#god I need a drink and it’s 6:16 in the morning

[harrywavycurly]

This country hates women. That’s what this really proves, because we’ve always known but now it’s just out in the open. Y’all hate us.

[madisonthetimewalker]

More wakfu headcanons but they aren’t modern AU because I have done to many.. yes it’s Adamai again

1. Since Adamai has been living in the Sadida kingdom for basically almost his whole life. He knows the ins and outs of the place and sometimes sneaks out when he’s not supposed to.

2. It’s canon (I think) that he’s a heavy daydreamer and can be seen dozing off when not interacting with people or included in certain events.

3. He is a big morning person, although sometimes he sleeps in when he feels like he needs to take a break. (Yugo checks on him from time to time and Adamai just gives him a thumbs up and goes back to sleep.)

4. He likes to hangout in trees and I mean he loves hanging out in them. The reason? Beautiful scenery and peace and quiet.

5. He actually has a journal to draw in and take notes about stuff on his mind (basically a diary)

6. He try’s to act all tough but inside he’s actually a really nice guy who never got a chance to express himself. (Explains why his is not very good with conversation.)

7. He is known to eat by himself. (If he’s lucky someone will sit with him.. but it would be very very awkward.)

8. He sometimes gets aches in his body due to all the fighting he endured im going to guess he has some achy muscles.

9. He drools In his sleep, he also snores but its not often.

10. There has been times where adamai’s horns have accidentally gotten stuck in his pillows. (He hates it but god it’s hilarious.)

11. He often has nightmares. Which to be honest I would to if for most of my childhood I fought in wars and literally nearly died.

12. He has excellent hearing, his ears twice whenever he hears a loud noise.

13. He sheds during summer times. He doesn’t like this because it means he has to sit in a tub for like 30 minutes.

14. He likes to read before he goes to bed, distracts him from his thoughts either that or he writes before bed.

15. He doesn’t mean to come off intimidating but when you look like you could kill somebody and have a resting bitch face it isn’t easy making friends.

16. He only goes to party’s for the food.

17. Since Adamai is a lizard (and since I have a pet lizard) I like to believe he sleeps in god awful fucking positions. He complains about back pain but this fucker is doing summersaults in his sleep.

18. He likes to take long walks around the Sadida kingdom and enjoy the scenery, he has nothing else to do so why not enjoy nature?

19. He never really liked the taste of alcohol, he says and I quote “tastes sour.” (I’m kidding but it would be funny if he said it tastes sour) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t drink he does for special occasion tho (but never to much)

20. He’s gotten stuck in a tree once

This is all I got sadly. I promise to make more since people like the Adamai headcanons to much

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 19

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 4.8k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 19: A Different Approach

The next morning was not kind to you. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of the crow's nest, you stirred from your restless sleep, feeling the weight of a pounding headache and the persistent haze of alcohol-induced drowsiness. 

You groaned in protest at the sun, trying to block out the light in your eyes with the improvised pillow you’d made with training mats. The events of the previous night slowly flooded back into your consciousness, a wave of fragmented memories crashing against the shores of your mind. Amidst the fog, the taste of the swordsman's lips lingered on your own, salt and whiskey, a sweet reminder of the intimacy shared under the moonlight. Your cheeks heated intensely. 

Oh gods, you needed to stop drinking so much. 

With a feeble attempt to ease the throbbing in your skull, you pushed yourself in a sitting position, the movement sending a surge of dizziness washing over you. It took a moment for your surroundings to come back into focus, the familiar sight of the makeshift gym greeting you in quiet serenity. 

You considered getting up for a split second but decided against so, instead leaning back on the wall with a heavy sigh. You closed your eyes, the tips of your fingers going to your outer thigh, lazily recreating the exploration of the swordsman’s hands in a daze. Your heart skipped a beat, a shiver passed your shoulders, you let the rear of your head painfully hit the wood behind you. 

Fuck. 

You were down bad.

The trapdoor grated open. You didn’t move. You heard the familiar pace of Zoro’s steps against the floor. From what you could make, he stopped not too far from you.

An amused snort escaped him. 

Your eyes creaked open slightly, looking up at him. Goodness, he was stunning. The morning’s gentle rays caressed his features, casting them in a soft, ethereal glow. The rare curve of his lips into a smile was mesmerizing, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Even the metal of his earrings appeared to dance in the warmth of the light, their delicate glint adding to his undeniable allure. 

“Still alive?” he asked, crouching down so your eyes were at a similar level. 

“I think I might be dying, actually,” you answered, voice rough and catching against the dryness of your throat. 

He chuckled at your overdramatic statement. “You do look like shit,” he commented looking you over none too subtly. 

You scoffed in mock indignation. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who doesn’t even shower once a week," you retorted gesturing to him with a lazy movement of your head. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, your jab not bothering him in the slightest. 

You met his gaze in a quiet exchange, searching for any hint of anger or regret. Yet, all you found was his usual stoic demeanor reflected back at you, his expression betraying nothing. Your eyes traveled against his face, settling on his lips. Memories flooded your mind, his grasp in your hair, his smirk against your lips as you complied with his every demand. And then, as if sensing your thoughts, a knowing grin spread across his features, his eye twinkling with what you could only decipher as satisfaction. 

Embarrassment overcame you at the realization that he could read you like an open book. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to hide the crimson on your cheeks that threatened to betray your inner turmoil. 

“Anyway,” you squeaked. “You got any water?” 

The swordsman’s grin widened at your deflection, but he played along nonetheless. He extracted a flask from under his overcoat. You snagged it with unsteady hands, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. Almost immediately, you halted on the contents, the harsh burn of alcohol catching you off guard. 

"Sake?!" you exclaimed incredulously, eyes meeting his again in shock, wincing as you tried not to choke. "The sun's barely up.” 

Zoro chuckled at your reaction, his smile unwavering as he watched your struggle. "Morning’s as good a time as any for a drink," he remarked casually, his tone betraying no hint of remorse. 

“Fuck swordsman, you’ve got a problem,” You managed to croak in-between soft coughs, handing him back the flask none too gently. 

His fingers lingered against yours as he took it back, a subtle touch that sent heat to your core. His gaze held yours for a moment longer, a silent exchange passing between you before he stood up. 

"Zoro," you said, his name feeling unfamiliar and weighty on your lips.

He glanced down at you, a hint of curiosity glinting in his eye. "What is it?" he asked after your silence prolonged. 

You hesitated, grappling for the right words amidst the tumult within yourself. "About last night..." you began, trailing off as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What about last night?" he inquired, his features dripping with self-satisfaction. 

Frustration simmered within you, the prickling sensation of annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. "You know what I mean, swordsman," you replied with exasperation. 

He tilted his head slightly, a playful glint dancing in his eye. "Do I?" he teased. 

A impatient sigh escaped you, the tension mounting with each passing moment. Rising to meet his stance, you looked at him with defiance. "Cut the crap, you know exactly what I'm talking about," you insisted, your tone firm. 

He laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet space between you. In the face of his entertainment, you hesitated, uncertainty creeping into your expression as his chuckles subsided. 

Your gaze fell to the floor. Without the brazenness that came with intoxication, embarrassment flooded your senses. "You know what?" you said in a small, panicked squeak. "Forget it." 

He sighed. 

“Oi,” he called out to you. 

When you didn’t move your head, he crouched back down, looking up to meet your eyes. As his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his stare made your heart flutter, your knees weaken. Your name crossed his lips in a soft whisper, the sound foreign and demanding of attention. "I don't do things I'll regret," he stated simply before rising to his feet and turning to the trapdoor. 

You stood in disbelief for a moment, processing his words. All of a sudden, you scrambled, picking up the cursed dagger from the floor in a hurry as you snapped back to reality.

“Hey,” you shouted after him. “Wait, where are you going?” You asked as you followed him down the ladder. “You can’t just say that and leave.”

“Training,” He answered simply from below, entirely ignoring the latter part of your comment. 

As your feet hit the wooden deck, you watched him walk away in stunned wordlessness. The cool morning air did little to alleviate the heat coloring your cheeks. Gazing out to the horizon, you squinted against the glare of the rising sun. The golden sliver took you by surprise. It was far earlier than you’d expected. The ship lay silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the bustling activity it would soon host. Most of the crew, you assumed, still slumbered in the embrace of their beds.

A parched sensation clawed at your throat, urging you in search of relief. Water. You needed water urgently. With a resolute stride, you crossed the length of the Sunny, headed for the galley, the determination evident in each purposeful step.

You hadn't anticipated anyone else being awake at this early hour, perhaps aside from Sanji. However, you were taken aback to find both Nami and Robin already up and about. The two women were seated at the table, engrossed in a hushed exchange. Nami meticulously pored over intricate navigation charts, while Robin delved into the pages of a book.

A delightful aroma wafted through the air, emanating from the oven where something delicious was clearly baking. Its sweet scent tantalized your senses, yet the chef was nowhere in sight.

Nami quirked an eyebrow in amusement as she watched you make a beeline for the sink, the sound of running water punctuating the quiet atmosphere. "Good morning to you too," she teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You offered a sheepish smile in response, your lips curling upwards despite the persistent ache in your head. "Morning," you managed to murmur, your voice rough as you filled a glass with cool water.

Meanwhile, Robin's words cut through the tranquility of the moment, catching you off guard as you took a gulp from the glass. "You didn’t sleep in our room yesterday," she observed casually, her gaze still fixed on the book she held in her hands.

The unexpected remark hit you like a sudden gust of wind, causing you to choke on your drink. Water menaced painfully to flood your lungs, and the implications in the tone of the archeologist's statement sent a jolt of embarrassment coursing through you, your mind scrambling to come up with a suitable response.

Struggling to regain your composure, you hastily wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, attempting to conceal the nervousness that threatened to sell you out. "I, uh, ended up crashing in the crow's nest last night," you stammered, your voice quivering slightly as you sought to sound nonchalant.

Nami's eyebrows shot up even higher than before, her expression betraying the flow of her thoughts. "In the crow's nest, huh?" she echoed, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. "Sounds cozy."

Heat flooded your cheeks as you fumbled for a response, acutely aware of the implications in her tone. Your brain couldn’t help but bring up the sensation of his nails digging into soft flesh, of his grip tightening in your hair. A shiver went down your spine. “Just passed out there,” you answered, your voice squeaky.

A hand popped out of the table in front of the navigator. Nami tsked in annoyance, digging out Berry from her back pocket and placing a handful of notes in the waiting palm.

“Thank you,” Robin said with satisfaction, the fingers counting casually the amount while her eyes were still glued to her book. She suddenly smiled, folding the stack of notes and pocketing them. “In any case, we’re glad to see you’re alright. For a moment last night, we were worried you’d taken an unexpected dip overboard.”

You watched the exchange in disbelief, blood draining from your face. “What was that?” You couldn’t help but ask, ignoring the archeologist’s comment entirely. “What did you guys bet on?”

Nami’s smirk widened. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she mused with glee. “Don’t worry, it was just a friendly wager.”

"It's not what you think," you protested, your words tumbling out in a hurried jumble. "We were just... talking."

"We?" Nami questioned with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.

Robin's gaze met yours, closing her book with a soft thud. "Talking... Is that what kids are calling it these days?" she teased, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

As if on cue, Sanji kicked the door open, Zoro not too far behind, their arrival far from subtle. Crates in hand, they burst in with the energy of a brewing storm.

"Hurry up," Sanji barked at the swordsman, impatience evident in his tone. "These are just the start."

Zoro grunted in annoyance, dropping the crates onto the floor without much care. "Why don’t you do your own heavy lifting, you shitty cook," he shot back, his voice tinged with irritation, following him nonetheless.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched, his grip on his cigarette tightening as he took a long drag. "What did you say, moss head?"

Your cheeks flushed under the assessing gazes of Nami and Robin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Zoro abruptly halted in his tracks, the cook forgotten as he looked at you. His eye narrowed as he surveyed the scene before him. "What's going on?" he demanded, his steely gaze darting between you and the two women.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, looking down and getting lost in the suddenly interesting glass in your hands.

Nami’s smirk turned into a grin, her eyes sparkling with something that was almost evil as she leaned back into her chair. “Oh, we were just discussing last night’s sleeping arrangements,” she announced, her tone teasing.

"You see, our dear blacksmith never made it back to our room. Nami and I were quite worried," Robin added, her gaze briefly flickering towards you before settling on the swordsman with a soft smile. "You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Zoro?"

Zoro's expression remained unreadable as he turned his attention to you, his stare piercing and calculating. He leaned against the doorframe, his lip twitched for a fraction of a second, reveling in the chaos in your eyes. "Whatever the witch said," he replied mysteriously, lazily gesturing towards you with a tilt of his head.

You scowled at the nickname, a flicker of irritation crossing your features.

Nami scoffed, her annoyance evidently feigned. "Well, isn’t that convenient?"

You cleared your throat, your hand absentmindedly going to the cursed knife at your waist. “Yes, incredibly convenient.” You shot Zoro a frustrated glare. “In any case, I’ve got work to do.” You stated resolutely, making your way back towards the door.

Robin called your name, stopping you in your tracks. “You left the research out on the table outside last night. I put it in your forge for you, if you ever wondered where it went.”

You flashed her a grateful smile and a small thank you before strolling past the swordsman. He didn’t move out of the way, forcing you to brush against him. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through you. Zoro's gaze flickered with an unreadable intensity, a hint of amusement at your almost unobservable shiver as he tracked your movements.

Suppressing the unexpected flutter in your chest, you flipped him off before continuing on your way.  

He snorted at your defiance, his eye shamelessly tracing the contours of your figure, halting at the hem of your skirt.  His fingers twitched imperceptibly.

Sanji kicked Zoro in the shin, taking back his attention.

"What'd you do that for?" Zoro screeched.

"(Y/n)'s a lady you muscle-headed moron," the cook shouted as he made his way out of the galley with the swordsman in tow.

The heat of your forge was comforting, the familiar act of wrapping your hair in linen cloth allowing you to clear your mind.

You sat down as you waited for the fires to attain the necessary temperature for the task you wanted to attempt. Your fingers traced the uneven edge of the cursed dagger, letting your haki flow to touch it, understand how it was created.

The excruciating pain enveloped your senses like a suffocating shroud. Grappling with the relentless surge of agony coursing through your veins, you gritted your teeth and summoned every ounce of your willpower, determined not to back away. Each pulsating wave of sensation threatened to overwhelm you, but you stood firm, unyielding in your resolve.

As you delved deeper into the essence of the cursed steel, you probed the twisted techniques that had been utilized to imbue it with haki, tracing the dark tendrils of its creation back to their source. The images that flickered behind your closed eyes were a haunting reminder of the suffering endured, the echoes of distress etched into the very fabric of the blade's existence as life force was taken forcefully.

Hazy visions of torment danced before you, each blurry snapshot a testament to the cruelty that had been employed in making the dagger. You felt the agony, heard the anguish, the cries of souls torn from their mortal shells. It was as if the blade itself bore witness to the violent depths of human depravity, a silent beholder to the atrocities committed in the name of science.

Never before had you encountered such haki-infused steel, a material that carried the imprint of darkness in its very essence. It was a rare sight, one that sent an unwelcome surge of dread in your mind, for you recognized its origins all too well. Only in the creations forged by your own hands had you glimpsed such power and pain. You couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of responsibility for its existence.

The task ahead of you was daunting, for you knew all too well the challenges that lay in dismantling a black blade. More often than not, it was an impossible feat, the sentience that came with stolen life force resisting all attempts to break its hold. Hells, you had tried to destroy Yokubari more times than you could count. But as you gazed down at the steel along the tips of your fingers, you harbored a steadfast determination—a refusal to allow such a perversion to persist in this world.

You let your haki recede, the fires crackling and hissing as they cast flickering shadows across the walls. The beads of sweat that were starting to dot your brow gave you the indication that the temperature you needed was almost there.

As you approached the roaring furnace, the heat radiating from the inferno grazed at your skin, searing and intense, but you paid it no mind, your focus consumed by the task at hand. Your eyes lost themselves in the flames. You deposited the dagger on the bed of coal daring the fire to devour it. The flames eagerly licked at the black surface as if hungry for the power that pulsed within. The steel hissed and sputtered, the sound like a chorus of angry spirits protesting their fate, but still, you pressed on, pumping the bellows with practiced ease.

As the dagger sank deeper into the molten heart of the forge, the fires roared to life with renewed intensity, casting dancing sharpening shadows. The air grew thick with the scent of burning metal. You reached in with your haki, prying at the soul within in hope to release it.

It fought with the vigor of a dying animal. You tried kindness, tried forcefulness, nothing worked. The steel stood still, edge looking back at you in defiance. You took it out of the orange coals, tossing it on your anvil in anger.  

You swore in fury, gritting your teeth as you sat back in your chair, eyeing the insolent blade from afar. Frustration coursed through your veins at your inadequacy, at your weakness. The flames continued to rage around you only adding to the exertion you felt.

You spotted green hair in the periphery of your vision. You groaned, in no mood to entertain anyone’s antics.

Zoro's figure loomed in the doorway of your forge for what felt like an eternity. His presence cast a long shadow across the floor as he leaned casually against the frame. His gaze was inscrutable as he watched you, the faintest hint of curiosity gleaming in his eye.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

You shot him a glare, your frustration overflowing. "This damn dagger," you muttered, gesturing towards the cursed blade with a displeased flick of your wrist. "It won't yield. I've tried everything, but it's like it's... alive."

Zoro's expression remained impassive as he stepped further into the forge, his eye narrowing slightly as he studied the dagger. "Alive, huh?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, tossing your head back and closing your lids. You heard the faint rustle of fabric as he moved. “Don’t touch it,” you warned. “I just took it out of the fires.”

His gaze flickered towards you, his fingers stopping mid motion at your warning. He took a few steps back from the uncomfortable heat of the fires, twirling Uragiri in his hand mindlessly as he deliberated over something. With a small smile he threw the sword to you.

"Catch," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Your eyes snapped open at his words, you struggled to react in time, momentarily caught off guard by his unexpected action, but managed to snatch the blade in the air just before it could slip out of your reach, securing it firmly in your grasp.

All thoughts of the dagger vacated your mind. Your brow furrowed in disbelief as you unsheathed the sword and inspected the steel. "Have you already mastered it?" you inquired incredulously, taken aback by the possibility that he could have learned it so swiftly.

"No," he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

Your frown deepened in confusion. "Then why?" you pressed, genuinely puzzled by his intentions.

"You're teaching me," he stated matter-of-factly, his words hanging in the air with a weight that belied their simplicity.

You blinked. “I’m teaching you?” you repeated, momentarily stunned by his response. Teaching him? The notion seemed absurd, considering the formidability of his skills as a swordsman. “You mean like what I did in the research facility?” you asked.

His confirming grunt sent a shiver down your spine.

You ignored the sensation, looking at the sword as you pondered the idea over. "No," you decided firmly, refusing to entertain it any longer than necessary.

"Huh?" Zoro's brows furrowed in confusion, his tone laced with a hint of frustration. "Why not?" he pressed, his gaze searching yours for an explanation.

You squinted, his attitude rubbing on you. "I’m not teaching you how to reverberate haki. It's too dangerous," you sneered down at him from your low vantage point, white scabbard clutched tightly in your hands. "We're on a ship," you added, as though the mere mention of your surroundings underscored the inherent risk of what he was proposing. “With people.”

He scoffed, making his way to you. “It’ll be fine,” he assured you, moving towards your seated form, his boots stopping close to yours.

You looked up at him, resolute stare meeting his, your back digging firmly in the back of your chair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky reassurance, his arrogance only serving to fuel your irritation. "Fine?" you echoed incredulously, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, well, if you say it'll be fine, then I guess we have nothing to worry about."

Zoro's lips quirked into a smug smirk at your biting retort, his gaze challenging you to match his confidence. "Exactly," he replied, his voice low and gruff as he leaned in closer. His fingers grazed the wooden top of the workbench behind you, the warmth of his breath touched your heated cheek.

You fought to suppress the flutter in your chest at his proximity, unwilling to let him see how easily he could unsettle you. "Well, forgive me if I don't share your blind optimism," you shot back, your words laced with thinly veiled annoyance.

He chuckled softly at your barbed response, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Then, are you underestimating me, witch?” he teased, his tone playful as he reached out to lightly brush his fingers against the ashes on your cheek.

For a sliver of a moment, you almost melted into his touch but the surge of anger that rose inside you at his audacity took over. "Don't do that," you snapped, swatting his hand away with more force than strictly necessary.

The swordsman’s smirk widened at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender.

You gritted your teeth in frustration, struggling to maintain your composure. "I'm serious," you warned, your voice edged with firmness. "This is a bad idea, and I won't be held responsible if something goes wrong."

His gaze locked with yours. His fingers brushed yours along the lacquered wood of the scabbard.

Your resolve wavered. “Fine,” you hissed. “Just let me change first.”

You should have fucking stuck to your instincts. You swore under your breath as you pried Uragiri out of the moron’s hands.

“Kind and reassuring, you idiot,” you yelled at the man before you. “Not fucking brute force.”

Zoro's scowl deepened, his brows furrowing in irritation at your outburst. "What's your problem? I almost had it,” he shouted, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"My problem?" you shot back incredulously, frustration welling up to the surface. "You're reckless, impulsive, and completely oblivious to the consequences of your actions. You can’t control your haki properly and you weren’t even close to getting it."

Zoro bristled at your words, his jaw clenched with vexation. "You're a shit teacher," he retorted defensively. "If you'd stop yelling at me for two seconds, maybe I could actually make some progress."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Progress?" you echoed, cynicism coloring your tone. "You call that progress? Nearly slicing the ship in two because you're too stubborn to listen to reason?"

Zoro's expression hardened slightly at the mention of his previous blunder, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features. "I can handle it," he insisted obstinately, though the strain in his voice betrayed a crack in his bravado.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "That's not the point," you replied wearily, your anger giving way to exhaustion. "The point is that you need to learn control. You can't just charge into every situation without thinking things through."

“Are you giving me a lecture on impulsivity?” He snorted. “That’s rich.”

You winced at the truth of his words. “Apparently I fucking have to” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” he relented stiffly. “Show me again.”

You took in a deep breath trying to rein in your own irritation. This was going nowhere. “Let’s try something different,” you sighed. “Since my way is clearly not working, show me how your haki works.”

Zoro’s scowl softened as he considered your suggestion. “My haki?” He mused. “I can do that,” he said smugly.

You set Uragiri to the side, taking a seat on the wood of the deck. You watched as he did the same not too far from you. Watched as he casually reached within, looking for the well of his willpower. 

With practiced ease, haki flowed along his skin, coating the tips of his fingers, his hand, his arm.

Your breath caught as the air buzzed with electricity. It was stunning, breathtaking. The mastery, the dominance. It was entirely different than yours. You didn’t understand how he did it.

Your fingers twitched, tentatively moving to touch his. 

The raw power was intoxicating, sharp and ready to kill.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. You couldn't decipher the thoughts swirling behind that unwavering stare, but the mischievous glint that danced in his eye hinted at a deeper comprehension than he let on. With a subtle smirk, he delved further into his reserves, channeling his haki with a newfound fervor that left you in awe.

"Can't control my haki?" he teased, referring to your earlier critique.

"You're still stuck on that? Stop showing off," you chided, your tongue clicking in disapproval. "Uragiri needs kindness and reassurance, not this shit."

"Then show me kind and reassuring," he challenged, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes with steely determination.

"I've never quite grasped armament haki, so I’m not sure how one would go about it with that technique," you admitted with a hint of vulnerability. "My willpower isn't rooted in a desire to fight, but to create," you explained, reaching instinctively into the depths of yourself. “You can’t achieve what I did in the research lab by simply coating a sword. You need to understand it, find the haki woven in the layers steel.”

Your hand went to Uragiri at your side, bringing it in between you and the swordsman. “It’s important to observe how a blade was made, when you’re going at it the way I am,” you continued calmly, extending your haki along the swirls of the steel. “Observe which areas of the steel bends, which holds firm. How strong the core stands. It’s all part of a sword’s soul.”

His expression softened, mirroring your sincerity as he watched the black spirals emanate from your palm, the movements of your fingers as they grazed the sharpness of the edge with genuine curiosity. Tentatively, he allowed his haki to recede, attempting to replicate your technique with careful precision.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you observed his earnest efforts, the intensity of his focus drawing you in. In that moment, he seemed almost youthful, his features tempered by the sheer concentration etched upon his face.

“You don’t have to go about it in the same way I do,” you said after watching him struggle for a while. “I’m certain you can achieve a similar effect with your own technique. There’s always more than one solution to every challenge.”

You suddenly shot up to your feet, steps urgently taking you back towards your forge. You had an idea. A different way you could approach the dagger. “Keep going at it, you’ll figure it out.” You shouted back at him.

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Masterlist

[anamericangirl]

What’s a good reason to not take my own life? I’ve been feeling this way for years. Been to multiple treatment programs. Seen by several different therapists. Anti-depressants. I frequently go outdoors to exercise. Try to fill up my life with being optimistic about my (admittedly nice) job, hobbies, travel, and volunteering. And yet I’m still no better than I was 5 years ago and I have no hope about a happy future. “Your family will miss you.” Ok, and? I think it’s selfish to tell people in pain to continue living like that because some people might temporarily feel sad. They’ll eventually move on. My friends too, especially the ones who are happily married “to their best friends” and having babies and are so happy that they forget I exist.

Hey anon I hope I am not too late! I am just getting out of a hurricane and was without internet access for several days so i apologize for the delay.

But there are so many reasons not to take your own life. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why you should.

I know it’s tough right now and trust me, I know that depression makes it all feel pointless and worthless and can plague you for years but even though if feels like forever I promise you these feelings and this depression and your circumstances are TEMPORARY. And it would be a tragedy for you to take your life over temporary circumstances and not see what is possible on the other side.

Yes your family and friends will miss you but you should stay because your life has purpose and meaning! Therapy and anti-depressants are good and I’m glad you’ve been trying those things because that means you don’t actually want to die - you just want the pain to stop. And that’s completely understandable and also manageable!

It’s great that you’ve been continuing to exercise and do volunteer work because those things can definitely impact your mood, but they aren’t the source of true joy, peace and happiness. Now I’m a Christian so I’m sure it won’t surprise you for me to say this, but what you are looking for and what you need can only come from God. I urge you to put your faith and trust in him and give him your burdens.

The devil has a hold on you right now, don’t let him win!

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” - Isaiah 41:10

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” - John 10:10

“Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” - psalm 55:22

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all.” - psalm 34:18-19

But now that I’ve gone on my spiel, here are some reasons I think it’s good to keep living. Not all my original thoughts but ones i agree with.

1. You matter

2. No one else is you.

3. Your younger self

4. Your next favorite song.

5. Warm blankets.

6. Thunderstorms

7. The fact that you’re in control of your future.

8. Experiencing new cultures.

9. Making new friends.

10. Road trips.

11. Sunsets and sunrises.

12. Reading good books.

13. Learning a new language.

14. Adopting a pet.

15. Fresh baked bread and cookies.

16. Getting packages in the mail.

17. Autumn.

18. Pumpkin spice.

19. Drinking coffee in the morning.

20. Beaches and being able to sink your toes into the sand.

21. Stepping on crunchy leaves.

22. Recovery.

23. Falling in love.

24. Rain.

25. Petting puppies and kittens.

26. Drinking water.

27. Trying something new and loving it.

28. Your favorite artist putting out new music.

29. A new season on your favorite TV show.

30. Planting a garden and growing your own vegetables.

31. Farmers Markets.

32. Trying out the newest local coffee shop or restaurant.

33. Karaoke

34. All of the people you have yet to meet.

35. Horseback riding

36. Stars.

37. Ice cream.

38. Ice tea.

39. Scented candles.

40. Learning something new.

41. Museums.

42. Going to the movies.

43. Hearing your favorite song come on the radio.

44. Learning to make a new recipe.

45. Your life is precious.

46. You are enough.

47. Random acts of kindness.

48. God looked at the world and thought it needed you.

49. Your story could save someone else.

50. Looking back on this time in 10 years and realizing you made it.

There’s an endless amount of reasons to stay alive and I hope some of them resonate with you.

But if you are desperate please reach out to the suicide prevention hotline at 988. If you are outside the US then you can find the number for your location here.

Please know that I am praying for you and please reach out to me again if you want to. I would love to keep up with how you are doing 💜

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 16

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: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.

“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.

“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.

“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”

“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.

“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.

You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”

“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.

“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.

By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you’re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.

Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.

“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.

“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”

“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”

He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.

“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”

“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.

“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.

“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”

“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.

“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.

“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.

“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”

“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.

“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”

“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”

“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”

“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.

It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”

“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”

Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”

“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you’re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.

“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”

“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”

“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”

"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."

Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”

"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."

“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.

“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”

Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”

"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"

"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."

"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.

"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.

"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.

"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."

"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.

"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."

"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."

Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."

"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."

"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."

"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."

He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."

"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."

"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"

"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."

He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."

"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.

"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.

"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."

"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."

"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.

"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."

"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.

"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."

"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."

"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."

“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”

"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."

It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.

"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."

"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."

"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."

"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."

"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."

"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."

"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."

"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.

"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."

"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"

"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."

"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."

"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.

"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."

He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.

"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."

“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”

"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.

“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.

"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."

“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”

"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."

"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.

Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."

"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.

"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."

"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.

"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."

"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.

"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.

"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.

"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."

"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."

"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."

"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."

“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”

"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"

“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”

The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."

“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”

"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."

“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.

His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."

“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."

“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”

"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.

“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.

"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"

“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”

"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.

“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”

"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."

“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”

"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.

"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.

“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.

“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.

The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.

“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.

“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”

“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.

“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”

“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”

He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”

"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.

“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”

“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”

He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.

"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."

The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.

The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.

“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”

“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”

“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”

“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”

“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.

“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.

"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."

“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”

"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."

“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”

"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.

"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.

"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."

"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.

“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.

Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"

“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”

"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"

"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"

"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."

"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.

"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.

"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.

“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”

"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."

You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”

"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."

“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”

Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."

******

Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.

The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."

"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.

"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."

"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."

Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”

"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."

"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.

"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."

"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."

"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."

“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.

"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.

"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.

It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."

"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."

"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.

"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.

It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”

"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.

“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”

"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”

"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."

“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”

"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”

“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”

“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.

“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.

“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.

“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”

“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.

“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.

“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.

“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.

In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"

Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."

Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."

"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.

"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."

"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."

"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.

"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."

“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.

"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.

"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.

"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."

"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."

"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."

“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”

"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.

“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”

"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."

“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”

"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.

“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”

"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.

Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”

“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”

******

"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.

"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."

“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.

"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."

“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.

"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.

“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”

"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”

"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.

“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.

"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."

“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”

"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."

Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.

“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”

“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.

“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.

“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”

“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.

“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.

"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."

“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”

“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”

“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”

"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."

“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.

“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”

“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”

“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”

“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.

"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."

“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”

"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."

Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”

"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."

“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.

"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."

“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”

"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.

“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”

You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."

“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”

"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."

“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.

"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.

“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.

"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"

“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.

“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”

“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”

“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.

“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”

“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”

“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.

“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”

“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”

“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”

“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.

“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.

“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”

“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.

"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.

“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.

"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"

“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”

"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."

He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”

“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.

“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”

“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”

“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”

“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”

“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.

“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.

“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”

“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”

“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”

“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”

He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.

Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.

“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”

“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”

“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.

“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”

He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”

“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”

"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.

Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”

"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."

“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.

******

Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”

“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.

“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”

“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”

“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.

“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.

“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”

“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”

“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.

“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.

Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”

His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”

“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”

“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.

“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”

“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”

“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”

"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.

“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”

"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."

“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.

"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"

“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.

"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."

“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.

"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."

“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”

"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.

"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"

“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”

"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."

“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”

"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"

Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”

"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."

“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.

"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.

“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”

"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."

“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo

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

My Masterlist!

[besaya-glantaya]

While the previous exorcism was fairly sucessful, new brain gremlins appear with repeated rewatches. So, here's another incomplete list of my rambling thoughts and favourite moments from the Red White and Royal Blue movie:

1. Breaking doors down to get a wedding cake through - actually a thing that happened. Well, almost. Prince William and Kate Middleton's gigantic 8-tier wedding cake was so large a palace door had to be removed to allow it through. Apparently the Queen was "unimpressed".

2. Henry snubbing Alex in the reception line at the wedding is hilarious. Way to ensure Alex doesn't fixate on you for the whole party, Henry. A+ job.

3. Alex drunkly navigating the wedding reception, swiping drinks, petting rich people and hiding foul smelling canapés behind furniture. Adorably comedic.

4. HeNnrrYyy!

5. Aww. I wanna see pictures of Jonathan the Shih Tzu too.

6. Shaan's scathingly dry wit is everything - I can see why he's such a great match for Zahra.

7. "No-one is more mystified than I" is another phrase I am stealing for people who exist purely to vex me.

8. Shaan shoving Alex bodily through the low hanging branches of a chestnut tree to stand beside Henry for a photo op. That had to be at least partially improvised on location.

9. Dogs in jumpers. This must be some British thing that I have simply failed to notice. Is this a thing Americans associate with the UK?

10. The ridiculously small child's costume that Alex is wearing for the puppet show in the hospital.

11. Alex saying "WRONG!"

12. Henry, on the phone, opening with "Good God, man, what have you done?" Honestly, is there any other response when your crush sends you a picture of a caged turkey, in their bedroom, in the small hours of the morning?

13. Nora strutting into the NYE party in that head turning, jaw dropping, red outfit. Stunning.

14. Henry's face after Alex tells him he's going to do "very bad things to him". Every single fantasy he's ever had about him and Alex is flashing rapid-fire through his brain and he just... overloads a lil' bit. Error code 54 [NETWORK_BUSY].

15. The emotional connection between Alex and Henry when they are making love in Paris. The eye contact, the unspoken communication. Ugh. Hats off to all involved - especially Robbie Taylor, the movie's intimacy coordinator - for creating this scene.

16. Alex, talking about being someone his father never had: "You can't know what that means." Henry responding with a heartfelt "I'm learning". Just... yes. All the yes.

17. In the mood for love might be one of the swooniest movies of all time, but it's heartbreakingly sad. It's a doomed romance - two people who are irrevocably in love but can't be together, trapped as they are by the pressures of societal expectations and their own psychological barriers. That this is a version of romance that Henry holds dear is telling and painful to think about.

18. Alex's bloodshot eyes when he's laying on his bed with Nora, hugging that cushion for dear life, pining hard for Henry. Did they do that scene after another intense emotional one? Were there lots of other teary takes of that same scene? Did they rub onions in Taylor's eyes? I need to know.

19. I often think that the core of who we are as teenagers - our hopes, our desires, the things we cherish - are the beings we settle back into as older adults after we're done trying to fit in or live up to other people's expectations. One of Alex's greatest gifts is helping Henry to reach out and reclaim those seemingly distant hopes and dreams. To dance with the person he loves, in a place of beauty that brings him peace.

20. I love the Perfume Genius cover of "Can't help falling in love". It hits you squarely in the feels.

21. God, the casting of this movie was a stroke of genius. Taylor and Nicholas truly become Alex and Henry on screen.

22. On the private air-field: Henry's little overwhelmed smile when Alex squeezes him in the tightest hug and tells him, "I love you, I'll be as patient as you need."

23. Immediately after 22, Alex leaning in for a kiss goodbye but pulling back quickly as he reads Henry's discomfort. Alex might not always understand Henry's reasons but (if he's paying attention), he's so very good at reading Henry's needs and responding to them.

24. In the aftermath of the email leak, Alex has been "hanging in there" - he's had people supporting him, with agency over how to respond. But Henry is understandably not OK - he's been put back in his box, and the Firm has taken over in all matters. There's one scene where you can see Henry shrinking, literally making himself take up less space at the table.  Poor baby.

25. Zahra to the rescue. Truly the MVP.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 24 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my sweet.

Word Count: 4,380

Act III, Chapter 3 - The Torment

The next morning started off like any other. However, you were surprised when Wyll, Karlach, and Jaheira came back in the late afternoon with a tall, muscular, and bald man with a small rodent on his shoulder. Karlach and Wyll were following the other two with expressions of awe.

I wonder if he’s an associate of Jaheira’s… that would explain why Karlach and Wyll are fawning so hard.

The man saw you and grinned broadly, waving cheerfully at you. Your seal pulsed strongly in return.

Who exactly is this man?

Coming up to the group, you smiled warmly. “Welcome back, everyone. Who’s our new friend?”

“I am Minsc!” Then he held out his hand for the little rodent to hop onto his palm and held him out to you. “And this is Boo, the mighty miniature giant space hamster.”

When the hamster looked at you, your seal pulsed again, sending heat waves through your blood. You looked back up at Minsc, and the power ebbed away.

What. No way. It was the hamster that is the powerful one here?

Boo chittered, and while everyone else was looking at the creature, you noticed that Minsc was listening intently as if he understood every little squeak.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he gingerly brought Boo back to his shoulder. “Boo is looking forward to sampling your fine dishes and to hear your singing. Karlach and Wyll have been praising your talents!”

You blinked. “Um, alright, I’ll do my best,” you said, directing your reply to the little hamster. Looking into its eyes, you suspected you saw understanding, and even more, satisfaction.

Welp, that was strange.

You learned from the others that the underground guild in the city and Jaheira had made a deal: she got help finding Minsc, and in exchange, they had chased the Zhentarim out of the city. You breathed a sigh of relief.

So I didn’t need to worry about them after all. Thank the gods. Or rather, thank Jaheira.

Karlach patted your back. “I’m relieved. One crime group is enough for this city, hah!”

You laughed, hiding your nerves. “Yup, good riddance.” And now they’ll never know.

Leading the others to the campfire, you served them some drinks and some snacks and listened to them regaling you with their adventure, which had taken them all across the city, even to the deepest bank vaults. They had even found Mol and a couple other tiefling children in the Guild, running their business, and doing quite well for themselves.

“Oh good, I’d like to go back to the other tiefling children and let them know Mol is safe,” you said.

“I can do it,” Karlach said with a smile. “I’m sure Wyll would want to see them again too.”

Wyll nodded, and you caught his soft look as he watched Karlach.

Oh ho, his love grows.

After their story, you rooted around through the pile of loot for any extra bedrolls or fabric to make a tent for the newcomer. Just as you had managed to find enough rags to weave together, you heard the alarm bells on your belt chime softly.

Turning toward the entrance, the others had arrived looking a bit worn out. As they joined the group at the campfire, Shadowheart relayed what had happened.

“We literally went to hell and back. But now Lae’zel has a way to free Orpheus.”

The githyanki nodded with a slight smirk. Oh, she’s quite pleased.

“And we may have a change of accommodations,” Gale said. “The Elfsong has an upper floor penthouse available if we wish to use it, for a discounted fee.”

“Are there enough beds for everyone?” you asked, sweeping your hand towards everyone, including Shadowheart’s parents, Isobel, and Aylin, who were hanging back, listening in.

“Plenty of beds,” Gale replied.

“And why the discount?” you questioned. Inns don’t give discounts unless…

“There might have been a murder on that floor, and that might be scaring off the guests.”

Everyone looked at Gale.

“Look, just because one person died there doesn’t mean we should stay out in the open for the remainder of our time here.”

After some thought, the group began to mumble agreement.

Wait. Then that means…

“So you won’t be needing me any further,” you quietly said.

All eyes turned to you.

“Well, of course we need you, darling.” Astarion walked up to you and patted your head. “You still have to feed me.” He gestured towards everyone else. “And these fools couldn’t clean worth a damn.”

You glanced at everyone else, who were mostly shrugging sheepishly.

“And who’s going to take care of the giant pile of souvenirs that Karlach and Astarion keep pilfering?” Wyll joked.

“Some of those are from you too!” Karlach shot back, lightly shoving Wyll, who only laughed.

“The point is, you’re part of the team,” Gale said softly. “We need you just as much as anyone else.”

You turned back to Astarion, who nodded and took your hand, holding it gently, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Besides, you promised you would stay with me, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he murmured before pulling back. Turning to everyone else, he shot them all a triumphant grin. “So, shall we upgrade our accommodations?”

***

By the time you all had finished packing and moving everyone’s things out of the harbor and to the Elfsong, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Yet the tavern was already loud and lively, full of music and drinkers. Gale went to the front desk and paid for the new lodgings, holding up a key triumphantly to everyone before leading the group upstairs.

“Probably best if I keep a low profile. They used to know me all too well in here,” Astarion muttered to you as he helped take the packs up the stairs, attempting to blend in with the others. You watched his back as he went up the stairs, walking closely to the floating disc as it hovered behind Gale. Your eyes wandered down the line of Astarion’s body, down his back, his hips, his—

Gods, what am I doing?

You shook your head and re-focused on the back of his head, but he had already caught you staring, as he looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“Admire all you like, darling.”

You immediately looked away and huffed.

His sly grin stayed on his face throughout the rest of the unpacking.

***

Since you didn’t need to cast warming cantrips any longer, you could spend your time sorting the loot pile and going out to the market to sell whatever you could, and buying fresh groceries. You were actually excited to see what kind of fresh vegetables and herbs you could get, now that you were in a large city.

“You’re sounding happy,” Shadowheart said as she approached, kneeling down next to you while you polished some of the tarnished jewelry with a rag.

You stopped humming and smiled up at her. “Well, I can finally catch up on some inventory management,” you said, pointing at the rather large pile of knick knacks and herbs. “You lot seem to have sticky fingers.”

“It’s how I grew up,” Karlach said as she joined the two of you, sitting cross legged on the other side of you. “Take everything of value and sort it out later for pocket change.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. I just haven’t had much of a chance to go through it all lately, and it seems like everyday you come back with more.”

Gale suddenly came up and tapped Shadowheart’s shoulder. With one look, her eyebrows furrowed and she got up. 

“We’re going to plan our next trip into the Undercity. We’ll probably need to split up if we want to stop the murders and find where Orin is hiding.”

You nodded and watched as everyone gathered around the table in the main sitting room on the upper level. Remaining in the lower area near the fireplace, you continued to sort through everything, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“...have to find where the Bhaalspawn…”

“...Orin’s base might be…”

You finished sorting what you could, and pulled together all the random coins you had found. There was a significant amount, so you didn’t feel bad about ordering room service tonight.

“I’m going downstairs to order us a meal to be brought up, are there any requests?”

***

As you came downstairs with a long piece of paper full of meal requests, you ran into a familiar face.

“Lakrissa!” you said with a bright smile.

She called your name excitedly and gave you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a room upstairs, at a discounted rate.”

“Oh, the murder room. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t bother your group much, would it?”

You laughed. “Nope, not after what they’ve seen. Oh, I need to put their supper order in.”

Lakrissa smiled and took your order for you, telling you to wait by the stairs for her while she gave it to the kitchen. When she returned, she gave you a wide grin.

“Follow me,” she said quietly as she nodded toward the back staircase. 

She snuck you up to the rooftop, where you heard a soft lute and a familiar voice.

You smiled, afraid to stop Alfira’s singing. She was swaying softly to her song, her back to you and Lakrissa, the gibbous moon shining brightly above her head. The two of you enjoyed her song until the end, applauding her just as she turned around.

The bard smiled, pleasantly surprised to see you. You hugged, and the three of you caught up on each other’s lives since the Last Light Inn.

“Would you join me for a song?” Alfira asked. “If you have time, that is.”

You turned to Lakrissa. She nodded. “You’ll have time. With the amount of orders you put in, you could sing out here for a half hour and it wouldn’t be done.”

The two of you figured out a song you both knew, and while she played and sang harmony, you took the lead, letting your voice carry on the rooftop, and letting the tingling feeling on your spine travel through your body, through your lungs, through your throat. You felt almost as if you could layer your voice if you pushed your power through yourself hard enough.

On the last lyric, you let your vibrato go longer and harder than you ever had, leaving just enough breath to end the song on a delicate sigh.

A raucous applause startled you, and you turned to see all of your companions standing behind Lakrissa, who was wearing a sly grin.

“You cheeky woman!” Alfira said to her as Lakrissa came up and placed her hand on the small of her back.

You were distracted from their cute banter by everyone else’s compliments. You shyly bowed.

“Boo says that was a most wonderful performance, rivaling the great opera singers from Waterdeep!”

You flinched involuntarily at the mention of Waterdeep, but you acted as if you didn’t. “You’re too kind,” you said with a smile. 

Lakrissa tapped your shoulder. “I can go check if your food is ready, but would you all want to eat up here? It’s a beautiful moonlit night!”

You turned to everyone else, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, catching up with Alfira and admiring the view.

“That sounds lovely.”

As she went downstairs, you spotted some tables and chairs scattered around the rooftop and had an idea. You took a deep breath and began to hum, walking to the furniture and tapping them lightly. As if they suddenly gained sentience, they hopped and began to follow you, arranging themselves into a nice group formation.

Everyone had gone silent, watching you work. You paid them no mind, singing a song about faerie lights, touching the leaves and vines around the area, making them glow orange and pink and purple. Lost in the sensation of the magic and the music flowing through your body, you spun around and swayed your arms, letting the lights glow brighter as your power pulsed against your skin.

Suddenly Astarion was standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, pressing on your seal. He kissed your cheek and pulled you close, interrupting your song.

“I couldn’t help myself darling,” he said a bit too loudly as he dragged you away from everyone else. Karlach tried to peek, but Shadowheart shooed her and the other onlookers back to the tables to wait for their food.

Away from the crowd, Astarion whispered into your ear. “Your seal was glowing brightly through your clothes.” His hand pressed harder against your back. “Be careful.”

You looked up at him, surprised at his look of concern. “Oh. Thank you,” you murmured. It didn’t feel like burning this time, though. It felt… powerful. 

He guided you back to the tables just in time for Lakrissa and another worker to bring the trays of food for everyone. Using your party as an excuse, she stayed behind and ate with you, along with Alfira, who entertained you all with music through the rest of dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and you treasured it.

***

The next morning, the others left, but came back within an hour to talk to Dame Aylin. You overheard something about a tower and a wizard who had put a price on her head, and she immediately charged out the doors. Isobel followed the group out to follow her.

You turned to Shadowheart’s parents. “Erm, well, I was about to go out and get groceries. I should be back soon.”

They nodded and told you that they would let the others know if they came back before you did.

Out in the city, you felt relatively safe, anonymous in the large crowds. You walked over to a jeweler and bartered away some of the found gems and trinkets for a great price, adding to your coin pouch. Heading down to the marketplace, you managed to get an excellent cut of venison from the butcher and some fresh herbs and vegetables. Holding the bag in your arms, you headed back to the Elfsong.

Halfway there, your seal pulsed. You immediately looked around.

A man, with a patch over his eye and a large sword at his side, scratched his arm, his sleeve lifting up to reveal a tattoo of a legless dragon in flight. It was a tattoo you recognized with ease.

A Zhent!

You quickly began to walk away, turning a corner beyond the Elfsong, unwilling to make the mistake of leading someone straight to your home base. Instead, you walked through the graveyard, then past the tombmaker’s shop. Just as you were rounding the corner to make a loop back home, you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

Turning around, you were met with Gale, smiling and waving his hand to you.

“Can you follow me for a moment? I have something to show you,” he said, gesturing for you to follow.

Your seal pulsed with a stinging heat.

“Um, let me put these groceries away first.”

“We haven’t the time,” he insisted, coming closer to you.

Gale would have offered to carry my groceries for me by now. This isn’t him! 

Without another word, you turned to run.

The doppelganger grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, choking you. Dropping your bag of groceries, you pulled at your collar, trying to get some air, but they were strong. One arm wrapped around your mouth.

“You’ve got wits, but no power. Pity,” a woman’s voice hissed in your ear.

You felt a sharp pain to your temple, and then you felt nothing at all as everything went black.

***

Astarion and the others returned to their room in the Elfsong, ready for a long rest. Upon entering the room, however, he smelled something distinctly… vile.

“Welcome back,” said the creature posing as his hearth witch. Though she looked like her, she definitely didn’t sound like her. The soothing warm tone of her voice could not be replicated by any other.

“You’re not her.” Astarion glared at the shapeshifter, disgusted that she would take the form of his beloved.

Orin pouted. “How could you tell so quickly?”

“I could smell your stench a mile away.”

Everyone looked on in horror as a crazed, maniacal grin grew on their hearth witch’s face. And when she twisted back to her usual form, everyone felt a fear and anger that they could not swallow down.

“If you want your precious friend, then kill Gortash for me and bring me his netherstone.” She disappeared in a burst of pink petals, her insane laughter bleeding away.

Astarion could barely contain his rage. “We don’t have time, we have to find her now,” he snarled.

The others agreed. 

“Don’t worry Astarion, we’ll find her,” Wyll said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Orin won’t get away with this.”

He nodded as he tried to keep a level head. But it was so, so hard.

If Orin touches her… she’ll feel her madness. She’ll feel everything.

***

You woke up to a world of pain, your entire body feeling as if it was on fire. You shifted and gasped in agony.

Then your memories of the last 24 hours returned, and you nearly vomited. You had so, so many cuts across your body. Your clothes had been sliced to shreds, and your skin along with it.

The crazed cackle of your captor drew your attention. Orin licked her knife with glee. “Your blood is the sweetest,” she murmured. 

And then she wrapped her hand around your neck. You let out a hoarse cry of agony as her madness seeped into you. No amount of mental guarding could keep out the intensity of her insanity.

c̵̝̽u̵̩͌t̵͇͛ ̷̗̕c̵͉͌ṵ̵͝t̴̝̓ ̵̫͋m̸͙̚a̶̧̾i̴͈͋m̴̱̀ ̷̳̔m̸͇͛a̸̢͝i̸̗͗m̴͎͝ ̴̡̒m̷͍̈́ṵ̶͗r̵̝̾d̷̜̄e̸̤͋r̵̹͝ ̷̮̓m̸̳̊ủ̵͚r̸̖͑d̷͈̿e̴̞̐r̸̻͋k̶̜̋i̷̪͊l̶̝̔l̸͚̀k̴̫̃i̶͈̓l̴͇̀ĺ̶͙K̴͉̍Ȋ̶͜L̸͈͛L̵̫͌ ̴̢̀K̸̯̈I̸͍̿L̸̘̍Ľ̶̪ ̶̘̈K̴͇͘I̴̬͐L̶͚̀L̶̤̓—̸̟̀ ̵͉̏

You squeezed your eyes shut to drown out the voices in your head.

“Who knew you would be so sensitive to just my mere touch! Such a delight to torture.”

You could barely hear her words beyond the pounding of blood in your ears. Is this what she constantly felt? Wave after wave of darkness, followed by an alternating current of rage, a frenzied, frenetic need to hurt, to kill. 

It was so dissonant from your usual emotions that you were having a physical reaction. Your blood pumped harder, spilling more from your wounds. You were weakening, your limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

“Let go of me!” you cried, your hands wet with your blood as you tugged weakly at Orin's arm. 

She only laughed. “Why should I? Your agony is the sweetest candy on my tongue.” Grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully, she brought the inside of your arm to her mouth. While she stared at you with her crazed glare, she licked your blood, savoring it, smearing it all over her lips. 

“No!” You shrieked, trying to jerk your arm away. It was a useless endeavor; she was far stronger than you could ever be. “That blood is not for you!” 

You tugged harder, the blood making your skin slippery. Her grip tightened until you felt your bones begin to yield, the pain making you keen. 

“You make the most lovely sounds when in pain,” she murmured, letting go of your wrist and your throat. Placing the tip of her knife at your collarbone, she grinned maniacally. The sharp tip pierced your skin, the slow, burning sting making you whimper in pain. 

“Let me hear you sing in agony once more—“

“My lady!” 

Orin immediately grabbed the servant by the throat. “How. Dare. You. Interrupt me!” 

“There…. are… intruders…” the servant gurgled.

You looked up, grateful for any distraction that kept Orin’s knife away from your collarbone. In the distance, you could see your companions as they charged down the stairs. A sense of relief flooded you. 

Your friends. They were here. Thank the gods. 

All of the stress and the injuries suddenly overwhelmed you, and your vision blurred. Did Orin just transform into a beastly creature? The party threw themselves into the fray, fighting off the other cultists while Karlach and Lae'zel focused on Orin. 

The last thing you saw was Astarion rushing past the beast towards you, calling out your name. 

***

It had been a hell of a battle, and Astarion barely remembered it. Once he had secured his beloved in a safe corner, he had lashed out, stabbing Orin until she screamed in agony. Then he sprinted back, picked up his little hearth witch in his arms and brought her to Shadowheart, who immediately healed her wounds. Her clothes were shredded to tatters, and even after her wounds had closed, she was still out cold.

“She may be mentally overwhelmed,” Shadowheart said.

He only nodded before setting off at a hurried pace to get back to the Elfsong, cradling her closely.

After they got out of the Undercity, she finally spoke to him again. “I'm surprised by how far you've come, Astarion. I didn't think you'd ever care so deeply about anyone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied carefully. “But she managed to weasel her way in.”

“It's funny how the little things do so much. A warm meal, a soft touch, a gentle smile. She's brought us all out of our shells, made us feel safe.”

“Yes…” He looked down at his love. “She feels like home.”

Shadowheart didn’t miss the softness in his eyes as he spoke, gazing at his witch.

***

“Seems strange, doesn't it?” Shadowheart mused while she sat with the other around the communal table, snacking on some cheese. 

“Well, they're lovers now, right? I wouldn't let anyone touch you either.”

Shadowheart frowned, even though she felt a bit tickled by Gale's protective comment. “That's fair. But he barely let me finish healing her before snatching her away.”

Gale shrugged. “Some people go a little crazy when they fall in love. I certainly don't blame him for acting this way. She's been kidnapped twice now, right under our noses.”

Nodding, Shadowheart grew quiet for a moment. “What do you think he meant when he said her skin was sensitive?”

Karlach suddenly lifted her head. “I asked her about why she wore gloves all the time and she said it was a secret. Maybe she just has super sensitive skin!” 

The others just accepted that conclusion and moved on to other topics, but Shadowheart kept chewing on the thought.

What if…?

***

You regained consciousness as Astarion was lifting you in his arms. You felt his worry for you through your bare skin before you realized that he had taken his shirt off, and you were fully naked.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“We rescued you,” he answered, his voice soft. “And now I’m giving you a bath. You’re covered in blood.”

“Oh.”

Astarion slowly lowered you into the tub, the water immediately turning red as the dried blood on your skin was washed away. The warmth was soothing against your freshly healed body and you started to relax. But the moment Astarion let go of you, the pain from before came rolling back. When Orin had held you down, her madness had borne down on you, unrelenting, and it returned now in ripples of mania.

You struggled to stay alert, but you could feel your mind slowly dissociating. Your consciousness faded as you battled the memories. 

b̸̫̅͆ͅl̴̛̼̳̎ǒ̶̭́͜o̵̢̔ḋ̵̘̈́ ̷̢̬͌͘b̸̮͖̔l̸̙̬͘o̷͕̩̿̊o̸̬̐d̶̛͉ ̷̙̰̔c̷̢̩̈́ų̵̰͝t̶̖̲͆̿ ̷̭̬͝c̴̬̙̃u̴̱͋́t̶͆̆ͅ

“Darling?” 

s̷̖̍l̵͕͋i̵̗͒̾c̴̻̫̔̀ē̶̝ ̴͉͝͝s̵̝̋̅l̸̠̏́i̴̳̚c̷͚̎̒e̸̜̜̒ ̵̹͂̎ͅh̵̤̋̐ư̶̥͌r̵̖͚̆t̶̡̬̋ ̸̤͓̌h̵̗͑̓ų̵̙̾͊r̸͖̍̀t̶̼̎͘ ̸̙̐̍m̷͈͝a̷̘͎͗̊i̵̩̦̊̌m̷̳̗̿̈ ̵̞̂m̶͚͍͒͠a̵̠͚̚i̴̭͋̏m̶̹͖͊̓

Suddenly your mind went blank as Astarion pulled you out of the tub and into his embrace. You wanted to chide him about getting his pants dirty with the bloody water, that you were naked, that this was wholly inappropriate… 

But when you felt the overwhelming feeling of love and protection around you, it silenced everything else. The echoes of Orin's insanity, the screams of your own mental state, everything. 

All you felt was Astarion's love for you, and it brought you back to the present. 

And you cried. 

“I've got you, my sweet. I've got you,” he murmured as you shook uncontrollably.

“I hate this!” you cried. “I…I'm weak. I'm helpless. I didn't… I didn't want to be a burden!”

Astarion hushed you gently, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “What's that irritating thing that Gale always says about burdens?”

It took you a moment to remember. “A burden shared is a burden halved?” 

“Yes. That.” He guided your chin up to look at him. “We both have our share of burdens. I accept yours, just as you accepted mine.”

“So you can say nice things,” you teased through your tears. “You won't abandon me?” you asked quietly. 

“You're the heart I thought I had lost,” he quietly confessed. “So don't even think for a moment that I'd ever let you go.” He held you tighter. “You're mine, burdens and all.”

He coaxed you back into the tub, and kept at least one hand on your skin as he helped you get clean. While you knew you were healed, you sometimes saw the cuts that Orin had inflicted as an afterimage on your skin. You had to shake your head and force the vision away from your mind.

While you were fighting the demons in your head, Astarion bathed you, dried you off, and took you to bed, wrapping you up in his arms, against his bare chest. 

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, his gaze full of concern.

You took a deep breath. Would you? Orin did a hell of a number on you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you had seen some strange things in Waterdeep. Hells, you had faced a vampire lord and survived.

And yet…

“I’ll be alright,” you finally said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really will,” you insisted. “It may take some time, but you’ll be here to help, won’t you?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, darling.”

It wasn’t until you were mostly asleep that you realized that you were still naked, skin against skin with Astarion.

And yet, it was the most comfortable you had ever been with him, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

---------------------------

Act III, Chapter 3 End notes: Sorry for the lateness, had to work double digit hours every day this week at work, but finally got some time to edit and post this chapter! I’m really leaning into that hurt/comfort trope here and I regret nothing. But I think this will be about as much as I can write in terms of injuries, because honestly, our dear little witch needs to catch a break.

Also a bit of behind the scenes here: I absolutely killed that Zhentarim plotline, because it wasn’t working for me and it does get conveniently taken care of by Jaheira in the game. And I was thinking that HW was being a bit paranoid; she hasn’t seen a Zhent in years since the last time she was in the Gate. Also, the masked lord has basically forgotten about her, but she doesn’t know that.

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[this-sapphic-paradise]

Consider these parts as drafts of a fic I'll put together once I have the story all figured out.

TW: underage relationship

Part 3

Part 4 - 6 weeks after 1st encouter

[Rhaenyra - 3:06]: You awake??

[Alicent - 3:06]: Now I am.

[Rhaenyra - 3:07]: Come over.

[Alicent - 3:08]: It's 3 in the morning. Go to sleep.

[Rhaenyra - 3:08]: Can't!

[Alicent - 3:09]: Why not? Did something happen?

[Rhaenyra - 3:09]: Yes...

[Alicent - 3:10]: What happened?? Are you okay??

[Alicent - 3:15]: Rhaenyra!!

[Rhaenyra - 3:16]: Sorry, I was trying to get comfortable.

[Rhaenyra - 3:16]: My uncle took me out tonight...

Alicent clicked on Rhaenyra's name, calling her. The second she heard it being answered, she asked, "Did he hurt you?"

"What? No! I'm safe."

Even though Rhaenyra hadn't spoken much, Alicent was able to hear how her words dragged a bit.

"Are you drunk?"

Rhaenyra giggled. "Maybe..."

"Did he buy you drinks?!?"

"Yes, but can you lay off him, please?!? Daemon is my uncle, he wouldn't do anything bad to me. Besides, it's not like I've never gotten drunk before. I've told you stories of what goes on in my school..."

Alicent could hear the smirk that was surely on Rhaenyra's lips and it was almost enough to make her forget that she was in fact mad at the girl.

"So you can't sleep 'cause you're drunk. Then stay up, drink some water and eat something sugary. I'm going back to--"

"That's not why I can't sleep." Rhaenyra said, cutting Alicent off.

"Then what is it??"

"Promise to not hang up?"

"Rhaenyra..."

"Please, promise."

Alicent sighed. There was no chance that whatever Rhaenyra was about to say would be something light-hearted and unproblematic, but what choice did she have? She felt for the girl; Rhaenyra was lonely, and for whatever reason she chose to trust Alicent.

"Okay. I promise..."

A tone and a message notification appeared on Alicent’s phone alerting her that Rhaenyra was trying to switch their call to video. Without thinking twice about it, Alicent clicked on "accept".

It was a blessing from the heavens that she had not turned on any lights in her room which prevented her reaction to seeing a disheveled-looking Rhaenyra staring with lust-filled eyes at the camera.

"Rhaenyra. W-Where did Daemon take you??"

Even though her room was dimly lit, the blush on Rhaenyra's cheeks was evident as was the fact that she was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs.

"He took me to a club. A very interesting club..."

"I think we should hang up."

"You promised you wouldn't." Rhaenyra pouted at the camera for a second before smirking and biting her bottom lip. "The things I saw there... Fuck, Alicent... I'm aching..."

Alicent swallowed hard at the little moan that escaped Rhaenyra's lips. She should be grossed out, she should be put off at the teenager's display of need, but a sick part of Alicent enjoyed being her object of affection. She was playing a dangerous game, one that could land her in jail if not worse, but Alicent simply could not end the call.

"Sweetheart..." Alicent swallowed hard again and tried her best to keep her voice steady. "That's normal. You're horny. It happens. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you can look up stuff on your phone that'll help ease the ache..."

"God, I love it when you use pet names for me." Rhaenyra moaned softly, before pouting again. "I don't wanna look up anything else, I want you. Just you."

"Rhaenyra, please..."

"And here I was thinking I'd be the one begging," Rhaenyra said with a smirk.

"Rhaenyra!"

Alicent’s tone gave Rhaenyra pause.

"Listen to me, and listen carefully. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

Rhaenyra bit her lip again and nodded.

"You know this is wrong, don't you?" Rhaenyra nodded. "You know I'd get in big trouble if anyone caught wind of this--"

"But I want you!"

"Be good and listen."

"Sorry."

"You're a gorgeous girl, and I love spending time with you, but you can't involve me in these... moments..." Alicent could see desperation and the sting of rejection starting to settle on Rhaenyra's eyes, and all she wanted was to soothe her, but she knew she couldn't, not how either of them wanted.

Licking her lips, Alicent said lowly, "I can't control what you choose to imagine when you're pleasuring yourself, and... and I can't control whether you share those details with me or not, but I can't partake in any of it. Do you understand what I'm saying, princess?"

Rhaenyra batted away the tears that had been threatening to fall from her eyes and she smiled shyly at the camera.

"Yeah... I got you."

"Good." Alicent’s low chuckle sent a shiver down Rhaenyra's spine. "Now... go take care of yourself and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Good night, princess."

"Good night, Alicent."

[hikarry]

Since I didn't communicate clearly earlier:

2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39

Oh, God lord, Sam

Okay, yes, yes, sure

Just, be prepared for a long post I guess then. Ill skip the ones I already answered

2. show us a picture of your handwriting?

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

The Imitation Game, The Muppet Christmas Carol and Corpse Bride

4. what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

Ah...a evil version of "You've got a friend in me" from Toy Story with one of my friends

5. what made you start your blog?

Honestly? No idea. Technically I've been here since 2014 and I kinda just joined to see pretty pics in the beginning. And now here we are, neck deep in the Good Omens fandom

6. what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

The best is honestly the interaction. You guys really have no idea how nice the Good Omens fandom is. I used to be a "creator" for the Yuri on Ice fandom and it didn't used to be half of this. It's very exciting.

The worst? Maybe the pressure to post new stuff? Which is not exactly no one's fault but mine, but alas

7. what scares you the most and why?

Ah. Dying in pain? I don't like pain and I don't appreciate dying so, yeah. Kinda logic

8. any reacquiring dreams?

I don't think so?

9. tell a story about your childhood

We went to the beach this one time and I, for some reasons, made friends with this one guy I never saw again in my life. Somehow he caught a big ass fish (or big in toddler scale) and gave it to me and my first reaction was toss it back into the ocean. It was a magnificent throw, lemme tell ya. For a 3 year old, anyway

10. would you say you’re an emotional person?

It depends on how mentally stable I am and who I am with. But yes, overall, I would say so

11. what do you consider to be romance?

Small things, like sleeping cuddling, cooking together, drinking coffee together at the window in a sunday morning, kissing in the rain. My idea of romance is very...fairytale-y. And not realistic. That's why I am very very good by myself

12. what’s some good advice you want to share?

Don't look for yourself in other people. You're good enough to make yourself happy. You don't need anyone else so don't think you do. Other people are a bonus, not a requirement

13. what are you doing right now?

Answering this long ass thing thanks to you, Sam

14. what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Piercings. I've conquered my fear of tattoos and piercing are next, write what I'm telling you

15. what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

My grandma's house

16. if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Physically? My weight. Because I've been fighting it ever since I was like 4 and so I could go under surgery and change my chest.

In general? Just...I would like to be more simple. I feel like other people in the world are way simpler than I am. Think and feel in a simpler way. Or I'm too complicated, depends on how you want to see it. I would like to feel simple

18. do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

No, to both. If I allowed myself to believe in any of those I would become way too paranoid and that's a no no

19. favourite thing about the day?

Getting home after a long day

20. favourite things about the night?

Actually getting to sleep properly, which is being an impossibility at the moment

21. are you a spiritual person?

No. I don't believe in any god or religion or entity. I max believe that the universe has my back and everything will work out somehow. But that's it

22. say 3 things about someone you love

My grandma is an amazing cook. I love her snuggles. I miss her every day

23. say 3 things about someone you hate

My uncle was assaulted last week, aparently. Not to be mean, but he could have died. I wish he had died

24. what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

Not having killed myself when I really really wanted to. Living is super nice and I enjoy it quite a lot

25. fave season and why?

Autumn. Because it's when I was born and it's spooky season! And hella cozy! I love cozy!

26. fave colour and why?

Blue. Because it feels calming and reminds me of the ocean and/or water in general

27. any nicknames?

My friends used to call me "Mouse" when I was in school. It was an inside joke

28. do you collect anything?

I collect books and military jackets

30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

Honestly? Without being sappy, you guys. Every time I'm having a shit day and I come here to complain y'all manage to cheer me up. It's very sweet and I thank you very much

31. are you messy or organised?

I am proudly organized in my messiness

32. how many tabs do you have open right now?

On pc? 4

On the phone? 48. 47 of those are fanfics

33. any hobbies?

Mainly reading and writing. I don't have time for much else

34. any pet peeves?

When people are slow. Not only walking, but in general: thinking, moving. It annoys the shit out of me

35. do you trust easily?

Oh no. Not at all. I think the only people I currently trust are my grandma and my therapist. And one of them I pay them to trust them so-

36. are you an open book or do you have walls up?

Way way too many walls up. I've been broken more times than I care to count and that does something to someone, lemme tell ya

37. share a secret

I stole a Hello Kitty necklace from a girl I hated when I was like 7. I still have it, as a trophy. I really hated that girl

39. youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

Pinely! He's so fucking funny and I love his accent. Besides, his videos are amazing. Go watch it!

Ooof, okay. That's it, right? I tried to give short answers so it wouldn't get too annoying, but there we are. Hope you're happy, Sam!

[jungle-angel]

Even More Summer Prompts

Guys I’m really itching for some writing prompts/scenarios/blurbs or anything really. I’m dying to write alot but I feel like I’m stuck in a rut, writing the same thing over and over again. Send in requests, come talk, literally anything!!! (lol). Taking requests for Top Gun Maverick, Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Salem’s Lot, Catch 22 (Hulu) and Press Play. 

1. “It’s too hot to sleep, you wanna go to Wal Mart instead?” 

2. “Shit, the air conditioner broke again” 

3. “Wanna go skinny dipping?” 

4. Watching a thunderstorm roll in on the front porch

5. Inspecting for ticks

6. “You look like you need a cool bath” 

7. Lemonade or iced tea on the front porch

8. Laying in the hammock and feeling the warm sun on theirs and their s.o’s faces

9. Helping their s.o to recover from a sunburn

10. “I’ve got sand in places I’ve never even heard of” 

11. Collecting seashells and driftwood at the beach

12. Fourth of July fireworks

13. Swimming at the lake or the beach

14. “I ate so much at the cookout, I think I’m gonna explode” 

15. Summer at the rodeo

16. Hawaiian shirts

17. Who’s the grill-master? 

18. Summer garden

19. Waking up on a summer morning

20. “You wanna hang out? It’s nice and cool in here” 

21. Summer bonfires

22. Drive-in movie night 

23. Summer fishing trip

24. Ice cream for dinner (sorry I’m craving this really bad)

25. What’s on their summer playlist

26. “We don’t have enough beer.....wanna run?” 

27. Canoe trip

28. Hanging the freshly washed clothes on the clothesline 

29. Their s.o being all sweaty and getting a bath outside

30. What’s on their summer playlist?

31. Sex in the field of wildflowers (Smut)

32. Summer picnic by the lake

33. Making a flower or shell crown for their s.o

34. Pick your own corn from the cornfield

35. Summer farmers’ market

36. Heat wave

37. “Oh God, this rope swing is so old” 

38. “This is the biggest slip n slide I’ve ever seen” 

39. Baseball games

40. Day at the amusement park

41. “How do these smores come out so perfect?” 

42. Stargazing with their s.o

43. Swimming near and under a waterfall

44. Chasing down the ice cream truck

45. Summer camping trip

46. Seeing a rainbow after a thunderstorm

47. Summer road trip

48. Homemade bug repellent

49. Cooking outside during a heatwave

50. Making sure that their s.o is drinking enough water on a hot day

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Daily Light on the Daily Path by Samuel Bagster

Daily Reading for August 30th

Exodus 16:15 When the sons of Israel saw it, they said to one another, "What is it?" For they did not know what it was. And Moses said to them, "It is the bread which the LORD has given you to eat.

1 Timothy 3:16 By common confession, great is the mystery of godliness: He who was revealed in the flesh, Was vindicated in the Spirit, Seen by angels, Proclaimed among the nations, Believed on in the world, Taken up in glory.

John 6:33 "For the bread of God is that which comes down out of heaven, and gives life to the world."

John 6:49,51,55 "Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. • "I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh." • "For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink.

Luke 16:17,18,21 "But it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one stroke of a letter of the Law to fail. • "Everyone who divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery, and he who marries one who is divorced from a husband commits adultery. • and longing to be fed with the crumbs which were falling from the rich man's table; besides, even the dogs were coming and licking his sores.

Exodus 16:17,18,21 The sons of Israel did so, and some gathered much and some little. • When they measured it with an omer, he who had gathered much had no excess, and he who had gathered little had no lack; every man gathered as much as he should eat. • They gathered it morning by morning, every man as much as he should eat; but when the sun grew hot, it would melt.

Matthew 6:31-33 "Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?' • "For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. • "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

[virgoilluminati]

One Shot List

Heya, so after the end of Belongings I am planning to have a little break from fanfic series’s to focus on doing smaller fics. But knowing me… they’ll end up becoming short series’s of their own. 😆

So the plan is basically, requests for anyone on my masterlist is open, so just ask me what prompt you would like and who you would like it for, and I’ll write you a fic. ❣️❣️❣️ Been wanting to do this for a while so please send me requests (even if they’re not on this list too). I don’t bite…. (Or do I hehe😏) JK I DON’T I PROMISE

Here’s the prompt list:

1. "You're hair is really soft after you wash it."

2. Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."

3. You smell really nice."

4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.

5. 'I might have slept with your robe when you were gone."

6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

7. Here, let's share the blanket.

8. You're comfy."

9. You are my new pillow."

I0. "You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.

11. "But I want to hear you sing.

12. "We can talk over dinner."

13. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"

14. "Don't get up - I'll do it."

15. "Will you let me rub your back?"

16: "Care to give me a back scratch?"

17. "Star-gazing was a good idea."

18. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight."

19. "I'll always be here for you.

20. "TIl be here to protect you."

21. "I think I love you."

22. "You are my love."

23. "How about something warm? It will will help you sleep.

24. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."

25. "Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you.

26. It is not morning yet."

27. "Shush and go back to bed."

28. "I heard you talking in your sleep."

29. "Your bed head is really cute.

30. "We'll do dishes together.

31. "How about a kiss?"

32. “I love your hugs."

33. "Come over here and make me.

34. "Have you lost your damn mind!?"

35. "Please, don't leave."

36. "Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?"

37. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

38. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

39. "I almost lost you."

40. "Wanna bet?"

41. "Don't you ever do that again!"

42. "Teach me how to play?"

43. "Don't you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!"

44. "I think we need to talk."

45. "Kiss me."

46. "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."

47. "So, I found this waterfall..."

48. "It could be worse."

49. "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..

50. "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."

51. "The paint's supposed to go where?"

52. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

53. "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"

54. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

55. "You come here often?"

56. "Can I offer you a drink?"

57. "So.. You expecting someone?"

58. "Do you need a place to stay for tonight?"

59. "I gotta tell you... you look incredibly hot.

60. "Do you want to dance with me?"

61. "Look at us... we are basically a couple already."

62. "I bet you would look even better without your clothes on."

63. "Are you single? Just asking."

64. "You're the most beautiful person I have ever encountered."

65. "What would you say if you and me would go somewhere else?"

66. "I love the way you're dressed."

67. "Do I have any chances with you?"

68. "Do you have anything better to do later?"

69. "Can I get your phone number?"

70. "You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type."

71. "I can do whatever you want, babe."

72. "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."

73. "I bet guys/gals/people are all over you.

74. "You should be a model."

75. "Are you... trying to flirt with me?"

76. "Maybe if I get a free drink I can consider talking to you."

77. "That won't work. Try again."

78. "Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?"

79. "I'm waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile."

80 "You don't look so bad yourself."

81. "I thought you were taken."

82. "So, have you flirted with every girl/boy/one in this bar yet?"

83. "Do I look like someone who seems interested in you?"

84. "Compliments won't pay my drinks."

[whisperthatruns]

Jail Poems

1

I am sitting in a cell with a view of evil parallels, Waiting thunder to splinter me into a thousand me's. It is not enough to be in one cage with one self; I want to sit opposite every prisoner in every hole. Doors roll and bang, every slam a finality, bang! The junkie disappeared into a red noise, stoning out his hell. The odored wino congratulates himself on not smoking, Fingerprints left lying on black inky gravestones, Noises of pain seeping through steel walls crashing Reach my own hurt. I become part of someone forever. Wild accents of criminals are sweeter to me than hum of cops, Busy battening down hatches of human souls; cargo Destined for ports of accusations, harbors of guilt. What do policemen eat, Socrates, still prisoner, old one?

2

Painter, paint me a crazy jail, mad water-color cells. Poet, how old is suffering? Write it in yellow lead. God, make me a sky on my glass ceiling. I need stars now, To lead through this atmosphere of shrieks and private hells, Entrances and exits, in . . . out . . . up . . . down, the civic seesaw. Here — me — now — always here somehow.

3

In a universe of cells—who is not in jail? Jailers. In a world of hospitals—who is not sick? Doctors. A golden sardine is swimming in my head. Oh we know some things, man, about some things Like jazz and jails and God. Saturday is a good day to go to jail.

4

Now they give a new form, quivering jelly-like, That proves any boy can be president of Muscatel. They are mad at him because he's one of Them. Gray-speckled unplanned nakedness; stinking Fingers grasping toilet bowl. Mr. America wants to bathe. Look! On the floor, lying across America's face— A real movie star featured in a million newsreels. What am I doing—feeling compassion? When he comes out of it, he will help kill me. He probably hates living.

5

Nuts, skin bolts, clanking in his stomach, scrambled. His society's gone to pieces in his belly, bloated. See the great American windmill, tilting at itself, Good solid stock, the kind that made America drunk. Success written all over his street-streaked ass. Successful-type success, forty home runs in one inning. Stop suffering, Jack, you can't fool us. We know. This is the greatest country in the world, ain't it? He didn't make it. Wino in Cell 3.

6

There have been too many years in this short span of mine. My soul demands a cave of its own, like the Jain god; Yet I must make it go on, hard like jazz, glowing In this dark plastic jungle, land of long night, chilled. My navel is a button to push when I want inside out. Am I not more than a mass of entrails and rough tissue? Must I break my bones? Drink my wine-diluted blood? Should I dredge old sadness from my chest? Not again, All those ancient balls of fire, hotly swallowed, let them lie. Let me spit breath mists of introspection, bits of me, So that when I am gone, I shall be in the air.

7

Someone whom I am is no one. Something I have done is nothing. Someplace I have been is nowhere. I am not me. What of the answers I must find questions for? All these strange streets I must find cities for, Thank God for beatniks.

8

All night the stink of rotting people, Fumes rising from pyres of live men, Fill my nose with gassy disgust, Drown my exposed eyes in tears.

9

Traveling God salesmen, bursting my ear drum With the dullest part of a good sexy book, Impatient for Monday and adding machines.

10

Yellow-eyed dogs whistling in evening.

11

The baby came to jail today.

12

One more day to hell, filled with floating glands.

13

The jail, a huge hollow metal cube Hanging from the moon by a silver chain. Someday Johnny Appleseed is going to chop it down.

14

Three long strings of light Braided into a ray.

15

I am apprehensive about my future; My past has turned its back on me.

16

Shadows I see, forming on the wall, Pictures of desires protected from my own eyes.

17

After spending all night constructing a dream, Morning came and blinded me with light. Now I seek among mountains of crushed eggshells For the God damned dream I never wanted.

18

Sitting here writing things on paper, Instead of sticking the pencil into the air.

19

The Battle of Monumental Failures raging, Both hoping for a good clean loss.

20

Now I see the night, silently overwhelming day.

21

Caught in imaginary webs of conscience, I weep over my acts, yet believe.

22

Cities should be built on one side of the street.

23

People who can't cast shadows Never die of freckles.

24

The end always comes last.

25

We sat at a corner table, Devouring each other word by word, Until nothing was left, repulsive skeletons.

26

I sit here writing, not daring to stop, For fear of seeing what's outside my head.

27

There, Jesus, didn't hurt a bit, did it?

28

I am afraid to follow my flesh over those narrow Wide hard soft female beds, but I do.

29

Link by link, we forged the chain. Then, discovering the end around our necks, We bugged out.

30

I have never seen a wild poetic loaf of bread, But if I did, I would eat it, crust and all.

31

From how many years away does a baby come?

32

Universality, duality, totality . . . .one.

33

The defective on the floor, mumbling, Was once a man who shouted across tables.

34

Come, help flatten a raindrop.

Written in San Francisco City Prison Cell 3, 1959

Bob Kaufman (1925--1986), Collected Poems of Bob Kaufman (City Lights Books, 2019)

[flowersforvax]

Note to self concerning the critical role liveshow:

1)if they ever do another one in europe go go go go go!

2) do not. Do NOT. do what you did this time and fly in on the day. You did not sleep a wink until you were in the plane and when you tried to take a nap in your hotel room before the show you were wide awake and couldn't. But you know what you were yawning through? The whole second half of the show you were so excited to see. Fly in a day early. Get settled. Sleep the night before. Which has the added bonus of-

3) go to the show like- two hours? Before entry? Maybe more. There was an insane amount of people just hanging out outside of the venue and if you want to take some selfies with cosplayers this would be the perfect time to do it. If you're not doing that, at least add about half an hour to the estimated time on Google maps, just in case you get lost again 💀

4)do NOT feel overdressed for going in cosplay! Who cares if that girl entering the train took one look at you and laughed! There will be so many sweet critters complimenting you to make up for it! And you value their opinion so much more! ( ...but yeah, adding the ears and earrings at the venue was probably a good call 😅 )

5) Because you didn'tt sleep you felt kind of sick on and off all day so all you ate was a chocolate croissant from the german airport (spread over several hours) half of one of those hard snack pretzels to settle your stomach, and then for some godforsaken reason loaded nachos at the venue??? Anyway I still feel sick this morning so. Next time just get a late lunch/early dinner right before the show and then get some Popcorn like a normal person. Also when you have to empty your bottle at entry, don't throw it away: this venue had a free water refill Station but all you had was the bottle without cap from the nacho stand so you were afraid to spill it the whole show.

5.1) Don't! Put your bag on the ground! You were so goddamn lucky with holding it between your feet because goddamn did nobody else worry about spilling their drinks. Yikes.

Victims of the spills. I don't feel so good, Mr. Stark

6) it's colder than you think in the audience so bring a cardigan to put on your cosplay - also, wear a jacket that's not too bulky in case they don't have a coat room, you had to wrestle that stupid coat all night

7) no spillable beverages. Bottles only. That was a fucking unnecessary amount of time you spent trying to wash out the coffee, trying to dry it by crouching under the hand dryer and just generally being annoyed about it. Also if you sleep the night before you don't need 16⁰⁰ o'clock coffee you dumb bitch. You know it doesn't even wake you up, why do you keep trying?

8) GOD I HOPE DANIEL SLOSS WEARS THEM DOWN AND THEY DO A SHOW IN SCOTLAND SO THAT I CAN EXPERIENCE THIS AGAIN but smarter. Also, what a fucking sentence. No idea if they announced he was gonna be there but I missed it and it felt fucking wild.

[nightsidewrestling]

D.U.D.E Part 19 - Treat Her Right (Set in 2021)

Note: This is set in a universe where Men VS Women / Intergender matches can happen.

Chapter 1: here Chapter 2: here Chapter 3: here Chapter 4: here Chapter 5: here Chapter 6: here Chapter 7: here Chapter 8: here Chapter 9: here Chapter 10: here Chapter 11: here Chapter 12: here Chapter 13: here Chapter 14: here Chapter 15: here Chapter 16: here Chapter 17: here Chapter 18: here

Tags: @piratewithvigor @tantamount-treason @thedollmaker16 @janetreader

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places (those chapters will be marked as 'Mature / sexual content' just to be safe). Please inform me if you wish to be tagged or untagged from posts. If the text is in italics and orange it's Kirby's inner monologue. If the text is coloured but not in italics, it's either dialogue or a P.O.V change (P.O.V changes will be in bold and translated dialogue will appear in square [ ] brackets), Key below. Quick note on Geia's text colour: Yes I do know that as Greed she should be in yellow but I decided to colour the men's dialogue yellow so Geia was changed to be pink like the other women in the story outside of the main 8.

The Main 8: Damo - Bio. Vi - Bio. Billie - Bio. Geia - Bio. Kirby - Bio. Honey - Bio. Eli - Bio. Sara - Bio.

Kirby's P.O.V:

Eddie treats Kirby to everything she wants for the six weeks after she gives birth, date nights at every restaurant he can find Within Yonkers, massages, full days spent shopping for stuff, both things for Kirby and the twins. Slowly getting Kirby and the twins used to longer car rides. Gathering everything they need for the twins and themselves and doing the long, ten hour, drive down to Florida.

Ethan Page is the first person to greet them at the Airbnb the next morning, Friday 2nd September 2021.

"Oh hi, I'm guessing you heard the news." Kirby chuckles when she answers the door, still in just an oversized shirt, boxer shorts and her black yoga pants she slept in.

"I was told you had the babies." Page beams.

"Ethan, meet Emyr and Ethan."

Page's eyes light up, "You did not."

"yeah, we named him Ethan, I kept thinking about how long you've known Eddie, and how much you and Eddie have impacted each other's careers."

"Oh my God," Page hugs Kirby tightly, "you're so sweet."

"Don't squeeze me, Ethan, I had a bad night last night."

"Oh no, everything okay?"

"Yeah, Eddie decide that we would relax with a couple drinks… and I only had one beer I felt off. I think my body's rejecting anything bad for the twins."

"Maybe, Renee did say that you're breastfeeding." Page shrugs.

"Wifey, what's goin' on?" Eddie asks, walking up behind Kirby in just a tank top and boxers.

"I'm introducing Ethan to Ethan." She smiles softly, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around her waist.

"Emyr has my eyes, Ethan has his beautiful mother's eyes." Eddie murmurs.

"Oh, so they aren't identical… they look almost identical."

"Small differences," Kirby whispers, "but I can tell my boys apart"

"How?" Page asks quietly.

"Emyr has green eyes and faint freckles on his face and shoulders. Ethan has blue eyes, no freckles but he does have… oh, what's it called, a port-wine stain? Basically a birthmark covering his right knee and part of his right thigh."

"My sons, my adorable baby boys." Eddie kisses both of the twins' heads.

Emyr yawns and opens his eyes, bright green like Eddie's. Emyr takes more after his father, slightly more tanned skin and harsher features, seemingly only taking his mother's freckles, his hair a darker shade of blond than his brother. Eddie picks his eldest son up, letting 'All Ego' see the similarities between him and his first son.

"Wait here, Mox got us stuff, it makes the boys look a lot more like Eddie." Kirby whispers to Page, heading to grab a box from the bedroom.

She returns to the nursery with a small box, 'Emyr' is written on the top in Renee's handwriting, she opens it and places the box in the cot, taking Emyr from Eddie to change his diaper and dress him. A black and yellow baby grow, a small graphic t-shirt with Tupac on it, a faux rosary with a pacifier instead of a cross, baby-sixed timberlands and a baby-sized black, Yankees cap.

Page starts giggling when Kirby hands Emyr back to Eddie, she heads off to get the other box as 'All Ego' pulls out his phone, dressing their younger son in an almost identical outfit, the only difference is the t-shirt, a baby version of Kirby's Ice Cube shirt. Eddie holds both of his sons up and Page takes a photo.

Ethan opens his eyes when Page holds him, showing off the bright blue eyes he's inherited from his mother, his features are softer than Emyr and Eddie's, paler skin, a softer jawline, a thicker bottom lip and much 'kinder' looking brow-line. As Kirby described he has no freckles or beauty marks. His skin is more porcelain in colour than his brother's sun-kissed tone.

"So, how's it feel to meet a baby named after you?" Kirby asks as she takes baby Ethan back into her arms.

"It's amazing, he's adorable. His brother's also adorable." Page smiles softly, clearly trying not to cry.

"Eddie still needs to think of who their godfathers will be. I know that Renee will be their godmother, and Ruthie can't be because she's their grandma. If she weren't related to them though, she would for sure be a godparent. I wouldn't have gotten through the pregnancy without her."

"How are you handling being a mother? I heard someone say you were told you couldn't have kids."

"I view my boys as miracles, mainly because I was under the belief I couldn't get pregnant, let alone pregnant with twins," She chuckles when Eddie hands Emyr to her, "What're you doing, Pá [dad]?"

"Gettin' a can of Red Bull from the fridge, mama," He kisses her gently, "I love you," he runs his fingers over the scar on her cheek, "my badass beautiful wifey."

"You owe me a coffee, Jefe [boss]."

"Jefe, you callin' me 'Jefe' now, Ma?" Eddie chuckles.

"Head of the household, ain't ya, big boss, El Jefe [the boss]?"

Eddie nods, grabbing a can of Red Bull from the fridge and sitting next to page on the couch, "Well, Ma, I may be the head of the household. But you, oh brotha, you are way more powerful than me."

"Yeah, I've seen clips from C.R.C, you've lifted guys who are five-hundred pounds plus." Page adds.

"That's because it's part of my job." Kirby shrugs.

"Lifting five-hundred pound men, Ma are ya hearin' yourself? 'I's part of my job'? To lift five-hundred pound men?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at his ivory-skinned wife.

"Yes, during my time in C.R.C it was a part of my job. Eddie, during your time with C.Z.W it was your job to do death-matches." Kirby raises an eyebrow back at her tanned husband.

"She's got you there, Eddie." Page mutters.

"You stay outta this, this is between me and her." Eddie grumbles.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve, Edward? Did I touch a nerve there?" Kirby smirks.

"Cierra la boca [Shut your mouth]." Eddie growls.

"Hazme [make me]." She growls in return.

"Ven auqí [come here], Mami." Eddie gets up, going over to Kirby, lifting her chin roughly and growling as he kisses her.

"Te amo [I love you], Papi." She whispers against his lips.

"Page, you may wanna leave… now."

'All Ego' gets up, leaving quickly. Eddie takes the twins, placing them in the cot before hoisting Kirby over his shoulder, taking her to the bed and making out with her.

"You little slut." Eddie growls against her lips, climbing over her.

Kirby flips their position and straddles his lap, "I'm only a slut for you, Papi."

"Damn right, ya only mine, you wanna fuck your Papi, Ma?"

"So soon after havin' twins, only if you use protection, Papi."

Eddie smirks, "We could go dry, or I could get off watchin' you get off." He suggests.

"Mutual masturbation or dry humping? I'd really prefer if you-"

Kirby goes silent when she hears the front door open, both her and Eddie sharing a worried look.

"Eddie?" Moxley's voice echoes through the house, "Kirby? You have guests… He Emyr, hey Ethan, how're my nephews doing?"

"So close to lettin' you tear my ass in two, but no, we have fuckin' visitors." Kirby grumbles.

Eddie's eyes light up, "Fuck them, you've never let me do that before."

"Eddie, no… Edward, we have guests."

"Fuck." Eddie grumbles.

Kirby and Eddie's shared sour mood is quickly dropped when they see their guests.

"Jack!" Eddie grins, letting out a breathless chuckle.

"Eddie!" Marciano chuckles, pulling Eddie into a tight hug.

Kirby looks from her former commentary partner to the other guests, Renee, carrying her and Jon's daughter Nora, and three others. One a rather tall, tanned man with waist length black hair in a long braid, wearing one of the old C.R.C merch shirts and jeans. Ashkii Tsinajinnie. The second, a short Japanese woman, a pink shirt with 'Sakura Power' written on the front and pink gym shorts on, matching her half-pink, half-black hair. Yoshi Nakagawa. The third and final guest from Kirby's past is an average height, around five-foot-seven, black man, nearly 300 pounds of both fat and muscle, his head shaved, wearing black sweatpants and one of Kirby's merch t-shirts from before she was gluttony.

"Mike! Mikey?!" Kirby starts tearing up.

"Kirby… Princess? Lawd a massi!" Mike pushes past Ash and Yoshi, taking Kirby's face in his hands, "Oh, Princess, breathe easy, you an Empress now, baby gal." His Jamaican accent brings back a flood of memories from his and Kirby's shared past.

"Mikey, I missed ya, ya dope." She whispers, taking a deep breath.

Mike holds Kirby close to him, kissing her cheek and rocking her to keep her calm, "Oh, mis sistren, look at you, an Auntie, not jus' an Auntie but a Mammy now."

"Eddie, what's wrong?" Jack whispers.

"You're Mike" Eddie asks, completely astonished, "You're the guy she's cried over? You…" Eddie's astonishment turns into anger, "You kicked my wife outta your home?!"

Jack and Mox rush to hold Eddie back. Kirby pulls away from Mike and rushes to Eddie, holding his face, witnessing the rage in his eyes.

"Eddie, calm." Kirby whispers, her jaw dropping when Eddie pushes her aside.

"No, not wit' him. You," Eddie points at Mike, "you helped Damien get in her head, you knew she didn't want to be gluttony, if her parents weren't around she would have been homeless, you could have helped her but you didn't! I understand now why ya ring name is 'Monster', because you are one!" Eddie yells, getting up close with Mike

"Eddie, don't." Kirby rushes up to the side of both men, trying to push them apart.

Mike pushes Kirby away, by her face, knocking her to the floor, "How the fuck do ya know about my past, huh? She been tellin' you tings she ain't got no right to talk on."

Mike storms out, taking Ash and Yoshi with him. Kirby storms off in the opposite direction, leaving through the back door, hearing Eddie's footsteps behind her as she walks, going down the back alley between two rows of houses.

"Ma, wait!" Eddie hollers.

"Go fuck yourself, Kingston!" Kirby yells as she continues walking.

"Babe, just give me a chance."

"To do what? To ruin more of my chances at ever gettin' a friend back?"

"If he did that shit to you, was he ever a friend?"

Kirby stops walking, standing completely still as she thinks about it. Eddie's right, Mike practically handed me to Damien. he willingly let me get brainwashed by that tyrant.

"Doll?" Eddie whispers as he walks up behind her.

"Fuck, Eddie, I'm sorry… you're right, he fucked me over, he let me go."

Eddie wraps his arms around Kirby, checking if she's been hurt, "Breathe, ya a'ight, a'ight?"

"Yeah, yea… I'm good."

Eddie leads her back to the house, right as Emyr and Ethan wake up, the boys crying when they wake up.

"Oh, my baby boys." Kirby runs to the cot, picking up her sons and holding them close.

Marciano and Moxley check up on Eddie, Renee helps Kirby feed the twins, grabbing a bag of breastmilk from the fridge. Renee gives Ethan a bottle of breastmilk and Kirby takes her shirt off to feed Emyr.

"God damn, look at those tits!" Eddie hollers.

"Eddie, I'm feeding our baby, don't you get all fuckin' horny on me."

"Look at how fuckin' sexy you are though," Eddie smirks, kissing Kirby gently, "ya so sexy, Ma, so beautiful."

Kirby shakes her head, chuckling softly when she looks over at Renee. Renee mouths 'Go kiss him'. Kirby finishes feeding Emyr as Eddie walks out to the garage. She hands Emyr to Moxley, putting her shirt on as she walks to the garage.

"Eddie, hold up." She reaches for his hand as he gets to the car.

"What's up, Kirby?" He raises an eyebrow as he looks at her.

"Uhh… well, I… I wanted to do this…" She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, gently at first but slowly heating up when Eddie puts his hands on her waist.

"Oh fuck, Ma," Eddie whispers against her lips, "every time you kiss me, it feels like the first time again."

[asispsyche]

I am. In hell right now.

Yesterday was a generally weird day on its own, but then I went to metal shop to finish a project that was due this morning. That ended up lasting from 6 until... this morning. I leave at like 4am. I walk to Target because I can't remember if this one assignment that I need a folder for is due today (it wasn't) and it is drizzling and Target is closed. I am in the city completely and totally alone at 4am and now I know what it is to be a horror game protagonist. The buses are not running so I walk home. Still drizzling. Before I ever left metal shop, around 3 am, my phone stopped fucking working. Frozen screen, won't respond to anything, won't even turn off. So I have no idea what time it is. Why do I care? Because I need to finish a project for my other art class. Half of which was going to be photography. Photography that is now trapped inside my useless phone and not in the cloud because HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS WOULD HAPPEN? I am back at square 1 and the project is due at 9 am. I reach my dorm. I ask the guy at the front desk what time it is. "4:57." "Thanks." Fuck. I change, drink a Monster, and get to work finishing this entire project by 7:30 am, at which point I need to leave for my metal class, because we're presenting that project today because it is the last day of class and it won't be accepted late. 7:30 comes and I realize I'll just have to be late for the sake of finishing the other project. I do it. I finish. I submit the project. I go straight to metal shop. I present. It's a hit. I come to terms with the fact that I will not see the metal shop until next fall, if I am finally lucky enough to get into one of the next classes. I didn't this time because I got screwed with my registration time. Like my entire schedule is wack. I go home. Earlier, I emailed my mother because that was all I could think to do and I don't know my sisters' social medias or their phone numbers because why would I. Anyway, I emailed my mom so that when I obviously don't respond to any texts or calls, she hopefully won't think I'm dead and call the cops. When I reach my dorm, I don't know if she's gotten the email yet so I borrow a phone and call her. No answer. She has no time for scammers. Understandable. I leave a message. I go upstairs and see that she did respond to my email, and we decide that we'll deal with my phone tomorrow when she comes to get me for Thanksgiving Break. Ok. At least she knows why I'm unreachable and that I'm not dead. She can never know that I was out in the city completely alone at 4am. 40 min to my next class. I go and somehow wind up being 10 minutes late. I don't know how. I don't remember a single thing from that class. I remember fighting to stay awake. I'm pretty sure I succeeded, seeing as no one woke me up to go "What the fuck is wrong with you?" People liked my project. My project I lost 2 weeks worth of work on and did in about 2 1/2 hours. This is the last day of that class too, so we take home all the work we turned in over the semester. I think a few of my pieces might be missing? I have bigger problems. I have my astronomy lab final tonight. Which is why my mom is coming to get me tomorrow, because i can't leave tonight and tomorrow I have to be out by 10 am. So here I am, at 2:16 pm, with a shaky grasp at best on reality, thinking of how I have to go to Target again because I really need bandaids (You think saws are dangerous? You fool. You utter buffoon. It's the files. It's the frantic filing a piece of metal enough to solder because by god you will not fail this project but also you have dry skin.) and I still haven't had anything to eat since 4-ish pm yesterday except for a Monster and I still haven't done my laundry or taken out the trash and jesus christ is it really 2:27 pm already???

Anyway nothing feels real