#did she not think that maybe the appropriate response was to ASK if we were going to eat any?

[the-potato-beeper]

my mom threw out our pie because "no one was eating it" >:( I KEPT FORGETTING TO HAVE SOME THESE PAST TWO DAYS AND I WAS RELALY LOOKING FORWARD TO IT

[earthtooz]

earth do you have any spare alhaitham thoughts 🥺 thinking ab him a little extra hard tonight 😵

nothing but fluff, reader and al-haitham are engaged, so much banter.

"What do you think about inviting Nahida to our wedding?"

Al-Haitham looks at you incredulously, blinking slowly to register your question. You know a lengthy discussion is imminent when he uncrosses his leg, a habit of his whenever he needs to prepare for a conversation that requires most of his attention.

"You don't mean Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you?" He asks and you nod, as if it is typical to invite a god to one's wedding. "Dear, do you understand what you are asking right now?"

"I do," you sit down beside him, Zaytun peach in one hand and a small knife in the other, cutting up slices that you feed him.

"Then do you realise how ludicrous your question is?"

"I think you are overcomplicating it."

His book snaps shut. "Am I? Or is it appropriate because you just suggested inviting an archon to our very ordinary wedding?"

"You still think you're ordinary after overthrowing a corrupt government and being promoted by said archon?"

"You're crazy," Al-Haitham murmurs, shaking his head with an affectionate smile, one that he always likes to conceal by pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You poke his side gently. "Then we are cut from the same cloth."

"That does not diminish your madness."

Still, you persist. "Well, you haven't said anything in response to my suggestion."

"I called you crazy."

"You haven't said anything I want to hear."

Once again, he sighs, but the noise is too airy to hold any true malice. "Even if I reject your idea, you would personally go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana and deliver the invite yourself."

Instead of answering, you merely feed him another slice of the Zaytun peach, smile growing more and more mischievous.

There is a reason Al-Haitham wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The bouts of delightful juvenility paints endless blotches of colour on his plain canvas, carving a certain feeling of warmth and admiration in his chest that no one else has managed to recreate.

No one compares to you, and he's certain no one ever will because even after all these years of knowing and loving you, every moment he spends with you is as priceless as divine knowledge. Even when you ask ridiculous questions that perplex him greatly.

"How do you even deliver messages to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?" You wonder.

A kiss to your temple halts your thinking. "Let's find out another time. How did this idea of inviting Nahida spring about?"

You shrug. "I was merely thinking back. She's always been so thoughtful and kind to her subjects, even when the Akademiya hid her from us. Then the idea of inviting her made itself quite at home."

"I see," he hums. "Ever so thoughtful."

"Maybe it's a good omen for our partnership to invite an archon. She won't have to bring a present, her presence alone is enough."

Al-Haitham huffs. "My faith in our relationship exceeds that of a good omen, but I agree."

"Aww, you love me that much?"

"Do you still doubt me?"

"Still?" You parrot. "Darling, I've never doubted you."

"I'd like to contest that. Remember when you were vehemently against me resigning as the Acting Grand Sage?"

You feed him another slice. "It gave me bragging rights! Who else could claim that their hot boyfriend-now-fiancé was the Grand Sage?"

"So you prefer when I'm away at the Akademiya working tirelessly from dawn to dusk?"

"Well, no," you set the knife and pit of the peach down before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing yourself close to him. "I prefer having you all to myself."

Al-Haitham huffs triumphantly and you stay pressed close to him for a while, watching as he returns to his novel. He flips back to his exact page despite the lack of a bookmark.

"I'll be sure to send the invite to Nahida tomorrow."

"Alright."

Two days later, you wake to a message written in beautifully precise handwriting on Al-Haitham's blackboard.

'Can Wanderer be invited too? - Nahida'

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[mionemymind]

Don't Say Something Stupid

Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)

Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?

A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix

Word Count: 662

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”

Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”

“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed. 

“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”

Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place. 

“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room. 

And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid. 

“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.” 

“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”

While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?” 

“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.

“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed. 

“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.

“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”

Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through. 

Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.

Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”

Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me 

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha 

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff 

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa

@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)

[queenimmadolla]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You surprise Eddie with your baby's first trick-or-treat costume. Spoiler alert: she's adorable.

a/n: for maisie 🩷

more penny and Eddie here

“I’m waitiiiiiiiiing.” Eddie sang out from the couch, tugging at the neck of the cream colored turtleneck you’d guilted him into wearing. It wasn’t as bad as the sweater he had to wear with it. Truly the ugliest thing he had ever seen. 

  It was so ugly, it offended him and he was a little grumpy about it, which you teased was appropriate considering he was supposed to be dressed as Bert from Sesame Street. 

  Yeah. Sesame Street. 

  The (totally) gay puppets.

“You’ll have to get close.” Eddie had threatened when you pulled out eyeliner, not to line his eyes like you did before one of his shows or a date night, but to link his brows together in the most unrealistic looking unibrow ever. 

  Once upon a time, up until like two Halloweens ago, Eddie had used this day to be completely and thoroughly chaotic. Messy. Well, as messy as the social pariah could be on Halloween. So just really drunk, maybe high—sometimes both—making out with someone who wouldn’t acknowledge his existence the following day (and he was very grateful for you for breaking the curse on that last carefree Halloween). But that was the old Eddie Munson.

  Gone was the Eddie Munson that either went all out–in leather, eyeliner and fake blood–or barely tried with some devil horns and a bad sense of humor for halloween to deal weed and drugs, smoke weed and drink til he threw up, or get fucked. Granted, he wasn’t going through this change alone. 

  Your opportunities to party on Halloween night with your friends–having all gotten ready together for the big, slutty night out–drinking ‘til you were stupid only to wake up on your bedroom floor (sometimes not even yours and on one year, the top of your neighbor’s car) with no real repercussions were no more.

  Your days as primarily careless teenagers and now young adult were over, replaced with enjoying the night in a way you were both surprised to find that you didn’t hate, even as early twentysomethings. 

  Hell, the both of you were eager–even if Eddie had to wear a lame costume. He’d wanted to be Ernie, at least.

  “Shut up!” You called back from the bedroom. Eddie snickered at the amusement hidden under your voice and shifted until he was lounging on his side, arm propped up with his hand.

  “Still waitiiiiiiiing!”

  You’d been hiding a certain costume from him for the past three weeks, and the anticipation was killing him.

  “You are the most impatient man I have ever met.” 

  “I just gotta have you, baby.” Came his immediate response and his grin widened when he realized he didn’t even have to think up replies for your quips, it just came natural now. He knew you that well. Still made him giddy and want to kick his feet in the air.

  He loved being married to you. Sue him.

  “Okay, here we come!” You announced and Eddie scrambled to sit up straight, eagerly leaning forward to get an early peak. 

  You walked down the short hall, dressed in a striped sweatshirt, jeans with the bottoms rolled into cuffs and a pair of red converse. Ernie. But Eddie already knew what your costume was, it was a couple’s costume and you were indeed a couple. 

  It was who you were glancing back at, just out of his line of sight, that held his curiosity. 

  “C’mon, baby. Go show daddy!”

  At your prompting, your baby–just a couple of months over a year old–came waddling out, footsteps awkward as she got used to the orange duck feet covering her own and the padding and stuffing of her yellow duck costume, clutching a bottle you’d given her to keep her from fussing while you got her dressed. Her curly little head and chunky cheeks were framed in the hood of the costume, with the duck’s  head resting on hers.

  “Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked, mouth dropping open as his eyes darted from his cute little spawn in her adorable costume to your smug expression and back, “Are you joking? OH MY GOD!”

  Eddie reached his arms out to Penny, fingers curling into his fists as he made grabby hands, “You are so precious, my little baby, come to daddy!”

  Penny was delighted with his praise, drooly mouth dropping open and big brown eyes sparkling as she rushed forward. Her lack of coordinated motor skills paired with the duck feet and the padding of her duck bottom throwing her equilibrium off meant she immediately lost her balance and you and Eddie both inhaled sharply, quickly rising to attention as she wobbled forward briefly, then fell back on her cushioned tail feathers.

  It was far from a dangerous fall, so you and Eddie stood frozen, waiting for her response so as to not sway her to have a certain response, having taken her to the doctor’s after a fall once only to learn she was perfectly fine and had only started crying because you had. 

  You both learned real quick to wait for her response after falling, sometimes she cried and had a boo boo that Daddy and Mommy could fix with some first aid and a kiss, and other times she'd run right into the wall, get up, and walk away (albeit while muttering in angry baby gibberish).

  Penny blinked once, eyes flying from your face to her dad’s before she wiggled her bum against the floor, set her bottle down next to her and tried to stand up. 

  You both let out matching sighs of relief before Eddie darted forward to scoop her up.

  “Are you rubber ducky?” Eddie asked once he had her situated in his arms. All she did was give him that big, beautiful smile of hers (no longer gummy with the teeth she had coming in but thinking about that made Eddie teary eyed) before her attention strayed to his long curls and her chunky little fist flew out to grab some of it, staring it down before she put it in her mouth.

  “Say, yes, baby.” You encouraged her after picking up her bottle, hand tucking in one of her curls peaking out.

  “Yesh.” She parroted, mouthing aggressively at the hair in her fist. While she was distracted, Eddie took the opportunity to press kisses into her cheek, smothering her in them until she grew annoyed and snapped her head in his direction, mouth wide in protest.

  “Sor-ry!” He huffed, still grinning as he pressed another one into her soft cheek. She was all talk  and no bite. Mostly.

  “What does the duck say, baby?” You asked, trying to prompt her. She could do some of the animal sounds and she’d gotten the duck right a few times.

  “Moooo.” And sometimes she moo’d.

  “That is one interesting duck.” Eddie commented and you shushed him.

  “No, baby. Quack.”

  “Cack.”

  Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Okay, that’s a little too close to–we’ll stick with moo.”

  You grabbed her trick-or-treat bag, a disposable camera and a couple of other things you thought you might need to take her trick-or-treating for the first time, while Eddie continued to coddle her, only putting her down when you were all ready to go. 

  Penny was little miss independent until she caught sight of the steps outside of the trailer. Then she whimpered, dropped her bottle and turned to Eddie, shoving herself at his legs as she reached her little arms up to him.

  “Up! UP! Up!”

  It was mean of him, really it was, because Penny was genuinely afraid of the steps but that also meant she demanded her daddy hold her in his arms, and that wasn’t really a loss for him so he hoped she’d hang onto that fear for a while before she got inventive and found another way to climb down them without him.

  Eddie picked her up and she curled into his chest, chin on his shoulder as she clung to him with the duck head on her hood hitting the side of his face. He was trying to hide his smile but it was much too large to conceal and you glared at him with no malice, more amused with Eddie than anything.

  “It’s okay, sweetpea. Daddy will protect you from those big, mean steps.”

  He cackled as you shook your head with a smile. 

  “You are so messed up, capitalizing off of her fear.”

  “Hey–it’s easy for you, she still demands and needs your boob. Did you see her refuse my kisses in there? I’m fighting for her affection here. And I’m gonna keep doing it, as soon as she gets over her fear of steps, I’m telling her a monster lives underneath them. Now, let's go get some candy I’ll also eat on her behalf.”

  He bounded cheerfully out the door, Penny bouncing in his arms while you locked up behind him and called out in your laughter.

  “And using your baby for candy–oh, you’ve got to choke tonight. I’ll save you, but you’ve got to choke.”

  Eddie paused, waiting for you to catch up as his lips curled into smirk in a very Grinch like manner and you groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you realized what he was implying without having to verbalize it. 

  “I mean, I’d be happy to arrange that–”

  “Keep walking, Bert. We only have an hour and a half so we’d better get a move on if you want a decent amount of candy to steal from your own baby.”

  “I’m not above taking candy from any baby.” He confirmed leaning down just as you leaned up to meet in a kiss, the both of you smiling into it. It was brief, ending when Penny accidentally pecked the both of you with the head of her costume.

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/6

(Side note, but don't yall think it's funny that the day I said we would get news abt Seunghan that we literally got news abt Seunghan 🤣🤣)

Seunghan Today:

The Wheel + The Hyerophant

He is still in that same energy of accepting what is about to come. There is good luck on his side, and despite not having complete stability he feels stable. He feels good about where things are going. And he is in a good mood.

What is he doing today?

Queen of Chalices + 7 of Swords + 2 of Pentacles

This is serioussssllyyyy sussy. About what I said about waiting around for an answer with a plan? This is it. The 7 of Swords indicates something fishy is afoot here....he is sneaking around doing something?? It seems to relate to the 2 of Pents rather than the Queen. Meaning he is being sneaky regarding a decision' or regarding juggling/weighing some options. I think this pertains to this plan I spoke of previously. With yhe queen the energy is that he is self consoling or being consoled and calmed by another person- or someone is helping him with or through this ongoing event in general.

So sus.

How did the meeting go yesterday?

8 of Wands + 3 of Chalices + the Stars

This is a good omen, the 3 of chalices reminds me of the 3 of pents we pulled for the meeting check in outcome yesterday. Very collaborative and positive vibes, it's a feeling that brings people together for enjoyment. The 8 of wands indicates some rapid movement happening as an effect. If we look at everything in sequence, there is a consensus that rapid movement is under way to celebrate something people have been hoping to hear, to bring it into the physical realm/reality. So this is a very good omen for our cause.

Has the official decision been made?

8 of Chalices + 9 of Wands

I would say yes, it has. There seems to have been a shift in perception for a lot of people who maybe had different conflicting views on the matter of Seunghan's return. As these things were addressed, a change occurred and many disillusioned people saw the light. I think a huge highlight was the protection of artists. With the 9 of wands, we are seeing boundaries being upheld. There is a huge shift in what SM finds appropriate fan behavior- and they are starting to realize what heinous acts they have dismissed as normal reaction up until this point when they are actually harrassment.

Will the Public recieve an answer today?

2 of Swords

Maybe. There is a strategy being thought of in which they are not certain, which will lead to the best outcome. But it looks like they will be weighing them out with their eyes closed, or honestly, pick out the two fave choices and flip a coin. They may make a gamble here. But personally I think no answer today.

When will we get an answer?

2 of Chalices

This bot only indicates the answer may be very good and maybe made in a way that pleases people, but the number 2 pops out. The number 2 also popped out for the 2 of swords....👀👀👀 AND if you remember yesterday's shareholder meeting read- the number 3 for 3 days popped out.....so it may be in 2 days now. But could be 2 hours (i hope). I don't think 2 weeks or months is appropriate.

The "woman" Supporter

A few of yall were asking if this lady:

Was the one on Seunghan's side. I pulled a few cards for this

4 of Chalices + High Priestess

It appears as though she may be involved, but she is not a blind follower or lover of Seunghan's reinstatement. It appears she is thinking about things very logically from her business and role's perspective. So, rather than being a blind advocate, she offered evidence that supported Seunghan's reinstatement.

What exactly did she do?

2 of Swords

Very interestly, it seems she may be responsible for the "plan" we have been speaking about, especially because her roles deal with the global market. I think she has something to do with the ideas and implementations of this plan or how to proceed from here.

No notes today but I hope all of yall over 18 in the states voted today 😠

[witchofthesouls]

More Dad! Megatron but this time with some heavy angst.

As kids, I think we can all agree that we stumbled upon something our parents didn’t want us seeing/knowing about but did anyway no matter how careful they were.

Maybe one night, when she was supposed to be alseep, Megatron’s kid (who is young at the time like 6-10) sneaks out of bed for some reason or another and sees her dad doing something very bad and it scares her so much that she runs as quietly and quickly as she can back to her room and pretends to be asleep. The next day she is distant and fearful of her father, actively avoiding him.

Maybe Megatron knows she saw him that night or maybe he has to piece it together when she suddenly becomes distant and skittish with him afterwards but either way, their relationship probably won’t ever be the same.

Megatron knew exactly what his daughter had witnessed when she refused to meet his gaze, making herself small and quiet, even in her root-mode.

At first, he was going to leave it alone and just wait for her mother to return, but Soundwave had cornered Megatron because she had been tentatively asking the Cassettes not-so-innocent questions.

Megatron has no idea how to handle this. None of the parenting datapads and books had a chapter dedicated to navigating what to say to your traumatized child when she finds her creators in throes of rough passion and hard kinky role play.

He defers to his usual tactic: straight to the throat.

"Treasure," Megatron says and frowns when his daughter refuses to look up, field tamped down. "Look at me."

Never will he say it, but his spark breaks a bit when he sees the tears gathered in those optics, mouth quivering as her plating is closed off.

"I'm sure you have questions about what you've seen between your carrier and myself."

There's a loud sniffle, and Megatron wipes away those tears, fetching a spare rag from his subspace, coaxing her to blow her nose. Thankfully, she does, and he sets the wet rag aside.

"Adults," he begins, trying to formulate an age-appropriate response, "enjoy playing adult games. And those games can be very rough."

"Mommy said to stop..." And his spark really does break at her tone, confused and afraid at the sight of her sire dominating her fragile carrier in an extremely unkind way.

"Your carrier and I were playing pretend. You like pretending with your dolls, yes? It's like that. Because it's pretend, we have a secret code that really means stop."

She looks less tearful and more curious at that point, her field cautiously mingling into his as she begins to relax.

Mission accomplished.

"Do you have any questions?"

"What's a fleshlight?"

At that very moment, Megatron desperately wishes for a surprise Autobot attack.

(Surprisingly, the universe answers it.)

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 12

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* References to menstruation, heavy flirting, talk of blood drinking, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: A budding friendship with your young mother gives you plenty of things to think over, but it's your relationship with Max that is growing the most. Notes: We are name dropping Gilded Age families and embracing our newfound historical fiction genre, folx! Please enjoy a photo of Dolly's teahouse as it exists today in 2023 as your weekly photo ❤ Apologies for any errors that I might have missed. I am a very sleepy girl after a week of seasonal chaos at work.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

If yesterday's adventure to the dressmaker showed you anything, it was that the simple act of dressing and undressing in this time was going to be an adventure. Snagging a newspaper from a hollering newsboy on the street corner had told you that you were in 1885, and now – on your second day in October 1885 – the reality is setting in. Renee came upstairs to you after lunch to help you change in a walking dress, and while you didn't protest it did seem extremely unnecessary until you remembered that yesterday the skirts of your dress had dragged through the dirt for three blocks in downtown Newport. A walking dress, apparently, has a shorter skirt and no train. Which means no dragging in the dirt while you walk. And suddenly the seemingly ridiculous amounts of times that Gilded Age ladies changed their clothing during the day begins to make more sense: simply changing the outer shell of your outfit makes it 'suitable' for many different activities. It's still a little ridiculous, but less so than you had thought only yesterday.

"Renee, would you make sure that Mrs. Phillips is still available for our walk?" Annie asks as the maid helps her tie the laces in her stays before she slides the skirt over her head. She's been looking forward to this walk since yesterday, hoping to have some time to speak to another woman closer to her age that is not her mother about the budding relationship with Emmanuel. A newly made bride would understand, especially since they eloped.

“Of course, miss.” Renee helps Annie into the bodice that matches the skirt she has just put on, carefully looking each button in the back to ensure her mistress is comfortably and appropriately attired. She can leave Miss Annie to choose her own hat and jewelry as she wishes and curtsies politely before going upstairs.

******

“So…nice little outing planned with Annie.” Max ventures as he watches you carefully arrange your hair like Renee had shown you. You’re beautiful and it seems like this time only magnifies that. Or maybe it’s because there’s fewer distractions around him. “Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.” Frowning heavily at the mirror as you try to get this hairdo right, you glance up and to the side where Max is sitting a few feet away watching you. “I haven’t spent time alone with my mother since I was eighteen. And this…she is that person but isn’t that person at the same time. At this point I’m just thrilled we’re only walking the grounds and not in town.” Even though the grounds of Chateau-sur-Mer are much larger in this time, it’s still a relief. These are safe, secluded acres. The only people you’ll run into are your grandparents or their staff.

“Remember that even if she’s not the mother you knew, she’s the woman that will become your mother. It will be an interesting comparison.” Max offers.

“You know how much she loved the curried lamb we had for dinner last night?” The spectacular crown roast that Mrs. Taylor had presented was slightly different in looks than the roasted legs of the same animal that your mother had done when you were a kid, but the taste was deliciously nostalgic. “That was her recipe. That I remembered from being a kid.”

“That’s something of a paradox.” Max snorts. “You bring back the favored family recipe and in turn, it’s passed down to you.” You were right, time travel is weird.

“Time travel is bizarre.” You whisper, barely speaking for being aware of the possibility of being overheard.

“You’re telling me.” Max snorts, shuffling behind you and putting his cool hands on your shoulders. “I have some business with 'John'.” He tells you with a wry grin. “But I will be back soon and want to hear everything about your walk.”

“It’s so weird.” A small smirk tucks into the corner of your mouth. “I know neither of us has ever called him his real name, but calling him John just feels weird.”

“It’s like Rumpelstiltskin.” He jokes, finding the comparison hilarious.

“Maybe he is Rumplestiltskin,” you joke, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles just before a knock is heard at the door.

Renee waits for a moment before she enters the room. “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, I hope your night was restful.” She nods respectfully and looks towards where you are sitting. “Miss Annie was inquiring if you were still free for the walk, Ma’am?”

“Of course, Renee.” You stand from sitting beside Max and smile, reassuring yourself that you can do this without punching a hole in the space-time continuum. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I will let Miss Annie know.” She nods politely and then turns around to exit the room just as quietly as she had entered.

“Thank you, Renee.” Blowing out a breath, you lean over to kiss Max and flash him a thumbs up that is far more forced than anything else. “Here goes nothing.”

“You will have an amazing time.” He predicts softly. “Knock ‘em dead, Tiger.”

“What happened to my little ketchup packet?” You tease, kissing him one more time before opening the bedroom door. “We’ll be around the grounds if you need us.”

“Enjoy your time, my dear.” In reality, Max would love to be there with you, but he knows you need this time alone with the one who would one day give birth to you. He watches your skirts swish down the hallways and he grins as he remembers dancing with you last night after dinner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Annie is repining her hat in place in a mirror, and you stop for a moment of peace to just admire your mother. Always beautiful and always extraordinarily competent, she even manages elegant self-sufficiency in the face of a society that tells her to sit down and keep her mouth shut. It’s hard to watch her being so happy with Emmanuel when you know what’s to come, but you had bitten your tongue last night while she talked about him at dinner and you’ll bite your tongue today too. Seeing her happy again, even for a little while, is enough.

“I find myself positively - what was the phrase Mr. Phillips used last nigh? ‘Raring to go’ this afternoon.” She seems quite pleased with her use of the phrase and takes one last look before she turns away from the mirror towards you. “Oh dear, did the modiste not have a hat for you yesterday?”

“I admit, I did not know which hats would be best, so I didn’t choose any.” This is probably a huge faux pas but you know less than nothing about late 19th century hats anyway. It seemed easier just to skip it. Max, on the other hand, had acquired both a top hat and a bowler with glee.

“Renee.” Annie calls out to the maid. “Please fetch my brown crushed velvet with the flowers?” She asks. “And the pins to secure it. I think that would look stunning with your dress.”

Renee is off like a shot before you can protest, and back again with hat and pins on hand just seconds later. It’s astonishing how fast the vampires in this household can move when they’re not trying to disguise their nature.

“Yes, I thought the flowers would match.” The pale pink and white of your walking dress match the flowers and the color of the brown velvet compliments your skin beautifully. “It will be perfect.”

“I bow to your superior taste.” And since it’s about the six hundredth time in your entire life that your mother has insisted that you put on a hat before going out the door, you don’t protest. All those other times had been talking about winter hats keeping you warm, but it’s the spirit of the thing. “You’re very generous.”

Once the pins are set and Annie has adjusted to her liking, she clicks her tongue. “You must keep it. My gift to you. It looks so much better on you than it does on me.”

“As I said. Generous.” She has always been generous, as along as you’ve known her, and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder gently. “Shall we?”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon.” Warm for the season but it plays into the atmosphere beautifully. No need to bundle up. “Although I believe we will have snow soon. Winter in Newport is divine.”

"I hear it piles up on rooftops like icing on cake." It was something that Allison had told you just a few days ago, and the mental image had just stayed in your mind. Living there and replaying for you over and over like a present. "I'm looking forward to it."

“What a charming comparison! It does!” She laughs, clear and bright in the afternoon sunshine and loops her arm through yours. “Perhaps we will sip tea and watch it pile up before we convince Emmanuel and your dear Max to take us out for a frolic in it. Mr. Taylor has sharpened the blades of the sleigh. So much better than a carriage in snow.”

"I'll have Max makes us cups of his hot chocolate," you offer, almost conspiratorially. "It's the best I've ever had and he won't tell me his secrets."

“Truly?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “So he enchanted you with his chocolate?”

"Amongst other things." The question brings heat to your cheeks immediately as you step out the door together. "I wasn't sure about him at first, but we found our way together quickly."

“It wasn’t love at first sight?” She asks, curious about it since you are soulmates. She had always assumed you just knew.

"Max can be a bit...full of himself," you admit with a laugh. "I thought he was very handsome, at first sight. If that counts for anything. We did not start to find our way together until we found a shared love of dancing."

“I must admit…” your mother bites her lip. “I spied on the two of you last night. You move to beautifully together.”

"Dancing is a passion that we share, and it is something I am very grateful for." That is probably an understatement, but you're not exactly going to explain competition ballroom to your semi-immortal mother in 1885. That's just...it's too much to even think about. "With the party tonight, I think there will be plenty of occasion for you to dance with him as well, if you like."

"I had hoped that you would allow me to have one dance with your husband." She admits. "Although, I will anxious be awaiting the reactions from all the dancers when they see the two of you dance."

"It will be nothing they have not seen before with so many other couples." If you're honest with yourself, you're trying to remember everything you can about traditional, historical dances instead of the modern competition dances. It isn't much, but you're pretty sure you can muddle through if you couple that with everything you can remember from watching BBC period dramas. "And Max will be very glad to dance with you. I promise it."

“Are you still enjoying the status of newlywed?” She asks, the pace of the walk nice and slow as the gravel crunches under your boots.

“I am.” Almost to your own surprise, considering it came out of nowhere in a letter from your abuela and then manifested almost immediately in life. You’ve actually found yourself wishing it was real. “Max is very attentive. And very sweet.”

The grin she shoots you is knowing. "I doubt a newly married husband is just sweet." She hums. "I think he would be passionate."

“There has not yet…been an opportunity to be passionate.” It spills out before you can really stop yourself, and instantly you have burning hot cheeks all over again. “The marriage was so recent, you see.”

“Oh- so you haven’t-“ her brows lift in surprise and she bites her lip in embarrassment. “My apologies for prying.”

"How could you have known?" It makes perfect sense to assume that a married couple has had sex in any time period. But you don't want to have to explain to your mother about your last ex or anything of the bruises that relationship left on your soul.

“Blast.” The curse comes out silently. “I was hoping to talk with another woman near my age.” She admits quietly.

“About…intimacy?” Even though this has the potential to become very awkward, you just can’t say no to her. Not to this young, excited version of your mother who is just beginning to learn about life.

“Not exactly intimacy.” She hedges slightly. “More how you knew Mr. Phillips was the one.” She confesses. “I feel like Emmanuel is my soulmate but I don’t know.”

“We share a mark.” In this specific way, you know you’re lucky. Having a birthmark meant nothing ever had to happen to you for you to find your soulmate. Some people in history have deliberately injured themselves in order to have scars. “He saw it on my skin and showed me his matching one. We were…quite lucky that it was that simple.”

“Is it….visible?” She asks, looking over your neck and hands. It’s not as if much skin is exposed to the public in your dresses.

“It was. In what I was wearing at that time.” Although, it does occur to you now that keeping your birthmark hidden from your mother might be wise. Otherwise she will put the pieces together later on. “It is very easy to cover, so it was unusual for it to be visible. But…a good thing. It ended up to be a very good thing.”

“I feel that Emmanuel is my soulmate.” She confesses with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. “I cannot explain it, but my heart- it jumps when he kisses me.” It might be scandalous to admit that she allowed him to kiss her, but she so completely enthralled with him from the moment they met.

It might be cruel or just insensitive to point out to her that her physical response to the kiss could just be lust, especially since in this time you’re pretty sure ladies weren’t even supposed to kiss a man until they were engaged. “Do you have any marks of your own?” You ask instead, realizing that you actually can’t remember if your mother had any when you were a child. Those memories are still…unpleasantly hazy. Even when so many other memories are now crystal clear in your mind.

“No.” She shakes her head sadly. “None of my own. Because of my…parentage, my skin heals without blemish. I only have one scar on my leg from my soulmate, and it would be completely inappropriate to show it to Emmanuel.”

“Perhaps you could ask him if he has scars instead?” Filing away that tidbit of information in your mind, you note to yourself that it fully explains why you never seemed to get the typical scratches and scars of childhood that your friends all did. “If you feel that he could be your soulmate…” Which, of course, you know he is but you can’t say so. “It might be a way to bridge the topic. Privately, of course.”

“What a good idea!” She exclaims. “He would not think me too forward, you think?”

You can’t help but smirk, looking over at your mother and tilting your head in amusement. “I think if he has already kissed you more than once, then being too forward by asking a question is probably not on your list of concerns.”

“I- you are correct.” She bites her lip and looks worried. “He probably thinks that I am unsuitable. Being so free.”

“Or perhaps he thinks that you feel as passionately about him as he feels about you.” Not really willing to get into the whole restricted sexuality thing of this time period, you shrug. “It is not such a terrible thing to be passionate.”

“My parents have never thought so, but others are not so accepting.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at the way the world is.

“Then I find myself in firm agreement with your family.” Which isn’t odd at all, when you consider that they’re your family, too.

“They are considered progressives, if people really knew their thoughts.” She clutches your arm. “But my parents do not speak about politics in social settings.”

“I understand it is considered very impolite.” At least, you’re pretty sure you read that in a book once. You hang onto her as tightly as she hangs on to you as you walk together, strolling down the length of the grounds first. All the way down in the direction of what is now a rose garden.

“That doesn’t mean that some do not talk politics.” She snorts. “Plenty of men try to do business deals during the social gatherings.”

"Of course they do." Nothing about that surprises you, but the woman your mother is at this point in your life seems disappointed by it. "But that only makes it easier to pick out the sort of men who find it impossible to relax and enjoy themselves. And those are the type of men to avoid, in general."

“You are right.” She agrees. “Hopefully Emmanuel is not that type of man. He doesn’t seem to be, but I have not been to many social gatherings with him.”

“How long have you known him?” There are vague memories you have in your head of a story about your parents being soulmates, but it is old and faded and feels wrong. You know they weren’t, but at some point you believed otherwise. Pushing away the knowledge that this is the woman who put you under the spell that changed those exact memories, you refocus on your mother and her smile. It’s exactly the same as when you were little — bright like sunshine on a summer day.

“Two weeks.” She admits, slightly embarrassed by how fast her feeling developed for Emmanuel. “We met at the Season opening ball.”

“It took me no longer than that to realize what Max means to me.” It was significantly less, if you’re honest, but your story is a bit odd to tell. Not that you’re itching to tell anything of the sort right now. “They say that with soulmates, sometimes your heart knows right away.”

“I feel that way with Emmanuel.” She confesses. “If he is not my soulmate, I will be horribly embarrassed. Because my feelings for him are already so strong. Especially because he’s human.”

“Being human is not a crime or a personal failing,” you remind her with a hint of amusement in her voice. She has no idea that she’ll raise you in such a human way. The irony of the moment is thick. “He must know that you are different, doesn’t he? It seems…very important for him to know.”

“He knows.” She nods quickly. “He- it is very fortuitous that he does not mind. He actually was curious about my father’s nature.”

Curious. It will be that curiosity that dooms everything, but you have to swallow that knowledge and not say a word. “It is fortunate to find open minded people in the world,” you say instead.

“Yes.” She nods. “I know it must have been a shock for you when you realized your husband’s nature?”

“It certainly was.” That night in the sitting room is burned into your memory, and you don’t think it will ever leave no matter how long you live. “But I have never felt anything but safe with him. There are so many stories of men whose dispositions change when they are transformed. If that was true of Max, then it has been a change for the better.”

“How interesting.” She shakes her head. “I must admit, I do not meet many of my father’s other offspring. Not for many years.”

“I imagine it must be very different for you.” You observe carefully, not wanting to overstep in anyway. “To have so many sort of…step-siblings? In a way?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles softly. “They have been there before I was. I am jealous in a way.” She admits. “They share a bond I do not, with him. Will never share.”

“But you share a bond with your father that they never could, as well.” You point out, squeezing her arm gently as you walk. “I am sure some of them must be jealous of you for that same reason. To be his child through more than the sharing of blood is remarkable.”

“I have often wondered.” She admits. “Though I have no desire to be a vampire. It is bad enough I crave rare meats during my menses.”

The admission is enough to make you snort, and you cover your mouth to feign some kind of ladylike manners before all-out laughing behind your glove. “Forgive me,” you manage, barely getting back your composure after a few seconds. “I was just…not expecting you to say that. At all.”

She giggles herself, aware of how horribly inappropriate it was and she’s glad you aren’t uptight. “If you beg forgiveness then I must as well.” She hums.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You promise her as your mutual laughter subsides. “I just never want you to think I’m laughing at you.”

“Even if you were, don’t friends laugh at each other?” She asks, still giggling.

“I suppose they do.” With her arm around yours it is a stark contrast to your childhood, but no less happy. She leans into your side as any close friend would and it makes you eternally glad that you fucked up that protection spell in such a way that it sent you straight back to your family. “Does that mean we are friends now?”

“I believe we are.” Annie decides with a grin. “We will be the best of friends.”

“I truly hope so.” At least, you think to yourself as you smile at her on your walk, for as long as it lasts.

“When I have a daughter, I will name her after you.” She decides with a pleased look on her face. “Dolly is a delightful name.”

“It…isn’t my given name.” Suddenly last night’s lamb recipe seems like nothing in the face of…becoming your own namesake. But still, you tell her your name. The name that appears on your birth certificate and all of those other things. “Dolly is…is what my family calls me.”

“You must think me so foolish.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Your proper name is gorgeous. I can see why your mother chose it. Was it a special name for her?”

“She—” As soon as it’s on the tip of your tongue you almost groan, realizing what the truth of the situation is. “She said it was her best friend’s name when she was young.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Annie sets her chin and nods. “Then I will carry on her tradition and use the name for my daughter.” She promises you. “You and Max can rest assured.”

“Then we should name our daughter Annie.” It was already in your head for the very clear reason that it was your mother’s name, but somehow making the pact with her like this is all the sweeter. “And we will carry each other together always.”

“So we shall.” The scenery in the gardens is nearly forgotten as you walk, arm in arm together. “I am looking forward to our trip on Emmanuel’s personal train car. Can you imagine? A car all to yourself?”

“Where do you wish to go?” It’s cool to you to be traveling in a real Pullman car for a completely different reason — what she views at the height of technology is something you’ve only read about in history books. “I’m sure he would agree to anywhere you choose.”

“Anywhere.” She say dreamily. Willing to go anywhere with her beau. “Do you have a particular destination in mind?”

“People speak so very highly of New York.” And in your own tone, you’ve enjoyed the city immensely. So much so that the idea of seeing it in the 1880s is nearly irresistible.

“Ohhh we should go!” She latches onto the idea immediately. “We can dine in the best restaurants and shop. Their modistes are amazing. Perhaps we can find something truly special for the ball.” She leans in conspiratorially, “I am hoping that Emmanuel proposes.”

“I would not be surprised if he did.” Wracking your mind, you can’t remember now if Yayo had said that your mother had been engaged or even married to her soulmate, but knowing what will eventually happen means you have to force a smile while your mother beams sunnily beside you. Unfortunately you’re sure it looks fake enough that it’s worth changing the subject. “But even if it does not come soon, the ball will still be lovely. Does your mother throw one at the same time each year?”

“Always.” She laughs. “Samhain was when mother and father met.” She explains. It is a special time of year for them.”

“It is something very special to celebrate, then.” In fact, you earmark the fact for yourself as well. That is why Mrs. Taylor jump so quickly in the idea of the coven having a Samhain masquerade. “They are very fortunate. To have such an enduring love story.”

“Yes.” She huffs a sigh and rolls her eyes. “But that means that a lot of expectation is placed on my shoulders too. Being their daughter.”

“You will have whatever story is best for you. Your life is your happiness, not theirs. Whatever they may think.” Realizing you e just given your mother advice — something which is probably definitely considering messing with history, you catch yourself and smile. “At least, that is what my dear friend says of her family.”

“It is my life.” She agrees. “So far, my life has been what they have wanted, but I cannot always please them and my own heart.”

“You will know when the time is right to become captain of your own ship.” You assure her, knowing full well that there will be multiple times in the future when it will be necessary. “But rushing towards it helps no one. Enjoy the time you have with someone else at the helm.”

“It is one of the reasons I have yet to marry.” She laughs slightly. “That and I wish to marry my soulmate.”

Clearing your throat slightly, you glance at her and consider for a moment that ultimately, she will end up losing Emmanuel. She’ll meet your father and That means that at some point, her view on soulmates will change. Or at least expand. “Soulmates are not the only good spouses in the world,” you venture. “My dearest friend at home…she has been blessed with deep love, but not with her soulmate.”

“I don’t disparage them.” She assures you, looking almost horrified that you might think that of her comment. “I just-“ she sighs. “I have heard mother and father’s story so many times, I wish to see what my own soulmate would be like.”

“My only wish is for your happiness.” The clarification feels necessary, as you walk through the chilly October afternoon. “However you may achieve it.”

“The same to you.” She promises. “Perhaps life will be picture perfect. No one can tell the future, not even my father.”

******

There is something to be said for the fact that the ‘ball’ your grandparents are throwing tonight is not, apparently, full scale. This is a dinner dance, of sorts. It isn’t four hundred people streaming all over the property — it’s one hundred and twenty guests precisely and they are all arriving to celebrate Annie’s birthday. When you were a kid, your mother’s birthday was the movie of her choice at the local theater and family dinner out, so this is…a remarkably bigger celebration. The guests begin arriving at ten o’clock, streaming into the house in their fine gowns and shimmering jewelry, and you and Max are trying so hard to catch names. Wetmore. Reed. Slater. Ives. Vanderbilt. Astor. Goelet. Hunt. Roosevelt. It’s all a whirlwind. When Emmanuel is announced, your mother glows and goes to him immediately, and you can see the expressions of approval on your grandparents’ faces. “Is it weird that I like him a lot?” You murmur to Max on the other side of the room. Cornelius Vanderbilt had just been shaking his hand and Max looks so puffed up and proud about it. “That’s not…betraying my father’s memory? Right?”

“It’s not, Queenie.” Max reassures you softly. “He’s a good man. I fuckin’ hate knowing what happens.”

"Me too." At least Max understands that. He feels it right along with you. "It doesn't help that they really seem to adore each other."

“That might be why it took so long to find your father.” He offers, not sure enough about Annie to believe that she would become loose by the day’s standards after destroying her soulmate. “I don’t know if I could ever find someone if I was in her shoes.”

“Good thing for you that I’m not going anywhere.” Squeezing his arm gently with one gloved hand, you smile up at Max softly. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Phillips.”

“Mrs. Phillips.” He grins back down at you, getting a kick out of calling you by your supposedly married name. “How are you enjoying the dinner dance so far? This has to be every girl who watches Downtown Abby’s wet dream, right?”

“It’s pretty close to the top of the fantasy list,” you admit, warm and pliant under even the tease of being called Mrs. “Although, when we get back from New York we’re invited to a ball at Beechwood. And after touring all the mansions with Allison I’m kind of dying to be able to say we were on the Astor’s guest list.”

“As you should.” He hums. “He wants to talk with me about business. I can’t imagine the insight this man has.”

“William Backhouse Astor wants to talk business with you?” It’s not that you doubt Max in the least, but your eyes go wide in surprise. “And Cornelius Vanderbilt was just shaking your hand a second ago.” The grin on his face is so pleased that it’s borderline shit-eating and you stifle a laugh. “You’re loving the Gilded Age, aren’t you?”

“These are the fucking Bill Gates and Steve Jobs of the times, babe.” He snorts. “I’m over the damn moon. That MBA is paying off in spades.”

“I’ll have to figure out how to get us here deliberately and maybe we can visit from time to time.” He would love that, and you could see your family sometimes. It would be remarkable if it ever worked.

“You would love that. Pop back and visit your mom when you need that connection.” He’s not unaware that you feel different about having your mother as a friend, but you are also cherishing every moment you have with her.

“Maybe we can visit some of the Phillips clan, too. Track them down wherever it is they’re hiding in history.” He lost as much as you did but hasn’t had the blessing of a long-lost grandparent, and you want nothing more than for Max to have every single happiness that you have. To be able to share that with him.

Regret flashes in his eyes and he blinks it away. His shoulders lifting casually as he brushes off the hurt that his family had caused him. “Might be interesting. See how many skeletons are in the closet.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” The situation with Derek might be behind you now, but your shoulders still drop and your expression changes completely when you see the hurt in his eyes. If you could time travel instantly and change it so you said nothing at all, you would do it immediately.

“You didn’t upset me.” Max promises, sliding his hand around your waist. “My own hurts are not your fault, you make everything worthwhile.” He drops a kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, too,” you hum softly. It’s dawned on you that Max doesn’t say the words outright very often, but he says it in different ways all the time.

“Of course you do.” He chuckles and nods towards the atrium where the buffet table is laid out. “Shall we go see how Mrs. Taylor’s table looks before I whisk my wife to the dance floor?”

“You’re enjoying calling me that, I think.” Or you hope he is, b because you enjoy hearing it.

“I get to try it on, see how it feels.” Max teases you shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He leads the two of you toward the Great Hall with all its overflowing tables and beautiful gas light. There are punch bowls full of highly alcoholic punch but also crisp, cold water and Max pours out two glasses of water so no one will attempt to be polite and offer punch. “And how are you liking it?”

“It’ll do.” He teases and sends you a smirk. “I don’t mind it all. Not at all. Think it should be permanent.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I want you to.” Admittedly, though, you hope to the gods that he means it. The idea that he might makes you feel like that little bird in your chest could take flight all over again.

“I’m not.” He tightens his hold on your waist and looks into your eyes seriously. “The only thing that I worry about is you dying and leaving me alone.” He confesses quietly. “But I want you to be mine. Not to posses you. You aren’t a toy, but to cherish you.”

"Haven't you heard?" Somehow his hold on you is even tighter with the corset laced neatly around your waist. It isn't too tight, but it hugs you so well that his hand feels like it's going to slip right through your many layers and burn right into your skin. "Apparently you're the person who can stop that from happening." Person. Vampire. There's no need to be specific especially with so many party guests around. The thought has been on your mind since yesterday and you've been trying to summon up the courage to talk to Max about it.

“You didn’t seem too fond of the idea when I told you.” He reminds you quietly. He hadn’t wanted to push, so when you seemed resistant to it, he had dropped the subject, although the thoughts of only having a short time with you had started to bother him.

"I've been thinking about it more lately." It's not the time for the full discussion and you both know that, but at least now the topic is open again. "Maybe we can talk it over the next time we have a little privacy?" There won't be much of it coming any time soon, not while you're traveling with your mother and Emmanuel starting tomorrow afternoon, but at least there is the comfort of your bed for any conversations that should remain just between the two of you.

“I would love to talk to you about it more.” If possible, Max seems to glow at the prospect of you prolonging your life and he pulls you close. He would kiss you, but it’s frowned upon in public, even with married couples.

When he bends his head slightly but stops halfway, you recognize the gesture immediately — he did it earlier today and received a word of advice from Yayo that public displays of affection are considered rude in this time. So you do something you’ve seen your abuela do several times since your arrival — and present your cheek to him with a sly smile. A kiss on the cheek, apparently, is fully acceptable. And if that’s all you can share right now without being subject to comment, then that’s fine. It’s more important to keep a low profile right now and not become the subject of gossip.

“Tease.” He pouts playfully, letting his lips linger against your skin. “You do know husbands can spank their wives in this time, right?” He only says this because you know he would never lay a hand on you in anger. He would rather Evan drive a stake through his heart again.

“You wouldn’t.” You’re absolutely positive of that, but since you can tell that Max is enjoying teasing you, you give him a wink instead. “Wives are also supposed to have separate bedrooms. Maybe I’ll just insist on that.”

“You wouldn’t.” His lower lip immediately comes out at the prospect and he shakes his head. “You enjoyed your temperature controlled Snuggie every night.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” But he is so very adorable when he pouts, and teasing is a tone that becomes you both. You are at your lightest and happiest when you are able to tease each other. “Besides, as newlyweds, this is technically our honeymoon.”

“Yes it is.” He hums, pulling you closer. “So perhaps I can take a walk with my wife in the gardens so I can kiss my bride?”

The warmth in your cheeks is essentially a fire now, with the way he keeps harping on the titles of bride and wife. “I think we could probably steal away for a little while after supper,” you hum, having to look away or else you’ll get lost in his eyes entirely. To the rest of the room you just look demure. “Yayo won’t mind.”

“Of course he won’t.” Your grandfather had taken him out to find you a proper ring, stating that it wasn’t acceptable to have you with a bare finger, even if you had eloped. The ring is extraordinary and there’s a sense pride knowing he can give you something to bring back to your proper time.

“I wish I could say we should go sit in the teahouse but it hasn’t been built yet.” It was something of a surprise to discover the miniature cottage does not exist yet, but when you had casually mentioned to your mother in your walk that it would be a darling place to take tea, she had jumped on the idea and promised to mention it to her mother.

“I still find it amusing that you are responsible for the tea house.” He snorts, having cackled when you had told him about the conversation. “I wonder how the fireplace is coming along?”

“Who knows? I doubt they’re looking for us, all things considered. Yayo and Mrs. Taylor will know better.” Still, you can’t help but smile at the irony of being responsible for the building of your own favourite retreat. “It seems I’m responsible for my mother’s favourite lamb dish, the teahouse, and my own name.”

“I wish I could have named myself.” Max snorts. “Would have picked something way better.”

“I like your name.” This time it’s your turn to pout, just to continue the teasing tone of the night. Although this teasing makes you lower your voice. There hasn’t been much physical intimacy between you, but the more nights you share a bed, the more you want to share that with him. “One syllable makes it easier to moan.”

“Oh Maximilian.” He creates a high falsetto and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s really great.”

“It’s Max, and that’s no more ridiculous than Dolly.” You point out with a soft snort.

“Doll, baby doll, good girl.” Max grins lasciviously at you and winks. “All of them will sound amazing when they are muffed against your neck or between your thighs.”

“How am I supposed to be proper with you talking like that?” At this point you know it just encourages him to be scolded, but you don’t mind. Not really. Not when you’ve quickly found yourself daydreaming about him in all sorts of very graphic ways.

“I guess the one good thing about all these layers is that no one would ever know that you are wet.” He hums quietly, his lips against your ear.

“Except you.” For this precise moment, you will not give even a second thought to the fact that your grandfather can certainly smell that too. He doesn’t know it’s you, and for all you know half the ladies here are hot and bothered. For you, all that matters right now is Max.

******

After the night is winding down, the morning sky is starting to peak over the edge of the horizon. Luckily, the drapes are heavy and can block out the sun so that the house can sleep the day away after dancing all night. Max loosens his tie as you sit down at your little table to pull the pins for the flowers and sparkling beads out of your hair.

“Suddenly I understand why all the ladies who dresses like this had maids,” you sigh. Exhausted but happy is a wonderful way to go to bed, and the pre-sunrise breakfast served to the remaining guests has warmed you through entirely.

“For tonight, you will just have to have your husband suffice.” Max has shucked his jacket, leaving his vest buttoned and his shirts first three buttons undone with his tie hanging around his neck as he walks towards you. Watching you in the mirror as he moves closer.

He really has no right to be so drop dead handsome. It would be unfair if he wasn’t your soulmate. As it is it’s an enormous distraction, as you can feel him walking toward you but only see his clothing in the silver-backed mirror in your vanity table. His frame is obvious in that reflection but not the face you’ve become so fond of, so you turn around on your stool to smile at him softly. “You were wonderful tonight, by the way. I overheard some ladies gossiping about you after we danced.”

“Yeah?” He smirks and tilts his head. “What did they say? Jealous of how we danced? That I enjoy whisking my bride around the ballroom?”

“There was a little speculation about our passionate elopement,” you tell him, an amused little grin blossoming on your face. “Apparently the way we dance is almost too sexy for the 1880s.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles and waggles his brows playfully. “If they only knew what we could have danced.”

“I think doing an Argentine Tango for these people might give them all heart attacks.” It’s…Something to think about, though. Imagining the deep, very obvious intimacy of that kind of dance with him.

“Very provocative.” Max murmurs, reaching out and cupping your face. “Especially because you would just have to wear that nightgown thing to dance it properly.”

"Chemise." His hand seems to cover half of your face with no effort at all, but you melt into the gesture just as if you were a flower that he was inspecting in the garden. "It's called a chemise, and those are see through as you well know."

“It’s my favorite goddamn thing you wear.” He snorts and bites his lip as he looks down at you. “Still, you couldn’t wear the bulky dresses. Maybe put some pants on you. Really give them a sight to see.”

"It's your favourite because it basically doesn't exist." He had been nearly speechless last night when he came into your shared room to find you sitting up in bed in the thin white slip, which despite being fairly ornate is definitely not sturdy in any way.

"i'm not saying you should walk around naked," Max huffs with a grin on his face. "But you should walk around naked." He had though he had done fairly well in not staring and his hands hadn't strayed during the the night. He deserves bonus points for that. Whoever thought skimpy was better, obvious never appriecated the sexiness of innocently sheer and covering.

“So should you.” Your last bits of jewelry go on the vanity table, stripping away the trinkets that have been weighing you down all night. It isn’t that you necessarily had been planning to take the next step forward with Max, but the opportunity has just sort of…fallen into your lap. And after the way you’ve been feeling all night, you actually don’t want to waste it. “We both could? Just…around this one little room?”

Max stares at you for a moment in shock, unsure of what you mean. "I guess you won't get offended if I'm sporting wood?" He asks finally, chuckling at himself for being so damn wary when he was a fucking man-whore in his previous life.

“That’s more of a compliment than an offense.” The tension in the room has risen a little, not from anything more than interest and wanting. Desire has been thick in the air between you all night. “Only if you want to, handsome. No pressure or anything.”

“Baby doll, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” Max groans, unable to resist being a little bit of that former playboy while discussing intimacy with his soulmate. Even if he has displayed a lot more restraint and consideration than anyone who knew him before would ever expect, you’re gorgeous and he wants you.

The freedom you’ve felt in this time doesn’t necessarily boil down to just one factor, but since the biggest thing holding you back has been removed from your path to happiness you have felt lighter than air. Smiling up at Max from your place in front of the vanity, you tilt your head slightly to one side and take in the sight of your stunning soulmate. “Maybe…” You end up biting your lip again, nervousness and excitement washing over you. “You could show me?”

It’s instantaneous, his fangs springing out of his gums and his eyes taking on a lighter, yellower hue as his desires take hold. His face doesn’t shift, but his jaw clenches. “You have to be sure.” He nearly growls. “Once I touch you…”

The intensity of desire a vampire has for their mortal soulmate has been explained to you. This sort of reaction isn’t totally unexpected. But knowing that Max’s desire will never spill over into rage makes all the difference. “I’m sure,” you promise him, nodding once as you meet his bright eyes.

Breathing isn’t necessary, but Max exhales roughly. His entire body hardening at the thought of finally being able to touch you like he’s imagined as you dream in his arms. “What do you want me to not do, my little doll?” He asks. “Tell me now, please.”

He already knows that any kind of name calling is off the books, which your certain is one of the reasons that he so consistently uses sweet little pet names for you. What you haven’t discussed previously is specifics of your sexual history, which is why you are so, so grateful for this moment right here. “No restraints,” you tell him honestly, knowing that the old chestnut of using a tie to keep hands out of the way will have you spiraling instead of moaning. “And no degradation. Those are the hard lines that I can’t cross.”

“No restraints, no degradation.” He can quickly agree to that, having no want to make you feel embarrassed about what happens between you. “Biting?” He groans out, knowing he can be shot down. “Off limits?”

“No fangs until we get a chance to talk?” The topic hadn’t been touched since it was mentioned in passing early last night, and now is hardly the time to stop everything for a heart-to-heart.

“O-okay.” That part will be a little more difficult for him, especially at that sweet vein in your inner thigh, but he has enough restraint to abide by your wishes. “Regular teeth only.”

“We can talk about fangs for next time.” Your hand cradles his jaw softly and you give him an encouraging smile. There will absolutely be a next time. As far as you’re concerned, this morning is the beginning of something.

“Nothing you don’t want.” Max reassures. “But I will be showing off my oral skills in other ways.” He smirks. “I’m more than just a pretty set of fangs.”

“You keep saying that.” The teasing hum is back in your voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to prove it.”

“With the dress on, or off?” Max’s eyes gleam in challenge and it takes a conscious effort to make his fangs retract. “Lay down on the bed, my sweet Dolly.”

“In a bustle?” The skeptical look on your face says all it needs to, and you stand from your place in the bench. “I am not explaining to Mrs. Taylor that we crushed a silk evening gown because you couldn’t wait to eat me out. Help me get out of this thing first.”

In the blink of an eye, Max is beside you, spinning you around to start untying your gown. Eager to get to your skin underneath.

It had been fun to wear all night, right up until this moment. The clasps and hooks holding your bodice in place all have to go. Bodice. Skirt. Corset cover. Petticoats. Layer after layer lifts away until all that remains is the corset laced snuggly around your waist and the chemise beneath it. Even your stockings have already been rolled down your legs, tossed aside to be forgotten about on the rug until later.

Max grins and pushes you down onto the bed playfully, still fully dressed and winks at you. “Now, what was that about needing to prove something?” He teases.

“If you want to be teacher’s pet, I’ll make up a little grading system for you,” you tease, remembering what your Yayo had said about Max being kind of a suck up in college.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He strips off the tie and tosses it down. “Let’s see how fast I can get graded.”

In just your chemise and corset, the effect of having Max lie you out in that giant four-poster bed is sort of like the most romantic pornography of all time. The stiff, starched collar from his shirt has been rejected along with all the other trinkets from his suit tonight, and while his jacket might have technically ended up on a chair it certainly wasn’t graceful. He looks like the charming hero of some Victorian novel that’s about to fully debauch himself and can’t wait to take you with him. And it’s better because it’s you he’s talking with you. “Just because you finish the test first doesn’t mean you get the best grade, Max,” you warn him in a teasing singsong.

“Baby doll, you haven’t seen what my tongue can do.” He promises, flicking it out of his mouth and its slightly longer than normal. Another positive to being a vampire.

One knee at a time, Max settles into the valley between your thighs and carefully pushes the hem of your chemise up your legs, doing his best to control the urge to just tear the fabric to get at your core as quickly as possible. When you swallow a breath and lay back against the pillows, you nod and caress his shoulder. “I’m sure,” you promise him.

“I know, baby girl.” He coos. “You just lay back and let me make you see the stars.” He knows that Derek didn’t treat you right, but he’s determined to erase that man’s touch on your mind, body and soul.

Without modern panties — and even without the ridiculous crotchless pantaloons worn in this time — as soon as your shift is pushed up and the cool night air brushes your skin, the difference in a vampiric lover is obvious. There’s no unpleasant memory of hot breath on your body or of searing hot touch making you squirm away. Max’s cool skin is a balm to wash away the bad memories, replacing them with promises of the future. The first touch of his lips and longer tongue to the apex of your sighs earns him a sharp inhale from you, but just as soon as it comes you sigh and relax into the bed a hair more. Even just a kiss over your clit is enough to tell you how different a lover Max will be from anything you’ve had before.

“Fuck you’re so sweet.” Max groans, pulling away from your clit to just look at swollen flesh. “I can feast on you all night.”

A breathless laugh comes from deep in your chest, and you run one hand through his short hair. “It’s morning, love. You’ve got all day, instead.”

“I’ll do it through the day and into the night.” Max snorts, smirking at the idea even if you can’t see it.

“I believe you would.” In fact, you don’t doubt it for a second. Especially not with the way he dives back in for another taste that has your head falling back on the pillow all over again.

Max is cocky when it comes to sex, but he’s got something to prove. He wants to show you how good it will be with him. Wanting to make sure you know that your soulmate will lick your pussy anytime you want.

It’s been years since the last time you had a head between your thighs, and even then you were made to feel like it was an enormous burden. Max descends on your clit like it is his favorite treat in the world and he has been starved of it. Ravenous for the taste of you and insatiable in his hunger.

Max feeds off your sounds, loving the soft, restrained moans that you are trying to keep quiet. Wanting to make it to where you forget anyone else is in the house, he squeezes your thighs and pushes his tongue deep inside you.

Your moans pitch up immediately, a sharp gasp bursting out of you like an explosion and your fingers in his hair tightening instinctively. This has been one of your favorite intimacies, oh so long ago, and even though you’ve told yourself that it wasn’t worth missing, you have. The trust involved in giving someone else complete access to your soul is nothing to turn up your nose at, after all.

Max moans into your flesh, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal as he tastes it on his tongue. You are fresh off your cycle and he twitches in his pants at the thought of tongue fucking you to soothe your cramps.

It isn't restraining, the way Max has his forearms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open for that mutual enjoyment as he dives deeper and deeper into your cunt. It's cradling you. Treasuring you. And it's so damn good. The fingers of your free hand tangle in the sheets on your other side but you're not sure you won't need them to stifle your own moans. The amount of pressure he's putting on your most sensitive areas is perfect and every flick of his tongue is another sharp jolt of pleasure that has your chest heaving in the corset still tied around your torso.

He can’t see your face but he can feel the beating of your heart through your body. Smell the sweet blood swimming in your veins and it makes him ravenous. Intent on making sure you scream his name when you cum.

Every pass of his tongue over your core, every probe and every lick ticks your heartbeat up that much faster until you feel like your head is swimming and you know your thighs are shaking. The very direct way he's chosen to tongue fuck you as if his afterlife depends on it almost makes you feel like you're laying on a choppy sea and he's the only thing keeping you from sinking.

Large hands start to squeeze your thighs. Stroking from your knee down to your hips. Encouraging you to give in to him as his tongue works harder and harder, the ability to not breathe working in his favor as he doesn’t let up to gasp for air.

It’s almost overwhelming because he never has to let up. He dives in over and over again, lapping up every bit of dripping wetness that you have for him and drinking it down like a man starved but he never has to pause or even shift in his attention. It has you building up and up and up on a mountain that feel like the peak of pleasure is impossibly high but deliriously tantalizing to reach. The moment that sends you into hazy bliss though, isn’t the typical oncoming orgasm. It’s when Max wraps his lips around your swollen clit and sucks — sharp and with a groan that reverberates through your whole body. Your back lifts off the mattress and you barely manage to stifle half the keening sound you make, going boneless and letting your legs open as wide as they will go. Just begging him to do it again.

Max groans, growling slightly and his entire soul seems to brighten as you come apart for him. Body vibrating as he absorbs your pleasure as if it were his own, maybe it is. Maybe this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate. Consuming him completely as your thighs shake around his head.

It comes on all at once, mere minutes after he began, and if Max was aiming to bowl you over with sheer skill then he should take the near wail of his name as you start to cum as a signal that he has done extremely well. It washes over you all at once, bending your back and making your legs squeeze his head tight, which only earns you another groan.

The only thing missing is the sight of your face as you cum. Max closes his eyes and imagines it, his face starting to shift in his excitement. Bones knitting and becoming heavier, sharper. His growl deepening although he makes sure to keep his fangs retracted. Not wanting to pierce your delicate flesh. Perhaps one day you would let him bite your lip and lick the blood from your cunt.

Unexpected and rumbling, the depth of the growl between your legs makes your eyes shoot open. Still darkened with lust, when you look down at Max to find him transformed between your thighs, something even more unexpected makes your cunt ache at the sight of someone so powerful unraveled and needy for you. "Do it again, love." You can hear the ferocity in your own voice, the demand and the need. Desire and a type of desperation that you've never felt before. The need for more. "Again. Just like that."

Max’s yellow eyes flicker, darken even more to a burnt amber as he tightens his grip on your thighs. Not enough to hurt you, not even at his most powerful would he ever hurt you. His snarl of obedience bounces off the walls of the room and his eager tongue buries itself back in your cunt to carry out your surprisingly arousing order.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sweetnsaltyclussy

My Masterlist!

[conostra]

Chainsaw Man, or: The Myth of Third-Party Consent

This is gonna be more a stream of consciousness than a properly-written piece btw. Love me some CSM and had some thoughts on the recent chapters

It finally happened! Denji got molested. Unfortunately, this is probably the absolute worst way bro could've got his first nut off. After a series of literal months of his life being sexually harassed, assaulted, manipulated by older women in his life, and then ultimately coming to the conclusion that his dick, as the embodiment of his sexuality, was his ultimate demon, and that the stick gotta go. Maybe the balls too. They make the testosterone, so they gotta be the problem, right? And Yoru offers to assist him, by cutting his dick off in the back alley between some nearby buildings. They go back there, he changes his mind, they argue over it for a bit, and then she forces her hands into his pants- Yoru, not Asa, forces herself into his pants. One tally on the "ummm, I don't think this is appropriate" score.

Tally two comes after she grabs his penis, and this is where the weirdness comes into play. She remembers as she grabs his dick that this is not, in fact, the first time that these two have "gotten intimate". The first time was Asa and him at his apartment, at her behest- before she was turned into a dog by Nayuta, and had her memories wiped. She remembers that they kissed, and leans in to kiss him again. Denji's face screams confusion, but ultimately, he accepts, leaning in to kiss as well after her second go at him. And she begins to jerk him off, to completion, and he finishes in her hands.

So, here we are. Denji finally got his nut off! But instead of celebrating, he slumps to the ground in the alley as Yoru cleans off her hands in a puddle. Her immediate first response is, at first calm, then panicked, to cut Denji off when he asks why they kissed to tell him that she only kissed him because it felt good. And absolutely no other reason. At all. And that she harbors no feelings for him. At all. In any way at all. In any way shape or form. And in fact, that any and all feelings that she felt or has only came from the "other her", Asa.

Way to clear things up, Yoru.

Asa bitch smacks the absolute fuck out of Yoru on her way out the alley, hurting both of themselves, punching and beating on herself even after she gets her body back, crying into the wall that she did, in fact, like Denji, and now he's just gonna think she's some slut cause she literally gave it up to him in a back alley.

And on the train, they both look like they've gone through shell-shock, and to varying degrees, they both have.

Asa was forced to become a rapist. Despite Yoru being the one to "act", it was her body, her hands, her feelings that were Yoru's own one and the same. She, to some degree in her own mind, bears enough of the responsibility here to feel shame on herself, not just if at all for what she did for Denji, but the age-old shame that all women, but especially women Asa's age are forced to bear for being at all sexual with another person, especially another young man like Denji. She's soiled herself, in her eyes, and Denji wouldn't want her. She holds no value to herself, as much as she thinks she holds to Denji.

There's a mix of other feelings in there, of course. Potentially, there is jealousy that Yoru was the one who used her body for the "real" kiss from Denji, that she was robbed of the opportunity to actually get to perform the acts of both love and intimacy that her body was puppeteered for. There is also more than just a small chance that Asa is too caught up in these mixed feelings in the moment to understand that what just happened to her AND Denji was nothing short of sexual assault by Yoru.

And this is almost definitely what happened to Denji. When he has been manipulated like this for the entirety of his life at this point, with no real autonomy or ownership over himself, starting as a young boy and ending with the collapse of Makima's reign over his life, Denji is almost used to these feelings. But when this... "thing"... happens with Yasa, this on-and-off relationship the two of them have shared over the past few months, his immediate concern is the one thing he's truly focused on when it came down to it for his relationships- Does Yasa really feel a way about him? Or did she, just like those before, simply use him?

First the mafia. They owned his body as a tool to pay off his father's debt. Then, Makima, and Himeno, and Reze, Power, and even Nayuta. Himeno used him to try to get off, then vomited in his mouth, then utilized him to try to get what she wanted from Aki. Sure, she became a friend, but only after nearly forcing herself onto the conflicted and young boy.

Reze, who claimed to have fallen in love with him, and wished to run away. Who helped teach Denji to do math, and read, and to play and think for himself, before ultimately revealing that the love had been staged, and that she was a powerful devil sent to either kidnap or execute him. She kills some of his friends, allies, whatever- and still, he wishes to run away with her. He hopes that, perhaps, although staged, the flower of love had still actually bloomed, and could grow even further were it planted somewhere else. And Reze, in fact, reveals that it could have blossomed even more beautifully- before being cut down at the stem by Makima.

Power is Denji's first real experience with the female body. And it's... not at all what Denji had it cracked up to be. First time bro copped a feel on a pair of titties, and not only were they padded, but he still didn't enjoy it nearly as much as he imagined he would. In fact, this was enough to get him to re-think his goals, and what it was he wanted out of life. It got him to almost remember...

And then Makima got her hooks back in him. She ruined not just his relationships with women, but people in general. Got him to kill Aki. Got him to kill Power. Got him to forget his initial dream, his dream to just find a girl to hang out with and play video games with, a girl to just fall asleep with in his arms. She might, in fact, be one of the primary reasons that his perversion went beyond just standard perversion. By making herself the object of his desire, she could shape his activity, shape the very desire itself. And she did- he needed a mother, and she gave him the idea of that and a lover in one, the shelter he needed through the girl he could fall asleep with. She made herself his goal, and dangled it, constantly. Every woman now compares to Makima, and now with every woman Denji must go through the same hoops.

One of those hoops being: "Do you really love me?" Not only if they truly love him, but if they love him. That they aren't still just there for chainsaw man. That they aren't still just there for his body, aren't there on some secret agenda, that they're there for him. And Asa? Denji enjoyed his time. And perhaps, Denji thought that Asa was there for him, even if she flip-flopped so hard. Even through her emotional issues and diabolical amounts of autism, she was fun to be around, and enjoyed the time she spent with him for him.

And here, stripped to his barest, literally slumped to the ground in an alleyway after being sexually taken advantage of more directly than any other time in his life, is the first girl who's really, truly, unabashedly brought enjoyment to his life in a way that Nayuta simply couldn't, there is- nothing. There is just the idea that, once again, Denji has been used and cast aside.

He's still reckoning with all that. The aspersion of his autonomy is already ingrained into who he is. There is no need for Denji to reconcile with being taken advantage of in the alley, because in order to do that, Denji must reconcile with his entire life. And I'm not even sure if Denji has the mental faculties to reconcile with the idea that this is an issue he has to deal with. Not even taking into account that one of his immediate stress responses is still, after all this time, putting his finger in his mouth, and thinking of Makima.

[theheraldsrest]

how do you think the companions would react to a mute or deaf inquisitor? like one who communicates through sign language?

“Companions react to Mute/Deaf Inquisitor”

I try to do my research for the most part when I do these posts. So if I do get something wrong, please let me know! I enjoy getting the chance to understand topics further and getting to hear from you guys! And thank you anon!

-Lord Lex

Cullen

-One of the many who struggle with communication and now he’s learning that you can communicate through your hands. He’s a little worried about you being on the battlefield but he’ll try not to mother you. He knows the others have your back and, hey, you’ve been fighting before you were even part of the Inquisition so that reassures him. He struggles to learn sign-language but instead, if the Inquisitor is deaf, will communicate through simply passing along some paper. Same with if deaf but he’ll mostly speak to you and rely on a written response.

Josephine

-Josey is an ambassador for the Inquisition, of course she’s going to know a few languages. If she doesn’t, she usually tries to learn them as soon as possible. Like Cullen, she’ll be worried about you when in the field, but outside of it she finds no problems. She’ll go with you wherever when in Haven/Skyhold, translating for people or for you. Anyone who tries to disresepct you behind your back will get a stern talking to.

Leliana

-She always did say the best spy was one who didn’t speak. Maybe not so surprisingly she knows several forms of sign language for different languages and will make sure on which ones to use for you. If a message needs to be said, she’ll say it for you. Though, sometimes, she’ll watch as people make fools of themselves either by talking rudely to you when your deaf or asking why you aren’t responding when mute. Proceeds to introduce you as the Inquisitor and that you’re deaf/mute. 

Vivienne

-Not so surprised. Is actually another one who stays by your side, either translating or shutting down anyone who so happens to make a comment about you. Tries to stay where you can see her, either her hands or mouth being visible for you. Sometimes when translating for you, she’ll add in her own comment but makes sure people know that it’s her opinion and not yours. “The Inquisitor bids you welcome. I, on the other hand, hope your stay is very short.”

Varric

-Varric finds it pretty interesting, having met a few people in his travels who couldn’t speak or hear. Wasn’t able to pick up on sign language but he won’t try to exclude you because he doesn’t know what you’re saying. He’ll try any methods of talking with you or getting to know what you’re saying, including through drawings. He’s not the best artist but you both find it such a goofy way of communicating. Makes many people question how ya’ll even know what either of you are saying, especially when you’re both nodding sagely over a drawing of a nug with a crown.

Cole

-He knows you’re speaking, but the words aren’t coming out. Right for you, but not right for others. Cole is very confused on why no one else can hear you until he realises they can’t hear the ghost of your words. Don’t rely too much on him to translate, we all know his speech patterns. Especially when he does translate for you, he’ll either say everything on your mind or too little of what you want to say. But it is pretty funny when he tries to do a voice for you. Most specificly when you’re trying to act intimidating and he just makes his voice rough and tough. He’s trying his best.

Solas

-He finds no problem with it. Might find it slightly difficult when trying to translate certain elven words, especially if the Inquisitor doesn’t know elven. but that won’t stop him. Solas will try to find a way to describe it or use appropriate wording to get his point across or to explain certain words. He’s very patient with you and will even ask you to teach him a few signs so that it’s easier for you. Even tries to keep an eye on your hands if you’re mute so that he can see when you wish to speak.

Cassandra

-The one who gets frustrated the most over it. She’s trying, she really is. She does know some sign language, but only some. She’ll get words wrong or mistranslate sometimes. But even worse when she forgets because she’ll go on long tangents or going over plans and will look at you for input and it just hits her. Has to get you paper and a quill to write out responses or even she’ll write out her whole thing. Cass isn’t frustrated with you, she’s frustrated with trying to remember these things as well as sign language.

The Iron Bull

-He knows a few words and phrases but he also teaches you a few of his own. He works around it, makes sure you know it’s not a hinderance. Pretty impressed with how you power through, becoming a leader and, because of you, most of Skyhold actually knows a bit of sign-language. Unlike the others, though, if someone asks what you’re saying, he’s going to tell them either to guess or that it’s time for them to learn a new language. Bull’s only messing with people but if you ask him to stop he will. (Fun fact: Krem taught him sign language. Krem was a little excited to speak with you when he saw you using it.) Speaking of Krem, you know how he sits to Bull’s blind side? Bull will do the same for you except being your ears if deaf or being your voice if mute.

Dorian

-Genuinely one of the most curious of your group. Dorian’ll sit down with you for hours just to learn, eventually being able to have conversations with you in more easier terms. He’ll still talk (a lot) but now it’s accompanied by him moving his hands, either to help you or to just practice. He also enjoys how private it can be, not having to worry about listening ears or unwanted company. He tries to help as much as you’ll let him, either deaf or mute and will interpret when needed. Also uses it to shit talk but only around you or those in your group. Josephine cuaght him once and gave him a talking because one of the nobles actually knew sign language.

Sera

-It’s not her type of sign language. Which is either signs like moving forward or a certain finger. More frustrated than Cassandra sometimes but also has fun with it. Might be irritating with certain people as she tries to guess what you’re saying, going through charades to get your point across or even hers. She’s even tried to create her own and teach it to you. Most of the time it’s just words that already exist but smashed together like shitbiscuit. She’ll try testing things with you, like if your senses are heightened due to one of them being gone. Specificlly by throwing apples at you. Might want to work on your reflexes.

Blackwall

-He’s trying, I promise. He’s able to guess but it does little when you’re trying to get whole phrases or sentences out. It’ll take Blackwall a second to remember what that certain hand movement means but he’ll get there. Same as Bull where he’ll act as your ears but not your voice. Does not want to be responsible for that or equivalate his voice as yours. His main answer is “You give the orders, I follow them.” Sometimes will just walk up to you saying he’s got this and then try to sign to you and ask if he did it correctly. It’s a 50/50 chance he did. 

[darth-aces]

Sorting Through Books

You worked at a bookstore. One of those bookstores filled to the brim with books. In the front the books were positioned in it’s appropriate genre and alphabetical order, but the moment you step in the back you’d find yourself confused, as everything had been sort of thrown together in heaps of books. It was an old bookstore and it was recently sold to a new owner who was having you reorganize the shelves. You didn’t mind the task as it kept you busy and away from most people throughout the day which was great for any introvert.

Despite the seclusion, you weren’t lonely because you had company with you. You had a buddy with you that accompanied you as you worked. Her name was Maru, a grey tabby cat that wandered into the bookstore when the new owner bought the place and has forever made it her home. Every now and then you’d also find wandering customers looking at the books that you were trying to organize.

Today started out as any other day, book after book you managed to get a decent portion of it placed into piles that you could later arrange onto shelves.

By then you were in need of a break and made your way to the nearest coffee shop. Maru, as she always did, followed you to the front door of the shop where you told her to wait as you made your order.

When you get your drink you made your way outside where you saw Maru with a stranger, petting and praising her as they gently gave her pets on the head. You let the stranger continue petting Maru as you walk past, not wanting to disturb them and too shy to claim ownership on a neighborhood cat.

Although, you hadn’t noticed that Maru had quickly gotten up to follow you, which in return led the stranger to follow Maru.

You had already situated yourself in the back ready to go back to work when you begin to hear someone’s footsteps.

“Huh, never thought a cat would be into books.” They said. This remark made you smirk, intrigued by this stranger already.

Maru eventually walks in and sits right next to you. You immediately go to pet her before greeting the stranger that had walked in right behind.

“Hi, are you a friend of Maru’s?” You jokingly ask them. You get a good look at them. You thought they were cute, but you can’t help but to be drawn to the I will not come home drunk tee shirt they had on.

“Oh I suppose I could be. We just met and I kind of tagged along.” They answer hesitantly, a little embarrassed that they just followed a cat they don’t even know.

“Are you drunk now? Is that why you followed a cat into a random bookstore?” When you say this their face is confused before looking down and realizing that their shirt might make for a weird first impression.

“I swear I’m a hundred percent sober, your cats just adorable and I couldn’t get enough of her.” They frantically say to try and regain some control of the conversation.

“Okay, I believe you, but how do I know you’re not some weird cat stalker?” Maru at this point has cuddled up next to you taking a nap. A slight pause in the conversation arose when they began to think of their response.

“How do you know the cat isn’t the one stalking you?” Now you’re confused.

“What?”

“She follows you every where I’m guessing, considering how easy it was for her to follow you here today, she must do it pretty often. That being said, why don’t you ever think she’s the one stalking you?” You give one look at the sleeping Maru, stunned and speechless that you’ve never considered this and yet it took just a few seconds for a stranger to point it out to you.

“Even if she was a stalker, I don’t think I’d mind. She’s too cute and she helps me with the books. If you ask me I think that’s a fair price to pay for a little cat stalking.”

“Well if that’s your answer I think I’d have to confess that I’ve seen you around and maybe I was stalking you a little bit and sort of followed you and her here because I thought you were attractive. Now that I’m saying that out loud it is weird, but I swear if you told me to leave and forget about all this I’d understand. I’m just saying stuff now-“ their voice got quieter in hopes that not speaking at all could help them out of their never ending spew. You let out a little chuckle charmed by how dorky but also sweet their confession was.

“You’d be right in saying that I could banish you from this shop, but truthfully I think you’re too cute to just let you leave. How about we go out for coffee tomorrow and you can stalk me all you like.” You say smiling at them.

“Great, that sounds good. Not the stalking bit, just the coffee.” Once again their voice quiets down the moment they realize they’re not being as cool and collected as they originally hoped. You even hear a mumble of a “Great now I think I’m just embarrassing myself.”

You nod at them, smiling at how entertaining they are when they’re nervous. You then pull out a pen and a little notepad that was next to you. On the paper you write your name and number and tore the paper out for them. “My names y/n by the way.”

They take the paper, looking down at it with pure joy plastered on their face. “Thanks, I’m Bella.”

They fold the piece of paper and place it in their pocket.

“So I’ll see then, I promise no more stalking for both you and Maru. Okay, bye y/n. Bye Maru!” You two wave each other goodbye as they walk out of the store. You’re overjoyed and your smile hasn’t left your face since they walked in.

“Jeez Maru, I didn’t think you’d be such a good wingman.”

You give Maru all the pets they desire before going back to work.

[specialagentlokitty]

Lokittys 2024 prompts

“I knew that you were from the beginning, I could see the blood on your hands. You’re like me.”

“You will always be a monster.” “Maybe, but like humans we can choose what we want to be.”

“He/she/they carry more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. He/she/they walked through hell a thousand times.” “Why are you telling me this?” “Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in his/her’s/their eyes is when he/she/they saw you.”

“I wish you always remember me as I was, that I once existed. Will you remember that I stood here with you like this?”

“There is no such thing as beautifully broken.” “Then what is it called?” “It’s called being torn apart from the inside out, and learning how to live.”

“Tell me something about you.” “All I’ve ever loved, I’ve loved alone.”

“You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.”

“Can I be honest about something?” “There’s a first time for everything, sure.” “There are no words that describe how I feel about you, no words to describe how deeply, passionately, insanely in love with you I am.”

“Why is he/she/they like this?” “All the coldest, rudest people were once as beautiful as flowers, as warm as the sun.”

“I fear if you get too close you’ll see me for who I really am, I don’t want you to see me for that.”

“Why does it hurt..?”

“Let pain come, let it wash over you, then let it leave.”

“You exist, and that in itself is beautiful.”

“You deserve a love so deep it roots itself into your very soul, reminds you that out there somebody who thinks of you and sees the world in your smile.”

“What is it about (Y/N) you love so much?” “Aside from being the most spectacular person I have ever met, everything. I just wish there was a way I could say that.” “Turn around.”

“Would you come find me?” “I’ll cross the entire earth if I have to.”

“Will you meet me in the place where we first met?”

“I’ve been told that apparently I love you.” “See, I want to say good for you but that doesn’t seem like the appropriate response.” “No, it really wouldn’t. But if you want to say it then that’s okay.” “Good for you.”

“Give me money.” “Do I like like a bank to you?” “Do you have money?” “Yes?” “Then yes.”

“I can’t read, you know that right?” “You can read, stop lying and help.”

“I didn’t know you were married, I can’t believe it! You didn’t tell me?!” “Wait until you find out who actually agreed to marry me.”

“Let’s make a bet.” “No!” “Why?” “Because somehow you always win!”

“I once sold my soul.” “Hard to believe you had a soul in the first place.”

“Can you use magic?” “I feel unsafe answering that.”

“You make me want to cry.” “Like, in a you’re happy to see me way?” “I said what I said.” “Is that a good or bad thing?!”

“Look, in life you either find a way or make a way, but if you stand there and do nothing, then you’ll never get where you want to be.”

“I need a parent or guardian to sign this.” “I’m neither.” “You’re close enough, sign it.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I was hit by a car once, not fun.” “Not what I was expecting. Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Do you want a hug?” “No, that involves physical contact and that’s gross.” “We are quite literally married. If you’re angry at me just tell me.”

“Why is it every time I come here you seem to be here too?” “I study here.” “In detention?”

“What was the last thing he/she/they said to you?” “Ask if we could get married.”

“Can I stay at yours?” “You don’t need to ask.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” “Home…”

“I don’t remember you… I’m sorry…” “that’s alright, how about we start again, from square one?”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“I can’t do this… be this anymore…”

“I never asked for any of this!”

“Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Don’t go… stay with me..”

“I think when you’re in love, and that person in return loves you, it is the most beautiful thing in the world. The most painful thing.”

“All my heartache is because of you!”

“I’m.. I’m sorry…” “it’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“If you want the world then it’s yours, whatever you want I’ll get it for you.”

“Come with me.” “Where?” “Anywhere but here.”

“I have to do this, I have to do it alone.” “No you don’t..”

“You’re all alone.” “I never go anywhere alone.”

“You’re not so scary.” “I’m not?”

“You’re the one!” “What?” “You are everything I never knew I needed, everything I never knew I wanted. You are the one person I want for the rest of my life, to be by my side.”

“Did you just punch me in the face?” “I would say sorry but that’s a lie.”

“How long have you been waiting?” “Hundreds of years.”

“I love the sound of your laugh.”

“What’s your favourite thing in this world?” “You.”

“He/she/they would hurt anybody, everybody, but you’re the one person he/she/they just can’t hurt.”

“You are the one thing that keeps me sane.”

“So, want to start a riot?” “Sometimes I worry about you.”

“Are you drunk?” “Extremely.”

“I swear to god I’m going to knock you out one day.”

“Are you an Angel!” “No, the opposite actually, demon.”

“Why do you insist on destroying all my things?”

“Stop throwing things!” “No!”

“Warn a person before walking up to them!”

“My mother warned me about people like you.” “Did you listen?” “No, I never was any good at that.”

“I’m pumped up on caffeine and I feel like my heart is going to explode.” “Yes, no more caffeine for you.”

“You’re very British.” “I.. don’t know if that’s an insult…”

“Why do you insist on breaking all the rules?”

“You stole my car?” “You left your keys unguarded.” “So you stole them?”

“Even if nobody else believes you I do.” “Really?” “Of course.”

“You will always be the most important part of my life.”

“Thank you.” “For what?” “For showing me what it’s like to be human…”

[verdemoun]

You mentioned how Bessie and Hosea die post-timewarp (and I will never forgive you for that/j/nm) but how does everyone else die? And is there a party when Micah dies as Lenny comments in the first chapter?

did you know despite the number of hitlists i have been placed on since making that post 25% of my inbox is people asking about the modern era deaths in timewarp au

i have not put that much thought into it most of them get to old age and pass away peacefully by age might throw in a few accidents and tragedies for the angst lmao can you imagine john dying before he had a chance to properly mend his relationship with jack again

micah is one of the earlier ones to die either poor health choices (smoking, alcohol, cholesterol take your pick) or actually pissing off the wrong guy and just getting shot again (my real otp is micah x a bullet). while a lot of the gang weren't necessarily surprised or upset when he goes he was still kind of part of the modern gang? they still invited him to things? like going through dying only to reawaken in modern era is a hell of a bonding experience and micah did actually change slightly for the better after losing whatever sense of power and control he felt being an outlaw in canon era.

also getting to know micah hearing more of his campfire stories and offhanded comments about his past a lot of the boys came to appreciate yeah micah is an ass who is responsible for the bad choices he made but it could have easily been any one of them in his place. especially arthur, who has a similarly toxic and abusive relationship with bio father, who was also an outlaw and no doubt would have raised him identically to how micah's father raised him if he had the chance, really came to acknowledge that he could have easily become as awful as micah if not for the few good people he had in his life. they might as well have grown up in the same house, except one went out the front door and one went out the back.

it is an appropriately somber affair even though no one can think of a nice thing to say about him but bill does step forward to offer a few words 'well, er, micah was a bastard. a right, unpleasant, genuinely evil bastard at times... but y'know there were some good times too. he and arthur saved my life in rhodes, long time ago now. s'pose we were buddies at the end of the day. and - and i ain't here to defend him - but maybe in another life where he wasn't as fucked in the head, we could've been proper friends. think i would've liked that'

most of the gang agreed.

except sadie you'd think she won the lotto she made a cake and stayed at home drinking, celebrating and dancing with jake instead of going to the funeral (who was for the most part just confused but glad to see his wife so happy)

[justsomewritingblog]

Avatar: TLA (Part 12)

Request:  None

Requested By:  Nobody

Pairing:  Zuko x reader

Summary:  The Avatar State

Warnings:  This one’s got some peril in it, guys.

A/N:  It’s an oofer.  Because it hasn’t been long enough since the last one.

Word Count:  2K+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Katara, I want you to have this.”  Master Pakku said, holding out a vial.  “This amulet contains water from the spirit oasis.  The water had unique properties.  Don’t lose it.”

Katara stepped forward and gave him a small hug.  “Thank you, Master Pakku.”

“Aang, these scrolls will help you master waterbending.”  He said as the boy stepped forward.  He handed him a case, full of scrolls.  “But remember, they’re no substitute for a real master.”  Aang looked up at Katara and nodded, climbing the bison as well.

“Sokka.”

He stepped forward, a grin on his face.  Master Pakku patted his shoulder.

“Take care, son.”  He said, walking off.  Sokka frowned.  “Fly straight to the Earth Kingdom base to the East of here.”  He instructed.  “General Fong will provide you with an escort to Omashu.”

Sokka climbed Appa as well, and you watched, a small frown on your own face.

“There you’ll be safe to begin your earthbending training with King Bumi.”  He finished.  Aang picked up the reigns, turning to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”  He asked.  You looked down.

“Aang, I’d love to, but you don’t really need me.”  You told him.  “Then again, no one ever does.”  You muttered under your breath.  “Besides, you already have a waterbending teacher.”  You said, gesturing at Katara.

Aang frowned.  “If you’re sure.”

You nodded.

“Appa, yip yip.”  Aang instructed, flicking the reigns.  The bison remained standing.  “Appa, yip yip.”  He said again.  Still no response.  “Appa?  What’s wrong, buddy?”

The bison walked over to you and ran his tongue up your body.  You smiled, patting his head.

“I think he wants you to come with us.”  Aang admitted.

“Are you sure?  Maybe he’s just tired.”

“You have to come with us.  If Appa doesn’t move, I can’t do my Avatar duties.”  Aang said, an impish smirk on his face.  You glared at him, though everyone could tell there was no anger behind it.

“Ugh.  Fine.”  You muttered dramatically.  “Just let me say goodbye first.”  The gaang nodded and you turned, facing Liam.  “I have to go.  You heard what he said.”

Liam smiled.  “Take care, Y/n.”  He wrapped his arms around you in a hug.  You pulled away and turned to Master Pakku, bowing.

“I didn’t have anything for you.  I didn’t expect you to leave.”

“Well.”  You shrugged, not finding an appropriate response.  “It’s alright.”  You concluded.

“Good luck, Y/n.”

You bowed again and climbed on Appa.

“Appa, yip yip.”  Aang said.  The bison leapt into the air and Aang grinned back at you.  You were unable to keep the grin off your face as well.  Katara leaned over the side of the saddle.

“Say hi to Gran-gran for me!”  She shouted at Pakku.  You did a double-take.

“Wait, what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There it is!”  Sokka shouted suddenly.  Sure enough, there it was.  Appa landed and you all climbed off, immediately being greeted by a man.

“Welcome, Avatar Aang!”  He bowed, as did the small army behind him.  “I am General Fong.  And welcome to all of you!  Great heroes!  Appa.  Momo.  Brave Sokka.”

Sokka puffed his chest out slightly at this.

“The mighty Katara.”

“Mighty Katara?”  She asked.  “I like that.”

“And Y/n.”

You kept a straight face, not at all impressed with your title.  Suddenly, fireworks went off.  You all turned to look at them.

“Not bad, not bad.”  Sokka mused.

You were soon led inside, where you all sat in a great hall, General Fong at a seat before you.

“Avatar Aang, we were all amazed at the stories how you single-handedly wiped out an entire fire navy fleet at the North Pole.  I can’t imagine what it feels like to wield such devastating power.  It’s an awesome responsibility.”

“I try not to think about it too much.”  Aang replied innocently.  You bit back a laugh.

“Avatar, you’re ready to face the Firelord now.”

“What!?”  Aang exclaimed.  “No I’m not!”

“Aang still needs to master all four elements.”  Katara explained.

“Actually, he’s mastered air, so technically-” You cut yourself off, seeing everyone’s faces.  You looked down at your hands.

“With the kind of power he possesses, power enough to destroy hundreds of battleships in a matter of minutes, he could defeat the Firelord, now!!”

“Someone’s delusional.”  You mumbled.

“But sir, the thing is, Aang can only do those things when he’s in the Avatar state.”  Sokka informed, ignoring your comment.  Aang started to speak as well

“See, it’s this special state where-”

“I’m well aware.  Your eyes and tattoos glow, and you’re able to summon unbelievable power.”   Fong said, cutting him off.  “Without you we’d be slaughtered before we even reached their shores.  But with you leading the way, as the ultimate weapon, we can cut a path right through to the heart of the firenation.”

“Right, but I don’t know how to get in or out of the Avatar state, much less what to do when I’m there.”  Aang defended.

“So it’s decided then.  I’ll help you figure out how to get into the Avatar state, and then you’ll face your destiny.”

You abruptly stood and pointed an accusatory finger at him.  “We didn’t decide anything!  And we will not have you telling the Avatar how he should go about this fight!”  You yelled.  Your friends stood as well.

“Y/n’s right.  We already have a plan.  Aang’s perusing his destiny his way.”  Katara added.

“Well.  While you take your time learning the elements, the war goes on.”  There was a moment of silence.  “May I show you something?”  He led Aang to a window.  “That’s the infirmary.  Those soldiers are the lucky ones.  They came back.  Every day the firenation takes lives.  People are dying, Aang.  You could end it.”

You crossed your arms.  “This is emotional manipulation.”

“This is war.”  He retorted.

“So if Aang goes in, unprepared, and dies, what happens then?”  You argued back, raising an eyebrow, challenging him.  He said nothing, only turned to Aang.

“Think about it.”

You burned holes in the back of his head as you watched him walk away.  You knew with one-hundred percent certainty that he’d definitely gotten to your friend.  He was gonna get himself killed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They gave you all a place to sleep.  It was a room with four beds, one on each wall.  Your eyes cracked open when you heard the door.  Aang entered, sitting on his bed.  Katara and Sokka were already awake.

“I told the General I’d help him.”  Aang said quietly.  “By going into the Avatar state.”  You sighed, seeing this coming.

“Aang, no.”  Katara said, sitting up.  “This is not the right way.”

“Why not?”  Sokka asked.  You glared at him.  “Remember when he took out the fire navy?  That was incredible.”

“There’s a right way to do this.”  Katara advised, ignoring her brother.  “Practice, study, and discipline.”

“Or just glow it up, and stomp that Firelord.”  Sokka replied.

“If you two meatheads want to throw away everything we’ve worked for, fine.  Go ahead and ‘glow it up’!”  Katara yelled, walking out of the room.

“Katara, I’m just being realistic.”  Aang defended.

“Aang, this is suicide.  You do know just how powerful the Firelord is, right?”

“I don’t have time to do this the right way.”

“Aang, or you could die.  And make the world worse until you regenerate and by the time the next Avatar grows old enough to face him, it’ll be too late.”  You scolded, standing, now fully awake, and following Katara out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, they clearly didn’t listen to you or Katara, as you saw the three of them making their way outside to start trying things.  You rolled your eyes and followed, but parted from them to think.

You sat on a rock, not too far from them, only about the length of four rooms, you’d say, and watched the flow of a river below.  “Why are men so stupid?”  You asked yourself.  Your brain involuntarily flipped back to Zuko.  You wondered how he was doing.  You wondered if he was even still alive.  You were deep in thought when Aang zipped by you on his air-scooter, traveling in circles around you.

He was talking so fast you could barely understand him.  You managed to make out the words ‘Avatar state’, ‘can’t tell’, and ‘energy-boosting tea’.  You sighed, standing and walking away.

You had ventured down the cliff, where you now sat on a rock, its peak just above the water level.  It was getting late, but you couldn’t understand why Aang was being so foolish.  Well, you understood where he was coming from, but why he would risk everything still baffled you.  You sighed and looked down at your reflection in the water.  You saw your reflection, and placed your hand in it, the water’s chill immediately reaching your fingertips.  You quickly withdrew your hand as if you’d been burned, the sudden contrast reminding you of when you chased Aang and Zuko at the North Pole.

You weren’t sure why your brain liked to think about him so much, but you weren’t a fan.  You stared down at your reflection, seeing Zuko’s instead.  You gasped and spun around, seeing nothing.  You looked back down at the water and saw only your reflection.  Your eyes widened before narrowing, and you slapped the water, the image becoming hard to see.  You stood, seeing as it was sunset, and deciding that your mind needed a break, headed back.

~~~~~~~~~

You awoke early, for a reason you were unsure of.  You closed your eyes again, but not feeling the pleasant pull of sleep coming back to you, you sat up and ventured outside.  You groaned when you realized you were up before the sun was.  You could see a sliver of it peeking out of the ground.

You let out a sigh and climbed atop the railing, sitting there and watching it rise, seeing as you had nothing better to do.  You were enjoying the peace and quiet when you felt a push.  You let out a yelp and leaned backwards, bumping into a chest.  You craned your neck to look up, seeing Sokka’s smirking face.

“You’re up early.”  He commented.

“Where you trying to kill me?”  You questioned, ignoring his comment.

“No.”  He replied innocently.  “I was just testing your reflexes.”

“And if they weren’t quick enough?”  You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I would have caught you.”  He assured.  You sent him a critical, unconvinced look, but let it be.  “Come on.  Aang’s going to talk to the General.”  He informed.  You swung your legs around, and hopped off, following Sokka.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“The thing is, I don’t think we’ll ever be able to trigger it on purpose.”  Aang explained.  “So I guess that’s it.”

“You sure I can’t change your mind?”

“I’m sure.  I can only reach the Avatar state when I’m in genuine danger.”  He clarified further.  Your eyes scanned the General’s face, practically seeing the gears turning in his head.  It made you uneasy.

“I see.  I was afraid you’d say that.”  He said.  Your eyes widened, having seen something bad coming.  Before you knew what was happening, his desk was flying at Aang, sending him backwards.

“Aang!”  You and Sokka shouted, attempting to go after him.  Guards grabbed your arms, keeping you in place.  You struggled, but they used earthbending to cement your feet in the ground.  You could only watch as Aang flew out of the building.  Your eyes widened in terror, and you let out a yell.  The General walked to the edge, where Aang had just disappeared from view, and shouted an order.

“Men!  Attack the Avatar!”  He instructed.  Panic took over every part of your body.  You struggled again, and head-butted the guards, knocking them backwards.  You summoned the water from your canteen and shot it at them, freezing it.  You then used the little bit of left over water to slice at the earth surrounding your feet.  Sokka knocked out his guards, and pulled his club out, helping you.

“Thanks.”  You said, once your feet were released.  “I weakened it for you, though.”  You added, running to the giant hole in the wall, Sokka close behind, just in time to see four guards shoot giant earth circles at Aang.  He jumped, dodging them.  They continued trying to weaken him, but he avoided everything they threw at him…literally.

“You can’t run forever!”  The General shouted, using his earthbending to pull Aang forward.

“You can’t fight forever!”  Aang retorted, dodging another blow.  He had a point, but there were a lot more of them, than there were of him.  You sighed, bending the water out of your canteen, freezing it so there was a slope to the ground.  You slid down it, as Sokka took the stairs, meeting up with Katara.

They joined you and Aang in the fight, helping to disarm some of the soldiers.

“Maybe you can avoid me,” the General started, “but she can’t.”  He was looking at Katara when he said it.  Katara shot water at him, but he raised the earth, collecting the water, before making Katara sink to her knees.  It was as if she was in quicksand.  She struggled.

“I can’t move!”  She alerted.

“Don’t hurt her!”  Aang pleaded, jumping down and sending a gust of wind that the General blocked.  Katara sunk to her waist.

“Katara!  No!”  You heard Sokka yell.  He rode the bird-thing (as he called it) forward, but the General sunk its feet in quicksand as well, sending Sokka flying into one of the circle shapes.

“Stop this!  You have to let her go!”  Aang said, taking ahold of the General’s arm.

“You could save her if you were in the Avatar state!”  He retorted.

“I’m trying!  I’m trying!”

“Aang!  I’m sinking!”  Katara informed.  She had sunk to her chest.  You shot water at him, but you were quickly trapped in a rock as well, rendering you immobile.

“I don’t see glowing!”

Katara sank till only her head was viewable.  “Please!”

“You don’t need to do this!”  Aang pleaded, sinking down to his knees as well.

“Apparently, I do.”

Katara disappeared.  Aang lunged at the spot where Katara had just vanished from.  He turned around, eyes and tattoos glowing, a deep scowl on his face.  To be honest, you feared for the General’s life.  The General, however, did not.

“It worked!  It worked!”  He yelled.  Aang stood, wind blowing around him.  Fong’s face went from one to victory and joy, to one of terror.  Aang shot a huge wind gust at him, sending him flying backwards, before he rose into the air.  The General stood, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Avatar Aang!!  Can you hear me!!?  Your friend is safe!!”  Katara emerged from the ground, gasping for air.  “It was just a trick to trigger the Avatar state!!”  He informed.  “And it worked!!”

Aang slammed down on the ground, using earthbending to knock General Fong and all of his men backwards.  Your eyes widened.  Earthbending?  Already?  The earth around you sank back into the ground, letting you free.  The ground leveled, taking the buildings with it.  The glowing soon stopped, and Aang collapsed.  He looked around, noticing the damage.  By the time you shook yourself out of your shock and fear, Katara was by his side, comforting him.  You walked over to Sokka, pulling him out.

“Are you joking!?  That was almost perfect!  We’ll just have to find a way to control you when you’re like that.”

You turned, hearing the General’s voice.

“You’re out of your mind.”  Aang told him.

“I guess we’ll figure it out on the way to the firenation.”  He said, ignoring Aang’s comment.  Sokka rode over on the bird-horse, and hit the General over the head with the butt of his club, knocking him unconscious.

“Anybody got a problem with that?”  He asked.  The guards hurriedly shook their heads.  You smirked softly.

“Do you still want an escort to Omashu?”  One of them asked.  You all looked at each other.

“I think we’re all set.”  Katara informed.

“Thank you, though.”  You added, following your friends.  You all climbed aboard Appa, lifting in the air and setting course for Omashu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n:  I TOTALLY FORGOT I DIDN'T POST THESE YET!

[padfootagain]

Something Good (VIII)

Chapter 8: Denial

Hi everyone! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series! I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it!

Things are about to get serious ehehehehhehehe!!! (Also, it features the biggest lie ever written in a fanfiction, let me tell you, the title of this chapter is very appropriate…)

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none! Slow burn, professor AU.

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 2993

Masterlist for the series - Ben Barnes's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Maybe, just maybe… this idea of yours with musicals was a little bit more complicated than you thought it would be.

As you stared at the long list of questions you and the students had written on the blackboard, you kind of wondered how you could manage all this.

By your side, Ben was getting a little nervous as well, although he remained calmer than you were. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the one who had had this idea of musicals in the first place, and so he didn’t feel as responsible as you did. Or maybe he was used to asking himself all these questions after working on the club for several years.

No matter why, Ben was staring at the blackboard, rolling a pencil between his fingers, thinking hard.

“I think the most important issue we need to tackle is the music, though,” David said, sipping on a coffee.

“I reckon there’s a choir and a band in the school, right?” you asked, thinking hard. “Perhaps they could help?”

Ben nodded.

“We can ask them. If any of you have friends who would like to join, that could be great…”

“But this… all of this would work for the performance, and some repetitions along the year, but I can’t imagine that we could gather everyone on a weekly basis. And anyway… there are weeks during which we’ll have to work on the staging, on the acting… we can’t ask people to come for two full hours if we only need their help for ten minutes,” you argued. “We need musicians with us, part of the group.”

“Does any of you play an instrument?” Giselle asked the group.

Nathaniel raised his hand.

“I play the guitar.”

“And I play the clarinet,” added Betty, one of the new students.

A couple others played the guitar.

“What about you, Y/N?” David asked, but you shook your head.

“I don’t play any instrument. I can sing, that’s pretty much it. Ben?”

Your colleague looked up at you again, as he had seemed lost in thought for a couple of minutes.

“I play the drums and the piano, some guitar too. I can play during our repetitions.”

You grinned at him.

“Awesome!”

“We should try singing, and decide which roles we want to play,” Giselle proposed.

“Before that, shouldn’t we choose the songs?” David asked.

“Well, I reckon we should keep most of the songs of the musical, but… the whole project was based on the idea to use popular songs and to integrate them in a story. We could add our own, for sure,” Ben proposed, and all were enthusiastic.

“We must keep El Tango de Roxanne though,” you argued. “I am using my authority to save this one.”

“And what an authority, huh?” Ben teased you, making everyone laugh.

“Clearly, you’ve never seen me ask my daughter to clean her room,” you fought back.

“I bet she doesn’t do it.”

“She doesn’t, you’re right.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, while your colleague let out an earnest laugh.

It was nice. The whole session with the club was nice, and… you hated to admit it but… spending this time with Ben was nice too. Very nice, indeed…

“Let’s make a list,” Ben said, grabbing his notebook and pushing his glasses a little higher on his nose.

He did every time he started writing something, you had noticed that… you found it… endearing, for some reason…

You hurried to push the thought away, and cleared your throat instead.

“Elephant Love Medley stays,” decided Ben. “I’m using my authority on this one. El Tango de Roxanne too…”

“Come What May,” added John, one of your new recruits, who seemed very shy, his voice barely audible at all.

Ben added a few songs to the list, but there was some room for new ones. You spent some time thinking about it.

“Hey, didn’t you want to play The Sound of Music?” Nathaniel said, pointing at you. “I remember there are references and stuff in the movie, but we haven’t kept the song. Maybe we could add a song from that.”

“Which one?” asked Ben.

But Nathaniel shrugged.

You took a look at the list. You didn’t have many highly-romantic songs. You had only kept Come What May and Elephant Love Medley… but you reckoned that another romantic scene could work…

“Something romantic?” you asked.

“Why not?”

“Or maybe that one where she likes stuff!” Roberta proposed, struggling to remember the title of the song.

“Favourite Things?” Ben offered, and the girl squealed in approval.

“Yes! That’s it! That’s a fun song!”

You shrugged, a few people nodded.

“You were thinking about something romantic?” Ben asked, turning to you. “We could add a romantic scene. Some of the most intimate scenes will be difficult to stage, we don’t have the same set or anything of the kind, we’re much more limited on stage compared to cinema. We could replace some of these scenes with one of our own, around a new song. What did you have in mind?”

He was staring at you, gaze intense and unwavering. You liked that about him, the fact that whenever he listened to someone, it was with his full attention. You felt like your opinion mattered. You couldn’t help but draw a comparison with your ex-husband. It was a nice change…

You thought about it for a second, before answering, crossing your arms before your chest and leaning against the table behind you.

“We could do a romantic scene… quite similar to Something Good. They could dance, get closer, and kind of confess this way. That’s romantic.”

“This scene is so cute…” Roberta nodded, a dreamy smile on her face.

Ben couldn’t refrain a chuckle at her reaction, and he pondered the question for a moment. But he ended up nodding, writing the title down.

“That’s a good idea, it could work.”

The alarm on your phone rang. It had been two hours already, it was time to call it a day.

“Alright,” Ben said, closing his notebook and offering the group a smile. “We’ll appoint the roles next time. We’ll try some singing, we should all prepare for the same one, let’s say… El Tango de Roxanne, as it’s apparently Y/N’s favourite…”

“Yes!” you cheered, making everyone chuckle.

“And remember that we’ll only see each other in November now! Because next week, no repetition.”

“Really? Why?” Giselle asked, disappointed.

“Y/N and I do have a job outside of this club, you know?” Ben answered, amused. “We’ll be off to London to work on our research. But then again, this classroom is still booked for us, you can gather here and work on the play if you want. As long as you don’t break anything…”

He turned his gaze to Nathaniel, who raised his hands as if innocent, the glimmering black polish on his nails catching the neon light.

“It happened once… and it wasn’t even really my fault.”

“Oh… I’m really curious to hear about this one!” you chimed.

“Let’s say that Nathaniel is not allowed to go anywhere near stage lights anymore…”

“Woops?” the boy said, making everyone laugh.

“Alright, all of you need to go to class,” you admonished, standing straighter again. “And we have to go back to our regular jobs, so, off you go!”

The students left, chatting excitedly and already making plans to gather the coming week even if their teachers would be away. You erased the blackboard while Ben was waiting for you to walk back to your offices. He seemed hesitant and you weren’t sure why. He was blushing, even. It was kind of… endearing…

You really had to stop your brain from making this kind of thoughts…

“Have you eaten before coming here?” Ben asked as you turned back towards him.

“No, I had classes this morning. I’m starving to be honest. I’ll eat something before our meeting, okay?”

“I haven’t eaten either. Would you like to join me?”

You were quite surprised by the offer, but you realised that it wasn’t an unwelcomed one.

“Okay, sure. I’ve brought something to eat.”

“I did too. Cafeteria?”

“Sure.”

You walked out of the classroom together, shy smiles on your lips, and both of you a little confused, a little hesitant. Still, when Ben looked at you, you seemed content, and it made him happy, for some reason…

Jasmine and Miles could barely believe their eyes.

You and Ben were sitting together, at a table, in the cafeteria, and… you seemed to be actually eating lunch together.

You were clearly chatting, and instead of shouting at each other or anything of the kind you just… laughed.

They exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“Since when do these two get along?” Miles asked, confusion painted all over his features. “I’m leaving for a couple of weeks, and all of a sudden everything changes around here?”

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea! Y/N hasn’t told me anything.”

“And Ben hasn’t told me anything either…”

“What happened to them?”

“It is a good thing though, if these two can finally get along.”

“Should we… leave them be, then?”

Miles pondered the question, still hiding with Jasmine in the corridor, right before the cafeteria. He peered inside once more.

“We should… but I’m too curious.”

“Me too… I bet your husband is going to be asking for details, anyway.”

“Oh, yes, George will love this!”

Miles walked inside the room with an excited grin, Jasmine on his heels.

Ben welcomed his colleagues with a bright smile, happy to see Miles again.

“So… what do we have here?” Jasmine teased, sitting down next to you and stealing some of your bread.

“One researcher who’s supposed to be working, and a retired man who’s supposed to be enjoying his husband?” you proposed, making Ben chuckle.

Miles looked at his younger friend with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow.

“Many things have changed since the last time I came,” he said, ignoring your sarcasm.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, although he was perfectly aware of what Miles meant.

“None of you is frowning, looking desperate, or shouting… You almost look civilized!” Jasmine answered, and this time you swatted her hand away when she tried to get more of your food.

“We are civilized.”

“Together?”

You and Ben both rolled your eyes, but you didn’t fail to notice the way Ben was blushing. Colour spreading across his nose, his cheeks, and all the way up to the tips of his ears. You found it adorable…

“We had a bad start,” Ben conceded. “But we’re… okay now, right?”

You nodded, taking a bite of your salad.

“Real colleagues. Professional.”

“Good! That’s a lot of progress already for the two of you.”

You kept on chatting together for a while, until both your and Ben’s plates were empty. You were to have a meeting to prepare your stay in London, but you both agreed to take a twenty-minutes break before that. You would meet up in Ben’s office to go back to work.

Miles didn’t lose a second, as soon as he was alone with his younger friend in his office, he sat down and bombarded him with questions.

“Ben, I want to know everything that has happened between you and Y/N in the past few weeks! Every detail! Fire away!”

Ben laughed at his friend’s antics, taking a seat as well.

“Nothing interesting happened, I can assure you,” answered Ben. “We simply… spent more time together, and… buried the hatchet. That’s all.”

“You couldn’t stand each other at the beginning of the year, and now you’re having lunch together! And nothing happened?”

“No! I mean… I don’t know. We didn’t get along at the beginning, it was a bit hard but then we had to work together and… we’ve found that we…”

“That you?” Miles encouraged him eagerly.

“That we… are not so dissimilar after all.”

Ben let his gaze get lost over Miles shoulder, staring at nothing while his thoughts drifted back towards your shared moments through the last few weeks.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, she is… insufferable, sometimes. She is… disorganised most of the time, and always making silly jokes, and she is clumsy as hell, although… that’s kind of… adorable, to be honest…”

A dreamy smile appeared on his features, before he would shake himself, and look at his friend again.

“But nothing has happened, really. We’ve simply become professional around one another.”

But Miles was staring at his young friend with a wicked grin.

“What?” Ben frowned. “Do I have some food on my face?”

“You like her.”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“She’s competent. More than I thought she would be. And she’s great with the kids at the club, which is all that truly matters.”

“No, Ben. You like her.”

“What?!”

“You like her!”

Ben scoffed, crossing his arms before his chest, suddenly defensive and looking at his former colleague as if he had gone mad.

“Absolutely not! Are you crazy?”

“You do seem… infatuated.”

“Infatuated? Me? With Y/N? Retirement really doesn’t suit you. Are you alright?”

“Ben… you’ve literally zoned out as you were talking about her with the most idiotic smile on your lips – no offence. And you’ve just said that she was -and I quote- ‘adorable’.”

“I did not… that was not what I meant…”

“So you don’t think that she’s adorable?”

“Well… no! I mean… she’s very clumsy and that’s… quite… cute…”

Ben heaved a frustrated sigh.

“You were blushing at lunch,” Miles went on.

“I did not!”

“You did.”

“Only because I felt embarrassed. Because of you. Not her. I do not blush because of Y/N.”

“Don’t you think she’s an attractive woman?”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“I am not blind, Miles. Even you can’t deny that she’s quite… pretty. Beautiful, even…”

He cleared his throat.

“Anyone with two functioning eyes would notice that, it doesn’t mean I’m attracted to her.”

“You’re not?”

“Don’t you think she’s a beautiful woman?”

“I do believe she is beautiful. Because as you said, I have two functioning eyes. But as a gay man, and a happily married one, I do not feel the need to stare at her and to blush every time she looks my way.”

“I do not do that!”

“Yes, you do. You did throughout the entire lunch.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“So you think she’s adorable, you think she’s cute, you think she’s beautiful…”

“Miles…” Ben glared at him.

“But you’re not interested?”

“No, I’m not.”

Miles nodded, clearly unconvinced.

“You know what professionals call that?”

“What kind of professionals? Matchmakers?”

“Denial,” Miles answered his own question, ignoring Ben’s sarcasm. “That’s pure denial we have here, Ben.”

“Absolutely not. I am happy on my own. I don’t want to have a relationship. I don’t want to be infatuated with anyone. I don’t want to think about Y/N this way. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good.”

But Miles shook his head, heaving a sigh.

This boy, really…

“Jasmine!”

You were sitting in her office, staring at her with wide eyes and a shock painted all over your features that almost looked like outrage.

“Of course, I don’t fancy him!”

“Why not? He’s super hot…”

“He…”

You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. Because this couldn’t be happening.

A few weeks before you were tempted by actually cutting Ben’s throat, how could Jasmine think for a mere second that now you fancied him!?

Outrageous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“I do not fancy Ben Barnes.”

“You do, though.”

“I do not! I barely know him at all! I’ve just started actually getting along with him… what… three weeks ago? Maybe even less!”

“Do you not find him attractive?”

You let out a frustrated grunt.

“Of course, I find him attractive, have you looked at the guy?! He is gorgeous. Yes, I do find him attractive. Doesn’t mean that I am actually attracted to him! And you’re forgetting how annoying he is! Like he is always so… organised, and he plans everything out, and he… always pushes his glasses up before writing something down and that’s… okay that one is kind of cute, actually, but… he blushes all the time. And that’s quite adorable. But he’s also very… He was very mean to me at the beginning! He isn’t anymore, that’s true. And he’s great with the kids at the club. He’s actually a lot of fun… But no! No! He is insufferable with his idiotic humour and his bright laughter and… argh!”

You threw your hands in the air, Jasmine still staring at you, sipping on her coffee.

“Wow… you’re so far gone,” Jasmine commented.

“I. Do. Not. Fancy. Ben. Barnes.”

“You’re infatuated.”

“Absolutely not! Besides… my life is a mess. And I have a daughter, and an ex-husband who drives me crazy and… no, no, no! I don’t want a relationship, or a fling, or anything. I am very happy and content being single. No, thank you!”

“You’re in denial. I’m surprised you’ve managed to convince yourself for so long…”

“Jas!”

“Alright, alright… as you wish.”

You checked your watch, and stood up.

“I have to go my meeting with Ben now.”

“Try not to snog him too hard.”

“One more word…”

“Alright! Alright!”

You strode outside the room, passing before Miles as he was heading towards Jasmine’s office.

When he entered, he had a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, pointing at the corridor where you had just disappeared, a murderous look on your face.

“She’s in denial. Want to know what I’ve just learnt?” Jasmine asked the retired man, overexcited.

“Oh, you will never believe what I’ve just learnt!” said Miles, sitting down in the chair you had occupied a moment before.

They spilled the tea at the same time, excited grins on their faces.

“He likes her!”

“She likes him!”

Their shouts and laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor.

**********************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @idek-what-to-put

[duhragonball]

I'm in the middle of reading Luffa's fight with Goku, and this question occurred to me. If you were asked how strong, fast, durable Luffa is, or how many planets she could destroy, what would you say? I know most authors don't think too much about that sorta thing, but I like hearing what they have to say about it nevertheless.

I wouldn't exactly call this a hypothetical situation, as people have asked me about Luffa's power level before. I've always been somewhat vague about it, because I was trying to save my answers for the Luffa/Goku fight that you're currently reading. (Thanks for reading it, by the way.)

My short answer is to reefer to this handy profile sheet I commissioned from the ever-talented Fraulein Pflaume some years ago. Let's just take a quick look and:

I don't know if you can read that text on the right, but it says "Power Level: Maximum". It's a glib answer, but I created the character as a response to Broly hype, so it seems appropriate.

Now that the Luffa/Goku fight chapters are finally published, if someone asked me about it, I'd direct them to that part of the fic. Because that's the first time you really see Luffa fighting at full power against a canon DBZ character in an even match. And maybe it shouldn't have taken 200+ chapters to get to that point, but look at where we've been...

The first 141 chapters are all set centuries before the events of Dragon Ball. There's no frame of reference because everyone is just a character I made up.

Chapters 142-187 feature a Luffa weakened by some unexplained trauma. Maybe it's "jet lag" from being pulled into the future, or the strain of using the Golden Oozaru form, but she's not at 100%, which is why she's struggling against Nappa one day and then holding her own against Buu the next.

Chapters 188-211 feature Luffa more or less back at her full strength, but it doesn't matter because her opponents' powers aren't well-defined. Beerus clears everybody. Demigra and Xeno Trunks are official characters in the franchise, but they've had so few battles that they're in the same boat as all of my own OCs.

In all of this, the only useful point of reference is Goku, who joins the fight against Demigra in Xenoverse 1. He's from a period of time between Battle of Gods and Res F, so we have a decent idea what we're dealing with here. And my goal from the beginning was to set up that Luffa/Goku fight and have them be evenly matched, so that's where Luffa tops out.

That's how I interpret power levels in the Dragon Ball universe. If I make up a new guy, and I want to figure out how powerful they are, I would try to figure out which arc or movie they could be in and stay relevant. I think everyone is accustomed to this idea. I feel like we all agree that Z-Broly vs. Bojack would be a pretty even match because Bojack's movie is sandwiched between two Z-Broly films. And they both lost to Cell-Games-Era Z-Fighters, so it's reasonable to say Perfect Cell is somewhere in that ballpark too.

Shoot, I forgot that Goku even did this himself when he took stock of Dabura's powers in the Buu Saga. The Supreme Kai was terrified at the prospect of fighting Dabura, but Goku explained that he was about the same as Cell, whom they fought against seven years earlier.

This is a much more natural way of addressing power scaling. Later, when Buu shows up, he sweeps Dabura, Gohan, and Vegeta like they're nothing, and that pretty much tells you exactly how high the stakes are. We don't need a scouter to understand Buu's strength and speed. Vegeta hit him with a lot of big power moves and Buu either shrugged it off, regenerated his injuries, or said that it hurt... a little.

I don't understand "How many planets?" as a measure of power. I mean, superficially, it's a cool question. "How many planets can your OC blow up?" That sounds badass, but what are we talking about, exactly? Like Frieza only destroyed two planets in canon. Three if you want to count Earth in Res F. But I'm pretty sure he could destroy a lot more if he had reason to. I don't think destroying more planets than someone else is a measure of power. It just means one of you had more planets you were mad at.

Unless we're talking like... in a row? I'm imagining Luffa lining up a shot like billiard balls. I guess that would be a greater feat of power, but it seems pretty wasteful. I know Cell threatened that his big Kamehameha at the end of the Cell Games could take out the entire solar system, but he never actually got to prove it, so I don't take that very seriously. It's kind of pointless to have characters slinging around that kind of power when they need planets to stand on for their fights.

I guess what I'm saying here is that I do think about this sort of thing a lot, but mainly because this particular character requires it. Luffa's role here is to be analogous to Goku, Vegeta, or Broly, so I have to constantly compare her to those kinds of characters. It's one thing to just have a Saiyan OC who happens to be able to go Super Saiyan. You can make them ridiculously OP, or just have them be kind of low-tier. I have a Time Patroller in the fic named Laddis, and he's a Super Saiyan, but he's just some jerk, which is kind of refreshing. I can do whatever I want with him, and it doesn't matter. Trunks is a big deal, but he's a practical guy, so no matter how strong he is I can just write him as a responsible leader and it works.

But Luffa has to be legendary, so there's this constant need to have her be inspiring or memorable, at least within her own fictional world. So I often look to Goku as a model of how to pull that off without overdoing it.

I don't know why it suddenly popped into my head just now, but a good example of what I'm going for is when Aragorn first appears in Lord of the Rings. The hobbits see him staring at them from the corner of the tavern, and there's this palpable aura of danger around the guy. The innkeeper says he's a Ranger named "Strider", and speaks of him in hushed tones. And over the course of the book you find out all of his backstory, but that first scene is enough to tell you he's no ordinary dude. Once they find out he's an ally they become pals, but in that moment of uncertainty there's no telling what he might do.

That's the sort of aura I want for Luffa, where she's just another Time Patroller on the team, but she's also got this aura about her that makes her seem unapproachable. That's what I'm striving for, and since it's a Dragon Ball fic, I need to give the character certain powers and abilities to make that work. But at the same time, no one ever asks how many planets Aragorn can destroy.

[aealrizen]

“You’ll be under the direction of Zeera Viden,” Benjamin continued, breaking the three away from their silent, internal conversation. “She’s a rough lady that used to follow Brigadier General Valin quite heavily, but I think she’s started to come around and not be as prejudiced. Don’t give her a reason to think you’re up to something, and she should remain cordial. If not, then just ditch her and come back. We can think of something else.”

The names meant nothing to Midas, but he didn’t miss the grimace Ian made when the general’s name was mentioned. Nor did his miss Whip’s obvious eye roll and noise of disgust. Peering over to the tablet Ian was looking at, Midas could only notice that the woman in the picture had a split eyebrow from a small but noticeable scar, and a nose piercing. Which was odd considering how much metal was coveted. She must be rather high rank. Or at least somehow rich enough to afford such trinkets. “Who’s Valin?” Midas asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Euh. Cyborg hater,” Whip huffed, sagging into his hand as it supported him by his cheek.

“We used to work with her during the war. She was never very fond of the idea of cybernetics in humans,” Ian clarified, forcing himself to be polite to not cause trouble.

“What was that she always said? ‘Humans were meant to use machines, not become them’,” Whip added, his voice growing forced in mocking as he repeated the words he’d heard so many times. “She was the reason we were on the front lines as often as we were. Stupid woman thought we were just tools and not actual people.”

Ian could only purse his lips in bitter memory, but still couldn’t bring himself to blame her for her actions. He and Whip had made an impressive team that was hard to match afterall. “Her words ended up motivating a lot of dehumanization propaganda towards cyborgs in the past. It was… easier for people to accept the war when it wasn’t against people.”

“Hmmm…,” Midas hummed, not quite sure how he felt about either side of the topic. He wasn’t sure Brigadier General Valin’s concerns were warranted considering the specialists of old had long ago learned there was a limit to how much cybernetics could be pumped into a person. There was a reason that full body cyborgs were considered as such despite only being 40% mechanical. Any more and the body started to shut down. Humans could be supported by machines, but they could never become them.

Or at least that was what he could remember from databases he’d examined of the old world. Where he’d gotten access to such databases was beyond his memory, but the facts were still there. Apparently there was still a concern though. Ignorance often did bring fear. Which made Midas have a question he didn’t think twice about asking out loud.

“What about you guys?” Midas spoke up, looking at Chipo and Benjamin. “Do you think we’re human?”

He didn’t realize it wasn’t an appropriate question to ask until Whip sat up from his slouch, and Ian tensed uncomfortably. “...Midas, that’s not really something you should ask…” Ian hushed, eyes flicking to the others.

“Why not?” Benjamin asked in return, breaking out of his own stunned surprise. “I think it’s one that should be asked more often. Maybe I’m not one to talk since I wasn’t even alive when cyborgs were more than just a rumour most times. But I think you’re all human enough to warrant being treated as such. It’s not like cyborgs have done anything worse than what some non cyborgs have.”

The response was somewhat surprising, but also reassuring. Enough that Midas gave Benjamin a more confident grin, not having much more to say after that. Even Whip seemed strangely softened by the comments, a faint smile as he also chose not to respond.

“...Thanks,” Ian spoke up quietly for the three of them, sliding the tablet slightly to let Benjamin know it was okay to continue.

Benjamin only gave a nod in response to the gratitude, reaching over to swipe the tablet to the next page of the file. “She’ll meet you at the south eastern gate in an hour. I’ve already notified her of the additional support, and let her know that you’ll be staying in Eutoli to help the citizens unload and store the supplies. That should be enough to let you stay for a while.”

“It’s perfect,” Ian acknowledged, skimming over the details listed in the digital documents. It seemed it was a standard shipment for the most part. But there were some items on the list that Ian knew would be worth a good enough price for scavengers to risk stealing. “Is there anything else we should know?”

The pause Benjamin made when asked to continue started to spike Midas’ anxiousness about him and this place again. But it seemed that he was just nervously considering if he should speak up or not. “Everything about the task is in the files, you’re free to copy them to a secondary device. But… I do have a more personal request, if you don’t mind,” he explained, hesitating long enough to get a response.

It made sense. Benjamin was doing them a huge favor by assigning them this job. It was fair for him to ask for something in return. Ian just hoped it was something they could give him, while Whip was expecting it to be reasonable. “What is it?” Ian prompted.

“My niece,” Benjamin started, getting a mix between a worried and amused grin. “If you see a girl named Aina Morna while you’re out and about could you give her a message for me? Let her know that she’s still welcome in our house any time, regardless of what the rest of the family says?”

It was a surprising request, and after a moment's shock Ian could only chuckle. “Sure thing. I’ll just send her a message now,” he agreed.

Before Benjamin could fully register what Ian had said, Midas was able to realize what Benjamin had just confirmed for him. “I knew it!” he burst, jumping to his feet and pointing his fork at Ian. “You act like a weirdo around her because you know her! Aina’s your-.... Uhhh,” he blurted, trailing off as he had to pass the family tree through his head to figure out the relationship. “Granddaughter?”

“Weirdo?” Ian repeated, mildly offended.

Whip could only snort in amusement. “Absolutely weird,” he confirmed to Ian. Considering how readily all the other kids had been adopted by Ian, it was strange that he’d always kept Aina at a distance. Most people just assumed it was because she had the C-Tech brand despite being largely ostracized by them as well. But apparently it had been because Aina was a relative to the woman that had demanded Ian not interact with her family line. Which Whip then tried to confirm the relation to Midas. “It would be granddaughter. But only if they’re from the same person.”

“Uh, she’s technically a great granddaughter like Olie,” Benjamin corrected, mildly confused. “Her mother is my sister. You know her?” HIs question didn’t sound upset, just horribly confused.

“Yeah, she fixed up my leg after a morillo bit it, and is always trying to get in my brain,” Midas answered bluntly, causing Whip to snort once again while Ian sighed and lowered his head to his hand.

“Midas. Phrasing,” Ian chided gently, shaking his head.

Benjamin flipped between being shocked with concern, to disgruntled confused, and then ended up snorting and laughing as Midas hummed in a half frozen state of recalibrating his mind.

“Uhhh. I mean she’s trying to figure out a way to directly communicate with my internal network like she does with Whip and Ian,” Midas clarified, staring at the table as he tried to figure out the more proper way to describe what his relation was to Aina.

“You two must get along great then,” Benjamin laughed heartily, not bothered at all by the weird comment once he realized what Midas had actually meant.

“Not really,” Midas admitted with a mildly scrunched nose, only able to remember them being awkwardly quiet around each other when they weren’t stumbling over words as he tried to talk to her without scaring her.

“Really? You’re so similar though,” Benjamin chuckled, rubbing a tear from his eye.

The comment caused Midas to scrunch his nose even more in bafflement, and Ian reached over to gently pull on his shoulder to get him to sit down again while Whip laughed loudly. “Finish your breakfast, we have to leave soon,” Ian prodded with a mild sigh.

That was enough to motivate Midas to return to his omelette after a short “Oh,” scooping another fork full into his mouth.

----

It would take awhile to transfer through the satellites, and Ian wasn’t sure if she would even get the message. But eventually Aina would get a notification for a message drop that would prompt her to break away from her current task to touch with a finger tap.

‘We met your Uncle Benjamin. He says you’re welcome home any time. Thanks for always watching out for us. And I’m sorry.’

It was a simple message, but one that caused Aina to stare at it for longer than necessary. They were words she felt like she’d heard before. At least the first part. But for some reason the last two sentences made everything seem different. Albeit confusing. Like they weren’t just words said to be polite, and the people who said them actually meant it. It was too much to consider right then though, so the message was left without a response as she flicked it back to a minimized state, commenting to no one that it was strange.

____________________________

First

____________________________

I was halfway through the first picture before i realized it was a scene from the previous section X'DD So I gave up and just did 2 pics for this one.