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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year ago

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Safe Keeping | 3

Part 1 2 3 4

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, jealousy, canon typical casual misogyny/violence, themes/mentions of menstruation/pregnancy/miscarriage, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: i made a bunch of shit up in this this chapter so just roll with it (: originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I blink harshly and pinch myself, willing my body awake. I force my eyes wide open, doing my best to make sense of the surroundings that were cloaked in black.

We were heading to my family's abandoned estate in the Brown Wood by the Sterling Rivers; finally, the people there would have a present preceding lord to govern them.

I had not been to the estate since my family was murdered when I was 10 and 3. There was a dread and an excitement that tingled in my body at the idea of return.

Right now, however, my head was starting to hurt from sleepiness.

It seemed we could cease for nothing. We, or rather, the horse and Sandor, have been walking for what felt like ages towards naught.

"Perhaps we should stop for the night," I turn to the Hound from atop my horse, whose face was barely visible in the darkness.

"And do what, little girl?" he groans, "you wanna sleep in the mud?"

I feel Lucy lean further into my shoulder from behind. She nuzzles into my neck and sighs; her arms, which were wrapped around me, loosened as she deeper fell into slumber. Daisy, too, was asleep. Much like Lucy, she nuzzled into Sandor's neck, who's been carrying her since King's Landing.

"Our options are currently limited," I tell him.

He scoffs, "a prissy lady like you thinks she can catch a wink of sleep with her head on a rock?" The Hound adjusts his hold on the reins of the horse, "if you find it hard to sleep on horseback, gods, do I have news for you."

I knit my brows at his words, "I don't find it hard to sleep. I'm choosing to stay up with y-"

"And which of us asked you to do that?" he scoffs and eyes me, "shut your mouth and sleep."

"You've been walking for leagues," I whine, "yours and the horse's backs must hurt from carrying-"

"Then shall I throw you away?" he snaps and stops in his tracks. The horse neighs at the sudden halt. I tighten Lucy's arms around me as I look down at him.

He was truly so large; even now as I was perched upon a steed, he barely had to crane his neck up to look at me.

"It'll be fucking easier for me to get by without 3 bitches weighing me down."

I turn away and huff.

Regardless of this, unlike most times, I feel no threat with his words. If he really wanted to get rid of us, he wouldn't have taken us in the first place. This much I knew. Still, I keep my silence on the matter and mutter instead, "I hope we find lodging soon."

Sandor scoffs and continues walking. He adjusts his grip on Daisy as he looks forward, "your hope is just as helpful as your dollies, little girl."

It's nothing short of a miracle that wandered to a town and found an inn. The moment I thanked the gods tough, they laughed at my face.

We flock outside the inn and Sandor immediately calls the worker girl carrying a bucket of potatoes, telling her to prepare us a room. She turns to him, swallowing the immediate terror she felt over his appearance, and choked out there were no rooms left for many claimed rooms tonight. She says we should try the inn another town away.

You could guess how much The Hound liked that.

The girl and I both gasped when the massive man blocked her passage and imposed upon her, "I suggest you fucking make room for us."

"Sandor!" I cry out, feeling Lucy wake behind me.

The girl drops her bucket; it breaks with a crash and out spills the potatoes. She scrams to pick it all up.

Daisy whines in shock of the noise, wakes, and lifts her head. I pull Lucy's arms off me when Sandor kicks the girl's bucket away. She squeals and falls on her bum just as I jump down from the horse gracelessly.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I stand in his way before he can do anything further to the girl. This causes us to collide and I shuffle back in contact. My feet hit the girl's legs and I lose my balance.

I yelp the same time the Hound grabs me by the arm and snarls, "you stupid fucking girl!"

He rips me into his chest. His iron grip on my arm stings so bad I feel my eyes water. I hiss, "let go of me!"

Daisy begins to stir in his arms. She barks and he wrangles out of his grip. The Hound releases the both of us; the dog jumps out of his arms and comes to my side.

At this point, Lucy is wide awake and jumps off the horse. She fixes her satchel around her and comes to my side. She asks me if I'm hurt and rubs my arm as I did. I tell her to help the girl up as I glare at Sandor.

Daisy is losing her mind barking. It makes the Hound more furious than he was already. He tries to kick her, but Daisy was thankfully quick and managed to run off before he could hit her. She continues barking behind me.

I walk towards him when he makes an attempt to hurt Daisy again. I block his path and grabbing his thick arms, "STOP IT!"

The Hound's eye twitches. He reaches out and yanks my head back by the hair, "you really think you can stop me?"

I whine. I grab the hand on my hair, "she's just a child! It's not her fault there are no more rooms!"

The Hound growls. He releases me roughly.

I shuffle back.

Lucy glares at him as she collects the potatoes and gives it to the weeping girl; she gathers them in her skirts.

"I'm doing this for you, hen-peck," The Hound quips, "and you'd prefer to make me suffer all the way to the next rat infested village!"

"That's not what I'm asking you to do!" I rebut, blood pumping hot with anger, "I'm asking you to leave the girl alone because she's done nothing but be honest to us!"

A chill runs down my spine when I hear him laugh; it's the first time I've ever heard him make such a sound.

"You know what happens to you lot of honest people?" he steps forward and leans down to meet me eye level. I step back but hold his gaze. He he snorts then spits by his side before straightening up, "we lot kill you."

I am equal parts frustrated and scared when he turns around and walks off. Gods know what he will do now.

I call out to him, "I'll find us lodging! I swear it!"

"You go do that, little girl," he growls back as he disappears into the thicket.

I release a breath as I turn around and walk up to Lucy and the girl. Daisy finally stops barking.

"Forgive me, sweet girl," I mutter as I help the weeping thing up. I give Lucy a look and she immediately nods and goes through her satchel. I frown at the girl and brush away the hair sticking to her dampened face, "my husband has rough hands and a sharp tongue."

Her face falls upon hearing this.

Lucy pulls out a coin and shows it to her before slipping it between her belt.

"For your trouble, my dear," I pull away from her, "I hope no one will bother you again tonight."

With that, the girl curtsies and walks off.

"Would you like some wine, my lady?"

I turn to the man, sat diagonal to me. He gives me a beaming smile from ear to ear, hazel eyes twinkling with the morning sunshine. His his rosy cheeks are framed by his mousy blonde hair. He motions to his servant, but then changes his mind a second later. He stands from his seat on the table and grabs the ewer, ready to pour me a glass.

I cover the chalice before me and smile, "water is enough for me, my lord. Thank you."

"Oh," he raises the object, "please. This is special wine from my uncle's vineyard. I tell you there is none like it."

Lucy, sat to my right, lifts her eyes as she chews the duck we had been served.

I shake my head, "I do not doubt it. I do not think it appropriate for me to drink wine, however."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head and smiles, "a cup of wine in the morning will get your blood pumping."

"No, Lord, I do not make issue of drinking during this time of day," I purse my lips, "I mean I am..." I trail off trying to think of the simplest way to explain it, "expecting."

The man tilts his head in confusion.

"Of course, I am uncertain, but..." I turn to my lap then turn back to him.

Lucy chews slowly as she straightens up beside me.

"... I could be with child."

The man freezes upon hearing that. His lips part and his arm slowly lowers.

I offer him a soft smile. He makes a cautious sound, "my apologies, Lady Clegane."

"No. All is well, I assure you, Lo-"

"No," he clears his throat, "it was quite impertinent of me to press upon such a thing with a lady," he nods, "you have taught me a valuable lesson."

I let out a polite chuckle, "glad to be of service, Lord Alistair."

"Please, the Lord of house Alistair is my father," he smiles, "I bid you call me Cedric."

Lucy pretends to clear her throat and then grabs her cup. Our host sees this then stands up to offer, "perhaps you would like to try the wine instead?"

Lucy blinks and looks between him and I. I give her a look then she says, "don't mind if I do, milord."

I chuckle under my breath.

He pours her a cup and she immediately drinks it.

She lets out a breath, "wow. Cedric's right about the wine!"

Both of us perk in shock of Lucy's words.

"Lucy!" I quip.

"What, milady?" she makes an innocent face, "it really is god wine!'

"You cannot call our Lord by his name!"

"But he said not to call him Lord Alistair!"

My jaw drops, "Lucy!"

Cedric laughs, "no. She is right. I did say that." He looks between us, "I pray both of you call me by my name."

I turn to Cedric but do not get to respond as Lucy does it for me, "I am your obedient servant."

Cedric laughs and we make small talk as we continue to finish our morning meal.

Cedric Alistair was a most courteous host. Last night, as our options went dry, I asked the townsfolk where their lord resided, and we walked all the way to the Alistair stronghold in hopes of amity. We were met with much more than that

Not only did he feed me, Lucy, Daisy, and the horse, but he had his servants draw us baths and give us a change of clothes. He refused any of the coin I had to give him, and said it was only right to host a lady this way. He even said he would also have his men look for my missing husband.

Sandor wandered off after our squabble, thus we looked for a place to stay ourselves. I knew partially, he probably needed this time to cool his temper, but I obviously didn't want to be separated from him. And yet, the idea of having Lord Alistair's men look for the Hound made me anxious, as I knew the chances of a fight breaking out between them was high. In the end, told him he did not need to deploy his men because my husband would find his way to us eventually.

Cedric chuckled in surprise when I told him this, remarking I must have quite the capable husband.

Neither of us expected him to walk into the room in the middle of our conversation.

I stand from my seat when I spot him, "Sandor!"

Lord Cedric stands with me.

The Hound is expressionless, save for the way his brows were furrowed. His skin and armor is still covered in blood from the battle of the Blackwater; it's now dried up and brown. His hair and beard is matted.

Daisy, who had been graciously kept indoors and was being fed at the end of the room, runs as fast as her three legs can take her, towards the Hound.

Lucy finds herself standing because of this. She runs up to Daisy, who was now near Sandor. She scolds the dog who is excited to see him. Sandor ignores them both and heads towards me. I meet him halfway, looking his body once over.

Sandor halts when I place my hands on his arms. In truth, the action was instinctive. Seeing him like this in daylight was making my stomach churn. I look up at him, "this is not your blood, right?"

His eyes look heavy as he looks down at me. He huffs, "no."

I nod in relief, "here," I pull away and motion to my seat, "you can have my food-"

"Nonsense," Cedric interjects, turning from us to the entrance of the dining room, "could someone prepare a plate for Lord-"

Sandor reaches past me and grabs the duck on my plate, stuffing it into his mouth.

Cedric turns to him as he does this.

I ask, "could I request a damp cloth?"

Lucy finally calms Daisy down and convinces her to go back to her bowl and finish eating.

Cedric eyes me, then Sandor, then the entrance, "and a damp cloth!"

I watch as Sandor devours the meat, "where did you sleep last night?"

He huffs as he chews. "On a rock in the fucking forest," the Hound grumbles before swallows the duck in his mouth.

I frown at him, "we tried looking for you for a while after you stormed off, but I did not want to lead us any deeper into the forest beyond what torchlight touched."

Sandor gives me a nod, "smart girl."

The compliment fades in an instant when he pushes me aside and sits on my spot, finishing whatever was left on my plate. Cedric and I watch him eat. At the same time, two servants come in with a plate and cutlery, and a small basin bowl and a cloth.

"Good morn, milord," Lucy curtsies at Sandor, who spares her a glance but nothing more.

I circle around to grab a chair from across Sandor and bring it to his side. Cedric holds back whatever he is meant to say as he watches me thank his servant for the bowl and cloth, and prop it on the chair I took.

"Stop!" I hiss at Sandor, just as he reaches to a leg of chicken with his bare hand.

The Hound pulls back and turns to me with slightly wide eyes. In contrast, Lucy's eyes are as big as the moon.

I wring out the towel before taking Sandor's left hand, wiping it. I mumble, "I know you're starving, but you should eat with clean hands, my Lord."

Cedric finally sits down on his chair. Lucy turns to her own hands and wonders if she should wash after touching Daisy.

Sandor gives me his other hand to clean, silently watching me do this.

"Would you like milk of the poppy for your wounds, Lord Clegane?" Cedric asks, unable to tear his eyes from the man's face, "for your burn?"

I turn to him when he says this while. I motion to Sandor, wordlessly allowing him to continue eating now. I wash the towel in the basin, "he's not inju-"

"I would like some milk," Sandor says as he tears himself some chicken.

I furrow my brows at this, turning to him, "but you said-"

Cedric is about to call the order but then my husband's voice cuts him off. The Hound blurts just as I begin to wipe his face, "but only if it's from my wife's teat."

Lucy begins to choke on the wine she was drinking.

My freeze in my spot. I feel my face burn like a thousand suns.

There is a thick tension in the air, only thinned by the sound of Lucy's coughing.

I don't know what to say and so I decide not to say anything. I simply wipe the man's face with bit more force than necessary. He didn't even seem to notice.

The Hound eyes Lord Alistair the whole time he eats. It makes both the Lord, himself, and I severely uncomfortable.

"Sandor," I scold warily.

He does not turn to me as he picks up a cup, "wife."

I watch him chug down water then turn to me. The Hound asks, "you want some duck?"

I do my best not to roll my eyes.

The horses grazed as we took a break near a river. I watch Sandor kneel down by the water and wash his face. I scoff at him, sitting down on a rock.

We were on our way to my family's estate again. Cedric had been kind enough to offer us each a horse. The Hound, however, was too proud to accept a horse for himself, arguing he would not be able to carry the stupid bitch if he got on horseback.

He also rejected a bath, as 'we ought to not waste daylight.'

I look around the surroundings, finding solace in the fact that at least the weather was clear and kind. I watch Daisy run around and dig a hole with her paws; her broken leg did not really help, and yet that did not stop her from using it. I smile at the animal.

I watch Lucy lean into her horse and stroke it's mane. I can barely make out what she was whispering to the steed Cedric gave her. Still, the sight intensified my smile.

I so badly want to give them a good life.

I turn to the tree by my side. I remember how we used to have a tree in Brown Wood, how my father made my brothers and I a swing himself. I want that. I want to do the same for my children. I wonder if that tree was still there. I gasp when I spot a squirrel on the branch.

The Hound is immediately alerted by this and grabs his hilt, "what is it?"

"A squirrel," I point and stand. I walk over to the tree, "look, it's so little!"

Sandor makes a noise and makes a face, "Little?" he releases his grip, "what like you? Shall I get it for you as a pet?"

I turn to him, shocked by his offer. He would get a pet for me?

He walks towards me, "I won't be the one to kill it. Your dog will."

My expression morphs into a scowl.

He clicks his tongue twice then whistles. Daisy barks in response and follows after him. I am somehow angered by her obedience to him. I scoff under my breath, "I suppose dogs recognize each other."

The moment I see Daisy's excitement towards him, I regret speaking such harsh words. I'm glad Sandor did not hear it.

Lucy watches me as I walk up to my horse. Sandor takes me by the waist and lifts me with no fuss. I easily mount the horse and look down at him. I finally find it in me to bring it up after a painfully quiet travel, "you did not have to be so icy to Lord Alistair. He was a temperate host."

Sandor chuckles dryly and grabs the reins of my horse. He begins to walk. Daisy walks beside him as he says, "I'm sure he'd love to warm your bed. And I'm sure you'd want him to."

My face falls at his accusation.

"I'm sure you'd let him."

"Do not speak so low and surely of me, Hound!" I hiss, "these words you sputter weigh heavily on the both of us."

He chuckles again, "is that supposed to be a threat?" He turns to me, "you think I give a shit about words?"

"Well, I do!" I snap, eyes watering in anger and frustration, "and your words hurt me!" I turn away from him, "I have done nothing but try to please you, and you do nothing but try to hurt me!"

"Please me," he grumbles and looks away, "you've done nothing but nag and slow me down!"

I ignore him as I ruefully wipe away my tears, cursing myself for crying over him again.

The Hound is about to bark another string of complaints but stops himself as he whips back at me. He looks for a second, adjusting his hold onto he reins, then turns away, "you should have married the likes of fucking Lord Alistair, little squirrel."

I scoff and shake my head at his new nickname, "well, I didn't choose you, didn't I, Hound?"

Lucy's looks at me, lips parting at sound of the remark.

Sandor turns to Daisy, watching her keep up with him with her three paws, "no, you did not."

We were finally... home.

It was the dead of night when we arrived, and my family estate was as abandoned as ever. The place was called Brown Wood, as it was near a forest which was home to many brown bears. The forest extended to the Sterling Rivers, which got its name for it's clear waters where you could fish for gold. It used to be a haven for both men and beasts alike, now, it was a ruin of darkness.

The people that remained there stayed as far from the forest as they could, fearing what lurked in the shadows.

Sandor had to open the gates himself, as there would be no one to do it for us. The moment we were inside, a chill ran down my spine.

"This was your home, milady?" Lucy asks, looking around the place as our horses tread inside.

I sniffle and offer a smile, mostly to mask the fear building in my stomach, "it wasn't always like this."

"How old were you when you left again?" she asks as she readies to dismount her horse.

Sandor shoos Daisy away before reaching out to help me down. I reply before I do, "10 & 3."

I huff as Sandor sets me down. I look up at him. He looks down on me, pulling his hands that lingered too long away from my waist. Daisy begins to run around and bark. The Hound walks off and shushes her.

Lucy takes my arm and we go inside together.

I thought if we lit candles and the fireplace, I'd feel less scared, but I think I was terrified now. I thought that if I ignored that feeling as I showed everyone around my old home, I'd feel better, but I didn't.

Lucy had decided to take the room near the kitchen, so she wouldn't have to walk so far in the mornings to cook for us. I wasn't exactly sure where Daisy was. It was now only Sandor and I walking down the halls. I was leading us to the master bedroom with a single candle in my hand.

I open the door and step in, "here it is."

I turn to Sandor, stood by the door. I place the candle down my the bedside table. He surveys the room, taking in the cob webs and the dusty furniture, "it's big room."

I lick my lips, "it was bigger in my head, but... it must have just been because I was a child when I was last here."

Sandor looks at me and nods, "I will sleep in the room beside you."

"Wha- wait!" I step forward.

Sandor's boots skid on the floor as he stops himself.

"Y-you're-- y-you're not going to sleep with me?"

Sandor grips the knob, "have I ever slept with you before?"

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

A moment of silence passes.

"You could start sleeping with me now," I offer weakly as I motion around, "there's more than enough space for the two of us."

Sandor shifts before speaking, "I'm going to take a bath before going to bed." And with that, he closes the door behind him.

I gasp when he does. I feeling a heavy dread sliver up my spine.

I roll my shoulders back and roughly brush my arms. I light the other candles in the room and busy myself with changing the sheets. There was a bittersweetness in doing so. This used to be my parents room. I knew where they kept their things and all their things were still in place. One would wonder why every item was still intact and untouched, but then one clearly does not know the horrid tales that befell Brown Wood.

I rip the sheets off the bed, coughing as dust flew around. I do my best attempt at changing the sheets and chuck the musty ones by the edge of the bed.

Once I gave up in fitting the sheets the way Lucy did, I huffed and undid my dress, remaining in nothing but my shift. I then hid under the covers.

My exhaustion should have made it easier to sleep, but the setting was triggering my memories. It wasn't long until I was recounting the one I hated the most. Fear was clawing at me, and soon enough, my mind was playing tricks.

The next thing I knew I was frozen in bed, too petrified to move, but wanting nothing more than to get up and flee, to where, I did not know. I begin to feel tears stream from my eyes, but I'm too scared to make a noise, too scared that it will bring forth the darkness lurking in the shadows.

Somehow, I eventually manage to convince myself to call a name, I do this against a pillow though. Slowly, I call the name louder and louder until I was screaming into the bed, "SANDOR!"

I burst into a shriek when I feel something touch my shoulders.

"IT'S ME! It's me!" he groans, ripping my blanket down, turning me to face him. I sit up and grab hold of his arms. I look at his face, I look at Sandor's alarmed expression. He was in nothing but his breeches but that didn't stop me from grabbing his bare shoulders as I sobbed.

"What's wrong, squirrel?" he pushes my hair away from my face, "why are you calling out to me like this?"

I feel him wipe my cheeks. I miss the gentleness of his touch because I'm too wrapped up in my terror.

I shake my head, "I can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Sleep on my own," I choke out, grabbing his wrists, "please."

Sandor remains still as I move closer to him.

"I swear to you I will stay on my side," I shake my head rapidly, "I will not move. I will not make a sound. I will make myself as small as possible, but I beg that you sleep with me, that you stay with me."

Sandor considers my desperation in silence.

I whine when he pulls away. I repel his actions and throw myself onto him, "please-"

"I'm just going to get my shirt."

"There are shirts here!" I say as I grab his arm and stand from bed. I drag him towards the closet and hand him my one of my father's old shirt. I get on my tiptoes and begin to put it on him. He grunts as I do this, but lets me do it anyway.

"I got it," he quips when I try helping him put the sleeve on.

I watch him put on the shirt. It looked a bit tight on him but I couldn't care less, he would have to make due. I grab his bicep, "so, you'll stay with me?"

Sandor eyes me, pushing his hair back, "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

I release a breath, "I swear," I shake my head again, "I will not make a fuss! I am a light sleeper! If I do something, simply wake me so that I do not both-"

"I get it," Sandor says, pulling his arm away. I follow him closely as he steps into bed. I quickly follow after him, taking the smallest portion of the bed possible.

"I'm not that fucking massive, girl," he grumbles once he's on his side.

I turn to him, "I don't want to-"

"I'm bothered with you sleeping so on edge that you're going to roll off any second."

I scoot a tad closer to him.

Sandor makes himself comfortable. I slowly let myself do the same.

I anticipate an interrogation from him. I'm sure he wanted to ask why I was crying, why I wanted him here, why I'm so scared, but they never come. He just lays there with me in the quiet. I instead find myself focusing on the sound of his breathing as a distraction to my racing mind. I eventually tire myself out and slowly doze off.

I wake up with a groan. I bite my lip and reach out to the other side of the bed. Empty again.

I sigh and roll under the covers. I freeze when I feel a dampness between my thighs.

I push myself up and pull the sheets down as I sit up. A pool of red was seeping through my shift. A panic shoots through me. I clutch my belly, mortified as I rip up my skirt and see how much blood I've lost. Was this...

I lie back down and try to count the days that I last bled and the day Sandor and I laid together.

I release a breath. The counting is both calming and frustrating.

I sit back up and call, "Lucy!"

I stand from the bed and pull the sheets off, "Margaret!"

I walk to the closet and fish for a change of clothes, "Annetta!"

A voice from afar calls out, "coming, milady!"

Lucy was the one that responded. She gasps when she walks in, eyes immediately on the red of my otherwise white attire, "you're-"

"Not with child," I finish for her, looking over my shoulder, "is a bath prepared for me?"

Lucy takes a moment before nodding, "yes. It's why it took me a while to get here," she walks over to the sheets, "the girls didn't prepare the bath the way you like it."

"I do not mind not having lavender," I pull out a dress from the closet.

"Well, I mind," Lucy turns to me, "you have been aching for a two days now."

I hum, "and now we know why," I motion to the bed she was fixing.

Lucy takes my arm before I can walk off to the bathroom. She speaks my name; she says it in a soft and wary manner. I purse my lips and turn to her. I raise my brows expectantly.

She clenches her jaw, "do you think it is monthly blood or..." Lucy's face hardens.

"My love," I shake my head and offer a smile, "it is simply my that."

My handmaiden is unconvinced, "it's been three moons since you've bled."

"And has that not happened to me before when I was a maiden?" I tilt my head and brush her hair behind her shoulders.

The both of us turn to the door when someone knocks. I tell whoever it is to enter and in comes Annetta. The young farmer's girl was one of the now many servants in Brown Wood. Her eyes widen when she sees the red on my clothes. She scrambles to get something to cover me. I chuckle and assure her it is alright because I will be bathing anyway.

This haunted place lost its ghosts once we took in people to employ. The estate now resembled something like that of my childhood; plenty of rooms were now being used, people were bustling in and out, only except now, all the responsibility was glaringly obvious to me for it was my responsibility... and Sandor's.

It was tedious work, managing a house, managing an estate, managing the whole expanse of what was within the Brown Wood and the Sterling River. The Hound was keen on being obvious to how tedious it was.

I am partially grateful that he was doing his duties-- no, I am grateful that he was. But-

"My Lord," I rise from my seat on the dining table when I see Sandor march down the halls towards me. I smile softy and nod, "good morrow."

"Nothing's good about morrows," he grumbles. Sandor draws the chair at the head of the table back with a screech. He looks down at the table. He turns to me and asks, "where's the grub?"

I decide not to respond and only look over to where the kitchen was, calling for the servants. I sit down and smile when I turn to him, "I was hoping you would join me today."

Three servants walk in carrying our plates of food and an ewer. The Hound watches them place it down and leave.

I stand up again when he takes his plate, "please."

"You know I've got no time for this," he hisses in annoyance, "I have a bunch of sorry fucks' complaints to listen to-"

"I can do that!" I place my hand on my chest, "I can fill in those duties for you."

Sandor freezes.

I turn to the table, "I wanted to speak to you about these things as we ate."

My belly swirls at his silence.

I turn back to him and catch the way he rolls his jaw and wrists. I manage to repress the way I jolt at how he roughly sits himself down. I take a deep breath before sitting down.

The Hound immediately feasts. He makes soft sounds as he chews. The cutlery clanks against the china.

I begin to eat as well, "did you wake before sunrise again?"

He responds by stuffing more food in his mouth.

I look at him as I chew. I look at his burn scar, where his hair started and ended on that side of his face. I notice at how, though he is quick to eat, he is mindful not to get anything on his beard. I notice how he not once looks back at me.

"You needn't wake so early," I offer softly, "you can have someone else-"

"None of the sorry fucks in this town know how to use a sword, not properly. Once I train a few of them, they can train themselves," he takes the ewer and pours himself a cup of wine. He mutters as he brings the cup to his lips, "they keep complaining about the woodland monsters stealing their sheep, but I reckon it's them thieving on each other."

I put my silverware down, "you might not believe it, but the woodland monsters are real."

The Hound sets his cup before him and continues to eat.

I feel a frustrated ire build in me, "I've told you, those creatures are what killed my family. You saw my scar. You know why I cannot sleep without you."

"I didn't say I didn't believe your story," he finally turns to me, "I said they're stealing each other's sheep."

I turn back to my plate and cut up my food, "will you investigate the theft then?"

"What for?" he continues to eat, "I scared those pricks shitless. If anyone is stealing, now they won't."

My face twitches at the thought.

Sandor notices.

He chews for a moment before asking, "what?"

I tense as I turn to him.

He looks expectantly.

I purse my lips tightly before curving it into a smile, "you have been working tirelessly and have... very surely established lordship to Brown Wood, a role that is immensely different to the one you used to have. I know that this is not the life you want or ever thought of having, but I am grateful for your a-"

"You don't have to shield my heart and kiss my ass, squirrel," he leans back on his chair and waves impatiently, "get to the point."

I lick my lips and huff, "your time in service has hardened you, as it would any other man. It has helped you become the valiant warrior you are, but--" I cut myself off to gently mutter, "I feel your way is a bit too coarse."

The Hound says nothing.

I straighten up, "that is why I would like to take upon your load of relating with the people," I reach for the ewer and pour myself some wine, "in this way, you will not have to rise so early to fit all your errands in a day."

He places his hand atop my cup when I try to pick it up.

I pull my head back as he straightens up, "you know I used to wake at the ass crack of dawn for the stupid boy-king, doncha?"

My stomach drops when he leans in.

"So, what?" he narrows his eyes, "you'd do all the talking by yourself?"

I gulp, "ideally-"

"Ideally," he chuckles and pulls away.

"-so that you may use that time for your other responsibilities, your patrols.��That is something you're much more accustomed to."

My skin pricks as when laughs harder. It felt like his amusement was laced with poison.

He shakes his head and sighs deeply. He looks at me for a good long moment then tilts his head, "you think I can't do it."

I furrow my brows.

"You think I'm an imbecile who can't solve petty arguments between illiterate boneheads," he begins to flare, "and you don't want the pretty memory of your dead fucking family to be tainted by my monstrosity."

I am appalled by his words, "that's not what I said!"

"You didn't need to," he nods, "shackled to a Hound, you ought to use him like one, right? Never mind giving him a chance."

I feel like a stake pierced through my ribs. His low chuckle squeezes my heart. I rebut, "that is not what I meant."

"And what did you mean?!"

"I want to help you!" I fight back the way my eyes wanted to water, "I want to share your burden! I grew up watching my uncle speak to his people in his house, while you grew up learning the ways of the blade. What I offer is a more logical setup."

"Just like it was logical of you to keep a three legged dog," he quips back.

I scoff in disbelief.

"I suppose you want me to hunt the creatures that butchered your family next, huh?" he scratches his beard.

My face drops at the thought. I rapidly shake my head I disagreement.

He clenches his fist and grits his teeth, "why not? Maybe then you can have your kid with that pretty boy-lord across the meadow."

His words make belly contract. I clutch my belly, painfully aware that I was bleeding between my thighs this moment.

"I'm not with child," I blurt out, unable to contain my tears any longer.

Sandor is freezes, at the sight of the tears and the statement.

"I woke up bleeding," I say between cries, "I've never been regular bleeder. It's not unusual for me to skip through multiple moons."

The next words he says butchers me.

"Maybe it's the gods' will for you not to be a mother."

I stare at him in horror after hearing this. His blank expression is chilling to the bone.

He suddenly stands, "there's always something awry when we speak, and you always end up weeping."

Is this why he thinks I shouldn't be a mother?

"In any case, we ought to not speak to each other at all."

My jaw drops. I nearly choke on my heart, "now you don't even want to speak to me."

"Look at yourself," he raises a hand, "you don't want to speak to me."

"Because you are treating me so cruelly!" I spring up from my seat.

The Hound shakes his head, "I'm treating you just fine. I'm doing you a favor."

Sandor tenses as he watches me shove my chair back and walk away.

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babygorewhore · 10 months ago

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Paparazzi

Stalker Eddie part two

Part one

You and Eddie parted ways after the Halloween party due to your commitment issues. But he could never let you go and he’s determined to win you back. Even if that means his obsession only grows.

Hiiiiii so I missed my baby so much and I decided to continue the story in this last part. Thank you so much to @take-everything-you-can for inspiring me. And thank you dolly @xxhellfirebunnyxx for beta reading!!!!!

Warnings! Obsessive behavior! Slightly angst but barely! Fingering! Titty sucking! Unprotected sex! Lots of praise!

Eddie hated himself for letting you go. He really did. After the Halloween party, you told him you couldn’t commit and he didn’t fight for you. Which drove him insane considering how hard he fought for you for weeks. He didn’t blame you for avoiding him since he did in fact stalk you. But you were so perfect that he couldn’t stay away. Which brought him outside your apartment now, where you and your roommate lived. You were going to a valentine’s day party thrown by Steve and he was automatically invited to go. He needed a plan to win you back.

He didn’t mean to show up here but he couldn’t avoid it after he tracked your location. It was bordering on creepy but he was so worried about your safety since you didn’t have your own car yet. He would have given you one of his that he worked on but you would insist on your independence. He didn’t blame you and that was one of the things he liked about you. Your spirit and drive.

He looked at his phone obsessively and waited for any update on your social media or if by a miracle you did text or call. He would always wait for your phone call. The last story you posted was at work with of course a Bad Omens song playing in the background. You were his dream girl. His everything and he refused to let this go on any longer.

Well…that was until he saw a man comment under one of your photos when he got home an hour later. He didn’t recognize the name. His focus is only on the heart eye emoji. Eddie clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would break. You were his girl. He would work however hard he needed to. To win you back. No matter what.

So he commented something else.

“I miss you.” He almost threw his phone when he saw that you only liked it and he settled into bed. Playing the Bad omens playlist in the background. He wanted to touch himself at the memory of your sweet pussy but he wouldn’t. His come belonged to you and only you. His dream girl.

Eddie almost dropped two drinks as he served and managed the inventory at work the next evening because he felt phantom vibrations of his phone but to his dismay it wasn’t you. It was never you anymore. It was Steve or Johnny. He loved them dearly, but you were his priority.

“Hey, man. You good? You seem really nervous..” His coworker Josh asked him and he nodded rapidly.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little distracted.” He responded tightly. Eddie moved forward with his mixer and handed the margaritas to the two ladies in front of him. They gave him sly smiles but he barely returned them. They weren’t you. So never would he ever pay them attention. Eddie continued being clumsy the whole night until he got into his car well after two in the morning when he saw you had texted him an hour earlier. How could he miss that?

“Hey…are you going to the party on Valentine’s day, Eddie?” You asked and he immediately replied.

“Yes. You’ll be there, right?”

“Yeah, Bunny and I are riding together. She says Steve is still going after her pretty strong.” Your reply came right after and Eddie almost screamed in relief. He thought about not replying for a second to possibly give you the same treatment but he caved in immediately.

He texted you that he was excited to see you but you didn’t answer back and he wanted to have a meltdown but he knew that would be extremely unattractive so he controlled himself. Eddie sat on his couch and scrolled through all your socials like a bedtime story and he felt relaxed the more he looked at your pretty face. He didn’t know what he’d wear to the party as he thought about Halloween. He missed you.

That was the main emotion he felt. Longing.

But he was going to make that damn party the way to win you back.

It was the day of the party and Eddie was dressed in his all black attire as he drove to Steve’s house. He brought a small gift for you in a bag, hoping it would spark a desire to come back to him as he walked inside the familiar house that belonged to Steve. The crowd wasn’t as crazy as Halloween as he saw couples together, including Steve showing off your best friend but Eddie hungrily looked for you, looking for any signs of his dream girl.

“Hey, Eddie.” He stilled when he heard your voice behind him. He swallowed and turned. This was the first time he saw you up close in person since that night.

Your eyes looked at him with an expression he couldn’t place but he was so thankful to see you that he had a smile creep on his face. “Hey, sweets.” That made your own lips curved up. “It’s good to see you,”

“I’m glad you’re here, Eddie. And not outside my house.” His eyes widened as you gave him a knowing smirk.

“I’m-I’m sorry I just had to make sure you were safe. I know you don’t have a car and I would give you one of mine but you’re so independent which I love that about you but I just couldn’t help it-“

“Eddie, slow down.” You chuckled. “It’s okay. I left my location on for a reason.” A flash of guilt crossed your face as he licked his dry lips.

“I bought this for you.” He moved aside for someone to walk by as he gave you the bag.

You removed the item and your eyes softened. It was a ghostface plushie. Fake knife and everything. You brought it to your nose and inhaled. “He smells like you.” You teased and placed him into your purse. Eddie smiled.

“Sprayed it with my cologne, sweetheart. Wanted you to have something that reminded you of me.” Eddie didn’t move as you reached forward and gently touched the end of one of his waves.

“Did you get a haircut?” You asked and he immediately regretted it. Maybe he should have asked if you liked his hair earlier. How could he be so stupid?

“I like it.” You finished and he took a sharp breath. “Do you want to talk in a more private place?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll follow you,” Eddie replied as you both walked upstairs. Eddie watched your perfect legs inside your dark pants and your red shirt that clung to your body. His mouth watered. He wanted to touch you so badly. Spill his cum inside you so far that you leak. But he had to remain strong and hear what you had to say. You both entered an empty bedroom and you sat on the white bed. With your purse gently set on the ground. Your ankles crossed together and he noticed you pressing your thighs together.

“Eddie, I want to explain myself to you. I’m sorry, I avoided you. I have serious commitment issues.” You said bluntly and Eddie felt his chest swell with disappointment. “But I think about you all the time. About everything you’d do for me. About our songs and I miss you. I shouldn’t have walked away and if you’ll have me…” you stood up and pressed your hands on his chest. “I’d love to go out sometime. On an actual date.”

Eddie didn’t even have words as relief, joy and excitement caused him to wrap both arms around your shoulders and pull you into a hug. You laughed at his crushing force. “Sweets, of course I’ll have you.”

“And you can actually step inside my apartment. You don’t have to sit in your car…” You teased and pulled back. “If you had watched more closely, you would have seen my hands down here.” You cupped yourself and Eddie shivered.

He kissed you, so hard you both stumbled and landed on your back. Eddie moaned as you gripped his curls and his cock hardened inside his jeans as you spread your legs and wrapped them around his hips. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this pretty little pussy for so long…I’ve waited for you.” He said against your warm mouth. He sucked your lower lip and shoved his tongue inside your mouth. And you met his force.

Eddie pulled your shirt off and palmed your tits. “Your tits are so perfect, so ready for my mouth, sweetheart.” He groaned and licked around your nipple before pulling it between his lips and sucked softly. Your hands flew to his hair again and he moved his other hand inside your pants and pushed your panties to the side.

His long finger toyed with your clit, circling the center with moderate speed as your wet slick coated his skin as his mouth sucked your nipple. You moaned his name as he plunged two fingers inside you, your own lube spreading you open for him as he pumped them upward. You shuddered and Eddie met your lips again.

“Your body is so fucking perfect. This sweet cunt just for me, baby. Let’s see how you taste…” He removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of contact but he then put them inside his mouth. Eddie’s dick was aching from the sweetness from you and his eyes rolled back.

“Please, fuck me.” You started humping his pelvis like a bitch in heat. “I never should have left.” You whispered as he ripped his jeans and yours off. Then his boxers.

His thick cock twitched with his red tip that he rubbed against your clit, tracing it along your folds as your greedy hole clenched around nothing. “You want it that badly, princess?” He teased you and then he sunk in, bottomed out as his balls slapped against you.

You gasped at the sharp stretch but it was quickly replaced with warm heat as your cunt squeezed him and Eddie grunted loudly at the contact. “You’re such a good pretty girl, sweets. So perfect for me. Don’t stop. Give me all those sounds. Wanna know how good I make you feel.” He said as he thrusted hard and deep.

Your legs lifted higher as he lifted your knees, his cock hitting your spot as he moved aggressively and his skin slapped against yours. “Faster, Eddie.” You stuttered and how could he ever deny his girl?

Eddie dug his hips even deeper, using his strength to pin your body down with his chest against yours as he shakily peppered kisses down your sweaty neck and sucked at your collarbone. “Fuck, don’t ever leave me again. I want my girl. Don’t leave me again.” He begged as he felt his peak approaching.

“Cum in me, Eddie. Want you to mark me.” You breathed between pants and almost immediately he stopped holding back and gripped the sheets beside you and thrusted faster.

Your own cum spilled around his cock, your head lulled back as you cried out his name and pressed your head against his shoulder. Eddie’s cum coated your insides, his seed spilling and making you drip onto the bed as he whimpered. This was better than ever touching himself and he was so grateful he waited all this time. He breathed before capturing your lips into another kiss. This time softer as he savored your lips.

Eddie fell beside you and was shocked when you laid your head on his chest and looked up at him. “I sort of kept track of you too, you know?” You were still trying to catch your breath. “Maybe we’re both stalkers.”

Eddie laughed and kissed your head as his arms wrapped around you. “You’re such a sweet girl, you know that? Almost as sweet as this fucking holiday.”

“Well, it did make you my boyfriend, didn’t it?” Eddie internally cheered as he pinched your ass.

“And you took back this loser metal head willing to follow you home. You still need a car by the way.”

“Not from you, babe.”

“Still denying me, I see.” He turned over and pinned you down by your wrists playfully and you grinned.

“Guess I’ll have to persuade you.”

Tagging @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @redhead1180 @xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @reidsbtch @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin @chrrymunson @elaine-in-the-membrane

I do have a Taglist form linked in my pinned. Please comment again or send me an ask if you’d liked to be tagged for any of my fandom fics or all.

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #stalker!eddie

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years ago

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You and Legolas hiding your relationship from the Fellowship would include...

Warning: Brief mention of sex

- Intentionally walking at opposite sides of the group during the day.

- Consulting one another through looks instead of words whenever Gandalf, Gimli, Boromir, and Aragorn are debating which route to take.

- Speaking in elvish whenever the chance arises for the two of you to be alone out of Gandalf and Aragorn’s earshot.

- “You look stunning today, my love.”

- “I can hardly bear to be apart from you.” You’d breathe, glancing over at the others. “If we were to reveal our engagement, I believe that they would take it well.”

- Legolas doesn’t want your attachment to compromise the quest, his logic something you respect but don’t necessarily agree with.

- But he makes it up to you at night, after everyone has gone to sleep and the two of you have volunteered for night watch.

- Legolas takes you by the hand, leads you a little ways into the woods, and proceeds to make love to you for hours.

- Whispering apologies, kissing every inch of your skin, worshipping your body to make up for every single moment he did not touch you during the day.

- It is nothing short of an absolute miracle that the two of you have not woken anyone up.

- Furthermore, it is another miracle that nothing has attacked the rest of the Fellowship in their sleep because you and Legolas are quite distracted, to say the least.

- It isn’t until after the Fellowship loses Boromir and the hobbits that you reach your breaking point.

- You’re up to your knees in water, helping Legolas with the boats when your hands touch and everything stops.

- You look up at him, tears in your eyes, and then before you can think you’re falling into his arms.

- “Hold me, Legolas. Hold me, please.”

- Aragorn and Gimli appear on the shoreline just as Legolas kisses you long and deep.

- Gimli bursts out laughing while Aragorn simply smiles.

- Of course, they both knew the entire time.

- So did everyone else.

- Most nights it had been Aragorn and Boromir who had gotten up and taken watch after you and Legolas had snuck into the forest.

- They consider your engagement to be a breath of happiness after the journey’s sadness.

A special thank you to the anon who requested this!

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clarkes-and-god · 20 days ago

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#they look so happy lol #dolly+farris #dolly miracle #fundie sims #quiverfull sims #fundie snark #fundie simblr #modest sims #satire #homeschool sims

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sapphirelightningbug · 5 days ago

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Love, Actually [Chapter 2: O Christmas Tree]

Series Summary: Christmas 2005, you and Aegon meet in a dog park in your hometown of Newark, New Jersey. He’s a strange foreigner who you’re hesitant about at first but he’s enamored by you. The only thing that can help you two is a Christmas miracle, and maybe a New Years kiss.

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The Lowe’s parking lot is vacant when you pull in—well, almost. At 8 a.m. on a Sunday, there were three other vehicles in the lot: a gunmetal grey Dodge Ram pickup sitting three spots down, a red Nissan Altima next to it, and an ugly, dilapidated Toyota Camry across the lot. The air is crisp and the once lush scenery, now contained only leafless trees, all that remained the skeletons of an erst spring.

You hop down from your truck a magnificent, red 1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee. Reminiscing, it was the first nice car you’d had. In the past, you'd solely had used vehicles—a silver Honda Civic and a Nissan Frontier—but this one was fresh off the lot and is still in pristine condition. It was your baby; constant upkeep and baths every weekend, well when there wasn’t a consistent fall of sleet.

The ground was jagged underneath your feet. You run your hands over the slick outer shell of your lavender puffer jacket, rolling your fuzzy black gloves off your hands. Curdling them into a ball and shoving them aimlessly into your pockets.

The days-long blizzard had finally diminished the evening before, leaving the roads unburdened by snow in the morning. You reach the sidewalk opposite the parking lot and embark into Lowe’s. The fluorescent lighting beaming off the ceiling is overtly obnoxious, an unabridged contrast to the soft, cool light of the outside air.

The scent of wood and metal floods your senses as you head for the Christmas section. There were a few finishing embellishments you needed to do for your apartment’s decoration.

Passing the aisles of hardware, you step into the holiday décor section, some eerie-looking animatronics playing Christmas music. You hum to the melody as you head over to the statues searching for a snowman to put outside your house. You find one you’re keen on and look it over. It’s a classic snowman, made out of what looked like polyresin. The snowman had on a top hat with a plaid stripe, two stick arms, button eyes, and a fabric carrot nose.

“Hey stranger,” you jump slightly, hearing the satin smooth voice, and spin on your heels to see who it is. You’re met by the face of the same blonde man from the day prior. Aegon. A small thrill runs up your spine. My silent prayers have been answered, the universe really does love me, you surmise.

“Oh gosh, fancy meeting you here,” your heart stutters, his smile was ever-present. He had a dolly, its rusted metal squeaked as it stirred. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask why you were here. “Oh I’m just getting the final decorations for outside my apartment,” you smile, “What about you?” You gesture to the dolly he had.

“Trying to pick out a Christmas tree my flats pretty bare,” he rubs the back of his neck as if embarrassed. It's honestly kind of adorable, you brush the thought out of your mind.

“I can help you pick out a tree if you’d like. I happen to be quite the interior designer,” you cringe at the words that throng out of your mouth.

“That’d be great, I kinda suck at it,” he snorts and you chuckle along with him. You inspect him, today he didn't have a hat his disheveled fringe sat in a thatch on his head. He had a windbreaker on, sleeves bushed up haphazardly. There was a gold watch on his wrist, it was classic the hands a gleaming amber hue.

You two wander over to the Christmas trees. “See any of them you like?” You watch him as he looks over the different trees, a big tall fluffy one catches your eye, wonder filling them. “What about this one?” You look it over with him brushing the artificial needles.

“It’s… pretty," his voice was hesitant, the tone less burnished than usual.

“Oh my gosh, you hate it!” Your tone is almost playful with an undertone of alarm.

He chuckled, “No, I don’t hate it,” there was a small smirk on his face.

“Then what's wrong with it it’s like the perfect Christmas tree.” It profoundly was, it was nostalgic and had an aura of childhood around the large downy branches.

“It’s just a little too big for me to put up myself and I don't have a roommate or anything so I was looking for something maybe a little smaller.” He didn't have a roommate. He didn't have a roommate. A swell of elation filled your stomach.

“Oh. I could help you I'm free today it's my day off and I'm not busy," you commented nonchalantly attempting not to appear excited.

“If you don't mind," his tone was sanguine. A small optimistic smile on his face. He wasn't great with chicks, sure he could get into their pants, but having fortune with a woman he actually likes? He should be so lucky.

“I don't," His eyes light up and his satiny voice speaks up once again.

“Then it's a plan.” You both prop the box on the dolly before he rolls it to the checkout. On the way, you nab the snowman you had liked before and get in line behind him.

You disassociate as he checks out, involuntarily staring at him, he grins at the cashier being polite as she helps him scan the parcel. His eyes light up slightly when he looks at you and realizes you are paying attention to him.

He has a scar under his eye that you notice for the first time as his cheeks turn up when he smirks. He has a ring on his pinky finger that has a little dragon carved into it. You get lost staring at him as all these details flood your brain.

“Ma’am?” The cashier calls and Aegon places a hand on your shoulder. You startle as you realize you are staring and crimson tinges your face.

“You okay?” You nod and plod toward the cash register, embarrassment conspicuous on your face. You get the box scanned and pay for it before you both go to load the boxes into your respective cars.

Oh gosh. Of course, his car was the putrid Toyota Camry. You snicker to yourself before climbing up into your car. You lean against your wheel for a few moments watching Aegon across the lot. You tap your fingers against the wheel before starting the car and sanctioning Aegon to escort you to his apartment.

The roads of New Jersey suck. Both cars swerve out of the way of potholes about every twenty feet. Trees and bushes are overgrown on the bystreet and Aegon drives slightly erratically. It matches his personality, honestly, he was still a mystery to you. You didn't know a great deal about him other than his dog and you realize he doesn't know much about you either.

When you two arrive at his apartment building you succor him in getting the box up the stairs. The door was green and had the number 305 on it, he unlocked it with a silver key, and as soon as he opened the door loud whines were audible.

As you stood next to the box Sunfyre jumped onto Aegon like he was a family member lost to war. “Hey buddy!” he rubbed the dog's sides and back as his paws bashed into Aegon's shoulder. Sunfyre’s tongue darted out to lick Aegon's face, he attempted to pull away but all was futile against the golden retriever.

After he assaulted Aegon, Sunfyre went to you, sniffing your hand before licking it. Clearly, he’d remembered you. “Oh hi bud,” your voice inch as you spoke to the dog. Sunfyre's honey blonde tresses were neatly groomed having undoubtedly been brushed through just that morning.

Aegon commanded Sunfyre to lie down before you labored together to get the crate through the door and into the living room. You look around the apartment. It was unvarnished, to say it politely. Natural light flooded through a single uncovered window. The living room was cavernous: extensively unfurnished with only a loveseat and a coffee table stationary in the middle. A TV perched on a stand opposite the small couch. There was a draft in the room though you couldn't tell from where it was coming.

Other than the living room there was a small sepia-colored photo that sat in the kitchen you caught a glimpse of a young light-haired girl and three young light-haired boys. There was a bowl supposedly for fruit that sat empty next to the frame. A few mostly empty bottles of whiskey sat in a glass cabinet. You inch yourself into the kitchen at a slow pace.

The countertops were thinly veiled with dust. There was a dental office card left on the fridge, and a few scattered sticky notes were stuck to it. The notes had neat feminine handwriting on them. Did he have a girlfriend? A fiancé? A wife?! You glimpse a few words on the note your irrational thoughts running wild. 'Call Mom' written among them.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, his thumb was on the backside of it and you could almost feel his breath on the back of your neck. You turn to look at him with raised eyebrows. "You okay?" He queries that sly smirk still ever-present on his face. You nod and sauntered past him, his head falls to look at the ground as you make your way out of the threshold of the kitchen and into the living room.

"Would you want something to drink? Water? Hot cocoa? I do owe you," he spins the ring around his pinky as he inquires. You look up at the cream-colored walls as you respond.

"Hot cocoa, hm? Well, I might just have to take you up on it," you crack a smile. The same beverage he left the shop with yesterday he was now standing over the stovetop making. He flicked a light on in the kitchen illuminating the house further. The amber luminescence from the ceiling cast shadows on his face, you look over the curve of his nose, the fullness of his cheeks, and the gentle swoop of his platinum eyelashes.

You watch as he makes the hot chocolate, he has a formula to it as if he'd done it a million times before. "You've got skills," you lean back on the counter hands pressed against the top as you peered at him.

"It's a comfort thing, I think that's what my shrink called it?" He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. He did that often from what you could tell, laugh at uncomfortable or sad sentiments.

"What do you mean?" You lean forward to listen closer eyeing his chapped lips as he spoke. He grabbed each ingredient from their respective places, before igniting the stovetop and pouring the milk sugar and cocoa powder into the saucepan.

"I used to make it for my brothers and sisters when we were kids, so I think she said it's a coping mechanism or something now," he still had a grin on his face only now was it slightly saddened as his eyes flicked to the left as if he were remembering something long since past. He meticulously stirred the sugar and cocoa powder into the milk in the saucepan.

"I'm sorry," you whisper from beside him. He shakes his head, feeling shame. You push off the counter and step only a bit closer to him. "I don't pity you," he looks at you with a hardened expression. "How could I? I barely know you we met yesterday," he snickered down at the stove. It was a sad laugh one that pulled at your heartstrings.

"You make a fair point," he voices. He runs a hand through his bright fringe and up onto his head. You look at the clock: ten thirty-four. Your eyes widened, had it been that long since you'd arrived at Lowe's earlier that morning? Aegon pours the hot chocolate into two different cups; one was tan and green with speckles of black interspersed upon it and one with a small penguin painted on it, a red and green scarf wrapped around its neck. The latter was almost childish but it was nostalgic, homely.

He walked over to the fridge and swung it open. You peer in and don't see much. A Tupperware container sat in the right corner, and a few condiments were on the door. There's a pint of milk positioned on the second shelf next to some coffee creamer and eggs. He emerged from the fridge with a small bottle of what looked like alcohol in his hand. He proceeds to a cabinet and pulls out an unopened box of candy canes, plucks two out, and rests them on the counter.

Aegon shakes the small bottle in his hand, "Want some? It's peppermint flavored," the corner of his mouth quirks down in a half-smile. You notice a small 32% alc/vol at the bottom and cringed.

"It's also 10:30 in the morning."

"More for me then," he uncorks the top with his teeth and pours the contents of the bottle into the cup with the penguin. The irony of the image was almost sweet. At the same time though, a small pang of sadness hit your stomach. Day drinking at 10 a.m.? Someone had hurt this man, and badly. Maybe it was a parent? Or a girl? Your brain goes to one of the most unseemly places. Why would it even matter, he was cute but you didn't know him.

He plopped the candy canes in each cup respectively and handed the green and tan one to you, the curve of the candy cane hanging off the lip of the cup. "Thank you," you take a sip your soft lips taking in the drink, a hum of satisfaction leaving your mouth. You take the cup down from your lips and for the first time spot a record machine next to where Sunfyre was sat.

"How about we brighten the mood?" Your voice sounds almost romantic as you say it. His eyes fell amorous, which was strangely appealing. When you recognize the thought, you immediately rebuff it. You approach the machine in the corner and turn to him. "Do you have any records for this thing?"

"A couple," he gestures to a crate underneath the side table. You reach it and Aegon veers his side against a counter as he watches you. You kneel and look through the sparse number of records he had. You spot some Billy Joel and a band with a German-sounding name before coming across the one.

"Oh, we are listening to this," You pull out A Charlie Brown Christmas and sit it atop the negligible table.

He chuckles, "Oh yes, my sister got that for me as a gag gift."

"What's her name?" You wanted to know more about him, about his family. You shift to put the red vinyl on the platter of the record machine, setting the needle to stir on the grooves and the music begins to play. For a gag gift, it was sweet.

"Helaena she's a year younger than me," he smiles recalling his tenderhearted sister. She'd always been there for him.

“Well she sounds lovely,” you muse before turning to him with a playful grin on your face. He returned the expression, “You ready to get this party started?” You chuckle.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk like an elementary school teacher?” He chuckles and you feign being offended. A hand on your chest as you gasp and grin playfully.

“Well, I didn’t think it was that obvious but thanks,” his eyes widen, obviously nonplussed.

“Oh like you actually are?” You nod a small smirk on your lips. “Well that makes sense then,” he was almost coy. He invariably had a kind of self-satisfaction to him too. It made him appear like he could never feel anything but haughty. Maybe it was uncertainty? Or a method to conceal it? He did sometimes have the look of a lost puppy, subdued and feeble.

"Come on now," you adjure, grasping his hand and pulling him to the Christmas tree box, a bit of hot chocolate spilled over the rim. With a quick prise, you remove the tape from the box and open it. Artificial pine needles burst into the air, escaping from their smothering incarceration. You begin plucking out the pieces one by one, the cutting fluff unpleasant against your velvety hand. A wisp of the green spikes runs down your arm.

Aegon takes a slurp of his hot cocoa semi-chapped lips pursing as he swallows, the warm liquid flooding and heating his body. You begin assembling the tree asking for his assistance with the top portion. “Oh isn't this just so cute!” You exclaim a big grin on your face. “This time of year is the best,” he chuckles at your delight.

You begin to fluff up the branches on the tree, languidly dispersing them so they can fill the empty spaces and gaps. “So… do you have any ornaments or garland, lights, a topper? Anything like that?” Sunfyre gazes up at you from where he sits tongue hanging out of his mouth.

He nods, “One second,” he swivels around, his back facing you, and positions his hot chocolate on the counter as he walks away. You seize your beverage and take small sips from it while he's out of the room. You scratch the backside of Sunfyre's ear, he grumbled lowly, contented.

When Aegon reappears he has an average-sized brown box in his hands. He opens it to reveal some lights, a few ornaments, and a gold seven-pointed star topper. You reach out to grab the star, “Wow this is magnificent where did you get it from?”

“It was my mother's but she wanted me to have it so I didn't stray from the faith or whatever,” his eyebrows pinched as he mentioned his mother they must've had a strained relationship.

“Okay well it's stunning but lights first,” you unravel some warm-toned lights to swathe around the tree. Aegon helps, letting the string fall in a chaotic but visually pleasing manner. After the lights, you two arrange the few ornaments mostly childhood handmade ones and classic ball ornaments.

One of the decorations had a family photo of four blonde-haired children of similar ages, two more mature-looking women, one with auburn hair and one blonde like the four younger, and a man who looked like he could be their father. The four children resemble the ones in the sepia image on the counter next to the vacant fruit bowl, this was his family, she assumed. You look over the tree to make sure there aren’t any empty spaces to fill before turning to him.

“Ready for the star?” He nodded and you both put it on the top of the tree, his hand plunged down to your waist to ensure you didn't fall. The skin there tingled at his caress. After doing so you both collapsed on the couch Sunfyre wriggled his way onto your thighs like he thought he was a lap dog.

You looked over Aegon's face, his side profile, more specifically his nose, and lips before looking away. “Do you have flour, brown sugar, spices, and eggs here?” You inquire trying not to think about what these sensibilities denotated.

“Yep,” he smiled holding the still warm cup quickly taking a gulp of the drink. His throat bobs and his tongue runs along his lips to collect any residual droplets.

“Wanna make cookies?” She leaned into him slightly the tension between you two palpable, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Your eyes flick down to his lips before you reprimand yourself mentally.

“If I ever say no to that take me out back and shoot me in the head,” you both chuckled, he had an ardent look in his eyes. You attempted to get Sunfyre off you and arose when the doorbell rang.

Ding-Dong.

#love actually #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x you #got

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wardenparker · 1 year ago

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Vampire Waltz - ch 3

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: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Wicca, anxiety (making friends takes spoons), self-doubt, lots of secrets being kept, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: Making new friends isn't always easy, but when those new friends are the local coven sometimes it's a lot easier than you think! Notes: The portrayal of Wiccan characters in this story is based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know personally. It's very safe to say that almost all practitioners have their own special way of doing things and each coven is a little different, so we're just going with what we know. 🧡🧹🍁 A little insight into Dolly's mansion: this chapter image is the fireplace in the morning room at the real life Chateau-sur-Mer!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Waking up to no alarm, no banging or crashing around the house, and no feeling of terror at being late for work is a very strange sort of miracle. The sun is up and the clock on the mantle reads eight o’clock, but the house is silent. That in and of itself is odd, but what is stranger is that you don’t remember getting into bed last night. Popping up from the plush pillows, you find yourself covered with your own comforter and still in your clothes from yesterday, but your book is sitting neatly on the chaise and the window is shut. Did you just have the weirdest ass dream in the world about petting a bat and reading to it? You must have. Right? There is no way that actually happened…

There’s a soft knock on the door. Hearing you stir slightly has Renee waiting for you to give permission to enter before she turns the handle and smiles as she walks in. “Good morning, Dolly.” She murmurs softly. “Would you like a breakfast tray here or would you prefer to eat in the dining room?” Learning your preferences is key and since Mrs. Taylor is handling the blood from the blood bank in the kitchen right now, she doesn’t want you wandering in.

“Morning Renee.” A little groggy from the confusion of how you woke up, you dig the palm of your hand into your eye and smother a yawn. “I’ll come downstairs, you don’t have to bring a tray all the way up.” You’re more than capable of going downstairs, of course. And if your roommates are downstairs you don’t want to seem rude or standoffish.

“It’s no problem.” Renee protests. “Max and Eddie have already eaten, having early morning schedules.”

Somehow you didn’t figure Max for an early riser, but you shrug off that detail and offer her a smile. “I’ll still come down,” you decide. “Maybe a trip into town would be good today? Just to check things out and get to know the area.” It’s Mabon, but you don’t know if anyone else in the house is pagan or Wiccan or would be offended by having witchy holidays brought up, so you don’t say anything. Instead you’ll just quietly get a few fall-themed things for your room and not bother anyone else with it.

“It is the beginning of the autumn equinox, so perhaps it would be good for you to tour around.” Renee nods. “Mrs. Taylor and I will be setting the house up and Mr. Taylor will be decorating.”

“How did you—?” It’s like she was reading your mind, and you tilt your head slightly in curiosity. “I don’t suppose Newport has an autumn festival or a farmer’s market this weekend?” It’s too much to ask that there might be a community of witches nearby, but your parents’ Wiccan upbringing has seeped into your bones and happily stuck there.

The younger housekeeper nods with a small chuckle. “Of course there is. We are only two hours from Salem.” She explains. “This is a magical time of year where traditions outweigh conservatism.”

“Then I think I’ll head into town after breakfast.” The idea of fresh air and maybe hearing someone wish others a Blessed Mabon again gives you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“If you need any directions or would like to be driven around, just let me know.” Renee tells you before she hums. “Oh, would you like to drive the Volvo or the Corvette?” She asks. “Mr. Taylor was in the process of giving the Volvo a tune up, but he can have it available for you whenever you need.”

“I don’t want to bother or interrupt anyone.” You insist right away, sitting up and moving to the edge of your bed. “I guess…I’ll drive the Corvette? It’s…that is okay, right?”

“Of course.” She gives you a smile, having already concluded that you will be asking permission for things rather than just doing. Perhaps in time it will change, but she will just roll with it for now.

“Okay.” Adjusting to the idea that these things are yours to do with as you please is going to take a long time, but you nod. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, then.”

“Of course.” She repeats, nodding respectfully and turning to slip out of the room. She will let Mr. Taylor know to pull the corvette out of the carriage house and tell Mrs. Taylor that you are ready for breakfast.

******

It seems like Newport has two parts. There is the ritzy, expensive, even touristy part of town — and then there is the old New England side of things. The locals are a little crotchety but ultimately nice enough, and one even pointed out his favourite coffeeshop to you when you finally ambled your way into the farmer’s market nearby. There are farm stands and crafts people, handmade goods and stalls from small businesses selling everything from soap and tea to jewelry and housewares. It’s an autumn festival minus the feast, but with all the food for sale it won’t be hard to make a feast of your own.

“Miss?” The vendor for the Say Cheese! booth, a gourmet, small batch cheese producer, tries to catch your attention. “Would you like to try some of our caramelized onion and thyme goat cheese?” She asks, offering a tray of the creamy spread that has been smeared on crackers. “Or we have honey and fig if onions aren’t you’re thing.”

You almost want to ask if it’s okay to try both, but that seems greedy until you turn and find a girl about your age with a shiny ’She/Her’ pronoun pin affixed to her apron alongside a name tag that reads ‘Allison’ in curving, cheery lettering. A foam witch’s hat is stuck to the corner and covered in purple glitter, making it extra chipper. “That sounds wonderful,” you say instead, nodding and stepping closer to the booth.

“It is.” She insists. “Although the pumpkin spiced brie can be a little…targeted.” She laughs and shrugs. “But it’s actually pretty good.”

“I’m a big fan of pumpkin spice.” The little witch hat makes you smile and you shrug. “Don’t they say that clove, cinnamon, and ginger keep evil away in folklore? That’s most of what pumpkin spice is.”

“To be honest?” She grins conspiratorially. “Most in my coven are thrilled that it’s become so popular. Protection while not even being aware.”

“You have a—?” You nearly freeze when she says out so freely - so openly - and blow out a happy breath. Happy is an odd feeling. “Blessed Mabon.”

“Blessed Mabon.” Her smile deepens and her eyes light up with delight. “May your harvest be bountiful and your light bright.”

“May the equinox bring you abundance and joy.” That was always your mother’s favourite way to return a Mabon blessing, and you had adopted it over the years. Not that you had had anyone to celebrate with in years, but that’s different. “I—I’m so glad to meet you.” Despite Renee assuring you that there are plenty of pagans, Wiccans, and witches in Newport, you hadn’t just expected to run into one first thing.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen you here before.” Allison comments as she starts to load up a small taster plate with an assortment of cheeses for you to try. “Are you just visiting or new to the area?”

“I just moved.” Though you’re wary of giving more detail than that, this woman is beaming and friendly. “Just trying to get out and see the town a little this morning and you’re the first person I’ve actually met.”

“Then that means we are connected.” Allison beams, reaching behind her neck and removes the smoky quartz crystal that is hanging on a delicate chain. “Here. A welcoming gift for you. It had been blessed during Beltane.”

She does not mean to be anything but kind and perhaps generous, but the gesture of a gift almost has you in tears as she presses the crystal into you stunned, frozen palm. It’s such a small gesture to her, no doubt, but any kind of gift nearly has you in tears that you have to wave off quickly. “Everyone has been so kind since I got here,” you explain quickly. Everyone but Max, you think just as quickly, but she doesn’t need to know your saga. Especially when your other hand has the sample plate in it now and you can’t even recall her putting it there. “It’s overwhelming. In a good way.”

“Our community can be very friendly.” She chatters happily. “Perhaps a bit odd, but that always comes with the supernatural, right?”

"Usually." You smile a little, eventually closing your fingers around the crystal and nodding gratefully. "Thank you...Allison." Her nametag is just out there shining in the sun and you gesture toward it before you introduce yourself.

“You are most welcomed.” She hands you the plate with a slight flourish. “Please let me know what you like out of these cheeses.” She tells you. “And, if you are interested, we have the harvest bonfire tonight.”

"Really?" Again your head shoots up in surprise, and the question is muffled around a bite of the pumpkin spice brie that makes you groan immediately in delight.

“Absolutely.” She winks at you and grins at the absolute bliss on your face. “It’s the first night of the spooky season. We have an eclectic group that comes together. Maybe you would like to meet some spiritual sisters?”

"My roommates were talking about decorating the house." It's still odd to think of having roommates - of living with anyone besides Derek - but remembering the little bat from your dream does make you smile. "I haven't had a coven since college. It...would be really nice to have a community again."

“We are welcoming to all.” She promises and pulls out a little card that has the information on it. “We start a little before sundown, socialize and relax.” She tells you. “Please come. It’s always fun.”

"Thank you." Your quiet murmur is full of gratitude, and moments later when the samples are gone from the little plate, you are buying all three flavours of cheese and whatever else Allison recommends from the stand she is working at. With the ability to actually spend money comes the desire to make sure that it goes to people who will actually benefit directly from your purchases - it's going to be a lot of farmers markets for you in the future and not so much time spent in big chain grocery stores.

Once the transaction is completed, Allison smiles at you. “I hope to see you later?” She asks questioningly.

"I think so." There is always a chance you'll get too anxious and freak yourself out a bit, but you nod. You want to have the emotional energy to make new friends tonight. Maybe you'll cut your outing short earlier in the day so that you don't run out of steam. It's been a long time since you had something you actually wanted to do like this. "Is--can I bring anything?" Always taught never to show up empty handed, you'll surely end up bringing something no matter what the answer is.

“An opened mind and heart.” Allison shakes her head. “Our guests are never required to bring anything more. It will be our pleasure to host you this evening.”

"I'll see you tonight." You will make it work. And besides -- the trip out this morning will have to be quick. You've got precious cheese to get back home.

******

“I hope that she is okay.” Mrs. Taylor glances out the window with a frown on her face. “She seems like such a timid thing. So surprising about that, considering.”

“We don’t know what she’s been through,” Renee reminds the older woman, methodically working her way through folding the last of your laundry. There was a lot of it that seemed barely touched — fun things like dresses and logo tees or more fitted things — and looser, more office work clothing and jeans that are surely baggy on you, that look far more worn. “A lot’s happened in her life. Or at least…a lot could have happened.”

“It makes me want to protect her.” Mrs. Taylor admits quietly. She’s never had children of her own, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a motherly instinct. “No wonder he wanted her brought here.”

“He should have been able to protect her before now.” Renee tuts, carefully folding a sweater depicting a black cat perched like they’re in a windowsill. “But that’s none of our business, of course.”

“There were reasons.” She’s not sure what those reasons are, but there’s very little he does that doesn’t have reasoning behind it.

“I’m sure.” She isn’t, not really, but Renee has never been the one to make the decisions. She prefers it that way. “At least we can do our part in taking care of her now.”

“Of course we can. It’s why he had her brought here.” She’s incredibly proud of her role in taking care of Cookie and there is a lot of trust that was placed in her hands to do that. Renee hasn’t been with the family quite as long, so she doesn’t understand that quite yet. “Perhaps we can put together a lovely tea time when she gets back.”

“I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t come back with a few things from the farmer’s market.” The thought of you settling in makes the younger woman smile and she sets the stacks of your folded clothes into the dresser beside her. “We can make a tray with some of what she finds?” As if on cue, the front door opens and closes, the sound reverberating through the house despite being gentle. “Hopefully that’s her,” Renee hums, quickly depositing the last of your clean things in the bureau and heading for the stairs.

Nodding, Mrs. Taylor quickly follows the younger housekeeper out of the bedroom to see who has come inside. Mr. Taylor is finishing up with the car out in the carriage house but he would come in the back door.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Renee is the first to spot you, looking a little more relaxed than when you left this morning and caring many more bags. “Please, allow me.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Renee.” The fresh air has you feeling better, after having spent hours at the farmer’s market and debating whether or not to take a walk around the nearest bakery or florist shop, only to end up overwhelmed by the change in the people in those places. They were tourists - obviously wealthy and snobbish - and not nearly as friendly as the people you’d met at the market. “Only…” You separate out the bag that has your precious cheeses in it. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind putting these in the refrigerator for me? The farmer’s market had amazing things.”

“Absolutely.” She beams, happy that you had found things that you wanted at the market. “Mrs. Taylor was just suggesting putting together a tea tray for you. Would you like anything from here on it?” She asks, wanting you to have some input.

“There is a spiced plum tea and some goat cheese with fig that—” As soon as the thought begins, you frown and shake your head, becoming tight and self-conscious again. “You don’t have to trouble yourselves. I can take care of it. I—don’t want to give either of you more work than you already have.”

"Of course." She nods, but she has no intention of listening to you. There is plum tea and fig goat cheese that you have fallen in love with, so that will be added to the tray along with the tea sandwiches that Mrs. Taylor has no doubt already started making in the kitchen.

“I’ll just go and put these things upstairs first.” Crystals, candles, some waxed flowers, and cute little needlepointed pillow with a bat in a pile of leaves have all come home with you and they’re going to help your space feel a little more personal instantly.

"I'll bring the tray up in just a moment," Renee turns. "Unless you would like to have tea in the morning room?" The light is bright and airy in there and it's a lovely space for a tea service.

“You don’t have to—” Her face makes it abundantly clear that there will be a tea tray and the only conversation she’s willing to entertain about it is the location in which you will be receiving it. “The morning room would…it sounds very nice,” you admit after a breath. “Thank you, Renee.”

"There was a book on your bedside table this morning." She mentions quietly. "Would you like me to bring it down so you can read, or is that an evening book?"

“That’s an old favorite.” The hundred-year-old copy of Jane Eyre has even seeped its way into your dreams, but you enjoyed it thoroughly. “I’ll pick something else from the shelves for day reading.” It’s such a luxury, and it’s hard to process that that is your life now. Luxury. Doing whatever you want. No one is going to stop you.

"Of course." This time the nod is accompanied by a small smile before the assistant housekeeper rushes off to make sure that your tea tray includes the small little treats you had brought back from your first trip to the town.

The small bags with goodies in them are easily deposited in your room, where you notice that your childhood throw blanket with ballet slippers prominently featured has been folded and left at the bottom of your chaise, and your bed has been made again. It’s not bad, it’s just…odd. Something your great-aunt was so used to and maybe occasionally even took for granted…that you will have to remind yourself is perfectly reasonable. Refocusing yourself, you put down your bags and take the little throw pillow out, deciding to bring it down to the morning room window seat with you. It will be a sweet little thing to have with you, and you can bring it upstairs again afterward so that you don’t get in anyone’s way.

******

"She has been to the farmer's market and would like to use the plum tea and the fig goat cheese." Renee hums happily as she sweeps into the kitchen with the bag you had given her. As she had expected, the little three tiered display is already layered with little sandwiches on the bottom. She's sure some are cucumber and others are the curry chicken salad she had been experimenting with.

“I’m sure she insisted she would do it herself, and that we shouldn’t trouble ourselves?” Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow but continues her work on the tea server, adding orange flavored Madeline cakes to the top tier.

"You know she did." Renee tuts and rolls her eyes, although she's not bad mouthing you. "I will start to brew the tea."

“Did it seem she enjoyed herself at least?” The two women are very coordinated in the kitchen and move gracefully around each other as Renee starts the kettle and Mrs. Taylor puts the other cheeses away. There are some lovely crackers in the pantry that she can include to go with the cheese you particularly wanted to enjoy today.

"There was light in her eyes that was not there yesterday." Renee confirms as she brings out the silver teapot to set on the tray. Ms. Brown's favorite tea set is already laid out and tomorrow, Renee will suggest rotating the sets until they are certain of which ones that you prefer. She pulls out the canister with the sugar cubes to put into the small dish. "I would say that she enjoyed herself very much."

“We can finish decorating for the autumn this afternoon.” Mrs. Taylor decides, working quickly to make sure the tea service is just so. “Mr. Taylor brought the rest of the decorations down from the attic for us and Mr. Finchley suggested adding some garlands to the outer gates.”

“That sounds good.” Renee agrees. “I think that it will be good to have a sense of ‘life’ back in the mansion.”

“As it were.” Mrs. Taylor chuckles as she arranges the seeded crackers on the tea stand. “With so many undead about, it seems an ironic choice.”

“I honestly wonder if there doesn’t need to be a human in the house.” Renee muses. “When it was just us, there was something missing. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who felt it.”

After a moment, the younger woman hums again. “There does seem to be an extra element of activity with a human around.” For Renee, it is treasured. She was turned hundreds of years ago but she is still pulled toward humanity for so many reasons other than their blood. “Do you think…perhaps Eddie has taken a shine to her already?”

“He has.” Mrs. Taylor looks up from arranging the crackers with just the perfect amount of cheese with a hopeful smile. “I’m not sure if it’s brotherly or romantic yet, but our dear Eddie so needs another tender heart around.”

“Wonderful.” Renee sighs. “It would most wonderful for everyone to be happy.” But after a moment more of consideration, she chews on her lip and turns her head back to the older vampire. “Is Max trying to irritate Dolly?” She asks warily.

“He might be.” And it bothers the housekeeper to no end, knowing how timid you are. “He doesn’t know…” she shakes her head, carefully cutting coins of the goat cheese you found today. “If he did, he would leave well enough alone.”

“Or he would be trying to smooze her.” Renee snorts. “Which might be even worse than irritating her. If he touches her, he might stake him and not bring him back again.”

“We would be getting a surprise visit immediately if Max decided to do that.” Considering the way their boss had behaved when suitors arrived for the other young lady of the house so long ago.

Renee winces and shakes her head. “He will stay away if he knows what’s good for him.” She huffs with a smirk, knowing Max Phillips is nothing if not egotistical enough to try to play some game with you.

“But he doesn’t,” Mrs. Taylor reminds Renee as she puts the finishing touches on the food our your tea tray. “That’s how he ended up here in the first place.”

“I remember.” Renee snorts. “I had to take care of him when he was first brought back and his new skin was raw.”

“I still don’t understand why he felt strongly enough to bring Max back.” It was a mystery that Mrs. Taylor had not quite parceled out yet, but she certainly spent more time thinking about it than she let on.

“Of all the vampires he could have brought back.” Renee hums, shaking her head. “Max Phillips is the one he chose.”

“He will have had his reason.” Although what it is, Mrs. Taylor has yet to figure out. Instead she sets silverware and a cloth napkin on the service cart with the tiered server and dishes. The only thing missing now is the tea, and that should be ready momentarily.

As soon as the teapot starts to whistle, Renee pulls it off the heat and flips open the lid to the serving teapot, pouring the hot water in to infuse with the tea leaves you had brought home. Closing the lid with a satisfied smile. “There. Now I will deliver this to Dolly.”

“Will you let her know that dinner can be served wherever she likes tonight?” Mrs. Taylor wipes her hands and begins to pick up the counter right away. “Eddie and Max will both be out. I didn’t ask why, but it will be good for her to be able to relax.”

“Yes ma’am.” Renee wheels the cart out of the kitchen towards the elevator.

******

Upstairs, you have unearthed a first edition copy of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle and settled back in the window seat with your little pillow and the muted afternoon sun. Every window in the house seems to be coated with something that tints the light the barest shade of yellow and you wonder vaguely if it was some Victorian architecture fad. Or if architecture even has things like fads.

Wheeling the cart into the ‘secret’ room, Renee finds you already settled into the window seat and smiles. “Tea is served.” She announces, happy to see that you do not startle when she comes in. Yesterday you looked like you would jump out of your skin, but something about the new day seems to have settled you.

"You really didn't have to." Although you had a feeling that she might. Mrs. Taylor is the type to do things properly or not at all, and Renee is her dutiful second in command. "Thank you, of course." Grateful as you are, you put your book aside as Renee sets the cart beside you by the window.

“My pleasure.” She nods respectfully and steps back. “Mrs. Taylor and I are going to finish decorating this afternoon, but we will be available anytime you need us.”

"Thank you," you murmur again, catching a whiff of the spiced tea that you brought home and rolling over in your mind whether you want to venture out of the house tonight. Allison was so friendly, but you're nervous. "Renee...can I ask you something?"

“Anything.” Her job is to take care of the house and you are now a part of that. Anything you need, any questions you have, she will help as much as she can.

"I was invited to an event tonight." As silly as you feel about asking a virtual stranger for her opinion, Renee has been so kind to you at every turn. So you pull the little card that Allison gave you out of your pocket and hand it to the young woman. "A local coven is having a Mabon bonfire. I only..." you frown slightly, feeling small as you shrink against the wall. "I don't know if I ought to go? Or if that would be imposing too much."

There was a time that vampires and witches were enemies. At that time, she would have encouraged you to keep your distance. That had changed over the millennia and they had joined forces to keep the secrets of the world away from the humans, except for rare exceptions. “Allison?” She smiles as she looks down a the card. “You should go. I was supposed to tell you that dinner will be served wherever you wish tonight, but I think you will be out during the dinner hour.”

"I haven't had a coven in so long." When Renee hands the card back to you, it ends up cradled in your hands like precious cargo. "And she was so terribly nice."

“I know her vaguely. She’s extremely nice.” She agrees. “She would come to visit Ms. Brown sometimes.”

"Was...Ms. Brown...?" Somehow the image of this ninety-one-year-old woman that you had in your head with the first phone call from the lawyer's office has already changed twice over in the very little time you've been here, but you still hadn't expected this find out she was Wiccan.

“A witch?” Her brow arches up and she purses her lips in amusement that you cannot quite come out with the questions you need answered. “Oh yes. Probably the greatest witch in Newport, perhaps the East Coast. She oversaw the coven for years until….” She shakes her head. “Until her heart was no longer in it. Then she allowed others to take over.”

"Do you mind if I ask you what changed?" You could understand if age or infirmity had kept her from being as active in her coven, but this is not what it sounds like Renee is saying.

“She….lost someone close to her.” Renee knows she is not permitted to tell you the truth, that would have to come from him, at his discretion. However, acknowledging some of the reasoning behind Cookie’s change of heart cannot be too bad. “Very dear to her.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” It feels like intruding to ask more, so you only nod your understanding and leave the topic alone for now. “Well…thank you, Renee. Again. I think I will go out tonight after all.” It feels heavier now, somehow. More important. And there is a thought in the back of your mind that getting to know this relative you had never met by accepting the invitation of someone she knew is the best possible way to spend your night.

She bites her lip and then nods, as if making up her mind, which she has. “If the tea can hold for a few minutes, perhaps you will allow me to show you something?”

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with letting a teapot steep, and you set your book and pillow aside immediately.

“Follow me.” She asks, turning to leave the morning room through the bookcase door.

Through the hidden door in the wall and through to the library, you’re surprised when Renee crosses the room toward the marble hall and pulls open an even more hidden door in the window nook. This one has no visible knob but is activated with the pull of a false book exactly like a spooky story or horror film. A room no bigger than a closet houses an elaborate spiral staircase that seems to crawl up toward the sky and Renee beckons for you to follow. Up and up and up, the ornately carved wooden staircase just keeps going until you’re sure there can’t possibly be any house left, because you’ve counted to four floors and you were certain the place only had three.

When the stairs run out, they deliver you into the most incredible open room covered in overlapping rugs and thick, heavy, blue velvet curtains. The ceiling is painted like the night sky — blue-black with silver and gold stars and an immense chandelier that hangs high in the middle of the room. Renee has moved to the wall quickly, pressing a button that turns on the electric lights in the chandelier and lights up the room. The shape of the sloping gold and purple-fabric covered walls and ceiling tell you that you’re in the top of the East tower on the left of the house, but the point is driven home when you can see out the tinted window to the front yard. In front of the window, though, is a sizable altar all decorated in candles and a myriad of different size bowls of many materials. To the left is a bronze statue of a goddess and to the right in a black marble statue of a god - the two images presiding over the rest of the altar like the dutiful deities they are.

“This was her ‘spell room’ as Cookie liked to call it.” Renee tells you fondly. Even though they had believed that the room might never be used again, it is meticulously dusted. A labor of love to the woman who had used it before you. Now, Renee was proud to believe that the tradition of a witch in Chateau-sur-Mer would continue.

“I guess it really does run in the family…” Carefully stepping up to the altar, you hum with satisfaction to see that the goddess statue depicts Persephone and the god is Hades — favorite deities of yours, as well. “My parents were witches, too. Our altar at home had statues of Artemis and Apollo. My mother loved the idea of the balance between moon and sun.”

Renee nods, keeping her face neutral. “Another good set of deities.” She agrees.

“This is amazing…” There are elements of old traditions and new all over the room. A hand sewn broom leans against a case of carefully crafted poppets. An enormous collector cabinet dominates the far wall with labels for every herb and potion ingredient you can think of, and a circular scrying table stands ready in the middle of the room. Gothic style chairs surround it, suggesting it was used for much more than just scrying. “I never would have guessed,” you admit, looking back at Renee in wonder. “Not in a thousand years.”

“That is a good thing.” She tells you with a grin. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Then it will stay a secret.” You make a motion out zipping up your lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Is it…a secret from other people in the house?” Noticing other doors off of the room, you curiously poke your head over to see if any of the doors are open. Most are open archways, but one door is firmly shut.

“No. The - they know of it.” It was never a secret here what Cookie was, not when this was her refuge.

“Okay.” Nodding, you look back at the door and then to Renee. “Is there a key for this door?” The handle hadn’t budged when you tried it, and fortunately you hadn’t seen the maid flinch, either.

“There is a key.” She bites her lip and wonders if you want it bad enough to go in there.

“One I would assume Mrs. Taylor has?” The blinding fear of curiosity in your chest is a little nerve wracking, and you try to push it aside even though it has your blood beating in your ears. Forcing yourself to smile and step away from the door that has all of your focus narrowed on it, you swallow and feel the tingles of nerves all through your veins. “Tea will be cold if we stay up here much longer,” you decide, steadily trying to ignore the door that seems to call your name personally.

“Of course, Dolly.” She tilts her head, wondering if she had imagined the shiver that rolls through your body. She focuses on your heartbeat and finds it slightly faster than normal, which is already ticking at a nervous beat.

When you all but flee back downstairs, Renee is at your heels but leaves you to go through to the morning room alone. Or— you thought you would be alone. But when you walk in, Max is sitting in the window seat wrinkling his nose at your tea tray.

Max looks up from the tray that includes nothing bloody and the clove from the tea is nearly overwhelming. Grinning, he thinks about how you had stroked a bat who was sitting in your lap last night. “Hey Dolly.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. “Looks like you’ve settled right in. Cozy little tea?”

“Renee— a-and Mrs. Taylor…they—” There is judgement in his voice. An accusation. And instantly you are petrified of what he might think of you. “I didn’t ask for it,” you insist, hands shoved into your pockets instantly as your posture shrinks.

Your reaction is completely off kilter for his good-natured teasing. “Of course you didn’t.” He tuts. “You wouldn’t ask boo from a ghost.”

"I just went to the farmer's market and they were nice enough to make a tray for me." With your eyes trained on the rug, you shrug your shoulders and let your weight shift from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“What smells?” He asks you, moving over to the teapot. “It’s like a batch of potpourri. Very…spicy.”

“Clove and cinnamon. And I think some ginger, too.” The three ingredients remind you of what you and Allison had observed about pumpkin spice and you almost manage a smile. “It’s Plum Spice black tea.”

"It's....pungent." He comments, picking it up and lifting the lid, curling his nose up at the strong scent. Still, he pours the purplish tea into the dainty flowered cup sitting on the small plate. He picks it up and shrugs, "Whadya take in this? Flowers?'

“Flowers can be delicious,” you protest softly, but motion to the tray again. “Sugar or honey, or whatever sweetener you like. I guess you could do cream if you wanted but fruit tea never seemed like a good choice for cream to me.”

Max frowns slightly and adds one sugar cube to the tea and stirs it, before adding a drizzle of honey. Tilting his head and biting his lip as if he were performing delicate surgery before handing it to you.

“I—um…thank you…” You had fully expected him to drink it himself, and when you take the cup from him it’s like you’ve forgotten what to do with it for a second. “Would you, um …want to sit with me?“ Even the most awkward of moments deserve kindness, don’t they?

“Sure.” Max shoots you a grin and sets himself down on the other side of the window seat and uses a small pair of tongs to poke around the three tiered tray. Not even a rare roast beef finger sandwich. He huffs slightly and picks up a cream cake. “So…how did you like the town?” He asks with a smirk to hide the grimace as he takes a bite of the cake. It’s no blood pudding, that’s for sure.

“It’s beautiful.” The turning leaves and picturesque streets that you saw while driving around today were lovely. Perfect for a gorgeous fall day. “And bigger than I thought it would be. I’m pretty sure I saw a cruise ship in the harbor.”

“It’s okay.” Max shrugs as he takes another bite of the cake. “Very slow kind of life here. Am I right?”

“That’s not always bad.” You would take slow and steady over the chaos of uncertainty any day of the week, but Max seems like the kind of person who likes to stay busy.

“Maybe.” It still irks him that Evan got the best of him. Him and that little doormat girlfriend of his. Zara Beth was more to his taste, she had teeth. “Must have been a good night though? Didn’t hear any screams of terror.”

“No, no nightmares or anything like that.” In fact, you’d slept remarkably well considering it was your first night in a new place. The anxiety of uncertainty hadn’t been a problem. And you’d had lovely dreams to boot. “Do you mind if I ask you how long you’ve lived here?”

“Four years.” That admission comes with a distinct grumble.

“And you don’t like it?” You guess, from the way he seems to begrudge that little piece of information.

“It’s not bad.” He huffs. “But it’s more that I’m a --" he stops, shrugging slightly since he has no real reason to grumble besides being told to stay put.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the thing that makes it enjoyable yet.” Everything has a silver lining, you have told yourself many times. Right now your silver lining is that your tea is perfect. Who knew sugar and honey was the way to go?

Max chuckles, knowing that despite not knowing you well, a comment about orgies leaving him unfulfilled wouldn’t go over well. “Maybe. Could always get a pet.”

“That would be sweet.” All of the snacks that were put out for you amount to a sizable lunch, and it isn’t until you start eating Mrs. Taylor’s amazing food that you realize how hungry you were. “What sort of pet?”

“A fox.” Max hums, smirking slightly. “Or a bat. That would be cool.”

“Bats are sweet.” Or, at least, the one you had a dream about last night was adorable. “They get a bad reputation.”

His brow lifts and he settles back against the fluffy, embroidered pillows. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agree, taking another sip of your tea. “They’re cute. I mean cats and dogs and stuff are cute too, obviously.”

“A pet bat, huh?” Max hums, wondering if you will admit to your experience last night. “Dogs don’t like me.” It’s a natural reaction, smelling that they aren’t the top of the food chain when he’s around. “Cats just…don’t listen.” He can admire that, but as a moody creature himself, he doesn’t want that reflected in his pet.

“So you’d go for a bat instead?” It actually makes you smile, which might be the first time that you’ve ever smiled at him. It’s half from him and half remembering your extremely vivid dream. “I’ve always wondered if they like to be pet,” you admit after a second.

“They do.” Max can attest to that, but he gives you a shrug. “Watched some bat thing on NatGeo.” He explains. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Good to know.” It somehow makes the dream you had sweeter, and you smile a little wider at the knowledge. The mood between you and Max is calmer now, as if you’ve found a little common ground, as you’re silent for a moment before asking another innocuous question. “Did you have a good morning? Renee said you and Eddie left the house early.”

“Early bird gets the worm.” Max quotes with a grin. “I had some business meetings that I wanted to get out of the way before the sunset tonight.” He hums. “Too many witches out and about.”

The thought that you don’t know any places that do business meetings on Saturdays is walked away instantly by dread. “Do you…” Appetite suddenly gone, you set your teacup on its saucer. “Do you not like witches?” You can’t figure out why you should even care because you don’t much like Max, but somehow it still stings.

“Nah. They’re okay.” He watches you closely. “But I’d rather be socializing tonight than working.” He winks at you and grins.

“I mean it might not be an out-and-out party like Beltane can be, but I would hardly call celebrating Mabon work.” Just like flipping a switch in your mind, the defense that rolls off your tongue is completely automatic. Having spent many years feeling like you either shouldn’t speak about your faith at all or having to defend it when you do, you can’t help yourself — but you clamp your mouth shut immediately when you realize Max is smirking even more widely now.

“Well, well, well.” Despite your fiery outburst, which has a sensation similar to butterflies fluttering in Max’s stomach, he’s nothing short of amused. “Blessed Mabon, Dolly.” He chortles. “The witch of Newport is here to claim her throne.”

“I don’t know anything about a throne…” That definitely should have been mentioned by now if it was literal but you just can’t imagine it would be at all. “But…thank you. A blessed Mabon to you, as well.”

“So do you have plans for the night?” He waggles his brows. “We could dance naked around a fire in the garden.” He suggests playfully.

“I was invited to a bonfire.” You tell him, though it still feels odd to have been invited anywhere at all. “I met someone from the local coven while I was out today.”

“Ah.” He picks up a cracker and small medallion of cheese. “I see. You met…was it Allison or Tracy today?” He asks curiously. The witches are friendly to him, but he’s never taken it beyond flirting.

“Allison.” It takes a second to remember that Renee said that Allison had been around the house when Ms. Brown was alive, so that accounts easily for how Max knows her. “She was working at the Farmer’s Market.”

“So you’re going to the pot luck?” He asks, trying the cheese and finding it to be slightly better than the cake.

“I was planning on it.” Despite knowing he doesn’t technically have a say in what you do, you’re prepared for him to tell you no. To tell you to stay home or give you a reason not to go and meet the rest of the coven. Years upon years of experience have conditioned you to expect a ‘no’ and now you don’t even realize you’re bracing for it.

Max purses his lips and looks out the window. “A good night for it.” He agrees. “Take a sweater, Dolly.” The night can get a little cool after the sun goes down with the wind coming off the water. “It can get brisk after dark and you call if you have too much of the festive punch.” He teases with a smirk.

"I don't drink." The words are quiet but firm, and you pick up a cracker topped with a perfectly round slice of goat cheese. "But I'll bring a sweater." The obediance is automatic, but you dont know if he's giving orders on purpose. Or if he's just trying to give a kind suggestion and your mind has been actively rewired to perceive it as an order.

“So why don’t you drink?” Max asks, keeping his tone conversational for once instead of slightly mocking. You’re still young, and it’s not a religious thing.

"Ex-boyfriend was an alcoholic." It's only just starting to feel real, the 'ex' part, but you shrug. "I know not everyone who drinks overdoes it, but I just...don't like it anymore. Not when I've seen what it can do to someone." Someone I love is the end of that thought, but surely alcohol has fucked up a whole lot of lives that you personally had nothing to do with.

Max’s eyes narrow, his hands - idly playing with the edge of a pillow braid curls into a tight fist - entire body tensing as he sense that there is a lot more to that statement. “Really?” For all his cocksure bravado, Max had manners instilled into him by his own father. And suddenly the actions that seemed bashful when he first met you are making more sense. “Did he drink himself to death?”

"No." When you shake your head, your eyes are back down on the rug immediately. "He drank himself into debt, into irresponsibility, and into anger." Violence would be a more accurate word, but you're not ready to talk about that yet. Not at all. "It--it's lucky that I had this house to come to. That's all."

It’s a good thing that you are looking away from him at the moment, because Max’s eyes flash a deep and unnatural yellow before shifting back into their normal brown as he forces himself to relax. You aren’t his to protect and he doesn’t know why he wants to protect you. He doesn’t know you. “Then it’s good Cookie gave it to you.” He tells you simply, truthfully. He clears his throat and stands up, brushing his tweed pants off and adjusting the cufflinks that are too formal for a Saturday afternoon. “Well….I have some calls to make.” He tells you awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to your tea. Enjoy your Mabon, Dolly.”

"Thank you, Max." It has been unexpected to have so many people around you be supportive about your faith, but what is on your mind more is now that you worry you've said too much. You can't tell if he's affected by your reason for not drinking or simply finds you dull or even prim for the decision, but at least he didn't tease you. That counts for a lot.

Max stares at you for a moment before he nods, turning around and walking out of the main door of the morning room, the sound of his dress shoes quickly fading inside the house.

******

It takes an hour standing in front of the armoire in your room before you finally pull out a dress and tights that are great fall colors. Grabbing a sweater is almost an afterthought, but you did make a promise. And promises are meant to be kept, so you shrug a cardigan on over your shoulders and pull on a pair of boots before going into your dressing room. Renee has set up your few pieces of jewelry and grand total of two purses here along with all of the makeup that Derek used to insist that you wear to look ‘normal’. Ultimately you leave the house in minimal makeup with the sweater you promised you would wear, and the warming container full of stew that Mrs. Taylor had brought upstairs to send with you to the potluck. Apparently it had been a favourite when Ms. Brown used to host the coven at Chateau-sur-Mer.

“While Dolly is out, you can have your ‘wine’.” Mrs. Taylor is almost snickering as she sets a goblet of deep red blood in front of Max when he comes strolling into the kitchen. “I keep telling you that one of those tumbler things with a straw would be less conspicuous, but you like to be dramatic.”

“He calls it a bottle,” Eddie rolls his eyes in amusement as he accepts his favourite coffee mug from Mrs. Taylor, also full of blood. “But I think that’s pretty appropriate since he’s being a big baby about it.”

“It’s Gothically classy.” Max huffs, picking up the wine glass and taking a large gulp of the warmed blood. “Besides, someone would end up putting ice in it, ruining it.”

“No one would touch your drink, dear.” Mrs. Taylor assures him without doubt. “But enjoy your Gothically classy wine glass. I don’t expect Dolly will be home very early.”

“No, she’s going to the coven’s thing.” Max shoots the old housekeeper a smirk. “Did you make her the same thing that Cookie would take?”

“Of course I did.” Mrs. Taylor answers, huffing slightly like she’s offended he would even ask. Her homemade sausage and lentil stew was a favourite of the coven’s and she would never have sent anything else. “So you two will have blood sausage with dinner tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.” Max rolls his eyes happily as he licks his blood red lips. “That will be delicious.”

“Just because a few things will change around here doesn’t mean we aren’t going to take care of you.” Even if that was the kind of women she and Renee were, Mrs. Taylor knows that he wouldn’t stand for it.

“Has anyone heard from the big guy?” Max asks as he looks around the room. “Figured he’d be here today of all days.”

“He was detained on business.” Mrs. Taylor reports, lying very smoothly through her teeth. The one man that everyone in this house reports to had arrived when the rest of the household was otherwise distracted. “I’m sure that when he decides when to reveal himself, we will all be made very aware.”

If Max thought he was dramatic, he had nothing on the man who had sired him. Rolling his eyes, he shrugs. It’s not like the man had come back to magically release him from this house arrest. “I just assumed he would be back here. Since his soulmate loved Mabon.”

“She certainly did.” Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, Mrs. Taylor turns around to face the two men. “And it seems as though not so much will have changed in this house.”

“Talk about weird.” Max snorts. “Wonder why it’s this witch.”

“I’m sure Ms. Brown had her reasons.” Mrs. Taylor’s own penchant for the enigmatic is as well documented as any other member of the family, and Eddie chuckles when the housekeeper simply smiles and moves on to the next chore.

“Alright then,” he huffs in amusement. “Keep your secrets. We’ll find out eventually.”

“Anyway.” Max shakes his head, “I’m going to go get ready.” He tells the group, draining the last of his blood. “See if I can’t go seduce one of the pretty witches who are feeling spunky tonight.” He smirks, winking at Eddie and sailing out of the room whistling the theme song of The Craft movie, Love Spit Love.

******

The warmth from the sun is starting to dissipate by the time you arrive at the sweet little Dutch colonial that Allison shares with her sisters Tracy and Kristin. The family home had been the center of a farm a few hundred years ago, according to what Allison had told you earlier today, but now what they had left was their farmhouse and its small backyard, and they were perfectly happy with that. A half dozen cars are already outside when you park the Corvette, feeling conspicuous but grateful that Mrs. Taylor had sent you with a dish. Alison gave you no hint that it was a potluck.

"You came!" Before you are already out of the car, Allison has opened the door. Greeting you like a dear friend. "Oh - you are our guest," she tuts when she sees you grab the dish out of the passenger seat. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to bring something."

“I couldn’t possibly come empty-handed.” Even though it almost happened, you would have been extremely embarrassed if it had. As it is, you are happy to hand over the dish that Mrs. Taylor so lovingly crafted and packed. “I’m…I’m told it’s an old favourite of the coven,” you murmur, not having told her who you are or where you live when you met earlier today. Why would you? But now it seems essential.

"Oh?" Her curiosity is peaked for all of three seconds until she smells the casserole from the edges of the top. "Oh my god!" She cries. "Is that- that's the sausage and lentils that Cookie Brown would bring?" Her eyes widen and she looks at you with a sense of gratefulness and surprise. "How did you--"

“I—I didn’t know Ms. Brown,” you preface your explanation immediately. “But it seems we were related. And she left me her estate in her will. Mrs. Taylor…she’s amazing. And wouldn’t let me come without bringing this for all of you.”

“Ohhhh bless you both.” She tilts her head in curiosity, wanting to ask if you know about the residents of the mansion, Ms. Brown had confided in the coven about them, but she doesn’t ask you. Figuring she didn’t want to open that can of worms if you didn’t.

“I understand Cookie used to hold events for the coven fairly frequently?” It’s no wonder, being only one person - or three, with Max and Eddie there - and having all that space. “I would be happy to do the same. And I know Mrs. Taylor would be, too.”

She's startled for a moment, amazed that you would offer the space back to the coven if you aren't practicing. "That is very kind." She smiles. "We will have to see about showing you what some of the events at the manor would look like." She giggles. "We had talked for years about having a ball."

“I guess she used to have them all the time. You know…when she was younger?” Following Allison into the farmhouse, the sense of calm and scent of spice in the air reminds you distinctly of the Mabons of your childhood. “My roommates and I…well, they were encouraging me…we were talking yesterday about maybe having a masquerade.”

"That would be a wonderful thing." Allison sets the dish down amongst the others on the table and guides you towards the drink table. "I can imagine it would be a beautiful thing. If you do decide to hold one, please let me know what I could do to help."

“I would love the help, honestly. I have no idea what I’m doing but it sounds so nice.” A large slow cooker of warm, spiced apple cider stands at the ready and you defer to that happily when offered a drink. “But thank you for inviting me tonight. I really…I had no idea there would be witches here when I moved.”

"Our coven isn't quite as publicized as the ones near Salem, but we are well known on the eastern seaboard." She boasts, proud of that fact. "But it's more of a myth than anything else."

“A myth?” People are milling around greeting each other with enthusiastic hugs, so you get the feeling that you might be the only ‘guest’ here tonight. It gives you a slight feeling of needing to cling to Allison, and you eagerly ask for the story if she’s willing to tell it instead of daring to meet more new people just yet.

She smiles softly, her expression turning slightly dreamy. "It's one that you might not believe." She cautions. "But back nearly two hundred years ago, the head of our coven was soulmates with a vampire. Their love changing magic and this area forever."

“But…” Your brow furrows immediately, confusion and incredulity more than anything else — but you also don’t want to sound rude. “Vampires…they don’t exist?”

She tilts her head, shrugging slightly. "Hence why it's a myth." She won't correct you, since you obviously don't know about the residents and staff that are near you every day. "But it's said that the vampire who was her mate was incredibly devoted to her. Not caring that they were historical enemies and proving his love for her was real. His marks matching hers and his heart jumping to life when she was near. Feeding her some of his blood to prolong her life well beyond a mere mortal's existence until she was ready to shuck her mortal coil."

“It sounds terribly romantic.” The spice of the cider in your cup is a welcome sip, making you almost hum in pleasure. “A soulmate to help you live forever sounds…daunting, though. I suppose happiness makes it worthwhile.” Not that you can particularly relate on that front, but you can dream. An eternity with Derek might have been what killed you, not kept you alive.

"It would." Allison agrees, her own cup of cider is curled up to her lips. "I hope that one day I find my soulmate and he's that devoted to me."

“I don’t see how he couldn’t be,” you promise her with a wistful smile. “You’re too sweet to have anything else.”

She hums happily and shrugs. "I don't know, might be horrible to live with." She winks and reaches forward to curl her arm through yours.

Allison leads you out the back door of the kitchen to the small patio just outside where a dozen or so other women have now congregated with their drinks. They have all noticed you at this point but no one has questioned your appearance at all. Allison has a bit of a history of picking up interesting strays and bringing them home.

"So we don't have many male members of the coven." Allison admits. "Few want to admit that they practice, so it's just going to be us ladies tonight."

"The only man I've ever known in a coven was my father." You tell her with a small shrug. "It's a shame that it's still rare."

"Being Wiccan or having a coven is still one of those things that is viewed as feminine in a lot of mindsets." She huffs. "Although Ms. Brown's soulmate always came with her when he was available, even if he wasn't practicing."

"I know it's just because I miss her." A short woman with bright orange, curly hair and wide glasses comes out of the house behind where you and Allison are standing with a confused expression on her face. "But I could have sworn I smelled Cookie's lentil stew coming through the kitchen. Wishful thinking, I guess."

"Actually..." Allison smiles. "Candice....our guest here brought Cookie's lentil stew. She's related to our gal and inherited her house."

"No!" Candice gasps, but her face lights up with excitement. "That's so fantastic! I mean we all miss Cookie so much but I'm so glad to know that her legacy is continuing on."

"She seems like she was a very special woman." There is anxiety in the way you shift your feet, but you smile. "Unfortunately, I didn't know her at all."

“I’m so sorry.” Candice frowns and reaches out to touch your arm. “She was well respected and loved in the coven. If you want us to tell you about her, just ask.”

"I would really like that, actually. My roommates have only told me a little bit so far." Granted it has only been two days, but it's almost like Mrs. Taylor and Renee are afraid to say too much. And if that's true, you have to wonder what they're so afraid of.

“I’ve told her about our coven legend.” Allison tells Candice, knowing the chatty witch would spread the word. “About the witch and the vampire soulmates? She likes the story.”

“I know everybody thinks vampires are folklore,” Candice laughs, waving it off like it’s the silliest thing in the world. “But those are the same people who think magic isn’t real. So I guess ignorance is bliss.”

Allison smiles blandly, eyeing her fellow witch. “Of course.” She hums. “Come on.” She tells you. “Let’s go get you settled.”

The introductions seem endless. Every one is very nice and very glad to hear of the relationship you apparently hold to their old friend. It’s only when Allison’s sisters are giving you a little tour of the house and refreshing your drink that Candice pulls Allison aside. “She doesn’t know, does she?” The older woman asks, chewing on her lip with nerves.

"Not a clue." Allison keeps her eyes on the stairs, making sure that you aren't coming downstairs. "I'm not sure what is going on, but it seems like she has no idea that her 'roommates' are vampires. Or that our legend is real and was her relative."

“Gods.” Candice exhales deeply and shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a secret to keep while she’s in that house.”

"I'm sure there is a reason that it's being kept from her." She murmurs softy. "We just need to make sure that we aren't the ones to tell her."

“We zip our lips and throw away the key,” Candice agrees. “He was always nice enough to us when we met him, but the last thing I want to to make him upset.”

Allison snorts at the understatement of the year. "He did manage to steal from the devil after all." She reminds Candice with a knowing look. "I wouldn't want to upset him either."

“Never.” With another shake of her head, Candice huffs a laugh. “But I like her. She seems sweet.”

"She seems...." Allison flounders for a better word than what springs to mind, but none come to mind. "Broken." She voices, her tone concerned and sad. "Like maybe Newport is a haven for her."

“I would’ve said skittish,” Candice admits, but she smiles softly. “Fate had you stumble into each other’s paths this morning. Now it’s up to us to offer her family. Who knows what’s happened? The best we can do is offer her open arms.” It’s what Cookie would have done, and they all know it. So for her, they will make sure you are safe here.

"We will protect her." Allison agrees. "I will visit Mrs. Taylor tomorrow to see what the plan is for having her in their household."

“Tell her we said hello.” The whole coven loves Cookie’s vampiric housekeeper, but Candice in particular loved all of Mrs. Taylor’s stories about the ‘good old days’ of pre-plague England.

"Of course I will." Allison knows that Mrs. Taylor will insist on sending back some cookies or a cake to the coven of witches who had been regular visitors to the mansion while Cookie had been alive.

“Good.” Candice told her head slightly when she catches sight of you coming downstairs with Tracy. “Lets start the fire up and sit down to eat. This night just got a lot more important.”

The fire is crackling, lighting up the back yard and the logs that have been situated around them in a generous circle. Providing seating that is inviting and natural. All of you drifting out to gather around it after filling your bellies with the food, the lentil stew completely demolished with appreciative groans of happiness.

Prayers and wishes of plenty are shared for the equinox. An opportunity to cleanse before the new year starts is always appreciated, and bay leaves with refreshing wishes written on them are dropped one by one into the fire until everyone sits back again and begins to chat amongst themselves. The night is beautiful, and you hug your sweater around yourself — glad for just a moment that Max had suggested it. The temperature has dropped sharply tonight and you have to wonder if it’s due to being so close to the ocean.

At first, the bat isn’t noticed, sitting on the branch of a tree just outside of the dancing light from the fire. Black, beady eyes taking in the ground and then flapping his wings to take flight, honing in on one particular witch.

Allison had been asking you something animated about living in Nashville when you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. Black wings blend into the darkness easily, but as the little figure gets closer to the fire you can make it out perfectly. “Gods!” You almost startled but the gasping sound you make it delighted. “You’re real!”

Max squawks as the bat, circling your head twice as the entire coven watches with various expressions of bewilderment at the appearance of the vampire. Everyone knows you don’t know about the feeding habits of your roommates, so why are you familiar with the bat form of one of them? He lands on your shoulder again and ruffles his wings as he folds them up, his face turned towards you expectantly.

“Hey cutie,” you greet the little creature the same way you did last night, deciding to grapple with the fact that you obviously didn’t dream the entire thing later. For now you put you hand up gently and pet the bat’s little head with two fingers. “How’d you find me so far from home, huh?”

Max chirps indignantly and flaps his wings at you. Insulted by the idea that this was far from home.

“Alright, so you’re a very crafty bat, then. I’ll give you that.” Your fingers pet the little creature’s head gently and you smile, instantly more relaxed. “Could’ve sworn bats were supposed to be blind, though. I feel like you’re looking right at me.”

He would roll his eyes at you, but he just nuzzles into your hand and hops up closer to your neck. Feeling the warmth from your body and sensing your pulse. Craving the closeness tonight.

“This little guy flew in my window last night,” you explain to Allison and several other nearby witches who look nothing short of shocked. “I could have sworn I dreamt the whole thing, but look at this. He found me again.”

“That bat?” Allison asks, watching as the larger than normal bat turns his head and she swears he winks at her before nuzzling you.

“Yeah.” The feeling of having the little guy nuzzle into your neck makes you laugh. “Weird, right? I always thought bats stayed away from humans.”

“Some of them are apparently friendly.” Candice snorts, watching as a vampire stake his claim on you. That’s the only thing that it could be. While he had come to plenty of ceremonies, never had he been in any form but his normal self. Where this had to be Max. Cookie had said he was a black bat.

“He let me read to him.” Knowing that it actually happened and wasn’t just a cute little dream basically lights you up inside like a little goth Disney Princess. “Cutest thing in the world.”

The little bat preens, as if he understands what’s being said about him, because he does. Max chirps and stomps his little bat feet on your shoulder.

“You don’t…mind him, right?” Just because you think he’s cute as all hell doesn’t mean the other coven members will, and you raise your eyes to Allison with concern and care. “I wouldn’t bring him in your house. I promise.”

“I think that he will go where he wants.” She tells you diplomatically with a small smile on her face.

“Maybe.” Bats are wild animals, after all. Even as cute as this one is, that doesn’t make it a pet. “I just think he’s sweet.”

The other witches giggle and ‘awww’ over the sight of the bat on your shoulder, all of them aware of his true nature. “Bats are sweet.” Allison agrees with a grin.

“Who knew?” Candice all but giggles. “I always thought bats were a little dickish. Like little winged misogynists.”

Max ruffles his wings, glowering at the witch and huffing, the sound coming out as little squeaks.

“Aww, it’s okay cutie.” The chattering by your ear makes you laugh softly and you pet him again. “You’re just a softie.”

He settles to your touch, cuddling against your hand and deciding that he’s not close enough. The next time you move your hand to pet him, he jumps into your palm.

It earns a wistful sighing noise from a few surprised witches nearby and a giggle from you. “You want cuddles again, don’t you?” Looking back at Allison and Candice, you shrug a little as you cuddle the bat to your chest. “Last night I made him a little nest to sit in my lap while I read.”

Max grins as he burrows into your chest. Unhappy that he’s not skin-to-fur, but at least he’s getting to cuddle into your breasts. Not that he’s trying to be creepy, but you are snuggling him to his favorite part on a woman and you are gorgeous to him.

“That’s super cute.” Candice can barely contain her laughter with the image in front of her, but she sips her cider and smirks. “So how are you getting along with your roommates?” She prompts, keeping her tone light and airy.

“Oh! Um…Okay, I think?” Really, everything about having this little bat with you is oddly comforting, but you do get a faint whiff of something weird like…sunscreen? Maybe? Which is weird but not off putting. You had just never heard that bats smell like sunscreen. “Eddie is really nice. And I don’t…I don’t know Max very well yet.”

Max the bat, coos at you in soft protest. He’s the one that’s spent the most time with out of all of them. Even putting you to bed last night after you had fallen asleep reading to him.

If you had known it was him — had any idea whatsoever — you might have laughed. A stifled giggle if nothing else. But since you have no idea, you just pet the little creature and shrug as Candice asks, “Max hasn’t been nice?”

“I think I’m not what he expected,” you admit with a small frown, thinking of his behavior at dinner the night before. “But he was very nice today. Mrs. Taylor made a beautiful tea tray with some of the cheese I got from Allison today and Max and I shared it.”

“Max shared tea with you?” Candice raises her brow. “It’s rare that Max really socializes. So if he’s spending any time with you, I bet you he’s finding you interesting.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” Despite sitting here at a coven gathering with a snuggly bat in your palm and the keys to a mysteriously inherited mansion in your purse, you shrug. “I’m not particularly interesting.”

Max flaps his wings, fluttering and against your chest again. Snuggling his head into your skin against your heartbeat.

“Maybe he thinks you are?” Candice offers, trying very hard not to giggle and give the apparently secret identity of your little friend away.

He doesn’t know why the witches are giggling, no one knows it’s him. Perfectly disguised for the evening to watch over you, since he’s felt the need to see what you are up to.

“Maybe.” Though you shrug, you can’t think why someone as sophisticated and obviously worldly as Max would care. “I suppose new things are interesting for a time.”

Max frowns, unsure why someone as pretty as you would have such a negative outlook. You should be flaunting your health and beauty.

“Sometimes new things stay interesting for a long time,” Allison smiles kindly and pats your knee. “You never know which new things can become old habit.”

______

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frost-queen · 6 days ago

Text

Consuming darkness (Reader x Charles & Edwin)

Requested by: @sparklybirdtrash Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @p0nycurtis

“Let me help you.” – Charles called out coming running over. You smiled reaching your hand out to him. Already opening your mouth to thank him when he brushed past you, reaching for Crystal behind you in the mud pool. Crystal was sputtering loud with annoyance. Splashing her hands on the mud with anger. Embarrassed you lowered your hand, glancing over your shoulder. Crystal took his hand as Charles started pulling her out of the mud.

You watched her move to the side, Charles dragging her over the edge onto the grass. Crystal wiped some mud off her face with a grunt. Charles helped her up as Crystal shoved his hands off her. – “Great idea Charles!” – she called out annoyed getting up herself. – “Sure what’s the worst that could happen.” – she said sarcastically. – “I had to think fast!” – Charles replied in defence. Crystal puffed loud with a roll of her eyes. She shoved Charles aside. Charles looked questionable at her. – “Charles…” – you said holding your hand out so that he could help you.

Charles scoffed loud going after Crystal. – “Ouch…” – you told yourself, sitting alone in the mud pool. Using your arms, you pushed yourself closer to the edge. Plopping your muddy arms out of the pool, dropping them onto the grass. Grabbing for it to pull your weight up. Needing to use all your might to get out. It would’ve been easier if Charles had just helped you. Your body rolled over on the grass, laying on your back, panting. The sky a clean canvas.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you wanted to bury your emotions away. Allowing yourself to cry would just make it more real. The lies you had been telling yourself over the course of time, fading. Everything will be alright. It will all be fine. It’s just temporary. Lately it didn’t feel like it. With a deep exhale you sat up. Pressing your lips together to pull yourself together.

You found your friends after a while. Joining the three of them quietly. – “I need a bath.” – Crystal whined out. – “That indeed.” – Edwin pointed out with a sarcastic smile. Crystal rolled her eyes at him, shoving him by the shoulder. – “Au.” – Edwin whispered falling in line with Charles after her. Another punch to the gut as your friends didn’t even seem to acknowledge you. Or even ask if you were alright. Giving yourself a good shake, the mud disappeared.

Back in Crystal apartment, you followed Charles and Edwin through the walls. Crystal warned no one to enter the bathroom with a clear glare. Charles pulled his hands up as Edwin kept his hands neatly in front of him. – “As if.” – he told her, taking a u-turn and leaving. The boys started roaming her room. Edwin looking at the few books in her room, making a ghastly sound at her awful taste. Charles started looking at some trinkets as you moved to the back of the room.

Charles eyes suddenly widened, turning to Edwin. – “Have you seen…” – he asked but before he could finish his sentence, you replied. – “Right here.” – you held your hand up, making your friends look in your direction. You lowered your hand, looking away. Edwin breathed in, wanting to speak when they heard Crystal shout frustratedly from inside the bathroom.

“Need any help Crystal?” – Charles called out to tease her. – “No!” – Crystal shouted back at him, knowing he might just dare. Charles chuckled amusingly. After a long time Crystal came out. – “I never want to see mud in my life again.” – she grunted out. – “I see the mud bath has not done miracles for your skin.” – Edwin answered with a sarcastic smile. – “You are lucky I don’t have any mud to throw at you.” – Crystal replied making Charles snicker loud. Edwin rolled his eyes at her, turning his posture away from her.

The skies darkened, silencing the world. Only a few fools wandering the streets at night. The little bell rang from Tragic Mike’s shop. He barely lifted his head up, still focusing on the newspaper he was reading. Crystal walked up to his counter, laying her elbows on top. Smiling sweetly back at him.

Tragic Mike sighed loud, lowering his newspaper. – “What now?” – he asked. – “Hi Tragic Mike.” – you greeted him. – “Hi Y/n.” – he answered happily. His smile gone when he turned to face Crystal once more. – “Got something to stop a demon from messing with your head?” – she asked leaning over the counter. Charles looked uneasy over his shoulder, hands stuffed in his jacket.

“I’ll have to see.” – he answered, already turning half his posture away from her. Crystal’s eyes fell on a bottle filled with complete blackness. Curious she grabbed for it over the counter. – “Oh what’s this?” – she questioned. Tragic Mike turned back, panic in his eyes as he launched at her. – “Careful!” – he called out as it made Crystal jump out of her skin.

“That… that is complete darkness.” – he informed her with a warning. – “Something you do not wish to unleash.” – he gestured for her to give him the bottle back. Gently and with care. – “What’s so scary about some darkness?” – Crystal asked. It almost gave Tragic Mike a heart-attack at how careless she was about darkness.

“If it consumes you, there will be nothing. Just complete nothingness and darkness for eternity. No happy afterlife or even torture in hell, just emptiness.” – He warned her once more. Crystal swallowed nervously, setting the bottle on the counter. – “About my demon problem.” – Crystal pressed on making him sigh loud. He left his counter to go and search for something in the back.

Charles came closer to the bottle. – “Don’t touch that!” – Edwin warned him when he saw his mate’s eager hands go for it. Charles pulled his hand down, bending through his knees to observe it from much closer. – “Funny how this little thing can cause so much.” – Charles spoke. – “Looks can deceive.” – you answered glancing unintended to Crystal.

“Just stay away.” – Edwin called out, not wanting this on his hands. – “Where does one bottle even darkness?” – Crystal questioned while they were waiting for Tragic Mike to return. – “Shadows?” – Charles answered unbothered. Edwin throwing him a side-eye at how wrong that answer was.

“Inky pools.” – Edwin corrected him. – “And where does one find those?” – Crystal answered still not satisfied with the answer. – “The land of dreams and nightmares.” – you filled in for them. Making the three of them look at you.

You saw Crystal gawk confused at you making you untangle your crossed arms. – “The realm of an endless. More specific the lord of dreams and nightmares.” – you told them. Rolling with your eyes, you made it easier for Crystal to understand. – “You might know him as the sandman.” – you ended. Edwin looking proudly your way.

“Honestly don’t you read.” – you bit at Crystal slightly annoyed. Crystal looked back at the little bottle, feeling a shudder go down her spine. – “That thing is giving me the creeps.” – she said out loud. Tragic Mike returned with something small. He handed it over to Crystal. The three of you started to head out as Crystal was right behind you. Re-adjusting her bag better over her shoulder.

Edwin came standing beside you, taking a hold of his jacket. – “I was very impressed with your knowledge Y/n.” – he told you. – “Well you can’t be the only smart-one can you?” – you teased letting your hip bump against his. Edwin chuckled. It made you smile back at him, feeling that bit return from the old days.

When it was just the three of you. No crystal and only worrying about finishing cases. Edwin gave you a playful bump against your shoulder. The two of you followed Charles and Crystal back to the apartment. They were chatting when a crow came flying near Crystal. Making her panic and flap her hands around.

“Shoo, get lost!” – Charles would shout, swaying his arm around. Blindly stumbled Crystal backwards, bumping against a trashcan. Nearly stumbling over it, she turned to grab it fully arms wrapped around it. – “Beat it!” – Charles shouted as the crow suddenly took off.

Edwin and you came running over. – “Everything alright?” – Charles asked, taking Crystal by her arm to help her up. – “That stupid crow!” – Crystal cursed out. – “Crystal… your bag… is leaking…” – Edwin pointed out seeing the stain grow larger. – “Shit!” – Crystal called out, opening her bag. – “Double shit!” – she cursed seeing the glass inside her bag. Charles plucked her bag from her, taking a look for himself inside. His eyes widening with fear. – “Crystal.” – he said calmly but feeling himself get closer to panic. – “Don’t tell me you nicked the darkness!” – he asked.

“What?” – Edwin called out. Crystal didn’t meet up with Charles’s cold stare. Stuttering over her words to form any. – “Crystal!” – Charles shouted loud, startling her. – “I…I thought we could use it.” – she answered making Charles turn round, pinching his nose-bridge. – “Do you have any idea what you have just unleashed into this world?” – Charles shouted at her with rage.

“I…I’m sorry.” – Crystal replied embarrassed. – “Sorry isn’t going to help us!” – Charles raged out. You walked over to Charles, snatching the bag from him. Walking off a bit, you threw the bag away. – “Hey!” – Crystal called out as Charles kept her maintained. – “Edwin. What do we do?” – Charles asked without keeping his gaze away from Crystal with anger.

Edwin was pacing back and forth, thinking. – “I…I don’t know.” – he confessed. You had an uneasy feeling, slowly turning around. A hauntingly feeling creeping over you. You had eyes on an alleyway. Darkness in the distance. Slowly creeping closer leaving nothing but pitch blackness.

It made you gasp soft as if caught by the throat by it. Feeling as if the darkness was marking you. The darkness moving over the brick walls, swallowing them hole to cover in complete night. No shadows to make up, just complete emptiness. Mesmerized by it, you couldn’t move. Pinned to the ground waiting till it stretched out to you.

“We need to go!” – you heard Charles shout somewhere behind you. – “Y/n!” – Edwin called out coming over. He grabbed you firm by the hand, pulling you with him. Your feet finally coming in motion as they followed Edwin’s rhythm. Panting loud, you looked over your shoulder, seeing the darkness linger.

You all ran back to her apartment with the meaning of haste. Crystal shut the door behind her, out of breath. – “Wonderful, just bloody wonderful.” – Charles called out to Crystal. – “Look I already said I’m sorry.” – Crystal answered bitsy. Charles stepped up to her, making her move back against the wall.

His anger still clear in his eyes. – “Are you daft? You’ve just unleashed something worse than death into the city.” – Charles shouted at her, coming all up in her face. – “Charles!” – Edwin called out to make him back off. You walked up to Charles, taking him by his arm. Charles brushed your hand off by moving his arm up. Not wanting to be touched now. With one last glare at her, he backed away. – “Look maybe… maybe it will be alright?” – Crystal said to ease the situation. Only to receive another glare from Charles.

“Edwin you better dip that nose of yours in the books.” – Charles ushered. – “Already on it.” – Edwin let out, already with a book in his hand. You wandered to the window, looking outside. Swallowing nervously as you saw the darkness at the horizon. Creeping up as it felt like staring into your soul. If the rumours were true, you knew what it meant. The darkness having targeted you to claim. Stopping at nothing till it has fully consumed you. Leaving you to a faith worser than death.

You looked over your shoulder at your best friends. Charles walking through the mirror at Edwin’s shouts. Edwin sticking half through the mirror to shout directions. Books being carefully thrown through the mirror onto the ground. Gaze lowering you knew it would be pointless.

Looking back at the door, you saw Crystal sit down, panicking with tears at what she had done. She thought it would harmless. That they could use it someday for an enemy undefeatable. Unfortunately nothing could tame the darkness. Staring back out of the window, you saw the darkness across the street. Slowly coming closer with eager hands to snatch their prey.

Taking a deep determined breath, you moved away from the window. Going over to her nightstand to light the lamp. You then went around the room lighting every light that was possible. – “What are you doing?” – Crystal sniffed, looking confused at you.

“Every element has a counter-part. Earth and air. Fire and water.” – you explained to her. – “Darkness and light.” – Edwin cut through with a thoughtful glance. – “It is worth the try.” – you replied. Edwin popped his head back through the mirror, shouting at Charles. – “Do you have any flashlights?” – you asked Crystal. She wiped her tears away, nodding shakily. She went to fetch them, feeling the darkness at the doorstep. Crystal handed you two flashlights. You gave one back to her. She clamped onto it, lighting it. Her room brightly lit.

Edwin popped his head out of the mirror to look around. He then shoved it back in, shouting orders at Charles who tried not to crumble under the pressure. You opened the door, coming to stand in the hallway. Seeing it creep up the stairs. – “It’s here!” – you shouted loud. It made Crystal whimper loud. You flashed your light down on the stairs. Seeing the darkness part where the light fell. It wasn’t enough sniff it out. The light in the hallway above your head started to flicker.

Making you gasp loud and look up. The light flickering as you begged for it to stay lit. Then the light was cut leaving you in the dark. The darkness making a bellowing sound. It made you widen your eyes as now your flashlight seemed to falter as well. Almost as if the darkness was manipulating it. Frightened, you dropped your flashlight whilst stumbling back.

Running back into the room, you shut the door behind you. You took Crystal by the arm, pulling her as far away from the door as you could. Crystal’s eyes widened when she saw her door disappear. A blackness wallowing over it like consuming air. – “Edwin!” – Crystal shouted in a panic. Edwin gasped in a panic, pulling Charles out of the mirror with him.

Crystal shone her flashlight in front of her with shaky knees. Charles pulling her further back. Edwin knelt down trying to light a match. A lantern standing in front of him. Something Charles had taken with him through the mirror.

Edwin kept glancing over his shoulder to the darkness as it crept closer. The darkness started to stretch. Long lines of darkness like hands pulling out of the darkness. Charles staring in terror as he pulled Crystal closer to him. Crystal had her eyes closed, face buried against Charles’s chest.

Yet the darkness didn’t reach for them. Charles’s gaze went up to you, still backing up near the window. Seeing how they were coming after you. – “Edwin!” – he shouted loud, taking Crystal’s flashlight to shine it at the darkness. It did little to nothing.

Edwin’s hands were trembling trying to light the fire. Your back hit the wall, knowing you couldn’t go any further. – “Edwin!” – Charles shouted once more that he needed to hurry. Edwin was mumbling words whilst trying to light the match. Charles let go of Crystal, getting closer from the side to shine his flashlight at you.

Seeing how the darkness had almost reached your toes. – “Back! Back!” – he shouted shining it at your feet. It made the darkness’s grippy hands fumble back. You were crying loud, wishing you could go further away. Charles’s light started to flicker as it made him knock on his flashlight.

“No! no not now!” – he called out frustrated. The darkness crept over your feet as you felt the cold nothingness. Shaking your head, you knew they wouldn’t make it. Crawling up to your ankles making you sigh deep. Charles trying his best to get the flashlight back on. The darkness was up till your knees as you curled up a smile between your tears.

Charles staring with tears back at you. Then your vision got blocked out. A person coming to stand before you. Edwin. Edwin jumped in front of you, holding the lantern up. One window open. He shouted loud in anger as the darkness got sucked into the light.

He kept screaming loud, his hand trembling as the darkness kept getting sucked in the lantern. The window shut close as it made Edwin almost lose his balance. He locked the lantern that now looked pitch black. A loud sob emerged out of you, making you fall to your knees. Charles ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you. Edwin setting the lantern aside before joining in.

Both of them were hugging you in tears. You were sobbing loudly at your near death experience. – “I thought I’d lose you Y/n.” – Charles cried out, hugging you tighter. – “You don’t get to leave me.” – Edwin said pressing his cheek against yours. – “I love you guys.” – you cried feeling loved by your best friends. Crystal swallowed nervously, watching the scenery.

Charles started to kiss your cheek over and over again. Edwin tightening his embrace around you. You held on tight to them, feeling their love for you. Realizing they do very much care for you. For you were their entire world. One they didn’t want to live in further if you weren’t in it.

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