#if i cannot go to church my brother will probably come and stay with me. don't know if i want that or if i don't. would probably entail

[geneeste]

why would i want to connect with a shitty person#why do YOU want to connect with a shitty person i'm not a therapist i'm not a magical leprechaun that'll take them on a journey of self-discovery and reevaluation of life choices if they're shitty they're shitty. they can work on that themselves but i don't have to 'connect' with them to hold their hands while they do

'your circle of acquaintances must be small' not all countries are murrikka

Oh, honey.

The thing about Tumblr is that, as amazing as it is for fandom and self-discovery, it is very much not real life. The things I would recommend for a good experience here — liberal blocking, curating your bubble, ignoring trolls — is not good advice for dealing with real humans in real life.

In my tags that you’re referencing, I said the shittiest person you know is still a person. And if you stop seeing people as flawed but real humans, you lose all chance of connecting with them, and then you lose any chance of productive change, for either of you.

Here’s something I’ve struggled with my whole life and that I’ve learned from my mother: you cannot shame and rage a bigot out of being a bigot, and an isolated bigot will stay a bigot forever.

My mom is an amazing woman. She was raised in the racist and homophobic Southern Baptist Church in the U.S. Deep South and was closeted for half of her life. She’s suspected she’s autistic or ADHD, because she was always different in ways that being gay didn’t really explain. And because of that, and because her family were a bunch of assholes, she was singled out for physical abuse amongst her siblings.

To get away from that, she married basically the first dude she thought she could get her out, and then spent another decade or two being abused by that asshole. When she was finally free of him, she managed to keep my brother and I alive, despite the best efforts of my father to interfere. We were still living in the South and teenagers when she came out, despite how dangerous it still was for a divorced woman with minors to be openly lesbian.

I tell you all of this so that you understand the kind of shit she’s had to deal with her whole life. In my opinion, she would have been justified to cut her family out of her life, to leave the bigots in her home town in the dust of their own decrepit prejudice forever, and deliver an epic smackdown whenever a bigot tries her.

But she doesn’t. I’ve watched her go to the same hairdresser (her cousin, because in these towns everyone is related to each other somehow) who’d make ignorant comments about gay people while she did my mom’s hair and slowly help her change by being kind and vulnerable and asking honest questions about why her cousin thought those things.

I’ve seen her do this with countless people, countless times — “oh, what makes you say that? Did you know I’m gay? We’ve known each other for years, have I ever made you uncomfortable? You’ve always been my friend, so I know you love me and wouldn’t say that about me. I know you have a very strong faith, here’s what I’ve read in the Bible about that. You’re a very loving person, I know you care more about people than that thing you just said shows.”

And it works! I’ve seen so many people change for the better because of their relationships with my mom, and I’ve come to realize that this is probably the only way for people *to* change — through patience, kindness, and genuine connection.

This is really hard to do. These kinds of conversations require you to be present and be vulnerable, to be willing to find common ground with someone who seems so different from you and who believe things about you that are hurtful and untrue.

Although this seems to be my mom’s approach somehow, every single time, she’s had a lifetime of being herself and being *confident* in herself, and of practicing these kind of vulnerable conversations. So I’m not saying you can or should do this with everyone you meet.

Some people won’t be ready, and some people won’t be safe. And because it takes time and patience, you might not have the opportunity to do this in a way that will really help someone grow. But I’ve seen a surprising number of people who only needed someone who’s willing to take a chance on them, to really connect with them, become better people.

You can’t hate someone else — or yourself — into being a better person. But you can love them through it.

[free-for-all-fics]

Final part of the Modern Rockstar Lioncourt Saga Prompt! Again, special thanks to @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit for adding the French! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! ❤️🩸🎸

“Lestat and I have decided to start this vlog uh, so that we can answer some questions about being a vampire. Hi, my name’s Y/N Lioncourt. You guys probably recognize me from my band, The Vampire Lestat. As you probably already know, I’m a vampire. Um… I’m eternally 26 years old, um… I’ve got to suck peoples’ blood until just before they die to survive, as does the rest of my family. My brother's a vampire, my mother’s a vampire. It’s…hereditary.”

“Sister, come on, I’m trying to watch this figure skating. Can you settle it down?”

“Lestat, you’re still watching figure skating?”

“Yes, it’s very graceful, sister, you should get into it. Calm and soothing, relaxing…”

“All right, Lestat. I’m trying to do my vlog.”

“Tu as besoin de le faire ici?” (Do you have to do it here?)

“Lestat! This is the only place I’m allowed to have my computer!”

“Oh! C’est mon moment préféré! (It’s my favorite part!) My favorite part! Look!” Lestat points at the screen. “He just lifted her up and put her down!”

“Okay, listen, watch your figure skating, I’m getting back to this, okay? The thing that really, really sucks is that people don’t really know much about vampires. Lestat and I are always having to answer stupid questions like, you know, like, ‘does your family celebrate Christmas?’ and yes, once and for all, we celebrate Christmas. Lestat, qu’est-ce que l’on fait pour Noël?” (what do we do at Christmas?)

“We drink eggnog-infused blood…”

“That’s when we get humans soooo drunk on eggnog. There’s rum in that. That’s what eggnog is. It’s like basically what you make mayonnaise out of and rum. How much eggnog-infused blood did you have that one Christmas, Lestat?”

“I don’t know. Like…18 adult humans’ worth or something? I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did! Eggnog’s strong! You can’t just have 18 adult humans’ worth of eggnog-infused blood, Lestat! You can’t keep bringing humans over to our house every Christmas and have them drink all the eggnog!”

“I didn’t know that at the time. Oops.”

“Lestat!”

“What?”

“What do we play at Christmas?”

“We like to play Gargoyle.”

“I’m really good at it.”

“She’s the best gargoyle! Elle est incroyable!” (She is incredible!)

“Should I…should I do it?”

“You wanna do it? Show them your gargoyle!”

“All right. Ahhh I don’t know! So at Christmas, we go up on top of the roof of a church, we watch people go in and out and we play gargoyle and I always win. Here’s my gargoyle.” You lift your hands up like a cat with claws out and make a face, baring your fangs and sticking your tongue out a little.

Lestat starts wheezing.

“But you have to stay like that for like, two hours! Right?”

“Two to three hours sometimes!”

“Because when the people come back out, you can’t like, you can’t move because then they’ll know what you’re doing.”

“No, no, they’ll know you’re a real person! And not a gargoyle!”

“Exactly!”

“And my favorite is, you know, what churches nowadays have gargoyles?” Lestat bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, exactly! Fucking idiots!”

“Hey, hey!”

“What?”

“Someone has a question for you!”

“Okay?”

“Let me read it: ‘You guys are vampires and stuff, do you turn into bats?’”

“I don’t think we’ve ever tried…”

“Why don’t you try first?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah!”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to concentrate really hard.

Lestat laughs. “Looks like you're taking a shit!”

“Hold on!” You grunt and hold up a finger. You open your eyes. “Am I bat?”

“No. You’re still you.”

“No, I cannot turn into a bat. I really tried.”

“I knew that. I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

“I hate you. I actually really, really just tried.”

“Well, that’s boring! How old are you?”

“I’m 256. You know that!”

“Yeah, but the viewers didn’t! Okay. But wait, what— what’s— what’s like— what’s up? What’s up?” Lestat’s head falls on the counter. His head snaps back up a few seconds later. “No, I feel fine! Let’s go out! Let’s go to um, Jack in the Box! Do you know what I wish for?”

“What?”

“I wish Santa would come early this year and give me like all kinds of shoes and tops and cell phones and blood types…”

“Oh my god, Lestat, did you dip into the eggnog-infused blood early?”

“Maybe… Merry Christmas, little girl! I got you a puppy! Mojo! Come here! Mojo!”

“Lestat, you already got me the puppy… We’re doing our vlog. You came over to do our vlog.”

“Sister, let me show you what our graphic designers just made for the tour! Look at this!” He holds out black t-shirts with your and his face on it that say ‘Bite Me’ on the front with the tour dates on the back.

You gasp. “LESTAT! What are you doing?”

“I think it’s very creative!”

“That’s our picture!”

“I know! Not only that, they come in different colors! Look at that!” He holds out a gray one.

“Lestat! What?! Il est en train de devenir fou.” (He is getting crazy.)

“And in different sizes! This gray one is a small…”

“You’re trying to torture me!”

“Sister, here’s an extra large for you to give to your friend, Juliette.”

“Did you just call Juliette fat? I told you we can’t call her that anymore. People say it’s offensive.”

“Not fat. Extra large.”

“Oh. Then it’s okay.”

“Look, It’s like you or I are saying, ‘bite me’ on peoples’ tits!” Lestat laughs as he holds a shirt up against his chest, “that’s funny! Juliette has got to hang out with us more! I like her sense of humor! I’m gonna go suck the blood out of some people!”

~

“Hey, guys. Lestat and I are in our dressing room, just getting ready for the show. Lestat is in the other room. I know you can’t see him, but you don’t need vampire hearing to hear him practicing his vocal warmups. He takes eons to get ready. I thought I was a perfectionist, but he gives the word a new meaning. When I last saw him, he had finally picked out an outfit and was dressed so, unless he’s changed his mind for the hundredth time on what he’s going to wear, I don’t know what he’s doing. Qu’est-ce que tu fais, Lestat?” (What are you doing, Lestat?)

No response. He just continues with his vocal warmups.

“He’s probably perming his hair, painting his nails, or bleaching his eyebrows to match his five o’ clock shadow. I’m just about done, just putting on the finishing touches, like my jewelry. Luckily I had my ears pierced in Paris while I was still human, so I don’t need to use clip-ons, unlike Lestat. Ha! But you know what every rockstar needs? A tattoo! But as vampires, our skin is like marble and can’t be penetrated with needles. The tattoo machines just break upon contact. Even if they could penetrate the skin, the ink would just disappear. So I had Juliette, our Personal Assistant, go out and buy a bunch of temporary tattoos in bulk. I gave her my card and told her to go from store to store and just get whatever, buy the store’s entire stock if she had to, and Lestat and I would choose which ones we wanted from there. So hopefully she does not disappoint. I’ll be back once she gets here! J’ai tellement hâte!” (I can’t wait!)

“Hey guys, I’m back. So Juliette is here - say hi to the viewers, J!” You pan your phone camera over to her so she can be seen by your viewers.

“Hey everyone!”

You quickly move your phone camera back so it’s only you in the shot. “Okay, that's enough screen time. I know you’re like, camera shy or whatever. But look, she brought in all the temporary tattoos! She really did buy pretty much the entire stock of every craft and Halloween store in the vicinity. She came in holding like, what, four bags on each arm? There’s a lot of really cool ones in here. I chose this really cool sleeve piece. It’s got flowers and this lady portrait, but looks kinda scary. Like a demon or something. And if you guys know me, you know I love things that are pretty but have a twist of horror or gore. It’s a large piece, so Juliette is going to help me apply it. Lestat is still deciding which tattoo he wants. Not sure what he’s going to pick. Probably a lion head and a crown for our family name and his overinflated ego. He’s a basic bitch. I’ll be the one to help him apply his tattoo, since he can be very anal about his appearance and tends to nitpick, but I know what he means when he tries to describe what he wants. I’m worried that if Juliette tries to do it, she’ll do it ‘wrong’ somehow and Lestat will get impatient, throw a tantrum and, I don’t know, bite her head off or something.”

From the background, unseen, Juliette yells, “Uh, yeah, I’d rather not!”

“Lestat and I have gone through so many assistants in the past decade alone. It’s so hard to find good help these days and Juliette’s grown on me - like a parasitic twin - but still I like her. And we had so much fun at my sleepover last weekend.” You raise your voice so Juliette will know you’re addressing her. “Did you have fun, J? Shock of the century: My friends love you. Adore! They said you’re super sweet, really funny, practically begging me to invite you again which I will, of course. Can’t let the girlies down. Are you free this Friday?”

“Yeah, I should be.”

“Okay, perfect, perfect. Come over to my place straight from work. Yeah. So we’re doing a dessert themed sleepover, which means you have to bring your favorite dessert for everyone to try - everyone that’s human, that is. And then I and my vampire besties get the pleasure of sampling the blood of the humans - not you, of course. You’re my bestie! Yeah, like a dessert buffet. So fun! And you have to wear cute pastel colored pajamas, okay? Do you have anything like that or are all your pajamas like Minecraft themed?”

“I don’t have pastels, no.”

“Okay, no worries, babes. You can borrow some of mine. I’ve got plenty. I’m picturing you in this like silky lavender top I’ve got. It’s gonna be darling on you! With…these fuzzy baby blue bottoms. Oh oui, tu seras tellement mignonne avec ça! (Oh yes, you will be so cute with this!) And then um, we’re gonna play Candyland. We’re gonna do face masks. We’re gonna watch Marie Antoinette. Sofia Coppola’s version, obviously. Yeah, it’s gonna be a blast!”

~

“Hey guys, welcome back to our YouTube channel. The Vampire Lestat here. That’s right, my name is Lestat de Lioncourt, and I'm a dead man. Well, kinda dead, at least. See, I'm a vampire. I’m lucky, though. I have my sister chérie, who saw beyond my fangs. She taught me my letters when we were human and, now vampires, showed me vampires aren’t monsters. Or at least, they don't have to be. And how my thinking was keeping me from finding any kind of peace. And come hell or high water, she was gonna prove it to me. After our family passed on and we went our separate ways from Gabrielle, our mother, in Egypt, we roamed America for 100 or so years, figuring out ourselves and what it means to be a vampire, and we found revelation, our calling: To be rockstars! Now, if you think that means all that Dracula nonsense like hissing, wearing skin-tight leather, and hunting humans for sport, I wouldn't blame you one bit. That's exactly the sort of thing I’m doing now with my bandmates and my sister, and let me tell you, a vampire who's got a strong stage presence can be a real terror. Anyhoo, I have a story to tell you. It's about something that happened to me. It begins in Miami, in the year 1987, and I really want to start right there. As the world started getting smaller, more vampires tracked me down. Them being my kin, I wanted to help them see the world like I did, but they still had the same monster mindset I used to have. We were on tour from Miami to Death Valley the next night but figured we should make a pit stop to Santa Carla and check things out there. We landed in Santa Carla and arranged transportation for our coffins. I became a graffiti artist—”

“Just that the graffiti were fan letters to Marius, asking him to get in touch—”

“Did some vampire sightseeing. They got a boardwalk there that was the hot spot for carnival rides, movies, music, drugs, tattoos, piercings, and sex, and an all-you-can-eat human buffet! It was infamous as the Murder Capital of the World! That only attracted more tourists, which meant more snacks for us. Apparently that place had been accepting of heathens like us for a long time! People there were eating and screwing like there was no tomorrow. People were up all night doing all kinds of kinky stuff. I’m more than a quarter of a millennium in years but those guys could give me some lessons - and did! Well, we stayed longer than anticipated and had an impromptu concert, met some fine folk, too…apparently they’ve got a nice art scene there. There was even local funding for video game development. Isn’t this some kinda world? I can’t believe people are still playing Star Invaders and whatnot! I liked it there! I didn’t even have to speak French! We went to a coffee shop and while Andy, Larry, and Tough Cookie ordered their coffees and pastries, my sister and I funneled in stoners from upstairs to a secret club and everyone had a fucking blast.”

“Until you decided that the best way to overcome your writer’s block and to create a work of art was to ‘open your mind to the infinite possibilities of what the cosmos had to offer’ and took LSD for ‘divine inspiration’. Except you thought being a vampire meant you needed to take more than an average human to feel its effects, and you accidentally took too much and tripped for more than eighteen hours. You hallucinated so hard that you believed yourself to have had a major revelation and went to both Heaven and Hell. Something about ghosts, television evangelists, some woman named Veronica, and, among other things, you believed that you had seen Christ's crucifixion and that he offered you his blood to drink. Then you had a full Lady Macbeth meltdown and washed your face at least 20 times in those 18 hours. You were scrubbing your face so hard, paranoid that the blood from your face wouldn’t come off. Your face was perfectly clean. You were scrubbing at nothing. Then you began fighting an invisible adversary, yelling something about a veil Christ gave you for safekeeping, and nearly took your left eye out, yelling about how the devil snatched it from you. I had to restrain you to stop you from tearing yourself apart. Then you began ugly crying, wailing about how I pulled you out of Hell and you were forced to leave your left eye behind. When I showed you your reflection in the mirror to prove to you that you still had both eyes, you started whooping and hollering that Maharet must’ve returned your eye to you, singing her praises. I had to force you to go the fuck to sleep in your coffin but you were stubborn and said that you would declare war on humans and vampires because you were curious about what would happen. And when I asked you where the hell you got that idea, you said that the fish people from Atlantis told you to do it. You’re supposed to be the older brother, the responsible one in our family, yet there I was, babysitting you. Tu es et a toujours été un enfant. Un enfant insupportable.” (You are and always have been a child. An insufferable child.)

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Not my finest night. I should’ve stuck with the weed like the four of you.”

“You missed out. It was sooo good. Gave us the munchies something fierce, though. I could’ve gone for some blood chips, extra sodium. Mmmmmm…”

“My sister and I drank from more necks in one week than I could count. While we were there, we found a fan who was the leader of a group of teenage vampires. Punk guy named David, supposed to have been almost a hundred years old. Super cool guy. Met his friends or ‘brothers’ that he sired and they were also very hot. We hung from train tracks, drank blood, got high, had sex, you know how it is. But now, in 2024, I got hooked up with this newfangled Internet thing…”

Trying not to laugh your ass off, you dramatically pantomime Lestat in the background, your voice so loud that you’re drowning him out. “‘Oh, mon dieu! Look at this! Louiis mon cher.... I found this internet place called redd it.... come, you must see this article.... c'est très important.... it says that les oiseaux are NOT réels?????? that they're government agents... comment dire.... spies??? and to think que tu manges these little monstres??? Louiiis you MUST stop eating them..... peut-être que the government poisoned Paul with these birds.... Louiiiiis you MUST promise me not to eat these nasty little créatures again.... mais non! c'est grave!!!!! CHERI arrête de rire and LISTEN TO ME.... they don't even have enough vitamins in their blôôd, louieie!!!!!!’”

“Can I tell my story or are you going to be an annoying little smartass the whole time?”

“I’m your little sister. It’s my job. Et quelqu’un doit s’assurer que ton égo ne te tue pas.” (And someone needs to make sure your ego doesn’t kill you.)

“Whatever. Anyway. David asked me, my sister, and my band to come out to Santa Carla, California to perform again. He said that everyone who was in the audience back in ‘87 was dead or moved away, so nobody would recognize us. So we were going on a trip, I guess. But it felt like the perfect opportunity to experience those highs again and to overindulge!”

“Because overindulging worked out so well for you last time.”

“Shut up!”

“I had to post to my Instagram story. Look.” You then read off your phone word-for-word what you wrote:

“‘I lost my fucking brother. His name is Lestat but he’s a bitch and keeps forgetting to charge his iPhone. I keep buying him chargers. Even got him a portable power bank and he somehow either loses them or forgets to charge those too. And even if his phone is charged, he still doesn’t respond to it most of the time and leaves me on read because he’s a bitch. But I love him and still want him back. Allez savoir pourquoi!’” (Who knows why!)

You tap to the next slide.

“‘We’re on tour right now, and we’re in Santa Carla, the murder capital of the world! After our concert on the boardwalk, we met up with our old friends David, Paul, Marko, and Dwayne and rode on our Harley Davidson motorbikes, got a bite to eat, and hung out at their place. They had a lot of cool stuff in there, (I might have to steal that vintage bass guitar and Jim Morrison poster if I can’t sweet talk or bribe my way into getting them).’”

You tap to the next slide.

“‘Anyway, I don’t know what the fuck they spiked the blood with, but I started getting buzzed. Lestat was much worse. He was high off his ass. I got the munchies and I ate so much Chinese food and drank so much blood that I passed out. I don’t know what the fuck happened but, when I woke up, the six of us were in a Walmart, surrounded by dead bodies and blood. Lestat was crying, screaming, shitting and pissing himself, throwing up, and eating his own vomit. The boys were either bouncing off the walls or zoning out. By the time the boys and I stuffed the bodies in the supply closet, Lestat was gone and now we don’t know where the fuck he is. $500 reward to anyone who can find him and get him to answer his fucking phone.’”

~

“Exciting announcement! Though, I’m pretty sure most of you would have guessed this was coming. Lestat and I get a ton of DMs from people who want to ask us questions and watch and listen to us answer them on our Instagram page or YouTube channel, so we’ve created our own Reddit thread! This is where you can submit questions, ask us for advice, share crazy stories, etc.! Don’t forget to upvote/downvote other participants! Stoked to read and answer your submissions! Doo Doo Doo. Oh! Here's somebody who just sent in like ten questions. Okay, question number one: ‘Do vampires ever injure themselves with their teeth?’” You show the camera your bruised and punctured arm. “Can you see that? You know what happened? Right here? It’s recommended that vampires brush after every meal or at least once a day because blood, if not washed and brushed away properly, gets stuck in the teeth and causes very, very bad smells. And humans and vampires alike will know the vampires who don’t brush their teeth because their breath absolutely stinks. Especially the ones that are quite partial to the garlic-infused blood or the nicotine-infused blood, you know, the gross people. So I was brushing my teeth earlier this morning before going to bed and the toothbrush slipped out. Um…you know how they can sometimes kinda get your gum a little bit with your toothbrush? For whatever reason I went this way and just bit right into my…into my arm. It’s kind of a…”

“You think that’s bad, I’ve had vampires do that to my cock. Et ça pique.” (And that stings.)

“Oh my god.” You scroll down, looking for more questions. “Oh my god! Lestat, so you already answered question number two which is: ‘When vampires give head, see question above.’” You look into the camera. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Lestat is looking at your phone screen from over your shoulder. “Wow, who is this guy? You gotta come over here. You and I can sit down and I can tell you a couple things.” He winks.

“Ugh. Please. Okay, let’s just… So uh, the next question is… ‘Dear Mademoiselle Lioncourt, is vampire sex better than regular sex?’ Being a woman from an aristocratic family in 18th century France, I didn’t have the freedom to just have sex with people before marriage. I only had one experience when I was human, but it was only because I was like sixteen or seventeen and being a rebellious girl. I didn’t agree with how my virginity or purity or whatever was placed on such a high pedestal, like it was an important part of my identity to sell me off to a man. I wanted to lose it and be done with it, so I only had one sexual experience in my human life. It was with some random boy in the village. I think he was a year or two older than me, and he was cute from what I remember, but I can’t recall his name. It got the job done, I guess, but it had to be kept secret, so it was very brief, like five minutes or less, and he didn’t even make me come. Never did get married in my human life so it didn’t really matter in the long run, but I guess the upside is that now, as a vampire, my skin down there doesn’t grow back and I’m not a virgin every single time I do it… So, um… The short answer to your question would be…I wouldn’t know.”

“I’ll tell them. It’s very simple. If you’re a vampire, you have four holes…”

“Oh, Lestat! No! Lestat, no! Lalalalala…” you plug your ears.

“Well, you know, they should know about vampire sex. It can be very dangerous. It’s not like what they do in that False Blood show, you know what I mean? It’s really…it’s not always fast and quick. Sometimes it takes seventeen weeks to have proper sex with someone. Mais ça en valait la peine.” (But it was worth it.)

“Oh my god! Really?”

“Yes! Good tantric vampire sex, baby.”

“Seventeen weeks… Who wants that??”

“I was with Louis once in the ozarks…six and a half months.”

“I don’t know if… I don’t know if I’m more grossed out by the six and a half months or the ozarks.”

“Ozarks are great. People up there are nice, they taste good, they’re healthy. And no one can hear them when they scream because they’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s a win-win situation, tu vois.” (you see.)

“Oh my god.”

“I gotta teach you some things, little sister.”

“Wait. I got another one. A good question.”

“What?”

“‘Since vampires have so long to live, their families can get really big, right? So what’s the biggest vampire family?’” You take a second to think about it. “Kardashians?”

“Kardashians.”

“Oh, and this question sorta ties into the last question: ‘Why are vampires so wealthy? How do they make a living?’ Well, other vampires might tell you that the average vampire has minimal contact with humanity. When exposed, they feed or run or kill themselves. But for Lestat and I, we’ve always been attracted to le feu des projecteurs! (the spotlight!) The bottomless inheritance Magnus left Lestat certainly helped create a nice little nest egg for us, and yes, naturally we stole from anyone and everyone we killed and fed on, but we still wanted to work. In our human lives, we started off working as stagehands, then became actors, performing on the stage. We were attracted to singers, dancers, music, and the arts. And so we continued doing that even after our transformations. Put on a grand show for the humans and then feed on our human scene partners after curtain fall. We did that for, what was it, two years?”

“Two years, yes. And then we founded the Théâtre Des Vampires in Paris with Armand.”

“And that was a huge success. That was our cash cow and main source of income for a very long time. But by the 100th year or so, we were beyond bored. So we left the Theatre and moved on. Then we rediscovered our love for music after coming across a human rock band that called themselves Satan’s Night Out.”

“They were playing in dingy bars and underground venues, but they had potential. They were just missing something. They needed us. So I became the lead singer.”

“And I became the bassist.”

“We renamed ourselves to The Vampire Lestat, in honor of yours truly.”

“Mon frère est narcissique, que voulez-vous.” (My brother is narcissistic, what can we do.)

“And we became a worldwide success. Almost overnight, you could say. And the money kept flowing and still flows to this day. And I’d say we’re multi-millionaires. Not quite a billion. Pas encore.” (Not yet.)

“It’s not about how you start, it’s all about knowing how to save and make good financial decisions.”

“I mean, if you’ve been around for hundreds or thousands of years and are still broke, just step into the sun.”

“Lestat, s’il te plaît.” (please.)

“Vampirism poses the question: ‘What if there was a fundamental, horrible, unending well of want in your soul that, if truly satisfied, would lead to great pain for all those you hold closest and, in turn, their absolute and total revilement of you?’ and naturally, as a person with no problems, I don't relate to this in any way at all. I’m not Louis. ‘Immortality sucks because all your friends die’. All your friends die anyway. Those we do not mourn are those who mourn us. ‘Immortality sucks because you forget who you are.’ We always forget who we are. Do you remember who you were at four years of age? Who you were at fourteen? ‘Who I am’ is a shadow cast on the wall. ‘Immortality sucks because…’ skill issue, skill issue, skill issue. Shut up and suck it up or go visit a vampire therapist. Stop being so melodramatic. Fuck.”

~

“And let’s address the elephant in the room. Yeah, we were entirely responsible for the epic triumph and tragedy during the almost-apocalypse back in 1985, after we presented ourselves to the world through our autobiographies and formation of a rock band, singing vampire secrets. It was the wrong place and the wrong time to give a live rock concert. How were we to know our songs would awaken Akasha, the Queen of the Damned, from her sleep, right? Whoops. That was our B.”

“And it was our B when you drank from her and I drank from Enkil when Marius wasn’t looking. He turned his back on us for like twenty seconds and we immediately made bad decisions.”

“If God wanted us to make decisions, he wouldn’t have made us bisexual. I mean French.”

“I’m bisexual. You’re a bisexual disaster. ‘Oh, join me in my search for the ancient vampire Marius,’ you said. ‘It’ll be a fun learning experience for us,” you said. Je ne sais pas pourquoi je t’ai écouté et pourquoi je t’écoute encore.” (I don’t know why I listened to you and why I still listen to you.)

“And it was! Their blood made us strong, allowed us to learn more gifts.”

“I mean…you’re not entirely wrong. But I just feel stupid for giving in and going along with it. Not that it would’ve mattered. Knowing you, you would’ve gone anyway. And knowing Akasha, she would’ve inevitably killed her husband no matter what.”

“If you think about it, her killing her husband spared you from the wrath of her violently jealous ancient king.”

“Whatever. Stay on track and answer the question.”

“Right. She killed her husband then kidnapped me and made me her consort while she embarked on a mass killing of vampires, finding them by listening to their thoughts. She killed countless weak fledglings as part of enacting her horrible plan to take over the world. But the silver lining was that the sex was incredible. La meilleure amante de tous les temps.” (The best lover of all times.)

“Is that seriously your main takeaway from that whole ordeal? You and every other man on the planet, mortal and immortal, would’ve died. So many of us almost did.”

“No, I don’t think Akasha would’ve killed me. She planned to kill only 90 percent of the world's human men, and to establish a new Eden in which women would worship her as a goddess. I probably would’ve been part of the lucky 10 percent. She saw the desirability of me as her consort.”

“Tu délires! (You’re delusional!) Did you not hear what I said? She literally drained her own husband of all of his blood to make herself the single progenitor of the vampire race and to be rid of him. She literally grew bored of the husband and consort she had for millennia. She definitely would’ve killed you as soon as she got bored.”

“Are you calling me boring, Sister? Oh, how you wound me. What can I say? Akasha just wanted to dominate and be worshiped, and have everyone obey her, no matter how many lives were lost. I loved her completely but did not fundamentally agree with her morality. I just didn’t vibe with her plans to be the new god of the world. Neither did you or any of the others.”

“No, we didn’t. We all refused to partake in Akasha's plan despite her vow to destroy all of us if we didn’t comply.”

“We were all duplicit in the destruction of Akasha, which led to her demise.”

“Her plan was so fucking dumb. It was insane. I mean, come on. She wanted us to be her followers as ‘angels’ in her New World Order. Et je suis une sainte, pas un ange.” (And I’m a saint, not an angel.)

“Yeah, that was fucking dumb. Oh, someone sent a question in the chat: ‘How many of you were there before Akasha woke up again and how many survived?’ I’m not sure the exact number of how many vampires there have been since Akasha went on her murder spree, but I wanna say, including us, around…twenty…vampires managed to survive her onslaught? Does that sound right?”

You and Lestat began to count on your fingers. “Well, let’s see. There were the twins Maharet and Mekare, me, you, Louis, our mother Gabrielle, Armand, Marius… Yeah, I think that’s right.“

“They were all either vampires that Lestat and I loved, old ones Akasha could not kill easily, or those she could not detect because they blocked their thoughts from her. Oh, another question: ‘If Akasha is dead, why aren’t all vampires dead too?’ Just before she could destroy us all, Mekare, whom no one has seen for 6,000 years, suddenly appeared in the room and charged at Akasha, shoving her into a glass wall, causing a large shard to decapitate her. Just as doom was spelled out for all vampires, Mekare came in clutch when she devoured both the brain and heart of Akasha, taking into herself the Sacred Core which contains the spirit of Amel. Successfully bonding with the Sacred Core, Mekare became the new queen of all vampires, while Akasha's body became a transparent shell. That whole adventure forced Lestat to do something so absurd it’s unspeakable, but I’m going to say it anyway. He had to…think of things and people other than himself for one of the first times in his long life. Je sais, je sais! (I know, I know!) I’m just as shocked as you are, viewers!”

“Je te déteste.” (I hate you.)

“The adventure changed him forever, forced him to begin fighting for a kind of redemption—though, as you can see, Lestat has remained his old, devilish self, reveling in his identity as the Brat Prince.”

~

“So we are gonna answer some more questions. ‘Are you related to any famous vampires and if not, have you met any?’

“Well, we are related to Marie-Madeleine Pinochet de La Vergne, Comtesse de La Fayette. We’re distant cousins or something. Her husband, François Motier, comte de La Fayette, disappeared from her life after the birth of their two sons and it was long supposed that he died about 1660. He ‘disappeared’ because she’s a vampire and she killed him when she fed on him.”

“That’s true and actually we just got online. We just got into ancestry.com. And we were looking back um, at a bunch of different uh… Comment on dit déjà?” (What’s the word again?)”

“It’s all gynecology.”

“No, it’s not.”

“We went on gynecology and tried to see where our family was from.”

“No, we didn’t. Lestat, s’il te plaît, tais-toi.” (please, shut up.)

“It’s a gynecological chart.”

“It’s not. It’s called genealogy.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Nope.”

“Gynecological.”

“Nope. That is— I know it’s a big word for you. Guys, Lestat, until just recently, didn't know what dialysis is. He thought it was a type of rotary phone or radio.”

“Can you tell me what a gynecologist is? I know that’s a word.”

“That’s a lady doctor, Lestat.”

“Who’s a lady doctor?”

“A gynecologist.”

“There’s lady doctors? What for?”

“All right. Fair enough. We’re on the gynecological website called ancestry.com and we were looking through our relatives and it turns out we are related to royalty. Just so you know. William the conqueror. Clovis the First. Charlemagne. Uh we go right back up to Edward the First. You know the Longshanks, the Plantagenets.”

“Lillian Russell. She was hot. On aurait dû en faire un vampire.” (We should have made her a vampire.)

~

“C’est quoi?” (What is that?)

“This new site. Getfanged.com. It’s like a social networking thing for vampires.”

“What is social networking? What - Do you become friends with them and then what? They talk to you?”

“Yeah… They’ll talk to you, but…”

“And they come to the house?”

“Oh, look at this guy. This guy looks delicious…”

“Ohhh, takeout, baby! I’m telling you, delivery! Does it give blood type?”

“No, Lestat, no! It’s like Facebook.”

“I don’t get that visage book, too many people tell me things I don’t care about.”

You laugh.

“You know? ‘I’m gonna go to the store with Kara to get eggs!’ I’m gonna make a fake account posing as a human and start saying I’m gonna go buy over the counter medication, I’m gonna go buy tampons… Maybe I can wolffish people.”

“Do you mean catfish? Lestat, don’t do that. Et pourquoi irais-tu acheter des tampons??” (And why would you go buy tampons??)

“Why not? It’d be fun. How come you won’t be my friend on Facebook anyway? I keep poking you and you won’t poke back.”

“Lestat, I can’t get onto Facebook and then friend my brother. I’m not even friends with Gabrielle.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s our mother.”

“So? I’m friends with her. You should friend her and me.”

“But we’re family…”

“So what if we’re family?”

“I don’t want you or her looking on my page.”

“Why not? We’re just like everybody else! We’re cool, we’re hip! Look, I got this new leather jacket! Huh? Guy that was wearing it was delicious. So you’re gonna join this thing or what?”

“Ummmm…. I don’t know, yeah, I was thinking about it.”

“Any sexy broads on here? Maybe I can send them to Gabrielle to try. Je suis sûr qu’elle serait intéressée.” (I’m sure she would be interested.)

“Lestat!”

“You know, get a little naked…”

“Hello?! Lestat!”

“What?! You’re old enough now!”

“That’s our mother you’re talking about!”

“I know she is! And she had eight pregnancies, meaning at least eight separate occasions on which she never got to orgasm. Our father is long dead so she’s free to…what does the internet call it? Swear off men and have sex with butch lesbians? Live her immortal life in her girlboss era?”

“Lestat! Please shut up! I’m gonna go back to answering questions. So, ‘Dear Mademoiselle Lioncourt, how is your whole family— How-how are your whole— How is your whole family vampires?’ I don’t know what is grammatically correct there. But anyway. ‘How is your whole family vampires and what do you mean it’s ‘hereditary?’” You use air quotes on the last word. “Umm, so it’s not my whole family that’s vampires, it’s just Lestat and Gabrielle, the people I love and care about. Our father, our older brothers, our sister-in-laws and nieces and nephews… Everyone else is dead. Vraiment morts, Dieu merci. (Truly dead, thank god.) By hereditary, I mean it’s…hereditary. Magnus was a vampire who fed Lestat his blood and made him into a vampire, who in turn fed Gabrielle and I his blood, making us into vampires. Easy peasy fucking sleazy. Humans and vampires can actually have kids too. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean like, you know, so Lestat, you… Can I share this online?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Tell them. I have no shame about it.”

“Okay. So Lestat has a biological son, Viktor. He was created during the mid-90’s, we think. We can’t be sure of his exact date of birth.”

“I had encountered some vampire doctors or scientists. Vampires that were trained in and interested in the study of vampirism, running a lab for it and all these experiments.”

“They collected a biological sample—”

“Sperm. They collected a sperm sample from me with my full compliance. I didn’t even know I still had sperm, to be honest. HOWEVER, without my consent or knowledge, they used my sample to make Viktor! Like a test-tube baby. This baby had a mortal mother, but my DNA. Presumably the DNA needed a little tinkering to make it work.”

“We didn’t learn about his existence until he was like at least 20 years old or appeared to physically look 20 years old. He’s like a carbon copy of Lestat, just slightly taller. It’s kinda freaky. So technically Viktor is considered partially a clone of Lestat. It’s such a complicated situation. They tried to use him as some sort of pawn to shake up the vampiric matriarchy or something. But father and son got reunited, I got to meet my nephew, everyone was happy. But in general, it’s never a good idea for a vampire to marry or reproduce with a non-vampire, just FYI. It’s kind of like if you married a hamburger. I mean, maybe you can hold off for a while, but eventually…you’re gonna eat the hamburger. Right? So Lestat, what happened to Viktor’s mother?”

“I ate her.”

“Exactly. Need I say more?”

“I ate the fuck out of her. And I liked it.”

“Right. The other way to become a vampire obviously is to convert. Um. But it’s a lot of time that you gotta put into converting. Right? It takes forever.”

“Yeah. Tons of years.”

“Yeah. It’s like at least three years or something like that. Something crazy. Because you have to watch them and research them extensively first.”

“You almost become a doctor in a way, you know?”

“Yeah, and there’s so much more book work to it, you have no idea! It’s like Driver’s Ed but like—”

Lestat holds up a finger. “That being said, we love a convert.”

“Yes, we— yes. We love a convert.”

“Yeah, exactly, because, if you choose to be a vampire, I mean, that’s, you know, that’s a big deal. Right? There’s not that many of us. You know? Huge.”

“Huge.”

“So, you know, if you become a vampire, then um, you know you have a big vampire party and all of your new vampire friends bring you presents and stuff, it’s great! It’s like a baby shower!”

“You bring in, you know, a person of your choosing, usually a young man or young woman—”

“Mhm.”

“Put them down on the table—“

“Mhm.”

“They’re alive, everyone gathers around, you know, almost like what humans do with birthday cakes.”

“Yeah!”

“And we sit there and we sing like, ‘For you’re gonna be a vampire, for you’re gonna be a vampire, for you’re gonna be a vampire, now bite this fucking neck!’ And then you kill a person.”

“Right.”

“It’s wonderful!”

You and Lestat sing simultaneously, “You’re gonna be a vampire, you’re gonna be vampire, now bite this fucking neck!’”

“And that’s it! So it’s a bunch of book work and then uh, you know, you ‘blow out your candles’ and you’re a vampire! The most recent party we threw for a convert was for Rose, Viktor’s wife. They ended up getting close to each other and marrying, but they knew about the hamburger allegory, so they did the smart thing by having Rose drink blood from Marius and Pandora, and ultimately her transformation into a vampire was completed by us. But, fun fact, Rose is actually Lestat’s adoptive daughter. C’est dingue comme les familles, c’est toujours compliqué.” (It’s crazy how families, it’s always complicated.)

“Now hold on, hold on, before you guys all get in the comments, relax. It’s not incest. She and Viktor are not blood related and never grew up in the same house together or anything like that. Let me make a small correction: I was never actually her father, I was more of a father figure. Her parents died and she called me ‘Uncle Lestan.’ This isn’t 1612 and we aren’t the Hapsburgs of Spain!”

“It was hard to find a card for the occasion, though. They don’t really have any at grocery stores or at vampire stores.”

“Just another way The Man is holding the vampire down. It’s rude, actually!”

“It is rude! I mean, we’re here!”

“We’re queer! I mean, we’re vampires! Get used to it!”

~

“Hello. So you might be wondering why I look a little more rosy cheeked today. Uh, it’s because I am sick. I have, I guess, what you call blood poisoning. Um, I've been throwing up for three days. Lestat is sick too. As of now I’m doing the best I can. Feeding from blood bags I snagged from the hospital. Louis is here too, and he’s feeding Lestat some human blood. Thank god. It’s nice to see you’re actually taking care of yourself, mon frère. (brother) Louis is still on animal blood. He feasts on humans every other night. It's his way, but he came to take care of us. So sweet of him. So essentially what happened is a couple days ago we had some Brazilians. And it didn’t go down very well.”

“Wait a minute are you saying…what are you talking about? What are you saying Brazilians?”

“I’m saying that a couple days ago we had Brazilians and we both got sick. As-tu de la fièvre, Lestat?” (Do you have fever, Lestat?)

“That guy didn’t get me sick. I’m talking about my Brazilian wax. I can barely move.”

“What!?” You and Louis exclaim at the same time.

“Yes, it hurts like a bitch!”

“Lestat! You got waxed?”

“Yeah, I got a Brazilian wax!”

“Why?!” You and Louis ask.

“I don’t know, I thought it’d be nice.”

“Oh my god, Lestat.”

“It’s like a little landing strip right above my penis.”

“Lestat! Lestat! Je ne veux pas savoir. (I don’t want to know). But also…”

“What? What?”

“Guys don’t get waxed!”

“Yes, they do! This is 2024, Sister! Not 1794. People do things now. Oh, Louis, while you’re up, get me that Preparation H so I can put that on my dick.”

“No, no! Lestat, don’t do that!”

“Icy hot. Icy hot. Louis, get me an icy hot!”

You can hear every word as Lestat talks to his own dIck in French. You cringe so hard both on the inside and the outside. You want to die.

“Tu sais ce qu’on dit en Français? Il faut souffrir pour être beau. C’était plutôt pour les femmes, mais… le principal c’est de se faire un max de mecs, donc j’imagine que nous aussi on doit souffrir. C’est juste un mauvais moment à passer, t’inquiète, ensuite ce sera du pur plaisir pour nous deux.” (Do you know what we say in French? You have to suffer to be pretty. It was more for women… but the essential is to get the most guys as possible, so I imagine we also need to suffer. It’s just some bad time to get away with, don’t worry, then it will only be pure pleasure for the two of us.)

“Just sit there, please! I can’t take care of you and be this sick at the same time!”

“Sister.”

“What?”

“Get me some more blood.”

“No!”

“I just can’t move. And Louis is busy getting the Preparation H.”

“Then get your ass up and get it yourself! You know what we also say in French: sois un homme!” (be a man!)

~

“Hey guys! I know that Lestat and I said that we weren’t going to make any videos for a while due to how busy we are, but we got some fun announcements to make, so we’re making another video! So suck it! Here we are! Wow! Je ne tiens même plus en place, tellement je suis excitée!!” (I can’t even stay still, I’m just too excited!!) That was the craziest merch launch ever! But have no fear! After selling out in twenty minutes, you’ll still be able to place an order! You can now preorder the newest collection of makeup and beauty products from our brand, Bloodlust! We’ve collabed with Vamypre Cosmetics for this new collection and I’m so excited for when you guys receive and wear your makeup from the recent launch! Some of you are already wearing your merch and makeup from past tours and launches! I love seeing all the photos. Don’t forget to tag me on Instagram! I love reposting! If you’ve attended any shows on this tour, be sure to get both our newest limited edition t-shirts, hoodies, and other apparel from this tour, available only at the venues because once it’s gone, it’s gone! You’ve also heard us perform some of the new songs on our upcoming album! Just a reminder that if you haven’t placed an order, now is the time to preorder a personalized autographed copy of our newest album from Lestat and I! Preorders are only open for one week. That’s right, you have one week to place your orders starting today! You should receive your pre orders for makeup and personalized autographed albums in a few weeks! Thank you for all the support on this drop, I’m so overwhelmed and grateful you love the pieces!”

You yawn mid-sentence.

“Sorry, I’m still a little groggy. Um, I just woke up from a nap and with our new makeup collection dropping, it suddenly struck me. You know, I get a lot of comments and emails from people asking me like uh, ‘wow you look really pretty!’ and that’s really nice and everything but I just want to let you guys know that I’m just like everybody else and when I get up in the morning, I mean, my hair is a mess and…”

“What are you talking about? Non, mais franchement…” (No, like seriously.) Lestat asks in the background from his spot on the chaise lounge chair.

“I’m just explaining to them like…that even vampires like, get up from a nap or something and they uh, they look like everybody else. You know what I mean? Like we don’t like feel like we shoot up out of bed—”

“So what are you saying? You just got up from a nap and look like everybody else?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re wearing makeup, Sister.”

“No. Lestat! No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. And you painted your nails again. Nice color, though. And I like the nail art you did.”

“Lestat.”

“Eyeshadow, blush… are those crescent moons and constellations on your nails? Very cute. Very you.”

“Lestat! You know that I was born like this.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, you were born with makeup on and painted nails. Yeah. Tell you what, when you came out of Gabrielle’s vagina…”

“LESTAT! I was born like this. I was…this is just the way I look.”

“No, you weren’t. Mon dieu, ma soeur est en train de devenir folle. (My god, my sister is losing her mind.) You know what you looked like?”

“What?”

“First of all this is what the vagina looks like… Et oui, j’aurais préféré ne pas savoir à quoi ressemble le vagina de ma propre mère.” (And yes, I would have much preferred to not know what my own mother’s vagina looks like.)

“No, Lestat! Come on!”

“And then you popped out.”

“With makeup! With makeup!”

“Yeah, with makeup! Yeah, blood—” the sound of your dog barking interrupts him. “Mojo…”

“You’ve upset the dog.”

“Talking about when my sister was born. All right. Calm down. Good boy.” He pats your dog on the head before going back to the question. “You had like blood on you, you had all this like mushy white stuff, it was disgusting. And Gabrielle still had most of her after birth up in there and, when it came out, the dogs tried to eat it…”

“…we’re just like everybody else.” You force a smile to hide your grimace as you go to end the video. “Lestat, tu as de la chance d’être déjà mort…” (Lestat, you’re lucky you’re already dead…)

--

“Oh, here’s a good question: ‘Do you ever miss walking in the sun?’ The night of my transformation… I was just sitting, doing nothing, and Lestat came floating in and over to me, and I recognized him. Never for a moment did I believe he was dead and when I saw his eyes - those blue eyes I had seen all my life, the same, but different - It was wonderful. He didn’t have to tell me. I knew what he was. And then he gave me the choice he never had. And I said yes. Comment n’aurais-je pas pu lui dire oui.” (How could I have not said yes to him.)

“That's right. I bit you on the neck and fed you my blood.”

“That's right. Do I miss the sun? I did at first - but then I realized these shadows, this darkness - it’s all part of me. I spent too long defined by what other people did to me. The choices other people made for me - but that’s over now. This is who I am, in all my glory, for better and for worse. That being said, I haven’t completely given up on returning to the sun. Once a vampire reaches a certain age, they build up an immunity to UV light. Most vampires have to reach their 1,000th year, but I have heard stories of younger vampires developing this immunity after drinking the blood of an ancient. I drank Enkil’s blood and I happen to know a few ancient vampires myself, so if the opportunity presented itself again - well, I wouldn’t say no. But until then, I am happy.”

“Est-ce parce que je suis ton soleil, ma soeur?” (Is it because I am your sun, sister?)

“Whatever, Lestat. ‘Can you drink the blood of animals? Have you ever thought of it? Would you even consider it?’ The answer to that question is…”

“What are we, fucking monsters?”

“Have you seen our dog?”

“He’s adorable! Mojo, show the audience how cute you are!”

“We have a great affinity for animals. Mojo here, like other dogs we’ve encountered, doesn’t try to bite or attack us on sight. That’s another vampire myth. So sorry to say, but your pets won’t protect you from our kind. C’mon! We met this guy as vampires and he wasn’t scared of us at all! He let us pet his head and he reminded us so much of the mastiffs we used to have that he really made us happy again. You think we would eat this dog?”

“Maybe if we didn’t have access to human blood and we were like the Donner Party and had to eat something. Maybe then Mojo would start to look really, really good. We can only suck ourselves for so long—”

“Ugh!”

“Well, not that way! You know what I mean! You bite down on your own arm and you know, you can get away with things by just—” Lestat pretends to bite down on his forearm. “But, as a vampire, drinking your own blood is toxic and just makes you really sick! And you’re losing blood too! It’s dry, dry, dry! Look at Mojo! Look at him! This is our bébé!” (baby!) Lestat pets and kisses Mojo’s head and scratches behind his ears.

“Mojo is the goodest of good boys! He’s just a giant softie! What’s wrong with you people?”

“Crazy! He is a purebred! He smells good though.”

“Yes, he does. Not like you…”

“Are you saying I need a bath?”

“Well, Mojo already got his, and I just took a shower yesterday, so it can’t be him or I stinking up the room…”

“Stink!? I’ll have you know my bath and beauty products are the best smelling things to ever grace this earth.”

“Guys, did you know Lestat never has less than 17 bottles of various products on the table beside his bathtub or shower at any given time?”

“You’re just envious because the combined scents of my body wash, shampoo, conditioner, cologne and natural musk are so irresistible that they’re attracting all the humans and vampires to me and not you.”

You roll your eyes.

Lestat gives Mojo belly rubs. “We really should get Mojo a friend. I feel bad having to leave him whenever we’re on tour or need to hunt. Maybe another Mastiff or a St. Bernard… Would you like that, Mo? Do you want a friend? Bien sûr, que tu as besoin d’un nouveau copain!” (Of course you need a new buddy!)

~

You and Lestat are watching What We Do In The Shadows, the popular vlog series that stars your friends over in Staten Island.

“Awww, look! Nandor made a new friend!”

“Is that John Goodman?”

“Lestat, it’s obviously Patton Oswalt.”

“Who’s Patton Oswalt?”

“Lestat, have you seen Ratouille?”

“I know what ratatouille pasta looks like, yeah.”

“No, like the movie. It was animated. He voiced a rat.”

“…Do I look like someone who watches cartoons? I prefer live action.”

“Lestat, it was Patton Oswalt and Peter O’ Toole, it was one of the most iconic movies—”

“I know Peter O’ Toole, but who the hell is Patton Oswalt?! Who’s that?”

“That’s Patton Oswalt.” You point at the screen.

“That’s not John Goodman?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t John Goodman do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why is Nandor doing this?”

“The documentary series? Same reason we are, I suspect.”

“No, I mean trying to get a rebound for his human lover.”

“They’re not lovers. Guillermo is his familiar.”

“Mhm. That’s how it starts. Maybe that is John Goodman but older and older he looks like Patton Oswalt.”

“Oh.”

“What are they talking about? Are they making fun of vampires? You know, our people… ça craint quand même…” (it sucks though)

“Oh, they’re really high up. I don’t know about this...”

“We have to go through so much shit. Oh, Look at that.”

You and Lestat simultaneously let out a loud gasp large enough to suck in half of Earth’s oxygen when Nandor accidentally throws Patton Oswalt off the building to his death. His blood pours out from his head.

“Ohhh!!” You start fanning yourself.

“Oh, that was good.”

“Um, that’s really… I’m so hungry.”

“He’s dead. A shame, all that juicy blood gone to waste.”

“Wow.”

“Do we have any more Texan left?” You ask, before you laugh and point, “Nadja and Laszlo are fucking the humans next door!“

Lestat laughs, “Man, those two could fuck. I miss them. We should visit, make a cameo in one of the future episodes. I’m sure they wouldn’t say no to a foursome or an orgy.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll call them later. But we should try to behave ourselves on camera. Back to the questions. People write in all the time and they say, ‘what can you eat? What do vampires eat?’ And um so I just wanna completely sum this up for everybody. So here is the vampire food pyramid. Here’s what we’ve got here, so we got human blood, human blood, human blood, carbs. So that’s three servings of human blood and one serving of carbs per day. Louis for a really long time was just eating the carbs but recently we took a trip to Romania and Lestat and I totally got on him and we were like, ‘Look, we want you to live to see 1,000.’ I am proud to say… Look at the former rat-eater.” You show a professionally shot photo of Louis.

“Yes, yes, thank you very much. Louis started eating more Californians. You know, it’s very healthy. They got more tofu in them. More beans, more rice, more vegetables, more fruit. He used to like to go to Texas and eat people from there because they’re juicy and they’re big. Parce que le gras, c’est la vie!” (Because fat food is life!)

“Right. And they got that sauce.”

“Delicious. Put a nice barbecue sauce on a nice Texan.”

“Sure.”

“But the problem is they’re very high in fat so now the three of us are starting to eat people out here in California while we play our shows. Being rockstars has its perks, doesn’t it, Sister?”

“It’s smart, it’s really smart. Mais après tout, nous sommes intelligents.” (But after all, we’re smart.)

“I think we all look really good. Especially Louis.”

“Yeah. I mean, look at him! He looks great.”

“It’s unbelievable, huh? I like it.”

Lestat goes to the fridge and pulls out the leftovers. Australian, Englishman, Canadian, and…

“Oh! There is Texan!” You clap excitedly as Lestat brings it over.

“Yup! Told you we had some! Mmhmm. This is from a 38-year-old Texan. He had a lot of barbecue sauce in him before he died, you know what I mean? Mmm.”

“It’s spicy.”

“Let’s go out and get something fresh. We can show the viewers how we hunt. And then we’ll go back to watching and talking about weird vampire shows.”

“Okay.”

“And then I’m gonna go fuck Louis.”

“Euugh! He just does it to get under my skin!”

“I’m fucking the shit out of him. Tous. Les. Soirs.” (Every. Night.)

“OKAY! Why does it always come down to this? I try to get on my vlog and tell people how proud of you I am and the next thing out of your mouth is, ‘I’m fucking Louis’. I know you’re fucking Louis. You’ve been fucking Louis for a really long time. I don’t wanna hear it anymore. Je vous entends suffisamment comme ça la nuit…” (I hear enough of you at night.) You sigh exasperatingly. “We’re gonna go grab a bite. Be right back, guys.”

~

“So, a lot of you guys wanted to know about how we um…how we hunt. So we’re out here in this cheap hotel because it’s probably the easiest place to find people to eat. It’s full of criminals and uh, drug addicts and…we frequently hunt evildoers instead of feeding from innocent victims, but we don’t always abide by this rule because…yeah, once people come here, they don’t really go home so it doesn’t really matter. Um… God, this hat.” You swat the floppy flaps of the hat up and away from your face.

“It’s called a sun hat. It’s not the best, but it’ll protect you from the sun and it looks good on you, little sister.”

“But you’re not wearing a hat! Pourquoi dois-je en porter un??” (Why should I wear one??)

“It’d ruin my lovely golden hair. And it’s your turn to bring home dinner.”

You roll your eyes. “Anyway. Hmm. Shall we hunt?”

“What are we hunting for, ma chère?”

“What are we hungry for, Lestat?”

“Hmm. The pick of the city. The pick, pick, pick of it. A couple, an illicit couple, out for a cheat. His wife and her husband nodding off in their ignorant beds. Hmm. Drain them in heat. Let their children answer a knock at the door. A pale-faced policeman, a ride to the morgue.”

“Yeah, all that. Have a seat. Oh, here’s…okay, people are coming. Here we go. Oh… they’re the blood muffins…they’re the blood muffin girls. So we can’t eat them.”

“What are you talking about? What are blood muffins?”

“Long story. I was experimenting.”

“Hi! How are you? Do I know you from somewhere?” One of the girls asks, using her hand as a makeshift visor so she can see you.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I…”

“Are you part of the crew?”

“Oh…holy crap! So you guys are…really um… oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m really, really hungry.”

“You guys should come with us! We’re gonna go eat! God, it’s so hot today. Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?”

“Yeah, I kinda wanna eat your neck.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing! You guys go ahead. You go ahead and eat.”

“Well, you both can come over and join us.”

“Okay. Yeah, maybe we will in a minute. But you guys go ahead.”

“Bye!”

“Bye! My brother made me wear this floppy hat!”

“It’s good, I like it!”

“Okay.”

“It looks good on you!”

You and Lestat look at each other for a moment.

“…Okay, I’m gonna bite! Just a little! I’m just gonna eat them a little bit! Just a little bit!” You say, pinching you thumb and pointer finger close together before running after the girls as they scream.

Lestat sighs, but he smiles too. “The wilderness that is my sister. C’est pourquoi je l’aime.” (That’s why I love her.)

~

“So update about that girl whose neck I bit in the last video. She accepted my apology and she sent me a thank you note, which is fucking awesome.”

“I told you to get dinner, but that you couldn’t kill her because I wanted to watch the show she was gonna star in. You kill her, we can’t watch the show together. I wanna have a brother-sister moment!”

“Yeah. Lestat—”

“All right? I wanna have a fucking brother-sister moment! Est-ce que c’est trop te demander?!” (Is it too much to ask you?!)”

“I wasn’t gonna kill her, Lestat! I just got excited! It’s kind of embarrassing!”

“You bite somebody’s neck, you better be going in for the kill, honey! We talked about this before!”

“Listen! All right, I’m already embarrassed about this enough, okay? All right?”

“Good! Glad you are!”

“There’s nothing you can do to make me feel worse than I already do about it.”

“You don’t think so?”

“…no. What are you gonna do? Lestat, putain, je te jure que si tu fais une dinguerie…” (Lestat, fuck, I swear if you do something crazy…)

Lestat pulls down his pants and underwear.

“LESTAT!!” You quickly cover the camera with your hands before the audience can see much, if anything.

“How’s that? Make you feel worse?”

“I’m gonna show people.”

“Hey! Show away! Maybe I’ll even start an OnlyFangs. Huh? You screw up again like that, I’m gonna run around the street naked.”

“Lestat, you’re so embarrassing. Il a vraiment fallu que tu sois mon frère… Dieu doit me détester.” (You really had to be my brother… God must hate me.)

“And it won’t be like that time I did it for fun in the village.”

“Do you see how I have to live?! I’m a vampire, my brother flashes people… wait, Lestat…did you hook up the computer to the TV?”

“I paid a guy to do it.”

“What?! You did? How much did you pay him?”

“$100.”

“Well, I can hook up your iPod. The one that you never took out of the box.”

“You can?!”

“Mhm.”

“And then you can help me download! I wanna get that song with that really good country singer who sings that song about love for Louis. You know what I’m talking about? LOOK THEY'RE KISSING!” He points at the tv screen. “Look! Look, Sister! How romantic is that? Huh? Two vampires kissing?”

“It’s not…”

“Show the world that we’re just like everybody else, hm?”

“Anyway…”

“And you know what, Sister, they should start making movies and television shows about vampires. That’s what they should start doing. They got all this popstar and reality tv shit out there. Vampires, I’m telling you, that’s where it’s gonna be!”

“Well, Lestat, you are one step ahead of everybody as usual.”

“Oooh!! Faith Hill! That’s it!! That’s who I wanna download! The one who’s married to Keith Urban!!”

“Who’s not married to Keith Urban…” You facepalm.

~

“I can’t sleep. Um. Yes! We sleep. I mean, we don’t have to, I guess, technically, but… um, we really like to nap. Napping’s pretty big with vampires. I mean, who doesn’t like a nap, really? Right? I’m getting a lot of questions about um, about um, Buff...erm. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. God, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. Ummm. And people have been sort of writing in and going ‘what do you think about… Buffy… and um… I could do a whole vlog about um, you know, how tough I am compared to Buffy and - and how I could kick her ass and all that stuff but the truth is that uh…I am terrified of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And I know what you’re thinking, I know she’s not real, right? I know. I know she’s not real. I get that, right? But there’s this whole television show dedicated to this girl who finds vampires and stakes them until they die. If I was just laying here, minding my own business, and some girl showed up in a cheerleader outfit and ripped my undead heart out of my body and it was legal… huh? It’s just so irresponsible. It’s just so irresponsible that there’s this show about killing an entire race of beings and it’s totally fine, right? Are you listening, WB? Right? Because I hope, I really hope that Paramount buys you out. I hope that Paramount slays you! I mean, she kills vampires right in front of the rest of the school! It’s like my ultimate nightmare. It’s like a cheerleader with a - with a stake kills me in front of her hot friend!”

Lestat stands in the doorway to your bedroom, wearing his silk pajamas and a robe. “Sister.”

“What?”

“What are you doing? It’s 3AM. I was napping.”

“Lestat, I had the Buffy dream again.”

He lets out a long groan of annoyance. “Ugh. Jesus Christ. Are you serious? We’ve been over this a million times, okay? I checked your closet, there isn’t a vampire slayer. I went under your bed, there isn’t a vampire slayer. There aren't any vampire slayers, okay? Look it up!”

“Lestat! How do you know that, though? You don’t know that for sure. Elle peut apparaître et décider de nous tuer, juste parce qu’on est des vampires! Je suis sûre qu’elle nous écoute en ce moment même! Alors comment peux-tu être certain qu’elle n’est pas là?!” (She can appear and decide to kill us, just because we’re vampires! I’m sure she is listening to us right now! So how can you be so sure she isn’t there?!)

“Because the last vampire slayer was killed in 1872, okay? He was eaten by a werewolf!”

“What? Oh fuck, werewolves? I hadn’t even thought about werewolves! Jesus Christ, I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Take a nap. Let’s go. I’m gonna go fuck Louis.”

“Ohhh my god!”

~

“Okay, so True Blood. We’ll talk about True Blood. God, that show is so fucking funny!”

“It’s hysterical! It’s one of the best comedies ever created.”

“It is! So funny! It’s so funny! Have you guys seen that show?!” Your voice becomes so high from laughter. “It’s so funny! They get everything wrong!”

“That one guy! He’s a dog!”

“I know!”

“He’s like you, Mojo! ‘Hey, Sam! How are you, Sam?’”

“He turns into a dog!”

“This is True Blood?”

“Oh god! So where, um, Jason gets addicted to vampire blood?”

“No, that was later on! This…”

You’re flailing and struggling to speak through your laughter. “Okay, wait, you guys! You can’t get addicted to vampire blood, whatever you do, because the only thing vampire blood does is give you diarrhea. Et oui, pas très sexy!” (Yes, not super sexy!)

“It gives you the shits!”

“That’s it! It’s like a freaking laxative. Louis made up that whole La Petite Mort thing for Daniel’s book. You do NOT—”

“What about your friend? Your friend came over - what was her name?”

“Charlotte. Charlie.”

“She comes over and this one here gives her a little bit of her blood. Even a little bit is the worst thing in the world to a human that hasn’t been bitten first.”

“It - it was - it was like a pinprick. I—”

“Oh. That girl was like a shit factory. She just…” Lestat makes fart noises with his mouth.

“It was awful!”

“It was horrible! It was not fun. I called her Shartlotte as a joke and she was not happy. She didn’t know what was going on, she was very grossed out, so were we. I had to take her to the emergency room.”

“It was awful and, Charlie, I’m sorry. Wait, Lestat, was it - was that - this is something I do wanna talk about - you know how like, Bill like, oh my god, every episode you see him, you see him in his house, he lifts that little latch up and he goes down and he sleeps in a coffin? What an asshole. Jesus. This show was made in 2008? What? We don’t need to sleep in coffins all the time anymore.” You have to fan yourself from how hard you’re laughing.

“There’s a lot of sex on it.”

“That’s true.”

~

“All right, anyway, being a mortal in a vampire world is tough, but being a vampire in a mortal world…blegh! ‘Dear Mademoiselle Lioncourt, I was just curious what you thought about the Twilight movie.” Um. Okay. Don’t get me fucking started on the Twilight movie. All right, get me started on the twilight movie. Did you fucking read those books? Um. I read those books. I read them in like twelve hours. All of them. I mean it was like literary crack but, besides that, it’s complete bullshit. All right. Where is this house in Oregon with all of these hot fucking vampires living in the same place with their hot ass fucking parents? They’re rich and they’re hot and I don’t know any of them. Fuck. Okay. And last but not least, the one thing that they almost got right in Twilight, they still got so wrong. Okay, you know the part where when vampires go out into the sun ummm, they sparkle like a million diamonds? Yeah, you wanna see what happens when I go out into the sun? Yeah, I’ll show you. This is… it’s not diamonds, I’ll tell you that much. I’ll show you outside in the sunlight.”

“Ahhh! Oh my god!!! Oh!! Oh my god!!!”

“I break out. Bad.”

“Ohh!!! The acne scarring!! Ahhh!!”

“Okay! It’s really bad. So Twilight - go fuck your mother. All right, I gotta go back in. Eternal life sucks balls. Sometimes I just wish, you know, I could be like the other girls like, I just wanna eat pizza and dish out blowjobs just like everybody else. I don’t know.” You scream when Lestat scares the ever living shit out of you by coming up at you from behind with cheap plastic vampire teeth.

“I want to suck your blood!” He says in a bad Bela Lugosi voice.

“Lestat, get off! Tu es tellement stupide!” (You’re so stupid!)

“Oh, come on. You’re 256 years old. Grow up.”

“Get out.”

“Do we have any more blood infused with French wine?”

“Oh, great. I’m a vampire and my brother’s an alcoholic. I’m totally fucked. And not in a nice way.”

~

“Um, hey Lestat…”

“What?”

“Hey, Les…”

“What? I’m trying to write!”

“Okay! Is it okay with you if I invite my boyfriend over?”

“No, Sister, no.”

“Lestat, c’mon, please! He’s the only other vampire I’ve ever met that isn’t a total dick, all right? And-and he’s really cute and I really, really like him a lot! Les, don’t make me cry! Pourquoi faut-il que tu sois si méchant avec moi, tout le temps?” (Why do you need to be so mean to me all the time?)

“Okay, fine! All right, fine! But listen to me! Do not cry and do not bring him into your bedroom and tell him you’re gonna listen to albums, okay? Because I know what that’s code for. I’m not an idiot.”

“What’s that code for?”

“Please! It means he’s gonna give you the stink finger!”

“Lestat!”

“There will be no stink fingers in this house!”

“Ugh!!”

“The only stink finger I want is mine!”

“Ewwww!! I don’t wanna know anything about your stink finger! I just wanna have my—”

“I don’t know anything about anybody else—”

“I just wanna have my boyfriend over!”

“All right, but no bedrooms!”

“So I can have him over?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good! ‘Cause he’s right here!” You pan the camera to show your boyfriend has been sitting next to you the whole time. “Hi!!!” You clap excitedly. “Okay, so here’s the story. All of you guys keep writing and asking me about um, the guy from that one music video. Okay, so let me tell you the story. Here’s the deal, this is just how my luck goes. Pretty cold. So I meet Jaska, and he’s a vampire, and he gives me these like serious vampire eyes at the after party and we make out and I get really excited and then I find out that he’s a FINNISH EXCHANGE STUDENT AND HE DOESN'T EVEN SPEAK ANY ENGLISH. Not that it matters. He’s back on a boat to Finland pretty soon. But, in the meantime, he has very sweetly agreed to come over and be on the vlog! So um…. Ladies and gentleman, without further ado, this is Jaska. Say hi. Say hi to everybody on YouTube. Say hi.”

“Hi! Hi!”

“If there’s anything you wanna say, you can say it to the YouTube viewers!”

Jaska starts talking in his native language. You have no idea what he’s saying. Nearly 300 years of existence and learning more than the three languages you already know has never been high on the list of your priorities. You’re fine with French, Italian, and English. But his accent is just so fucking sexy you spontaneously start making out with him on camera while he’s mid-sentence.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhh!” Lestat yells, then pushes you apart. “Sister! Thank you, thank you very much!”

Mojo starts barking.

“See, you’ve upset the dog! You’ve upset me! None of this in my house! Vampire or not, I’ll break your fucking neck!” He threatens your boyfriend.

“…yeah. Okay.” Your boyfriend says in awkward English.

“See this is the kind of thing that leads to the stink finger!” He then starts talking in a baby voice to Mojo, “who’s my baby? That’s right, you are!”

“…How do you say stink finger in Finnish?”

~

“Let’s see…where are we gonna start today? Um….”

Lestat is on the phone. “Yeah, how much is your Mandarin Garnet? Yeah. The one that’s on TV right now. It’s a Mandarin, it’s an oval cut. Yeah. Well, do you think you guys have a discount? Senior citizens? Uh, I’m white…”

“Lestat! Are you buying more gemstones?”

“It’s beautiful, it's Mandarin!”

“Lestat, give me that!” You wrestle his phone out of his hands.

“SEND IT TO ME!”

“He’s not - no, we don’t want any more gemstones.” You hang up his phone. “Lestat, you have a closet full of gemstones!”

“But I don’t have that one!” He points at the TV screen. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Lestat!”

“How much is it?” He takes out another phone.

“Lestat! Give me that!”

“No!”

You wrestle that phone away from him too. “God…”

“I can start using them to bedazzle. I ordered a bedazzler the other day.”

“LESTAT!”

“It was cheap.”

“My brother’s addicted to online shopping. Et il est complétement taré aussi. Enfin, rien de nouveau.” (And he is completely crazy. I mean, nothing new.)

“It was three easy payments of $49.95 every three weeks.”

“What are you gonna do with a bedazzler, Lestat?!”

“I’m gonna use the gems! I’m gonna sell them online on the eBay thing! Put it on eBay! Whatever that is. Oh, do me a favor, call our PA, have her pick up lunch.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking done right now. You can call her yourself.”

“Look how beautiful it is!” Lestat points at the TV screen insistently.

You turn to look. “Oh, that is pretty…”

“Mandarin. It looks like a piece of orange chicken.”

You relent and give Lestat his phone back to order the damn gemstone.

~

“My brother’s ‘friend’—” You use heavy air quotes. “Raglan James, is in town. He’s been here for two weeks. I fucking hate him. Lestat loves him. Calls him RJ and just cannot get enough of him. Probably because he claims to be a friend of David Talbot, our actual friend. But this guy… He’s disgusting. They’ve been partying for two weeks in our living room. It’s gonna get better though, wait for it, seriously stick around for it. In the meantime—” You try to raise your voice to be heard over their loud chatting. “IN THE MEANTIME, I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERING.”

“I’m double fisting! I’m double fisting! I’m double fisting!” Lestat says, in the middle of telling a funny story. Well…humor is subjective.

“‘Do vampires…?’ CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS? I’M TRYING TO DO MY VLOG! Putain, je vais finir par déménager, moi.” (Fuck, I’m gonna end up moving out.)

“Yeah, could you please go somewhere else and do your vlog?”

“What’s a vlog? Why do you put a V in front of it?”

“Because it’s a video blog,” Lestat explains. “They call it a vlog.”

“Thank you,” you say.

“Why don’t you call it a…vidiary or a vijournal?” Raglan asks.

“We should call it that, Sister. A vidiary.”

“Sounds dirty.”

“Speaking of vijournal, when was the last time you got laid?” Raglan asks.

“Uuugh!! There’s TWO of them!!”

“It was like 14 minutes ago.”

“EUGH! Personne n’a envie de savoir ça!!” (Nobody wants to know it!!)

“Sarah, do you pay attention in school?”

“Who the FUCK is Sarah!?”

“I haven’t always lived here. I was living in England and studying abroad. Did you know that, in 1588, when Queen Beth defeated the Spanish at sea— You remember reading about that? She threw a— You remember reading about that?”

“They had no tea! The English! No tea!” Lestat says.

“Yeah, but what wasn’t written in the books was that she threw a four-day rager!”

You roll your eyes so fucking hard they nearly roll back into your head.

“No way! I knew The Virgin Queen wasn’t a virgin after all! She must’ve had so many men in her bed. Reminds me of the time I tag-teamed a Scottish girl with—” Lestat starts.

“OHHHH!” You don’t want to hear any more. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“The Royal line had syphilis for a hundred years!”

“I bet it was worth it though!”

“And in 1749, another vampire ate out Martha Washington.”

“Ohhhh my god! That is NOT true! The Talamasca are so full of shit!”

“Well, she was Dandridge at the time. Martha Dandridge.”

“If I have to keep listening to you, I’m gonna pull a Van Gogh and cut my own ears off.”

“Actually, Van Gogh cutting his ear off is a myth. Did you know that it was actually…”

You drown out his voice. You don’t fucking care.

“I gotta take a smoke.”

“You should go out to the balcony to relax.”

“So my brother’s gonna go to the balcony and then the fun’s really gonna start. Here it comes. Wait for it. Wait for it. Is he behind me? Thought so. Yes, James?” You refuse to call him by his first name. His first name is fucking ugly, just like his face and personality. And you won’t call him RJ, no matter how much he insists that he’s cool and can be called by his initials. He is not cool.

“…Do you wanna go to the Taylor Swift concert with me?”

“Mmmm...”

“Do you like - do you like Taylor Swift? Do you know who that is?”

“Not really my thing, James.”

“We need more matches for the balcony,” Lestat says, then he notices how close Raglan is standing to you. “What the FUCK is going on?”

“Nothing! I was asking her about what music she likes.”

“You cannot hit on my sister! What the FUCK is wrong with you?! Get the fuck out!”

“Les!”

“Come on! Get out of here! And don’t call me Les! You don’t have the right!”

“I’ve had a time!”

“Get out of here! Goddammit!”

“I’ll see you next year!”

“No! Don’t come back! Goddammit!”

“He shows up. He hits on me.” You say to the camera.

“It’s ridiculous! I cannot believe it!”

“Lestat throws him out. And it happens every. Single. Time. Thank you, Lestat! Thank you for throwing him out! Aussi, je ne me souvenais pas à quel point tu pouvais être possessif et jaloux…” (Also I didn’t remember how much you could be possessive and jealous…)

“I only threw him out because he wanted to fuck you!”

“Gee, thanks. Haven't you noticed how he looks different than before?”

“Probably too much plastic surgery. Humans can get addicted to that.”

“I don’t think that’s it… He looks like a totally different person every time we see him.”

“Yeah, that’s what plastic surgery does to a person. If you ask me, it was a poor investment. He got all that work done and he’s still ugly.”

“No, that’s not what I’m— I mean— you know what? I’m just gonna call David and ask him about James. There’s something very off about that guy and I bet David will know what’s up.”

[thereforepizza]

I just had a wild dream about camp and Avatar 2

My church sent some of my friends and I to a summer camp. When we showed up there were these massive, 6 story log cabins with hotel rooms.

A friend of mine is absolutely obsessed with ketchup. Puts it on everything from steak to chips—basically anything she doesn’t deem flavorful enough. In this dream, I found a ketchup bottle and I’d had enough of her shenanigans. So I took it and I covered the stairs with ketchup. All 6 flights.

My group eventually made it to our cabins on the top floor. I don’t think I warned them about the ketchup. We got settled in and there was a camera aimed at the beds to ensure we didn’t do anything sus. We didn’t even care.

So we got ready for bed in a room with like 8 beds. Each of them had one or two people in a bed. For some reason my getting dressed was to wear this freakin 1800’s, several layer, heavy dress. Anyway we went to bed and I stayed up trying to figure out where the heck my brother was because I hadn’t seen him once since we’d arrived. In the meantime I showed a little animal (maybe it was a mouse or a raccoon or smth) HTTYD and taught it some tricks or smth.

then my brother finally came in the room and told me he’d been in the bathroom sick since we got there. But he felt better so he was gonna go to bed.

It was well past lights out at this point but we decided to all chat and stuff anyway. I showed my brother the tricks I’d taught that little animal. Eventually we got too loud and got yelled at. We didn’t get any quieter though. But at some point we actually went to bed.

Well, kind of. The dream shifted slightly. And my brother turned into the younger brother, Lo’ak, from Avatar 2. And when I looked around everyone was in the same bed, and it was all the main characters from Way of the Water. We tried to sleep but my brother perked up, listening to something. I only kind of heard it. Jake went over to him and tried to figure out what he was hearing.

Then Lo’ak got up and went to the door. Jake and I followed. He said something about that sound being specific. Something he’d heard before. It was a pattern. Then when we opened the door and looked out, the hallway began to rock, water coming through in waves. That was when we knew to run.

We got the whole family outside and instead of being in the woods, we were now at the ocean at night. Some nightmarish creatures were trying to kidnap as many Na’vi as they could. So much happened in this portion of the dream that the details are getting fuzzy.

I guess Lo’ak has a cousin. My dream followed him trying to save some Na’vi from the creatures and being sucked down deep into the water until he couldn’t hold his breath anymore. There were these torpedo-like creatures that went super fast underwater and when one tried to push the cousin back to the surface, I could hear him saying (probably just thinking) “no, I cannot go up like that. I will not survive.”

And lo and behold he went up with one of them and uh… probably didn’t survive. Idk

Anyway, the dark creatures left finally and the Sully family went back up to our room. At that point mostly everyone switched back to my camp buddies. My brother was my brother again. I changed out of that stupid dress I’d been wearing the whole time.

We had to fill out a report for anyone who had an accident or died. Out of the like 20 people that came on the trip, we had like five left. My brother kinda switched in between being him and Lo’ak. And the one chick that’s the teen version of Grace was there trying to fill out an incident report but she didn’t know how to write, so she was just putting scribbles and drawings on it. We hardly had enough papers as is. Lo’ak took an incident report but he was in denial about his cousin’s death. He was convinced he wasn’t actually gone. I didn’t say anything to him, but I took one of the reports to go out and make a few copies so we’d have enough. I went out to the hall and tried to let the papers air out because they were still wet from the building flooding.

When I was out there, my mom showed up. I asked her what to do about the papers to make them dry faster. She just shrugged. I set them down and mom and I walked along the floors, looking at the damage. She told me someone suspected my teacher of causing the incident. As I walked along the floor had split more and more right down the center. And all I could think was “there’s no way she would’ve done this.”

And then some nonsense that’s all jumbled together happened and I woke up.

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's

finally posting writing here so true

n e ways okay so i’m brainrotting about the genshin charas taking care of their s/o’s when they’re sick 🥺 and now i'm feeling sick, sigh

ohm and sulien ambros belong to @teyvattherapist! they're such good chara's, i know i'm writing them here but i deffo recommend reading up on them

okay here u go, have some hc's that are kinda sorta long and by that i mean 2.5k- i haven't proofread this bc it's 4am and im going to BED but if i write for any other chara's i'll post a second part <3 mwah

tags: gn!reader, diluc x reader, kaeya x reader, jean x reader, lisa x reader, albedo x reader, dainsleif x reader, tartaglia x reader, ohm ambros x reader, sulien ambros x reader, soft bean hours

diluc

is not working or traveling when his partner is sick

absolutely makes them soup and hot tea and drinks

he’s trying to make them food but he’s not the best cook so he’s asking adelinde for help

absolutely asks jean, barbara, and ohm for help while his partner is sleeping but he’s so awkward LMAO

was absolutely frantic the first day he found out his partner was sick tho, he made them come over to the winery so they could sleep there and he can take care of them <3

absolutely lied about what room was his so they slept in his bed

“hmm this guest room is so furnished diluc are all your rooms like this” and no, no they are not, this room is his, bestie

diluc slept on a sofa in his bedroom and did work on the table that was supposed to be for flowers. kinda stressed over abyss order locations but was more worried ab his partner being okay so he was distracted

he just put the flowers on his nightstand for his partner to see when they woke up <3

gives his partner forehead kisses because they won’t let him kiss them on the lips and he gives them the gentlest cheek kisses while they sleep

also gives his partner his clothes to wear <3

cuddles them and reads to them when they’re awake and TEMPLE KISSES OH MY GOD

kaeya comes over because he’s worried his brother and his brother’s s/o haven’t been seen in a little while

n e way, diluc gets sick after his partner gets better and they nursed each other back to health

kaeya

like diluc, he took off work so he could take care of his s/o i,mediately after he found out they were sick

wouldn’t force them to stay at his place tho, he’d probably let them recover in their own place

but he might make them go to the kof hq or the cathedral just so they can be taken care of by a proper healer

he absolutely soothes their fevers and stuff w cryo and also the man can heal himself w his elem skill ofc he can fix someone if he tries hard enough <3

he gives kisses no matter how much his partner says not to but he’ll also give them butterfly kisses so it’s soft moments too~ sigh, ur too cute alberich

asks ohm and barbara and albedo and lisa for potions and such to help his partner feel better but he’s really lowkey so he doesn’t seem SUPER worried

he just hates seeing his partner not feeling so well </3

refreshes his partner’s vase of flowers at their bedside every day

brings home work so he can watch over his partner. he can’t cook super well either so he asks for help and brings stuff home from good hunter too

jean was okay to let kaeya off of work and diluc would never admit it (man practically swore everyone to secrecy smh) but he helped take up some of kaeya’s duties in his stead

and kae, the alcoholic, didn’t even drink while his partner was sick bc he was lowkey worried they would need his help w smth and he didn’t want to be drunk just in case <3

many cuddles despite protests of getting him sick <3

jean

absolutely uses her healer skills to make her partner feel better

panicked when they were still sick and thought it was her fault </3 she asked barbara and ohm for help and they just told jean to relax a bit bc her partner was sick and it wasn’t going to be a quick fix

wanted to take off work but didn’t, so she just brought her work with her

kaeya and ohm very kindly took up her other duties where she had to leave so she could be w her partner

her partner is staying in the kof hq where they get access to ohm and barbara comes to visit <3 but also so that jean can sleep comfortably enough close by bc you cannot tell me this woman does not sometimes sleep in her office or the library and barely makes it to the kof dormitories sometimes

she’s so worried the entire time, she’s probably got a few gray hairs and a new frown line smh

she has clothes that aren’t her work clothes???? it’s so foreign seeing her in stuff like pajamas. you didn’t even know jean owned pajamas

jean sets them up in her bed at home (yeah she has a place outside of the kof hq??? it’s surprising) but it’s a big bed so they can rest and she’ll have the lamp on her side on while she sits up and does work

absolutely dotes on them. she’s good at making foods that make them feel better, she’s just a good healer that way <3

albedo, klee, venti, kaeya, lisa, and ohm all come over to check on jean and co and make sure everyone is doing okay <3 lots of food brought

if jean was asked to sing to her partner normally, she probably wouldn’t bc she’d probably get embarrassed but i think she probably sounds v good and venti would give her his lyre to try out a musical instrument too. but also she’d read to her partner and they’d probably fall asleep together uwu

lisa

works part time hours at the library so she can go visit her s/o

probably asks them to stay at the kof hq for easier access to medical assistance and plus she’s almost always there

“cutie” but worried and very 🥺 (pleading emoji)

makes soup and potions and reads to her partner until they fall asleep

also super playful omg she’s still got a smile on and is full of affection while she walks her fingers up her partner’s arm to their face so she can cup their cheek

she’ll make her partner laugh and smile and blush even when they’re sick, but she makes them laugh until they cough sometimes and immediately feels so bad

jean, barbara, kaeya, albedo and ohm all come to visit with different foods and soups and medicines and such

klee comes knocking and gives lisa some good fisherman’s toast and asks lisa’s s/o if they want to hug dodoco b/c that always makes klee feel better

purple roses galore, lisa has them in her partner’s room and they’ve got a potion to make the. uh. sniffer? to make the sniffer feel better. don’t ask me how, idk but she would find a way to make them physically feel better with flowers

reads to her partner ofc, and she tells them stories ab her own life and time at sumeru sans the crazies

worried looks when her s/o is sleeping but also the softest smiles when they wake up pls-

albedo

cutest lil frown on his face when he finds out his partner is sick

immediately they are taken home and he’s testing to confirm what’s wrong w them and what he can do to speed up their recovery

he’s more distracted than usual at work but he’s coming over to your place all the time w what paperwork he can do

also sketches his partner while they don’t know. he’s got lots of beautiful candids of his partner sleeping, looking out the window, falling asleep, reading, even drinking water. he’s made the most mundane things look captivating

kaeya and ohm come to check on albedo when he doesn’t show up for work after a few days and it’s bc he’s taking care of his s/o with food and soup and alchemical potions and shit. and when kae and ohm come in, they find his partner opening the door wrapped in a blanket while albedo is asleep cuddling the pillow they left bc he stayed up the night before making soup and reading to them

klee has camped out on his partner’s couch, she helps w the cooking too~ she absolutely lets them hug dodoco and gives them a treasure to feel better too LOL

many kisses from klee and albedo, and they also go out to get treats for albedo’s partner too

domestic albedo cooking in his partner’s kitchen and for once it isn’t some alchemical potion that he might blow up the stove with

tartaglia

takes off work entirely but BOY OH BOY is he stir crazy smh

brings his partner to his apartment to rest <3

he’s so worried ab his s/o that he makes all the sick ppl food the first day, orders from wanmin restaurant when his partner wants smth different, and also gets toys and such to entertain them otherwise

also reads to his partner but, again, he gets stir crazy after a while

absolutely does workouts and katas in the living room and phew shirtless tartaglia working out? gets the heart rate up for sure ahem

rushes to his partner tho omg- need soup? water? a trip to the bathroom? another blanket? he goes to them the MOMENT he hears them moving around. absolutely dotes on them <3

his family knows ab his partner and he’s probably written letters ab them being sick~ his family sent snezhnayan herbs and flowers and medicines and such

zhongli comes around because he wants sugar daddy!tartaglia with tea and medicine from bubu pharmacy. hu tao is in tow with well wishes and a “hope i don’t find you at work!” which is. a little worrying because aren’t you just a little sick-

many kisses from tartaglia because he is Needy and he’ll absolutely get sick from cuddling his partner while they sleep

also he’ll probably just like. envelop his partner while they sleep. they’re all cuddled into him and he’s actually so warm it’s nice bc they’re cold w a fever and he’s living for comforting them

he’s so worried tho, he’s got the frowny face and he’s so adorable but he just doesn’t want his partner to feel sick

dainsleif

the man camps in ruins, he’s going to his partner’s house smh

he doesn’t go into the church either LOL so expect him in his partner’s home making dinner and doing their grocery shopping thanks

he would get ohm and barbara to come over tho <3 “fix them please” but also “how can i fix them”

is so dead set on making sure his partner takes their medicine at the right times, he’s so soft for them and them alone

cooks soup and old recipes he barely remembers from khaenri’ah. he doesn’t really get sick, so he doesn’t remember these ones too clearly. deffo brings back old memories he’d long forgotten

reads to his partner and tells them old stories of how the world used to be, his travels, gives them the gossip on a certain khaenri’ahn but doesn’t give away the name

ohm comes over with medicine and lollipops bc dain is so unlikely to go to the cathedral to get barbara smh

but also dain, so self-sufficient, is unlikely to want to ask for help, so ohm just goes to help anyway

dain with the old khaenri’ahn lullabies and tucking his partner into his arms and singing quietly while he holds them and rocks them to sleep

dain is immortal, he’s giving his partner kisses bc “i’m immortal, ofc i won’t get sick”

he got sick

but his s/o nursed him back to health and then there were smooches the end

ohm ambros

the doctor with his ill lover oh my god

he’s frowny, he’s taking care of his partner at his home in springvale and his home clinic is open to everyone else. but everyone knows his partner is the first priority LOL

kaeya and albedo come over to see if ohm is okay or if his house needs to be checked up on. they’re wondering if he went on a last-minute expedition to sumeru and didnt tell them

diluc comes over too, he’s just checking up on his best friend but he’s also stealing a cherry lollipop smh. he heard from kae that ohm’s partner is sick tho, so he brings some soup and good food over from adelinde. he also brings some of his own specialty food tho, the once upon a time in mondstadt <3

sulien sending letters to his big brother to see if his brother’s s/o is okay

ohm is also just super protective of his partner, there are not many people who come into his life who he loves and lets in in the first place. he’s absolutely trying to heal them with his own vitality, so their recovery is much shorter than initially expected

barbara also comes over w jean to check up on ohm and co, complete w a goody basket of soup, a teddy bear, flowers, and books

ohm reading to his partner <3 he’s got such a soothing voice even if his accent is wack LMAO. he’s reading stories and even his paperwork because just his presence is comforting

he puts his hands on his partner’s forehead to soothe the fever goodbye

ohm will not sing for his s/o simply bc he doesn’t think he sounds v good. and he probably doesn’t but it would be so cute to hear him try and please ohm? 🥺

n e way i want smooches idc if i’m sick KISS ME OHM AMBROS

sulien ambros

when he finds out his partner is sick, the man blinks like twice and then suggests so calmly that they go to his apartment in liyue

man does not sleep normally, he’s just going to nurse his partner back to health and read during their recovery. fruit tart can cover his duties for him <3

sulien cooks for his partner tho, he’s making soup and stuff and getting medicine from bubu’s pharmacy. he’s also picking up books on the way home but some of them are to be read to his partner so it’s okay-

like tartaglia, sulien works out while his partner rests and goes to them if he hears them moving around. he’s reading to his partner and not so frowny, but the slightest furrow of this man’s brow is already such a big expression of his concern <3

sends letters to ohm asking for advice ab how to help his partner feel better. ohm just sends a letter back with “i’m coming” and shows up within the day LMAO

reads to his partner, and the monotony of his voice is soothing and lulls them to sleep. he just looks at them affectionately (well affectionate for him) and presses a kiss to their forehead before finishing the story on his own and in his head

tartagalicious comes over and brings food, flowers and a teddy bear with some of sandrone’s paperwork but he sends a smile to sulien’s partner with some well wishes

scara comes over too just to visit and check to see where sandrone is, but scara is a grumpy bean so he just says “feel better” all brooding and like it’s a command to one of the fatui subordinates LOL

sulien like ohm uses his cold hands to soothe his partner’s fever and also gives them forehead kisses <3

Edit: a link to part 2

[fastlikealambo]

the very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.

link to chapter one.

link to chapter two.

link to chapter three.

link to chapter four.

 Eddie Munson x  Fem Sinclair! Reader Regency AU                                                            Chapter Five

Summary: After years apart, childhood friends Lady Sinclair and Lord Edward Munson find themselves thrown into the Hawkins social season. With marriage and wealth on the line for them both, they must come to terms with their shared past in the face of scandals just around the corner.

Warning: This is a bridgerton rip off, this is a sandition rip off, this is a jane austen rip off. This is cheesy, overly dramatic, overly romantic. There will be fainting, there will be duels, there will be ballgowns.  If you are looking for historical accuracy, look away, it will not be found here so argue with your modiste. Does this story take place in regency england or america? The answer to that question is yes.  All I know is soft black girls in tiaras makes my brain go brr.

Trigger Warnings: Violence,  PinV,  The kind of heavy breathing and people sniffing each other that’s only found in period dramas,  Jason Carver is his own warning.

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of child abuse, intimidation.

Minors and ageless blogs, dni.

Dearest Readers,

 Just when I thought our season would lack scandal, it would appear I was proven wrong. Rumor has it that our Diamond has the suitors of our season drawing pistols at dawn for a chance at winning her hand. Though both men were unharmed, only one walked away a gentleman and it was not Lord Andrew.

 Word has reached me that our Lord Andrew has the honor of a codfish and cannot restrain himself from putting his hands on women’s bodies when not one such lady has given him permission.  I, Lady Hawkinsdown, enjoy drama but you do know what I enjoy more?

Consent.

Lord Andrew has retired to the country to avoid accountability but let my words ring out from sea to shining sea: Lord Andrew is now in social exile and let no one in search of a good marriage be steered in his direction now and forevermore.

On to more pleasant topics, shall we?

The Hopper Ball is just around the corner and I am most excited to see what will transpire among our guests. 

Especially our younger guests, who seem to be ready to insert themselves in the drama of the season.

Let’s hope they’ll emerge unscathed.

Lady Hawkinsdown

“Have you checked the stables? What about the gardens?” 

“They’ve already checked. All of his things are gone and he didn’t leave a note. You don’t think-”  Before Erica could finish that terrifying thought, you put your hands on her shoulders.

“ I’ll find him, I promise. You’ll be back to tormenting each other by tea time.” You said, grabbing your cloak.

“I want to come with you.”

“And I want you here, Robin will keep an eye on you. Before you say it, I know you are not a child, Erica.”

“Then don’t treat me like one!”

“I made a promise to always keep you safe, I need you to stay here.” You said, firmly but realized Erica already had her cloak on.

“You were going to go regardless of what I said, weren’t you?”

“ I thought that was clear.” Erica said with a shrug.

“Lady Sinclair, there’s three boys looking to speak to you. They say they have information about Lord Sinclair.” A servant ran in, followed by three rather sheepish looking boys.

“ You must be my brother’s new friends, Dustin, Mike, and Will.  Please do you have any idea where my brother is? I just need to know if he is safe.”

“ He made us swear not to tell you but I want to go to his wedding!” Dustin exclaimed and Will clamped a hand over his mouth.

“His what?!”

All three of them started talking at once before you let out a most unladylike whistle, bringing them to silence.

“One at a time.”

“He’s gotten close to our other friend, Max Mayfield. Her stepfather is a piece of shit so Lucas got it in his head that he would run away with her and get married.” Mike explained.

“They’re probably at the church right now.”  Will chimed in. 

 Funny, you had started the day trying to stop a death but now before breakfast you were contemplating killing your little brother. 

“I’ve always wanted another sister.”

“Erica!”

You contemplated taking the reins yourself as the carriage approached the nearest church at a glacial pace.

You had failed your mother and father.

You had men fighting over you and now had multiple people’s futures in danger.

You were starting to wish you had never come back to Hawkins.

“There they are!” Erica pointed out the window and you saw the pair looking very sad and very not married on a bench outside the church.

“Oh shit.”  Lucas muttered.

“Oh shit is very much right, Lucas!”  You stormed up to the pair, grabbing them both in a tight squeeze ignoring their protest.

“You’re hugging us to death.” Lucas said, voice muffled.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing. Have you any idea how worried I’ve been? Erica cried!”

“No I didn’t!”

“ I’m sorry, you’ve just been so busy with diamond stuff. I didn’t think you’d notice.” He said while you guided everyone back into the carriage.

“You think I wouldn’t notice my little brother marrying without a marriage license, a witness, or an inheritance? You could have jeopardized your futures, both of you. I don’t care how busy I am Lucas, you come to me, understood? I could have helped you! ”

“Sorry.” Max and Lucas muttered in unison.

“As for you Miss Mayfield, your friend Mike said that your stepfather is dishonorable, is that correct?”

“He’s a piece of shit, Lady Sinclair. He’s always been vile but ever since my stepbrother was hit by a carriage and killed, he’s become violent.”

“ That settles that then.  I will send him a letter informing him that you are being taken under the wing of the diamond of the season to learn more ladylike manners and  I’ll include a financial incentive for him to stay away. You’ll live at  Buckley Hall and once I have married by the end of the season, you’ll move in with us at our estate.  Does this work for you, Max?”

“You mean you’re not gonna send me back home?” Max asked quietly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Thank you, Lady Sinclair.” Max said with a soft smile.

“Yes!” Lucas exclaimed.

“And once we return home, no riding for a week and Erica gets to use your lucky mallet for pall- mall.”

“But-

“Shall it be two weeks? You did a good thing but you lied to me, Lucas Sinclair.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Between letter writing, filling in Robin, and getting Max settled, you were in no mood for a ball but social engagements still called.  You attended the event alone, the rest of your family much too tired to join you. 

“Are you enjoying your season, Lady Sinclair?” Patrick asked politely as you danced.

“It has been interesting to say the least Lord McKinney, but I am enjoying my time here.”

“ Might I be so bold as to inquire if you are enjoying your time with me?” 

You looked up at him in soft contemplation but nodded nonetheless.

“I have and I do hope we can spend more time together my lord.” You said, curtsying as the dance came to a close.

“I look forward to it.” The lord said, kissing your hand.

“I believe I have the pleasure of the next dance, Lady Sinclair.” A voice said and the pained look in Patrick’s eyes made you turn to see a blonde man there.

“I do not believe we have been introduced, I’m Lord Carver.”

You froze at the name but refrained from making a scene, allowing him to escort you back to the dance floor.

“You must have been a late addition to my dance card, Lord Carver.” You said, attempting to hide your disgust.

“Very late, but I couldn’t help but see if I could steal a dance with the diamond, especially after making your brother’s acquaintance.”  He said and your stomach dropped but you continued the dance.

“Have you met my brother, my lord?”

“No but I did come across him and a lovely young lady outside the church this morning, alone and with no escort. Imagine my surprise when I saw their wedding attire, I thought you were the only one on the marriage mart this season.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“What do you want, Lord Carver?”

“I have been denied a wife by that freak of a duke and I think you will do nicely.  You will marry me, have my heirs, and do all that is required of a wife of my stature.”

“And if I refuse your most gracious proposal?”

“ I cannot not ruin your fortune but I can destroy any future happiness of your brother and  the safety of his friend with one word to Lady Hawkinsdown. You have one day to make your decision before I make it for you.  Unlike Andrew, I have no stones for you to unturn Lady Sinclair. “  Jason whispered in your ear before leaving you on the dance floor.

You were going to be sick.

You left the ballroom, the noise roaring in your ears as you found the nearest door outside, taking in the night air in an attempt to calm your breathing to no avail.

The sound of the door opening and a match striking made you turn around on unsteady legs.

“ Shit, I didn’t know anyone else was out here!” Eddie said laughing, lighting a pipe before he realized who was actually in front of him, eyes narrowing.

“I’ll make it easy for us both, Your Grace.” You said, voice empty and head swimming as you forced yourself to stand straight up. Eddie cleared his throat and  merely moved to the side as you marched by, nearly at the door before your legs gave out on you, your head narrowly missing the balcony floor,  if not for Eddie’s arms around you.

“Lady Sinclair, are you unwell? Look at me, Sinclair!” Eddie  said, coldness giving way to panic. You were fading fast, scared, overwhelmed and confused by the day’s events but you couldn’t help but your hand on Eddie’s face.

“ Will you marry me, Your Grace?”

The horror on Eddie’s face is the last thing you saw before you fainted.

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[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [PROLOGUE]

Monologue

The most painful thing in this world,

is losing your home. Your place-to-be.

No matter how dire the situation,

if you are surrounded by people who love and care for you.

No obstacle is invincible. 

Then ーー Where do I belong?

Having long lost the place I once considered home.

I spent many years in a place which would provide for me. 

I had food, a roof above my head, a warm bed to sleep in at night.

But could I truly call this my home? 

Those doubts would lurk in the back of my mind, keeping me up at night.

Until one day, I was made a special offer. 

If I complied, I would be given the thing my heart longs for the most.

ーー A new home.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Outside

Sharon: This is the place, right...?

( Woah...Amazing. I’ve never seen a house quite this big. They even have a garden! )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Excuse meー! My name’s Sharon. I’m supposed to move in here today! 

...

...

( No response...? How strange. They should have been informed through the Church. )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Hello...? Anybody home...!?

Sharon: ( What to do...? There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now. It’s already getting dark. I can’t just stand here all night either. )

*Creaaaaak*

Sharon: ...Huh? Did the...door just open by itself?

( Does that mean I can go inside? I feel a little hesitant just entering someone else’s home butーー I was told I could live here so it should be fine, right? )

She enters the manor.

 Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Entrance Hall

Sharon: Just as I thought, the inside is equally spacious. I can’t imagine just one person living in such a large house all by themselves. Cleaning must take quite some time as well.

She puts down her suitcase.

*Thud*

Sharon: Phew...

( ...It’s so quiet. Almost as if the house is deserted. I wonder if the owner is out at the moment? In that case, I should probably wait in the living room. )

Sharon looks around.

Sharon: I guess it’s...that way?

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!!

( I...Did I just...step on something? It felt...strangely soft and... )

???: ーー Oi.

Sharon: ...Kyah!

Sharon: ( A person...!? Oh my gosh. I just arrived here and the first thing I do is step on someone! )

???: ...

Sharon: I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t think there would be someone lying on the floor and...!

( ...Speaking of which, what were they doing down there anyway!? ...Sleeping? No way, right? When you have a house this large, you definitely don’t need to use the floor as a bed... )

???: Haah...

Sharon: Oh no! Are you feeling ill, perhaps? In that case, I shall call a doctor right away!

???: ...You’re loud. How am I supposed to enjoy my Rachmaninov when you’re screaming the place down? 

Sharon: Rach...mani...? ...E-Either way, if you’re not feeling sick, then what were you doing on the floor?

???: Wasting his time away listening to music rather than making himself useful, per usual, I would assume. Well, I suppose it is best not to have any expectations of this man in the first place, as he will only let you down in the end.

Sharon: ...!? 

( A voice...? Out of nowhere...!? )

Sharon: ...Wah!!

( Where did he come from...? )

???: Now, who might you be?

Sharon: Ah...I’m sorry! My name’s Sharon. I’m an orphan at the Catholic orphanage downtown. I was told by our related Church that the resident of this manor has been so kind to take me in. Are you...perhaps the owner?

???: ...I see. It seems you are the next...sacrifice.

Sharon: Excuse me?

???: Nothing. I was simply talking to myself. ...Ahem. My name is Sakamaki Reiji. The second eldest son of this family and one of the residents here. ...The man you had the ‘honor’ of meeting earlier is Shuu. While you may not suspect so given his deplorable behavior, he is - quite unfortunately - my elder brother.

Sharon: Reiji-san...and Shuu-san, was it? It’s a pleasure meeting you both!

Shuu: ...

Reiji: I assume that is your luggage over there? A room has been prepared for you. We will have one of our servants bring everything upstairs.

Sharon: Thank you very much!

( Thank god...So there wasn’t any mistake after all. )

Sharon: Oh! Right! I actually brought a little gift with me! They’re homemade muffins I made this morーー

*CRASH*

Sharon: ーー ning...!?

Startled by the loud noise, she drops the box with muffins.

*Thud*

???: YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD!! I swear once I get my hands on youーー! 

???: Ahaha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that one! Lame-o!

Reiji: ...

Shuu: Haah...

Sharon: ( H-Hold on, hold on, hold on! Eh? Eeeeh!? I’m not dreaming, right!? That person just punched a hole through the wall!? )

Reiji: Ahem. ...Allow me to introduce. The one who destroyed the wall is the youngest son, Sakamaki Subaru. Next to him is Sakamaki Ayato, the eldest of the triplets. 

ーー You two, explain this situation at once!

Ayato: ...Che. Reiji. I didn’t do anythin’! Not my fault that Subaru ate those prank chocolates I left out on the kitchen counter.

Subaru: Fuck off! You definitely did that on purpose! ...I can still feel my mouth burnin’...!!

Sharon: ( ...Prank chocolates? I guess he means those filled with mustard and other spicy condiments, right? I didn’t know people actually bought those. )

Ayato: Of course! I was hopin’ to catch Kanato. Can you imagine what kinda face he would make when poppin’ one of those bad boys in his mouth?

???: ...Say, did you hear that, Teddy? ...I hope Ayato sleeps with one eye open tonight. He might just run into...unfortunate accident.

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( Another person just appeared out of thin air!? )

Ayato: Keh. The lunatic’s here.

Reiji: Sakamaki Kanato, the middle triplet. 

...Kanato, If you wish to commit a homicide, please do so outside of the walls of this manor. It takes forever to remove blood stains from the carpet.

Kanato: I don’t recall having to take orders from you.

ーー However, you’re lucky as I happen to be in a good mood right now. I believe I heard someone mention muffins? 

Sharon: ...Ah, yes! I made these myse...Huh? ...Oh.

Shuu: It’s not blood, but I think the carpet will need some cleaning regardless.

Reiji: Good grief...

Sharon: Oh no...! The box must have slipped from my fingertips when I heard the sudden crash and...

Ayato: Ah-ahー Look what you did, Subaru. It’s always the youngest child causin’ trouble.

Subaru: HAAH!? All of this started ‘cause you left those stupid chocolates out!

Sharon: ...They turned out really good too. What a shame.

Subaru: ...!! ...O-Oi...You...Um...My bad.

Kanato: ...Unforgivable. 

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: ...HOW WILL YOU MAKE THIS UP TO ME!?

Sharon: ( W-Why is he getting upset at me all of a sudden!? It was obviously just an accident!? )

Um...I’m not sure...I could make some new ones later?

???: There, there, Kanato-kun~ Relax! Even if the muffins were wasted, there’s a delicious snack just waiting to be devoured...

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!

( Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind!? )

???: ...Right here~ ...Nfu~

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( I-Is he talking about me!? )

Reiji: ...And finally, the youngest triplet, Sakamaki Laito. 

Ayato: Oi, Laito! No way you’re gettin’ the first taste again! I still haven’t forgotten last time!

Laito: Eeeh~? It’s not my fault you’re so slow, Ayato-kun~ However, if you’re so insistent on taking a bite out of her, I wouldn’t mind sharing, you know? I’m sure it’d make for a refreshing and thrilling experience~

Ayato: Geh! In your dreams, you perv!

Sharon: ( Taste? Bite...? Why are they talking as if I’m their food!? )

Excusーー

Shuu: ...Strawberries.

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: What are you talking about? I don’t see any strawberries around.

Reiji: Shuu. Explain yourself.

Shuu: Your panties. They had strawberries on them.

Sharon: ...!!

( When did he...!? Ah! When I stepped on him...! )

Ayato: Pfftー!! Strawberries! How old are you, five? That’s hella lame!

Laito: Hm...~ Strawberries are not bad but with such a lovely body, I’m sure you could pull off something a little more erotic~

Subaru: ...

Laito: Oh, my bad~ I forgot baby bro was in the room. I suppose talking about a woman’s underwear is still a little too much for him to handle.

Subaru: S-Shut up...!!

Reiji: ...Enough! No more on this topic! ...Haah. Is it really that much to ask for you lot to behave? Just for one day?

Ayato: ーー Anyway, Reiji. Who’s this chick anyway? Tonight’s dinner?

Sharon: D-Dinner...!? I’m sorry but...Why are you all talking as if I’m food or something!?

Ayato: Shut it! Nobody asked for your opinion, Ichigo Pantsu.

Sharon: I-Ichigo paーー!? I have a name...! ...It’s Sharon.

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I-chi-go Pa-n-tsu.

Laito: Hm~ This Bitch-chan does smell sweet just like strawberries. Perhaps I should call you ‘Ichigo-chan’ instead~?

Kanato: She really does. I’m sure her blood would taste just as sweet...Oh? What’s that, Teddy? You’d like to have a taste? Fufu...Good idea. I was just feeling a little peckish myself.

Reiji: Haah...I shall be in my study room. ...Ayato, Kanato, Laito. Please treat our new resident with some respect. It would be a shame to lose another one so soon.

Sharon: ...Wait, please! I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp the situation yet!

Reiji: Haah...Good grief. You must not be very smart, are you? Did you truly believe you would be allowed to stay here for free?

Sharon: ...Eh?

Laito: Nfu~ He’s right, Ichigo-chan. Everything in this world comes at a price. In your case...That would be the delicious blood pumping through your veins...

Sharon: M-My blood...? 

Ayato: Heh. You seriously haven’t realized?

Kanato: Teddy...Humans are truly so foolish, aren’t they?

Subaru: Che...Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush already and just tell her.

Shuu: We are Vampires. So the only thing a human such as yourself would have to offer, is your blood.

Reiji: In return, you will be allowed to stay here in this manor. Food, clothes and all other daily necessities willl be provided as well.

Sharon: Vam...pires? That must be some sort of joke, right? It was the Church who arranged this place for me! They would neverーー! 

Besides...Vampires only exist in fairytales!

Reiji: Good grief. This is why I simply cannot deal with humans. Not only are they incredibly foolish, they are horribly naive and trusting as well.

Subaru: In other words, you were set up. Just deal with it.

Sharon: ...

( No way, right...? This has to be some sort of mistake? Or a bad dream...? )

Shuu: Pwaah...Anyway, you guys do as you please. I’m going to my room to nap.

Subaru: I’m leaving too.

Reiji: Well then, if you’d excuse me now.

The three of them leave.

Sharon: ...

Laito: Oh dear~? Is that despair I see in your eyes? You poor little thing! Don’t worry, Laito-kun wil make sure to comfort you. After all, there is no better cure for betrayal than pleasure.

Ayato: Don’t be so down, Ichigo Pantsu! It’s not that bad of a deal! You get to offer your blood to Yours Truly after all!

Kanato: Fufu...I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. If you’re lucky, you might even make it into my precious collection one day~

Sharon: ...!!

She suddenly pushes them away.

*THUD*

Ayato: ...Woah!?

Laito: ...Aah~ Not bad, Ichigo-chan! I like myself a feisty girl at times!

Kanato: Ugh! ...What are you doing!? I nearly dropped Teddy just now.

Sharon: ...

She runs upstairs.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway

Sharon: Haah, haah, haah...

( Say, God...? )

( Is this my penalty...? )

( Are you punishing me for my crimes of the past...? )

Monologue

I just kept on running and running.

As said question repeated itself inside my head.

That must be it.

Those guys were exactly right. 

Humans are foolish. I was foolish. 

Foolish to believe I would be given a new home.

After all, people like me.

ーー They don’t deserve a happy ending.

ーー PROLOGUE: END ーー

[ Dark Prologue ] ->

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen. 

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error. 

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully. 

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering. 

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice. 

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter. 

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?” 

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle. 

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless. 

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.” 

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask. 

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper. 

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly. 

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space. 

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?” 

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven. 

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.” 

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do. 

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about. 

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper. 

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.” 

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer. 

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine. 

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk. 

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows. 

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth. 

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide. 

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers. 

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

[b612sunsets]

Ahhh I’m happy to see someone else loving The Devil Judge - it truly is amazing 😭😭🖤✨ I love Yo-Han and Ga-on’s relationship I swear let them be destructive together!

I hate waiting for new episodes so please tell me one of your theories, it can be about anything! 🥰

Right?! I love it so much, it's really good to have our lilttle fam getting bigger, can't wait until it airs on Netflix, we will have even more people going crazy about it in here! (at least I hope it will become a Netflix series after the show ends like Beyon Evil - another love of mine) and yes, lawful husbands can be destructive together but only to the bad people pls 🥺

It's tough waiting for new episodes every weekend and at the same time I wish for it not to end so soon. It hasn't finished but I already want Jisung and Jinyoung in a second season or working together in another drama. Their chemistry on screen is too good to stop there

About the theories, there's a few I saw on reddit/twitter and I make my own based on it and after watching every episode, but I think it's too early to talk about them. However, since you requested it, there's some that come to mind as interesting enough to mention.

The fire and the story behind it narrated by Yohan

1- Some people think Yohan did start the fire because he found out about the dirty politicians real intentions and decided to destroy them all in the same place before Isaac could donate the money bc he is "a devil" and capable of that since he was a kid as told by the priest with the school incident and the nanny with the maid and dog thing. side note: not for pranking some kids who bullied him because that's all it seems like, right? But in terms of observing, thinking strategically and being one step ahead when needing to punish the whole classroom who wronged him even as young as he was and feeling satisfied while watching the result and staying out of it. A type of mentality probably encouraged by Isaac and the books he gave him to read, unlike a regular kid who would just fight back or endure it. And we still have to see if it really was Yohan that contributed to the maid's death or if it was something/someone else and the nanny thinks it was him.

They think that Elijah even saw him in front of the door right before the fire started and smiled at him instead of smiling at her parents, like she did in the gates of the cathedral in the previous scene, so that's why she hates him so much now because she can remember seeing him as the responsible for it. But Yohan didn't intend to kill/hurt Isaac and the rest of the family, thinking he could save them or something, and felt guilty that he couldn't do so. Some even said that Yohan delayed too much in trying to save them after entering the church and seeing Elijah getting her legs hurt, that it may have been shock but why would he remember everything and everyone so clearly if he was in shock?

It's a good theory but I have my own remarks: why wouldn't he tell Isaac about the politicians himself if he knew the dirty about them then? They had a close relationship and Isaac gave him books about punishment and everything, it wasn't like Isaac was too naive and wouldn't believe his half-brother. He wouldn't have donated if Yohan told him. "Oh he was being the devil and finding a way to punish them instead of just letting is slide and not donating" still, Yohan wouldn't risk Isaac and Elijah with such a dangerous plan if he could avoid having Isaac and Elijah at all in the destruction scene by telling Isaac about it. It could have been shock and Yohan wanting to look and commit to mind everyone's face in that day responsible for hurting his niece and not caring about anyone else but themselves, pushing him away and delaying his attempt to get to them in time, leaving Isaac and the family behind (after they almost donated them their money) and things like that. So he can avenge them now, like he did in the school with the kids. That's why as soon as he could, he canceled the donation in the most easy way by saying his brother wasn't sane enough to make that decision before dying.

There's also the theories about Isaac being the insane/evil one, which wouldn't surprise me because I've considered it since episode 3 but at the same time I'll not be touching that topic now and I don't know if I ever will unless proven otherwise in some other episode

2- The other theory I have and saw people discussing (the one I'm most inclined to believe because I'm Yohan biased but again it's too soon to be sure) is that the story Yohan narrated is mostly if not completely true and he experiences extreme guilt for not coming back and saving Isaac when the church collapsed on him, as seen in the character introduction by tvN translated in this tweet that we now know it's about Isaac:

The last words Yohan said to Isaac was that he was going to come back for him, so he experiences nightmares like the flashbacks we saw in episode 1 and that's why we don't see any scene of Isaac in the middle of the church after the fire staring at Yohan or during the fire and turning to stare directly at Yohan when he narrates it. Because they're dreams and his guilty conscience and he remembers them when looking at Gaon. The flashback of Yohan kneeling down and touching Isaac with Elijah's bear close to him could be after he got Elijah out from there and he went back to put the bear next to him kinda like a "Sorry for not coming back in time", a reassurance that his daughter for whom he died for is safe and will always stay with him, a "Goodbye". He wouldn't just let Isaac's body lying there, he would go back even if it was too late.

Another thing is that when Yohan is showing Gaon his scar after telling the story, there's a book fallen at his feet. I think it was the thing that fell when Yohan standed up from the table and choked Gaon (trying hard not to comment on that choking scene as a 🔥 Gahan moment for our delight and imagination bc that's not the point right now lol)

This is the book:

And the first page of this book says "Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one." - John Berger

I searched about it and it can mean that never again will a story be told as if it's the only one that matters. It could also mean that never again will a story be so encompassing of the elements it tackles that no other story need be written about these elements. A story has many perspectives that cannot be understood by just a single viewpoint. Isn't that what this kdrama is all about?

One of the translations of what Yohan said after Gaon left was:

But there's also another version:

The meaning of what he said changes a bit depending on which translation is more accurate, more so when we add the book quote to the equation.

Kim Gaon and his connection to Kang Yohan

People think Gaon could be Isaac's relative in some way or just a look alike (I think it's just a look alike to contribute to Yohan's obsession/curiosity and their proximity from the start, that's why no one really comments on it, not even Gaon when he sees Isaac's picture). Dear God, let them not be related because it would make shipping our lawful husbands really strange, to say the least.

What I'd like to say and almost everyone is forgetting is that in the tvN character introduction we already have Gaon's past and know he wasn't always a goody two shoes, the man was a juvenile delinquent and can even fight (the rebellious phase he said he made the tattoo in episode 3?). He too sought revenge for his parents when he was 16 because they committed suicide after losing their money and being deceived by multi-level con artists posing as social service workers. But the teacher and Soohyun were able to hold him back.

Yohan's father could be one of the reasons for their death. He was a loan shark and might have lend them money after they lost it all and it caused them to have a great debt, that's why Yohan did a thorough research on Gaon and was interested in him (not only because he resembled his half-brother). They shared one enemy in common and maybe even a place (churches, Yohan's father tended to confess his sins in a church when his debtors killed themselves). Or Yohan might have researched about him at the time he knew Gaon was chosen to be the associate judge sitting on his left side instead of way before, because it's important to Yohan to know who he is dealing with and the dirty of their past if they have any. And then Yohan discovered everything and saw his picture and resemblance to Isaac.

The thing is: they have the same distrust/repulsion of powerful people who deceive the world and had a painful loss because of that. Both of them think they have the other exactly where they want but they get more confused about what it is that they really want from the other and get closer (as said in the summary of episode 5 that tvN released) while figuring it out. They will come to an understanding and probably join forces at some point. We saw it in the end of episode 4, the scene of episode 5 when Gaon says he can understand Yohan's pain but can't trust him if he doesn't tell him everything and then Yohan says Gaon needs to decide if he will get in his way or stay by his side. Gaon might go back to his rebellious days and stay with Yohan to seek revenge together while distancing himself from Soohyun and Jungho who prevented him from doing so

And that's about it! Thank you for your ask and hope my answer is satisfying enough! 💙 The hardest but also most awesome part is having to wait to see.

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,295

Chapter Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, aftermath of (temporary) character death, mild disassociation, slight s.uicidal ideation, references to past abuse

Chapter Summary: The emotional fallout is intense, but they don’t have time to stop and deal with it. Wilbur doesn’t particularly like where they decide to hole up, but beggars can’t be choosers.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Twelve: nowhere to run

The sun is too bright in his eyes. Too bright, and wrong, somehow, that it should be shining like this. Should still be shining, after the loss they’ve just suffered, after watching his brother crumple to dust in front of him. But the sun hardly cares for things like that, so they all stumble out of the hole in the ground that serves as the entrance to the spider spawner and beyond, and the daylight surrounds them, unforgiving.

“Where do we go, what do we do,” Tubbo is chanting, and Ranboo is muttering under his breath, a continuous litany of, “I can’t believe he’s gone, I can’t believe that happened—” His own lips feel glued shut, his throat devoid of sound. His skin buzzes.

(the two images interpose: Techno hanging from the vine, head at an unnatural angle, Techno wavering on his feet, blood pouring from his throat, and there is a flash of light and there is ash all at once, as if the first caused the second, as if instead of healing him, shoving his soul back into a body clinging to life, the totem burned him up from the inside out, and unlike the phoenix there was no rebirth)

“We can’t stay here,” Puffy says. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are shaking, but her voice has the same determined cant to it as it always does. “We need somewhere to hole up.”

“And where is that supposed to be?” Sapnap demands. His breathing is unsteady. “Where the fuck are we supposed to go after that? Where isn’t the thing gonna be able to reach? With, with Dream being, being, what even was that? Why was he—how was he—?” He breaks off, sparks crackling at his fingertips, and his face is a mask of distress, of questions

(was he always like that and did I not see or did something happen to him did something make him like that is that my friend or is there something inside of him something behind his eyes that is not him at all and if that is the case how did I not notice how did I not notice how did I not save him)

that Wilbur feels he recognizes. Or would, if he let himself. If he let himself care.

His eyes drift over to Phil. Phil, who stands silently, blood dripping from his wings, a thousand old injuries reopened by thrashing thorns. Who stands with Tommy in his arms, Tommy, who is curled up as tightly as he can reasonably manage, his face tucked into Phil’s shirt. Trembling. Quiet.

(he will die and I will kill him, the Egg says, and I have already begun, and you cannot protect him, you do not have the strength, except by what I can grant you)

“Church Prime,” Puffy says. “It’s the only place that might be safe.”

“Who’s to say it would be?” Sapnap snaps. “You saw it in there! The vines have never moved like that before, and Prime knows what else it can do now. And maybe the Egg wouldn’t be able to get in, but who’s to say that would stop—” He cuts off again, face contorting.

His leg is beginning to hurt, now. All of him is, actually, now that his adrenaline is wearing thin, now that the horror is sinking in, but it’s concentrated in his leg in particular, and he looks down to see that his left pant leg is all but shredded, blood dripping down in steady streams and splattering on the grass by his feet. The vines got him worse than he thought, then, and he bites his lip against the sting.

He’s had worse, though. He’s had so much worse. This is practically nothing, and Puffy and Sapnap are still arguing, and Tubbo and Ranboo are huddled together, eyeing the vines around them with deep suspicion, unmoving as they are just yet, and Phil is silent, and he’s going to stay silent, because Wilbur recognizes all too well the strain in his eyes, the way he’s holding onto Tommy with a death grip.

(he’s watched two of his sons die, now, and Techno will be back, will still have two lives left, but that does not heal the hurt, does not assuage the pain of seeing your brother, your son, your family die in front of your eyes before you can lift a finger to stop it, and Phil’s eyes shine with a grief almost beyond what Wilbur can understand. except he understands all too well, in the end)

He’s had worse, and someone needs to step up.

(the old mantle settles across his shoulders, and if he closes his eyes it’s like nothing’s changed at all, and the sun sets on the city he is determined to give everything for, still standing, walls still strong)

“Boxed in like a fish,” he croaks, and Puffy and Sapnap turn to him as one. “That’s what we’ll be, if we go to Church Prime. Whether it protects us in the moment of not won’t matter once we run out of supplies. We need somewhere better situated. Somewhere we can defend, that might withstand a siege, if it comes to it.”

Puffy makes a frustrated gesture. “I’m open to suggestions,” she says. “The prison, maybe, if we have to? We could probably keep people out as easily as—ah, shit, Sam.” She pulls her communicator out and taps out a quick message, and then frowns. “It’s telling me it can’t go through. Why isn’t it going through? Sam had all three lives, he should be—”

“Admins can read private messages,” Phil murmurs. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Dream could fuck with the whole system, whatever the fuck he is.”

Wilbur reads between the lines. Techno, for the moment, is unreachable. He processes the information and moves on, refusing to let it get to him, refusing to let himself be overpowered by

(Techno’s unreachable Techno’s unreachable Techno’s respawned and he’s on his own and they can’t talk to him can’t get to him quickly and what if something went wrong what if something happened)

emotions.

“Sam will make his way to us,” he says. “I’m vetoing the prison. Like hell are we staying in there. Other thoughts?”

“What gives you vetoing power?” Sapnap asks.

“Somebody needs to make a decision,” he says, and it is with strength he doesn’t feel, confidence he is only pretending at, a force of command that comes from some unknown place, since he feels as though he is miles away from himself, “and I don’t see you coming up with anything. Either help or stop complaining.”

Sapnap’s face reddens, and he opens his mouth, to argue, no doubt, but then Ranboo breaks in with, “Foolish, maybe?” and hunches his shoulders when attention turns to him. “Sorry, it’s just, I’m pretty sure Foolish isn’t, um, a big fan of the Egg or anything, so maybe he could help?”

Wilbur has no idea who the fuck Foolish is.

“Nah, he’s too far out,” Tubbo says. “It’ll take ages to get to his place. And we need somewhere close, but not too close, so we still have a good place to fight back from, right, Wilbur? If we leave now, the Egg’ll just take over the whole SMP with nothing to stop it.”

“My thoughts exactly, Tubbo,” he says, and again, it is just like the old days, and they are standing atop the L’Manberg walls, and Tubbo has just said something particularly clever, and warmth and pride curl in him before he remembers where they are, what they’re doing. They need to decide, and soon. They’re just hanging around near the entrance, and sooner or later, someone’s going to come after them, whether they let them go at first or not. “Is there anyone else who has a good position, location-wise and resource-wise?”

“Wait,” Puffy says. “Eret’s castle.”

“Eret’s castle doesn’t have doors,” Sapnap says.

“No, but I stopped by earlier to see if they wanted to join us,” Puffy says. “They weren’t there, but the grounds were completely free of vines. And sure, there aren’t any doors, but between all of us, I’m sure we could make some. Eret’s got plenty of supplies, last I checked.”

Eret. The name evokes a wealth of associations, most of them unpleasant. His first instinct is to reject this idea like the last, to avoid placing their lives in the hands of one who has already betrayed him, who led them all into a death trap, who almost ended their revolution in one fell swoop. But Puffy has a point. Eret’s castle ticks all the right boxes: it’s defendable, well-supplied, and if there are no vines to clear, all the better. They’ll have to build doors, but between the lot of them, that’s easily manageable.

(a wealth of associations and many unpleasant but there is Eret offering them supplies offering their fragile rebellion help and they tried so dearly to redeem themself and he could not have seen that then wrapped in his own shadows as he was but perhaps he can see it now perhaps he can better appreciate it, give a little more benefit of the doubt, and if he is given a second chance after everything after committing the worst crime of all then who is he to deny them absolution?)

(another memory, more blurry: he is scared but stalwart as they go through the motions, and he does not want to die, is terrified of that endless void, but he knows that the server needs a leader and his living self must be that leader, and Eret is here, and Eret agrees, and Eret acts out their part, and Eret is trying so hard, and he cannot see their eyes behind their glasses but he imagines that if he could, he would see a fool’s hope in them)

“Eret, then,” he says. “We go to Eret.”

And no one disagrees. It’s strange. They have no reason to listen to him, really. They have far more reasons not to listen to him, more reasons to think that following his lead will end in disaster than otherwise. But Puffy nods, and Sapnap backs down, and Tubbo and Ranboo both look to him for direction like it’s the war and he’s in charge of child soldiers once again. Phil looks to him, too, but his expression is inscrutable, and only a slight tightness around his eyes shows that he’s in any pain at all.

So they go to Eret. Staggering through the grass, tripping over vines that still don’t move, thank Prime, and then along the Prime Path, and his leg hurts worse with every step, pain jolting up into his hip, it seems, and it’s not long before he’s walking with a limp. But they’re all hurt in some way, so he hides it as best he can. He can deal with it when they’re safely behind stone walls.

And then, Tommy says, “Put me down, I can walk.”

Wilbur glances over. Tommy’s face is still buried in Phil’s shirt.

“You sure, mate?” Phil asks softly.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” Tommy snaps, louder now, turning his face outward, pushing against Phil’s chest. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths coming short and fast, and he’s trying to pass it off as anger, and maybe part of it is. But Wilbur knows him better than to think that that’s all. Knows him better than to think that he would have let Phil carry him in the first place if he was alright.

“Okay, then,” Phil says, and swings Tommy down. Tommy wavers for a step, but slaps away Phil’s hand when he extends it, muttering a sharp, “Fuck off.”

And then they keep going. Tommy doesn’t say anything else. Wilbur keeps glancing at him, but he’s refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, even Tubbo’s. And—that’s another thing that’s going to have to wait. He wants nothing more than to stop now and make sure that Tommy’s going to be okay, but they don’t have time, and the general in him will not call for a halt until the retreat is over, until he is sure the enemy is not biting at their heels.

(retreating from Dream once again, and it is familiar and not, the same and not, and history runs in a circle, echoes and rhymes)

Eret’s courtyard is indeed free of vines, just as Puffy promised. Wilbur half-expects them to be nowhere in sight, based on what Puffy said, but they are standing right there, next to a skeletal horse they’re frantically saddling, and they’re checking their communicator every now and again, with the jerky motions of someone who doesn’t particularly want to but can’t make themself stop.

Then, suddenly, they look up at the sky. Wilbur follows their gaze to the flock of crows wheeling overhead, a dark mass of beating wings, each bird barely distinguishable from the others. All of them completely, eerily silent.

Eret stands there a moment. Just staring. Wilbur can’t tell what the look on their face is, but their shoulders are tense. And then, they look back down, and realize that the lot of them are there, stumbling in under the gate, and they visibly startle.

“Hey, Eret,” Puffy says, before they can get a word in. “Can we crash? And build some gates?”

“What,” Eret says. “What is—Puffy, what is going on? How did Dream manage to kill Sam and Technoblade? Is he—” They run a hand through their hair, and then start striding forward, their cape flaring out behind them. They haven’t said anything about him yet, haven’t reacted to his presence. “He’s out, isn’t he? I was going to come and see, but he’s out?”

“He’s out,” Puffy agrees. “We were kind of hoping you’d help us out on this one.”

“Of course,” they say quickly. “Of course, anything you—anything you need.” They’re rattled, clearly, more than Wilbur has ever seen them, perhaps. “I just—how did this happen? I thought the prison was secure, I thought—are you all okay?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Puffy says. “Yeah, we’re great. You haven’t been around much lately, I don’t know how much you know about the Egg and all of that, but that’s an issue too, along with Dream. And some other stuff that I’ve got no idea about, that we really just kind of need to all sit down and talk about.”

“The Egg? I’ve—I’ve heard of it, I think. I’ve been elsewhere for a while.” Their lips twist into a smile that isn’t quite a smile. “Doing a bit of soul-searching, you might say. Found more questions than answers, unfortunately. Alright. I can get you all whatever you need, you can absolutely stay here if that’s what you’d like, but what was that about gates?”

Right. This is taking too long.

Wilbur still feels a bit outside of his body as he steps forward, but that’s alright. He’s limping, but the pain is distant, and he can let his brain work on autopilot, let his mouth move on its own without regarding the consequences, without thinking too much about

(this is Eret and you know them and they betrayed you and you hurt them and now you’re back and here is a test here is a true test it shouldn’t matter how they react to you you shouldn’t care for their opinion but you do you know you do though you pretend you don’t pretend they’re nothing but a traitor to you but you are a traitor to yourself and you know that between the two of you you are the worse and here you both are and you only need one more and everyone will be back together again like the old days like the old days those good old days)

what happens next.

“Right, then,” he says, straightening his spine and stepping up to be visible just behind Puffy, to the side and a few feet back. Eret’s head whips toward him. “To summarize: the Egg is bad, Dream is also bad, they’re now working together, also with Bad, Techno is gone, we’re all in rough shape, a mind-controlling potentially demonic entity is likely to try to take over the server, and also, I’m here, despite my best efforts. Does that paint enough of a picture for you, or should I elaborate further?”

Eret stares at him. He stares back, doesn’t let himself fidget. He’s putting the general on display, and it has never felt more like a disguise, like yet another mask,

(and didn’t he tell Tommy he wasn’t going to do this anymore?)

but a familiar one, one that’s almost comfortable. He can force himself into the general’s shoes and worry about tactics and battles and numbers and strategy, and tuck the rest of himself away for when there’s time for it. Can think of this as just another alliance to be made, a debriefing to be held rather than

(Eret traitor friend ally enemy the place in your heart is curdled and sour and you do not know if you are capable of starting anew)

and his losses are statistics and cold facts rather than

(Techno’s eyes golden and glittering and then they go dim and pale red pale and staring the light in your brother’s eyes gone out and it is not the first time you have watched a brother die in front of you but Technoblade never dies is never supposed to die never to go to dust never and you cannot make sense of it cannot make sense of the world turned on its head)

“Wilbur?” Eret asks, after a very long moment, and he doesn’t understand why their voice breaks in the way that it does. “You’re—it’s you? Not Ghostbur?”

He spreads his arms, lifting an eyebrow.

“Do I look like Ghostbur to you?” he asks.

“No,” Eret answers right away. “No, that you do not. Um, has this been a thing, or…?” They trail off, and Wilbur can’t figure out exactly what their feelings are, but it’s too late to back down, even if he wanted to.

“For a bit,” he says. “Not for too long. Can we move on? We’ve got bigger issues to deal with at the moment.”

He means multiple things, with that. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than why I’m here. He means, there’s bigger things to worry about than our history, and as so long as we’re on the same side for the moment, it can’t matter right now. He doesn’t know if Eret catches all of that, but whether they do or not, they nod, seeming to steady themself.

“Of course,” they say. “I—for the record, it is good to see you, Wilbur.” There is genuine relief in their voice, a tone that says they’re actually glad he’s here, more than glad, even, and he really doesn’t have time to unpack that at the moment. They need a plan, and fast, and they need some goddamn gates. And medical attention, probably. The cut on Puffy’s head looks nasty, and Phil’s wings are still dripping blood, and it’s difficult for Wilbur to look at them for too long,

(grief rises up guilt rises up crushing choking your father is grounded and it is your fault)

but it concerns him, how little Phil appears to care for their current state. So there’s that to handle, and it’s almost too much, almost. Almost too much for someone who has spent the majority of the time since he’s been brought back to life cringing away from meeting people, all the confidence he once displayed gone, shrinking, left in the void or in Pogtopia or on the podium from which he announced his own defeat, perhaps. But even still, he remembers how to be the general. He can hide in the general, present the general on the outside, be useful even while he thinks he might be on the verge of collapse, internally. He has been a general, and so he shall be again.

What comes first, then?

He pulls out his comm, scrolling through the messages. There are quite a few in the general chat from just after Sam’s death message, people from all over the server demanding to know what’s going on. His eyes drift over Techno’s, then, and he winces, but keeps reading. There are even more messages after that, capitalization usage increasing dramatically, and his eyes trace over familiar names, a pang in his heart. Niki. Fundy. Quackity. Several from Eret as well. Some from names he doesn’t recognize, like this Foolish person, and someone named Hannah.

But then, they all cut off. There have been none in the past half hour. Since they escaped from the Egg.

Out of curiosity, he taps out a few words: dream and egg have teamed, regrouping at eret’s. Upon hitting send, the screen goes fuzzy, giving him an error message he’s never seen before. So comms truly are down, then, and it’s probably just as well; Dream likely knows where they are, but if he doesn’t, there’s no reason to give him the information.

(and do these old allies old friends deserve to learn of your return from cold words on a screen do you not have the courage to face them yourself face your son your son you have not seen your son)

(the last time he spoke to Fundy, he disowned him. he doesn’t know if he still has a son)

(if he does not, he has no one to blame for himself, and perhaps that is why he is too cowardly to check)

“Right, then,” he says, looking back up. “Gates are the first priority. They might not do much against whatever the fuck that thing is, but it’s better than nothing. Eret, I assume you’d know the best way to go about it?”

Eret’s lips quirk into a slight smile, one that is, perhaps, slightly sardonic.

“It is my castle,” they agree. “The more hands I have, the quicker it will go, but I can get it done.”

“Anyone who’s not bleeding profusely, help them with that, then,” he says. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely—I assume you’ve got pots somewhere, Eret?” Eret nods, gesturing toward the inside. “Anyone who is bleeding profusely gets a pot. Once we’ve got that all covered, we’ll reconvene, come up with a plan for where to go from here. Everyone got that?”

He gets a few nods, and no one dissents, so he’ll take that as a yes. His gaze travels to the kids then, standing clumped together, and Tommy’s eyes are still shadowed, and Tubbo is shifting his weight between his feet, and Ranboo looks lost, awkward, and he wishes he didn’t have to ask anything more of them. But that’s not how wars work, and this has certainly turned into a war.

(child soldiers once again, and how history echoes)

“Tubbo, Ranboo, I want you on the gates as well,” he says, and tries to soften his tone at least a little bit, even if that’s all he can do. “And then afterward—Tubbo, I need you to go through with all of us exactly what you know about—what did you call them? Dreamons?”

Tubbo looks slightly miserable, but he nods. “Right,” he says. “I can try to ward the gates if you want. With, um, anti-demon stuff. I don’t know if it’ll work. I guess last time we didn’t manage to do much of anything at all.”

“Anti-what,” Eret says, but Wilbur shakes his head.

“We don’t have time for that. Tubbo will explain later. We—”

“The fuck am I supposed to do, then?” Tommy breaks in, crossing his arms. “You haven’t given me a job.” He glares, but it is so very obvious that it’s all a front, all a show, and Tommy’s expression dares him to challenge him, but Wilbur thinks that if he does, he just might break something in him. Tommy has always been so much more fragile than he presents himself as, so much more fragile than he likes to believe he is.

(despite it all, despite it all, he is only sixteen, only a child, a child grown old before his time but a child nonetheless, and now a child who watched his brother die for him, an estranged brother perhaps but still a brother, and Tommy has always cared so much and so deeply, no matter how much he pretends otherwise)

He hasn’t given Tommy a job, and he doesn’t really intend to, because Tommy, of all people, needs to sit the fuck down and rest for a moment. They all deserve a break, but in this moment, Tommy is the one who needs it most, and also the one least likely to accept as much.

If the general gives the order, Tommy will follow it, he knows that much,

(because he made his brother into a soldier he made his brother into a soldier and soldiers follow orders)

even if he’ll be angry at him for it, but Tommy angry with him is a sacrifice he’s willing to make. And perhaps directing his anger at him will help. Perhaps it would be better for Tommy to be angry with someone within reach rather than someone out of it.

(because Tommy is hurting, and the cause of that hurt is not here, and so perhaps if Wilbur offers himself he’ll feel better, will feel more in control, because Tommy needs control, because his abuser is out, is wandering free, and his abuser has killed their brother and told him that it is his fault)

But then, Phil breaks his silence.

“I’d like him to stick with me,” he says, with a smile that is obviously strained. “I’m not going to be able to reach everything myself.” He makes a vague gesture toward his wings, still dripping blood, and there is so much of it already drying on his feathers, sticky, tacky, almost blending in with the darkness of the feathers

(but stark against the grey-white of exposed bone)

“Why the actual shit—” Tommy starts.

“Good idea, Phil,” he cuts him off. “Tommy, help him with the wings, would you?”

“Why do I have to—”

“You too, Wil,” Phil says, and his mood sours immediately. “You think I don’t see that leg? C’mon, Eret, show us to the pots.”

When faced with that, he has no choice but to agree, really.

(he wouldn’t have ignored it. he wouldn’t have. He knows better than to leave a wound untreated in wartime. Even if something whispers at him that he deserves the pain, even if the bite of it brings him closer to reality. But his better sense knows: pain is not the penance that is asked of him, not a recompense that will do anyone any good)

**********

They meet again half an hour later in Eret’s throne room. Half an hour later, and his leg is bandaged and tender and no longer an open wound, and Tommy is frowning and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, and the state of Phil’s wings is still bothersome, because he didn’t let either of them touch them beyond what was necessary,

(and he recollects countless nights spent running his fingers through soft, silken feathers as his father told him how to preen them, told him that it was a sign of trust, an activity that only family, only flock is allowed, and now Phil will no longer let them near him, will no longer even take care of them himself and it makes him sick to his stomach to think of what has been lost)

but they are no longer bleeding, and that has to be what matters.

The throne room is not the best location for this, he thinks. It feels awkward. But it’s a room big enough to fit everyone, which is the point, big enough to fit Puffy, presence looming and forehead now bandaged, to fit Sapnap, fidgety as he is, like a caged, snarling animal, all restless energy. Big enough for Tubbo, for Tommy, for Ranboo, for Phil, for Eret and for himself, and big enough that there is an obvious gap at Phil’s right side where someone else should be standing.

Eret eyes her throne, glances at everyone else in the room, and then seats herself at its base. It’s a pithy gesture, meaningless, but Wilbur has more important things to do than to call her out on it, even though the existence of the throne itself grates against him.

“Let’s call this meeting to order, then,” he says, and Eret frowns. Perhaps she doesn’t like that he’s calling the shots in her own

(ill-gotten, dearly kept)

castle, but tough. He’s brought out the general for all of their sakes, so the general is what they’re all going to get.

(it’s a mask again and masks crack but he can keep it up for long enough he can he can they need a leader so he will lead he will lead them)

(you were so good at compartmentalizing, once, go good at shoving it all away in boxes in dark shadowy corners never to be opened to gather dust and cobwebs and faded recollections but the boxes cracked and the demon’s escaped and Pandora was too weak to stop them and it all ended in a bang and he cannot tell if hope remains but that isn’t the point because the box is opened and once opened it is not so easily closed and you are putting on a show a lie and lies come back around again they always do and you should know better than to pretend at strength you do not have you will lead them to ruin again ruin and gunpowder smoke and what gives you the right)

“Yeah, alright,” Puffy says. “Can we start by talking about—whatever that was? What were you talking about, dreamons? What’s a dreamon?”

“That sounds like a made up word,” Tommy mutters.

“I wish it were made up,” Tubbo says, and he winces when all eyes turn to him. But a moment later, he straightens, setting his shoulders squarely, holding his head up high. “I’ll tell you all what I know. Even if that turns out to be not as much as I thought.” He pauses, clearly struggling for words.

“Start from the beginning,” he suggests, and Tubbo nods at him gratefully.

“Okay, right, the beginning,” he says. “In the very beginning, me and Fundy were messing around, and we found some old books. We went through them for a laugh, and we learned about these things called dreamons.”

“Wait, that’s what they’re actually called?” Tommy interjects. “Like, properly?”

Tubbo shrugs. “It’s what the books said,” he says. “We weren’t about to argue over names. Even if it did seem like a weird coincidence. But yeah, that’s what they’re called.” His voice falls into an odd cadence here, recitative, like he’s telling a story, and Wilbur crosses his arms, gripping at his elbows. “They come from the darkness of the void, lurking around the edges of a server’s code. Once they get in, their only goal is to cause chaos and destruction. They corrupt everything they touch, and they can possess people and turn them into their puppets. They have unknowable powers, because they’re a sickness, a rot, like an infection in the code of the server itself. It’s really, really difficult to get rid of them, but it can be done if you have the right tools. Or—” He blinks, stuttering a bit, his voice landing more naturally. “We thought so, anyway.”

“What does this have to do with Dream?” Sapnap asks, stopping his pacing, looking to Tubbo with an expression in his eyes that hurts to look at, a bit, wobbly and desperate and pinched, like he already knows the answer but hopes that he’s wrong, hopes as much as he is able, even though he knows it will be fruitless.

Wilbur has put the pieces together. As best he can, anyway. And Sapnap’s not a stupid man. He can see where this is leading.

“Dream got possessed.” Tubbo sighs, gaze drifting toward the floor. “It was a whole thing. Honestly, we were surprised nobody else noticed. But we—we performed an exorcism. And it was really scary, to be honest. But it worked. We could see it leave, all oozy and black and gross, and Dream was better afterward! He was! So we thought we got it out.”

“But it tricked you?” he asks.

“I don’t understand how it could have,” Tubbo replies. “It’s not—it’s not like the kind of possession that you see in a TV show, where the demon can pretend to be the person or something like that. It’s obvious. It’s too—it’s too wrong to blend in, if that makes sense. It made his voice go all funny and deep, and the way it moved—” He shudders, and then continues, miserably, “The way it moved, there’s no way you could mistake something like that for a human. That’s why we were so sure it worked. Because afterward, he seemed back to normal.”

Something about this doesn’t make sense.

“Tubbo,” he says, wheels spinning in his mind, “when was this?”

Tubbo blinks. “Manberg days,” he says. “Um, that’s why we never told you about it, I suppose.”

He barely bats an eye at the reference. It doesn’t make sense. Because he has sensed that wrongness, as Tubbo puts it, has been sensing it from the moment he set foot in that prison cell for the first time. On some level, he knew that something was deeply wrong, even if a demonic presence was the last thing he would have guessed. But if the whole thing happened during—during that time, and the signs of possession were as obvious as Tubbo says, he would have noticed, wouldn’t he? He had plenty of interactions with Dream during that time.

(unless his own shadows stretched long, stretched far enough to cover Dream’s, to cover the thing piloting him)

But no—his shadows were of his own making, not supernatural. If anything, his mindset should have made him more receptive to suspicious wrongness, not less. So what—

(Dream smiles, and you know what it’s like, to have something whispering in your head, he says, once you let something in, there’s no going back)

“Maybe the first bit was a fakeout,” Phil suggests, arms folded, head tilted. He’s perplexed, which is worrying; it’s rare to come across a being that Phil knows nothing about. “It made itself obvious to lure you in so it could slip under the radar. Faked leaving to put your guard down, maybe.”

It’s plausible. But somehow

(and Dream stands atop the Egg and he says, he says, I tried to fight at first, but it turns out it was right all along, and he says it he says it like it’s separate from him like there is not something else something other speaking from his mouth after all and he tried to fight it he tried to fight it and what does that mean)

“They’re the same,” he breathes, and doesn’t know what he means, not quite yet, “they’re the same, and the Egg controls people, and he was talking about fighting something, about giving in—”

He runs a hand through his hair. Shakes his head.

“Wil?” Phil asks.

“Oi, Wilbur,” Tommy says, almost at the same time. But he needs to—he needs to focus as the pieces click into place, faster than he can process, and he has a conclusion but not the words yet—

He holds up a hand.

“Tubbo,” he says, “you said it can corrupt things. What did you mean by that?”

“I dunno, really,” he says. “It talked about it in the books some, but it was all weird metaphorical language. Couldn’t really makes sense of it. We were more focused on the bits that told us how to get rid of them.”

(he says, you know what the void is like, and Tubbo says that they come from the void, and)

That’s alright. He’s not sure he needs a hard answer to that, because he thinks that if one were to describe the feeling of the corruption, it would be

(it is dark and it is peaceful and there is static at the edges eating away at what makes him himself eating at his soul at his sense of self and it is what he wants, to be nothing, and he does not imagine what it would feel like if it were not what he desired, if he tried to resist it, resist the void all-consuming, all-devouring, resist the void that takes all things into itself and is never satiated)

something familiar.

“Alright,” he says, and steeples his fingers together. “Let me paint a picture for you. Someone gets possessed. You exorcise the thing. But these things can corrupt, you say. So maybe you get rid of the thing itself. Maybe Dream’s pretty much back to normal. But maybe it leaves little bits of itself behind. Maybe he’s not possessed, but maybe that doesn’t matter so much anymore. Maybe it changed him regardless. Maybe it’s still changing him, even though it’s no longer there. Maybe a corruption took root, and there wasn’t any going back from it.” He tilts his head, closes his eyes. “Suppose that the Egg is the same type of thing. Something that forced its way through the cracks of the server, something that’s been smart about it, biding its time. The things that Dream was saying reminded me a lot of what the Egg was doing, you know? Manipulating people, making them into things they aren’t, or into their worst selves.”

He strings the words together as he goes. He’s not sure he’s getting his point across. He used to be so much better at this.

“Wait, so you’re saying you think he isn’t possessed?” Sapnap asks.

“I’m saying we don’t really know,” he answers. “Not unless we get it from him. But Tubbo’s the expert here, and if he says Dream’s not acting like he’s possessed, I believe him. But even if he’s not possessed outright, that doesn’t mean there’s no—influence, perhaps.” He keeps his eyes shut; the darkness on the back of his eyelids is a natural one, but he can almost pretend that it isn’t. That it is darker, deeper.

(void)

“He was right that I know what it’s like,” he says. “I’ve felt the Egg in my head. And I was in the void for—a long time. It felt like forever. I know what it feels like, and there’s some of it in him, I think. Him and the Egg both. They’re the same kind of wrong, the same kind of unbelonging. I’ve never been possessed by a demon before, but if it’s made up of void stuff, that’s the sort of thing that stays with you. Whispering.”

He opens his eyes. Everyone is staring at him, varying expressions of horror on their faces.

He goes back over his words. In retrospect, he can see how they probably came off sounding.

“Wil,” Phil says softly.

“I’m fine,” he says, not at all convincingly, he’s sure.

(once he starts thinking of the void of the peace and of the rest it’s hard to stop even though his desires are now tinged with red and he knows better than to listen but he cannot help himself)

“This is all speculation, anyway,” he continues. “Might not matter at all, in the end, what the particulars are. We just need a way to stop them. Can dreamons be killed, Tubbo?”

Tubbo takes a moment before replying. “I don’t think so,” he says. “Fundy might remember better. But I think the only thing in what we read was the exorcism.”

“Which doesn’t help us much if Dream’s not actually possessed,” Puffy says. “Unless it might work on the Egg? If the Egg’s a—a dreamon too?”

“Worth a shot if we can get to it again,” he says, “but I don’t like risking so much on a maybe.”

“The less we mess with forces beyond our understanding, the better,” Eret says suddenly. She frowns, pushing her sunglasses further up her face. “As I said earlier, I’ve been away a good bit recently, so I haven’t been tracking the Egg’s progress as much as perhaps I should have. But I did notice an increase in activity—well. It was shortly after we tried to resurrect you, Wilbur.” She inclines her head toward him. “I fear that in our efforts, we might have interfered with something we shouldn’t have interfered with. Weakened a barrier of some kind, between our existence and—something else.”

She speaks with a strange kind of gravity. But her words make an unfortunate kind of sense.

He doesn’t look at Phil.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tommy states. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I’m with Tommy on this one. What are you talking about?” Sapnap adds.

“We’re getting off track,” he says, snapping his fingers. “We’re going about this wrong. We don’t have enough information, and we don’t have enough power. Those are our problems. How do we solve them?”

“The obvious would be to get the word out,” Puffy says. “Comms are down, but we can go by word of mouth if we have to. Kinda risky, with the amount of vines on this server, but the nether portal’s right across the way. No vines in the nether, I think.”

“I have lots of old books myself,” Phil chimes in, eyes skyward. “Might be something in there to help that I’ve read and forgotten about. And I’ve got another source of info I’ve barely begun to go through. Old shit I found. It might be worth a shot.” He looks back down. “We need to go get Techno anyway.” He says the last in a tone that brooks no argument, and Wilbur doesn’t try, even if it’s perhaps not the most tactically sound option.

(he wants Techno back too, wants to lay eyes on him, hold his wrist in his hand and count his heartbeats, each one a reassurance, because he knows what it is for a brother to die and come back but that has never made it easier)

“It’s better than nothing,” he says. “Alright, I’ve got a plan, then. Some of us go to the tundra, get Technoblade, and go through whatever books Phil has. Some stay here and fortify the defenses as best we can using what Tubbo can remember that he thinks might work, and a couple of us go around through the nether and tell as many people as possible what’s going on. Gather allies, resources anything else we might need.”

It’s not much of a plan. But based on just how outclassed they are, just how little they know, just how much exhaustion shows in their faces, it might be the best plan they’re going to get for now. To throw themselves back into a battle so soon would be folly.

It never sits well with him to bank so much on a hope, though, a mere possibility that things will go their way.

(but certainties were ripped out from under him the moment Dream killed the unkillable, the moment he saw his brother  crumple to ash before his eyes)

“Great,” Puffy says, grimacing. “What could possibly go wrong with that?”

The silence that greets that statement serves perfectly well as a response.

He closes his eyes again. The darkness is no comfort.

[broadstbroskis]

surprises- pt 8 | mat barzal

oooffff it’s been quite a long journey and thanks for sticking with me through the wait! it’s finally here- the next and last part of surprises! thanks to everyone for reading, thanks for all your lovely feedback and kind words throughout this series, and all the support as i worked through this last part! it’s meant the world to me and i hope you all enjoy this last part!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

When you wake up one morning to absolute silence, you get suspicious. No baby cries, no sounds of Mat breathing next to you, nothing.

But when you investigate, you find Mat sprawled out on the couch, holding Maeve against his chest, and they’re both passed out. She’s grown, definitely grown a lot since you brought her home, but his hand still covers most of her body. You reach for your phone, snapping a picture (to add to the many you’ve taken of the two of them over the past month), only to fumble it when you see the instagram notification on the front screen. 

Mat’s tagged you in a post and you sit down on the floor in front of the two of them as you slide to open it. And then, you gasp, immediately reaching to cover your mouth and hide the sound, as you look through the roll of pictures that Mat posted.

One Month with Maeve: You Like: eating, sleeping, anything your mom does You Dislike: tummy time

When you look up, Mat’s watching you, with a hopeful look on his face. “Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hi.” You return, flipping your phone around to him. “I call bullshit.”

He laughs-gently and quietly, so as not to wake Maeve-and then grins. “Oh yeah? On what?”

“That she likes anything I do.” Maeve’s just...so content anytime she’s in Mat’s arms. Anytime he’s just in her proximity. She’s recently started to recognize his voice, turning her head for it anytime she hears it...sometimes even over FaceTime. “You are definitely the favorite.”

Mat kisses the top of Maeve’s head gently; it’s a favorite thing for both of you right now, you’re pretty sure. “Maybe, but we still like anything you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “We?”

“Yeah, both of us.” Mat says, like it’s something he says everyday, totally normal and casual.

Cheeks flushed, you stand up. “I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“We��ll come.” Mat stands, careful not to jostle Maeve too much.

“You don’t have to.” You offer. You know how tired he is all the time now, between Maeve and playoffs. He could use all the rest he can get.

“I want to.” Mat settles himself on one of the chairs by the counter and re-adjusts Maeve. “I feel like I barely get to see you guys right now.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay off that nice, big house.” You chirp, pulling out the eggs to make omelets.

Mat laughs. “Can’t even move into it yet and it’s already costing me money.”

“Don’t think about the price tag until you get paid this summer.”

“Once again. You cannot max out my credit card in the Target Home Section. Even with a bonus this year.”

“I gave you the most perfect human ever and this is how you repay me?’

Mat looks down at Maeve, unable to stop the smile that grows over his face, and in return, you feel one spread across yours as you watch him. “Go crazy.”

-----

Two Months with Maeve: You Like: the new hockey mobile Uncle Tito bought you, when your mom and i talk to you You Dislike: the carseat, more tummy time

When you slip into Maeve’s nursery in the new house (just barely unpacked, but still the most unpacked room in the entire house by far), Mat’s got the same sad look on his face that he’s worn for the last three days, standing in the middle of the room, watching her sleep. You give him a minute, see if he notices your presence, and when he doesn’t acknowledge you, you slide behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, dropping your head between his shoulder blades. “You’re still amazing.”

Mat’s laugh is hollow and you know he’s thinking about how he was held scoreless for the last two games this series, thinking about all the things he could have done differently so that they weren’t eliminated. “You’re biased.”

“Like I’ve ever held back from telling you that you suck before.”

It’s not a smile, but the corner of his lips do turn up. “Fair.”

You smile, hiding the grin in his back. “We’re happy to have you home more.”

“Even though this means we won’t get to put Maeve in the cup?” You can picture his eyebrows raise with the question, even though it’s dark and you’re not even looking at him.

“I mean, she would have looked really cute in it.” You poke his side. “But I’ll get over it. We’ll just have to take cute baby pictures with her somewhere else.”

“You mean, like this new house we just moved into?”

“This new house we just moved into where every room is either filled with boxes or has no furniture?”

You feel Mat hesitate. “Maybe there’s a park nearby.” He says and you laugh. 

“Maybe.” You agree, slipping around to curl into his side, so you can both watch Maeve sleep.

-----

Three Months with Maeve: You Like: that new activity mat, music, afternoon walks You Dislike: pop goes the weasel, noisy birds on the walks

“These came out so good.” Molly enthuses, beaming as she stares at the pictures of Maeve that you and Mat had professionally taken, shortly after your conversation about it, to send out in cards to everyone you know.

“Right?” It had taken a little to decide where you wanted to have the pictures taken, the house still not finished and immediately eliminated. Almost all the parks nearby had been eliminated by your photographer due to lighting and the one that hadn’t, had been nixed by you. You and Mat had both scrunched your nose up at the thought of bringing Maeve to the beach already, as well as a few other suggestions. In the end, though, you can’t imagine anyone will be shocked to see the ice rink in the background of a few of the pictures, and it seemed only fitting. 

As usual, Maeve’s perfectly at ease in Mat’s arms, who’s beaming down at her, in your favorite shot of the afternoon, as you hang onto his arm gently to keep yourself upright, the same wide grin on your own face as you look at the two of them. There are so many other shots from the day- Mat skating while holding Maeve; the two of you laughing while you move easily on the ice; close ups of Maeve sleeping peacefully in Mat’s arms, just happy to be close to him (unless it’s the proximity to the ice- she is definitely his daughter). And then there’s all the candids.

“Some tough choices for the photo wall.” Molly muses.

“Gonna need lots of frames.” You agree, as the back door opens and Tito walks in, bouncing Maeve gently in his arms, closely followed by Mat and Brian. 

“Alright, patio’s done.”

“Perfect!” Molly claps her hands together and you give her a look because she sounds too excited. “Great timing.”

Tito huffs, still bouncing Maeve, who’s smiling away at him and probably going to start giggling at any minute. She’d laughed for the first time last week and it felt like since then, she hadn’t stopped. “We said we’d have it done in time, didn’t we?”

“In time for what?” You press, skeptically.

“Yes, “Molly ignores you completely. “But I honestly didn’t believe you.”

“Rude.” Brian teases. “The lack of faith.”

“Yeah.” Tito adds. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“What are you three talking about?” Mat huffs, and you feel ten times better already that you’re not the only one left out.

“Oh!” Molly blinks, like it’s only just occurred to her that she hasn’t actually told you what’s going on yet. “Right. You two are going out tonight. We made you a dinner reservation and we’re going to stay here and babysit while you do.”

You hesitate, relieved that when you look over to meet Mat’s eyes, you see the same look. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to force you to go.” Brian says, before Molly or Tito can jump in, with what’s certain to be a much less soft comment. “We just thought you could use a couple hours out. Without having to worry.”

It’s not...the worst thought, if you’re honest, and you can see the idea growing on Mat as well. “I mean, we’re probably still going to worry.” He says, even as you can see him start to grin.

“What, now, you don’t trust me with your kid?” Tito says, feigning hurt. “And to think, I almost made godfather.”

“Because YN’s brother almost didn’t show up.” Mat throws back at him.

“Classic Christopher.” You grin at the memory of your brother literally running into the church last month for the baptism only just in time. 

“You two go get moving; we promise to take perfect care of your baby.” Molly says.

“Team Baby.” Tito sticks his free hand, the one not holding Maeve to his chest, into the center of the circle you’ve all formed, and stares at you all expectantly, until each one of you piles a hand on top of his. “Team Baby!” He cheers again, and then he steers Maeve over to her activity mat and lies down on the floor with her.

“Go.” Molly gestures and it doesn’t take much more for you and Mat to turn and start getting dressed because that’s her I mean business face. “Dress nice!” She calls after you. “Suit, tie, dress, heels. The works!”

“Where could they possibly be sending us?” Mat mutters as the two of you climb up the steps toward your room, and you hide your snicker much better than he does.

“Mathew!” Molly calls, warningly.

“First shower.” You call dibs to him, and rush past him for it, laughing at the look on his face.

While Mat showers after you, you fix your hair and makeup, and then step into your closet, already pulling a face at all your dresses before you even look at them. 

You’re starting to feel more like yourself after giving birth, finally, after three months, but you don’t feel completely there. You’re not sure you ever will, that’ll you’ll ever feel that easy and carefree again, or that you’ll ever look the same again, and you’ve talked with Grace and Lauren, and are coming to terms with it. Have come to terms with it, really. The trade-off for Maeve’s smiles made everything worth it.

But.

But you don’t have a single dress that fits the way you like now.

There are four dresses on the floor of your closet and at least five more that you couldn’t even bring yourself to try on before you find a charcoal colored slip dress that’s covered in a pattern of dark sequins. The strappy heels that go along with it are an old comfort; they, at least, still fit you.

Mat’s holding a tie up in the mirror when you come out of the closet, like he’s debating if he actually has to wear it, but the second he sees you through the glass, his eyes go wide and the tie drops from his hand.

“Now those hands aren’t going to earn you that new contract.” You tease, unable to handle the thick silence that’s fallen between you.

“What?” It’s like he didn’t even hear the joke; his eyes are roaming up and down. “Fuck. You want to skip dinner?”

You actually kinda do. You’d seen Mat leaving the old apartment all spring in a suit on his way to the airport or the arena, all the way up until they’d been eliminated, so maybe it was just the context of the evening, but he looked unreal tonight. You nod, but then immediately bite your lip...which just makes Mat groan. “They’re not going to let us just stay here, though.”

Mat grins, reaching for your hand. “Trust me on this.”

“I do.” You smile at him, squeezing gently in return,

And it takes the two of you almost thirty minutes to leave the house after that, despite the heated looks in your bedroom, because neither of you wants to leave Maeve again once you see her, but Molly shoves you out the door with threats about missing your reservation, and once the door’s closed, that’s all it takes for Mat to turn his gaze right back to you.

There is, blessedly, still furniture in his old apartment, still his as he continues to decide whether to sell it or rent it, and you’ve never been so thankful for his unusual moment of indecisiveness as he lies you down into his old bed, pressing kisses onto any spot of skin he can find.

-----

Four Months with Maeve: You Like: playing with your toes, sitting, laughing and babbling You Dislike: when anyone takes a toy from you

Expecting Mat, you’re a little surprised when you turn and see that the form that’s flopped down in the shade beside you and Maeve is actually Tyson. “How’s my best girl?” He coos at her, as entranced with her as anyone else has been since you and Mat had come up to Canada last week to see Mat’s family.

Maeve giggles, babbling some noises back at him, and reaching her hands out for his curls. “Don’t.” You warn him, but he’d learned that lesson already this week, and he intercepts her with his thumb instead, a wide grin on his face. “Sucker.” You tease.

“How can you say no to this face?” He cries and yeah, when she’s laughing and smiling like that, you can see what he means. Especially because it’s Mat’s smile she seems to have inherited, even if it looks like the rest of Maeve’s features might be all you.

“Mmmm, you get used to it.” You tell him anyway, and Tyson grins knowingly, so you close your eyes, relaxing in the sun for a moment, confident that someone is watching your baby and you can get a few minutes of rest.

It doesn’t last long, because shortly after closing your eyes, you feel something heavy and wet plaster itself to you and you open one eye to glare, which is as much as you can be bothered with out by the lake. “Mat!”

He’s already grinning down at you, water from the lake dripping from his face to yours. “You looked a little hot.”

“I was very comfortable.”

Mat lays his head down on your chest. “Well, now I’m very comfortable.”

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You say, and you don’t need Tyson to laugh to know that you don’t sound serious at all.

“Liar.” Mat says, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. “You love me.”

You pause for a moment, unintentionally, as you move your hand up to play with his hair, but it’s long enough that you feel the smile start to slip from his face. “Yeah.” You tease. “I guess I do.” 

Mat’s grin returns and he presses the softest kiss to whatever piece of skin he can reach, but before he can say anything else, Maeve starts babbling away. “I know.” Tyson coos at her. “They’re so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Mat frowns. “Let go of my baby so I can push you down.”

Tyson laughs. “Well thanks for that get out of jail free card!”

-----

Five Months of Maeve: You Like: hide and seek, bananas, applesauce You Dislike: peas (can’t blame you, kiddo)

“Do we really want to try peas again so soon?” You frown at Mat, holding up one of the other jars of baby food.

He shrugs. “Gonna have to jump back in eventually.”

You pull a face. “Spoken like the man who didn’t get puked on.”

“We get puked on like ten times a day!”

“It was green!”

He laughs. “I’ll do the peas this time.”

You laugh. Sucker. “Deal.”

It’s super gratifying then, to see that Maeve hates the peas this time just as much as she had before. She’s not about Mat’s airplane noises once she realizes what’s on the spoon he’s trying to feed her with and none of his usual tricks are working to try and calm her down once she starts crying. 

But when Mat looks at you for help, you don’t do anything but laugh, continuing to film the entire disastrous event. “Really?” He gives you a look.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You fire the video off into, like, three different chats- the one with his family, to Team Baby, and the Islanders Moms chat, because he could probably use the ego deflation- and then reach for Maeve, who settles almost instantly against you, her crying quieting as you hold her against your side.

“Sure.” Mat grumbles, dropping the spoon against the high-chair’s table. “All calm now.”

“Oh hush.” You tell him, with a smile, knowing exactly what he’s annoyed about. “You’ll go back to being her favorite in an hour; don’t worry.”

Mat tries to hide his grin by ducking his head to clean the high-chair but you see right through him.

-----

Six Months of Maeve: You Like: bouncing, rolling, wiggling, literally any kind of movement You Dislike: teething (but we dislike you teething too), staying still

“I think she’s going to really start crawling soon.” You remark to Mat, the two of you both seated on the floor, opposite sides of the room, to catch her before she could wriggle into any walls.

She hadn’t quite pushed herself up there yet, but she scooted around pretty well.

“Don’t say that.” Mat groans, reaching out for Maeve and ignoring her cry of protest as he placed her back on the ground, safely away from the wall. She gave him a look, but then went right back to rolling around, rolling onto her back and then over to her stomach again, scooting toward you. “Fuck, imagine when she can walk. Chasing after her.”

“Inability to sit still for sure comes from you.” You try to distract Maeve with a toy, watching as she puts it in her mouth and starts to gnaw on it. Her first tooth had come in the other week, an absolute nightmare, and you were pretty sure another one was following. 

“Can’t prove that.” Mat says, eyes fond as he watches Maeve.

“Wanna bet?” You tease. That’s an easy phone call to make.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” Mat beams at you and you burst into laughter because you haven’t showered and you’re covered in baby formula.

“That’s what I thought.” You grin, and then reach out to pull Maeve away from the coffee table.

-----

Seven Months of Maeve: You Like: blocks, knocking down block towers, clapping blocks together, anything blocks You Dislike: noise-cancelling headphones

“These are so cute.” Grace beams, scrolling through the pictures on her phone and simultaneously bouncing a wriggly toddler on her lap. “I’ll send them out as soon as we get upstairs.”

You smile, thanking her already, fixing the earphone covering Maeve’s tiny head. It’s the Islanders’ home opener, Maeve’s first game actually attending, and there’d been a well-documented photo shoot with all the kids prior to the group of you heading down to the glass, to wait for warm ups to start. 

She wasn’t a big fan of the headphones you’d placed on her ears, constantly reaching up to bat them off, but she was looking around, eyes wide as she stared at the crowd around her, even after both teams skated out for warm ups, unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

But she was smiling, beaming the whole time, a grin that only got wider when Mat skated up to the glass in front of you and put his fist up against it. She reaches for it as you bring her closer to the glass, grabbing out for it as he taps it with a grin, and then she babbles a bunch of nonsense when she’s stopped by the glass, retracting her hand immediately.

You and Mat both laugh and he gives one last tap on the glass to you both before skating off to rejoin warm ups.

He absolutely lights it up that night, but the gifs of the the three of you at the glass during warmups cycle through the internet for days.

-----

8 Months of Maeve: You Like: your favorite blankie, Cheerios, cheese You Dislike: i really tried with those peas, kid

You’d do literally anything for some sleep right now, even just a power nap. Mat had been gone on a road trip for a few days now, due back shortly, but Maeve had been so clingy the entire time he was gone, not even wanting to be held by Molly when she’d stopped in to visit, and fussing anytime you’d walked away from her. 

She was playing with a couple of her toys on the floor right now, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes open to watch over her. You contemplated moving her into her bouncer, even as she kept side-eyeing you to make sure you were still close, just in case you accidentally dropped into a nap. 

Suddenly, an arm drops over your shoulders and Mat’s pressing a kiss to your temple. “You look sleepy.”

“I’m exhausted.” You lean against him immediately. “When did you get in?”

“Just now.” He squeezes gently, smiling and waving as Maeve, who’s abandoned her toy the moment she saw him, clapping her hands together and beaming at him, babbling at him happily. “She keeping you up at night?”

“She’s just…” You trail off, not sure how to describe what Maeve is right now. Because on one hand, she’s not normally this clingy, and it’s certainly a change of pace. But it’s not a bad thing to have her so close to you all the time, for her to want to be so close to you- you don’t dislike it at all. “I’m just tired.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, but before he can say anything, Maeve reaches her arms out for him. “Da!” She’s frowning, probably because Mat’s been ignoring her in favor of you. “Dada!” She reaches out again, and this time Mat’s face lights up, both of yours do, as he sweeps her into his lap.

“Say it again!” Mat prompts, tickling her, which of course doesn’t get her to do anything but giggle.

“Dada.” You try, leaning closer, and she repeats it then, but won’t say it again, for all that Mat tries, struggling out of his arms right after that, to go back to playing.

Mat runs his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely floored, and you still haven’t stopped smiling either. Your baby’s first word! You have to tell everyone! But there’ll be time for that later; Mat’s comfy to lean against right now and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere either, so you press a kiss to his cheek and then lie your head back against his shoulder, content to watch Maeve play with her blocks.

-----

9 Months of Maeve: You Like: walking, giving your mom and I heart attacks while walking You Dislike: sitting still for any length of time (stop laughing at me mom)

“You,” Mat sweeps Maeve off her feet and up into his arms as she toddles past him. “Went from walking to running in like two days! Give your mom and I a rest, kiddo.”

“She gets that from you.” You tell him, tiredly. He’s not wrong though. She’d started pulling herself into standing not long ago, and then shortly after, taken her first steps, and then it felt like the next day, she was off to the races. You spent most of your day chasing her around the house now; she almost never wanted to be picked up anymore.

Even now, she was squirming to get out of Mat’s arms and be back on the ground, already starting to whine about it. Mat obliges, and she takes off- or as well as she can; she hasn’t quite mastered it yet, her feet make that distinct slap noise on the floor that you associate with all babies walking. 

Mat chases and brings her back, but you two quickly have to settle each on one side of the room, eyes watching Maeve and turning her between the two of you. “She needs a friend.” You mutter, steering her back towards Mat, for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Mat nods furiously. “Suddenly I understand why people have more than one of these.”

You burst into laughter, loud enough that it stops Maeve for a second. But only a second; she’s right back to toddling over toward you, throwing herself at you, giggling along with you for a moment there. “One of these?” You call Mat out, and he joins you in laughing, as Maeve uses your arm to pull herself back up and starts walking again.

Mat shrugs it off laughingly. “You know what I mean.”

You do. “God, I used to not even imagine being able to have another one of her, but god, if another one meant they could entertain each other; I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d have five more if it meant we didn’t have to chase her like this.” Mat pulls Maeve back into the room, a small noise of protest coming from her until he puts her back on the floor.

You give him a look. “You can find someone else to have five more with.”

When Mat smiles at you, it’s softer, not his usual bright beam. “Alright.” He says. “We won’t have five more. Two or three more.” You side-eye him, trying to gauge how serious he is, but he must take your silence for agreement, because then he does beam.

-----

10 Months of Maeve: You Like: patty cake, waving, causing chaos You Dislike: bananas, apparently, even though you loved them last month

“Tito!” You gasp excitedly, only just remembering to pick Maeve up and bring her with you, ignoring her fuss in favor of Mat and Tito walking in the door with something much more exciting. “Why didn’t  you tell me you were getting a dog?”

Luckily, she’s easily swayed by the dog, eyeing the wriggling puppy in Tito’s arms. She still doesn’t look like she’s 100% certain about it, but it certainly captures her attention; she stops moving in your arms entirely, blinking at the dog, unmoving.

“Uhhh.” Tito says, in response to you, looking at Mat and then back at you. “Not exactly what happened.”

Mat grins. “So you wanted a dog, right?”

Your jaw drops and the next words are out before you can even think about stopping them. “Shut the fuck up.” And then you immediately wince, because you’ve been on Mat recently about watching his language around Maeve, who’s soaking up words now like an absolute sponge. 

But Mat only laughs, reaching to pull the puppy into his arms, and stepping closer to you and Maeve slowly. “Her name’s Blue, but we can change it.”

“Boo!” Maeve repeats, which really ices the cake on that one, and brings a smile to both of your faces. She’s reaching out for the puppy as Mat steps closer, and you prepare yourself for the worst, but Maeve bursts into happy giggles the second her hand touches the puppy.

Blue sniffs her tiny little hand tentatively, and then licks it happy, and Maeve giggles even harder as she does. “I might cry.” You announce. “This is the greatest day. I thought you’d never cave.”

Tito snickers. “He was worried he’d come home one day and you’d brought a stray home.”

“I considered it.”

“Thought this was better.” Mat agrees. “At least I got to screen for a good one.”

“All dogs are good dogs.” You state firmly. “Let’s put her down and let her explore a little.”

“Come on, Menace.” Mat takes Maeve from your arms, who goes happily, reaching for his hair as she does, but you’ve both caught onto the move by now, so he intercepts her hand with his thumb. “Let’s go follow your new best friend.”

-----

11 Months of Maeve: You Like: baby dolls, baby doll stroller, your fancy new cup, Blue You Dislike: puzzles- you’re not really about toys you sit for anymore

“How soon,” Mat starts one night, when you’re getting ready for bed, both child and dog already asleep in crib and crate from an exhausting evening of playtime. “Is too soon, do you think, to bring Maeve out for a skate?”

You’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste, but you think you still manage to convey what you want with a look. “You’re asking me this question?”

“Good point.” You rinse your mouth out and join Mat in bed. “Maybe we’ll start with mini-sticks and a soft ball.”

You burst into laughter. “You think she’s ready for that?”

“Oh she’s got this walking thing down now.” He brushes that off. “My girl’s an expert.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, we knew that was coming.”

Mat grins. “Work on that hand eye coordination now.”

You give him a look, trying to decide how serious he is, and then when deciding that he’s absolutely 100% serious, you press a kiss to his shoulder-the nearest spot of him that you can reach. “Please don’t kill our baby.”

Mat’s already scooting in closer to you, already half asleep because this asshole somehow manages to fall asleep like the second his head hits the pillow basically, and he throws an arm over your waist. “Mmm, kay, promise.”

-----

It was a mistake to sit down, you knew that before you even did it, but you’re exhausted from the day. Between spending your morning getting ready for Maeve’s birthday party, playing hostess throughout the afternoon, and then starting the clean-up process, you honestly think you could fall asleep right here against this wall that you’re leaning against.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you slip it out-it’s another message from Molly, probably just more pictures that she took throughout the afternoon-but it’s the instagram tag from Mat that really catches your attention.

The app opens to a picture of the two of you standing on either side of Maeve and her smash cake, both wearing happy parent smiles, as her hand brings another fist of icing to an already-covered face. There’s a picture with the three of you standing with his parents and sister; another with Maeve, Tito, Molly, and Brian; and the last one, just you and Maeve, sitting on the floor and her trying to play with the party hat Molly had put on your head, right after you’d fixed the bow on her headband.

1 Year of Maeve: Happy Birthday to our favorite girl! It’s been an entire year with you already and your mom and I can’t wait to see what comes in the next one

You can’t help but smile at both the caption and the pictures, unable to settle on one and still scrolling through the post when you feel Mat sit down next to you. “Somebody’s getting sleepy.”

The same dopey, fond smile is definitely still on your face as you turn to look at Mat and Maeve, who’s curled in his arms in a way she only does now when she’s absolutely exhausted. But she’s fighting it for sure, eyes fluttering shut and then popping back open again. “Big day.” You agree with him. “And it was a nice day. But I’m happy it’s just us now.”

“Yeah.” Mat says, and it almost sounds like his thoughts are completely in another place for a second as he shifts around on the floor for a second. “It was a great day.” It was; it truly was, and even though there’s still a mess to be cleaned, you’re perfectly content to just sit here for a while longer with Mat and Maeve. When he settles, you lean your head against his shoulder, reaching your hand out to rest it on Maeve’s tiny little wrist. “Hey.” Mat says gently.

“Hmm?”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You laugh, until he brings a hand out to you and opens his fist to show off a diamond ring, and then suddenly you’re not laughing at all. “Oh my god.”

“I just-I want a million more days like this with you,” Mat smiles. “I want forever like that. Marry me.”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, god yes, of course.”

And immediately, Mat’s kissing you, or well, trying to, because you’re smiling and kind of crying, and he’s still holding Maeve in his arms, so you both pull away pretty quickly. “I love you. God, I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I do. So much. It-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off. “I really can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mat beams at you and you reach your left hand out, biting your lip to avoid giggling as he fumbles a little, one-handedly sliding the ring onto it. But he succeeds, and you admire the ring on your finger, as you lean back against Mat’s shoulder.

The silence that follows is comfortable; the only sound the slight wheeze of Maeve’s breathing. “I think she’s finally out.” Mat says quietly, after a moment. “I’ll take her up?”

“Nah.” You clutch at his arm. “Just-let’s just stay here for a while.”

Mat smiles against the side of your head before he kisses it gently. “Okay.” He kisses it again. “But you know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his arm. “Not stuck.” Mat beams. “Well, I guess I might feel differently in a month or two.”

“Brat.” Mat says fondly. 

“Yup.” You grin and then throw his own words right back at him. “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Never stuck.” Mat says, and it sounds like such a promise that you can’t help but lean over and try to kiss him again.

[practicalmagicintuitions]

HC+DG business relationship, career reading

DISCLAIMER: If you will send me an Anon, I will answer in the same tone as your ask, opinion is written.

All information and statements made in this reading or any other post of mine are all alleged until proven to be fact and for entertainment purposes & usage only. All information stated is based on my intuition and my tarot cards. Opinion only. The readings have no intention to cause any harm to the individuals, people featured in it.

Disclaimer 2 : I always always want to give you insightful, detailed readings but I had to be short with this because it’s a sad reading. I hope you will… well… enjoy or appreciate it and if you have questions go on, but I physically and mentally couldn’t go deeper in this.

The foundation of the relationship?

6 of Pentacles, 7 of Swords, The Magician.

Let’s start with the Magician. The Magician is the first numbered Major Arcana card (the Fool is the 0). This is the manifesting, the I am doing card. On the card, the Magician is raising his one hand to heaven and with the other hand, he points to the ground, to earth. This refers to the Wiccan prayer “As above so below”  This means mind and matter are reflections of each other. We are part of the universe and the universe is inside us. The Magician creates a future with a word. Words and acts should match.

As a career choice, he is someone who is self-employed, who is on the stage, who wants applause, who wants to perform…

This card is also about to reveal, like a magic trick. 

7ofS is trickery, mind game, lying, walking on eggshells, sneaking. 

The foundation of this relationship is codependency. The promise that they will do something huge and meaningful, build a new future together, but this is not true. That promise is not honest, there are lies and sneaky things beneath the surface. 7ofS has a meaning that someone doesn't want to lie but he has to. On the card the figure holds 5 swords and 2 are in the ground, he looks at those. This could mean he wants honesty but he cannot know how.  (I have a few unpublished readings and this card is coming up more and more frequently). 

What keeps them together?

3 of cups rx, 8 of cups rx, 4 of wands rx 

What keeps them together? The fact that he basically feels he has no option. He cannot go right or left because the options are horrible everywhere for different reasons. He fears change. 8ofCrx is fear of abandonment, emotional weakness. On one hand, he lost touch with his friends(3ofCrx) or they just grew apart, but they are not actively in each other's life. It could mean he is left out from their former friends’ group or they are not happy for his success. So he is lacking that friendly, supportive energy. (disclaimer: this is such a sad row in this spread, I am trying hard, but I am struggling to write what I feel and see, I hope you will understand what I want to say). This also could mean false friends, who are gossiping and bitching. I do not think he genuinely feels friendship towards DG or her towards him.

In my previous reading, I repeatedly got cards that mean one certain thing, but I chose to ignore that meaning, because, Nah, it’s not important. But this card(3ofCrx) means it so strong, I have to mention. And do not put words in my mouth, I am not stating anything but I have to mention it now. This card very strongly suggests some problems with alcohol and over partying. I am NOT saying he is an alcoholic, I am NOT saying that. What I am saying is that he perhaps has a tendency to drink more than he should and more often than he should. And if this becomes habitual… could be a problem. I’ve gotten this since I’ve started reading on him, and this is the point where I have to mention it. 

And top of that…. the 4 of Wands rx also mean he feels himself cast out - or just not belonging-  on the home front. Think about it… all of his brothers have their own family. And probably his parents are feeling good themselves too. I mean my parents have been living such a full, exciting life since I grew up and I seriously started my own life separately. It doesn’t mean they don’t love him, but he could feel left out nevertheless. 

So what I am getting at is that he is sticking to her, because he is emotionally immature and just doesn't want to change because of fear. He feels he doesn’t have a supporting family background. He cannot go back home emotionally for support, he chose to stay in a false friendship because he feels he is cast out from the warmth of the home and from real friendships. There is no business or project card in this spread… What keeps them together is not really work or business-related. 

Where is his career heading?

Fool, The Emperor rx, 5 of Pentacles

( I just want to sob, this whole reading is so depressing…. I cannot….)

He has new options, directions in his life but with the Emperor rx he almost has a tyrannical approach to them, and I think this behaviour will cost him a lot. Cost him roles, investments and money. Those new opportunities will go away, and he won’t change, just continue this behaviour.  

The Fool not necessarily mean foolish behaviour but here… I think he believes in himself too much, he thinks the new opportunities gave him a right to be controlling, overly authoritative, bossy, demanding( Emprx). He is also someone who is not taking responsibility for his actions. On the card the Emperor sits on his throne, but because it’s rx he falls off from it ( or he was pushed). He lost his kingdom, the love of his people etc. This is the tyrant who is weak card. Overly judgmental. Probably he will always find something in the new offers, beginnings which are not good enough for him.

And this will lead us to the 5 of Pentacles card. This card is a very negative change mostly financially, but I said before, pentacles are about resources. For now, I will describe the money part of it. 

On the card, you see 2 baggers, one of them is hurt, it’s winter, outside of a church. They are poor, have nothing, the walls of the church don’t protect them.

I think his behaviour, how he sees the new offers and his roles and involvement in them, how he wants to control everything will lead here. He won’t be a literal bagger, but he will suffer dearly. Doors will be slammed into his face. Maybe he couldn’t keep his lifestyle at the level he used to. As an investment, it means bad decisions, bankruptcy, etc. 

In the spread, the 5ofP is under the 4ofWrx. Both mean that you are cast out, left out, and don't belong. 

On a very concrete level 4 of W rx and 5 of P together could mean some serious money loss because of a real estate deal or because of renovation, etc. 

I also have to mention that both the Emperor rx both the 5ofP means you are lacking spiritual growth and overly focus on material things.

How does he see his career?

8 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune rx

Normally 6 of S is leaving behind some troublesome time, situation and seeking a safe harbour somewhere else. When I saw this card in the row I felt this, moving away not his decision, something which is forced on him, but this is just an intuition.

8 of P is the success card and he leaves this behind for some reason, maybe seeking an even bigger success, but he is heading towards the reversed Wheel which is usually the bad turn of events. The bad luck. 

8ofP is total focus on your task which needs time to bloom, but this card is very still. And the 6ofSw is a moving card. It could mean he wants something more exciting, to make things move, not just stand or sit still and focus. Maybe he doesn’t realise lack of movements doesn’t mean things are not evolving, and he wants to leave this aspect behind. This seemingly stagnation period. Problem is, it seems, he abandoned success to take a risk. Maybe part of this already happened and he knows now he has to rely on luck now. I think he felt he needs to push himself more and this won’t have the desirable outcome. Good thing is the Wheel is as life itself is in constant motion. Up, down, up again. It’s up to him how to react to this. 

Look, I get it, now it seems, he has oh, so many offers, roles, opportunities… his name has been circulating a lot lately.  But this reading had a very stable energy. It’s not a what will happen in the next few months reading. I will still check on him and NV, like a monthly spread, but for a while this is my last bigger reading on him. I will do short readings on others and I want to write about tarot in general a little bit, but I am still open to conversations and I won’t close my asks. 

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shin Tsukinami (Story 09)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too! If you enjoy these translations, please consider supporting me on ko-fi.

2020 Christmas Tweets

Shin: What’s with that face? Do you want to complain about my present or something? If you don’t want to get punished, why don’t you be obedient and accept it then? ...Though you’re not quite satisfied, I’d choose you over this any time.

Kino: I guess I did end up enjoying your Christmas meal and gifts, but don’t think this is the end of today already, okay? After all I saved all the enjoyment for the end, y’know. That’s why you should thoroughly prepare yourself for what you’ll receive.

Monologue

Kino-kun proposed a certain strategy to collect information about this place.

Which is why we started with searching through each and every mansion in order to find any possible clues.

After all, there’s only a church and three mansions on this land.

Now that I’m looking at it again, I’m certain those are all the places here—

I cannot help but feel as if there will be some problems in investigating this space though.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Yui: (This time we came to Reiji-san’s mansion instead… but I wonder if this is really okay…)

(We weren’t able to find anything so far, even though things are working out pretty good for us…)

Kino: Now, are we going to destroy something in here?

Yui: ….. !

Shin: You… didn’t I tell you not to break anything?

Kino: Ehh, did you?

Yui: (Yes, he did! He told you breaking stuff isn’t a resolution to anything!)

Kino: Maybe I misheard that, considering that I’m “searching” for clues after all.

Shin: Is that really true!?

Kino: C’mon, we have to continue searching.

You still want to know how to regain your brother’s memories after all, right?

Shin: Nn… yes, I do.

Yui: (Why can’t I actually get the feeling off that Kino-kun is totally fooling us here…)

(I wonder if it’s really possible to find any clues to regain anyone’s memories… ?)

(But for now I can’t think of any other way than trusting him…)

(Neither can I help myself but continue to worry about it though… for the time being, I should just keep searching…)

Kino: Now, how should I scare you this time — is what I’d never say. I’ll go start looking over here instead.

*Kino drops chessboard*

Yui: (Ah… the chessboard… Kino-kun moved it out of his way just now)

Kino: That’s right. There might be something hidden in the food rack.

Come this way, Shin! Let’s search there.

*Kino leaves*

Shin: Wait a second! Don’t move around on your own!

Yui: (I can’t believe he ended up throwing the pieces down… I guess I’ll have to restore the pieces on the chessboard for now)

Speaking of the chessboard…

(It’s sort of like the one I saw yesterday—)

Shin: Hey, Kino! He might end up tearing up the kitchen this time…

*Shin leaves*

Yui: (Ah, both of them kept moving. I should probably follow them)

Place: Scarlet mansion — Kitchen

Shin: This mansion even has one of the most spacious kitchens I’ve ever seen.

Kino, isn’t this a territory where we won't find anything? I personally don’t think they would hide anything in a place like this.

Kino: Hmm, you may be right.

But Reiji is the one in charge of this place most of the time, so he could’ve enough space to hide something here—

Ah, it’s locked. Guess it can’t be helped… I’ll probably have to break it. Ngh!

*Kino breaks cupboard*

Shin: Ahh! You did it again, what for though!?

Yui: (He ended up breaking the glass from the cupboard…)

Kino: We don’t have any time, so it’s quicker to do this, right?

Shin: No! There definitely must’ve been a different way, am I right!?

Kino: Hmm, this plate looks kinda expensive. It even has a golden pattern around… —Ngh!

*Kino breaks it*

Yui: Eh, Kino-kun!? Why did you break the plate all of the sudden now!?

Kino: Ah, my hand slipped.

Shin: Is that the only “logical” answer you came up with? I don’t think one’s hand slips carelessly after they yell out, does it!?

Kino: Ah! Maybe this will do?

Shin: Hey, listen to me already will you… aghh!?

*Kino drops something*

Yui: Eek! Kino-kun what kind of flavoring was that… !?

Ahem, Ahem, Hachoo...

(I got an itchy nose because of it now… !)

Kino: Sorry, sorry. The pepper slipped too.

Ah, that plate over there also seems as if it’s really expensive. 

*Kino drops plate*

Kino: Alright! This might result in an effect of defeating the final boss.

Shin: Why would you comparatively aggressively break it then!? Furthermore, why did you choose something as expensive as that!?

Kino: Because, isn’t there a higher chance of having a certain sense of accomplishment when breaking it?

Shin: Are you dumb? You must be dumb. But are you really that dumb!?

Yui: Shin-kun, please calm down! If they end up hearing us, we'll have to run away immediately—

Reiji: What is clamorously going on here!? Is this once again Kino doing something...

...Nn! What I am seeing here, what has happened here… ?

Kino: Ah, big brother Reiji.

Shin: Ah, come on! We already really got discovered!

Reiji: When hearing the sound of a rat stepping in one’s house, it is expected to enter immediately after.

It appears as if my collection has been completely broken into pieces only, is that correct...?

Kino... why is it that you and those guys from Orange are in here to begin with… ?

Yui: Ah...

(Reiji-san… he seems to be really angry…)

Kino: Ahh, we already got caught. And here I thought I could rage a bit longer.

Shin: Why can you go on a riot, while you tell me to be all quiet though!?

Reiji: It is all messy now… and you will certainly not get away with this. You will have to pay those reparations with your life!!

Yui: W-We’re really sorry!! Shin-kun, we have to run!

Shin: Y-Yes!

Kino: It was fun destroying them. Thanks!

Shin: You, come on now!!

Place: Abandoned house — Inside

Yui: Just now Reiji-san had some really furious facial expressions...

Kino: That was such a great face though. I’m kinda disappointed I couldn’t take a picture of it.

Shin: You there...

Do you really have to make enemies each and every time like that!? You just want to do nothing but rage, don’t you!?

Kino: If you keep getting that angry, you won’t be able to get those wrinkles between your eyebrows away, y’know?

Shin: And because of whom is that… !?

Yui: Shin-kun, please calm down! And Kino-kun, stop acting so strange already too.

Kino: I guess if you get scolded by a princess, you have no choice but to follow, right?

Shin: Why is it that you can easily listen to what she says and not what I do… ?

Yui: Hey, calm down, okay? Come on, take a deep breath!

(Shin-kun seems to be absolutely overawed from Kino-kun…)

Kino: That’s right, I’ve got a classy present for the princess though.

Yui: ...Eh? For me?

Kino: Look, here. I borrowed those macarons Reiji-san made some time ago. Wanna eat them?

Yui: Those are Reiji-san’s macarons!? How and when did you steal them...

Shin: Are you okay with that though? You know that you definitely won’t be able to go back to that mansion now, right?

Kino: I think I have already told you before . I’ve got no need to go back to that mansion as long as I can stay with the two of you.

Here, Eve. Take whatever’s your favorite.

Yui: Eh, but… it’s something you brought with you as you pleased, right? I’d feel bad for Reiji-san if I did that...

Kino: It’s fine. Besides, if we don’t eat it now, it might start rotting. And that would be a waste at the end, right?

Yui: (He does have a point…)

Kino: I only brought them with me for you to begin with.

Yui: Kino-kun… thank you.

Shin: So this is just for Yui? What about me?

Kino: I know you’re not that hungry. Besides, you don’t like sweets anyway, do you?

Shin: ...Well, I guess you’re right.

Kino: It’s okay then.

Here, let’s eat them.

Yui: Eh, um...

(Ugh… guess I have to… even though I feel uncomfortable…)

Choices

1) Obey him (black)

2) Decline it (white)♡♡♡

— Obey him

Yui: ...Should I open my mouth then?

(It’s a little embarrassing, but Reiji-san’s macarons do seem quite charming, don’t they… ?)

Kino: Yes, Yes. Now, aaah.

*Shin grabs Kino’s hand*

Shin: Wait.

Yui: Eh?

Kino: Hm?

Shin: Nom

Yui: (Shin-kun took the macaron… and ate it…)

Shin: I had to eat it instead. You have no idea what might be inside there after all.

Kino: And you surely didn’t do that because you´re jealous or anything, right? You’re way too easy to understand, hehe.

Shin: Shut up.

And you shouldn’t accept someone to feed you so recklessly too.

Yui: I’m sorry.

Shin: This is the end of the foretaste. Alright, you can have the remnants.

— Decline it♡

Yui: It’s okay, I can eat it myself.

Kino: Ehh, there’s no need to restrain yourself.

Yui: I’m not restraining myself… I’m just telling you that I can eat it myself!

Kino: Hmm.

In other words, you especially want Shin to have that honour.

Yui: ...Nn

Kino: Both of you are really close after all

Then, what if I’d eat them all now though?

Yui: Ah.

Kino: Fufu, just kidding. Now, Shin.

Shin: Hah? Eh, what?

Kino: What you ask, it seems as if our princess here is trying to tell you to feed her, right?

Yui: Eh!? H-Hey, wait, Kino-kun!? I never even said a single word about that…!

Kino: Your face tells me differently though… haha. Aren’t you completely red right now?

Yui: ...Nn!

(Uhh… I’m so embarrassed, I wish I could disappear already…)

Shin: Kino, can you stop picking up on her already?

Kino: Fiiine.

Shin: Guess you should’ve said that from the beginning then.

Yui: I wasn’t able to… !

Shin: It’s okay, you can eat them now. Look, open your mouth.

Yui: (Shin-kun’s hand is getting closer…)

Shin: ...Nn, your facial expressions are really erratic!

end Choices

Yui: Nom!

(He stuck it in my mouth all of the sudden!?)

Kino: Fufu, seems as if you surprised her.

Shin isn’t the most upfront about his feelings either, hm?

Shin: You’re being so noisy each and every time!

Yui: Nn… hm! That was delicious… !

(Ruki-kun’s food was really delicious, but Reiji-san’s food is also truly amazing...)

Kino: Ahh, it’s stuck around your mouth because you suddenly were fed with it without warning, right?

Yui: Eh!

Kino: C’mon, stay still.

Yui: Ehh!?

(He wiped my mouth… and his face is so close…)

Kino: Your lips are quite soft, y’know?

Yui: ...Nn!!

Kino: Ouch.

Shin: Hey, get away!

Yui: Shin-kun…

(That really surprised me…)

Shin: Good grief, didn’t I tell you to get your behavior together already… ?

I’m not allowing you to touch Yui in any way whatsoever.

Kino: Oh no, I’m trembling already.

Shin: ...If someone else were to touch what belongs to you, you’d obviously get angry as well.

Kino: Fufu, maybe. But to me, you seem to be really nervous about something else instead, am I right?

Shin: Hah?

Kino: You should already know that yourself, but Violet is the only mansion left now. And we’ll raid that one tomorrow.

Shin: ...Nn!

Yui: (Violet’s mansion, huh? So that means…)

Kino: Yeah, that’s the mansion where your brother, Carla, is in. And because of that you’ve been acting all irritated, am I right?

Shin: That’s not particularly the case though. I only felt like that because you started touching her. That’s about it.

Kino: Hmm.

Shin: If you like, I can get you to understand my strength? Even if I forgot things at the beginning, I’m still a founder.

Kino: Yes, Yes. Cut it with the grim face already. In the meantime I’ll head outside for a moment to cool down my head then.

*Kino leaves*

Shin: Haa...

Yui: Shin-kun?

Shin: Hey, you...

Yui: Eh?

*Shin pushes Yui over*

Yui: Kyaa!?

Shin-kun? What is it?

Shin: What a mess that was. What was that about earlier?

Yui: Earlier, you say… ?

Shin: Are you pretending to not know now? Or is it just that you want to make me angry on purpose?

Yui: That’s not true… !

Shin: Hmm. —But didn’t you feel happy when being approached by Kino?

Yui: I was not happy… !

Shin: Here...

Yui: (—He’s touching my lips)

Shin: They were touched without my permission. I’ll have to disinfect them, Nn...

Yui: Eh!? Wait, hmm… !

Shin: Nn, haa… hey, don’t let any other men, except me, touch you as carelessly as that ever again.

There is no such thing as me allowing that to happen once more.

Yui: Yes... I’m really sorry ...

(—Seems as if he got jealous because of that… I feel guilty for making him feel like that… but I also feel my heart beating faster)

Shin: It’s no good if you have contact with a stingy person like that.

Yui: I know. I’ll only keep them to Shin-kun now.

(To be honest, I secretly really wish for him to embrace me closely now…)

Shin: What? Why are you suddenly clinging onto me?

Yui: Because I want you to believe in what I said.

(Ah… Shin-kun tightly hugged me back…)

Shin: You’re so fragile… I feel as if I’d hug you tightly, you’d end up dying.

Yui: That’s not true. I won’t die because of that.

Shin: Promise me you won’t. I wouldn’t want to see you dying because of me like that.

Yui: I promise.

(Was that… my anxiety talking? That might be because of the various things that happened so far...)

—Even if you’ll hug me all tightly, I promise I won’t die...

(I want you to hug me even stronger — Because like this I could feel Shin-kun’s heartbeat even closer…)

Shin: ...Perhaps just hugging you won’t stop me feeling grieved.

Yui: Eh?

Shin: I want you to give me your blood...

Yui: Ah...

(Shin-kun’s fangs are already at the edge of my neck…)

Shin: Nn… Hmm...

Yui: (Hmm… my body feels somewhat hot now… but the feeling is not too bad… I guess…)

Hmm, Ah… Nn—

(Oh god, I think I let my voice out… But—)

Shin: ...Say, did your self-control fail and led you to put out your voice?

Yui: ...T-That was… because I’m embarrassed...

Shin: If you can’t endure it, then let me hear your voice more

Yui: ...Nn

Shin: Let only me hear that seductive voice you can make.

Haa… Nn… Nn...

Yui: Ah… Ahh…

Shin: Nn… yes… like that...

Yui: Ah… Nn...

Shin: Ngh… all I can smell is that delicious blood of yours… Hmm… !

Yui: ...Nn

(All Shin-kun does right now is making my head feel all hot… and that does make me feel a little pained…)

[flyawayrachel]

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

[jossambird]

This Soul Of Mine PT 4

Main Incubus Otto x Reader (Incubus Axel and Oscar x Reader in later parts!)

18+ (also in later parts)

(Mentions of Rape but only passing, as Incubus are Male Demons who feed off sex, most of them are NOT kind Swedes.)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

After a few moments spent together in silence petting the little cat in Otto’s arms, a man came out of the house along with Oscar. The unknown man’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, frowning deeply as Oscar seemed to whisper to him.

“I am Axel.” He roughly stated as he kept your gaze, accent thick. You nodded, trying to smile but too overwhelmed to. The wind blew around you, the silence practically deafening as he seemed to stare into your soul.

“I am Y/N-“

“Yes I know, your name was on the cookie box.” He cut you off, sounding irritated and headed back inside with Oscar, leaving only the screen door open.

“Sorry, he is wary of.. new people.” Otto whispered, a small smirk appearing on his lips as you both heard Axel huff loudly inside the home. Together, you sat on their front porch, petting the little bundle of fur before it demanded to be put down, running away quickly.

“I... May I ask a favor of you..?” You asked Otto, voice silent as to not let his brothers hear you. Judging by the way you saw them slightly turn their heads though, Super Hearing was also probably an Incubus power.

You felt bad asking this of him, it wasn’t his job... But he had imprinted on you, hadn’t he? Laid claim to you accidentally, just as The Handler had said. You were now his, and he yours, surely that meant something.

Your slight pinpricks of worry reached his nose, followed by embarrassment and hope. Hope?

“Yes, of course.” Otto whispered back, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smell of relief you exuded, so much so that he had to look away, eyes turning inside to catch both Oscar and Axel watching out of anticipation.

“Would you mind accompanying me to church after tomorrow? It would not be for long, I... I need to deliver something, but I dont feel comfortable going alone.” You answered, wondering if he could sense that you were hiding something from him.

Could Incubi also read minds, just as their female Ruler had? Was that simply a Succubus power? God, as soon as you got home, you were going to write all of this down.

It was obvious you were hiding something from him, but as he took in the delicious scent of your emotions, Otto knew it wasn’t anything malicious. Your worry and hope outshined anything else, the sweet mixture making his insides burn, feeling the sudden need to comfort you.

It was a mistake to reach out, to touch you, hand placed on your forearm. The moment he did, mouth open to answer, the sharp dangerous smell of arousal waifed off of you, calling to him, your surprise mixing with it as he retracted his hand. Otto’s mind reeled as he tried to recover, senses on fire, barely registering that you had accidentally projected some of your emotions onto him in that moment.

“I will walk you home.” Axel declared, scaring you as he appeared behind you, gloved hand settling on your shoulder to lift you and turn you away from his stunned brother. You frowned, trying to turn to say goodbye to the two other brothers but couldn’t, Axel’s rough hold veering you out the yard and into the street and cold night, his gray eyes shining as he watched you.

“I know that you know.” He stated as he walked alongside you, momentarily shutting his senses off as to avoid your whirlwind of emotions that you visibly had no control over whatsoever. Mortals, such incapable beings. He didn’t miss the way your head snapped back to him, watching him as you walked together.

“My brothers are young, a hint of stupid even, so they cannot tell, but I can. You fraternized with her, sat with her. You smell of her cigarettes.” He said after a moment passed, coming at a standstill. You werent Otto’s soulmate, you were working for The Handler, plotting, cruel, acting kind to get close to his poor unsuspecting brother. He wanted to lash out, tell you how stupid you were-

The scent of pure unadulterated relief flooded his senses out of nowhere as you turned to him, eyes wide open as you gasped deeply, looking at him in surprise.

“Oh god, thank goodness! You have no idea how relieved I am to know that you know, she absolutely scared the life out of me! She arrived at the Church and sat right beside me!” You exclaimed, hands flying to your face to hide from him, fearing he was about to kill you-

“You- Your being honest...” Axel said, tone sounding more uncertain then he had ever been in his life, finding himself out of his depth at your honest and truthful answer. Something within his chest hurt, a sharp and twisted pain, lighting his senses on fire. It felt like the first breath of fresh air after being held under water for ages, wind filling his lungs as he breathed in slowly. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it; you knew they were demons? Incubi, to be specific, and yet you stayed either way?

“Why would you fraternize with demons, demons that rape, harm pretty little women like you... who lure unsuspecting women out in parks at night, only to eat their throat out?” Axel stated, trying to make you see just what they were, the dangers that they brought, what they truly were, but as he went on, he felt more drained, losing whatever edge he hoped to exude out to you.

He hated you, hated that a mere mortal like you were making him regret his choices, making him regret what he was as he saw the gentle pure kindness in your eyes. Most of all, he hated that you, you of all people, a pretty little church goer, made him regret being born an Incubus. For the first time in all of his existence, a mortal, a human, knew what he was, and stayed, showing him the same exact kindness as before.

“Wow, with a facial expression as flat as that, Im really trembling in my boots.” You smirked at him, hand lifting to push your hair back behind your ear as the wind blew around the both of you, trees swaying in the wind. A vile putrid stench filled the air for a moment and made him forget the retort that had been on his tongue, nearly making him gag as the scent filled his senses. What was that?

“Do that again.” Axel whispered out harshly, eyes sharply observing you critically as you stopped smiling.

“Do what again?” You asked, eyes wide, breath catching in your throat as he came closer, face moving towards you as if to smell you.

“Place your hair behind your ear again, there is something... unclean on you, something The Handler must have implanted on you, I can smell it wafting into the air around you.” Axel said before recoiling sharply as you lifted your arm, your soft gaze turning worried as you watched him openly gag, the noise making the nerves inside of you burst.

“Oh my god Axel, are you okay!? Im so sorry!” You asked, stepping away from him to leave him some room but halting as his arm shot out, grabbing ahold of your wrist-

Axel froze as foul images assaulted his senses, the scent overpowering him. He remained unmoving though, feeling it too important of a vision to pull back, pull away. You, the mere human mortal, were too important, he corrected himself, heart beating faster as he watched a Priest, supposedly a man of God, jerking himself off, your dainty little bracelet in his hand. Axel watched with a feeling of violation as the priest finished himself off and pocketed the bracelet, only to give it to you later that day at the end of a sermon. The man had tainted it, placed his unholy hands on it, coated with-

“Take it off.” Axel grunted as he pulled away, emotions running amok inside of him like a hurricane in an open field, ripping and destroying everything in its path. The delicate scent of your hesitation reached him, and he almost sighed out of joy at the sheer difference of weight your scent had over the bracelets filthy smell, making him forget the Priest’s disgusting act.

“If you can trust me, no matter how small, please, trust me now Y/N.” He added, eyes locking onto yours. It was a stretch Axel told himself, knowing he wasn’t in any position to demand anything of you after accusing you of potentially betraying them with little proof.

Nothing in this world had ever brought him ecstasy, nothing had ever made his dead heart beat, and yet here you were, ripping the bracelet off and throwing it into the woods behind you; the mere sight of your trust made his blood roil pleasantly under his skin, fingertips aching to touch you.

Had this been exactly what Otto had felt the first time he had touched you? Otto had been frugal on the details of his awakened state of mind, but was touch truly the key? It had to be, he had never felt a more pressing need to touch a human, anyone, anything, YOU, more then Axel did right now, invisible Incubus tail fidgeting back and forth out of confusion.

“Are you alright?” You asked again, noticing how far his gaze seemed, reminded suddenly of Otto’s expression the first time he had laid his hand on you. Axel breathed in sharply as you came closer, eyes connecting with your own. His gray-blue eyes shined in the moonlight, platinum blond hair reminding you of fresh snow.

You didn’t know what Father James’ bracelet had, or what magic was on it, but you trusted Axel.

“Y/N... If I asked you to no longer visit the Priest alone, would you respect my judgement?” Axel whispered softly as he lifted his hand, wanting to pushing your hair once more behind your ear but couldn’t. He watched you, watched as the wheels turned within your mind, and watched with greed as you bit your lip softly.

He had always seen female lovers do it, biting their lips to keep themselves from making sound, or out of desire, and it had never done anything for him. Yet here he stood, hand lowering to his side once more, insides churning in pure delight at the sight of your teeth sinking into your lower lip softly. The sweet scent of your surprise at his question curled around you, patiently allowing you to think before answering him.

You wondered if Axel had heard you speak to Otto earlier or if he had taken an educated guess. Did he also have powers like their Ruler did? He visibly had Super Hearing, but the was for another day to think about.

“You know, earlier at your home, I thought you hated me. But I would almost say you have a soft spot for me Axel, seeing how accommodating you are, walking me home.” You said, changing the subject as you felt anxiety rise up your spine with a vicious need. Axel hummed in answer, eyes squinting as he regarded you.

“You need not answer me, but please, next time, ask my poor simpleton of a Brother to accompany you.” He spoke, smiling a bit as you nodded and continued your walk home, silence reigning over the both of you the rest of the way.

——

The walk back home was torturous for Axel, mind and heart fighting, intelligence trying to reign victorious over these... feelings, emotions. Useless things, really.

Yet... he understood, understood why Otto had been acting irrationally. Nothing seemed to make sense as he had watched you wave goodbye to him from your front door, senses telling him to leave but.. body roaring to go knock on your door, to ask for permission to enter and touch you, touch your cheeks and run his lips against your throat. Axel wanted to feel your pulse under his fingertips, feel the fleeting human life inside you, and to feel you, just you, touching him back out of your own volition, not like the humans affected by his natural Pheromones.

Axel’s feet came to a sudden stop, previous inner thoughts reminding him just what he was: A Demon. An Incubus, a male demon that sought to impregnate human women, feeding off their souls and lives. He was everything your kind feared, everything they had nightmares about, everything human children cried about.

Slowly yet quickly, the thought came crashing down on him that this, all of these emotions he was feeling, all of these humanly soft thoughts, all of these stupid fantasies could never happen.

Never should he touch your cheeks, and run his lips along your throat. Never should he feel your pulse under his fingertips.

Never, under any circumstances, should he ever feel your touch, from this moment on. If he did, Axel knew he would fail, knew he would throw everything to the wind, fairytales and folktales be damned.

If you touched him, Axel knew he would follow you until the end of the Earth.

[kkeidawrites]

Her.

Part 5! Enjoy!

The next day, that afternoon, Alucard made his way to the planned meeting spot by the tree with the large red streak in the middle.

An oak tree that has been here for the last five hundred years but, where it obtained the streak was a mystery. His father told him that during his younger days as he traveled the world, he would often pass that tree to see how long it would hold up.

And fun fact, this was where he and Alia had first met so, this would be the perfect time to tell her about who he really was. After putting it off for the past couple weeks it finally weighed in his mind that he should tell her right away instead of suffering with the idea of Alia turning away in fear from who he is.

He had to take that chance. She deserved to know, from how close they had become, he needed to be completely honest with her as she has done with him.

However, something about today made him feel odd. This weird feeling in his gut was telling him that something was wrong. Particularly Alia.

‘It’s probably nothing. Perhaps I am just nervous.’ He thought.

Once he made it to the old oak tree, he leaned against the side of the tree and waited patiently for the other attendee of the meet.

He was a bit nervous and his rushing thoughts of the different scenarios of how she would react wasn’t helping either.

The night before he was practicing on how he would bring it up and each one ended up with him turning down the idea and ultimately making the motion that she would freak out anyway when she found out he was a vampire.

Sighing, Alucard leaned his head against the bark of the tree and stared into the wilting leaves.

‘God, she’s going to hate me.’ He thought.

The hand that was sitting on the hilt of his sword clenched the handle.

‘No.’ He thought.

Suddenly straighting his back, Alucard frowned, he was not going to be a coward this time.

‘I won’t back down this time. Not when we are so close.’

No way was he going to back out during this opportunity and if she didn’t like what he had to tell her then all he can do is take it like a man.

‘When she gets here, I’ll tell it to her straight.’ He affirmed and continued to wait.

Four hours later

Alright, something was wrong here. The sun was setting over the horizon and still no fairy in sight. Alia, albeit, was always late whenever they met somewhere; she says that the way he gives her directions to where they are supposed to meet is to blame for why she is constantly late.

‘Where could she be? I hope she hasn’t become lost again.’ He thought.

Alucard chuckled at the thought of her maybe being lost once again. He would go out and find her probably two miles away from where they were supposed to meet and the two would return to their spot to hang out for the day.

But, this time something felt really wrong. The weird feeling returned and this time they were telling him that it was very bad.

The sound of bushes being rattled made the golden haired man turn in the direction of the noise and what came running out was two children who were familiar to Alucard.

It was Samuel and Desiana, Alia’s niece and nephew. Their clothes were ripped and they had dirt all over their bodies. Desiana was riding on her brother’s back as she had both her arms and legs wrapped around his waist. Her head was shoved so deep in his back you would think his back would open up and swallow her.

“Alucard!” Samuel cries out in relief.

The dhampir approaches them quickly and knelt down in front of Samuel. Placing his hands on the panting boy’s shoulders, Alucard gave him his undivided attention.

“Samuel, what’s happened? Where is Alia?” Alucard questions.

“Strange men -pant- -pant- came to the house -pant- -pant-destroyed everything! They took Auntie -pant- she told us to run! -pant- -pant- you gotta help her!” He wheezed out to the older man.

Alucard’s worst fears came to play and he looked towards where they had come from then turns back to Samuel.

“I will find your aunt, but, you must get to safety first.” He tells Samuel who finally caught his breath and looked confused by his words.

“But, the only place I knew in these woods are Auntie’s house. Where would we go?” He asked.

“I will take you to my home. You will be safe there until, I return with your aunt.” Alucard couldn’t take them to the village, they would only turn a blind eye to them.

“But-”

“Big brother.” Desiana’s little voice made the older two look back to see Desiana peaking one eye open from her brother’s back to stare dazed at the forest.

Her eyes were hollowed with any emotion and Alucard thought he would never see Desiana or any child of that matter do such a thing like that.

“I wanna go to the prince’s castle. Can we big brother? Please?” She begs and Samuel sighs as she turns to answer Alucard’s questionable gaze.

“Those men...they tried to kill her, but Auntie stopped them in time and let them take what they came for.” Samuel said solemnly.

“What were they after?” Alucard asks.

Samuel gulps and bows his head.

“They were after Auntie.” Samuel confesses and Alucard frowned.

“Come, we must head to my home and there I will head out to find your aunt.” He told Samuel who nods.

Guiding to his home, Alucard’s mind was raving on how he was going to find Alia. Whomever these people are, they were too smart and quick with how they kidnapped her.

As they approached the castle, Samuel suddenly stopped to look at the castle in awe and fear. The place was literally looming in darkness and it was not even night time yet.

This new place sent chills down his back and Samuel looked to Alucard who was already walking up the stairs.

The golden haired man noticed that the boy had stopped following him and turned to see that he was hesitant to even make one step on the stairwell.

Walking back down, Alucard stood next to the trembling boy and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm himself.

“No need to be afraid of this place. I promise that no harm will come to you or your sister.” He promises.

“You sure?” Samuel asked still unconvinced.

Alucard nods.

“I swear it.” He tells the boy and Samuel took a deep breath and readjusted his sister’s grip on his shoulders then assended the stairs. Alucard follows and the large doors open for the three.

As they entered the main hall, Lisa made her appearance with a book in her hand, no doubt a medical one and looked up to see her son.

She smiles at him and walks over to properly greet him.

“Welcome home, my son. Did you enjoy your time with...Alia...” Her words trailed off as she noticed two children standing behind the tall man, hiding behind his figure.

“Mother, this is Samuel and Desiana. They are Alia’s niece and nephew.” He tells her and Lisa moved to his side to get a better view of the two children.

Samuel pressed deeper in Alucard’s side to hide he and his sister from the woman whose resemblance to the older man was uncanny.

“Adrian, what’s going on?” She asked her son.

“Mother, I must know where Father is. I will explain everything once I have him join us. For now, is there a possibility that these two can stay in a guest room?” He asked her.

Lisa gives him a smile and nods.

“Yes, I will escort them to one of the guest rooms, your father is in his study although I told him that he needs to take it easy, working too much will even kill a vampire.” Her sudden confession made Alucard’s eyes widen and so did Samuel’s.

“Mother!” He hissed as Lisa put a hand over her mouth at her mistake.

“Y-You’re a vampire?!” Samuel asked and Alucard turns to him, his brain trying to come up with a lie to appease the boy.

“No! That is just an ongoing joke that my mother says-”

“That’s so cool!” Samuel’s outburst startled both older man and woman.

“You mean...you’re not afraid of the fact that I am a vampire, well half anyway?” Alucard asked astonished.

“What? Are you seriously half vampire! That’s even cooler and your dad is a vampire too?! Can we meet him?” Samuel was suddenly estatic about the news and Alucard felt his self confidence boost a bit more.

Lisa crouches down to Samuel’s level and the boy suddenly felt a little afraid again by the stranger being so close to him.

“Why don’t we set you both in a room for now, hm? I’m sure your sister would like a place to sleep.” Lisa butts in and Samuel was still a bit unsure about her.

He looks to Alucard for his approval and the dhampir nods to him.

“Go, my mother will take good care of you, while I’m away. Besides,” Alucard bends over to the boy with a smile.

“You still have to protect your little sister.” Alucard says and Samuel nods as he looks at Lisa who smiles again and stands to her feet once more.

“Right then, follow me, and I’ll show you where you can lay down your sister.” Lisa tells him and the Samuel follows close to her, jogging up to her side to keep up with her.

Alucard makes his way to his father’s study and the heavy brown door that led inside was closed. Raising a fist, he knocked twice and the sound of his father’s approval to come in rumbled from inside.

Alucard came in his father’s study with pep to his step and Dracula looked up at his son to see that he was distraught about something.

“Son, whatever is the matter?” The infamous Dracula asks. His black cloak was settled on the back of his chair as he looked to be deep in paperwork.

“Alia has been kidnapped.” Alucard says frowning.

“By whom?” Dracula questions.

“I don’t know but, whomever they are they were there for something at her house.” Alucard began to pace in front of the door.

“Could it have been the church?” Dracula’s tone was suddenly dark. Alucard’s frown deepens.

“I cannot tell as of yet but, perhaps they may have had a part in this.” Alucard says. His right hand gripped the handle of his sword in anger.

“Alia had the men take her instead of her niece, and now, both her niece and nephew are staying in one of the guest rooms.” Alucard says.

“Then you must go to her house and investigate what has happened. Perhaps you will find a clue.” Dracula suggests and Alucard’s fury turns to his father.

“I don’t have time to investigate! Alia could be hurt or worse! I don’t have time to sit around and play ‘who done it’!” He roars to his father.

“Charging in and attacking isn’t going to solve anything either! Adrian, whomever, took her had to think smart and be very precise about her next move and when the next time that she would be alone at home. You have to be rational about this.” Dracula tells his son.

Lisa had stepped into the study and moved to stand by her husband as the two watched their infuriated son.

Alucard then sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face in frustration. He felt his eyes begin to mist and he looked up at his parents, distraught and worry written all over his face.

“Don’t either of you see, I want to help her as quickly as I can because...” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“It’s because I love her.” Alucard confessed to his parents who smiled sadly.

Dracula stood from his place behind his desk and walked over to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, a determined look on his face.

“And we will find her, my son.”

“But, how?” Alucard asked, his whole demeanor sad.

“We will use a tool that I have not used since I was human. A distance mirror.” He tells his son.

End of Part 5

1// 2// 3// 4// 5// 6// 7// 8// Bonus!!

[duskodair]

further Noel lore, by popular demand (with the old bc why not)

The one constant in her life has always been him. One of them was born first, but they're not sure which. Names don't stick to them. Dozens of monikers have come and passed them by. They barely use names for one another, so it doesn't matter. They know vaguely which order the children they might have once been were born and named, but neither of them actually know to which of them each name belongs.

They come to the orphanage as a pair of red headed infants, identical and inseparable. Among the other children, they are easily lost in the muddle. They grow up holding hands and answer to both names. They come to answer to others as well, as staff members forget and rename them from the pool of other children.

The orphanage is a loveless place. They learn of the distant love of a God who has forsaken them from nuns who have no time for them. They learn to walk holding hands and make their own language to whisper the secrets they learn from watching places that the convent do not want them to see.

The nuns can't keep the right names pinned to the right child and by the time they leave the orphanage, their papers are muddled and merged, inseparable in their scarcity. At fourteen, they do honest work for a few months, pulling in a pitiful wage between them. They answer to the names that the nuns told them they were given as decide that it's not for them.

Knowing their letters, at least, gets them into interesting places. Gossip slips by them. They come home with stories and whispers of crimes committed in distant towns. There's nothing truly behind it, but it intrigues them.

They leave the town they were raised in with the collection money for the convent's charity children. They never saw any of it whilst they were there, so they reckon it's theirs to take.

They do it sensible, though, no grand heist and sudden exit. One day two nobodies walk the streets and the next they are gone, notice properly given and a forwarding address passed along to those it may concern. Perhaps they go where they say they are going, perhaps they do not. The convent only realises the theft far later than it could be solved. And by that point, they are dust on the plains.

'New town, new names' is their policy. It gives them something to do on their journeys. Their childhood gives them a wealth of options as they work their way through the Good Book. She chars for a family as Leah, subtly learning to mimic the habits of those born into money as she beats dust out of the curtains. As Mary she is a gentle lady, down on her luck, willing to watch the children.

She never does a con without him. It starts with petty theft, enough to tide them over. But they grow confident as the years pass, and still the sheriffs fail to put out a bounty for names they've left behind.

Both of them claim to do the most work in their enterprise. She scoffs and says he's far too distracted by pretty stable boys and saloon lasses for his case to be true. He argues that she's too busy staring at her own reflection in things to possibly be doing the most work.

She kicks him, out of principle, before grinning. They're nearly done with this town. Regretfully, they're about to have a family emergency and the gentle seamstress' assistant and the errand boy will have to leave. It will be a while before anybody notices that old Mr McCoy hasn't been seen in a while. Well, perhaps the young ladies he used to shout at might notice, but the twins don't think they'll miss him.

Noel swings out her legs one last time before depositing them in Jonah's lap. She leans back as she considers the best way for Miss Miranda DuVal to break her incoming family crisis to her employer to potentially receive offerings of sympathy. In the last town she'd received a lovely pair of hand me down boots. She's hoping to do much better here, and well, there's some lovely stuff in the Atkinsons' unpaid tab.

The breeze picks up a little. Nothing like a peaceful walk and a casual picnic to enjoy their last day in this town. She looks away from the disappointing straggle of houses that make up the town, towards her brother. He's lying down in the prairie grass, staring up at the passing clouds. She thinks he's probably thinking about a barmaid again. He's got that look on his face.

She rips up a bit of grass and tosses it at him, 'keep your raunchy thoughts off your face. I don't want to know'

He tosses the grass back at her, 'I can do what I please. It's my own bleedin face'

With that, he rises, pushing her legs from his lap.

'Now come along, sister dearest, I'm sure we are missed. I must see if Old Man Thomas needs any more of those crates lifting, and I'm sure you have embroidery to do'

She lets him read her disdain before rising and schooling her features into the amiable Miss DuVal. 'Of course, brother, shall we go, then?'

She takes his arm and they head back to finish the performance before the appointed hour of departure. They make their arrangements and say their goodbyes. Jonah receives his kisses and Noel her tea gown.

On the road they pick new names, write a new story. When she stumbles in a gopher hole, he christens her Grace. She makes a hand gesture that the nuns certainly would not have approved of and accepts the name.

Town after town they pass through, weaving their way West, across the country. Their cons become bigger and grander and their budget grows.

For all their griping, they make an excellent team, she thinks, as he combs out her hair for her next performance. Their plan is to land a quiet jackpot in the town of Danser. It's been in their sights for a while, a little passing place, irrelevant. Perfect.

They have a few weeks to go before they arrive, appearances to make along the road. They call themselves Underwood for the branch that Jonah stumbles into as he stumbles around their camp after dark. They turn the branch into a lumber business and laud their wealth to one another.

Noel laughs into the fire as she weaves stories of their loving Papa, whose only desire in life is to see his daughter married off to a reputable man. Jonah grins as he fleshes out the tragedy of their gentle mother, taken too soon.

At least, Noel thinks, she won't have to wear the fashion of a widow too long, as Jonah will, of course, have to return her to the loving safety of her father, if there is nobody left in Danser to provide. She checks the Derringer strapped to her thigh and consigns her new life story to memory. Yes, she thinks, Noel will work as a name for a while.

______

Danser is quiet the day the Underwoods ride into town. On the surface, they bring little change, just a business deal and a wife for the wealthy Mr Tobias Lloyd. Noel rides into town as a bartering token for her family's lumber business, a symbol of an alliance sealed.

Jonah Underwood brings her into town, red hair tousled in the wind as the twins drive, laughing, down the dust scattered road. He's going to stay in Danser as she gets settled.

He'll probably stay longer than expected, loath to leave her. They've never been more than a week apart throughout their short lives. Where she goes, he follows, but this time, he cannot.

Noel is prepared, she thinks, for a husband. Her trunk is packed with all her worldly possessions and the wood of the carriage is steady under her hands.

The town spreads before her, barely a stopping point out from the city. Home, it seems, now. She's a long way from Tennessee. She's a long way from their smaller cons. Jonah meets her eyes. They're ready.

Her fingers dust over the derringer that she carries strapped to her thigh. She smiles. The plan is simple. She can do it. Jonah guides the horses forward into town, nodding to the old man on his stoop outside the general store, before heading to the Emerald Hotel.

She holds her head high as Jonah makes arrangements. The role is easy, she smiles and nods and watches. Noel is quiet and demure, but ever watchful, cataloguing her new neighbours. She plays naive, batting doe eyes at passers by, luring people in to speak with them.

They spend a day getting settled, researching, making appearances. They go to church, make nice. They start tabs and pay them off, respectable like, with the money of dead men. They find out about Mr Lloyd. He's wealthy and removed, just their type. His employees dislike him, after a few drinks, and when Jonah reports back, so does she.

She is all smiles, however, when Jonah presents her with promises of lumber money. She twirls the loose curls that soften her cheeks around a finger, and in that motion, she has him. Soon the hair around her finger becomes a ring and she becomes a wife.

Tobias Lloyd is, fundamentally, a disappointing husband. Everything he tries to teach her, she already knows, and quite frankly, he's barely competent. He tries to run her in circles but his fall short of the ones she's running around him.

Jonah rides between Danser and the city, keeping the financial side of the con running as Noel pushes her hands into the running of the household. She takes control, bringing home arsenic for cleaning and for rats.

She makes appearances with her husband in the Emerald Hotel, a doting wife out for coffee. She wears fine gowns and resists gossip, staying upstanding, but never cold. She likes to think that she's making her mark in the town, becoming known. If she is, she's doing her job properly, settling her character witnesses.

Everything is going perfectly until it isn't. Jonah slips. Noel doesn't even discover how until it is too late and the gunfight is lost and Jonah is bleeding out in her arms, his tab with God unsettled and their victory bleeding away.

She buries him in the churchyard, demure and sweet, watching the stone with the wrong name mark her brother's place. Later, she rides out and screams, hands still stained red with his blood. She remembers his unsettled tab and sets out to match it, so that one day she can join him once more.

She returns to town and puts on her gloves. Tobias loves her, she is the perfect wife, so attentive to his bouts of illness and so concerned.

Noel forms the perfect cover, she plays her part perfectly. With a little sacrifice, she covers for Jonah's slip. She helps collect funds for the new church floor, embroidering kerchiefs with dainty patterns for the pastor to sell. The new pastor admires her faith, he smiles and says one day she'll see heaven. She does her best to ensure that won't be so.

Tobias grows sicker and sicker and Noel worries more and more. At least, in public. Old Man German at the store grows tired of her asking after medicine. There is never any coming in.

Calling for the Doc is a risk, but a necessary one. Fortunately, it pays off, he patiently assures her that he's not a doctor and he cannot cure her husband. He's the best Danser has, however, and all her husband will see. She grows fond of him on his visits, another respectable alibi and connection for when she is alone.

She forges ties and prepares for widowhood. She ties her hair up neat and slips into the saloon instead of the hotel on a Friday afternoon, seeking the Doc, looking to keep herself in his mind. She's going to need a new husband soon, anyway, and it's always a good idea to plan ahead.