#so in the story the ball was for all the single ladies - so to speak | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wardenparker · 10 months ago

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Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Honestly, not many warnings here. Mostly fluff and some sexy flirting and blood drinking/talk of biting. Summary: On the night of the Samhain ball, your long-anticipated return home is marked with tears, hugs, and a very important announcement. Notes: Next week's epilogue will be the official end of this story, my darlings, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has come along for the ride!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

"Miss Allison, I promise you that everything is under control." Mrs. Taylor has watched Allison work her very hardest to finish the plans on the Samhain ball, and she has done wonderfully. Far more wonderfully than Allison herself would ever take credit for. Now, though, it is up to Mrs. Taylor and the rest of the staff to get the buffet tables and innumerable chairs set. "Please go and get dressed. We will take care of everything from here. It is going to be a wonderful night."

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip and wracks her brain, running through the mental checklist that has been swirling through her mind and double then tripled several times.

"This is not, as you like to say, my first rodeo." The elder vampire chuckles at the expression and motions toward the stairs. "There is plenty of time. Take a shower or even a bath. Relax yourself. Get dressed. It is time to enjoy your night."

“Do you think we ordered enough blood and donors?” She asks worriedly. Vampires from all over are descending on the estate and some do not drink from blood bags, so concessions had to be made.

“Mr. Finchley counted through the bags this morning and Renee is meeting each of the donors as they arrive.” Mostly students from the neighboring college, the set of a dozen voluntary donors for the night have signed contracts for financial compensation that they are permitted to back out of at any time if they should decide — and they will also be provided with enormous care packages made by the Taylors regardless of how long they stay or how many guests partake of their blood. Mrs. Taylor has baked and cooked enough in advance for each of them to essentially have a week’s worth of free food and Mr. Taylor went through enormous trouble to find them all manner of health and self-care items as well as other goodies. “Mr. Taylor had offered to speak to everyone but Renee thought the young ladies who signed up might be less intimidated if she was the one to greet them.”

“That would be best. I can also meet with them. Explain how it is for a human.” She offers with a slight blush. Last night she and Eddie had indulged in that particular activity after the conversation they had and she loved it.

Mrs. Taylor smiles at Allison’s blush, not calling attention to it but certainly noting the happiness in the young woman. Things appear to be going quite well. “I’m sure they would be comforted to hear from you.”

“Then I will meet with them when they are ready.” Allison decides with a smile. “Please have someone inform me when that is?”

“They have been asked to arrive by nine o’clock tonight.” The mantle clock beside them reads just after seven, meaning there truly is plenty of time. “The Master is taking it upon himself to greet any trick or treaters we might have tonight, so do not feel you need to rush in readying yourself.”

“He loves children, doesn’t he?” Allison asks, tilting her head and smiling at the thought of the elder vampire greeting kids and cooing over their costumes.

“He does.” Mrs. Taylor nods. The same expression of soft admiration paints both their features and the housekeeper clasps her hands a moment later. “Would you like a tea tray for your room? Or any help getting ready?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” She admits before she thinks about something else. “Is— has Dolly’s room been prepared for her return?” She asks softly, as if asking about it might jinx things.

An enigmatic smile from Mrs. Taylor is not the reassurance she is looking for, but the vampiric housekeeper has plenty of her own secrets as well. “All is prepared for. Truly, there is nothing for you to worry about. You should try to enjoy yourself tonight, miss.”

“Were you nervous when you were human?” Allison asks in wonder. “Or have you always been so self-assured?”

“Oh goodness no.” That actually illicits a small laugh from her and Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “It took a good century or so to find my calm, dear girl. Before that I was as nervous as a spring bride in the morning. I simply learned to…what is your phrase? Fake it ‘til I make it. Eventually it just sank in.”

“Good to know.” She’s more assured than some, but this is her first big event and she feels like she needs to prove herself worthy to Eddie’s sire.

“Everything will be just as you wished it to be.” Mrs. Taylor promises. “Now go on. I will bring your tea up myself.”

“Thank you.” Allison flashes her a grateful smile before turning around and doing as she says.

The artfully made Alice in Wonderland and Mad Hatter costumes that Eddie found for them are hanging in his closet and Eddie himself is sitting on the bed with a copy of the party itinerary in his lap when she walks in. "Hey baby." Almost instantly, he's at her side with his arms around her. "Did Mrs. Taylor banish you from the ballroom to get ready?"

“She did.” Allison huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “I was told that she has it completely under control. But I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be.” He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If I suggest we take a shower will that actually relax you a little? Everything is going to be great, baby.”

“It depends.” Allison admits with a grin. “Will you…feed off me again?” She asks quietly, amazed at how much of a rush of endorphins it can be.

Eddie’s chuckle is deep, tinged with equal parts amusement and desire. “I will. Because I can smell how badly you want me to.”

Biting her lip, she grins and bats her eyelashes at him. “You don’t seem to mind it.” She reminds him, finding it intoxicating when it fires him up. He loses control for a split second when he starts to drink.

With his hands on her hips, Eddie whirls Allison around and starts walking her toward the shower with urgency. “Alright. Let’s go. Very important shower to take.”

Her laugh is one of delight and she’s ecstatic that one day, she won’t have to secretly worry about growing old and leaving Eddie. She’ll be right there with him. “Baby?” He hums and she giggles. “Can we still do this once I’m changed?”

“Shower together?” He huffs at her playfully because he knows that isn’t what she meant. “I mean we can, but vampires don’t sweat so we don’t need to wash as much.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes before she turns around to start undressing. “You know what I meant.”

“We can,” he stresses the second word and tugs off his t-shirt. “But the thing that’s weird about it is that if you drink my blood and I’m the one who turned you…it doesn’t quite taste right. It’s like an evolutionary red flag, or something like that. To prevent vampires from consuming their kin. So if you want to keep doing this, and you want it to taste good and give adrenaline and all that? I would recommend that we ask someone else to change you.”

“Would you mind?” She asks quietly. Changing a person into a vampire is also quite intimate and she doesn’t want to upset him.

“I would prefer you chose someone you know well, if it isn’t going to be me.” He can understand her choice is entirely her own, but to make another vampire is a deeply intimate and meaningful relationship. It’s why so many refer to those they have sired as their children.

“I was thinking about asking your sire.” Allison admits. “Since he approves of me.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie kisses her cheek this time, pretending to consider something he already knows is a good idea. “Are you sure you want Max for a big brother?” He teases.

She snorts and shrugs. “He will be either way.” She admits, knowing that Eddie will always be around Max. Plus she kind of likes the other vampire for his treatment of you.

“I guess that’s true.” Eddie grins, though, and helps Allison out of her last few items of clothes after turning on the hot water for them. “To be honest, I thought you might pick Mrs. Taylor, but I have no doubt if we ask him about it later, he will say yes.”

“I hope to have more of a sisterly relationship with Mrs. Taylor.” Allison admits. “Although if your sire thinks it’s a good idea, I would be fine with that.”

“I doubt dear old dad will object to siring you. But be prepared for him to make a very big deal about it.” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. “Dramatic son of a bitch.”

“You’re dramatic in your own way.” She teases, sliding her hands up his cool chest and grinning at him.

“I’ve been well trained, I guess.” He huffs, but pulls her into the shower with him. “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

“Oh I do.” She promises, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “I absolutely do.”

******

"This place looks incredible!" Tracy squeals, throwing her arms around Allison almost the second she's inside the house. "Holy shit, holy shit everything is amazing. And what is that smell? Are you burning incense in the house or something?"

“The food.” There’s probably some incense burning as well, but all the human food is fragrant. “You look incredible!”

"Oh, this old thing?" Tracy giggles as she twirls around in her Clueless costume and poses like a model. She and Candance and one of the other women from the coven decided to come as Cher, Tai, and Dionne tonight. "As if, right?"

“No, you look amazing, I don’t think there will be a pair of eyes that don’t stop on you and admire.” Allison gushes, grinning at the other woman. “And you’ll be dancing all night.”

"I can't believe how good the house looks and how good you look!" She jumps forward to squeeze Allison tightly again. "Everything is perfect."

“Yes it is.” Since the shower and getting dressed, she’s calmed down. It’s too late to change anything and what will be, will be. She’s left it in Mrs. Taylor’s capable hands.

Tracy bites her lip as Candace comes up beside her. “Any sign of…?”

Allison sighs, chewing on her lip worriedly and glancing around. “Not yet. But knowing Max, he will make it as dramatic as possible and arrive at midnight like some reverse pumpkin fable.” She snorts, hiding her own nerves behind the facade of humor.

“Oh god, you’re right,” Candace snorts. She reaches to hug Allison tightly and shakes her head in some sort of fond exasperation. “And he’ll have figured out how to cue Phantom of the Opera entrance music or something.”

“That would actually have been a wonderful idea!” Allison gasps. “Next year. Next year’s theme is decided.”

“All of Broadway, or specifically Phantom?” Tracy giggles at the idea, already on board.

“Phantom.” Allison knows you would love the idea. “We could honestly have a Broadway themed ball every year.”

“Different time periods, different Broadway shows, different literary influences…” Candace sighs dreamily. “My vote is for a Jane Austen ball.”

“Ohhhh that would be wonderful.” Allison sighs as well, enchanted by the idea. “It would be a very proper ball.”

“What would be?” Eddie, who had been at the front door making sure the signs for parking and entry were clear enough and in the right places, now comes up behind his girlfriend and slips one arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She beams at Eddie and sighs at the idea of him in a Regency era suit. “A Jane Austen ball.”

“Ooo, you would love that.” He coos softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Mr. Finchley is out front to help with parking and direct people who haven’t been here before. The first cars were pulling in when I came inside. I thought you ladies would like to know.”

“Oh, it’s time.” Allison panics for a split second but Eddie’s hand on her waist steadies her. “Then I guess you and I should stand in and greet the guests.”

“And we will man the donation table.” Tracy grabs Candace’s hand. One of the main points of the night is still to collect for charity, and every party goer is supposed to be bringing in a canned or boxed food item for the local food bank. Between the food drive and proceeds from ticket sales going to nearest women’s shelter, the night should end up being a rousing success on all fronts as long as everyone has a good time.

“Thank you.” Allison throws them grateful smiles, happy that she has such a good coven to help her.

“Come on, love,” Eddie encourages her. There is a broad, proud smile on his face and he kisses her other cheek this time. “We have guests to greet.”

“Yes we do.” In your absence, Allison wants to be the best hostess so the reputation of the party grows. This could be a success for years to come.

The first half hour or so of arrivals is a trickle. Coven members, the teachers and students from the dance studio that you and Max had gone to. Some of the museum docents from the local preservation society have arrived as a group in full costume. A few folks from the charities benefiting from tonight’s collections also arrive in their festive Halloween costumes, and a smattering of students from the nearby college as well. It’s over an hour into the night when a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that Allison doesn’t recognize, pulls up under the porte-cochere and Mr. Taylor looks particularly amused — or even smug? — when he opens the door.

“Allison!” Though you haven’t aged a day to the naked eye, the way you hold yourself is different now. Over a hundred years changes a person, and the trauma that had once governed all of your actions has melted away to be left far in the past. But a straighter spine and surer shoulders are not what matters now. Not as you haul yourself out of the car in the beautifully elaborate gown that you wore to the first Samhain ball you ever attended — the one thrown by your abuela in 1885 when you decided to stay in the past. You and Max had thought it was a symbolic choice to wear the same clothes tonight.

Eddie’s eyes widen when Max pops out of the driver’s side and zips around to immediately take your hand, smirking slightly at the surprise and delight of the people gathered who recognize them. “I told you we haven’t missed the dancing.” He muses to you as he guides you towards the receiving party. “Edward, you look magnificent and that is saying something considering the gorgeous creature next to you.”

“What in the hell?” Eddie’s eyes widen at the deeply obvious change in Max’s demeanor and he can’t help a deep, amused laugh at how giddily you and Allison are greeting each other as he steps forward to either shake Max’s hand or give the bastard a hug. He can’t really figure out which. “Well, goddamn. You—you really did stay, didn’t you?”

Max takes the other vampire’s hand in a firm shake and drags him forward for a hug. “We couldn’t leave.” He admits shamelessly. “That time, the people, it was exactly what we both needed.” He pulls back and grins at Eddie. “But it’s damn good to see you. We missed you both.”

“We missed you, too.” As nervous as they were, and as worried as they were, it’s extremely obvious that whatever had happened, it was a positive decision. “But where the hell did you come from? And how did you leave in the first place? And when were you? We have so many questions.”

“We’ll explain it all.” Max promises. “Dolly has a lot of information to share with the coven. Including Mrs. Astor’s grimoire.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” You cling to Allison happily, drowning in your long-missed friend’s affection, before pulling back to look at her. “You look so happy, honey. That’s so good, and I’m so, so glad to see it.”

Max smirks slightly, sending Eddie a knowing look. “Eddie, you finally made your move.” He hums in approval. “Good, relationship bliss looks good on you both.”

“Come inside,” Eddie insists, practically dragging Max with him and Allison wraps her arm around yours to do the same. “We want to hear everything.”

“Of course you do.” Max is teasing, but if the situations were reversed, he would be hounding Eddie for the details. “First, how long have we been gone? Dates have kind of blurred.”

“About three weeks.” Allison tells him, still clinging to your hand. She’s still reassuring herself that you’re both real. “How long has it been for you guys, though?”

He glances at you and grins before he looks back at Allison and Eddie. “You tell them.” You urge with an indulgent smile since Max has been so excited about this.

“Only a few years.” Max insists. “One hundred and one.”

“So…you went to 1922?” Allison asks, confused because that doesn’t seem to track with what they found in their research.

“Not quite,” you admit, knowing the whole situation probably seems very complicated. “We went to 1885, and came back from 1986. A few weeks before Max was set to be born. You really don’t want to hop around in your own lifetime if you can manage it.”

“So you can move around through time?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open as every one of his theories is being explained.

“It was by accident the first time.” The admission is a little sheepish, but you look very proud just a second later. “I’m actually quite good at it now.”

“What happened?” Allison demands. “We were thinking something happened to you when your grandfather told us.”

“Unfortunately for him, my ex decided to surprise us on our date.” It’s been a century and the hurt is gone. Not even a sting remains. Derek is no more than a blip in your past and there are now very long stretches of entire decades where you even forget he ever existed. “I tried to keep him away from us with a protection spell but my spellbinding made it go haywire, and instead of protecting Max and myself from Derek, I protected all three of us from that moment in time. It sent us back to the exact same moment, but in 1885.”

“I knew you had to be spellbound!” Allison gasps. “How did you— did you see your mother?” She asks.

"My mother has been my closest friend for a hundred years." It was difficult, moving in and out of each other's lives at times, but with both of you being functionally immortal for that time you both understood that sometimes there was no choice but to be apart. "She even called me the day she met my dad." It was a phone call you had been waiting for, unfortunately. Knowing what would ensue in the coming years, you and Max had taken it as a cue to get out of the country for the remainder of your time in your own past.

“I’m so glad you got more time with her.” Allison glances at Eddie nervously, aware that your grandfather’s announcement tonight might devastate you.

"Then why do you look as though you had lost my favourite sweater?" You reach for her with both hands and squeeze her shoulders gently. "What's wrong, Ali? The place looks amazing, you look happy, and we're finally home again. It should be a night to celebrate."

“It is.” She promises, shaking off the feeling and sending you a smile. “Your grandfather will be happy to see you.” She promises.

"He should be expecting us." Out of anyone in literally all of time, your grandfather has always been the one person most informed about when and where you will be, your plans, and anything else you could conceivably need. He's been a wonderful father figure to Max and a doting grandfather to you, as well as an invaluable resource.

“He is.” Allison assures you. “In fact, he was the one to tell us you would be back tonight.” She admits with a rueful grin. “Guess we shouldn’t have doubted him.”

"He's the last person we spoke to before we left 1986," you admit, but you also shrug. After hanging up with your grandfather, you'd definitely spent the next few hours enjoying a nice dinner and fucking all over your empty house. Max's absurd '80s power suits had ended up to be just a little bit of a turn on for you. You're just not quite sure how that happened.

Max smirks, reaching up and caressing the back of your neck as you are obviously thinking about the same thing he is. “That was a lucky year.” He teases softly.

"Very lucky." Your own smirk meets his and for one happy moment you forget anyone else exists, just sharing an amused glance with your soulmate. It may be more than a hundred years later, but you still fall a little more in love with him every day.

He arches a brow and licks his lips. “No one would miss us for a few minutes, would they?” He asks, even though he knows he can’t sneak you away for a quickie.

Allison snorts in amusement, shaking her head at Max seemingly not changing at all in his core, despite the changes in his manners on the surface. "It's your house, guys," she reminds you both.

“No.” Max shakes his head and smiles at your friend. “My wife has waited way too long to see you again to sneak her off.” He admits with a chuckle. “And I’ve been told if I mess up her hair before our first dance, there’s hell to pay.”

"It'll be Gladys Vanderbilt's debutante ball all over again," you tease. The fond roll of your eyes is nothing but love after so many years together. "Although..." Looking up at him, you flash him a sly smile. Hearing him call you his wife still hasn't gotten old. "It's been what...fifty years now, since the last time we had a wedding? We might be due for another one."

“You’re married.” Eddie is the one who practically squeals it. He has known Max to be staunchly against being tied down, but that was before you. “How many times have you gotten married?”

"Um..." The look you and Max share is vague confusion, as between the two of you, you try to count out the different weddings you have celebrated over the decades. "1885...1923...1946...1967...and the last one was 1980. So five times. And I guess that's not quite fifty years ago. More than forty, though."

“Oh my god.” Allison whispers, glancing between you and Max in amazement. “Five weddings? Max you are just….” She shakes her head and throws her arms around him while looking over her shoulder at Eddie. “You have a standard now.”

“Sorry Eddie,” you tease, enjoying the easy lightness of being with your friends again. The urge to just continuously hug them and not let go is very real. “Although it is fun. And parties these days are so much more casual than they once were. That makes it a bit easier. Or at least less forbidding to plan.”

“I want to experience that.” Eddie admits, reaching out taking Allison’s hand. “We have decided that Allison will become immortal soon.” He announces after she gives him a soft smile of encouragement.

“Oh, honey!” Your eyes flit between both of them before you bundle them both up in a hug with a beaming smile. “There is so much life to live. You’re going to love it.”

“I can’t take Eddie’s blood like you can with Max.” Allison doesn’t mind that, not really. All that matters is that Eddie wants her. “And Eddie doesn’t want to…outlive me.”

“I think it’s an oversight on the universe’s part that you aren’t soulmates.” The connection they have is so strong and their love so sure, you would have just assumed it if you hadn’t been around when they started dating. “It’s wonderful to hear that you’ll be able to be together.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile at your own partner. Your other half throughout all of history. “Forever is quite fun, I have to admit.”

“You don’t look a day older.” Allison smirks as she takes in the changes you have brought back from the past. Self-assurance looks amazing and you seemingly glow. No longer the scared woman she had met in a farmer’s market, you are almost intimidating, and your entire aura radiates powerful magic.

“That’s a combination of Max’s blood and Audrey Hepburn’s face cream.” You smirk conspiratorially. “I’ll guard that potion with my life, since you won’t be needing it once you’ve been changed.”

“Interesting.” Her brow wings up at the mention of the famous actress, realizing you must have met her at some point. “Hepburn was a witch?”

“Particularly good with charms and potions. And she was fun. You never hear about her being fun, but she was great.” Beside you, Max has one arm around your waist and he hums proudly. “Max was a movie producer after the Second World War.”

“Really?!” The squeal is loud and enthusiastic and all heads snap towards the group. “Oh— that’s— I can’t believe we didn’t find you.”

“We were using different names at that point.” It had been essential to learn how to craft and re-craft new identities. Luckily, your grandparents had been fountains of information. “And Max only produced, so it’s not as though we were in anything.”

“Still.” She shakes her head and giggles. “The stories you can tell. What else have you two done?”

"I'll tell you everything starting tonight," you promise her, as the four of you step deeper into the house. It's good to be back at Chateau-sur-Mer again. To you and Max it has been just a few years since the last time you were here, but that's long enough to miss it. "But tomorrow you should come over to our house for dinner."

“Your house?” Her eyes widen and Allison frowns in confusion. “Dolly— th-this is your home. Cookie willed it to you, remember?”

"I know." And it is good to be back, but you rub Allison's arm affectionately. "But to avoid complications with my family through history...Max and I built another house here in Newport."

“When?” “Where?” Allison and Eddie ask at the same time with identical sounds of bewilderment.

They've reached a place where they have the same voice sometimes and it makes you smile softly. "You know that little gothic house on the beach that has basically been abandoned for the last couple of decades but somehow never decays? Seacliff Castle?" Beside you, Max smiles proudly. "It was finished in 1888. Max and Yayo designed it with the architect who built this place."

“You are kidding me!” Allison’s screech can raise the dead and she looks like a kid who was just told she was going to Disney and getting a puppy. “I have always wanted to tour that house, but no one knows who owns it. But it was you all along?”

"Come over tomorrow and we'll show you the whole place," you promise her, giggling happily at the absolute glee in her reaction. "But tonight? I want to see what you've done with the ball. I know it's going to be amazing."

“I have been so nervous.” She admits quietly. “But I think we have everything. Including donors for those who don’t eat bagged blood.”

“Mrs. Taylor and Yayo would never let you have anything less than a perfect night.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” From a nearby dark corner, your grandfather emerges into the low, atmospheric lighting of the great hall.

Max chuckles as he hears his sire’s voice. “Always.” He shakes his head. “Dramatic like always,” he jokes, having told you that your grandfather would make a dramatic entrance.

“I have learned that there are some things which are expected of me,” he jokes pleasantly. “Your journey was not difficult, then?”

“No.” Max reaches out and shakes his sire’s hand warmly and pulls the elder vampire in for a hug. “Cookie did not stake you for keeping our true relationship a secret, I see.” He jokes, even though everyone already knew that.

“She was…not happy.” He clears his throat distinctly remembering that particular fight with his soulmate. Cookie had been furious to find out that her beloved granddaughter and the witch she had been so fond of for a hundred years were one and the same.

“Hopefully she understood eventually why we had to keep it from her, and from Annie.” The contact with your mother had lessened over the years but she had never demanded that they choose sides, something Max had been grateful for – for your sake.

“She did understand.” He is sure of that, considering how very much it had been discussed. “But she regretted not being able to dote on you both as her grandchildren.”

“She did dote on us though.” Max protests and shakes his head. “She treated us like we were family and she loved Dolly like another daughter.”

“She did.” His sire nods, knowing it is the absolute truth. He sighs though, with a theatrical shrug of his shoulders. “But you know Cookie. My darling girl loved titles.”

“She was a special lady.” Max has a fonder appreciation for the older woman, even more so with the knowledge she had known who he was when he first arrived and still had kept her word to her husband to not say anything.

“She was remarkable.” Your grandmother may not have been perfect — in fact she was decidedly less than sometimes — but that was what made her so incredibly special to you. She had never demanded that perfection from you or Max that she tended to expect from Annie. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know how you were at the time? You’ll never quite know.

“Yes, she was.” For a brief second, amongst those he is closest to, your grandfather’s grief shines on his face. Missing the other half of his soul as vividly as the day she had passed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Yayo.” The only one of the four younger beings whose instinct is to reach out, you bundle your grandfather up in a hug. “I miss her, too. Her and Mom.”

He accepts the hug, squeezing you harder than he would have before you started taking Max’s blood. “Thank you, muñeca.” He hums softly, not missing the way that Eddie and Allison shift slightly. “I will be reunited with them soon.”

“You never know when the people we love can come back to us,” you hum, but the look on your grandfather’s face makes you hesitate. “But…somehow I don’t think you’re talking about that…?”

“Because you are bright.” Yayo praises softly, cupping your cheek and smiling at you mysteriously. “It has always been my plan to join my soulmate in her afterlife.” He admits. “Since she decided to end her mortality. I have only extended my time in this existence to make sure you were well settled, my darling muñeca.”

“Oh…” You don’t cry much anymore, but tears well up behind your eyes instantly. Saying goodbye to the last of your family is not something you had prepared for tonight. “I—but—the family?” He has so many more responsibilities than just your immediate family, you can only imagine that he was preparing for this for a very long time. Or else made a lot of decisions very quickly.

“Is your family now.” He reminds you softly. “Although I have decided to name my successor tonight.” He smiles proudly and hopes that you will not be too upset at him.

“This night is much more important than I thought, then.” Stepping back from him, you settle against Max’s side and try for a smile. Your grandfather is doing what will make him happiest and you have to respect that, even if it is rather a big shock.

“You will understand.” He promises, smiling at the group and then motioning towards the ballroom. “Let the evening begin.”

******

The evening, as Yayo so elegantly termed in, is incredible. With the party starting so late and the buffet being available to guests all night long, it seems that the ebb and flow of partygoers is constant. Music plays, people dance, and the lingering masses of vampires throughout the house are generally met with curiosity from the humans who find them fascinating — though they don’t quite know why. Those who are attending as donors are spoiled immensely and some have been given guest rooms for the night, but for the most part they seem to be an altogether dreamy sort of drunk to the unaware humans present. It is not until Yayo disseminates word to his extended family of brooding immortals to meet in the morning room that any sort of tension cracks the enjoyment of the night.

Max holds your hand, aware that you are upset, and he wishes he had some insight into this talk. As close as he had become to the older vampire, he hadn’t had a clue he was planning on giving up his immortality. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, squeezing your hand.

“I know.” You squeeze his hand tenderly and lean into his side, long ago having learned how to be close even while wearing large gowns. You just wish you had had more notice. Time to prepare. “He just has to be dramatic as hell about all of this. Calling a family meeting in the middle of a ball? Very Yayo.”

“He likes to make a scene.” Max snorts, lifting a brow when the servers bring around glasses of blood and champagne for the guests. The one who stops in front of you, hands you a specific glass. “It’s white grape juice, madam.”

The barest sniff of sweet juice proves she is telling the truth, and you smile gratefully. Even after a hundred years? Alcohol holds no appeal for you whatsoever. “Thank you,” you acknowledge with a smile. “My husband prefers something a little richer, if you don’t mind.”

“Mr. Phillips.” Another glass is handed to him and he sniffs it politely.

“Hmmmm AB negative.” He smirks. “Someone put some thought into planning this.”

"Allison said she left blood menus to Mrs. Taylor." There is no mistaking that your friend took the responsibility of planning tonight seriously, and divvying tasks out to the appropriate people when delegation benefited the situation.

“Then I will have to thank her.” Max takes and sip and hums in approval. “But later.”

"Has he started yet?" Eddie and Allison slip into the room beside the two of you, already having said hello to the extended vampiric family earlier in the night.

“Not yet.” Max eyes the elder vampire. “I think he was waiting for something.”

"It's always something," you hum, sharing a grin with Allison as the same passing waitress who served you and Max returns to offer Eddie and Allison drinks before exiting the room. When she goes, she shuts the morning room door behind her.

“I would like to thank everyone for traveling to attend tonight.” Yayo’s voice never seems to raise in volume but it booms around all of you clearly. “Not only is this a worthy cause to humans dear to my heart, but it is also a special night for our future.” There is a smattering of polite applause and you lean into Max's side even while Allison does the same with Eddie beside you.

“All the vampires here, I have personally sired.” He reveals with a pleased smirk on his face. Considering there are no fewer than two dozen vampires in the room, a small murmur ripples through the younger of that number. The elder vampires chuckle with the knowledge. “And tonight…” He holds up his own glass of blood. “One of you will replace me as the elder vampire. Leader and mentor to the future.” He announces. “I have decided to join my soulmate in the afterlife.”

The limited, mannered responses are gone in an instant, replaced by an audible gasp and murmured exclamation as the members of your extended — very extended — family all look around the room to see if anyone knew this announcement was coming. Eyes fall on you more than anyone else, wondering if your grandfather will take his biological family into account in this decision.

“I know that a lot of people have wondered who would take my place. And at one point in time, I had imagined my grandson-in-law, Max Phillips, to lead our pack.” He turns his head and acknowledges him with a smile. “However, there is another that I have in mind, since Max will be busy with juggling a new role.”

New role? You look to Max with confusion, but it's clear from the furrow in his brow that he has no idea what your grandfather is talking about either. If anything, his expression is more akin to crestfallen than anything else. He's fallen short of whatever expectation his sire had of him...

“Years ago, I made a mistake.” Yayo admits to the men and women he considers his children. “My Annie, my daughter with my soulmate; I felt she was destined to leave the coven of witches and her soulmate Emmanuel would be the perfect vampire mate. I ended up losing my daughter and never got to properly apologize for placing so much emphasis on the wrong things.” He pauses for a second. “I want my granddaughter and her husband to focus on the most important role of all. They will be becoming parents.”

Enthusiastic is the word for the applause this time, though the reaction from you and Max — the people being announced — is pure shock. "H—how?" How could he possibly know that? Especially before you do?

Your grandfather chuckles, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on your face. “Your smell, my dear muñeca.” He explains with an enigmatic smile. “I have had the pleasure of smelling a vampiric pregnancy before. That is why your soulmate had not been aware either. There is a sweeter note to your blood.”

Honestly, you might be more embarrassed about having it announced in front of so many people if you weren't so flabbergasted by the news. With your jaw practically on the ground and your eyes watering, your free hand goes to your stomach while your other squeezes Max's so tightly you would be afraid of hurting him if he weren't a vampire. You're so shocked that you didn't even notice Allison take the glass from your hand or the proud uncle expression on Eddie's face.

“I want my family to focus on being there, being the best parents they can be.” He admits selfishly with a small shrug. “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He jokes. “Max however, will be vital to the next leader. His own wisdom far greater than my own, and I feel that he will make Edward Perez the best leader vampires have ever had.”

Eddie's gasp is even more audible than your own when he hears his sire say his name. For that matter, it's been almost ten years since he used his mortal surname, and hearing it spoken so proudly is a kind of gratification that he can't quite express. While it's true that his sire — the entire room's sire — had given him more than ample guidance over the decades, Eddie hadn't ever considered himself anything too special. Not until he had started giving him more responsibilities in the last few years. Not until Allison had come along with her staunch and unyielding belief in him. Now it seems like all of that is coming to a head, and he steps forward hesitantly to stand up beside his sire.

“Eddie has been the best vampire that I could have imagined.” Yayo admits. “And Max— he has held a special place in my heart from the very beginning. I know that with Eddie in charge and Max advising him, our numbers will grow and your bonds strengthen.”

If there is any doubt or dissention from the other vampires of the clan, not a word of it is spoken in their sire's presence. Instead Eddie accepts a few nods and a whistle or two from his extended family and looks back at Allison to flash her a smile before putting his hand out to his sire. "I will do everything I possibly can to live up to this responsibility, and the faith that you've placed in me."

Max smiles, still a little shocked that he had not known you were pregnant. Leaning close and inhaling your scent to recognize the sweet, floral undertones to your blood for what it is. He had just imagined it was because modern food was processed with more sugar than in the past.

“I can’t be that far along, can I?” You whisper to him under the commotion of vampires now moving forward to shake Eddie’s hand or meet Allison for the first time. Many of them had not bothered to meet the younger vampire’s partner earlier in the night but they are making the effort now. “I mean…” you look up at your soulmate with disbelieving tears in your eyes, beaming an enormous smile at him. “I haven’t even missed my period yet.”

“No.” Max can’t help but lean closer to smell you again, addicted to the idea that you are carrying his child. If his own tears are concealed by your neck, that’s just a coincidence. “Your smell hasn’t been sweeter for long. Only a few days.”

“It’s sweeter?” Somehow that is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever heard — that pregnancy can and does make your scent sweeter instead of anything else — and the water behind your eyes presses at them again.

“It is.” Max hums softly, smiling at the newfound knowledge. Committing this smell to memory. “We will have to make sure you stay healthy, my love.”

"It's a damn good thing that I mined abuela for information about carrying a half-vampire baby while I still had the chance." The hand you have on your stomach curls in, conscious of the corset under your dress but knowing that there isn't anything but a tiny little bundle of cells in there right now. "Holy shit...pregnant..."

“I can’t believe it.” It’s not like you’ve been trying but you also have gone over one hundred years without protection. Max had quietly assumed children weren’t to be and had never mentioned it so he wouldn’t worry you. The relief that he can give you a child is one that would make him cry, and he will later on when it’s sunk in.

"I just sort of assumed..." you murmur, leaning into his side and burying your face at his shoulder. In this room you can be quiet as a whisper and everyone will still hear you, but they have enough respect to pretend otherwise. "After so long...I figured it was just...not in the cards."

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” He murmurs softly, smiling at the thought that you are carrying his little baby biter. “Do you want some of my blood or should we find a vintage you like for when the baby demands more than you normally take?”

"Abuela said she ended up drinking a glass of blood at almost every meal in her second trimester." Of course the word trimester hadn't been used in that conversation, but you had made copious detailed notes for yourself after any conversation in which vampire pregnancy or children rearing was mentioned. "I guess I'm going to have to figure out how to drink it when it isn't from you. Maybe mixed with hot cocoa? Or even decaf coffee."

He chuckles. “Actually, you might like it in tomato juice.” He suggests. “Keep you from thinking about it too much.”

"That's not a bad idea." The hand you have in his tightens reflexively, keeping him close and savoring these first few moments of realization. "We'll try a little bit of everything. It's going to be a very interesting nine months, considering I'm only the second woman in the world to carry a vampire's baby."

“I mean technically….” Max grins. “You’re a quarter vampire yourself. A little more than that every night.” He winks at you salaciously.

A momentary snort of amusement breaks a little bit of the bubble of worry that was starting to form in your mind, and you nudge him with your shoulder. "A hundred years later and you can still never resist joking about that."

“Babe, if I ever stop joking about that, you just go ahead to push that stake through my heart.” He jokes, knowing that you would never think about something like that.

"It'll never happen," you laugh, knowing as well as he does that some things will just never change.

“I know.” He bites his lip and grins at you. “So we haven’t had a wedding in this time.” He ventures. “What do you think about a shotgun wedding?”

"Oo, we've never had one of those before." An elopement, a grand party, a trip to City Hall, a backyard barbecue, and a small town bash — all of those you've done. But a shotgun wedding would be a new one for the two of you. "I think it's perfect."

“Now…we have to find out who’s holding the shotguns.” He jokes, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. “Do you want to wait until the belly is huge or before?”

"We may not get a chance to have me showing off a baby bump in a wedding dress ever again. I think we have to take advantage of it." He can obviously feel the way your heartbeat has risen, smell the way your adrenaline is singing, but that tender bump of his heart when he kisses you makes it all a perfect symphony.

“Completely agree.” Max nods seriously. “The wedding should be themed. Obviously.”

"Baby themed or cowboy themed?" You ask, laughing but slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“Oh no.” He snorts and sends you a grin. “Hillbilly, shot gun wedding.” He tells you, enjoying the idea immensely even if you would never agree.

Both of you snort, knowing it isn't the kind of thing that you'll ever do, but that joking about it is it's own kind of fun. "Water guns as favours for every guest and a Beverly Hillbillies impersonator to marry us?"

He chuckles and nods. “Something like that.” He jokes before he looks at you seriously. “I do want us to be married officially before the baby is born. In our true timeline.”

"I have no problem with that." Somehow you have a feeling this will be the wedding that matters most to him, whereas the one nearest and dearest to your heart was the one in 1885 where you were surrounded by your family and new friends. Setting both hands on his chest, you lean in to kiss him again and smile softly. "We'll make this one perfect for you, love."

Max knows that after one hundred years of family with your mother and grandparents, he should not have familial hang ups, but he does. “I don’t care about perfect.” He promises. “I just want to do right by you and our child.” He admits. “To be everything my father said I would never be. A good husband, a good father. A good man.”

"Those are the things you are, Max." It never hurts to remind him once in a while. You know that. But you also know that sometimes he has to prove it to himself more than anyone else. "And I'm very proud to be your soulmate."

“I never want that to change.” The Max of before might not have said that in front of a room full of vampires, but he doesn’t care. If they know nothing else about Max Phillips, they should know that he is devoted to his soulmate.

It takes a little while for the hubbub to calm down, but when it does, Eddie squeezes his arm gently around Allison's shoulder on one side of him and looks to his sire and shakes his head in near disbelief. "This is...it's a surprise. I have to admit."

“You don’t think you deserve it?” Max asks, clapping his vampiric brother on the shoulder and even though he’s disappointed for himself, he’s proud for Eddie. He understands why Yayo didn’t name him as the next head of the clan. He would be too distracted by your pregnancy and Eddie is levelheaded where Max is not.

"We're the two youngest, and you're soulmates with his granddaughter," Eddie reminds Max, turning to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You can't blame me for expecting the choice to go in another direction."

“Nah, you deserve it.” Max tells him honestly. “You’re the better vampire and you know it.” He smirks. “Now we just need to get you to act like it.”

"Good thing you're home, then." He laughs, grinning even as he shakes Max's hand with a force that would break a mortal's bones. "We'll catch up with you in a second," he intones, glancing back at you and Allison hugging a few feet away. "I need to talk to our Father about something."

“Of course.” Max flashes him a grin and a wink. “I’m going to go flirt with my wife and your girlfriend.” He teases before moving back to your side protectively.

"Actually..." Allison slips away from your side to take Eddie's outstretched hand. "I'm...part of this conversation. But when we get back out there, I'm stealing you for a dance. Okay, twinkle toes?"

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise furiously but he nods and wraps his hand around your waist. “Hope you’re ready to glide around the floor. I’ve had over one hundred years of practice with Dolly.”

"That's exactly why I'm stealing you," she teases, giving you both a small wave before turning back into Eddie's side to broach the topic of her own siring with the vampire who just stepped down as head of his long-lived clan.

“I wonder if everything is alright.” Max frowns slightly as he looks at the retreating pair and then back at you. “How are you doing, my love?” He asks, cupping your cheek.

"Wonderfully." The glass of grape juice is still sitting nearby and you pick it up, wanting the small comfort of a drink in hand. "In fact, I think when we go home in the morning, we should celebrate."

“How should we celebrate?” Max asks with a grin, even though he’s got some idea.

"Hmmm..." you tease, pretending to think very hard about it even though you already know the answer. "I was thinking...by the same way that we made the little nugget in the first place."

“You mean you want to have sex on the balcony overlooking the ocean and waving to the boats as they pass by?” Max grins as he licks his lips.

"I'm so glad we decided to have a house by the water," you groan softly, humming at the memory of just a few days ago — it was still 1986 but you were back at Seacliff, getting ready to travel back to your own true timeline. "Excellent idea. Extremely good."

“I know.” He grins at you. The house has been a lovely refuge for the two of you. It had given you the separation you needed from mother and grandmother so you didn’t spill the secret.

"So Eddie's head of the vampiric family, huh?" Wrapping your hand around Max's arm, the two of you drift back toward the ballroom at a leisurely pace. "And you'll be his right-hand. That's a hell of a lot of responsibility while we're growing our own family."

“I think that’s why your grandfather didn’t want me to take over.” Max admits. “Although, don’t tell Eddie I said this, he’s a better fit for the job.”

"You're a good pair." You admit that you had balked a little at the time, but when Max had wanted to go check on Eddie's human parents in the few years before he was born, the late 70s and early 80s had actually ended up being a blast. Eddie's little hometown in Northern California was comfortable and fun, and you’d lived a very basic suburban life for a few years. Max had barely stifled tears the day your neighbors had brought little newborn Eddie home from the hospital.

“We’ll see.” Max doesn’t argue but his hand slides down to your stomach proudly. “I’ll honestly be more focused on you and the little biter.” He has already filed the paperwork to ‘inherit’ the money he has made over the past generations. Restraining himself and not taking advantage of his insider knowledge too badly.

“That’s what you’re going with calling the baby, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him but still end up smiling. You’ve wanted this for so long, it almost doesn’t matter what he calls them.

“I can call them a little pup.” He teases, his chest puffed out proudly. “That’s what baby bats are called.”

“That’s actually kind of cute.” The smile on your face widens again and your hand rests over his on your stomach. “Which is appropriate, since you’ve always been my Cutie.”

His shy grin is always something that makes him look younger and despite the years, he still is bashful about the way he had become a bat to spend more time with you. “Need to find a bat mobile for the crib.” He jokes, “or I’ll just change and flap around to entertain them.”

“It will end up being both.” At the edge of the ballroom, you beam at him proudly and hold out your other hand. “First dance as expectant parents?”

“Always.” Max takes your hand and kisses the back of it. You had mentioned how much you loved the gesture when you had first watched Titanic when you were younger and while back in the 1800s it was extremely appropriate. Now he knows that two hundred years from now, he will still kiss the back of your hand to watch the burst of delight in your eyes. “Waltz with me. Today and every day, my love.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #Eddie BtVS #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #witches #vampires

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steakosaur · 8 months ago

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As an expanding of previous post about how fucking confusing Luffy is, if only because of the languages he speaks, which are extremely random for a seventeen-year-old pirate from a lost corner of the East Blue :

On the Strawhat crew, you don't ask questions about the others' pasts, that's the most important unsaid rule. You can ask about the crew though, so Robin, between the events of Thriller Bark and Sabaody, decides to get to know the others better, as well as the mechanics of the crew, especially those of the Romance Dawn trio and East Blue group.

Her investigation begins backwards, from Sanji, to Usopp, to Nami, to Zoro, to Luffy.

From Sanji, she gets the story of how their captain destroyed part of the Baratie, worked there for a single day, encouraged a fight between Hawkeye and Zoro, as he himself fought against one of the big shots in the East Blue, some armoured guy with an enormous fleet who couldn't survive Paradise.

Usopp tells an unusually under-romanced story about this ex-pirate turned butler who was planning on killing his lover Kaya for her money, and how Luffy and Zoro saved them all from the tall butler with poops drawn onto his tailcoat.

Nami tells her about meeting Luffy and Zoro in Orange Town, planning on robbing them dry for a map to the Grand Line, escaping Buggy the Clown, fleeing by herself to go back to Arlong and hopefully buy back her village, Luffy freeing her (she got to wear his hat, Robin notes with attention).

Zoro grunts about a planned execution in a Marine base, something about killing wolves and eating sugared rice balls, and, the most surprising of all, how Luffy, accompanied by the small pink-haired Marine they saw on Water Seven, seemed to know about him beforehand and deliberately wanting to recruit him (he's the only one of them Luffy got out of his way to specifically recruit before even meeting them).

Luffy's story makes less sense. Robin can't get him to tell where exactly he'd been sailing from, and tales of getting sucked into a whirlpool and meeting a big pirate lady are overlapped with descriptions of foods he got to eat and bugs he got to see on his way from wherever his native island is to the Marine base he found Zoro in. With how thick his accent is, she hoped to pin down his island, but the only other time she's heard it was in Vice-Admiral Garp's mouth, and she also doesn't know where he's from further than the East Blue.

Before she can get any more specific, toeing the line of prying, they get to Sabaody and Robin can't ask anymore questions.

What she gets to see and hear on the archipelago doesn't help : with this place being a gathering point for travelers and merchants from all seas, every languages known to her and some she doesn't know are spoken. Her Eastern crewmates struggle a bit, only knowing their native tongue and the most basic version of Grand (even if Zoro's accent hints to him speaking something else entirely, and by having been born in the North Blue Sanji understands one specific Northern dialect, even though he managed to erase all traces of it from his accent), but Luffy gets the strange Grand variation that points to a pirate having lived in the New World, and the vague noble they cross paths with, he can decipher their stuck-up tongue and posh accent, which surprises her a lot.

The New World Grand she can pin down to Luffy having spent, from her understanding, quite a bit of his formative years alongside a New World crew, Shanks' one.

The noble tongue, she can't link to anything. There's nothing that associates Luffy and the nobility, especially with who his father is. She tried asking the others about Ace, who could have given some type of hint, but all the feedback she gets on him is about how polite he was towards them, how affectionate towards Luffy, and how strong towards the Marines.

When Luffy punches the Celestial Dragon at the auction house, she can see that even if the fact that he wanted to buy their friend Camie infuriated him, that punch seemed a bit too personal, only adding to the mystery : why does Luffy speak a noble tongue if the Celestial Dragons are the only people Robin's seen him hate on principle ?

#op #one piece #languages in one piece #linguistics in one piece #luffy is a fucking mystery #monkey d. luffy #nico robin #strawhat crew #romance dawn trio

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hezzabeth · 11 months ago

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In this part of the story we are introduced to the concept of cousin siblings. We are also introduced to clone ethnic minorities. By the year 3856 A.D human cloning is common and legal in many parts of the solar system. Two centuries prior in the year 38337 A.D clones were given equal rights on Mars, the moons of Jupiter and the Pacifica Empire. Sibling cousins are cousins who happen to have clone parents. Twin cousins on the other hand are people whose clone parents reproduced with another set of clones. A clone ethnic minority are a group of people who descend from a single cloned person. The Bun clan for example descends from nine clones. By the year 3856 A.D the inner system census documented 23,000 members of the Bun clan. They are well known for their ability to speak to plants and their unique hair in different shades of pink.

"Is that the famous Lilyfield summer home? I read about it in my travel books!" She said with an eager whisper to Mrs. Bun.

"Oh yes! The flowers are open, which means the summer social season is on! They'll host a big ball for Apple day tomorrow," Mrs. Bun smiled.

"She wasn't like this before, she was acting all weird and prickly at the telehub," Revati whispered to Brigadeiro.

"Maybe she had a concussion? One time I had one, and I bought two dozen cupcakes, and then I smashed them all over that wall," Brigadeiro replied as they scooted past a pond and onto grass that appeared to be made of real gold.

Brigadeiro was pointing at a house perched right next to the golden grass lawn. Unlike the fantastic homes they had passed, the building Brigadeiro was pointing at was thankfully ordinary. The walls were painted bright white with navy trimmings. The space station's false holographic "sun" was beginning to set behind the pointy roof. Next to the house, there was another similar building, this one surrounded by a crowd of people.

"And that building?" Pauletta asked.

"Oh, that? That's just the family house," Mrs. Bun explained as they pulled to a stop. The crowd of people had all gathered around outdoor tables covered in platters of food.

"It's more than a family home; your mother would love this! Our house is almost three thousand years old," Brigadeiro explained, helping Revati out of the cart.

"Three thousand years old, shouldn't this place be in a museum?" Revati asked, staring at the house. Actual historical buildings from old Earth were rare.

"This place was built in Australia in the year 1810 by a sea captain who hunted some sort of monster called whales! It was called Collingwood House," Brigadeiro explained as several family members descended upon them.

"And now it's here? How?" Revati asked, completely shocked.

"When the space station was first opened, it had a museum, and this was part of it! Then when my great-grandpa got cloned, the Mill family gave him this place as a reward," Brigadeiro explained, ignoring all the relatives who were frantically asking him about the terrorist attack.

Within seconds, Revati found herself jostled and pushed away from Brigadeiro.

"Sit! Sit," someone shrieked, and Revati found herself sitting down at one of the tables. Two old ladies who almost looked like twins were sitting down fanning themselves. Their grey-streaked pink curls were pinned under massive yellow disc hats, and they were wearing matching yellow dresses.

"So you're the Martian then? I'm Auntie Saffron," said the old lady to the left with a birthmark on her nose said.

"Mars has over forty-six countries and territories; calling me 'the Martian' is like calling someone 'the alien,'" Revati replied, looking down at her bowl. The meal on it appeared to be some sort of savory stew garnished with apple slices.

"Hah, she has you there! I'm Auntie Magdalena! I have to apologize for my sister-cousin; she thinks us being the oldest family members gives us the right to be rude," the second old lady smiled.

Here's the corrected version of the text:

"Cousin sister?" Revati had to ask after taking a mouthful of the stew. The stew filled her mouth with earthy, spicy heat.

"Our fathers were clones who married clones, genetically we're sisters," Auntie Saffron said, studying Revati as she ate. "You can handle my daughter's gumbo; I thought it was far too spicy," she remarked.

"It's spicy? Really? Most food on Mars can melt through carpets when you spill it," Revati shot back, and Auntie Magdalena cackled.

"You're not going to scare this one off easily. I heard she saved Bridgadeiro's life three times," Auntie Magdalena said to her sister-cousin.

"Actually, we're up to five times. He fell into a ditch two months ago, and yesterday a hairdryer tried to strangle him," Revati admitted after drinking some apple.

"A hairdryer! Bubby! You never told your parents about that," Auntie Magdalena shrieked as Bridgadeiro sat down next to Revati holding a plate of muffins.

"Well, I was a bit distracted by the enemy attack and getting Revati here," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't know why your parents keep letting you run off to Mars! I've tried to discuss it with my nephew, but he keeps insisting you're an adult now," sniffed Auntie Saffron.

"I'm almost twenty-two! Also, I told you I need to complete three months of field research on a terraformed world for my doctorate," Bridgadeiro replied.

"Surely you must have finished it all by now! I thought once you inherited this place you'd be back," Auntie Saffron whined, raising a snooty eyebrow.

"So! What do you do?" Auntie Magdalena asked Revati, yelling over her sister-cousin.

"Do? Well, right now I'm eating..." Revati pointed out.

"She means what do you do to earn money; people ask that here a lot," Bridgadeiro said.

"Oh! I follow a ghost haunting an android about on her quest to find her long-lost daughter, who's also my sister," Revati explained, taking another spoonful of gumbo.

"How interesting! And where did you go to school? I heard that New Singapore has many fantastic universities," Auntie Saffron remarked dryly.

"My mother and her partner educated me in an abandoned Victorian doll museum," Revati replied, glaring back.

"Your mother educates you? So you don't have any vocational training?" asked Auntie Saffron.

Revati dropped her spoon on the table, staining the tablecloth.

"Before the appliance war, Revati's mother was a history teacher at one of the best schools in her country, and she's written an entire book about the appliance war," Bridgadeiro said, grabbing Revati's hand. "She did the best she could. Before Bridgadeiro came along, none of us could leave my home without risking freezing to death," Revati explained.

"Freeze to death? Really?" Auntie Saffron asked doubtfully.

"Yes, and if you were lucky to have a tent for protection, you still ran the risk of getting kidnapped by a wasteland gang," Revati added.

"That's how Revati and I met! She saved me from a group of actors that were going to kill me in a play," Bridgadeiro added.

"My word! What an interesting life your little friend leads!" Auntie Saffron drawled, and Bridgadeiro nodded towards their hands.

"She's far more than a friend, Auntie Saffron," Bridgadeiro replied coldly, and Auntie Magdalena giggled nervously.

"Why don't you go take Revati to the desserts? Your Mama is serving up her Tarte De Maca," Auntie Magdalena asked, gesturing to another table.

Was Bridgadeiro far more than a friend? It was a curious thing to consider. First of all, Revati only considered a few people, such as Aurora, Little Hardi, and her favorite feral child, as friends. Now that she thought about it, she had never slotted Bridgadeiro neatly into that category.

There were nights when he visited her on the road. Cold nights when the android switched herself off to charge, and they huddled together under a blanket playing Buggle on down. Nights where the game often ended in a way it never did with her actual platonic friends. There were warmer days where the android was waiting in some distant city for a new DNA trace. Revati and Bridgadeiro would wander the streets together, Bridgadeiro pointing out a particular rare plant. One time a band was playing music, and her head dropped against his head as they danced. Of course, it always ended the same way. The Android would detect a sample of Dityaa's DNA, and they would head out. Bridgadeiro would pack up as well and head back to his university. Sometimes he sent her messages. Sometimes she didn't hear from him for weeks. And then came the Diwali with Margarine.

Despite all that, she hadn't been able to file him into his proper place. Instead, he floated about in her subconscious, occasionally popping up in strange dreams.

Mrs. Bun gave her a sympathetic look as she handed Revati a plate. Vanilla, who was standing next to Mrs. Bun, shook their head with a knowing smile.

"Was Auntie Saffron bullying you? She made me cry three times during my first Apple day," Mrs. Bun said, handing another plate to Bridgadeiro.

"She brought up me coming back, then she called Revati's life interesting and referred to her as my little friend," Bridgadeiro said.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Bun winced, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

"Don't worry, Auntie Saffron referred to me as Barley's coworker at our wedding," Vanilla reassured Revati.

"She called me the housekeeper at Bridgadeiro's color day," Mrs. Bun winced.

"And you just put up with that? If anyone spoke to me that way back home, I'd stun them until they smelled like fried hair," Revati remarked, glaring at Auntie Saffron.

Auntie Saffron merely waved at their table with a heavy-ringed hand.

"Stunning people is illegal here; it's a form of assault," Bridgadeiro explained.

"Is it? How annoying," Revati remarked, still glaring at Auntie Saffron.

For a fraction of a moment, her eyes traveled further toward the crystal pond. Someone was moving amongst the waist-length clear crystal reeds. Someone with mint-green skin dressed in gold. They turned towards the party. Revati's eyes, well-trained from spending years staring into the dark, saw familiar weedy features.

"Hang on, who's that?" Revati asked, pointing at the person as they disappeared into the reeds.

"No idea; must be a guest of Lord Mills! Sometimes they get lost and wander into the private staff areas," Bridgadeiro remarked.

Revati merely shook her head, putting the plate back on the table.

"I'll be right back," she said before running to the pond.

In the dim light the stranger looked exactly like the Duke of Io.

Lakes, ponds, and oceans always seemed vaguely sinister to Revati. She knew that on faraway distant worlds, people swam in the waters and surfed the waves. The only body of water in Olde Landon was a man-made river filled with melted snow. Before the invasion, tourists would ride on lantern boats across the clear waters.

Authentic "bathing machines" had been set up on the pebble-covered beach. After the invasion, Revati would use the machines as makeshift showers. They never went further than the shallows. Skeletons lay in the sunken darkness. After the appliances invaded, the dead had been thrown off the bridge into the water.

Revati found herself standing at the very edge of the pond. Up close, the translucent reeds were tall and sticky, brushing against her dress. Something moved in the purple twilight, and Revati spun around. "I know you're there! I saw you all the way up from the party," Revati hissed, and there was another rustling sound. "Leave us alone," a man's voice hissed, and Revati's hand anxiously grabbed her golden necklace. No weapons, no bandages, and no bits of string. "It's you, isn't it? The Duke of IO? Or at least the appliance pretending to be him," Revati remarked, pushing her way through the reeds.

The reeds suddenly parted, revealing the glimmering pond. "I'm not pretending to be anyone! I'm the Duke and an appliance; two things can be true," the Duke of IO snapped back, his voice hidden from a boat floating on the pond. "I don't care who you are! Take me to my sister," Revati said, stepping into the water so she could wade over to the boat. "She doesn't want to see you! We didn't even know you would be here," the Duke's voice snapped back, and Revati grabbed the boat, rocking the edge. "I can't drown you, idiot!" the Duke shrieked.

"No, but you can probably sink," Revati snapped back, rocking the boat again. "Stop it right now, Sissy!" Dityaa's voice yelled, and Revati glanced over her shoulder.

Revati often dreamed about what she would do if she finally found Dityaa. The dreams were often filled with suffocating rage. Sometimes she would follow her, demanding to know why she never came back, how she could do such an awful thing to their mother. But in the dim light of the pond, Revati now felt nothing more than the cold water lapping around her legs. Dityaa was watching her from the other side of the small pond.

A different, somewhat more fragile Dityaa, her body stooped over as if she was in pain. Revati let go of the boat and waded towards Dityaa. The water now reached her waist. Dityaa was wearing a loose white shirt and a pair of grey pants. Her feet were bare. "What did you do to her?" Revati screeched at the Duke. "I didn't do anything!" The Duke protested, glancing over the eye of the boat. "You kidnapped her! And now look, she isn't even wearing a dress!" Revati protested. Dityaa often claimed she was allergic to pants. "He didn't kidnap me! I ran away with him, and we got married," Dityaa wheezed. "You married him! I've been chasing you for four years because you got married?" Revati shrieked, unable to believe it.

But then a thought occurred to Revati. "You got married! You literally wore a wedding dress to Medieval Faire," Revati snapped, wading towards Dityaa. "I knew you wouldn't approve," Dityaa murmured, her eyes fluttering. "I can't believe you did this! You almost killed Nanni! It would have taken three seconds to message anyone saying you were alright," Revati snapped, and suddenly Dityaa sighed before collapsing face-first into the water. "Darling!" The Duke cried with relief. "My darling," she whispered back with a small smile. Her eyes shut again, and she began to loudly snore. "You better not have brought that bitch of a maternity droid with you," the Duke said, and Revati violently shook her head. "Are you talking about the ghost who's Dityaa's real mother? I left her on Mars," Revati and the Duke nodded as if relieved. "She needs a bed; expelling the energy can be exhausting," The Duke said. "I don't live here! I can't just magically pull a bed out of nowhere," Revati pointed out. "It's fine, we have plenty of room in the kitchen building," Bridgadeiro's voice called. "How much of that did you see?" Revati had to ask, "I saw everything, but I think the party just saw you running back to the lake with the pie," Bridgadeiro replied.

Dityaa had, of course, managed to get the best room in "the kitchen building". Once Mrs. Bun realized the strange unconscious girl was Revati's sick sister, she insisted upon it. The kitchen building turned out to be much larger than the actual house. "In ancient times, it was used as a sleeping area by convicts and to store meat; now we use it for extended family," Bridgadeiro explained. Mrs. Bun merely made tutting sounds as she tucked Dityaa into bed. The walls of the bedroom were covered in thick thorny rose bushes. Gigantic pink and red roses bloomed everywhere, scattering the floor with heavily scented petals. The bed was fitted with pale pink sheets and pillows. "Why the rose bushes?" Revati had to ask. "Roses are excellent at monitoring the health of sleeping people; if something happens to her, they'll alert us," Bridgadeiro explained, shutting the door.

#comic #nanowrimo2023 #nanowrimo #science fiction #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #saying farewell to armageddon #life on mars #futurism #ya scifi #scifi ya #scifi comedy #clones

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sanvirtheobserver · 18 days ago

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Taking Flight, Chapter 51: Now Hiring

The afternoon sun bears down as Tari and Pomni face each other in the courtyard, both standing on the opposite ends of a large circle drawn on the ground. From the sidelines we see Meggy, Mario, Ragatha, and Shiro cheering them on as they both steel themselves for what comes next.

Ragatha: Alright, let's keep this simple. First one to knock the other out of the ring wins.

Tari's Glaive blinks into her palm with a shower of blue sparks. In her offhand, a blue ball of flame ignites as her gauntlet forms.

Tari: Just as we practiced. You ready?

Pomni: You kidding?

A pair of prisms begin to form around Pomni hands, creating a formittable set of gauntlets. She clashes the knuckles together with a crystaline spark.

Pomni: I've been waiting all week to test these out!

The air crackles with anticipation as Shiro raises his hand into the air.

Shiro: FIGHTERS READY!

Meggy: Give it all you got, Tari!

Shiro: THREE........

Ragatha: I believe in you, Pomni!

Shiro: TWO.......

Mario: Can I have a hotdog please?

Shiro: ONE.......

SMG3: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?

Anticipation gives way to confusion as they all turn to SMG3 flashing the biggest smile on his face.

Clench: Dude, really?

Meggy: Ugh. This better be important, Three.

SMG3: Oh, it is! With the success of the Café (and our "supplementary" financial efforts) I have been working on the next big step for the past week and am proud to present said next big step to all of you. FOLLOW ME!

Pomni and Tari just shrug. It seems as though their sparring session will have to wait. The group now stands before the result of SMG3's weeklong project. The building itself looked noticeably larger. Two single-story extensions on each side and a three story extension at the back form a "throne" around the central Café. A new name now sits atop the massive bomb prop on its roof.

SMG3: Welcome........to THREE'S LUSTROUS LAIR!!!!

The group now seems at least somewhat interested in what SMG3 has to say as they step inside. Everything feels so much bigger now. To the sides of the Café counter we now have a fancy diner and kitchen to the right, and to the left we have a pub setup with a drink bar. And of course, you can't forget the barrels of plushies and the racks of various weapons he has for sale.

SMG3: This marvelous venture now provides much greater amenities that'll help expand upon my brand. Along with our signature Coffee and Bombs, we now have a Devious Diner for lunch and dinner, and there's always the option of happy hour specials for the "legally" ambitious over at the Graveyard Shift Bar.

Mario: OH, does that mean you make.......?

SMG3: *sigh* Yes Mario, we now serve Spaghetti.

Mario: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Tari: Hm..........

SMG3: What? Too impressed to speak?

Meggy: As impressive as it is......... this place seems awfully big for one guy to run. Especially since he's usually out gallavanting for ill gotten gains.

Tari: Yeah, you aren't exploiting those poor Echidnas again, are you?

SMG3: Oh god no! I'd never do such a thing to Terrance's friends and family! Besides, I'm not necessarily alone on this one. While I am still the boss, it's about time I had a more efficient system for running this place. A new manager will help things run a little more smoothly.

The rumbling of engines can be heard at the back of the complex.

SMG3: Oh! That must be the crew coming back with our new employees!

He heads over to the back door and leads the way into the back of the complex. The first floor appears to be a workshop, complete with a working forge, several worktables, and a variety of machines meant for maintenance and construction. The second floor is a lounging area with a large projector screen and............ a double decker couch. Awesome. There's also a small bar that Rob is currently tending to.

Rob: Corn Colada?

The top floor is where things get interesting. SMG3 flips a switch and a large gate opens in the back of the building, revealing a custom made Airship dock. A bridge unfolds onto the ship's top deck where several new faces are waiting. One was a mighty tall Boo Woman in a seafoam green dress, with a much smaller Boo in a green vest and hat by her side. A pair of blue-in-black eyes peer from beneath her wide brimmed hat as she makes her way across the bridge where SMG3 is waiting. She was quite the imposing presence as she looked down upon the crew before her.

SMG3: Everyone please give a bow for Mrs. Martha Mildenhall. Pleasure to have you here, ma'am.

Martha: The Pleasure is all mine, Mr. Three. And you must be his....... companions. I must say you are quite the colorful bunch.

Mario: Are you calling Mario gay?

Meggy pulls his hat down over his head to shut him up.

Tari: It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Mildenhall.

Martha: Oh please, call me Martha.

Three more figures make their way across the bridge. Two young women and one young man. They looked like triplets, all bearing the same pale skin tone, ivory white hair, radiant yellow eyes, and thin arrowtipped tails. There was also these circlets on their heads bearing a set of glowing bulbs, as well as these metallic talon-like arms and legs. The boy dawned a pilot's jacket and hat with a pair of cargo pants. One girl wore a blouse with a variety of pens in its pockets, and her hair was tied into two neat pigtails. The other wore a winter coat that extended all the way down to her calfs, with most of her face obscured by a collar that covers her mouth and nose.

Martha: And these are my three little helpers. Why don't you introduce yourselves.

The young man came first. He was positively BEAMING as he greeted the crew with a salute.

???? Salutations new neighbors! My name is Noah, and I'm THRILLED to be working here with you guys! Over here is my antisocial sister Vale.......

The sister with the coat just waves.

Noah: ........and over here is my beloved big sis Julia!

The sister with the pigtails does her best to look presentable.

Julia: Ready to serve.

Tari: What about her?

She points towards one more figure making its way across the bridge. She had all the same traits shared among the other three, but appeared much younger with a maid's dress and bonet. She ignores the crowd and rushes straight to Noah's side.

Noah: Oh, Hey there, Cyn. Didn't think you wanted to come out.

SMG3: Now, if you would follow me, I'd LOVE to give you a tour of our newly refurbished establishment.

SMG3 and Martha head back down to the Café, leaving the rest of the group with the siblings.

Pomni: So......... um........., I was gonna say I like......... whatever it is you have going on here.

Noah cocks his head in confusion.

Meggy: I think she's talking about your look, like the circlets.

Noah: Oh, this little thing? It's actually an auxiliary optics array, but thank you for noticing.

Pomni: Then there's your matching gloves and boots........ wait, is that a knife?

He looks down and notices the switchblade-like claw hinged between his knuckles.

Noah: Oh! I'm so sorry about that.

He quickly and hurriedly folds it back into his hand with a nervous smile.

Noah: The hinges get loose sometimes.

Tari: Are those......... prosthetics?

Noah: Well, yeah. It's......... it's a long story.

She can notice the somber look in his eyes as he says that, same as the other two.

Tari: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to strike any nerves.

Noah: Oh no no no no no. It's fine. Just.......... um.....

Julia: We should get going. We're likely overdue for orientation.

Noah: Right! What She said.

And so the four head downstairs for their "orientation," leaving the rest of the group in the hangar.

Pomni: Well they were certainly....... interesting.

#smg4 fanfic #smg4 #smg4 au #smg4 tari #tadc #murder drones #team fortress 2 #fanfic #au

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sweethoneyrose83 · 1 month ago

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Vintage dialogue prompts

1940s Noir Detective:

Detective: "Listen, sweetheart, the city’s got a thousand stories, but yours? It don’t sit right. Start from the beginning, and this time, leave out the fairy tales."

Mysterious Woman: "You think you can handle the truth, detective? Most men crumble just from the weight of it."

Victorian Gothic Romance:

Lady Victoria: "Do you not feel it, Alexander? The air is thick with secrets, and this house… it whispers at night."

Lord Alexander: "I hear no whispers, only the ticking of the clock and your endless doubts, Victoria."

1920s Prohibition Era:

Flapper Girl: "Honey, the only thing flowing faster than the gin around here is trouble. You best keep your wits if you’re planning to stick around."

Bootlegger: "I’m not here for the gin, darling. I’m here to see how deep the rabbit hole goes."

1950s Small Town Mystery:

Local Sheriff: "Folks say it was the wind that knocked down the barn. But I’ve lived here too long to believe in coincidences."

Outsider: "Maybe it's not the wind you should be worried about, sheriff."

1930s Great Depression:

Drifter: "I don’t stay long anywhere, but this town… it feels like it's holding its breath, waiting for something to happen."

Local Shopkeeper: "A lot has happened already, stranger. We’re just hoping it don’t happen again."

Edwardian High Society:

Countess: "Scandal is merely gossip's older, uglier sister. And I daresay, the two are waltzing through our parlor as we speak."

Lord Henry: "I suppose you’d be the belle of that particular ball, wouldn't you?"

1960s Mod London:

Photographer: "You're a vision, love, a walking dream. Let me capture this moment—it's a revolution, and you're right in the middle of it."

Model: "A moment is all it is. Tomorrow, someone else will be the face of the revolution."

1930s Silent Film Star:

Silent Starlet: "They loved me once, when I was the face on every screen. Now? I'm just a flicker in their memories."

Cynical Producer: "Fame’s a funny thing. One day you’re a star, the next, you’re just another name on a marquee."

1920s Speakeasy Drama "Sweetheart, in this town, your name is either on the guest list or the hit list. You better hope you're on the right one tonight."

Victorian Era Mystery "It's no coincidence the fog rolled in just as Lady Pembroke vanished. I dare say there's something far darker at play here."

1940s Noir Detective "She walked in like trouble wearing heels too high for an honest woman. I knew right then the case was going to get dirty."

Edwardian Romance "You must understand, my dear. A single misstep in this dance, and our entire reputation crumbles. We simply cannot afford scandal."

1950s Americana "You know, doll, when a guy hands you the keys to a Cadillac, he's either in love with you or running from something. In my case, it's both."

Wild West Showdown "The sun ain't even set yet, and already you got your hand on your gun. You sure you want this dance, partner?"

Gothic Horror Mansion "I’ve seen ghosts in this house before, but none so cold as the spirit that haunts your eyes."

Prohibition Era Crime Boss "Kid, in this game, you either keep your mouth shut or you learn how to talk your way out of cement shoes. There ain't no in-between."

World War II Spy Thriller "One more whisper of your name on the wrong side of this war, and they won't need a bullet to silence you. The shadows will do the job."

1920s Flapper Rebellion "The only rule around here is that there are no rules, darling. Except, maybe, don't get caught."

#vintage #creative writing #writing #writerscommunity #writer #dialouge #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #character dialogue

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esotl · 1 year ago

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Performance - Act 7 (Part 18)

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Characters: Wataru, Tomoya, Mitsuru

Translation Directory

"If this world is like a story or stage play, its tragic end will be my fault, won't it?"

Location: Concert Hall (Theatre)

Wataru: "Author? Adaptation? "Reversi"...?"

Mitsuru: "Ah- I feel like I shouldn't have said that to one of the characters! Forget that! Uu~ I broke the rules 'cause I was half asleep, huh?"

Tomoya: "O~i! Finally found you, so you really did get lost!"

Mitsuru: "...Huh, who are you?"

Tomoya: "Don't be so cruel! I'm me! Look, isn't it obvious?"

Mitsuru: "Woah, it's you, partner! Why'd you change clothes? I couldn't recognise you at all for a moment~?"

Tomoya: "I was being chased due to some stuff that happened, so in the spur of the moment I changed into the clothes that were in that room there."

"Maybe it's an outfit that didn't get used for that révélerade thing? There was a mask left behind too, so I hid my face as well..."

"Well, that's neither here nor there."

"What do you think you're doing, going to a woman's sleeping quarters in the middle of the night!"

"Let's get out of here right away, I won't be surprised if our heads get taken immediately if we're found!"

Tomoya: "Um, Juliet-sama?"

"This guy might've said some weird stuff, but it's all nonsense! He's a compulsive liar~ ahaha♪"

"Sorry for the bother! Please forget all about us!"

Mitsuru: "Hey hey, I heard you were with Romeo-nee-chan before? Is she doing something somewhere right now?"

Tomoya: "She somehow managed to escape to the Montague family's mansion..."

"Luckily most people can't see me, so I caused some noisy disturbance away from where she was."

"I still have the guards attention now, so she was able to sneak away... But there are others like Romeo who can see us, so I can't relax."

"Let's escape before we're found and caught."

Mitsuru: "Okay! See you around, Juliet-nee-chan♪"

Wataru: "Sigh... please watch yourselves, the public order around here is in pieces nowadays."

"If you don't mind, shall I call someone to escort you to your home?"

"...Hm? Those "Chorus" people vanished?"

"They came and went like the wind... Like it was all a dream. I wonder if they really were fairies?"

"Aah...... Yet, mysteriously enough, those words have engraved themselves on my heart. Did God borrow the form of a child to deliver a revelation to me?"

"Oh, God, what is it you wish me to do?"

"I thought Romeo-sama's name sounded familiar, but..."

"Montague? Is she the daughter of that Montague family, our damned, bitter enemies whom my parents speak of unfavourably?"

"I've heard she's a good-for-nothing, astoundingly debauched madwoman..."

"Preposterous! That woman had not a single fault, like the sun."

"Just what is going on? Why was Romeo-sama in a place like that? What on earth is happening?"

"In this story God has weaved, in this tempest known as fate, am I merely toyed with like a miserable nightingale?"

Nurse: "Dear Lady Juliet, what are you making a ruckus about?"[1]

Wataru: "Nurse! No, it's nothing... It's like I had an odd dream?"

Nurse: "Good grief. Did you find some reason to not attend the ball and fall asleep?"

"Your mother will be in a great fury, Juliet-sama."

Wataru: "Let her be angry, it will bring back her youth."

"She's forcibly tying me to that gentleman named "Paris" like a string."

Nurse: "Paris-sama isn't just a pretty face - he's a very important, very rich man."

"If you marry such a personage, the Capulet family's influence will be easily solidified."

"Even the Montague family, who's power now rivals ours, will be driven away without a second thought."

"The Capulet family will surely become the only flower in Verona."

Wataru: "For that purpose, you insist on me marrying a man who's like an unlit candle?"

"He's pretty, yet pallid - I merely saw him from a distance and found him detestable."

Nurse: "Merely saw him, you say? You need to meet and talk in person first..."

"If you fell in love at first sight, it would have to be the work of fairies."

Wataru: "Aah... That's right, I wonder if I was tricked after all."

"Tricked by fairies to love someone I was never meant to..."

"If this world is like a story or stage play, its tragic end will be my fault, won't it?"

"Dragging anything and everything down with me..."

Nurse: "My lady? Is something the matter? Your voice has lost its usual energy."

"If you truly despise balls and marriage that much, shall I go to speak with your mother?"

"Should it displease her, it will only be this old head on the chopping block."

Wataru: "Please don't say such things..."

"This one and only chance at life that we've been given by God should not be thrown away so easily."

"Oh Nurse, beloved Nurse, I have something I'd like you to tell me. That Montague girl named Romeo, what kind of person is she?"

"There are some things I've been wondering about her."

Like before, the roles of Juliet's nurse and mother are also played by Wataru. Putting them under different speech tags seems like the easiest way to differentiate (though, it does feel a tad awkward to do so when Wataru isn't listed as Juliet...)

[Act 6 • Directory • Chapter 10]

#enstars translation #ensemble stars #wataru hibiki #tomoya mashiro #mitsuru tenma #enstars #ensemble stars translation #performance! the tragicomedy of romeo and juliet

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qnewsau · 6 months ago

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LG7: Lady Gaga confirms new album during concert film

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/lg7-lady-gaga-confirms-new-album-during-concert-film/

LG7: Lady Gaga confirms new album during concert film

Lady Gaga has confirmed her new album is finally on the way at the end of her new Chromatica Ball concert film.

The film, a record of one of her 2022 US concerts, arrived on streaming in Australia on Stan over the weekend.

As Lady Gaga takes her final bow and leaves the stage at the end of the film, a snippet of a brand new song plays and the words, “LG7. Gaga returns,” flash on screen.

LG7 is her first album since 2020’s Chromatica.

Speaking to Access Hollywood at the premiere, Gaga confirmed she has been “in the studio every single day.”

“I have written so many songs, I’ve been producing so many songs, and it’s nothing like anything that I’ve ever made before,” she said.

LG7 IS NEAR! Lady Gaga teases new music at the end of GAGA CHROMATICA BALL 🚨 pic.twitter.com/5ZQpSPvVTR

— Gaga Notify (@gaganotify) May 25, 2024

“I love to break genre and I love to explore music. There’s something really beautiful about knowing that you will be loved no matter what you do.”

Lady Gaga did Chromatica Ball shows with Covid

Lady Gaga released her Chromatica album in 2020 at the height of the pandemic. But the accompanying Chromatica Ball Tour was delayed multiple times until 2022.

We missed out on seeing Gaga do Chromatica live because she didn’t tour Australia.

52,000 people. Sold out. 30 cameras pointed at you and one take 🖤 #monster #ChromaticaBallLA I LOVE YOU🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 https://t.co/NbAQxMItj8

— Lady Gaga (@ladygaga) September 11, 2022

“This tour went on during a time that people didn’t think that you could tour [amid the pandemic] and stadiums were packed all over the world and they were sold out, all dressed up and dancing and singing,” Lady Gaga said at the premiere.

She also revealed that during the Chromatica Ball tour she perfromed five shows with Covid.

“I shared it with everyone on my team,” she recalled.

“I said, ‘I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable at work and you don’t have to perform and you don’t have to work that day, but I’m going to do the show’ because I just didn’t want to let all the fans down.

“The way that I saw it also is the fans were all putting themselves in harm’s way every day coming to the show.”

Lady Gaga dedicates concert film to fans

Earlier this month Gaga explained the Chromatica Ball concert film “chronicles a time of immense creativity…the fashion, the dance, the music.”

“Revisiting the tour leaves me speechless the way we had each other – you all showed up for music and art in a big way, and with a level of excitement and freedom that I will never forget. Stadium after stadium. Sold out crowds. The deafening singalongs.

“I love you monsters more than I can say. See yourself in every vocal, every fabric choice, the choreography, every image.

“No matter where life or my career has taken me, my time with you always is a path back to a very powerful part of myself. In a stadium filled with YOU it came to life. Thank you for that feeling.

“I hope you will feel seen when you watch this film. And know that I edited it carefully to honour you.”

Gaga Chromatica Ball is streaming in Australia on Stan.

youtube

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

#lady gaga #pop music

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la-folie-a-deux · 2 years ago

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Force of Gravity (Din x Reader)- Chapter 1: Birds of a Feather

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so excited to finally share this little story with you! This was originally supposed to be a miniseries to be the companion of Shatter by my bestie, the incredibly talented @kyberblade but I have lots of ideas and I already love our main kiddos more than words can say so please be prepared for probably lots of these two. I also want to thank Kristen for all of her help throughout the writing process and editing. She is the reason I got the courage to write my first ever story and I can’t express my gratitude to her enough. You’re the best 💖 I also want to say a big thank you to @firefly-graphics for making the dividers I use. They are so pretty, I can’t stop looking at them

NOTE: I do not own the Star Wars franchise, the dividers, the gifs, or Ti Jyrr, I just love them and wanted to make something with them. Please support their original creators.

Word Count: 3,862

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Now listening to: Gravity/Run to You and Wildest Dreams

As far as the eye could see, there were nothing but extravagant twirling gowns and sharply dressed gentlemen. A beautiful melody playing set the mood, or maybe it was the lighting, even the quiet murmurs of the members of society that were mingling on the sides of the ballroom could’ve been the cause of such a lively and exciting event.

You hated it.

But of course you couldn’t decline Cara’s request of joining her at the Queen’s annual ball to celebrate the beginning of courting season. Well, you could but you didn’t think that having to face the wrath of your lifelong best friend nor the society’s endless gossip was worth it so here you are.

Standing behind a pillar with a glass of too tart lemonade in a white dress that was much too formal and your hair carefully piled up with too many hairpins digging into your scalp, you were trying to keep all attention off of you. You were perfectly content to have not a single name on your dance card for the entire evening, in fact it was your goal. Maybe if Cara stayed distracted dancing with every handsome suitor that she drew in with a bat of her long lashes then she wouldn’t notice you slipping away into a much quieter space in the palace. Anywhere was much better than being here. Of course, you would not be so fortunate to have those goals met tonight.

Her mother fretted over both of you finding a man with a good title and family to settle down with since you were taken in after your parents met their untimely deaths when you were the young age of ten. Every time you two would return home from another ball with no callers the next day, you received quite the earful of lamenting and scolding remarks about how you'll both end up spinsters. Oh, how Lady Dune couldn’t stand the very idea of that happening to her girls. Not that she would be deterred from doing as she pleased when left to her own devices.

That’s definitely not to say that Cara would allow you the luxury of participating in the same freedoms. That was just a silly thought.

“Ti, I know you think you’re being sneaky hiding behind there but I know every single one of your hiding spots. Come out from there,” she demanded softly as to not make a scene or draw her gentleman friend away from her side. Always the proper lady she was even if technically you had a higher title to your name and bloodline. With a quiet sigh, you rounded the pillar to look at your friend. Cara cleared her throat delicately before looking up at her partner, “Lord Vanth, this is my closest friend, Duchess Ti Jyrr.”

With a slight curtsey from you and a polite bow from this Vanth fellow, he spoke with a friendliness that few people use in normal conversations. “Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you. Cobb Vanth at your service.” Cara gave you a look that spoke volumes. She absolutely loves how people speak to you upon hearing your title during introductions but this was more genuine than all those other times so of course she thought this was the best entertainment in the world.

“Please, just Ti would do. I’m not a fan of the pomp of titles.” That was not something the Lord had expected to hear. It was so casual in terms of society norms. It was as if he’d known you for years and accidently slipped up by calling you strictly by your peerage instead of your name. Most would find such a thing improper, but Vanth believed in being more laid back instead of formal every second he existed in a space. That’s probably the thing Cara liked about the man most.

Cobb sent a warm smile at you. “Okay, ‘Just Ti’. My friends just call me Vanth so since I get to call you by your name, you can use mine too. Fair?” You nodded with a grateful smile. It’d be a good idea to make more friends in society especially since this was only the very start of the season and it’s already insufferable. Maybe more companions could make the balls and parties not nearly as dreadful. Maybe you’ll actually want to go without having to be forced to join.

Maybe you’ll find someone-

You took a sip of your lemonade to drown the very thought your adoptive mother drilled into your head your entire life. You weren't going to go looking for “the one”. You are realistic in your fantasies of courtship and marriage. If you found “the one”, it’d happen when you least expected it and that was a big if. You know how rare it is for people to enter a marriage of love. People typically participate in a marriage of convenience where it’s more of a transaction than a union of two people. Oh how you loathed the thought of being stuck with someone you couldn’t stand the sight of much less someone that thought you were merely property instead of a human being.

“-friends with the Prince.” Cara’s voice slowly started to filter back into your head drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the present. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, lowering your cup from your lips. The Prince?

“I’m sorry, I missed part of what you said. Would you mind repeating it please?”

Cara knew she got your attention even if it was all based on some subconscious curiosity about the mysterious Prince of Mandalore. This was interesting. You didn’t typically find other people very captivating. You stuck to your general solitude and your fencing practice instead of going for a promenade around town like the other ladies. You liked your swords and your bow and arrows way more than you liked humans. With a sly smile and gleam to her eyes, she responded, “I was just saying that Vanth told me that he happens to be close personal friends with the Prince.”

You sent a curious glance to Vanth, as if asking if your friend was telling the truth. “She’s right,” he answered cheerfully. “He actually stayed a few days at my manor to help with a dilemma we were facing not long ago. If it weren’t for him, my manor and all its people would be in ruins. I owe him a great bit.”

You nodded along to the story, a thoughtful expression gracing your features as you thought about what your new friend told you. Reservedly, you asked, “What’s he like?”

Cara looked back up at Vanth while he met her gaze. With a slight nod in his direction, Vanth gathered all of his thoughts. “He’s quiet. Almost intimidatingly so. Well, maybe not almost. He likes to observe more than interact with people unless he needs to. But he’s incredibly thoughtful and loyal. He’s also a fantastic swordsman and archer.”

That piqued your interest even more in this man you’ve never seen, much less even know. He was like you. Almost identical to you. Birds of a feather and all that. Cara felt like she was witnessing a new side to her friend but all you could think about was the possibility of yet another new ally and one that was like you. Someone that wouldn’t drag you places you didn’t want to go because he also didn’t want to go, that’d do archery and fencing with you, to hide from the throes of society with… Oh, what a pleasant thought.

“Can I meet him..?” Your voice was small, almost shy.

Vanth nods enthusiastically. “Of course! I was actually planning on looking for Mando after this song. I’ll lure him over to meet you.”

You give him a grateful nod as he bows and makes his exit. You go to take another small sip before your friend reminds you of her presence during all of that.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Ti?” Cara asks incredulously once she’s sure that Vanth is out of earshot. “You, Miss ‘I don’t like anyone except my amazing and perfect best friend’-”

You interject quietly, “I wouldn’t go that far, Cara.”

“‘Except your spectacular and stunning best friend’,” she says over your comment, “are actually interested in the Prince! This is groundbreaking!”

“I think you’re being completely over dramatic over this. I’m not looking to use him as a plaything like you do with every new guy you spend the night with at every ball we attend,” you say exasperatedly. “I just think we might have a lot in common and I’d love to have more than just one friend to spend time with at these things, Cara. Is that really so wrong?”

With a soft sigh and a shake of her head, you get a response you weren’t actually expecting from her. “Of course it’s not wrong. But it is odd for you to want to have conversations with anyone outside of me, even more so is it odd that you want to do that with the Prince of all people.”

“How so?” You ask with curiosity. “You heard how Vanth described him. It sounded like what I imagine you say to people that ask you to describe me. How could I not be intrigued to get the opportunity to meet him?”

“I hate when you make a valid point,” Cara grumbled under her breath, stealing the half drunk lemonade out of your hand and taking a sip. Her face screwed up at the taste for a split second before she carefully schooled it. “Maybe you can convince the Prince to talk to his aunt about adding more sugar to the lemonade next time.”

You laugh at her comment before thinking about the detail your friend brought up. “His aunt? Isn’t the Queen the one that planned this whole ordeal?”

“Yes Ti, the Queen is the Prince’s aunt. The commonly told story is that when he was just a young boy, his parents were visiting the village when it got attacked and sadly they didn’t make it. He was taken in by the King and Queen as their sole heir to the title since they didn’t have any children themselves. I would say that you must be deaf since you didn’t know all that if I didn’t know the truth that you just don’t pay any attention to gossip.” Cara rolled her eyes in the most unladylike fashion she had showed all night. “This is such common knowledge. It’s genuinely perplexing to me how you can avoid such things when everyone speaks so freely on these topics so often.”

“I just don’t care to eavesdrop on the conversations people around me have. It’s none of my business unless I’m being referenced during it.” You shrugged which caused her to huff quietly into the cup she was holding to her lips. There was the sound of footsteps coming up behind you which gained Cara’s full attention, her eyes lifting up and the glass lowering slowly as she took in the sight.

“Ladies, I hope you don’t mind me returning with a companion.” The voice you were starting to easily recognize as Vanth carried out behind you as you turned to face him and your eyes land on his all knowing grin before traveling to this companion he spoke of.

Oh.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting but he was not it. Your wildest imagination couldn’t have conjured up anything like the man in front of you. He was fairly tall but not too tall, endearingly messy and wavy brown hair falling across his forehead, scruff on his face that really suited him well, a broad and strong build to his body that’s covered in a clearly expensive suit, warm brown eyes that were taking you in just like you were with him-

A throat cleared shakes you and seemingly also shakes the gentleman from your investigation of one another. Who’s throat? You couldn’t say but it was enough to bring you back to the bustling ballroom and remember your manners. Dipping down into a proper curtsey that you know Lady Dune would weep happy tears over, you know for a fact that Cara’s eyes are wide and calculating. She will without a doubt talk your ear off about the motion for the rest of your life or until you do something even more noteworthy.

The gentleman returned it with the most graceful bow you’ve ever seen someone achieve in all your life. Your mind was racing in a million different directions for a brief moment whilst in the back of your mind, you could make out Cara speaking. “Your Highness, this is Duchess Ty Jyrr."

Meanwhile, you could also hear the voice of Vanth speaking but it was all background noise until it was clearly directed towards you so you made sure to pay attention to the Lord. “Your Grace, this is Prince Din Djarin.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.” His voice was even better than you could imagine. Rough, yet somehow smooth. Quiet, yet still demanding attention. Charming. Strong. Addicting.

Not the time. Not the place. Not the Prince, for Maker’s sake.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness.” You keep your voice steady to not give yourself away to your audience. Cara is already seemingly onto your curiosity and attitude towards the man you were just introduced to, you don’t need her to think you’re a goner already after one sentence. Keep yourself together. This is a new possible companion, nothing more.

“You know,” Vanth interjects, smirking impishly, “Mando here is a big fan of dancing.” The Prince turns his head as quick as a bullet towards his friend incredulously.

Before he has a chance to open his mouth, Cara’s melodic voice cuts in, “Ti is as well! You two should go dance together! Run along now.” Now it was your turn to try to glare at your best friend but she’s already shoving you in Din’s direction without hesitation. Din catches you before you can think about stumbling, not that you would’ve since if there was one thing Lady Dune couldn’t scold you for, it was how light you were on your feet. Never clumsy or stiff, it was finally something you were known for your gracefulness in.

As the duo of tyrants you and the Prince called your respective friends made their way onto the ballroom floor themselves to dance the night away as they were before you were spotted and ambushed, you were left in the arms of the stranger who you wanted so badly to get to know. Sure, the man was handsome and his voice was like music to your ears but he was meant to only maybe become a confidant to enjoy spending time with while stuck at all the balls you were expected to attend this season. Strictly a friend, nothing more. You weren’t going to mess this up.

You look up at him while taking a small step back to put a respectable distance between the two of you again. You didn’t want to cause a scandalous topic of gossip by being held close to him, his arms around you. You knew they’d spin the story into something unfavorable and you couldn’t possibly want to put yourself in the pathway for such a thing, nor could you possibly think to put the Prince in that situation either. Curse Cara and Vanth for being so careless in their actions.

“We really don’t have to dance together if you’d rather not, Your Highness. I won’t be offended.”

A hand reached out to delicately take the dance card hanging from your wrist, the other reached into his coat pocket to procure a beautiful ink pen which he used to write his name elegantly in not only the first slot of the card, but every single empty slot. In a softer tone than he used to offer his pleasantries to your first meeting, he responds, “It could be fun, plus we could avoid other people if we stay busy together. We could even avoid Cara and Vanth if we danced together the entire time.”

“I like the way you think. Though, what would the Mothers and everyone think of us dancing in front of the entire ball? What about the King and Queen? Surely people will talk.” The King and Queen could find you unworthy of the companionship of their nephew and ban you from speaking to him ever again. You didn’t want that.

“They’ll talk no matter what, so let them.” He then looked slightly hesitant. “Unless this is your way of telling me you don’t want to dance with me, that is.”

“No!” You deny, almost frantically, but not enough so to draw attention to the both of you. “Of course that’s not what I’m saying, Your Highness! I’d love to dance with you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you were obligated to ask me in the first place.”

“I don’t feel obligated,” he says with a slight chuckle. “I’d like to dance with you. It gives us a good opportunity to actually talk without the chance of anyone coming over and interrupting. Plus I do like to dance when the partner I’m dancing with is good company.”

“Well, you’re in luck because I happen to be great company.”

A laugh escaped him. A real one too, not just a small chuckle. It caught you off guard and startled a giggle out of you at the sound. His hand reaches out smoothly, palm up in your direction for you to take (and who were you to deny him that) so you place a hand gently on his. He smiles at you, all charm and warmth, and you’ve never felt more at home than right in this moment with him.

“May I have this dance, Your Grace?”

“You may, Your Highness.” You let him lead you to the dance floor as the last song comes to an end and the band starts a new one. You both do the obligatory bow and curtsy to each other before engaging in a nimble waltz. The two of you spin around in a flurry of softness. There’s decades of shared practice between the two of you and it shows. But since the dance is ingrained in both of your bones, you can have a conversation without worrying about fumbling a step. “It seems like you have done this a few times,” you say with humor lacing your voice.

“Perhaps just a few times,” he responds in a similar jest. “It’s been quite a while since I did it last though, I must confess.” He takes a step forward, causing you to take one back to follow his lead.

“What a shame. I’m sure your last partner was quite charming if you’ve not danced with anyone since then. It’s a great honor that I, of all people, get to be your companion during your return to such a thing.” You step out into a small twirl before returning to him. “What were they like?” You can’t help but utter the question almost silently, as if your subconscious was scared of the truth he might befall upon you. Who is this person that means so much to the man in front of you that he’d stop dancing at every society ball for who knows how long and why wasn’t he dancing with them instead of you?

His hand gently squeezed yours in what you could only assume to be a comforting and grounding way, as if to bring your mind back down to him from wherever it had wandered off to. Another small thing that made you feel like he actually saw you and understood you when no one else ever tried to. “Well, my last ‘partner’ is indeed the epitome of charming but also is a child and stood on top of my feet the whole time. Other than that, any adults I’ve danced with aren’t what I’d describe as ‘charming’, though dull and insufferable could be more aptly applied to their characters.” His soft words reached you as if they were the song you two were dancing around to, wrapping your brain up in smooth warmth and unsuspecting hilarity. A small, unladylike snort escaped you at the verbal jabs he dealt to the unaware ladies surrounding you. He smiled at the noise, stepping a smidge closer to your body but not enough to be considered indecent should anyone look your way. “Thankfully, it seems that my curse of drab dance partners has been broken by you.”

“Oh hush, you’re just saying that. I would dare say that plenty of people would use the word ‘insufferable’ to describe me, including my dearest friend and her mother. Not that I take it to heart, I prefer to be insufferable than to be, what did you call them..? Oh right, ‘dull’ and ‘drab’. So maybe you were correct that I broke that curse. I should like to tell you that you owe me some gratitude but that might be an awfully large thing to ask of Your Highness.” You look up into his eyes, challenging him. Of course, he doesn’t step away from such a blatant dare.

“Should you like me to shout it out for all to hear, or maybe get on my knees to give my appreciation to you, Your Grace?” He teased, making you crack a smile.

Oh, how that would be quite a sight to behold-

You clear your throat, and your thoughts with it. “Just a simple ‘thank you’ should suffice well enough. I see no need to stop our lovely dance to make such a spectacle.” His eyes lock onto yours and you instantly drown in the warm chocolate pools of his irises. Being this up close makes you realize the height difference between the two of you, your head having to be inclined a fair bit to actually look at his face and all the agreeable features it possesses.

“Well then, thank you from the bottom of my heart for making tonight already a million times more tolerable than the last few seasons worth of evenings have been. I am eternally grateful for your company and I look forward to what else the night has in store for us.” And if that doesn’t seal your fate for needing him to stay present in your life, you don’t know what possibly could.

“I could say the very same thing myself.”

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kueh-lapyx · 1 year ago

Text

So I wrote a thriller short story based on the most terrifying dream my friend had...

*TW: gore, blood, some violence. Very long post ahead

The house is dark, but I am aware of the glaring cameras just around the corner. Like wolves, they prowl the arena in search of their next prey; they've spotted me, marked me, and are hunting me down.

Those cameras aren't just single tennis-ball sized eyeballs— behind each of their unmoving glass irises watch thousands of eager Pantheans, all of them anxious for bloodshed.

I have no intention to be their next source of unscrupulous entertainment.

I duck under a crumbling door frame. I'm heaving, but I'm careful to control each exhale— their mics get more advanced by the day. I stop to catch my breath so I don't pant too heavily. Resting my hands on my knees, I survey my surroundings. Just like any other, this room is ridden with mould and dust and cobwebs. It's darker than the corridor I'd been in.

My shoes don't make a sound against the hollow wooden floorboards. I creep further into the room, letting the darkness engulf me. Hopefully it will be safe for a while.

I have my hands out in front, and they graze a solid, sandy surface. My fingers brush a doorknob. A tug, and the door comes completely loose. I catch it just in time before it crashes to the ground. Apparently the screws on the rusty iron hinges gave away to age. I step into the wardrobe and secure the door back in place behind me. Again I pray, to Lady Tyche, that they wouldn't notice the lopsided door.

I know I've just backed myself into a dead-end. It's not a wise choice, but it's the only one I’ve got. I listen for the telltale beep-zzt of the cameras. I wait for the clack-thump of the cameramen's boots. It's silent outside. I exhale, just a little louder, and slouch carefully against the back of the wardrobe.

And then in the silence, I hear whispers through the back of the wardrobe. They’re coming from the other side. Soft and insistent, but a fraction of a decibel louder with each sentence, as if the one speaking feels the need to overrule the other, but both fear to be discovered in the process. One is high pitched, and on the verge of tears. The other is lower and impatient.

“Son, you know what they would do to you,” the female is saying, “and to me. I cannot bear to lose you; I’d rather you surrender and join the Mourners’ Pit--”

“Mom, that place is worse than hell. You know that too; they treat everyone there like they’re lower than freaking vermin! I’d much rather die fighting than wipe the Pantheans’ sewers with my dignity!”

Ah. I am all too familiar with this argument. The last time I saw my mother, we had been fighting over this exact matter. Except I’d have given in, much alike my cowardly personality, if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of the cameramen. We’d parted in a frenzy, my parents to the agora and me into hiding. We’ve never crossed paths again.

I think about home back in Omega. It's been so long since the sun kissed my face. I think about how no one is there, in our dilapidated little cottage, to feed Snowy. He must be really hungry. I think about how no one is there to chase the squawking sparrows off the berry trees. I think about the piling futile flyers advertising Pantheon’s latest line of cosmetics and the crisp pink sheets of rental bills, shoved into the crevice between the door and the frame, overflowing onto our red welcome mat. I think about how no one is there to stuff the ragged old carpet in the gap between the door and the threshold when it rains, to suck up the seeping moisture; neither is anyone there to haul the big red pail to the corner of the living room where it always leaks buckets. Our little cottage must be in a mess by now, I think. I miss the times when my parents would smile at me as I played in the puddles right outside the doorstep. I miss my mother’s piping hot chamomile tea and my father’s absurd stories about Greek mythology. I think about my parents, and how I miss them. And then I close my eyes and stop thinking.

Focus on the present, I tell myself.

“–it’s the best choice for you, son,” the mother is practically begging now, “if you won’t do this to save yourself, then at least do this for me. I love you, I would be more at ease knowing you're at least alive. Please.”

“I know what is best for myself.” The boy’s voice is cold. “If you really do love me, you wouldn't be so selfish for me to go to living hell just for your own comfort. You wouldn't rest well knowing I am suffering in the Pit.”

The mother is silent. Then she sighs. “Thomas, I–”

And a piercing scream lacerates her sentence.

My fist flies into my mouth. My heart accelerates ahead without me, too loud for my own good. Click-bzzt. They are here. Thump-clack. On the other side, in the room connected to the back of my wardrobe. Shuffle-click. In the room where Thomas and his mother are.

“NO! Thomas! Don’t take him– TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

“Mom! Mom, I’m sorry!” Thomas sounds terrified, all the previous antagonism gone. “I love you too! Stay sa–”

He vomits a bloodcurdling scream. Tears roll down my face. I taste metal, realise it’s from biting down on my knuckles. I can only imagine what they're doing to the boy.

As more days pass, each kill gets more gruesome and torturous. The Pantheans’ hunger for the unexpected gives the cameramen constant pressure to strive for more creative murders than the previous. The first kill had been merciful— a clean swipe at an artery. The second was left to bleed out after two shots in the thighs. I’ve heard yesterday's kill consisted of shoving a snake down the victim’s throat. The gossips may lose their credibility as they pass like wind in a spring afternoon, but they are more often than not conveying more than half of the truth. And it is terrifying, knowing that the next one they talk about might be me.

The mother’s pleas are cut off by a gruff voice thick with the Alphaen slang. “Slim it, bitch. You knoh ye rules; continue teh pup-whine and I will shuck you both.”

Cameramen don't usually speak, unless they're the egotistical ones from Alpha. Alphaens are notorious for being Pantheans’ lapdogs; the cameraman they send from there strive to execute the most cruel of murders and are thus favoured by the audience. Geographically closest to Pantheon, Alpha naturally prevails as their favourite— and despised by the rest of Gaia.

The boy seems to already have a foot across the Styx. I can hear his soft heaves, like he is too worn out to even breathe. I don’t know him, but I remember from the reapings that he is from Psi. I remove my bloodied fist from my mouth and clasp my hands together in a way I’d seen Psians do, back when we attended one of their funerals. I stay that way for a while, until grievous sobs from the mother tell me that Thomas is gone.

I close my eyes, wishing for Thomas to be at peace. And then I open them, blow into my clasped hands and release my breath to the back of the wardrobe.

Click-clack-thump. Rustle-thump. Bzzt-thump. I hear the cameramen fading away, leaving the mother’s sobs amplified in the room. I deflate gently against the wood. My back hits something hard protruding out from the mouldy wood. I grasp it, and with a soft click, the back of the wardrobe splits to reveal a sliver of light.

Oh. It is a two-way wardrobe. I pale at the prospect of being discovered earlier on. I'm reluctant to leave the safety of the wardrobe, but days in the arena taught me to never stay in one place. I push the door open a little more and cringe at the loud creak of the door. I stop pushing and slip out through the small gap.

Thomas’s mother is hunched away from me. Her black, wavy hair is grimy, and her pale, almost see-through skin is a result of malnutrition and the days away from the sun. I don't look much better, I know. But it's still startling to see those purple coloured lips and heavy eye bags when the woman jerks her tear-streaked face up to look at me.

I fold my hands over my tummy and give her an apologetic bow. She looks slightly shocked at the Psian gesture, but I can tell she is touched by it. She places three fingers to her lips, then to her forehead, and push it out to me— the Omegan gesture of gratitude.

“May Tyche be by your side.” She croaks.

I nod my thanks. We exchange weak smiles before I quietly make my way out of the room.

It’s still dark outside. Not surprising, though I’d thought they’d want to get a nice and detailed shot of their most recent kill. I am glad they left behind only the rather harmless flying cameras which won’t report our whereabouts to the cameramen.

I study the paths ahead of me. I can venture deeper into the house, but I might not last long in the barren darkness beyond. I have no idea how the house is designed; as of now the corridors seem endless. I've just used up the last of my food, and am left with barely a mouthful of water. It’s not the safest, but the agora is my only viable option. If I’m lucky, I might be able to snitch the leftovers from yesterday’s meal drop-off without being noticed. Again, I’m counting on luck, but luck is pretty much the only factor we can depend on to survive. Also, going to the agora also means I might have the chance to reunite with my parents.

I begin my journey. Thankfully, the slum-like environment in Omega has sharpened my navigation ability; I can remember my way through the winding corridors of the maze-like house without much trouble. I don’t have to listen to the sound of falling dust for long before I emerge in the semi-brightness of the familiar hallway.

The hallway is elaborately decorated— a stark contrast from the rest of the house. The tiles illustrate looping flowers, while the walls depict murals of Gaia’s abundant history. I step over the dried brown stains on the ceramic tiles, treading each step as if on water. I press my body against the map of Gaia and slowly peek around the corner.

It’s white outside. The daylight is blinding. I shield my eyes but don't wait for them to adjust before slinking out from behind the protection of the hallway. I'm exposed, but there's no one in the agora. No one to be afraid of, that is.

I snatch up the bundle of fabric slouched against a wall. It’s a little greasy. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food, though it is not safe to eat in the open. I backstep, cradling my haul carefully. I retreat until my back hits the murals, and then I turn sharply to sprint.

But the hallway is now blocked by four black-clad men.

The glassy, unblinking eyes of Pantheon stare me down. The cameramen found me.

I step back. They don't move, but I sense the space between us closing. The bundle in my hands is slipping. My heartbeat fills the hallway.

One of them moves to my side, holding his camera steady. I hear the whirring of the lens zooming in on the beads trickling down my face.

I should yell. The agora shouldn't be deserted. There should be people around to hear me. They should care enough to help…

The middle of the four raises a black contraption in my face and my voice dies in my throat. My shoulders hit the rough surface of the wall. I know the murals well enough to sense that I’m pressed against black-winged Thanatos.

My eyes dart about. The one raising the gun at me is the shortest. The one filming has the hilt of a throwing knife peeking out from his pocket. The one flanking the gun-wielder is pulling out a black rod. And the lankiest one has his fists tightly clenched.

They’re all masked and silent, and the lanky one is no exception. But there’s no mistaking the Omegan-grey eyes above the black fabric. He has his own weapon, too, though he doesn’t take it out. There’s a little blood trickling out from where his nails carve crescents into his palm. He is avoiding my eyes. Coward. Traitor.

The terror of being cornered fades momentarily. My mind is clouded with anger, and I am about to do something rash when my mother’s hazel curls flash by the corner of my eyes. I whip my head around, a yell at the brink of my lips.

The gun fires, and I fall.

The pain is excruciating, ringing as loud as the echo reverberating in the agora. The bullet burns a hole in my thigh, consuming me bit by bit. I try to focus on the woman with the hazel curls.

She is approaching me, the familiar waist-length hair billowing like a cape. Cat-like eyes prowl my body and my captors. The cameramen make way for the newcomer. I would have cried out for her, except that this woman isn’t my mother.

Occasionally, chosen Pantheans take a trip into the arena. It’s sort of like a prestigious vacation for them. Pantheans clamour for the honour of travelling into the slaughterhouse, to be aired, Gaia-wide, prancing about dead bodies. And if said Panthean is of an eminent position, they get the luxury of leading kills of their choice.

It is a supposed honour to die by the hands of such a Panthean. But, it’s hard to feel proud when death is just a well-manicured fingernail away.

The lady grazes my chin with her glossy nails, tilting my head up to meet her eyes. I notice her black pupils dilating within her amber irises. She smiles a smile that is anything but joyous. It is an unnerving sight-- the rows of burnished studs glinting along the titanium white teeth, framed by lush, full lips on a face too perfect for bare eyes to perceive. Everything about her radiates supremacy and impossible beauty. And her flawless finger on my chin disgusts me as much as it does her.

She pulls away, wiping her nails with a lacy handkerchief, her upturned chin disparaging my worthless existence. She’s taking her time while I’m doing everything I can to keep from passing out.

The lady takes out a toothpick from her pocket. The luxury item, made from steel and coated with bamboo, is something only the filthy rich can afford. She licks her studs and scrapes her canines with the toothpick.

A prod at my throat. She’s smiling-- no, sneering-- down at me. She presses the sharp point down, and I choke. I grab at her fists, but she swats them away and pins them down, cracking something in the process. And she blurs into amber. The splinter is driven into my throat. It hurts. It burns. I open my mouth, cough, choke, rasp laboured breaths.

She is in my face again. The toothpick in her hand is dripping with crimson. She doesn't speak unlike those villains they show in the outdated action movies on big, washed out screens. In her eyes, I am not worthy of speech.

I see the Omegan, the traitor, wincing. Then a black spot blotches him out.

Another stab. This time she has to wrestle the toothpick in. It’s blunt, but it still does the job. I cough, and blood spurts on the lady’s smooth face. She contorts her perfect features in disgust. Her hand jabs down thrice more, each time ripping a little of me away. I can’t breathe. All I see now are patches of colours. I can’t breathe. I’m coughing.

I’m heaving. I can’t remember what my voice sounds like. I can’t breathe. I’m already weak before. I can’t breathe. Who knew toothpicks could kill?

I can only imagine the holes littered on my neck, blanketed by red. I can’t breathe. I try to cough, to gasp for air. I can’t.

I can barely make out the lady tossing the toothpick away. She retreats, like she’s had enough. And then the cameraman with the gun steps forward. The lady disappears from my sight.

The gun, now an indistinguishable blob of black, is trained on me. I feel thousands, millions of eyes upon me as I lay there, wheezing and hanging on by my hinges. BAM! Pain blinds me. I try to think, to think of my parents, Snowy, home, the summer breeze in the berry patch. I try to think about the goodbyes I never will get to say. I try to say them. I try to think about how much I loathe Pantheon. How much we all loathe Pantheon. I try my best, but pain devours each thought.

I can’t speak, but there’s one thing I can do. I lift my limp fingers, mustering the last of the life I have in me. I direct it towards the lady who came and went; the Omegan traitor who stood by my death; the gun-bearer who will take my last breath; the watching Pantheans who are the cause of everyone’s pain. I flip them a gesture which the whole of Gaia understands. And I fall back.

The cold barrel of the gun slams into my forehead and goes off in my face.

This time, blackness swallows me whole.

I feel nothing. I feel like nothing.

Just endless fields of nothing before my eyes, endless fields of nothing within me.

And then I’m moving. Up. It feels like someone is ripping me away from myself. I feel like a piece of duct tape now.

Up and up and up. I swear I see the bat-like wings of the Oneiroi. And then I don’t. They drop me. I fall.

I hit a surface. The impact has me bouncing right back up. I’m heaving. Panting. The ground beneath my palms is soft. The air is soothingly cool on my face. It’s dark, but it’s a homely kind of darkness. My breath is hot on my face. I’m breathing. Am I not dead?

My hand flies to my throat without difficulty. It’s smooth.

I remember the intricate carvings of Thanatos against my back. Is this Erebus?

And then a square window comes into view. The moon illuminates a calm and steady dresser. Atop its smooth mahogany surface scatter a few books. The Maze Runner. The Blood of Olympus.

On my lap lies an opened book. I close it, and a golden bird shimmers under the moonlight. The Hunger Games.

I pause.

“So,” my voice comes out perfectly fine, “you’re telling me I died in my head?”

My room doesn't reply.

I laugh. I’m amused and relieved that it wasn't real. I applaud my brain for the amount of lore it came up with. Really, that guy should work as an author or something.

Speaking of which, I should take this epic nightmare down. I slide out of bed and grab my laptop. I flip it open, and white light spills out and onto my face. I pull out my folder and create a blank document. Then I start typing, because that’s the right thing to do after getting killed.

Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Nothing better than the calming sound of stories in a quiet night.

I’m almost done with it. Ctrl + S. Last paragraph–

Something hard slams against my head. Its familiar coldness forces me to stay still.

My tongue feels like a raisin. My fingers freeze.

Last I checked, I was alone in my room.

A click. The image of the cameramen, guns raised, eyes flashing above black masks, flashes across my eyes.

Click click. Bzzt. Whirr.

A chill runs down my spine. I have the ominous feeling of being watched. I remember the glassy eyes of Pantheon. And the gaping hole in the gun where a murderous bullet awaits its departure.

I turn around slowly.

A glassy eye is staring at me.

And I scr

#the end #yes it is cut off intentionally #yup the story has ended thank you for reading yee #writers on tumblr #short story #thriller #horror #original story #long post #very long post #dream story #flash fiction #greek mythology #my writing #creative writing #fiction #cw: gore #cw: violence

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salehasposts · 1 year ago

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Alice & Tarrant + (their daughter) II FLUXWAVE (AU)

Plot story:

It’s been 7 years, Alice has returned to London with her mother, but her mother passes away of old age

she’s realises she loves Tarrant, she misses him, as there is nothing to do in her world, she goes back to him, by the looking glass into wonderland again.

She thinks Tarrant is not waiting for her and think he has moved on from her but as soon as she steps in through the looking glass, Tarrant is right there, waiting for her, like he always does….

the two cry out of happiness, they hug very tightly, Alice tells Tarrant that she loves him after realising it for 7 years, she also tells him that she is really sorry for not realising it before and kept him waiting for all these years, she tell him that there’s nothing to do in her world and her mother has passed away..

Tarrant tells her it’s ok, that he loves her too, they finally kiss, and they grab each other and hug again, they both laugh madly, they walk hand in hand…

Mirana and everyone cheer for them, she also meets Tarrant family, Mirana gives Alice a welcoming and staying forever ball, there in the ball, Tarrant proposes to her and they get married a few weeks later…

three years later, they have a daughter, Talia..

but after many years, she grows up into a mature woman, but who is she like? Her mother, father or both?

Talia, the daughter of Alice Kingsleigh and Tarrant Hightopp

Alice + Tarrant = Talia Kingsleigh Hightopp

( the grandaughter of the Hightopp and Kingsleigh familes ) ( she's a single daughter of Tarrant and Alice )

Her name has a mix of her father Tarrant first letter name, T, and her mother Alice, has three letters name, Ali except without the C and E, only A at the end... = Talia

She has her father, Tarrant messy orange reddish hair, but she likes to keep her hair nice and clean like her mother Alice, but like her father Tarrant some days she doesn’t care so she just likes to keep it messy, her skin is white, creamish, pinkish, like her father Tarrant..

When she is mad, she speaks in a Scottish accent like her father Tarrant…

She has her mother Alice beauty (facial feautures) in her face, she has brown eyes like her mother Alice, but sometimes they change colours like her father Tarrant. . .

She's a TOTAL BADASS, like both of her parents, she's a kind lady like her father Tarrant, but when it comes to evil, her parents or under - land in danger, she gets mad quickly like her father Tarrant, she is a mature young adult, and a warrior like her mother Alice....

Both of her parents are so proud of Talia, the woman she is, they love her for who she is, she has her imagination like her mother Alice, also the walk, like both of her parents. the madness, like her father Tarrant and angry looks from both of her parents, not to mention they love her to bits, her father Tarrant and her mother Alice would do anyting to protect their daughter and make sure their daughter is safe....

Song: i just borrowed the song from somewhere else but its called FLUXXWAVE - Clovis Reyes

I don’t know why the video turned to be blurry, but I hope you loved the video don’t forget to press the note and comment, fairfarren....

#alice x tarrant #the daughter of alice and tarrant #hattice #alice and tarrant are parents #Talia Kingsleigh Hightopp #malice #my Edit #granddaughter of the Kingsleigh and Hightopp families

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just-lexy · 2 years ago

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Flatmates. Part 2.

to look for part 1 click in the tag Bey Flatmates and you should find it.

Last year (end of 2021 actually) I started this WIP and then never continued lol (story of my life). I finally decided to finish the second chapter because I have some time off and because it was about time. Not sure when and if you will get more though. But well.

What did you miss: Julia is an unexpected guest at Kai's house in Milan. Characters: Julia Fernandez, Kai Hiwatari Ships: Nope. Rating: I don’t understand rating. Characters are over 25yo so they speak and act accordingly. Notes: Bey Universe, post championships life. Julia slips a few Spanish words here and there

Kai Hiwatari knows how to laugh.

Kai’s “not being at home” much was an understatement.

Julia hadn’t planned to find that out firsthand, but it looked like that trip was an infinite series of misadventures. When the morning after her arrival Julia went to work she thought she would have used the keys Kai had left on the counter for her just to recollect her stuff.

Instead, her boss had been extremely rude, lecturing her in front of everybody about how unprofessional she had been calling her several times the night before.

Claro, boss, it's worth risking freezing in the winter of Milan because the company wouldn’t cover the hotel expenses.

Pride had surged into her, flaming and letting her act without thinking, boasting how she had found a solution already by herself. Ni de coña she would have asked for her help after that.

So, she had tapped on Kai’s chat - easy to spot since he was the one without a profile picture, a sign of his inadequacy on social media, or the fact he still hadn’t saved her number - and told him she was gonna take on his offer. At that point, she wasn’t even surprised to receive a single “OK” in response.

And that turned out to be their only interaction apart from the morning she found him in the kitchen, collecting some things before heading out, already dressed in an impeccably tailored anthracite suit, as if ready to be portrayed on the front cover of Forbes. After a simple “good morning” he took off and in the next four days, there had not been any other meeting.

To be fair, Julia herself had a different schedule every day according to the shows she was supposed to attend.

On the other hand, in the apartment, she had come to meet various members of the help. The petite and super-fast cleaning lady, the Spanish speaker gardener with whom she enjoyed a nice chat on the terrace overlooking the mix of red and grey roofs of Milan, and the plumber, who fixed her bathroom sink.

Kai looked like a guest of his own house.

Friday was the day. The day Julia had been waiting for. The whole trip was supposed to be worth it just for that Friday. In the morning, her company had their most important show of Milan’s fashion week, since the designer had chosen their handmade accessories for their collection. And it had been everything Julia had imagined, even more, so that when she went back to the apartment in the early afternoon, she felt happy like Cinderella coming back from the ball.

But contrary to Cinderella she didn’t have any curfew to abide by, Julia had still another event to look forward to, the event for which she had been carrying around the precious clothes bag: Versace’s party.

If she had been already determined to get the Milan gig, when the news of the Versace invitations started roaming around the office a few weeks prior, Julia had been even more focused.

And finally, the day had come. Waking up from her nap and freshened up by a shower, Julia’s mind was well-rested and all over the moon when she heard the front door closing and steps getting into the living room.

It took her a few seconds to recognize Kai’s voice, deeper than usual, the sounds he emitted were foreign, round, and dragged at the end of every sentence. Julia guessed he must have been speaking on the phone, maybe some work call to justify his sudden chatty mood. Then Kai started giggling. Kai’s giggling and laughing were even more foreign than the Japanese and Julia’s curiosity was immediately piqued. She had to see with her own eyes what was happening.

Julia followed the voice and when she reached the kitchen, Kai was just closing the fridge. He turned, a smile still pursing his lips up while he acknowledged her presence and broke the magic spell. He turned serious once again, and Julia felt disappointed hearing him resume the conversation in a neutral tone, clearly pronouncing her name in the middle of the Japanese sentence.

Julia felt ready to voice a question when Kai stepped closer, handing her his phone with a sigh. The screen lit up for a second showing the ongoing call with a name in Kanji followed by a kaomoji.

Julia took the phone confused and followed with her gaze Kai who was retreating upstairs.

“Hello?” She asked confused in the device, to be then flooded by Hiromi’s excited screams to which she answered with another excited scream, and so on. It was so nice to hear her friendly and warm voice after days of stress and loneliness. Because, yes, she was living the dream, but she was missing on the interpersonal side.

“So, how is it going at Kai’s?”

“Chiqui, this place. Why didn’t you tell me Kai is such a rich motherfucker?”

Julia hung up the call when Hiromi declared it was time for her to get some sleep. With a smile lighting up her face, she recollected herself and pondered what to do with the phone in her hand. The screen had turned black.

Was it worth it to break the self-imposed rule to not check the mysterious upstairs? She decided it wasn’t after she climbed a couple of steps and could hear the sound of a shower.

Nope, time to be the perfect guest and get ready for the evening.

Julia was almost ready an hour later, the Versace dress fitting her like a glove. She couldn’t believe her luck the day she found it in the second-hand market in Madrid. Spring collection 2018, soon to become a classic. And she still couldn’t believe she was shortly going to be in the same room as the designer of that same dress.

Looking at her reflection in the full mirror in the living room, she was still deciding how to style her hair when the noise of a door opening announced Kai’s figure descending the stairs.

“Up or down?” Julia asked him out of habit, as she would have done with her brother or a boyfriend. Her hand kept up her hair for a few more seconds before letting them flow back on her shoulders to show the two different options.

What was not a habit was getting a real response instead of the usual, safe, and boring: “You look beautiful either way”.

Kai actually stopped on his track, in his hands a pair of boots and a jacket, and gave her a head-to-toe look.

“Down”, he concluded without any hint of irony.

Julia’s head turned automatically towards the mirror giving the total look another scan and accepting that she looked better with her hair down.

Kai was heading again toward the kitchen and Julia followed: he had given her a piece of fashion advice, they were bound to form a bond now, verdad?

“Going out as well?” Julia inquired sitting at the kitchen island while he dived again into the fridge.

Kai emerged with a puzzled look and a box full of sushi, but quickly regained his usual composure and answered with his usual monosyllable, “yes”.

Julia’s brain rummaged for at least five topics of conversation - her specialty - and by the time she could land on one, Kai spoke.

“Do you want some?”

Her answer was delayed because she was still too focused on her line of thinking. Then she eyed the sushi placed on the light marble. It was early for her to have dinner, at best it was time for a light snack.

The dark gaze of the man seemed to deeply examine even her thoughts before he opened a drawer and picked up a fork and chopsticks. The scene was a bit daunting with the silence and the stares, but Julia couldn’t suppress a hint of relief learning he knew where to find cutlery in his own kitchen. She had been afraid the sole user was the cleaning lady but it looked like Kai had enough familiarity with the place to make Julia feel for the first time like she really was in the Hiwatari’s household.

“You should eat,” Kai woke her up from her mental digressing, handing her the fork and a cloth napkin. He continued setting the space with two plates, and glasses and poured soy sauce into a small cup. “You’ll learn it’s better to not count on the catering at Fashion Week’s events.”

Being rendered speechless wasn’t a common feeling for Julia, so she just nodded and accepted the invitation. It didn’t last long though, her brain recovering quickly enough to start her questioning. Why did he consider her incapable of using chopsticks? How was he finding sushi in Italy? How did he end up living in Italy in the first place?

The conversation ran smoothly and pleasantly. They could chat easily, teasing each other amicably. Joder, that was good news. Somebody might have said that Hiromi was right.

The sushi was almost finished when Julia placed down her chopstick - that she achieved with her salty comments - and finished the sparkling water in her glass.

“You still haven’t told me where you are going tonight.”

“I thought you were more observant,” Kai challenged her with a raised eyebrow. Julia took it personally, took offense to it even - with an exaggerated hand gesture - but then tried to restore whatever she was missing. Kai smirked seeing her predicament and hinted to the chair next to him where he had placed the jacket he was carrying before.

Julia was already letting a sequence of Spanish insults out of her mouth but then she started to really see what he was trying to tell her.

“You’re coming to the Versace party!” The jacket was black but it had a series of embroideries, golden details, and studs that just screamed the designer’s name. How could she have missed it? Her reputation was over, she was not cut out for her dream job. Shame on her, shame on her cow.

“You figured it out eventually,” Kai spoke interrupting her interior drama and starting to put away the leftovers. He looked entertained, el traicionero.

“Why are you invited to this party?” She scoffed.

“Because I am a rich motherfucker,” Kai quoted her comment, meant originally just for Hiromi’s ears. Julia was clearly descending slowly through different circles of hell, but couldn’t understand if he was seriously annoyed or just teasing. She didn’t know him that well and she was still his guest.

“It was a compliment, I don’t have anything against your mother,” she blurted out panicking.

Genial, as usual, her mouth was faster than her brain and now it looked like she couldn’t even understand basic English.

Kai laughed it off rinsing the plates before placing them in the dishwasher. Vale, he wasn’t mad.

“You better not, she is the sweetest.”

“I wonder how you came about then.”

He wasn't mad, yet.

But now it was two in a row, straight down to the bottom. Could have she learned from her first mistake? Yes. Did she though? Absolutely not. Could she walk out of this situation unscathed one more time? By Kai’s expression when he looked back at her, the answer was no.

For a second she had hoped she could get a - surely fancy - ride with him to the party.

Well, she had just blown it.

#my writing #bey flatmates #beyblade fanfiction #kai hiwatari #julia fernandez #wip

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kurishiri · 2 months ago

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06 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: alcohol consumption, drug usage, dub-con (will try to put in between dividers), awkwardly translated smut.

Together with Roger and Liam, we stepped into the pub.

Though it was the middle of the day, the interior was dimly lit, the smell of tobacco, alcohol, and perfumes hanging heavily in the air.

(But, I think with the way we look now, we fit right into this crowd.)

(I’d expect no less from an actor like Liam... he knows exactly which clothes to wear for any place.)

—— Flashback ——

Liam: Hey, we’ll out ourselves too easily if we just go in like this… so how about we dress up a bit?

—— End flashback ——

After that, Liam quickly coordinated our our hats and glasses,

and so, here we were now, slipping into the pub.

(Anyway, I need to keep an eye on Alfons... where is he...?

I scanned my surroundings, and...

Lady in a night dress: Jeez, Al, I swear you never come around when we invite you, but then you show up at the most sudden times.

Man smoking tobacco: Hey, could you do that thing again? I wanna see someone real tough and strong.

Alfons: Now now, aren’t we a hasty bunch... I’ll have you all know this is only my first cup.

A: I must ask you to be patient enough to allow me some time to get at least a little tipsy.

(Found him...!)

There he was, with the arms of several ladies snaked around his body,

along with several men who were smoking something like tobacco, though I also couldn’t be sure, as they held some rolled paper that looked suspicious at best with their mouths as they smiled from the other side of the smoke.

Roger: Oh man, there he goes again today.

Liam: Looks like we snuck in right as his friends were gathering around him.

Seeing his ‘indulgent private life’ that I had imagined in the back of my mind play out right before my eyes was enough to render me a bit dizzy.

(So this kind of lifestyle is normal for him, I guess...)

I was certain the one night I had spent with him could only amount to a single percent of his breadth of experience, which was probably comparable to the number of stars in the sky.

(...Not that I really care about something like that though!)

I turned a blind eye to the twinge of pain in my chest that felt as though it had been pierced ever so slightly with the tip of a needle, as I turned back to Alfons.

While sitting at a table some ways away from him, I occasionally took a sip of the drink I ordered while stealing glances in his direction.

(Or rather...)

Kate: I guess none of this can really count as a weakness, so to speak.

Roger: Hm? Oh, yeah, guess so.

R: The fact that Al plays around like this isn’t news to anyone in the aristocratic society, so I heard.

Liam: And also, Lord Elbie’s the only reason why he’s still able to attend balls and other public events.

I closely observed Alfons, who was on a table some distance away, from behind my glasses.

(Ah... there it is again...)

(I get the feeling that Alfons is smiling, and yet he’s not at the same time… at least, I think.)

His smile suggested — superficially — that he was having fun, and yet at the same time it looked awfully cold.

I remembered that very feeling of unease from the time I was close by, face to face with him.

(Here he is, playing around to his heart’s content, and yet he is pulling a face like that...)

Kate: Is this really fun for you…?

Roger: Oh?

Roger, whose chin was resting on the palm of his hand, peered at me with interest in his eyes.

Roger: What, you’re worried for Al, lil lady?

Kate: I-it’s not as though I’m worried.

Vigorously shaking my head in response, I turned back to him to see Alfons, a smile still plastered on his face.

(But...)

Kate: I guess it’s just... I don’t know, sometimes I feel like he isn’t really here or something.

K: He told me he likes having fun, but then here it looks like he’s not having fun at all... and I couldn’t help but feel a bit curious about that.

(...And on top of that, that could possibly serve as a lead to find out his weakness.)

(Even while playing around, he does not feel it’s fun. All that to say——)

(The so-called ‘playing around’ Alfons does could serve as a type of distraction, taking his attention away from something else...)

If I thought of it like that, it would make sense.

(And also, what else... if not that, then while he may be a playboy of many years, maybe he has a single woman in his heart?)

(Maybe the reason he plays around would be to bury the loneliness filling his heart... at least, that’s what’s commonly told in stories.)

As I bounced ideas in my own head and covertly stole glances at him for a bit...

(Ah!)

I saw Alfons stand up with several people, taking them out through the back door.

(...Oh no, I’ll lose sight of them.)

Kate: Let’s follow them!

Roger: Ahh, wait, Kate, I really don’t think we should...

R: ...follow them, is what I would finish with if she wasn’t gone already.

Liam: Umm, will she be okay? At this rate she might get caught up in something naughty, you know?

Roger: Yeah, I hear you.

R: Guess I’ll chase after her in case after another cup of beer.

Liam: That’s pretty nice for someone like you, you know?

Roger: Well, you just never know when something useful for research is gonna come out of it.

Roger then looked toward the door in the back of the pub.

Roger: ...You see, if there was one Curse where there could never be enough research on, it’d be his.

—— Kate’s POV ——

(I guess... this is the place...)

Going through a dim alleyway where sunlight could hardly make it through,

I followed the faint, flirtatious voices of men and women to a building that looked more like a ruin, before stepping inside.

As I ascended the steps made of brick with cracks everywhere to be seen, the voices also got louder...

(Is this the door...?)

When I pressed my ear against the door and made sure that voices were indeed coming from the other side, I turned the doorknob to the fullest.

Kate: ...!?

And when I opened it——

The scene unfolding before my eyes was a bed with a canopy attached to it and a light veil surrounding it.

That, and... several men and women whose bodies were entangled with one another.

(Wh...wha...)

That seemed to be all that was going on amid this room... and I didn’t know where to look.

Alfons: ...Hehe, following me aaall the way to such a place, such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you.

Kate: !?

Alfons emerged from behind the curtain, slipping his arms around my waist.

Kate: Wh—Alfons!

The moment I opened my mouth, though, a sickly saccharine scent along with what I guessed was either smoke or steam wafted up.

For a brief moment, I sucked in a deep breath, causing my vision to sway with dizziness.

(W-what in the... what is this... some kind of medicine...?)

Alfons: You could not be more painfully obvious in your tailing. Truly a hopeless little miss robin you are.

His voice seemed distant one moment and then close by the next, and in the end I couldn’t properly respond to him.

Lady in a lingerie: Ohh, Al, who’s that?

Long black-haired lady: My, she’s just adorable... say, would you like to join in on the fun?

Shirtless man: You must’ve been through some rough patches, right? We can forget about all of it here.

I was being pulled from either side of me, causing my body to sway left and right.

Alfons: ...is what they all said.

(Join in... on the fun...?)

My thoughts became more of a haze, and I couldn’t think clearly.

But, on the other hand, sensations alone seemed to become awfully elevated——

Kate: ah...

Alfons’ fingers made their way through the gap in my blouse, and the slightest movement of his fingers was enough for me to break out in goosebumps.

(The memories of last night... are engraved in my body...)

Kate: ah...p-please...stop...

Long black-haired lady: Hehe... what a green reaction... say, could I feel you as well?

Alfons: Now that just won’t do. You see, she’s a new favorite of mine.

Long black-haired lady: Ehh? That’s rare...

Even while listening in on this conversation, I couldn’t muster any strength in my arms or legs.

Alfons: It’s as though keeping your guard up never crosses your mind.

Alfons looked down at me leaning into his arms, his lips curved in an amused smile.

Those very hands that were around me traced the lines on my body before making their way between my legs, causing me to shiver on reflex.

Kate: a-ah...hyaa...? W-why am I...

(My body feels so hot... I feel I might go crazy...)

Alfons: Dare I say, I’m quite intimately familiar with every spot that makes you tick. Every one, that is.

A: After all, our relationship has become something more [1]... yes?

Alfons peered into me while smiling.

Maybe it was because of something I had inhaled, but I seemed to become more and more sensitive to the sensations on my body...

Kate: Mn, sto...ah, uhh... n-no...

Alfons: ...Aha, your lips say to ‘stop,’ and yet you’re quite wet here now.

A: Would it perhaps be safe to assume that when you were on my heels from the pub, you were anticipating this?

[1] ...And what if I was?

[2] I’m not sure.

[3] I wasn’t anticipating anything. (+4 / +4)

Kate: I wasn’t... anticipating... anything...

Alfons: Oh, is that so? Or is what I’m seeing before my eyes a mere facade...?

A: You see, the fragrance you inhaled is able to elevate a certain sensation to a certain extent——

A: So I reckon in your case, it’s simply spurring your obstinate nature, perhaps...?

A: ——How about I bring out what is truly in your heart?

(Huh?)

Suddenly, Alfons started looking around the room.

On the bed were empty cocktail glasses and earrings missing their pair,

along with corsets, garter belts, and neckties...

Alfons: Ahh, look at what we have here. This will do.

He picked up a fallen hand mirror, his arms withdrawing.

(What... is he...)

My head was still in the clouds, so I couldn’t grasp what he wanted to do, so I could only follow his movements with my eyes.

With a small laugh in my ear, he flipped the mirror over.

Kate: ——Wh, no...!

There reflected on the surface was my shameful self.

His fingers crawled beneath my wrinkled skirt, going beneath my underwear before inserting them into my wet spot.

Being shown myself as he was doing this hit me with so much confusion and embarrassment I wanted nothing more than to turn on my heel and run out of here.

Kate: N-noo...

Alfons: So you say, but see here, you feel really, really good right now, no?

The truth was——it was exactly as he said.

In fact, seeing myself being in a shameful mess seemed to play into the pleasure, lighting a flame in my body.

And that realization caused me to spiral into even more confusion.

Alfons: Now, how about you cease your efforts to search for something that does not exist at all, such as my weaknesses and whatnot. It is all futile at best.

A: Instead, give yourself in to pleasure, why don’t you?

Kate: ah, ah, ah...

Amid the laughter and coquettish flirtations that filled the room, my own voice mixed with wet sounds.

Eventually, I could no longer stand, and I collapsed——onto the large, canopied bed.

Alfons: See, you would like to feel even more pleasure, don’t you?

I looked at that plastered smile that masked his face.

The feeling of the sheets on my back, the breath close to my body, and the feeling of his hands slipping under the hem of my clothes...

(...Has Alfons always been doing these things on this bed?)

(Just how many times did he do this before... and with whom...?)

(Will I just become... an addition to that body count...?)

Kate: gh...

When I thought this, I pushed Alfons away, hard.

Alfons: Whoops.

Kate: ...I-I’m heading back——!!

When I got off the bed in haste, the hand mirror fell to the floor.

I heard the sound of the mirror shattering, but I couldn’t bear to pay it any mind.

Alfons: My, is that so? Do be careful on your way back then.

Alfons was still sprawled on the bed, an easygoing air about him.

And wanting to say something, I turned back toward him, just this once.

Alfons: ...Did you need anything else? Or perhaps you have some lingering desire to continue where we left off?

Kate: I...

K: I wanted to say that you better cut back on the liquor, and don’t stay up all night. Unless you want to destroy your body. That’s all!

I just blurted out what was on my mind, so they sounded more like a sharp parting remark...

(Urk...)

And starting to feel embarrassed, I turned and left the place, this time without turning back.

Alfons: ......... [surprised]

The door then closed behind Kate in a hasty motion.

Alfons: ...Pfft, ahahaha!

Alfons burst out into laughter, holding his stomach, paying no mind to anyone else around him.

Behind him, the others continued making out as always.

Alfons: Haa......... truly, what a fool you are.

—— Kate’s POV ——

My legs trembling, I bumped into this and that while making my way down the alleyway, when I felt someone’s arms reach out to support me.

Roger: Whoa. You okay there, Kate?

Kate: Haa... haa...!

(Tailing him proved fruitless...)

As I expected, Alfons was truly living a decadent life.

(The only thing I could get out of this was that this irrefutable truth was burned into my mind.)

(And once again, I fell into his trap and got caught up in pleasure...)

(I could not grasp a single weakness of his in the end.)

Liam: Your breathing is really uneven right now... are you okay?

Kate: Yes... I’m okay.... I won’t ever give up...

If I do, I’ll only end up being played all over again by him. ...And besides,

(Even after having gone through all this, I——)

I wanted to know the reason why, for all his smiling, he didn’t seem to be having fun... to the point it gnawed at my heart.

to be continued…

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NOTES:

[1] Alfons says [ただならぬ関係] (tada naranu kankei) here, which I have translated as a relationship that has become something more. I think he is quoting something he had said from the previous chapter, where he was like “our relationship has become more than a one-night stand” to Kate. Another way to say this could be along the lines of “we share a special relationship,” thereby removing the become part, but I wanted to sort of emphasize the quoting part, so I directly extracted from the line in the other chapter.

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