#no moving on pookie bear only murder :(

[passiveagressivepoet]

“save yourself, kill them all. then i gave him your home address. how’s the wife?”

hannibal you jealous bitch lmao

[burnin0akleaves]

Here's the draw six fanarts meme I decided to participate in 4 years late

In true burnin0akleaves spirit I didn't ask anyone for requests and just went ahead with all of the characters that have been the most impactful/important to me, so there is a high chance you've seen me draw these guys before.

By the way, unlike the rest of the blorbos here Siyra is an original character and belongs to @nineteen-rats!

Close-ups and rambles under the cut because it's my blog

Ohh the Dark Urge. My latest obsession. I love his design so much, I'm a slut for white/red color schemes, but I feel like it's a double edged sword that takes you out of the horrors he's commiting at the same time?

Durge is supposed to be murder incarnate, someone that does every fucked up thing related to death imaginable; but when you see a giant lizard eating babies or humping corpses, it dulls the effect a bit since you automatically view it as an animalistic act. Dragonborns are obviously a fully sentient humanoid race in-universe; but when the violence you're seeing is already toeing the line between horrifying and hilarious, seeing a scalie doing it just pushes it over the line. I still think it works really well most of the time and I'm very glad that this is the default durge we get! It's just funny to me that when you choose to play as the giant lizard, the dark and disgusting horror story turns into the hilariously edgy bloodfest.

Reminding everyone again that Siyra belongs to @nineteen-rats! I love this man so so so much. I am the Siyra fandom. I am the number one Siyra fanartist. He did nothing wrong and I will defend his every decision. I also hope terrible horrors befall him and that his actions keep him awake for the rest of his life. Pookie bear xoxo

COMING IN WITH THE STEEL CHAIR IT'S WILL TREATY

He is on my mind, always. I don't talk about him as much but he's probably still the fictional character who had the most impact on me as a person.

PATROCLUS! PATROCLUS!!! SIR I'M YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN!!

I got into patrochilles and the Illiad in general thanks to "The Song of Achilles". It was one of the first queer books I got to have in real life and the prose captivated me instantly, I still have it on my shelf. After reading the Illiad itself however, I hate that book so much. I'm sorry it's genuinely beautiful and I get why people like it but I can never forgive that horrible Patroclus characterization after seeing what he was originally like. Achilles too for that matter.

Hades swooped me up into its arms like I was a sick baby bird and nursed me back to health with its portrayal of the two though and for that I am forever grateful. I can't wait for Hades 2, death to Chronos.

God Half-Life is such an important series for me. My dad would let me play through a few levels since I was a child, he grew up with the games, but I REALLY played through the entire series one summer shortly before dad moved out. He was there watching me play most of it and getting to enjoy someone actually translate the game's dialogue for him for the first time.

Gordon may not speak once but I like the hints of his personality we get throughout the games, most importantly from the way Alyx talks to/about him. I have my own characterization of him obviously but I do really think you can get a good understanding of the kind of man he is meant to be in-universe just by paying attention to his surroundings. Also another reason the games were so immersive for me is that I'm just as in love with Alyx as Gordon is. I must have let her get hit only once or twice the entire time just out of how protective I was over her. I'd topple the entire Combine empire just for her hand in marriage. I rewatched the ending of Half Life Alyx recently and cried.

I read the entirety of LOTR in one week in 11th grade, carrying that damn brick of a book everyday to school and back. I'm so glad I did honestly. Frodo and Sam are my important little guys and I find myself going back to them when I need something to calm me down in a way no other series except LOTR can. I've read most of Tolkien's work at this point, but nothing captivated me like those two little hobbits. Everytime I read a bad take about their relationship I sketch them making out.

People liked seeing my drawing process before so here's the original sketch and the little notes I wrote to myself trying to set the mood. I followed like half of them.

[callsign-bunnie]

Wow… I always thought you were inclusive to all fans. Guess not.

Spoilers

I tried to be, and I still try to be to MOST fans, but I have limits and I have lines. I know it's probably been obvious, but I've really drawn back from being socially active in the fandom. I take stands, occasionally, but for the most part, I just block and move on. My block list on tiktok is long, because if I don't like content, I block rather than get upset.

I don't really look at my home page, anymore. Going onto AO3 hits me with so many (niche and specific to me) triggers in a day, that my reason for not reading others' works has shifted from, even though I'm working on managing it, my Dyslexia to just being unable to navigate my own triggers. This isn't anyone's fault, it's mine.

If I'm being honest? My mental health is in the dumpster and while this has a wide variety of reasons, if I can protect it in any way I can, I will. And if this includes having to tell a certain group of fans that they're not welcome on my blog? Unfortunately, that's what has to happen.

I'm not a stranger to fandom wars, as stupid as I think they are, I'm not a stranger to the aggression that happens here. And I have, definitely, been on the other side a few times. My first proper introduction to fandom was Supernatural and FNAF. I STILL deal with seeing posts talking about how a ship I didn't ship is superior to one I do ship for no fucking reason. I understand liking a character, and I understand having villain characters that you still like and love, and I can appreciate the "he's my precious pookie bear and does nothing wrong" mindset to a certain extent.

But I think ignoring Makarov's actions, even if he's a fictional character, even if it's just a game, is ignorant, in today's climate. A prime example of why I cannot get behind it is Russian Terminator. I have... so many reasons I can go through why this man is just awful, but my wife is slightly more educated, so I'll let her take the reigns on that one if she wants. However, he sucks. Objectively. But because he's masked and ripped, I see so many edits of him. So many.

I see people call themselves his "simps" and actively ignore and block those who try to point out his horrific actions and opinions and views and values to them. This man is not a fictional character. He's a real person.

I have always been a huge advocate for "live and let live" in fandom spaces. To an extent that even my wife and I get into arguments over it. My only limit seems to be pedophilia, for personal reasons. And I am not telling you to stop writing Makarov. I'm not even telling you not to find him hot. You can giggle and kick your feet when he "activates your praise kink" in the first mission, I don't care I won't stop you.

But I don't want that in my own space. I protect my peace. This ranges from silly things that just bother me (pricegraves) to big things like this. As my wife stated, Graves committed war crimes. Yes. He killed civilians, and that's inexcusable. But, I feel like this is comparing a passion killing, to systematic murder. Graves would have committed those crimes in any country, but the US. France, England, pretty much any country he could have gotten away with it.

Makarov targeted a country of Arabic people, because he knew about the aggression and islamophobia that exists in the west. He knew that if he pulled some strings a little, he could very easily turn a country just looking for peace into a country of terrorists, in the western media's eyes. This is irredeemable in my eyes.

So, no. I try to be inclusive. Pricegraves fans are still welcome to interact with me. They know by now that I won't write it, I don't really entertain it, and to go to my wife. The same for FarahAlex shippers, and really anyone who ships something on my No-Ship list. (Though please get the memo on that second ship, I'm never gonna budge, I'm sorry.)

I'm sorry if you feel alienated, I know it probably sucks. Trust me, I understand. But, unfortunately, I want to protect my peace, and I want my blog to continue to be my own safe space.

Thank you for understanding.

[borathae]

Chapter 7

are we about to see his art collection or his "art collection" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

sneaking around is fun keke no wonder she is all excited and giddy haha cutie pie

Stop laughing”, Taehyung warns quietly, looking over his shoulder. He carries fondness in his eyes and a mischievous grin on his lips. stop IM GONE IM SIMPING IM A PUDDLE

NO UR A MENACE FUCKER DECIDES TO TICKLE ME TO STOP MAKINGME LAUGH NOPE watch my ass fall down the stairs and wake the whole house up

“You’re beyond adorable."

I told my familiar to light the candles your WHAT????

Taehyung is thinking into the future. THATS I WHAT THOUGHT TOO YIPPEEE

other than the rest of the house - which reminds you more of a museum than a home - his wing looks like a home. Bear in mind it was still a very impressive - and royal - home, but it gave you a homely feeling with its burgundy red walls and hardworking radiators. ooh red walls, they feel cozy/warm and very royal vibes

He is already wearing fur slippers HOW DID HE DO THAT dudes faster than flash

Why ruin your home with the dirt of outside? FR 💯

HE TOOK OFF OUR SHOES AAAH and TOUCHED OUR ANKLES THEY BOTH ARE FOR THE COBBLESTONES

They are matching with his UWU, im imagining cat slippers its too funny

You have the prettiest of ankles, my sweetest me to hobi and kook

ALSO HOW MANY ANKLES DID U SEE MY MAN (ik he saw a lot considering he is ancient lol)

Tall windows let in the moonlight from the left, illuminating the paintings on his walls that sounds extra cozy, i want to put a fluffy blanket on my shoulders

“Doesn’t he? It’s the reason why I purchased it”, he says excitedly. 👀 u sure about that?? 👀 did he get kneller to paint it for him 👀👀you sure that this isn’t like your great great great grandfather BABY CONNECT THE DOTS

come now I want to show you something else. HE CHANGED THE SUBJECT

Oh no”, you chuckle, “he just likes to show off.” still cool cousin kudos to him

“Three years? Holy cow and I can’t even work on an essay for twenty minutes without feeling the need to procrastinate.” WOW TAEHYUNG DAMN THATS SICK also u didnt need to call me out like that i-

Delicate roses climb up a marble pillar thats amazing i love murals

"A very long time." edward cullen who

Shall I show you something else too?” he asks quietly. aww my cute lil pookie go ahead why so nervous, smooches the fuck out of nervousness😭

the description of him playing violin gave me goosebumps and its 33C here. why am i slightly teared up

THERES A SECRET DOOR OMG IM GONNA PLAY BARBIE AND THE SECRET DOOR THERE FUCK THIS IS SOO CUTE AAAH

Gosh you own so many cool things.” ik he is soo cool, he can totally murder me on the stairs

Do you have your secret stack of drugs up there?” you joke, dont what if he is a mafia boss???? also he is about to throw you off the top 😭 yeet

Okay yep, holy cow. This is better than drugs FR OCTAGON SHAPED ROOM ARE THE BEST, my uncle's living room is like that and its amazing to play "find the object with hints" type games

if I could marry one room it would be this one TAE MOVE SHE IS MINE WE ARE MEANT TO BE MARRIED wait tae dont move, we can be a throuple

people were right, namjoon copied love yourself album FROM SIR KIM TAE-ITH HYUNGWILL THE THIRD, love thyself

His skin is glowing silver again, like water when it reflects the moon at night or snow when the sunlight hits it just right. singularity performances *shudders

You are the only person who knows this room exists.” SAY WHAT *faints

Why did you paint the stars?” THAT TOO FOR 3 YEARS AND HE THOUGHT OF IT AS HELL, his therapist will need a therapist

NAUR THE ICE CREAM NO SHE JUST TOLD U NOT TO hes such a cute lil shit i cant

oh the trying to be invisible, i do that too, i keep doing that for half of an academic year, and all that time i just vibecheck everyone and the other half, i slowly come out of the shell (not much tho lol) that way i dont miss anyone or does anyone miss me and they cant hurt me too

this chapter was so cute, fluffy and cozy and they both speaking more about themselves aah its sooo good. and i loved his home/wing. the description of the place was just great i could feel the bed and the stars

byee 💜💜❤️❤️

This ask was a ghost ask on my computer 😶 like I saw that you sent me an ask in my notifs and I could open it on mobile, but it was non existant on my laptop HFHADHSF help

sneaking around is fun keke no wonder she is all excited and giddy haha cutie pie

no but they're so cute no joke 🥺

I told my familiar to light the candles your WHAT????

he's just a rich lil spoiled vampire

Taehyung is thinking into the future. THATS I WHAT THOUGHT TOO YIPPEEE

EHEHEH <3

other than the rest of the house - which reminds you more of a museum than a home - his wing looks like a home. Bear in mind it was still a very impressive - and royal - home, but it gave you a homely feeling with its burgundy red walls and hardworking radiators. ooh red walls, they feel cozy/warm and very royal vibes

I agree YES 🥺

HE TOOK OFF OUR SHOES AAAH and TOUCHED OUR ANKLES THEY BOTH ARE FOR THE COBBLESTONES

he is so fucking HOT

You have the prettiest of ankles, my sweetest me to hobi and kook

I'm obsessed with their ankles 😶 it's the Dom in me 😶

ALSO HOW MANY ANKLES DID U SEE MY MAN (ik he saw a lot considering he is ancient lol)

imagine all the ankles he had resting on his shoulders 😶

Delicate roses climb up a marble pillar thats amazing i love murals

NO BUT ME TOO 😭 I wanna paint a forest mural on my bedroom wall, but I'm too scared to mess up

Shall I show you something else too?” he asks quietly. aww my cute lil pookie go ahead why so nervous, smooches the fuck out of nervousness😭

he's just a lil pookie <3

Okay yep, holy cow. This is better than drugs FR OCTAGON SHAPED ROOM ARE THE BEST, my uncle's living room is like that and its amazing to play "find the object with hints" type games

ooh nice I love this vibe <3

Why did you paint the stars?” THAT TOO FOR 3 YEARS AND HE THOUGHT OF IT AS HELL, his therapist will need a therapist

he does not a Therapist I can tell you that much HAHAHHAAH

oh the trying to be invisible, i do that too, i keep doing that for half of an academic year, and all that time i just vibecheck everyone and the other half, i slowly come out of the shell (not much tho lol) that way i dont miss anyone or does anyone miss me and they cant hurt me too

That was me too when I was younger, but we're allowed to take up space on this earth. That's our right too, remember that my love 💜

this chapter was so cute, fluffy and cozy and they both speaking more about themselves aah its sooo good. and i loved his home/wing. the description of the place was just great i could feel the bed and the stars

I'm so happy that you loved it so much seriously heheh 💜💜

[attroxx]

❛ @un1awful said . . . "Happy Valentine's Day, pookie!" Kurama had broken into Ghost's apartment again, but this time, he arrived bearing gifts and good intentions. "This holiday doesn't really seem like your thing, but I felt like being generous anyway. I got you a gift—" He gestured towards the kitchen counter to a box filled with a collection of swiss army knives. "Aren't they cute? Look this one even has a 'lil panda on it." Kurama couldn't help but giggle, perhaps a little tipsy from the tequila he had also brought along. "It isn't my only gift—I know you hate my guts. I mean, I can't imagine why, but it doesn't matter. I'll be leaving you alone from now on." Was Kurama telling the truth? Maybe. Who knows 🤍 ❜

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄. he thought he'd done enough by buying a padlock for his door . . . clearly kurama had far more ambition than ghost realized. the blonde is right, it's not his sort of holiday. no holiday really was, actually. but despite that kurama shows up anyway, placing a box down on the counter top. ghost stands from his spot on the couch, reluctantly taking a step toward kurama. he has half a mind to pick the other up by the scruff of the neck and toss him out like a stray cat.

a flash of something shows in his eyes, what it is no one would be sure. eyes move around the knife, inspecting it from a safe distance as the other holds it up. kurama is bold, he'll give him that. buying a knife for a man he knows murders for fun ? either he's stupid or psychotic. leaving him alone ? ghost wants to laugh. but instead he makes a small 'tch', expression just as emotionless as it always was.

❛ don't break into my apartment and lie to my face, kurama. ❜ he snaps, arms crossing over his chest. ❛ cut the bullshit. you're just here to bother me for some ungodly reason. ❜ but dark eyes flicker to the knives once again as if his interested has been peaked.

unprompted valentines day asks. — accepting.

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 13)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon MOSTLY with some S2, Shadow of Night and Book of Life.

Summary: Whilst Baldwin deals with business away from Sept-Tours, Alisha copes with his absence and the impending wedding.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary @hofficoffi @stormyheart326 @simplytimeless @wonderlander594

The Story So Far

Alisha tossed and turned for two hours after Baldwin’s departure. She would never have imagined that sharing a bed with someone for just two nights would so spoil her for when she was then left to sleep alone.

Getting comfortable seemed like an impossibility, she was either too warm with the covers over her or too cold without them, she missed the heat regulating coolness of her vampire’s skin and the feeling of safety in his arms. The loss of this made her think of the first time she had it, their first night as husband and wife.

When he was so initially so gentle he seemed almost fearful that he’d break her if his movements within her were too insistent.

Tormented by the memories of their various intimacies, she gave up on the fruitless quest for sleep and instead got up, pulling on her underwear and Baldwin’s discarded shirt before wandering over to a small table where Alain had placed the chest containing her ‘dowry’.

Alisha picked it up, finding it surprisingly heavy, and brought it to Baldwin’s desk where she sat and opened it once more.

She gradually emptied the contents onto the desk, the folded papers that spoke of wealth contained in both stocks and properties, and, the glittering jewels.

With everything on the table in front of her, she noticed an old parchment style letter complete with seal.

Madame De Clermont.

The name on the front was not written with either a ballpoint or a fountain pen. It was clearly a quill, making the letter old, how old she wasn’t was sure.

In truth, she’d never opened a letter like this before and tried cracking the seal with the Ouroboros depicted. That then allowed her to unfold the parchment and frown at the almost unintelligible writing.

It took a moment to focus on the characters before she was able to decipher it.

Daughter,

The fact that you are reading this should already inform you that I am no longer of this world and greatly regret not having had the chance to meet you.

I write this letter in the hope that it will one day be opened although I have long feared it will not be. If I am wrong in this, please know that there would be no-one more delighted to be mistaken than I.

My wife will guide you in what it means to be Madame de Clermont, she is my right hand, as my son will need you to be for him. Heed her advice in all things as she knows well how to manage difficult men. Love and obey my son and you will find no greater, nor more loyal a protector.

Let me also take this moment also to stress that it does not matter to me whether or not you are of our kind, nor is it a prerequisite that you be changed. Even an old man can learn when he is wrong, and, consequently, hope that his past folly has not deprived a most beloved son of his happiness.

If Lucius loves you and you love him, you both have my blessing.

Your Grateful Father,

Philippe de Clermont

Alisha sat back in the chair, pulling Baldwin’s shirt tighter around her in a vain attempt to feel close to him, much in the same way she’d given him the ribbon.

Oddly, she no longer noticed an aroma of church incense on him as she had when they first met, clearly he’d just attended mass with a liberal use of the cloying smoke.

Now, his burning campfire scent mixed with the notes of rich leather served to perfectly sum him up, both attempts to control and utilise nature, conquer it, prove oneself above it.

Civilised.

As soon as there was light, Alisha was ready for her walk, just around the grounds of the fortress but enough for the cold November air to keep her alert.

The place was peaceful and she didn’t encounter another person, for around ten steps, when Gallowglass jogged out the door behind her.

“Mind if I join you, fancy a walk!” He asked the question that was in no way a question.

“I don’t mind, and I’m sorry.” She glanced across at him.

“Sorry?”

“Baldwin has put you on me-sitting duty whilst he’s away,” she smiled and shook her head when he opened his mouth to protest, “don’t worry, I’m not about to make your job harder. In fact, tell me what his command is and I promise I will help you stick to it.”

“I’m grateful for your offer Auntie, but a command from Baldwin is no a thing that bears repeating.”

“Alright,” she thought to herself, “then give me the jist.”

“The jist,” he stroked his scruffy chin in thought, “is that whilst you are outside, I am not to let you out of my sight.”

“Wow,” she whistled, “that’s more restrictive than I thought it would be.”

“Really?”

“Yes, who’s going to step foot on De Clermont land?”

“There are other ways to snatch someone than on foot.”

“There’s really not.”

“Please tell me you know that some witches can fly?”

She laughed at this.

“What, like on a broom? I think you’re making fun of me.”

“No broom needed, I’ve seen it, I swear!”

“Okay,” she regarded his expression, and believed him, “good thing my only threat comes from a vampire and not a witch.”

“When the congregation finds out about you and Baldwin, the only creatures who wont resent you will be your own kind, and us here, obviously.”

“I appreciate that, and you’re being so welcoming, even if having to follow me around is kinda super unfair to you.”

He had to chuckle at that but even through his cheerful exterior, there was a hint of sadness.

“Trust me, it’s not the least fair task I’ve been given,” he shook his head and the cloud of heaviness dissipated, “and what else am I going to be doing?”

“Planning more mischief with Marcus?” She suggested.

“Unfortunately not, Granny’s sending him to London to collect some miniatures from an auction house.”

“Well, since you’re stuck with me, I have a question for you.”

“Hit me.”

“Do you remember a party here in the past? Something to do with Baldwin’s father and his support for a French King.”

“Henry of Navarre?”

“Yes, were you here?”

“How do you know about that?” He asked with a hint of uncertainty.

“The tapestry, Marthe didn’t know much about it because she and Ysabeau weren’t here. So, were you?”

“I was.” He admitted.

“Then you’ll know, why was the tapestry moved, what happened at the party?”

“It wasn’t a party, Cicogna, the Venetian Doge brought his entire court, they were supposed to be here for a week but one of his musicians was killed. It was blamed on a spy in Sixtus’ retinue. Grandad gave his support for Navarre anyway. Nothing really happened.”

“You count a murder as nothing happening?”

“Just one murder? Aye!”

“Then why did he have the tapestry moved?”

“No idea, Why do you want to know?”

“Honestly?” She asked him.

“Yes.”

“It’s a mystery, I have a fraction of a story and it drives me a little crazy.” She confided.

“So you married a notorious secret keeper?” He asked.

“Fair point,” she smiled.

“Auntie, the past is not something you need to worry about, you’re his mate and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you Gallowglass.”

Alisha couldn’t help but recognise the strangeness in his statement.

If the present mattered because she was indeed Baldwin’s mate, she wondered what happened in the past that, according to Gallowglass, she needn’t worry about. It did make her think on Philippe’s words, to what ‘past folly’ was he referring.

Perhaps she really wasn’t getting to quench her idle curiosity and decided it not worth causing upset just to learn some gossip.

“So, wedding?” He changed the subject.

“We’ve agreed to give the go ahead.”

“I know, Baldwin spoke to Granny earlier, you did well to escape without her catching you.”

“He called, earlier?”

“Yes, and no, you cannot speak to him or see him before the church.”

“What,” it was her turn to stop, “I can’t see my husband for how long?”

“Jesus, the wedding’s in two days, I’d happily take not speaking to your husband for two millennia if it was on offer.” He chuckled.

“Two days?” She asked, feeling the blood drain from her cheeks.

“Granny works fast, I think she made most of the arrangements before she even got off the phone. We do have a seamstress on staff mind you, so that won’t be a problem, just do as Victoire says, she’s the one with the sewing needle.”

He stopped, his expression turning to one of concern.

“Aw hell, here,” Gallowglass directed her over to a low wall, “sit there, head between your knees before you faint on me.”

She followed his direction without argument, as he hovered nearby, not sure what to do. The vampire custom was clear on not touching the mate of a higher rank vampire but his compassion was at war with this rule.

“Maybe the whole wedding thing has made more of an impact on me than I thought,” she agreed, “are you all religious?”

“Both myself and your husband were pagan, Baldwin obviously much earlier, but Philippe would not have that, we would be Christian, serving one master.”

“God or Philippe?”

“They were both one in the same, I think he could relate, one heavenly father overseeing his children, and he did inform most of the Church doctrine.”

“You’re telling me that Baldwin’s father wrote the Bible?”

“No, I’m telling you that Grandad had a very firm hand in deciding which accounts made it into the final canon.”

“That is...terrifying.” She admitted.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t ever concern you just how much power and influence your family have had over the past two thousand years?”

“Closer to three thousand, and it’s your family now too Auntie.”

She nodded gravely, the responsibility Ysabeau had mentioned suddenly becoming painfully clear.

“Come on, you need to eat something.”

Alisha had no idea how much of an event breakfast was in Sept-Tours, tea, coffee, juice, bacon, eggs, pastries and so much fruit.

She couldn’t do much more than pick at croissant as the table bustled with conversation between every inhabitant of the fortress.

“Isn’t there anything I can do to help?” Alisha asked Ysabeau, who was sitting with Margaret on her knee, the child staring adoringly up at the vampire.

“It is already in hand.”

Alisha had the sneaking suspicion that Ysabeau already had most of the arrangements made before they arrived at Sept Tours, and knew that her step-son would relent.

“After breakfast we will have Victoire make some preliminary measurements for your gown.” Ysabeau’s eyes drifted to the different coloured ribbon around Alisha’s wrist, a ghost of a smile on her expression.

“Have you invited my aunts,” Marcus asked her, “and my cousin?”

“Baldwin will notify Miyako himself but I have invited Verin, Stasia and Freyja.”

“Aunt Fanny’s already in France, she’ll be here before the wedding, I guarantee it.” Marcus smiled, looking forward to seeing Freya.

“What about your father, Marcus? Matthew and his wife...Diana? Are they not coming?” Alisha asked him, causing a weight of silence to fall over the table.

“They won’t be able to make it, unfortunately.” Ysabeau answered.

She realised that Baldwin hadn’t actually told her what had happened with them.

Judging by Ysabeau’s tone - and the way everyone was suddenly studying their breakfast - now was not the time to find out.

“Where is the ceremony happening?” She asked instead.

“Saint Lucien,” Ysabeau seemed relieved by the change in topic, “it will be a Catholic ceremony, if there are no objections?”

“N-no, of course not. What can I do to help?”

“You can learn the Latin phrases you are expected to say and under no circumstances are you to speak with or see Baldwin until the wedding.”

Her cell had been broken by Christina several days prior and without a replacement, it would be easy for Ysabeau to enforce this rule.

“I understand,” she accepted, “and I want to thank you, for everything you’re doing for us, I really appreciate it. I’m sure Baldwin does too.”

Ysabeau almost corrected her, she was keeping a promise, nothing more.

“You are welcome,” she said instead, surprised that her rules had not prompted an appeal against them.

Ysabeau’s gaze was that of appraisal, like she was sizing Alisha up for some unknown purpose, task, role.

The rest of breakfast passed in general conversation until Victoire arrived to collect Alisha for her fitting.

Ysabeau watched until she was gone.

“I do hope Freyja is on her way,” she told Marcus, “if Verin and Stasia arrive first, they will eat that poor girl alive.”

“To get an accurate measurement, you must take those off.” The vampire told Alisha.

“O-okay.” She answered, hesitantly removing the warm, bulky sweater, jeans and vest until she was standing in just her underwear.

“Our priest is...conservative, which means that there will be no bare shoulders or arms.” Victoire decreed as she measured around Alisha’s waist.

That’s when she remembered, the very obvious hickie on the inside of her thigh that she’d noticed in the shower that morning.

She could only hope that Victoire either did not see it or would be too polite to mention it.

It had been acquired during Baldwin’s deliciously cruel teasing the night before, clearly it was some primal impulse to put a physical mark of his claim upon her.

“I don’t mind,” Alisha rushed to protest, “I trust you, with the design.”

In truth, she just wanted the two days to be over and was willing to do whatever it took to make them pass as smoothly as possible.

She started to believe Baldwin was mistaken, about the mate bond, it didn’t just lie with him. When he left, she felt a distinct tug at her heart that was, throughout the day, starting to feel like a vast chasm was opening up, hollowing her out.

“You will be beautiful on the day Madame, I guarantee it. You shall even render Sieur Baldwin speechless!”

Just as she was about to respond, the door to the room opened and a tall, blonde and stunning vampire entered.

“Um, hi!” Alisha greeted, still standing, in her underwear.

“Freyja,” the woman answered simply, as though that was explanation enough, “do you know who I am?”

“Baldwin’s sister?”

“One of them,” she answered with a smile, giving Alisha a frank up and down appraisal, “I’m here to help prepare you for the ceremony.”

“Ysabeau said I have some phrases to learn, in Latin?”

“You...do not speak Latin?”

“No.”

“French?”

“Nope!”

“I suppose it would be pointless to ask how familiar you are with Ancient Greek?”

“Not pointless but the answer would still be nuh-uh.”

“I assume Baldwin chose me as your chaperone due to your...unfamiliarity with our ways.”

“But Gallowglass-“

“Is your guard, do not leave this building without him.”

“Yeah, he already warned me of the hazard that is flying witches.”

“Good, dear Matthew’s mate Diana was taken from here by a witch, one who possessed the power of flight.”

“What happened to her?”

“Tortured, they were lucky to get her back alive.”

“They?”

“Matthew and Baldwin mounted a rescue. He didn’t tell you?”

“No.“

“I’m sure he will, he simply does not want to worry you with inconsequential threats. Baldwin has no patience for fragility, of body or of spirit but you seem to be the exception.”

“I’m not fragile.”

“Of course you are, and I am not saying that as an insult. You’re a warmblood, a musician too I hear. Not a warrior but we have enough of them in this family already. We will find a role for you, one that will suit your sensibilities.”

“A role? I’m getting married, not applying for a job.”

“Everyone in the family has a role, a purpose that furthers the de Clermont cause.”

“I though my role would be to support my husband.”

“Would that be enough for you? Would you not like to carve out your own function?”

Freyja’s words resonated, she never really thought about her place in the family beyond that of an extension, attached but not entirely a part of it.

“What role could I possibly fulfil that has not already been taken?”

Freyja’s smile was triumphant.

“We can figure that part out together!”

“Is that why he asked you to help me?”

“I have some more modern ideas when it comes to preparing the uninitiated for their new life. Verin and Stasia would not be as patient, I’m afraid. He must really care for you, to admit that a kinder approach is sometimes appropriate. My brother does not like to admit when he is wrong.”

“And Did he?”

Freyja snorted.

“Of course he didn’t, his request for my assistance was admission enough.”

“I have what I need for now Madame, we will have a fitting tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Victoire.” Alisha gave the woman a grateful smile.

“Wait,” Freyja told Victoire whilst keeping her eyes on Alisha, “I assume you would like to keep the dress intact after the wedding?”

“I would, yes.” Alisha agreed.

“Victoire,” Freyja turned back to the seamstress, “please keep that in mind when you are devising the fastenings. A newly mated pair kept apart for two days and nights, too many buttons and the dress will not survive.”

Alisha stifled a smile at the vampire’s candour as she pulled her clothes back on before Victoire left them.

“We need a man to give you away at the ceremony.”

“I’ve probably spent the most amount of time with Gallowglass so far-“

“It cannot be Eric, or Marcus, Baldwin’s their uncle. Ideally it should be a daemon.”

“The only daemon male I know is Nathaniel.”

“Perfect, ask him. It should also help with securing the daemon’s vote in the congregation, their leader is his mother after all!”

Alisha read over Philippe’s letter for the tenth time, taking time she should have been using to get ready for dinner. Meal times seemed to be an event in general in Sept Tours.

There was something regretful in the words of the deceased patriarch, guilt too, perhaps. Still, sitting at the desk was not going to urge her up to get ready and she reluctantly stood.

At the door to the shower room she heard a noise, the unmistakable sound of a phone vibrating, the cell phone Nathaniel had given her - alongside his agreement to give her away - ringing on the bedside table.

“Is everything okay?” She said as she answered the call, already knowing, in her bones, who it was.

“And hello to you as well Sweetheart.” Baldwin’s tone was teasing.

“Two days Baldwin! Our wedding is in two days.”

He was silent for a moment then sighed.

“I know,” he admitted, “Ysabeau works faster than even I give her credit for.”

“Surely you’ll be back by then, I’d kind of like you to be there!”
”I will be, I promise.”

“I hope so, Victoire has already measured me for my dress.”

“Oh?”

“Yep, and luckily your mark went unnoticed by her and Freyja.”

“Mark?”

“Let’s call it a token of affection,” she rolled her eyes, “that you so kindly bestowed on me last night with your merciless teasing, on your desk.”

“Ah,” he answered in understanding, “I am sorry, I forget how easily warmblood skin bruises.”

“So it wasn’t deliberate, a plan to mark your territory?”

“When I’m between your thighs, I don’t have the presence of mind to formulate a plan.”

“It’s really mean to talk like that when you’re so far away and I’m all alone in a big bed tonight. I might have to please myself.”

“Do something for me.”

“Record and send it to you?”

“N-“ he stopped.

“Well?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Stop,” she giggled, “what were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask you to wait. There’s no way Ysabeau will let me near you until the wedding anyway.”

“Are you asking me to ‘save myself’ for you because that ship has hoisted anchor by this point.”

“Two days, wait for me?”

“I can do that,” she agreed with a smile.

He went silent for a moment.

“Baldwin?”

“I’m sorry, for almost depriving you of this wedding. Everything happened so quickly I just didn’t think having this was something I-“

“Needed?”

“Deserved.”

“You’re a good man Baldwin, you deserve to be happy.”

“Good men don’t live as long as I have.”

She wasn’t sure what it was about conversation over the telephone that lent itself to such openness from him. Still, the sound of a door being knocked on the other side of the line stopped her from answering.

“I have a meeting before the Congregation hearing so I must leave you now Sweetheart.”

“Then go be big boss man,” she encouraged, “try not to kill anyone, and remember that I love you.”

She hung up just as Freyja breezed into the room.

“I would turn that off and hide it if I were you. Ysabeau is very strict with rules!” The woman headed straight for the wardrobe.

“I have to go wash up.” Alisha got up and made her way to the door, hearing his voice made the separation much more difficult and she had to pull herself together, preferably not in front of her sister-in-law.

“Take your time,” Freyja stated with sympathy, “no red eyes at dinner, and I’ll leave this dress out for you to wear. My sisters will be in attendance and I will help you make a good impression.”

___

PART 14

[shimmershae]

Waltzing might have stalled (for the moment), but all the words and worlds crowding my brain haven't.  Wanna have a look-see at some of the other little Caryl drabble-verses I'm considering turning into their own full-fledged stories (eventually)?  Here you go.  Tell me which one(s) you'd most like to revisit.

First up, the AU Caryl married fic where they raise Sophia.  And a puppy. 

 1. 

 “Please, Mom.” 

 “Sophia,” Carol warned. 

 “But it was an accident, Mom.  He didn’t mean to.” 

 “Tell that to my begonias.” 

 She heard a snort behind her, and she whirled around to glare at her husband.  He was just as complicit in the laundry list of crimes as her twelve-year-old.  He didn’t know it yet, but he would pay.  “Daryl, don’t even.” 

 “Didn’t say nothing.”  He grinned, edged a little closer, penned her in against the counter.  “You know you want it, Sweetheart.”   

 “Mommy,” Sophia pleaded. 

 Three pairs of puppy dog eyes stared at her until she folded, completely melted. 

 “Okay.” 

***

“Daryl, have you seen my favorite…” 

 Daryl tried to hide the chewed-up shoe behind his back, but it was too late.  She’d already spotted it. 

 “Where is he?”

 “Sweetheart, just remember.  Harvey’s still a puppy.  He don’t know no better.”

 “Harvey Dent Dixon!” 

 Sophia appeared behind her mother, their happily slobbering new addition cradled in her arms. 

 Daryl tried to warn her away with his eyebrows, but he didn’t marry no fool.  His wife whirled around and angrily wagged her finger beneath the puppy’s nose.  

 “How do I even put up with you?”

 “Mom!”

 “We should have named you Wreck-It-Ralph.” 

 ***

 “Harvey, you know you’re not supposed to be in the bed.”

 The puppy responded to her half-hearted scolding with a sweetly pathetic whine and a broad swipe of his pink tongue across her chin, burrowing beneath the blankets with her and flopping down in an exhausted heap. 

 Caught between a giggle and a sigh, Carol merely smiled and opened her eyes, thankful her husband and daughter were at soccer practice and not bearing witness to her utter failure disciplining the little obedience school dropout.  “Oh, you.”

 Harvey’s tail thumped lazily. 

 “I have a secret.  Two, actually.  Promise not to tell?”    

 ***

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.” 

 Daryl peeled back, let his arms fall to his sides.  His blue eyes darted over to Sophia, but the preteen was looking elsewhere, anywhere but at them. 

 Harvey was flopped down between her daughter’s bare feet, his tongue lolling, mouth panting as he tilted his head this way and that, happily, tiredly unrepentant for the latest episode of chaos.

 “Help me out here, Soph.” 

 “It looked dead.” 

 “Weren’t, though.  How’s I s’posed to know Mama and Pa would go all Commando on us?  Fucking squirrels.” 

 Carol snorted out a laugh.  “Daryl!” 

 ***

“No more dogs.  How hard is it to understand?” 

 “Really?” Carol sighed as her husband mimicked her oft-repeated words.  Twisting in her seat to face him, at least as much as the seatbelt cinched snug across her hips would allow, she challenged, “C’mon.  You can do better than that, Pookie.” 

 Behind them, Sophia giggled. 

 Catching his stepdaughter’s eyes in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, Daryl narrowed his eyes.  “Traitor.” 

 Sophia grinned, stretching out her legs and wiggling her socked feet between them, her smelly socked feet. 

 “Sophia!  Shoes back on!” 

 “What your mom said.” 

 “Technically, it’s a kitten.” 

 “Pfft.” 

 ***

 “You fell asleep in the tub?”

 “Third time this week,” Sophia piped up oh-so-helpfully, fingers tightening in Harvey’s collar when he made another playful lunge at their newest family member.    

 Coined Poison Ivy by her feline-averse husband, the kitten squeaked.  Blue eyes huge, just as wet and bedraggled as Carol thanks to this latest disastrous romp, it shivered and snuggled itself into the open vee of her robe. 

 “Third time, huh?”

 “Not now,” Carol frowned.  “Sophia.  Take Harvey outside.  Let him chase some real squirrels.” 

 “But Mom…” 

 “Please?”

 Once alone, Daryl reached for her.   “Something you wanna tell me, Sweetheart?” 

 ***

 Eyeing her husband’s pale face warily, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, Carol murmured, “Did you hear…” 

 Daryl staggered a little on his feet, hands fumbling to find the edge of their mattress, just flopped there like a fish out of water.  Still looking a little stunned, he nodded at her when she made her careful approach. 

 Smiling hopefully when his hands found her waist, Carol tenderly brushed his hair back from his forehead.  “Use your words.” 

 “A baby?  You’re…” 

 “I’m...” 

 “Holy shit, Sweetheart.  We’re living in a sitcom.”    

 “Daryl!” 

 Frightened from her doze, Ivy mewed plaintively. 

 “Cat agrees.” 

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

 Second, the AU where Carol and Daryl are partners.  Purely platonic.  Or are they?

2. 

 “Bed, Soph.  Now.” 

 “Fine.” 

 “Love you.” 

 “Sure.” 

 “Teenagers,” Carol muttered, falling back against her bedroom door.  Kicking her heels off, she bent to peel the stockings from her legs, made short work of her blouse and skirt.  She was down to her underwear and thigh holster before she realized she wasn’t alone. 

 “Keep going, Partner.” 

 “Fuck!  Dixon!  Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” 

 “Exterminators, remember?”    

 She took off her gun, turned on the bedside lamp, rolled her eyes at the erection tenting the sheet pooled around his waist.  “Seriously?” 

 He shrugged, grinned.  “Happens.”    

 “Stay on your side." 

  ***

Thing about Mason was, she was fun to fuck with.  And Daryl?  He loved fucking around.  Both in the bedroom, and…well.  Barring the field, everywhere really. 

 She’d left her bra on.  Sexy little number.  Just a lacy shadow against her pale, freckled skin. 

 His hands, body burned with the need to touch that skin, touch her.  He didn’t.  Didn’t trust himself not to take them both down a long, dark road that would consume them both.  Didn’t want to put their partnership on the line that way, but fuck.  She was right there.  He groaned. 

 “My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?” 

 ***

Carol rolled over, glared at her uninvited bedmate.  “Answer me, Dixon.  Who the fuck is Leslie?” 

 His smirk was slow.  Sly.  “Why?  You jealous?”  He deftly avoided her attempt to knee him in the nuts, pulled her leg over his hip instead. 

 “Dixon.” 

 Heeding her warning, he let her go.  “Relax.  Been watching tv with your ball-busting daughter.” 

 Carol softened.  “She loves that show.” 

 “Yeah, well.  Didn’t do much for me.” 

 “Your taste is questionable at best.” 

 “Mine?  What about yours?” 

 “Excuse me?” 

 “Your UPS man wear his little shorts on your date?” 

 “Dixon.” 

 “…” 

 “Scoot over a little bit, please.” 

  ***

“Quit moving.  I’m trying to sleep.  Wait.  Are you…what?!” 

 Daryl’s hand stilled under the sheet just long enough for him to hiss, groan.  “Jesus, Mason.  Think you can stop screaming in my ear?”  That was absofuckinglutely the wrong thing to say because those blue eyes flashed and caught fire, and shit.  Shit.  His hand quickly went from tugging his dick to shielding it as his partner’s small hands balled into fists, and she growled.  She fucking growled.  He was equal parts terrified and turned on.  Alright.  More like 60% terrified, 40%...

 “My kid’s…” 

 “14 going on 40 and not here.” 

  **************************

Third, teen besties Caryl AU where they both grew up with absent parents and found each other early on. 

 3. 

 “We really doing this silent treatment shit?  S’not my fault they only had one room.” 

 Carol heaved her duffel on top of the bed with a roll of her eyes, started digging through it like it held the secrets of the fuckin’ universe. 

 He wished.  Some last hurrah this was turning out to be.  Stuck in Bumfuck, Nowheresville in this Bates Motel wannabe.  With a best friend who’d sooner rip his nuts off than utter a civil word.  “Got a beer in there?” 

 “…” 

  “Shit.  Sorry.  Jesus.”

 “…”

 “Is that…That’s my shirt.  So is that…wait.”   

 “…” 

 “S’Walsh, right?  You crushin’ on me, Sweetheart?" 

 ***

 He was almost asleep, first decent forty winks he’d managed since they’d started this trash-fire trip when he heard it:  a blood-curdling scream worthy of this place’s whole Psycho ambience. 

 “Daryl!”

 The bathroom door bounced against the wall when he burst through it, practically broke his nose on the rebound, but that was all beside the point.  Two steps inside, and Carol was in his arms.  Shaking, still squealing, naked as the day she was fuckin’ born.  “Shh.  Got ya.  S’alright.  Somebody…shit.” 

 “Kill it.” 

 “A roach?  Seriously?  Thought you were bein’ murdered.” 

 “It’s prehistoric…what?” 

 “You’re so clingy.  I love it.” 

 ***

 They checked out, ended up at some Waffle House knock-off a half mile down the road that smelled like grease and maple syrup. 

 Daryl had already demolished his burger, was on the second refill of his shake before he addressed the huge fuckin’ pink elephant in the room.  “So, I saw you naked.  No big deal.” 

 Carol tugged at one of her wet curls.   “Great.  What every girl wants to hear.” 

 “Yeah, well.  Waxing poetic or some shit ‘bout your world class tits would only make things weird.” 

 “World class, huh?” 

 “Fuck.” 

 “Sharing is caring.  Now, give me your fries.” 

 ***

 “Oh.  Did I scare you, big boy?” 

 His fingers still fumbling with his half-zipped fly, Daryl scowled.  “Fuck off.” 

 Carol sighed, gathered her loose curls in one hand, lifted them from her sweaty neck.  “Would you relax?  I didn’t even see anything.” 

 Daryl remained skeptical.  “Sure?”

 This time, Carol rolled her eyes.  “Yes, I’m sure.   Want me to tear the hinges off a bathroom door next time?” 

 Daryl’s ears burned with the pointed reminder, and he joined her on the truck’s old tailgate, cast his eyes to the evening sky, their surroundings.  It was too…

 “Children of the Corn.” 

 “Stop.” 

 ***

 Fourth, Sophia finds herself in a spot of trouble. 

 4. 

“Quit stalling.  Where’s your father?” 

 Beside her, Sophia moaned into the cover of her hands.  “Mom, please.  It’s not Cade’s fault.” 

 Feeling her blood pressure tick up another notch, Carol wryly reminded her teen daughter, “Of course not.  I paid attention in health class.  It takes two.” 

 “Which makes it both their faults.” 

 The screen door slammed shut behind the man as he belatedly joined the fray, and Carol did a double take.  “Daryl?” 

 The boy’s shoulders lifted defiantly, but his blue eyes still looked just as worried. 

 “You’re Cade’s father?” 

 “Uncle,” Daryl clarified. 

 “This keeps getting better and better.” 

  ***

 Finally, because this post is too long and I'm going to have to do another one, AU.  Carol and Daryl are two neighbors not-so-secretly pining over each other, and the waiting game for one of them to make a move is killing Carol’s visiting friend Aaron.  He decides to help things along. 

  5.   

  “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” 

 “What?  But you’re, well.”  Her cheeks almost as red in that moment as her hair, Carol couldn’t even sputter out the word. 

 Aaron, as always, was quick to bail her out of the awkward moment.  Hiding his smirk in her mad cap of curls, he took her hand in his own and pulled her against his side, ushering her quickly down the hallway to her apartment door while her neighbor—her hot, adorably awkward, single, and undeniably interested neighbor—watched.  “What Dixon doesn’t know…” 

 “But…” 

 “No buts.  Just play along.” 

 “He watching?” 

 “Definitely.”