, settling over her eyes as Master securely ties the ends together behind her head. She now realizes what the purpose of the strange fabric was; to be a blindfold.

     Annalise hasn’t been blindfolded in a very long time, and it makes her nervous. The last time Master drowned out her vision with a thick piece of cloth, he had muzzled her in succession then thrown her into her cage, leaving her alone in the basement to shiver without his guidance. She was given no opportunity to earn herself mercy with obedience; there was only cold metal and humiliation for days on end. She wonders if she is going to go back in the cage, and feels cool dread settle in her stomach at the thought. Master reserves the cage for when her behavior is truly atrocious, and she cannot remember acting out severely in any recent time. Behaving like this unknowingly is her greatest fear; after all, how could she fix her mistakes and prove herself worthy if she didn’t know what she did wrong?

     Her fear is thankfully relieved at least somewhat as Master bends over and scoops her up from the ground. One of his arms is supporting her torso from behind, while the other is tucked under her knees. She gasps quietly as they rise, shocked not only to be held, but lifted. Master had said nothing about a reward, and if he were going to punish her, he would drag her off rather than delicately lift her from the ground.

     As the vampire steps out of the cell and heads for the stairs, again being delicate with the door, he speaks softly to the confused girl huddled in his arms. “You may ask two questions if you’d like, Annalise.”

     Annalise’s head perks up, gleeful for the opportunity to speak as well as to clear some of her bewilderment with the situation. Master is being very generous, allowing her two questions. She pauses for a moment, wanting to make her questions worthwhile; she doesn’t want to waste her opportunity, after all. After pondering for a moment, her first question is the most obvious thing to ask, with her nerves of the unknown.

     “Where are we going?” She asks, her voice cracked and brittle from lack of use. The vampire quietly notes to himself that he’d have to fix that before his guests arrived. It sounded ugly. 

     “Upstairs,” He softly answers, offering no further explanation. Just upstairs. Not what room they would go to, or what they would do upstairs, or why he had now, after nearly two years, decided to take her up beyond the confines of the basement for the first time. 

     As if to confirm what he told her, he begins to ascend the steps, each second another moment closer to finally having his muse upstairs.

     This will change things, and he knows it. He may be calloused, but he knows that once he brings her into his home, he won’t want to leave her in the inky blackness of the basement again. He sees the way she shivers, how her bones sit so very close to her skin, and part of him thinks that with her perfect, practiced, and soon to be tested obedience, she deserves at the very least to be a housepet. Of course, he won’t let his emotions control his actions, and she must remain positively perfect as she is now to earn her place, but with her hard work, he does not doubt she could rise to the occasion.

     Annalise’s heart skips a beat as her Master ponders what is to become of the state of her existence. Upstairs? 

     She has no memories of the main level of her Master’s home, but she does know that it exists, and she believes that it is a grand place, much more spacious and welcoming than the cold abyss downstairs. She is overjoyed at the news, yet even more curious than she is ecstatic. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out her second question, poorly worded from her haste.

     “Why?”

     Master stops in his tracks as Annalise realizes her mistake. She begins to correct herself but quickly remembers that she has not been given open speech, only two questions, so she goes silent.

     “That is not a question, darling. I’ll be gracious and let you try again, but do not repeat that error. Understood?”

     Annalise quickly nods and states her question again. This time, it is properly worded. “Why are we going upstairs, Master?”

     The vampire begins to ascend again, and he can feel Annalise become less tense. He decides to be generous with his explanation.

     “We are going upstairs because I have decided it is time to introduce you to my peers, and I have planned somewhat of a dinner party, if you will, accordingly. We will discuss my expectations for your behavior through this once I get you ready.”

     Master falls quiet after that, leaving Annalise to stew in her shock. She hears another door open and can now feel Master walking along flat ground. She notices it is much warmer upstairs, delighting her greatly. She has not stopped shivering, but her usual quakes have become gentle flutters with the change in temperature.

     She is finally set down after Master walks through two more doors. She doesn’t know where he has taken her, but the scent is different in the room they settle in. The house smelled of aged cedar and iron before they went through the last door, but this room smells like myrrh and frankincense. It is rich and deep, radiating through all of the room’s air. 

      Annalise wonders how she knows the names of these smells. She cannot remember being taught them.

     The surface she sits upon now is hard and close to the source of the scents. She feels small droplets of water soak into the back of her nightgown as she settles with her hands folded in her lap. She understands after she feels the water; she is in a bathtub, in Master’s bathroom. The rich smells have to be that of his soaps and colognes. She thinks they must be very expensive given how strongly fragrant they are.

     She is still very confused on why she has been deemed worthy of coming upstairs, but she does not question Master’s decisions. He is wise. He knows what is best for her. He knows what she deserves. 

     Master does not let her sit in the tub and ponder for long. His instructions come soon after she is set down.

     “Remove your clothes, dear.”

     Annalise obeys without question but wonders what the purpose of the command is. Master has never required her to do such a thing before, and as she feels cool bathroom air hit her now exposed body, she wishes he hadn’t. She shudders, but remains silent and still, simply waiting for Master to instruct her further, or to do something himself.

     He then does something strange. He walks in front of her, makes something clink in the bottom of the tub by her feet, and turns a creaky handle.

     Then she feels warmth. Warm water is pouring over her feet. It reaches out and starts to lap at her legs, then steadily continues to move forward and rise, all the way up until it reaches her chest. She realizes then that she is taking a bath-that is why she was told to strip. This is what Master meant when he said he needed to make her presentable.

      Of course, she knew that people usually bathed when they were in bathtubs, but she never could have expected Master would deem her worthy of this luxury. She had originally thought that he just needed somewhere to put her down. It seems completely irrational for her to deserve something like this, yet here she is. 

     If this is a reward, it is Annalise’s new favorite. This is the first warm bath she can remember, and she is basking in it. She has been bathed before, of course, it has been far too long for her to have gone without a bath at all, but all of the baths she can remember up to this point were miserable experiences. They all went the same way; Master would come down with a bucket of ice water and dump it over her, usually while she was in the cage, with no warning, or even commands, then leave. He just let her shiver alone in silence until the air dried her off.

     She shudders. She does not like these memories.

     The sound of the water pouring heavily down into the porcelain tub is loud, loud enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear Master over it if he were trying to speak to her. Luckily, when it does stop, once the water is approaching the top of the deep tub, Master does not reprimand her for not listening, so he must not have tried to speak at all.

     He walks back over to her side, now, and pours something that smells sweet into the bathwater. She can’t place the exact scent, but it seems floral.

     “You may speak freely if you please. This includes questions.”

His voice is loud and booming, echoing in Annalise’s ears. Speak freely? She has not heard Master say that in a very, very long time. The last time she can remember is when he’d put her in the cage, and wanted to hear her every thought and plea.

     She doesn’t remember how long ago that was. 

     Master is being so very kind today. Though she does not understand his kindness, she will not be ungrateful. Her first free words are those of thanks, and her voice shakes with how quickly she is stumbling over her words as she leans back in the bath. 

     “Thank..T-Thank you, Master! Thank you master for b-believing I am worthy of being t-taken into your h-home and for the warm bath, it-it’s wonderful, oh-”

     “Silence, Annalise.”

     The girl’s mouth falls shut.

     “You do not ramble. You will not waste my time with rambling. Say what you need to in an efficient and eloquent manner.”

     The girl swallows a lump in her throat and nods.

“Good girl. Now, what were you saying?”

     “Thank you,” she replies softly, now. She is scared. Of being punished, or even just losing the privilege. 

     “You are very welcome,” Master tells her. He falls quiet. He’s waiting for her to speak.

     The bathroom is quiet for a moment before Annalise realizes this and speaks again.

     “Why am I blindfolded?” She asks. 

     She hopes Master will not take her question as her doubting his authority. She trusts that he knows best; she just wonders why this is best.

     “You’ve been in the dark for a long time, darling. Sudden light now will hurt your eyes. We’ll introduce it slowly.”

     The explanation makes sense, and Annalise nods. She wonders how she’s going to get used to the light slowly-light is light, isn’t it? Maybe he would use candles, lighting just one at a time. That could work, couldn’t it?

     The girl desperately wants to just fall silent and enjoy the fragrant warmth enveloping her, but she figures it would be rude to ignore Master when he had so graciously let her speak openly. She doesn’t know when the privilege will be revoked, so she should use it while she still can. The problem is that she finds she does not know what to say or ask. She has been silent for so long that she does not know what to say now, and she frowns until she finally resigns and tells Master, “...I don’t have anything else to say, Sir.”

     The vampire doesn’t seem to mind, letting her quietly relax back in the bathwater for a few minutes to soak. He decides to take this time to rifle through a medicine cabinet above the sink. He still needs something for her voice; he can’t have her sounding like a croaking toad in front of his friends. He scans many bottles until finally deciding on a simple jar of honey. Most of the medicines he has are far out of date, and he won’t risk getting her sick. She’s weaker when she’s ill, making it much more dangerous for her to be fed on. And with tonight’s plans, he needs her healthy.

     He takes the honey and a tablespoon for serving then brings it back to Annalise. Crouching over the side of the tub, he instructs her to open her mouth, before he feeds her the contents of the spoon. The girl seems surprised by the sweet liquid but doesn’t make any comments about it, and the vampire leaves her in peace for the remainder of the time that he has determined she needs to soak in the floral clarifying solution for.

     Once several minutes have passed, he begins to clean the girl. He does not inform her of what he’s doing, but simply soaks a sponge and silently lifts each of her limbs one by one, thoroughly cleansing them each individually before letting them fall back into the water. Her back and torso are next; they have suffered the worst of the abuse, and are both caked in filth and dried blood, requiring the vampire to soak and scrub them more diligently to fully clean them.

     It is a long process, but once he is satisfied that her body is clean, he moves on to her hair. It’s a long, matted mess, but the vampire seems determined to detangle it, not wanting to chop one bit off of the beautiful curls hidden underneath the mats. He takes good care of his things, after all; cutting things off of his possessions would be wildly inappropriate. Unless, of course, they had earned that treatment. Annalise had not.

     The vampire finally breaks the silence and speaks to Annalise, not wanting to startle the relaxed girl by suddenly dunking her underwater with no warning. 

     “Hold your breath for me, dear. I’m going to wet your hair,” he warns her smoothly.

     Annalise nods and braces herself to go beneath the surface of the water. She’d nearly drifted off while Master scrubbed her clean, and even now remains in a state of such relaxed bliss that she might as well be sleeping, hardly present with the world.

     She isn’t held under for any longer than a few seconds, just long enough to saturate her tangled hair and wash a bit of the dirt on her face away. Master soon leans her back up and she inhales deeply, her eyes still closed under the soaked blindfold as water drips from her hair. She hears master pick up another bottle, this one smelling distinctly of roses as he pours some out into his hands, then applies it to her hair. It must be shampoo, with the clean feeling it leaves as Master massages it into her scalp. She feels her spine tingle as his fingers rub her head and she sighs happily. She has been weary for so long; this comfort, though it is unfamiliar, is incredible.

     She is lost in her thoughts as Master rinses the shampoo from her hair, then begins to slather what has to be a whole bottle of conditioner onto the giant mats and tangles. He then spends so much time brushing through it, tiny section by tiny section, that the water goes cold by the time he’s done. Annalise can’t see it, but there’s a discarded pile of her hair that had been ripped out in the process by the vampire’s feet. 

     Just as she begins to grow weary of the long bath, the vampire finishes brushing out her hair and washes the excess conditioner from her hair, then unplugs the drain by her toes. The water’s level starts to slowly fall until it has all drained away. Annalise is bewildered by the feeling of her wet hair sticking to her back; she had no clue it was so very long. Before it was brushed out, the huge knots had kept it from scraping anywhere past the middle of her back, but now, she feels the ends brush down by her hips.

     She’s starting to shiver from the cool air surrounding her wet body, but Master soon saves her from the cold by wrapping her in a fluffy towel. He reaches into the tub and picks her up again after making sure the towel was secure, then walks off with her, but does not take her far. They only go through one door, and hardly travel any steps after it, before she is set down on a plush surface. Her hands instinctively fold in her lap. The ground beneath her is soft, fuzzy, even, like her blanket, and she realizes with delight that she has been set down on Master’s bed. She knows she is only going to sit here momentarily, but it is so very soft and nice, she wishes she could stay.

     Master’s footsteps start to recede away, then Annalise hears the sound of a match striking. He must be lighting candles. Was Master going to take off the blindfold now? She hoped so. She didn’t like things being so dark. Her eyes had adapted to see just enough down in the basement, but now, with the fabric and Master’s order to keep her eyes closed, everything is pitch black. It is frightening. She does not like it.

     Her hopes, for once, come true; Master returns to her, and with gentle hands, unties the wet silk and lets it fall into her lap. Even after the blindfold comes off, her eyes are still closed. Master had never said to open them after he told her to close them in her cell.

     “Open your eyes, Annalise,” she hears his voice boom, and she immediately obeys. Her gaze is respectfully focused down at the ground. All she can see are her own legs, the edge of the bed, and the dark hardwood floor below her. The room is very dim; there are small bursts of light coming from the candles visible in the corner of her eye, but they are so few that her eyes do not hurt even a bit. Master was careful with it. He is kind. 

     “Do they hurt, at all? Uncomfortable, even?”

Annalise shakes her head. She notes that the soft blanket she sits on is blue. It’s hard to see the color, but she’s able to make out that it’s a very dark blue. She likes the color.

     “Good,” he hums. He seems happy. That makes Annalise happy. 

     Annalise watches Master step away. He walks out of her field of vision, just for a moment, then returns. There’s a bundle of deep red fabric hung over his arm when he returns. It’s just as shiny as the material of the blindfold had been.

     “I went out and bought you a dress, just for tonight. What do you say, Annalise? You may speak. And chin up, dear, I want you to see it.”

     Annalise raises her head. She’s no longer looking at the ground, but straight ahead. She can’t see Master’s head, but she sees the gown he’s holding out in front of her. It’s simple, but she finds it beautiful. The dress is bright red and very long, the bottom brushing against the floor. It looks loose and flowy; there are several layers of stitched tulle atop a silk base, with long poet sleeves made of the tulle. 

     It’s gorgeous. Annalise is shocked into silence for a moment before she remembers Master's order and hurries to comply.

     “Thank you, Master. It-It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

     She wants to say more, to break down in thanks for the entire opportunity of being allowed upstairs in the first place, but she remembers his rule against rambling and quiets herself. From what she can see of his body language, Master seems pleased by her reaction.

“You’re very welcome. Get it on, then. I’ll help you zip the back. 

     Annalise carefully reaches out to take the dress, but Master pulls back and points to a set of undergarments set directly behind her. She delicately removes the towel from herself and slips them on, first, then reaches out again to take the dress from him. He lets her take it this time. His hands brush hers as they close around the fabric, and her heart flutters. She wishes he would hold her. He hasn’t in a long time, and she misses it. 

     She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to shake the thought from her mind. There isn’t time for distraction now. She’d been given an order. Carefully, Annalise slips the gown over her head. The fabric feels luxurious, expensive against her skin, and it makes her nervous. What if she damaged it? Master bought it just for her. If she ruined it, she’d be in such dire trouble. 

     It feels awkward and difficult to get the dress on while staying seated, but after a small struggle, her arms finally settle into the sleeves and she’s able to brush the skirt of the dress down over her legs. The dress fits her well, if not a little loose. There’s a bit of scrunched fabric still stuck beneath her, but it will settle next time Master lifts her.

     “Turn around,” He tells her once she has gotten into the dress. She obeys, pulling her legs all the way up onto the bed before flipping herself around completely. As soon as she’s turned, the vampire pulls the zipper on the dress from her lower back up to the nape of her neck. He grabs her hair and runs a few strands between his fingers, humming to himself as if he were indecisive. Finally, he lets it go, seemingly deciding to leave it be. He does, however, produce a small jar full of a sweet-smelling cream from his pocket. He rakes some of the substance through her hair with his fingers before splitting it in half and setting it over her shoulders.

    “Your hair looks nice down,” he hums. “Look at the curls. They’re beautiful.”

     Annalise doesn’t know if that was a real command or not, but she does look anyways, just to be safe. She wouldn’t risk disobedience.

    Her hair is an ashy brown. It’s quickly starting to dry and curl up. She doesn’t know what Master finds so particularly beautiful about it, it’s just hair, but she nods in agreement with his judgment. He is right, she just doesn’t know why.

     “Turn back to me. We’re almost done, dear. You’re nearly ready.”

     Annalise turns to face Master again, and she is soon taken back up in his arms. The vampire carries her over to a small vanity, gracefully pulling the small bench tucked beneath it out at a ninety-degree angle before setting her down on it, mindful to keep her dress in place now that it’s had the opportunity to fall into place behind her legs. He then does something peculiar; he kneels in front of her. Annalise finds it strange to see her Master kneel in front of her. Wasn’t that her job? Why would he kneel?

     She says nothing on the matter, but is acutely aware of her position. Master is right in front of her; if she looked up too soon, she’d make direct eye contact. Master had once called that the greatest form of disrespect a creature like her could show. This made the position incredibly unnerving. One wrong move, and-

     “Look up.”

     Annalise is shocked. She remains perfectly still, but her heart is pounding. Look up? But, but that would mean-

     “Are you disobeying me?” Master asks firmly after she fails to obey. She quickly shakes her head. She’s just shocked, and scared.

     With no other option, the girl lifts her head. Her eyes are still tilted downward, but she’s close enough to Master that it doesn’t matter. She sees him very clearly, more clearly than she ever has since she had acted defiant and refused to avert her gaze. His jaw is sharp and his chin pointed, skin pale and lips full with long orange hair falling pin straight down his shoulders.

     As soon as her chin comes up, Master begins to brush a powder all over her face. She’s not sure what exactly it is, but she knows it is some sort of makeup. Something liquidy is applied to her cheeks before master then dots something cool under her eyes.

     Master is working silently, for the most part, and efficiently. He tells her to close her eyes, then brushes yet another powder over her eyelids, and coats her lashes with something thick and sticky. She doesn’t like the sensation, but she is silent. It’s much more bearable when her eyes reopen, anyways. Finally, Master smears a gloss across her lips, then tells her he’s finished. He turns the bench back to face the vanity.

     The mirror catches her eye quickly. Annalise stares at herself in the reflection. Master is standing behind her, but she doesn’t see him, only herself. 

     The satin and tulle layers of her dress cover a tiny frame, so small even Annalise herself feels shocked despite not remembering a baseline for herself. Even under the makeup, she notices she looks exhausted. The huge bags under her eyes are only thinly veiled by concealer, and her cheeks are sunken and hollow. Her hair, though beautifully curled, looks dull.

     Annalise doesn’t remember what she is supposed to look like, but it is not this. She’s sure it’s not this.

     Master’s voice suddenly booms from behind her as a frown starts to form on her lips.

     “You look just beautiful, don’t you, darling?”

     Annalise nods, though really, she couldn’t agree any less.

     “Let’s get out into the parlor, then. The guests will arrive any minute now. It took longer than I expected to bathe you.”

     Master scoops her back into his arms, a very familiar action by now, and begins to walk toward the bedroom door. Before he opens it, though, he warns her, “It’s much brighter out there. Close your eyes if you must, dear.”

     Annalise nods. Master was right, it’s unbearably bright, and as soon as he opens the door, she has to squeeze her eyes shut. She is curious about what the house looks like, but her curiosity is not strong enough to incline her to burn her eyes with the light over. Master chuckles, almost seeming amused by her adverse reaction. 

     They walk for a long time, a much longer period than it took them to get to the bathroom from the basement. Finally, though, Annalise is set down on another plush surface, though this one is much firmer than the bed, and has a hard backing. Master soon sits beside her, so close she can feel the piece of furniture they sit on dip with his weight.

     “Are you ready, darling? You are permitted to speak,” He asks, his voice soothing and calm.

     “I think-I think so,” Annalise murmurs. She’s beginning to open her eyes in short blinks, but the light is still so bright she can’t see much of anything.

     “Good. Just remember, my love, there are expectations. You are to follow every rule you already have, and additionally, you are to do whatever my guests may ask of you unless I directly tell you otherwise. They are not your master, but they are in charge, and you follow their commands unless they are overridden by me. Disrespecting any of them or misbehaving in their presence will have severe consequences. I expect you to behave perfectly. Do not ruin any part of this night for me. Understood, dear?

     Annalise nods. She isn’t cold, but she’s shaking again.

     “Good. I expect you’ll have a most exciting evening, then.”

     Annalise doesn’t respond. There is silence, just for a moment.

     Then there is a sharp, repeated banging on the front door, just feet away from the pair. Annalise jumps at the sounf, but Master simply stands and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.

     “You’ll do great. I’m sure of it.”

     He leans down to whisper into her ear. His breath is hot on her neck, raising goosebumps all over her body. 

     “After all, you have plenty of motivation.”

     He walks off to answer the door.

tags: @quirkykayleetam @vamplolz

[stallingdemons]

Against All Odds

Requested Who: Tom Holland Song: Perfect by Ed Sheeran 

Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three

A/N: I am SO sorry that part three took a fucking year....I had it in my drafts for the longest fucking time because I have that perfectionist mentality and have to re-write it a million to one times. But, it’s been long enough and this is probably the most popular one I have going on my page. 

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was, I will not give you up this time. But, darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own. And in your eyes you’re holding mine.

We are still kids, but we’re so in love. Fighting against all odds. I know we’ll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand. Be my girl, I’ll be your man.

Two seconds. 

It had taken Tom only two seconds to decide. 

Two seconds to drop the dirty pan back into the sink after Harry had read a tabloid article stating that [Y/N] and [B/F/N] had broken up. 

In less than a few minutes, Tom was out the door, running the five miles to [Y/N]’s house. Had Tom not been so concerned with how [Y/N] was feeling, it would have complimented his record timing in reaching her house. But, that was the least of his concern. 

He stood in the piss pouring rain at [Y/N]’s door step. Knocking twice, Tom struggled to figure out what he would say to her. Instead of having the girl he loved with every inch of his being meeting him at the door, it was her mother instead. 

“Goodness gracious,” [Y/N]’s mother exclaimed, “Thomas Holland, what in the world are you doing?! You’re going to catch a cold, honey.” She shook her head at the young man sopping wet from the night’s weather.

Pressing his lips together, he ran a hand through his damp hair. Not really caring if he caught a cold or not. “Um, I, uh, is, is [Y/N] home?”

Sighing, [Y/N]’s mother leaned against the door frame. She had always been a fan of Tom even if he had broken her daughter’s heart. She knew Tom had meant well and she couldn’t hold it against him. She had been a young actress once and she understood the demands the life asked.

 “She’s in the backyard, cooped up in that old tree-house...I’ve tried coaxing her out but...” 

Stepping backwards off the porch, he motioned towards the side of the house. “May I?”  

Crossing her arms, she shrugged. “If it were anyone else, I would say no. But, if anyone is going to make her feel better, it’ll be you.” Nodding, she moved away from the door frame and unhooked her husband’s rain jacket and tossed it to Tom. “Put this on, you’ll catch your death out here.” 

Tom smiled, “Thank you, Mrs. [L/N].” 

Just before he was about to book it around the house, she called out. “Tom!”

Whipping his head around, “Yes?” 

Giving him a sweet but stern look, she spoke softly. “Don’t hurt her again, you hear me, young man?” 

Grinning softly, he looked down at the wet grass and then back up at [Y/N]’s mother. Saluting, “Yes m’am.” After she chuckled and nodded him to go on, he ran off towards the backyard. Hopping the fence, he slowly approached the tree-house. The very old tree-house that he swore was there before they were even born. The boards were rotting and the steps looks looked like it was seconds from falling apart. Gripping the rain jacket in his hand, he threw it up over his shoulder and started to climb the rickety steps. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and hoisted himself up. 

[Y/N]’s head snapped up, squinting her eyes, she sniffled. “Tom?” Wiping away tears, her brows knitted together, “What are you doing here?” 

After his eyes adjusted to the darkened room, he frowned at what he saw. [Y/N] was soaking wet, her knees pulled to her chest and her back against the wall. Her hair was dripping and her pearly white night dress was sticking to her body. To some, she might have looked a mess but to Tom, she was always beautiful. 

Crouching down in front of her, his heart broke at the sound of her voice. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m not.” She whispered. 

Biting his lip, he pulled the rain coat from his shoulder and wrapped it around her. “I know, love.” Not even thinking twice, he puled her into his arms. Scooting around her, he leaned against the wall and pulled her into him. Stroking her damp hair, he murmured again, “I know.” 

Gripping his arm, she started to cry again. “Is there something wrong with me?” 

“What? God, no. [Y/N].” Tom breathed. Using his free hand, he lifted her chin to force her to look at him in the eyes. “Look at me, [Y/N]. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.” 

Whimpering, “Then why does everyone leave me?” 

He thought for a minute before he answered. Letting her chin go, he frowned. “Because we’re idiots.” Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, he sighed. “I never should have broken up with you, [Y/N]. I just wanted you to find someone who’d make you their top priority, it just never occurred to me that they could have the potential to possibly hurt you too. I hate myself for letting you go, love. I really, truly do. I’ve never known that kind of pain before. I didn’t even know it existed until I watched you with that idiot. But, I had to put my own happiness aside because you looked so happy with him. I couldn’t just destroy it by telling you I still loved you.” 

[Y/N] whimpered, “But I still loved you then, Tom. You could have just spared me this heartache by manning up to your feelings.” Pulling away from him, she stared at him with watery eyes, “Just when I was finally getting over you, he goes and breaks up with me.” 

Cupping her face, Tom frowned. “I promise no one will ever hurt you again.” 

Placing her hands over his, she frowned too. “How can you be so sure?” 

He gave a gentle smile, “Because I swear to you that if you let me make up for my mistakes,” Tom’s thumb rubbed away her tears, “you will never cry hurt tears again.” Leaning closer to where their lips almost touched, Tom sighed. “I love you, [Y/N]. I always will. Nothing will ever change that. We were kids when we fell in love, hell, we’re still kids. But, we will do this right. I won’t ever let you go again. And if years from now, you decide that you’ve had enough of me, I’ll let you go because at least I can say that I’ve done my part in making you happy.” 

Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three