#the past 2 weeks were the most tiring but was worth it

[chizramue]

Enjoyed playing in Addams family musical

[itstimetojellyfish]

These days , have not been the best.( Dan Heng x Reader)

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Useless .

Everyone calls you that .

“Not even worth a single penny . “

“Don’t waste your time on them.���

You don’t blame them though , you were supposed to be there , helping others like you promised .

However , you left suddenly. This was because you had suddenly contracted a disease . If only you had taken the vaccine…. Then maybe rumors wouldn’t circulate around you .

Maybe the false information about you seeing another other than your dear lover wouldn’t be online and you would instead be in his arms sleeping .

( You hate yourself for being so weak)

Instead of being in the archives sleeping on your lovers futon with his other form wrapped around you , you’re sitting down in a cave on the planet you landed on .

Cold , alone , wet , and utterly miserable.

When the first rumors came out , Dan Heng saw them immediately, then he sought you out , seeing you talking with another man .

After you were done talking, he immediately confronted you about them , you thought he was foolish for believing them .

( You forgot that he revealed his past and now he’s insecure about your relationship)

You pay the price now .

People badmouthing you, tripping you , and even shoving you around , resulting in injuries that would leave a scar , both emotionally and physically.

Now , usually Dan Heng or the other Astral express members would help you , but ever since the rumors came out , they avoided you and seemed to loathe you .

( Do they all believe those lies?)

Your heart was torn apart and burned .

The one you loved most wouldn’t even spare a glance at you.

The people you deemed friends wouldn’t help you .

So now you’re on a cold , barren planet , abandoned , shivering , and crying .

(You wish they would’ve at least given you a blanket. )

(But you know you don’t deserve any kindness for being so weak and pathetic.)

So you sit there . Letting the cold wind slice through your clothes and hit your vulnerable skin , you start to pale .

You’ve always had problems with your body temperature. Usually you carry ice packs or blankets with you if the planet was cold or hot .

But the people left you here without alerting the Astral express so now you have no way of going home and sleeping.

You’re tired .

Cold too .

Soft pattering and loud thunder alerts you that it’s raining .

( You wish Dan Heng was here )

You curl in on yourself as a mock attempt to mimic the warmth your lover gave you when you were cold .

It’s useless .

Your arms are too small and cold , you don’t have a jacket or a soothing voice .

Your heart throbs and wails for at least a bit of affection , it doesn’t have to be a kiss , it doesn’t have to be a hug .

All you need is someone that cares for you .

Nothing else .

Nothing more .

You hate being alone . It makes you feel weak , vulnerable, and pathetic. It also reminds you of how much everyone hates you .

You sit there in the cave with barely any food for 2 weeks . Water is available since it rains pretty often .

You have a wound with an infection on your stomach and your legs are weak . You broke an ankle earlier trying to get some berries up on a mountain side .

Your stomach hurts and growls 24/7 and it’s making you vomit constantly .

Soon , you’re crying alone on the cold, rocky floor , stomach twisting unpleasantly as you writhe around in pain .

( You don’t hear the sound of something landing on the ground)

There’s a few clacks and then… you see pale skin and golden heels in front of you ..

Murmuring ensues and you wish that they would just kill you .

Then 2 pairs of black shoes come into your field of vision and a sweet voice gently whispers in your ears .

“ Hey… Y/N .. it’s gonna be okay , we’re so sorry be believed those rumors … “ Soft hands gently pull the slit on your clothes and an audible wince occurs as they see the gash on your stomach with an infection on it .

You close your eyes and go limp .

It sounds like March 7th. You miss her bubbly voice and tone .

Black fingerless globes come into your vision as you see a fluffy gray head . The gentle hands tilt your head and then you see amber eyes soften .

“ Dan Heng….medical… they’re …. “ The words coming from his mouth seem distorted and your eyes blink wearily .

You see bright red hair come into view as warm hands gently trace the wound around your stomach .

“ Poor thing…We’re so sorry for not coming sooner , your ankles broken too …”

You wince and whimper. The pain sears through your delicate senses as you try to escape it , though it doesn’t do anything other than amplify it.

Soon , you’re being lifted and you see the Astral Express come into view . Your eyes widen and then you squirm .

No! You can’t burden them again!

The arms carrying you shuffle to adjust your constant squirming , they then lift you up to the person shoulder and you see a pale white jacket .

A teal tail gently curls around your waist , careful not to disturb your wound and infection as they secure you in order to not open the wound your body tries so hard to close .

You whine . You missed this tail .. it would always caress your body and love it with all it could .

You made grabby hands in the air , asking for something you didn’t you know could get .

A warm fuzzy tip rubbed against your cheek as you slumped and curled in . The wound on your stomach stretching a bit making you wince.

A pink and blue head pops into your field of vision as you realize it’s Dan Heng holding you .

March looks at you with worried eyes as she sees how cloudy yours are .

Soon, you’re in the express , being stuck in a cuddle pile including Caelus , March, and Dan Heng , with at least 6 blankets on top of you as every one avoids the wound you have .

You had to stay at Herta’s space station for a while and then return to the Astral Express , the people who started the rumors about you are very much in the hospital.

They had almost gotten you killed without anyone knowing .

You gently turn on your side to see Dan Heng looking at you back.

You sit there like a deer in headlight . He gently places his hand on your chin before kissing you . His other hand trails down to your lower back and rubs it gently.

“ I’m so sorry” He nuzzles your forehead gently .

“ It’s … okay … “

“ These days haven’t been the best , so I’ll make the rest as good as I can.”

[hvman-scvm]

Hear me out,,, snuffed ! 141 x snuff filmmaker ! Reader.

Massive CW 4 general things you'd expect of a snuff film. Dark content ahead. (No r//pe or s/a) Maybe OOC ?

Price is the first one you planned 2 get rid of; he'd bring you less money anyways considering he's older than most of yr other victims. But man, was he fun. He put up one hell of a fight, cursing and fighting against the restraints.

It made you laugh.

You didn't bother too much with him, knowing tht the film you'll make out of him won't b as high demand as yr other ones. But you still made sure 2 have yr fun. You knew he was a captain, and the superiority you felt after you finally caught him and bound him 2 the metal chair was unmatched.

The tape was a mere 22 minutes 37 seconds of content; after a while he just.. stopped fighting back. He was clearly exhausted, and he knew it wld result in nothing but more of yr mean laughter. It was the shortest tape you've evr made. No fun in it if yr victim isn't giving you reactions.

So you quickly put an end to his life and painted the walls with his brain matter.

Then there was Soap, he was even more fun than his beloved captain. W his constant cursing at you laced in a thick Scottish accent, and his pretty blue eyes glaring daggers at the camera tht you pointed 2wards him B4 setting it on its stand, grabbing his face and making sure he looks directly 2wards it.

But soon his demeanor began 2 break. It may have taken a few hours of torture, but it was so worth it.

He begun crying freely at the pain, he's faced a lot of it in his career; bullet wounds, stab wounds, blunt force- if you can name it, he's experienced it at least once. But none of it compares 2 this, 2 the pain you've been inflicting on him the past few hours.

A day of on-off torture was all it took 4 you 2 get bored. He was getting weak n tired, slipping in an out of consciousness. He simply wasn't fun anymore.

So his life was ended w a slash 2 the throat. His vacant eyes staring blankly at the still running camera.

And Ghost, oh boy. He barely reacted, barely flinching when you cut his mask w yr knife n ripped it off his face. He was quite the looker, you can't lie. He barely reacted 2 yr torture; refusing 2 give you the satisfaction. But you were determined, n you weren't gna stop until you hear a sob.

All tht came frm him were grunts and hisses, no matter what kind of torture you inflicted on his big, scarred body. He just wanted this 2 b over w, hoping you'd get bored n end his life so tht he doesn't have 2 endure any of his pain anymore. Both the pain you were causing and the pain tht came w being Simon Riley.

But after 7 hours, after you took a break n he barely regained consciousness, you finally got what you want. You had slammed down the hammer in2 his thigh, determined 2 break the one bones thts hardest 2 break. Thts when he finally yelped in pain. More noises kept spilling out of his throat as you slammed the hammer over n over again against his thigh in hopes of breaking his femur.

You had kept him 4 a week, made 3 tapes of him, and currently filming his 4th- and last- one. You had used the same gammer you attempted 2 break his femur w, n bashed his head in until it was mush.

Then there was yr little snuff prince, as you had lovingly nicknamed him, Gaz. He refused 2 look at you, nor the camera. Just kept his head down the whole time. His eyes were so pretty as you lifted his head 2 look at you. What you weren't expecting, however, was 4 him 2 spit right on yr face.

You loved it. Loved his reactions. Loved how pretty he was.

You knew he was going 2 help you make a high demand film. How cld any1 resist seeing a man as pretty as him get tortured within an inch of his life ?

You made multiple films of him, he was yr only victim tht lasted this long. But good things must come 2 an end.

His fate was hanging. He was too weak 2 fight you as you put the noose arnd his neck. You adored the coughing n gasping tht left him as he was lifted in the air, his legs kicking blindly B4 tensing and eventually going limp. You watched w glee as the life slowly left his eyes, n made sure the camera was close enough 2 pick up on tht.

[simplyzeeka]

Episode 2. Season 1

Lingering

But I'ma be someone to know soon

Come fuck with me

I aint got no plans for the weekend

Don't know what you was thinking.

Warnings: MDNI! Sweaty Terry in a wife beater, subtle flirting.

Summary: Where Syrae and Terry meet two times too many and sparks seem to fly yet again.

Author's note: everything in italics is a flashback.

Were degrees worth it? A single piece of paper, that only showed that you were eligible to work in a certain field. It didn't guarantee that you would even find work. Syrae often wondered all of this when it was time to open a book and study for her damned Dental Science degree.

With an assignment yet to be submitted, she had to grab her laptop and use her favourite cafés Wi-Fi, since the Wi-Fi in her ran down building was down every other week. Unfortunately for her (and her bank account), that meant she also had to constantly buy something to stay in the café. “Just a coffee will do, thanks.” She said to the waitress with a kind smile before turning back to her laptop.

She was stuck, tired and honestly so over life in general. Having to constantly click in and out of tabs to search for textbooks she couldn't afford was beginning to seem tedious, and she wished she would've gone to the local library instead, but something about the dust there always had her feeling a little itchy. As if her place was any better.

“Fuck me.” She groans lowly, taking off the glasses on her face and placing them on the table. She quickly saved her work and shut her laptop. Clearly she was not going to be the most productive.

Not only was she completely over this degree, she was exhausted from having to now work weekdays at the club. Syrae was falling a bit behind on rent, and that meant having to pick up shifts at the bar. “Thank you very much.” She said to the waitress as they placed her cup on the table.“You're welcome, ma’am. By the way, your check has already been settled by that man over there.”

With a frown, Syrae looks over to where the woman pointed. A tall man, piercing, green eyes and an intimidating aura despite the closed smile on his face. A tall man she has worked overnight trying to get out of her head, especially considering his situation.

“Your fiancé know you here?” A question slips past the sly smile she had on her lips. He chuckles, gaze unmoving, needing to commit her beauty to memory.

“It's my bachelor party, pretty sure she doin’ the same thing as me.” A shrug, he wasn't worried, pretty confident he would maintain his fidelity. “Hmm, a shame really.” her voice echoes, flying like pretty little monarchs into his ear and straight to his stomach.

“And why's that?” Curious, he needed to know, even if it would kill him. “Cause I could've given the greatest dance in your life.” because even if it did, satisfaction would most definitely bring him back. “You still can.” A nonchalant shrug, a mistake more than anything… because once lines blurred, it was hard to draw them again.

“Put it on me, baby.” And who would deny him with eyes like that? Syrae wouldn't, and Indigo? Indigo wouldn't dare to.

She knew she shouldn't entertain this in the slightest. The man was fine… too fine for her own good, but not only that- he was engaged… Well married by now and that was a no-no zone.

So Syrae only smiles, mouths a curt ‘thank you’ before she opened her laptop, trying to look like she was occupied.

Her attempts fail, because Terry frowned at the interaction. Clearly not satisfied, he walked over to her secluded table in meticulous steps, not wanting to seem too forthcoming and eager.

“Uh, hey? Hey, I'm sorry. I figured the message may seem malicious, and that's not the-”

Oh but Syrae was already on his ass, interrupting with a sigh and an unbothered look. “Look, I don't know what you thought this was. But that night was work. I'm not some piece of hot ass you could use to cheat on your wife. I might be a…dancer, but that don't mean I'm unethical.”

Terry placed his coffee on the table and raised his hands in surrender, before looking around then back at her. “Woah woah, that wasn't my intention. I wanted to apologise… for anyway I might have acted that night, actually. I had a bit much to drink, and I don't hold my liquor well.” He explains with a small frown.

Syrae's shoulders relax a bit, he seemed genuine for the most part. “Hmm, you were quite bold.” She jokes with a small smile. “I'm sorry, I just get a lot of thirsty husbands asking shit like that, and-”

It's Terry's turn to interrupt, a short laugh. Too short for Syrae's liking because the rumble was a smooth honey that had little dragonflies fluttering in her stomach. “Nah, you good. I get it. I'm not like that.”

“Of course you not…” Syrae whispered, loud enough for him to hear as they inspected each other with gentle smiles. It took a while for Syrae to notice that their eyes lingered a second too long, so she cleared her throat, pursing her lips as she straightened her posture.

Terry broke his eyes from hers, retrieving his coffee from the table before bidding his goodbyes. “Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Indigo.”

Syrae internally cringed at the use of her stripper name outside of work, but mustered up a smile anyway. “You too. Thanks…again.” Everything about this was so awkward, she was glad when he simply nodded his head and turned to walk out the café so that she could finally release the breath she was holding.

Until a brown object caught her eyes on the floor. She squints and notices that the plain, brown woven leather just so happened to be his wallet. With determined haste, she stood and ran out the café, eyes scanning the sidewalk only to see nobody.

“Damn. Long ass legs.” She did what any other person would. Opened his wallet in hopes of a number, and luckily for her, she saw a business card with a number on it. Mike's Auto Masters. Below were a few numbers on how to contact the owner, followed under a name. Terry Richmond.

“Welp, looks like we gotta catch him again. God, why are all the fine ones taken.” She whispered before walking back into the café to finish her coffee and retrieve her belongings.

“Can't believe that you, Syrae Belles, is bout to break a rule.” Broisa, a fellow friend of Syrae comments as she lays stomach down on the couch.

Syrae rolled her eyes, a sigh resonated deep in chest. “I'm not breakin’ a rule girl.” She stated, “where else I'm ‘sposed to give this man his wallet?”

Broisa was annoying and noisy, Syrae couldn't believe their friendship survived as long as it did. Broisa was a beautiful dark-skinned woman. Working as a bottle girl at the same club Syrae worked in since she claimed pole dancing was too much of a work out for her.

“At the club? Where he met you?” the sassy woman replies as if the answer was that obvious. “You the one who made this whole rule bout not meeting your clients outside of he club, now here you are… breaking it.”

“I wouldn't say he's my client, Broisa. I only danced for him once.” Syrae defended with a sigh as she popped a chip in her mouth. “Yeah, one dance too many. Now he payin’ for your orders in cafés and shit.”

Syrae regretted telling Broisa about Terry. All she needed was one story to spiral everything into some hot fantasy where Syrae and Terry have an affair, despite her screaming men are trash, specifically for that reason alone.

“Broisa, please. I'm just meetin’ him at his shop tomorrow morning and giving the man back his wallet. Besides, ‘member when I told you he's married.” She emphasised the last word with a raised brow.

“How sure are you that he went through with the wedding?” Broisa throws back, “What if he told his wife he cheated and she left him at the al-”

“Woah now girl, cheat? I barely danced on that pole for an hour.” She laughs worriedly, Syrae doesn't condone cheating. Otherwise she wouldn't have shut himself down so quickly at the café. “Besides, he said that his wife went to a strip club herself.”

Broisa hums in apprehension, she has never really understood going to strip clubs for bachelor and bachelorette parties. Hell, she never understood those parties in general. Like hell will her man ever go to a strip club to celebrate his ‘last day single.’ She would turn that into his last day living.

“Anywho, where you go yesterday?” Syrae deflected with a question, “Had me blowing up your phone like I wanted your help burying a body.”

Broisa perked up at the question with a smile. “Tuh, girl! Tell me why Gage popped up on me?”

And just like that, the girls fell into a different conversation.

Syrae couldn't help but hum at the vast space of the auto repair shop. Clearly this Mike guy just recently built this shop from the ground up, everything was so pristine.

Syrae managed to call the number on the car and actually reached Terry himself, so they could arrange a time to meet a little after she found the wallet.

Back at her dusty apartment, Syrae can't help but to light some candles to help soothe her growing anxiety. Something about talking to this random stranger on the phone had her a little too nervous for a plausible explanation.

Still, she dialled the number and then listened to the phone ring as she eyed the flame on the herbal candle. When he heard the baritone of his voice she damn near slid off the couch. “Hey! Hey… uh. Hi, sorry.”

Embarrassing, that was embarrassing. The earth could open up and swallow her whole. If she still smoked weed, she would need fifteen blunts after this phone call. Syrae urged herself to get herself together in her head, needing so desperately to hold onto some sanity and clarity.

“Hey. I'm sorry, who am I talkin’ to?” And fuck did he have to sound so good? The way the phone amplified his voice made him sound finer than he usually does, despite Syrae only having heard his voice twice.

“Oh sorry, it's the girl from the café. I-Indigo? I got the wallet you dropped with me.” She explains, “Got your number on your business card.”

Terry sighs, seemingly in relief as Syrae interprets. “Fuck. Thank you so much, I was stressed out ‘bout that.” He laughed into the line, and Syrae clenched her thighs at the sound. “It's no problem, where would you like to meet to get it?” She asked immediately, needing to get off this damn phone.

There was silence in the line, “What bout tomorrow? I got an early mornin’ at work. You could pass by the shop and drop it off. That good?” He clarifies.

Stupidly, Syrae nodded her head as if he could see her. But she caught herself quickly and cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. That sound good. See you tomorrow then.”

The inside of the shop was quiet, but Syrae heard the faint sound of soft rock playing at the back. That was probably the garage where all the magic happened. Syrae looked around while walking towards the reception desk. “Mornin’, I’m looking for Terry? Terry Richmond. Here to drop off a package.”

Despite her kindness, Syrae noticed the condescending look the woman behind the desk gave her. “I’m sorry ma’am, he went out.” Syrae frowned at the snide smile on the woman’s face. Syrae couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. “Well in that case… Miranda.” She drags after looking at her nametag, “Could you tell him to come back from wherever he is and honour our appoi-”

“Oh, you’re here already? Is everythin’ alright?” Terry graced the women with his presence. Dressed in a loose wife beater that was tucked underneath blue overalls in which he used the arms to tie around his waist. Rippled arms exposed while he wiped oil from his hands with a cloth.

Syrae quickly averted her gaze from his sweaty build and turned to the receptionist. “Yeah, just peaches and cream. Miranda here was just assurin’ security.” being the petty woman she is, Syrae scrunched her nose at the woman for extra measure.

Terry scratched his neck, noticing the obvious tension. Women, he thought, something always had to be a problem. “O-kay. Let’s go to the workshop. Thanks Randa.”

Syrae suddenly frowned at him, because there was no need for them to go in the workshop, she could have just given him the wallet and went on with her day. She did not vocalise her thoughts however, simply followed his lead.

The workshop smelled like a cacophony of strong smells that had her nostrils burning. The faint scent of Terry’s cologne seemed to soothe the burn. It was messy, tools everywhere and car parts. A number of men carried tyres and tools around as loud machines whirring had her feeling a little overstimulated.

The lingering stares from men made her regret her choice of wearing a skirt, and following Terry back here. Why did she follow him back here again?

Thankfully, the man led them into a secluded room, which seemed to absorb all the noise. His office. “Sorry bout the noise, figured here would be better.”

Syrae looked around the office. It was neat, had her jealous about his consistency to keep his space clean. Her room was always a hotspot for clean clothes on the floor with the way she raided her own closet everyday trying to find an outfit. “Yeah,much better.” she responded nervously, because nothing about being alone with this man was better.

“Oh, your wallet.” she said as she dug into her bag and handed him the leather accessory. “Right, thank you. A lot. I was ramming my head ‘bout it.” he laughed and Syrae reciprocated the gesture.

“You should be. Why you put everything in there? The poor thang can barely close.”

Terry let out a shoulder-shaking laugh, one that had Syrae wondering about how he liked his breakfast in the morning, or whether he preferred movies or reading, morning or night. Out of the two times she’s met him, she’s never seen him smile with all his teeth out like he was now. “Oh so you were snooping?” he asked with one thick eyebrow raised.

Syrae rolled her eyes playfully, “How else was I ‘sposed to find your number, which you have quite a lot, sir. You deal with pharmaceuticals or somethin’?” she eyed the man as he leaned on the desk with his arms crossed over his chest,only further flexing his deliciously muscular arms.

“Now what if I was and you askin’ that so boldly.” He laughed and shook his head. “But nah, I don’t.”

Their eyes lingered a few seconds too long, which Syrae broke her eyes from his. “Oh, I bought you some coffee, just to say thank you… for the other day.” she reached her hand towards him with a short smile. “Ain’t know what you like, so I just went with black with two sugars.”

Terry accepted the coffee with a quiet murmur of gratitude, hummed in gratitude at the taste. The coffee was more or less how he took it. “You did good, how you figured I would like it black though.”

“Well, you seem a little… practical and straight-forward. Someone who appreciates the simpler things in life. And you also look a little broody.”

Terry shook his head, taking no offence to her last comment. He often got people telling him that. Even his wife. “Hmm, and what about you?” he probably should not be flirting, he definitely shouldn't be. But just a little banter wouldn't hurt, and Syrae seemed to have a lot of it, it was refreshing.

“What about me?” and she shouldn't be entertaining any of this, but the way Terry was staring her down with those damn eyes. He was reeling her in, hook, line and sinker.

“Are you simple?” The question was, well�� simple. But Syrae began overthinking it. The depth of it had her thinking over her entire life. “Hmm, I believe I’m a little more complex than that.” It was a joke, just something to keep the conversation going, although it should be put to an end, because Syrae failed to realise that Terry had long removed himself from the desk. Probably when she was handing him the coffee, his scent tickled her nose forcibly. Old wood and cocoa butter.

“How complex?” It was a leading question, an eager one too. One that had her slowly blinking to think it over, that had her biting down on her bottom lip. Her heart thumped a little faster, because damn Terry’s eyes were so beautiful. He had no reason being as beautiful as he was, had no reason to send waves of heat to her stomach that made the dragonflies grow tenfold. The fluttering caused a slight feel of nausea in her stomach.

Still, despite being so nervous, she smiled. “You tryna find out?”

Fuck, why did Syrae follow him back here again?

[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

Done

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Platonic Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: You've had a crush on Dean for awhile now and you're so hurt and tired of watching him flirt with every girl and you finally tell him how you feel.

A/n: For like a week I've kept thinking about this scenario in my head and I wanted to share it with everybody. This is my first attempt at writing a full story so I hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry if it's bad:)

Word Count:1.7k- way longer than I thought it was going to be

Warnings: Language, slight angst, little but of fluff at the end, implied smut. Let me know if I missed any!!

You had been hunting with the Winchesters for about 3 years now and it had been some of the most terrifying yet fun years you've had in awhile. You met the boys when they were hunting a Djinn who had trapped you in a dream where you could live out your life with your parents who had passed away when you were 8.

You guys were heading back to the motel after a grueling vampire hunt that you guys had been working on for about a week. When you guys got to the motel there was only 2 rooms available which meant you had to share with one of the brothers.

"I call my own room." Sam had said quicker than you could comprehend then tossed you and Dean the key to your guys room and then departed to his room to take a shower. You would have preferred to share a room with Sam because he was your best friend and he was fun to be around. You didn't mind sharing a room with Dean but you've been in love with him for so long it's getting harder and harder to control your feelings.

You knew he would never think of you like that because everywhere you go Dean always finds some random girl in a bar or some girl on a case to flirt with and he has no shame about it whatsoever. It's so hard to sit back and just watch as the man you love flirt with everyone in sight, not to mention he's not quiet when he decides to bring a girl home, not even blink an eye towards you. You knew why he wouldn't wanna be with you, you weren't as pretty or skinny or interesting as all the other girls. You were just somebody who followed them around and was like a sister to them.

"Looks like there's only one bed so it looks like we'll be sharing, unless I get lucky then I'm sure you can stay with Sam." Dean had said with his signature smirk that you loved but right now was just pissing you off. You didn't know why that comment had set you off tonight but you were done with all his bullshit.

"Whatever Dean, I don't really care anymore. I'll just go sleep outside so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want." You said with your back against the wall. You were honestly just so tired from the hunt you didn't really care anymore.

"What the hell is up with you Y/n? You've been so angry and snappy towards me lately and I haven't done shit to you!" Dean said taken aback by your rudeness towards him. He'd noticed you'd been off the past few weeks with him but he couldn't figure out why.

"Just forget it. It's not even worth it. Just go find some random girl who's willing to throw herself at you and have a good night and leave me the hell out of it!" You said and then stomped away to head into the bathroom to take a cold shower to try and calm yourself down.

The motel you guys were staying at was only 5 minutes away from the Roadhouse and once you got in the shower you heard the hum of baby drive away knowing him and Sam were heading to the bar. You knew Jo was gonna be there and you knew how flirty she was with Dean every time you guys came around and the thought killed you of what was gonna happen tonight.

After you got out of the shower you decided to stop feeling sorry for yourself and got dressed in a cute black lace tank top with some dark blue skinny jeans and black high heeled boots, did your hair and makeup and walked 5 minutes down the road to the bar. When you got there you immediately see Dean sitting down at the bar with Jo standing way too close to him and laughing at something he was saying. You headed over to join Sam at a table he was sitting at doing research about your guys next case. You sat down next to him and let out a long sigh while continuing to stare at Dean and Jo.

"You know he's a blind idiot Y/N, he doesn't know what he's doing to you and he's not gonna know until you say something to him." Sam says as he can't help but feel bad knowing how much you care about Dean and him not feeling the same way.

"No Sam you don't get it! He's so blind and selfish and it's just so frustrating and I can't take it anymore." You finish your rant not realizing that you had started yelling and now everyone was staring at you including Dean and Jo. You immediately stood up and ran out of the bar and started walking back towards the motel. When you got there you slammed the door and began to start crying.

About 5 minutes later you hear baby pull into the parking lot and try to compose yourself before Dean comes in because you know he's gonna want to talk about what had happened. Dean unlocks the door and sees you sitting on the bed looking sad.

"Okay seriously Y/N you've been mad at me for weeks, you can't be in the same room as me for more than 5 minutes without wanting to rip my head off and now suddenly your causing scenes in bars for no reason, what the hell is going on with you? If I did something wrong I'm truly sorry but you need to tell me what it is so I know how to fix it." Dean says now kneeling in front of you trying to read your face.

You immediately stand up to get space away from you and him before deciding what to tell him. "You know what fine. I'm so tired and so done competing."

"Competing with what sweetheart?" Dean said causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies at the name

"I'm done trying to compete for your attention. I'm done trying to make you see me. I'm done I can't do it anymore it's to exhausting. I know I'll never be someone you think is attractive, I'm not as pretty as any of the girls you flirt with or as smart as other girls. I'm just ordinary and I can understand why you wouldn't wanna be with someone like me and so I'm just done." By time time you had finished with your rant your cheeks were stained with tears and you were sitting against the wall avoiding eye contact.

It took Dean a minute to make sense of everything that you had just said. It broke his heart seeing you like this because he really did in fact care for you and the fact that he was the one hurting you tore him up inside. He took a deep breathe before kneeling down in front of you and he put his finger under your chin forcing you to look up at him.

"Are you crazy? Of course I love you, you're amazing, smart, beautiful, strong, sexy, you care about me, you make me feel like a human and not some monster. You're so loving and you see the good in me even when I can't. You are everything to me Y/n and I'm so sorry that you were feeling this way. All those other girls are just things I use to get my mind off of you and to make myself forget how bad I am for you." This causes something to shift in the room because now you are suddenly concerned about how Dean is feeling.

"What do you mean? How are you bad for me?" "Let's face it Y/n, I'm a monster, I push everyone away, I don't know how to talk about my feelings, I'm so angry all the time, I don't know how to love someone properly. Which is why I couldn't let myself fall for you any more because I knew I would just end up hurting you." Now suddenly he's the one refusing to make eye contact with you as he stands up and faces away from you.

You get up off the floor and walk up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder "Dean, I can't imagine being with anyone else. You're not a monster you are a loving caring person who would put their life before anyone else. I know you may not see it but you are one of the greatest people I know and I would be lucky if you would be with me. Relationships have hard times that's part of being in a relationship but we can get through it together and figure it out as time happens."

"I love you Y/n I want to try being the best and most caring boyfriend I can be for you." He says finally looking into your eyes for the first time since entering the motel room.

"I love you too Dean." You look up at him and smile

He looks down at you and slowly moves his head towards yours he then rests his forehead on yours and slowly connects your lips together. The kiss started out really small and timid because this was uncharted territory for the both of you. As the kiss started to heat up he licked at your bottom lip asking for permission and you quickly let him in. He brought his up and rested them on your hips and started walking you backwards to the bed. He slowly laid you down on the bed and broke the kiss to admire your face. He looks down and smiles at you. He's so glad he can finally be able to call you his and let everyone know that you are his.

He reconnects your lips and slowly starts to drag his fingers down your chest and down to your thighs.

"Let me show you how much I love you." You quickly nod your head yes and smile into the kiss as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head. You know this is gonna be one of the best nights of your life.

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 15

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: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 15.4k 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.* Idiots in love, silly stripper routine, unserious reference to foot fetishes, mention of rimming, oral sex (m and f receiving), 69, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, vampire bite, blood drinking, use of a safe word, alcohol consumption, PTSD, anxiety/fear, panic reaction. Summary: Picking up where the last chapter left off, Max and Dolly share a night of intimacy that makes their time in the past even more precious. Nothing lasts forever, though, and there are less easy nights ahead. Notes: For this week's photo, have a peak at the guest bedroom that inspired Dolly and Max's getaway. This is the second floor guest room at the Vanderbilt's summer cottage, standing in for a guest room in their 5th Avenue palace. (And, as usual, forgive any errors I may have missed in proofreading. I really have to learn to do it before I get too sleepy.)

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

"Tired, sweetheart?"

"Not at all." You've said goodnight to Renee and to Emmanuel's valet already, telling them you don't need help getting ready to sleep tonight, and that leaves just you and Max alone in your room together with a fire to keep you warm. "I do want to go to bed, though."

“Mhmmmmm.” Max licks his lips and winks at you. “Then we will have to get you out of that ballgown.” He tuts after he says it and frowns. “And I can’t rip it off you since it’s back in the future.”

"Most of it is just untying bows," you remind him, but your fingers feel for the seam on the left side of your bodice and start to unclip it carefully. This is the part that requires care. If anything underneath gets torn? Well...that's just an unfortunate accident.

Max decides that he should slip off his tailored coat, hanging it over the back of a chair before he's assisting you – wearing his vest and button down, shirt and tie still. "The loveliest bow I've ever unwrapped." He murmurs. "You are a gift, Dolly." Max has always flirted, always shmoozed, but with you – the pretty words come naturally and from the heart.

“If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d say you were too over the top to mean it.” He helps you with the hooks and clasps of your skirt and slipping out of your bodice, so that you’re just left in your many layers of underthings. The pretty corset cover would be a shame to lose, so you quickly set to work on those buttons.

"When it comes to you? Never." Max promises, wanting to rip everything off of you, but he also wants this to be romantic. Slightly afraid that your ex had been rough in the bedroom and doing that would trigger you, he keeps his hands steady and slow. Deciding that he will seduce you.

The ties holding each petticoat in place are easily pulled open, and each one is pulled over your head and tossed aside with little ceremony but enormous amounts of anticipation until you’re in just your stockings, corset, and chemise. It’s not that Max has never seen you naked. He has literally helped you wash, held you while you cried, and tasted your essence straight from the source. You’re not embarrassed to be seen by him. It’s just that the anticipation around this night has built up so distinctly that your skin has a layer of goosebumps just from wondering exactly how it will happen. The careful removal of your last few layers leaves you breathless, his cool fingers delicately shedding each piece of fabric from your skin like he’s plucking the petals from a flower.

Max’s fingers skim the underside of your breasts, not cupping them and just teasing with the cool brush of them. “Dolly…” he hums as he ducks his head and kisses along your neck. “We’re alone now.” He reminds you. “Tell me what you want.”

“It…seems pretty straightforward to me?” It’s also borderline impossible to think with Max’s lips on you, and you struggle to pull your thoughts together based on that one distraction alone. “I—I want to make love to my soulmate.” It seems ludicrous to say it out loud like that. Old fashioned and sentimental. But…the reality is, that this is sentimental. It’s the most sentimental you’ve ever felt in your life. Because Max is worth that emotional weight. Right now the only weight that isn’t worth it is the last of your clothes, which he helps you out of with eager hands.

“Romantic and slow.” Max decides, smiling against your skin and kissing your pulse. “Strip you down and kiss every inch of your skin. Before I finally slide inside you.”

“Hmmm,” you hum, swallowing a gasp when he nips at your pulse again. “Romantic torture? Actually sounds pretty sexy.”

“Not torture, worship.” He corrects you, sliding his hands over your bare stomach and down your hips. “Show you what you deserve.”

“Baby…” Turning around in his arms, you smooth one hand over his shaved cheek and bite your lip, holding back a worried pout. “You’re not in competition with my demons, love. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” He promises softly. “I am better than your demons and I want to prove it.”

"Conversely?" You step closer to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "In some cultures you would be considered a demon in your own right. So maybe we're just fighting fire with fire?"

“I am a demon.” His eyes flash yellow and he smirks. “A love demon.” It’s a joke, one to make you laugh.

“A desire demon?” Teasing him right back, you easily press your body against his and trail kisses from his lips to his jaw and down his neck.

"Yes." Max groans and closes his eyes and tilts his head back so let you do what you want. "Your desire demon."

“Hmmm,” you hum against his skin, almost triumphant in the way he’s reacting to you. “Yes, you definitely are.”

You make his knees weak, growling quietly as his body tightens in pleasure. "Dolly."

"Mm?" Having someone as powerful as Max is shake for you is a little intoxicating, and you barely stop to mumble against his skin. "What do you want, baby?"

"I want you." He groans, making sure he doesn't tighten his hold on you too much. You are still human and delicate. "I want to see you cum again."

“Then we should finish getting you undressed.” One more nip at his jaw makes him groan and you grin unrepentantly before you declare: “I want to watch.” And get up on the bed with darkened eyes.

Max grins, winking at you as he starts to slowly undress. "Bam Bam, bum bum." He teases, rolling his hips playfully in a mock strip tease.

The sight of him undressing isn’t funny – by definition it’s the single sexiest thing you’ve seen in your life to date. The fact that he’s doing a Chippendale’s routine in a full tuxedo is what does it, sending you into a torrent of giggles on the bed.

He pouts at you, even though he's sending you an air kiss. "Are you laughing at me?" He huffs playfully. "You wound me."

“I’m laughing at the fact that you’re singing your own stripper music,” you promise him. “If you’d picked Pour Some Sugar on Me, I’d be laughing even harder. The whole thing is perfect, baby.”

He winks and turns around to shake his ass at you with a small twerk. Enjoying the way you are laughing and having fun. You had been so apprehensive about anything physical at the beginning and now look at you.

“Max…” When you say his name again it’s soft and sweet, as gentle as you’ve ever been in your life. This man has no idea how much he has changed your approach to life. How much lighter your heart is because of him. How much sweeter the world seems with him beside you. “I love you.”

Turning back around, Max beams at you. "I love you too." He promises, unable to resist rushing over to you to press his lips to yours. The bump of his heart making him shiver and hum against your mouth.

Urging him closer without breaking the kiss, one hand pulls Max toward you on the bed while the other shoves fruitlessly at his open trousers, trying to push them off of his hips in the same motion that you would have him beside you in bed. It feels giddy in a way, from all the giggling and the tender vows, and you swear this is the closest to being a romantically portrayed young lady in love from a period film that you’ll ever get in your life. And really? You love it.

Kneeling on the bed, Max gazes down at you lovingly and bites his lip. "Want to make this a night to remember, Queenie." He hums, leaning in and kissing you softly. "I'm going to kiss every inch of your body."

The urge to get one last tease in is too great, and you widen your eyes to a look of endearing confusion and distaste after kissing him back. “Even my feet?”

"Baby, a man's foot fetish isn't something to scoff at." He teases. "You don't want me to suck on your toes?"

You scrunch up your face and shake your head, letting out another soft giggle. “I can’t say it’s on my list,” you admit. “Ballet and ballroom feet aren’t exactly modeling-ready.”

"But you don't exactly have ugly feet either, love." He wrinkles his nose, but nods. "However I will leave your feet alone, but don't tell me I can't lick your asshole."

A slow tilt of your head shows you’re actually considering it, and after a second you shrug. “I’ve never tried it, so sure. Why not?”

"What?" His eyes widen in shock and he is absolutely flabbergasted. "Really? You— you never tried— and I can—?"

You shrug again, but you’re grinning over Max’s shock. “Nobody ever asked before. So nope. Never tried any of it.”

"Dear sweet baby Jesus..." Max slaps his hands together and looks up at the ceiling. "Thank you for giving me such an innocent little soulmate to turn into a dirty girl." He grins down at you wickedly when he says that.

“Cunt first, ass second,” you tell him, wagging a finger like he’s a naughty schoolboy. “Deal?”

Waggling his brows, he makes an 'x' over his heart. "Deal." He slides off the bed to strip down fully, clothes removed in less than five seconds and he stands in front of you completely bare.

“Get back here.” More than just wanting to see him, you want to touch him. The small touches and baby steps you’ve taken aren’t enough anymore. You reach out to pull him back on the bed, letting him loom over you and taking in all the defined planes of his body before you smooth your hands down his chest and over his stomach — down to dig your fingertips into his hips before looking up to make sure it’s okay for you to explore more.

"Do you want me on my back, Dolly?" He asks softly. "I will do whatever you want and let you do whatever you want to me."

“I just want to touch you.” Already your breathing has turned heavier, lust swimming in your stomach and in your eyes. “I don’t care if you’re standing or lying down or however you’re comfortable.”

Max shifts to his side, biting his lip as he stretches out for you. His hard cock is bobbing between you and he watches you as you look him over.

“Gods…” He really is gorgeous. It would be borderline absurd if you weren’t so giddy about him being yours. “I am a very lucky girl.” You hum, turning the tables on him and starting to kiss down his body instead.

"Shiiiiiiit." Max groans and bites his lip, keeping his eyes open as your mouth starts to caress his body. "Queenie, I'm supposed to worship you."

Barely pausing in your journey down his torso, you nip at both of his hips before grinning up at him. "Can't it be both?"

“You are full of surprises.” He huffs out, but he doesn’t move to stop you on your quest.

"You've been taking such good care of me." One hand on his chest encourages him to lay all the way back, and you shift yourself to kneel between his legs. "Let me take care of you for once," you insist, lowering your head to take his cock into your mouth with a groan.

He had not expected that. Head falling back onto the pillows, Max lets out a moan that would be embarrassing if he gives a shit. But he just lifts his head and watches you slowly roll your tongue around the head. “Sweetheart— fuck.”

Humming as you bob up and down on his shaft, you would be hard-pressed to believe before this that you had actually missed something as simple as giving head, but it's giving pleasure that you missed. Sharing in intimacy. Having a real partner. Max has done so much for you that extending this intimacy is a pleasure for you as well. Plus, his moans are exquisite. Every single sound out of this man is gold, and you want to hear every single way he'll gasp your name as you swallow his cock.

The urge to grab you has Max clawing at the sheets, desperately trying now to shred the fine silks that Mrs. Vanderbilt had ordered. It’s hard, especially the way that you are so eagerly sucking him. “Dolly, Dolly— baby— you gotta— I can’t—”

It almost pains you to have to stop, but the obscene popping noise that comes with pulling off of his length is far more satisfying than it should be. “Did I do something wrong?” Instinct tells you no, but you still want to check in with him.

“Fuck no.” He groans, reaching down and cupping your cheek to pull you up for a desperate kiss. “You’re just gonna suck my soul out through my cock.”

“And is that bad?” The kiss truly is desperate — sloppy and enthusiastic and full of passion. You’ll absolutely keep going if he lets you, but Max might have other ideas about how he wanted tonight to go.

“No, but I wanted to show off my amazing skills before I cum.” He huffs playfully. “And possibly weep while doing it.”

“Honey.” Your face softens, love tempering lust, and you cup Max’s jaw in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. “Believe me, if anybody’s going to cry tonight it’s going to be me. And they’re going to be happy tears. Only the happiest tears with you, I promise.”

“Only happy tears.” Max doesn’t even want those, but he knows you probably will. He kisses you again. “Now…if you really want to suck my cock, we can do a little Gilded Age face sitting?”

“I really do.” The confession comes with a smirk, and you nudge his onto his back again gently. “But if I’m too heavy on you or it’s not comfortable, tell me right away. Okay?”

“Queenie.” Max tuts and looks at you, completely offended. “Who do you think I am?”

“Well…” The real answer is that Derek and other previous boyfriends had never wanted to share this particular experience — but none of them really ate pussy to begin with. And that’s something Max excels at. “I didn’t want to assume…” is what you answer instead.

“Assume all you want.” He chuckles. “You can’t hurt me sweetheart, I don’t need to breathe.”

“I forget about that…” you mumble, cheeks warm with embarrassment but not so much that it dampens your enthusiasm. Max pats his chest and waggles his eyebrows when he lays back, encouraging you to give him all you’ve got — so you take him at his word. You settle your knees on either side of his head and intend to be at least slightly delicate about lowering yourself over his face, but Max grabs your hips with a growl and pulls you straight down to him eagerly, making you gasp in surprise as much as pleasure.

Max has shown you what he can do but he wants to improve on that. Really drive you crazy. His tongue isn’t shy, never hesitant as he dives into your folds with a happy groan. The symphony the two of you make right off the bat is enviable. Every groan Max rumbles into your folds comes out of your own mouth as a barely contained moan. The kind that have to be muffled somehow, and there is no way quite as good to stifle moans than by taking Max's cock back in your mouth.

Max hisses into your wet folds when you engulf his cock. Loving how eager you are for it and him. It makes him work even harder to make you moan loudly. It's the kind of overwhelming feeling that only feels better the more and more you put into it. The vibrations he gets from you moaning as you swirl your tongue around his cock move through him in waves and end up pushed right back into your pussy as he licks and sucks every possible inch of your pussy.

Max squeezes your ass, smirking into your folds as he slurps and sucks. Loving every dirty second as the two of you are in a race for pleasure. It really isn’t long before your thighs start to shake and your stomach tightens. Max knows your body too well even after so little time that he can shuttle you toward pleasure with a deft and expert hand. Or, in this case, tongue.

Groaning your name into your cunt, Max watches you. Feeling your pulse speed up and the heady arousal thickening on his tongue. Signifying you are close to coming apart for him. He grunts, squeezing your ass and bringing you back on his face more, nearly pulling you off his cock completely.

You know he's always careful with you, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the way his fingertips dig into your hips tonight almost makes you wish that he would one day. That he would go just far enough that you could still feel his grip on your thighs the next day as you go about your utterly normal life. While you know that he won't do that tonight, it feels far too good to care. The way you're careening toward your first orgasm of the night is too good to care about anything else.

Your breath catches and he knows you are about to come apart for him. Wanting to see it in all its glory when you finally break. There's no mistaking the way you shake for him. He knows it well by now and you're realizing that Max affects you in ways no one ever had before – whether that's talent on his part or the soulmate connection is up for debate. In the moment that the tether inside you snaps and you flood his eager tongue with cum, you're forced to pull away from him or really and truly you might be far too enthusiastic and choke on his cock before you can get further into the night. But pulling away means there is nothing to muffle your cries, and you force yourself to stifle a loud moan of his name to make sure that the house doesn't echo with the sounds of your pleasure.

The good thing about his strength is that he can move you around like a leaf on the wind. Bolting upright so your legs are dangling over his shoulders, the snarl Max gives is feral as he feasts in your juices. Slurping them down as if they were ambrosia, and they are. It’s the best something has tasted since he’s been turned into a vampire.

"Gods—" You hold tight to him as he drinks you down, every last drop licked from your lips and then from his.

He chuckles, a dirty, self-satisfied sound as he smacks his lips. “Was that good enough for our opening act? Or shall I show you again?”

You could prolong the night. You know you could. Make it last as long as possible and truly wring each other out. But you’re craving the closeness of having him with you and inside you in a way that you can’t quite describe. When Max cradles you in his arms again after you catch your breath, you can’t help the soft, breathy tone in your voice when you promise him: “I’m ready.”

Gently, probably the gentlest he’s ever been, Max repositions you. Wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and looking him in the eyes when you assure him. His eyes are light, almost yellow with desire but his words are soft. “Are you sure? You want me to make love to you?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Lying beneath him in this borrowed bed, it seems like the strangest thing in the world to say that this is right, but it’s all about him. It’s all about this time spent with your soulmate and finding your strength again — because he has loved all of you. Even the parts you thought were broken forever.

“Alright.” It’s out of character for him, or maybe out of character for the facade he wears for others, but Max is almost shy right now. The tenderest love shining on his face as he leans in to press his lips to yours. You trust him with the most vulnerable of things, your heart and the intimacy of your body. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” More fiercely and completely than you ever thought possible, and yet somehow that doesn’t make you scared. It makes you sure, and so you surge up to kiss him another time.

You are the bold one and Max finds that incredibly sexy. Groaning into the kiss as his body floods with a warmth that can only come from you. Easing you back down to the silken sheets and slowly starting to cover you with his own frame and your breath escapes into his mouth.

It feels also surreal to be desperate to be touched again, but when Max’s hand closes over your side to shift his weight above you and his lips connect with your pulse, you shiver. “I love you.” Murmured again with every ounce of honesty in your body, your legs wrap lightly around his waist to encourage him to settle in the cradle of your thighs.

“I love you, Dolly.” He nudges his nose against yours and slowly settles between your legs. His cock is achingly hard and throbbing against your core. “Tell me if you don’t like something.”

“I promise.” The welcome pressure of having him between your thighs only makes you pant more heavily, needing him as much as wanting.

“Good girl.” He hums, kissing all over your face and down your jaw. “My beautiful soulmate. All mine.” His hips slowly grinding against you, feeling you get even wetter as you squirm under his cool body.

"All yours." The first real press of the head of his cock against your entrance has you squirming, practically begging for more.

Max slides his hand between you, wanting to make sure there’s no slips, no uncomfortable misses that would cause you a second’s discomfort. Wanting this to be experience you deserve. “And I’m yours.” He promises, sealing that vow with a kiss as his hips slowly push forward and the head of his length slips inside you seamlessly.

That familiar first press is almost foreign after so long without it, but wanting it makes you sigh and lets your whole body relax to take him in. Blazing hot, soaking wet, and squeezing his cock tight, your body is as welcoming to him as it possibly could be — especially with your head tossed back on the pillow and a low moan of his name on your lips as he rocks his hips forward to fill your pussy more and more with each stroke.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Max moans, kissing your neck where you bare it. He wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your throat but he resists. “So good, taking my cock. You like it filling you up?”

“Fuck—” Even just the groaned out curse comes with a fervent nod of your head, and you squeeze your eyes shut or open them wide alternately and he presses inside you, slowly but surely. “Fuck, Max, oh gods—I—feels so fucking good, love.”

“That’s it, you’re so perfect. Fuck, I’m about to cum you’re so tight and hot.” Max groans into your lip, trying to stay connected as much as possible.

“Slow and steady, baby,” you encourage him breathlessly, rolling your hips under him to tell him it’s okay to move.

“I’ve got you.” He groans. “Gonna take care of you. Make sure you don’t have any complaints.”

“Could never.” Complain? About him? Fuck no. If anything, your mind is fogged with happiness.

It’s taking so long but finally, finally, his hips are flush with yours and he’s buried to the hilt again. Pausing for a second before the slow drag out of you begins. He wants to take his time, but he also can’t bare to pull out of you.

Slow and steady is truly it. Like Max doesn’t even want to leave the clutch of your body but he knows it will feel so Fucking good when he does.

Hissing, Max rolls his hips quickly back into you. “Fucking perfect.” He praises. “You’re fucking perfect, Dolly.”

The rhythm he sets is exquisite, carrying you through waves of pleasure by clinging to you every bit as hard as you cling to him. Of course everyone says that your soulmate is your perfect match, but you had never really thought it would extend this far. Never thought that when he slid his arms under you in bed to keep you as close as possible, you would feel like you had finally come home.

Max has always been a thorough lover. Call it ego, call it pure pride, but he wants his partner to sing his praises during and afterwards. This time, it’s more about giving. Wanting you to have nothing but bliss when you’re in his arms. The slight slap of his hips isn’t enough to jar you, just a subtle little sound.

Every roll forward is somehow the fullest and most blissful you’ve ever felt. Stifling your moans into endless kisses and letting your hands explore the plains of his body as he moves above you and never hold back from letting your own body respond to his. Every inch of you seeks him out, so your hips roll to match his and your hands clutch to keep him close even as he has you cradled against his chest.

“Never gonna let you go, Dolly. Never gonna let you go.” He groans out, holding you close and nearly panting against your throat. He’s so fucking overwhelmed by the feel of you, of your scent and softness. The feelings bursting inside of him has him melting into you.

"Staying right here," you promise him, gasping with every thrust forward. "With you."

"You are my other half, my better half." He moans, scattering your skin with kisses. "My Queenie, my queen, my life." Until you arrived, Max had been so focused on success that it was what he lived for, now he just wants to live for you.

"Love you —" A sharp, strong thrust makes you groan into his shoulder, and you clutch him tighter. "Forever, baby."

“Forever.” Forever is a long time, especially for him and yet if there is anyone he believes would love him for an endless amount of time, he believes that it would be you. There's no second guessing or doubting when it comes to you. Just love.

You both felt like you might shake apart when you were finally joined together, and that feeling hasn't abated. Every stroke is a scrub of your pussy walls as he pushes inside you until you feel so full that your heart swells along with everything else. It's lovemaking, in the purest and simplest definition of the term, and you've never felt so lucky in your entire life.

"Never felt like this." Max admits, pulling back to look into your eyes. His own are yellow now, his facial features slightly sharper than before but he's holding back from transforming. Taking more effort than usual due to how much you affect him. "Never."

"Max—" Your chest heaves and back bows under the shaking pleasure. "Do you—" Seeing his eyes makes the thought swirl, and you would be lying if you said it was the first time it had occurred to you since arriving in 1885. "Drink from me."

The vampire above you shudders, a full body shiver that races through him and vibrates against your skin. Eyes widening and brightening even more. Tinged with hunger, desire and concern all swirled together. "Are you sure?" His voice is deeper, raspier and stopped mid-thrust to stare at you.

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in it. No worry or hidden anxiety. Only the surety that it will make this night — this first time together — all the more meaningful. “I said forever, love. And I mean it.”

He hisses, fangs popping out of his gums and it's a miracle he doesn't bury them in your throat that second. "Tell me a word." He begs, sounding slightly pained. "A safe word."

The conversation in the woods seems ages ago, and napkin was never going to be a serious safe word to begin with. So when you force your mind to function just for half a second, what you come out with is “Traffic”, and that seems like as good a choice as any. There’s never going to be any reason to say the word traffic in bed otherwise. “And you’ll… you’ll let me drink from you, too?”

"Yes." He all but groans the word, nodding at the thought of you having a bit of his blood inside you, carrying him with you. "I will. Let you have it whenever you want." Although it wasn't technically addicting, the more vampiric blood a human drank, the stronger it made them. Some humans loved to drink as much as they donated in return. "It won't hurt." He promises, kissing your lips and then ducking his head to lick over your pulse.

“I love you.” Words of trust are the only thing that come from you now, as if to say that your love for him and your trust in him are entirely intertwined. That no matter what else happens between the two of you, the tether of this togetherness holds those two things in it for both of you forever.

"I love you." He growls the sentiment, pulling his tongue away from your skin just long enough to get it out. "Forever." He reminds you, right before his razor-sharp fangs slice through the thin layers of your skin to the beautiful, pulsing vein below the surface.

It’s pressure and a sharp pinch, just like having blood drawn at the doctor, but the difference in the moments after is enormous. At the first feeling of blood being drawn up through his fangs, your body shakes in pure pleasure and kickstarts the most unexpected, swirling, lasting orgasm that has ever wracked your body.

He had known you would cum from it. Had predicted it as sure as the sun rising every morning. Groaning as he mouths against your skin and retracts his fangs so he can suck, his cock still buried deep inside you is twitching as you pulse around him.

“Fuck— fuck— oh gods—” The feeling is so much more intense than you expected and so much more pleasurable, making you moan and whimper beneath him as the hot rush of orgasm courses through you. If that is going to happen every time he bites you, you’re going to need to be sitting or lying down each and every time.

He keeps rocking into you, filling you with every snap of his hips. Slightly harsher than before as he gulps down mouthful after mouthful of your sweet blood. It's like ambrosia and he has to remind himself not to drink too much.

His pace quickens, pushing you toward yet another orgasm even faster than normal, and you’re swimming in a lighter-than-air, almost out-of-body feeling as your moans grow louder and sharper. You have to untangle one hand from the silk sheets to slap over your own mouth because Max is still drinking from you, and it takes you another few seconds to realize that you have to be the one to stop him. “Max—” Keening his name into the night, The fingers of the one you still have on him are clawing into his back while the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens all over again. “Baby—traffic.” Starting to feel lightheaded is what tips you off, though you know that could still just be the sex.

Max freezes. The cool coil of dread knotting in his stomach as he pulls away. Lips stained with your blood as he searches your face. “What’s wrong, what hurt?”

“I’m okay,” you promise him, pressing a kiss to his lips and tasting the irony tang of your own blood in the process. “Just starting to feel pretty lightheaded.”

"That happens sometimes during sex." He assures you, leaning in and licking your neck to heal your wounds.

“I’ll remember for next time.” He’s frozen still inside you, but your body is aching and needed more despite multiple orgasms. “I didn’t kill the mood, did I?”

"Do you want to keep going?" He asks, frowning slightly. He wants to make sure that your safe word didn't mean a full stop for everything. "What do you want, Dolly?"

“I want to keep going.” You pick your head up and kiss the place where his pulse beats whenever your lips meet his. “Please?”

You can have whatever you want but he's relieved that you want to keep going. Not that he would have been upset, but because he never wanted to do anything to make you feel like you had to stop. "I love you." He promises, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours and slowly starts to move again.

“I love you, too.” Shifting beneath him, your legs come around his waist and your arms twine around his back, letting each thrust hit that much deeper inside you.

“Will you cum again for me, sweet girl?” Max groans, the taste of you still so robust on his tongue. “Will you cry out for me again?”

“Feel so good…” Already your breathing turns heavier, that powerful heaviness and electricity of just being connected to him piquing every feeling in your body. “Gods you feel so good, love.”

"I'm a lucky bastard." Max grunts, gathering up the remains of his control and feeling even closer to you now that he's drunk from you. Pulling you closer and rolling his hips and grinding into you rather than pulling out.

The intense grind of his hips rubs your swollen clit with each roll of his hips, working you up that much faster. Every thought but Max leaves your head, letting you focus on him and him alone. He can sense the changes in your breathing, in your heart rhythm. "You're gonna cum." He promises, ducking his head down and kissing along your throat. "Gonna come apart for me like a firework."

“Need you to cum with me.” You’re so close to the edge that you know this one is going to shatter you, holding yourself on the precipice of breaking apart at every seam and all you can do is beg him to follow you.

"Gonna." He promises, groaning out the word. Even though he doesn't need to breathe, he's choked up. Overwhelmed by the pure beauty of the moment. "Right after you do."

Whether he knows he’s giving you permission or not, you tumble off the cliff of one last climax, pouring your cry of his name into a kiss that tangles you together that much more. You shake apart underneath him, cunt squeezing him tight and heart pounding with every wave of your release.

Max shudders, absorbs the reaction of your body. Taking it into his soul and letting it burn inside him. Watching you as starlight burst behind your eyes. Making sure that you’re tumbling into pleasure before he thrusts deep, giving into his own needs.

The two of you lay together for long moments afterward, with Max cradling you close while you catch your breath. The feeling of being full is remarkable and oddly comforting, as the depth and the meaning of the moment washes over both of you. “I love you.” Another whisper into the candlelit-night, but it’s weightier this time. Most witches and vampires could only dream of bearing children together — but with your bloodline it is actually possible. Unlikely. Exceedingly rare. But possible.

He can sense what you are thinking about, the weight of it is also on his mind as well. "If we don't, we will still be happy." He promises you, stroking your shoulder lovingly and hoping he can keep that promise. "We can adopt or rescue puppies, whatever will make you happy and fulfill you."

“We have forever,” you remind him, within an almost wistful note in your voice. “We can do all of it.”

"Forever." He smiles. "We can do everything you want. Travel the world, and now, through time."

******

The next night feels like it's been pulled right out of a movie. The red, gold, and cream gown that Renee had laced you into is accented by a bold, beautiful set of ruby and citrine jewelry that Max and Yayo had found at the same jewelry store where Max picked out your ring. The elaborate hairdo and long, cream gloves make the long red velvet cape look positively purposeful, and you feel as made-up as could ever possibly imagine. The realization though, that you are not nearly the most elaborately dressed woman there, comes when you get out of your carriage. Annie and Emmanuel stand excitedly by on the steps waiting for Max to help you out onto the cobblestone, and her own pearl and diamond jewelry winks in the moonlight. It's simultaneously mystifying and yet so very easy to remember that this young woman is the same person who will one day be your mother, especially when she looks even more dressed up than she did in the photos of her wedding to your father. Annie is eager and smiling, eyes wide in the flickering gaslight on the street as the sign behind them proclaims the details for the production of Carmen that you are all about to see.

“I am so thrilled to be here.” She moons happily, clutching Emmanuel’s arm and smiling dreamily. This trip has been perfect and she cannot even imagine a more wonderful evening. “Box seats!”

"Your parents were very generous to allow us to use their box." Emmanuel is beaming with his newly minted fiancée on his arm.

“Yes, and I believe that we will have a grand time.” She coos, batting her lashes at him innocently. “Especially since we are also having a late dinner and dancing with the Vanderbilts.”

"We're looking forward to meeting more of their family." The invitation from Cornelius and Alice to join them at his brother's home for a soiree after the opera tonight was most appreciated, and from the way that Alice worded the invitation, you have a feeling that she might be looking forward to bringing guests who are exceptional dancers.

“Yes. I am so happy that we are here.” She turns her gaze to you and smiles. “And I get to enjoy your first opera by your side.”

You comb your mind for a long moment trying to decide exactly which kind of irony that statement is, considering your mother also took you to your first opera when you were ten years old and there was a production of The Magic Flute being performed in English nearby. Deciding it doesn't matter, you reach out to squeeze her hand when you reach the top of the stairs with Max and smile warmly. "I cannot think of anything that could make tonight better," you promise her honestly.

There is a dramatic sound of a bell, signifying that the guests need to find their seats so the opera can begin. “Oh there is Mrs. Astor.” Max leans in to tell you. “Everyone is here, apparently.” He’s smirking slightly, curious to interact with her now that he knows she’s also a modern woman in a primitive time.

“We should go and say hello to her at intermission.” You return Mrs. Astor’s small wave when she spots you across the lobby but follow your mother and Emmanuel and the young man who is escorting the four of you to your box. The blur around you — of color, of sound, of so many people so excited for the evening — has you grinning and giddy for the night in your own right.

"What I wouldn't give for my phone." Max murmurs to you. "Not to call anyone, but for the fucking selfies." He's joking of course, but high resolution colored photos from this time would be amazing.

“We could start an Instagram trend,” you joke quietly, holding into his arm as you take the stairs inside the opera house’s lobby. “Photoshopping your selfie into a historical period. Except ours wouldn’t be photoshopped.”

"Do you think people would question a selfie stick in this time?" Max asks, chuckling at the reaction to him pulling out the long telescopic tool.

“You’d get questioned like an inventor. Nobody loves gadgets like they do in this time.” The theater around you is so incredibly opulent that you really can’t look away — eyes bouncing from one thing to another like a kid in a candy store. “This place is gorgeous,” you murmur to him as you walk.

"Yes it is." The opulence cannot be replicated in your time. The attention to detail and craftmanship lost through modernization and mechanization of the world. They called it The Gilded Age for a very good reason and Max is mesmerized by the sight. "Nearly as gorgeous as my wife."

You throw him a grin and roll your eyes teasingly for good measure, but Annie overhears the last comment and coos dreamily at the two of you. “Flattery is Max’s middle name,” you tell her with a little laugh.

"A beaming bride makes for a lovely night." Max tells Emmanuel seriously, changing the popular phrase 'Happy wife, happy life' to fit into the times and your situation. "Romance her as much as possible and she will flourish."

“Every day,” the younger man promises, with sparkling stars in his eyes every time he looks at his soulmate. Emmanuel is a gentle, romantic soul and absolutely worships Annie. “Every day for the rest of my life.”

It's haunting, because he knows that it will be true. Just that the life will be cut tragically short and the rift from that time will vibrate through time to affect you. His hand is over yours that is wrapped around his other arm and he squeezes gently. Encouraging and supporting you. "Waltz with her." He tells the other man. "Every chance you get."

“I shall have to have a few pointers from you on that front,” Emmanuel chuckles. “I have never claimed to excel at dancing, although I do enjoy it.”

“I will give you lessons.” Max promises, unsure of when the horrible events with Emmanuel went down.

“And I will sing your praises to all of society for it.” Annie giddily leads Emmanuel to the open door of her parents’ box and takes your hand to have you sit beside her. “Not that you need my help. Your wife is a favorite of Mrs. Astor now.”

"Except Dolly never wants friends because of how they benefit her." Max explains. "My wife is a very loving and loyal creature. She has friends because of how they make her feel. And you are one of her dearest."

“I’m sure we should all benefit from such a shining example.” Emmanuel praises, smiling at how Annie reaches across to hug you tightly just before the lights begin to dim over the audience assembled for tonight’s performance.

One thing that Max doesn’t care for in this time, is the fact that to show too much affection is frowned upon. He releases your hand and wishes he could wrap his arm around you, but he doesn’t wish to cause a scandal, so he leans back and waits for the performance to begin.

Unbeknownst to both of you, wishing the very same thing, you slip your hand into his to thread your fingers together in his lap. This time may discourage public shows of affection, but your relationship does not. It’s all about balance.

Max looks down at your hands and smiles, catching your gaze when he looks up and he winks at you. Loving that you are in tune with him and his body leans in closer to you as the first lines are sung.

Carmen is a stunning opera. Dramatic, groundbreaking, emotional, and inspiring. By the time intermission comes you’ve been on the edge of your seat. The first half of the show has left both you and Annie breathless in the best way possible and your heart is hammering with it when the lights come up.

Max stands, helping you from your seat and he smiles at the dreamy expression on your face. "I can tell this will be a tradition now." He teases, having enjoyed himself immensely even though he had also been observing everyone else in the theatre as well.

“Modern operas have subtitles,” you assure him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “So you can follow along in English and not have to fight through the French or German or Italian.”

"How do they put subtitles on a live performance?" Max asks seriously.

“Screens.” Although the visual of actors with lyrics written on cards makes you grin as you whisper to him. “We’ll go. You’ll love how swanky it is, though nothing is swankier than chatting with the Astors at intermission and having dinner and dancing with the Vanderbilts afterward.”

"I don't think that we would ever be able to top this." Max admits with a grin, shrugging slightly.

“For now, let’s just enjoy it.” You hum, squeezing his hand again as you lean into his side. In this time, these people — they take their summers and seek out the beaches and the grandeur of Europe or beauty of mountains. And it’s clear to you after just a short amount of time that both you and Max love it here, but it isn’t where you belong. Perhaps, though? Just perhaps…you might take a leaf out of their book. And like the socialites of Gilded Age New York City take their summers away from home, you and Max might one day to decide to ‘summer’ in the Gilded Age. “For now, let’s go see the Astors.”

"Your wish is my command, my dear, sweet wife." He coos, smirking at you as the two of you glide down the stairs to the lobby. Refreshements are being served and no doubt you will have to leave his side to attend to your needs in the toilet, but for now, he will be satisfied by escorting the most beautiful woman in the room around.

Annie and Emmanuel elect to stay behind in the box and you don’t say a damn thing, preferring to just let them have their time to flirt and whisper back and forth while you and Max go and mingle. A glass of lemonade is procured for you so that no well-meaning friend or acquaintance will attempt to offer you wine out of politeness, and soon you spot the Astors at the center of a crush of admirers.

It takes a few moments for them to move through the crowd, too many people stopping to chit chat with her and her husband, but soon enough Lina is standing in front of you and pulls you in for a quick, fierce hug. "I am so glad you came." She whispers.

“How could we possibly turn down the invitation?” It doesn’t matter whether you mean the invitation from her or from your grandparents. Either way, you are here. “Are you enjoying it so far?”

"I did not think that I would, but I am immensely enjoying it." William skirts around the trains on your dresses and shakes Max's hand, speaking to him quietly as Lina chats with you.

“He’s enjoying himself here.” The two of you now your heads to murmur between you as though you were simply gossiping. “I think we might try to come back, if I can get the hang of traveling back and forth.”

"That would be wonderful." She squeezes your hand gently. "William and I would be willing to host you anytime you wished to visit." She promises quietly.

“And if you ever wanted to come forward, we would be glad to have you.” You promise her just as earnestly.

"Perhaps one day." She hums. "Although I believe that William is a bit...stuck in his ways." She offers with a small smile.

“We have an excellent staff.” A wry smile on your lips twists her way. “He would be treated the way he is accustomed. I promise.” By the very same people who currently care for him anytime they visit your grandparents, but you can’t say so here.

The glass of punch in Lina's hand is quickly drained and she fans herself. "I must excuse myself." She hums. "Unless you also need to use the facilities?"

“I’ll follow you.” You drink the petite glass of lemonade easily and set it on the tray of a waiter passing by before turning to Max. “We’ll be right back, love.”

"Of course, my love." He smiles at you and nods, watching as you and Lina Astor walk off.

Around two corners, it is not the busy, central bathroom that Mrs. Astor leads you toward but rather a smaller and more concealed one that she seemingly has special privilege to use. The attendant inside even offers her a polite smile but departs after you both step in the door.

"Now, you seemingly have a glow about you that wasn't there before." Lina eyes you with a knowing smirk before she moves over towards the mirror to check her hair.

"I have no idea what you mean." Is a complete but polite lie, and you have to stifle a smile as you peak into the mirror beside her. Not that you would know how to fix your hair even if you tried. Renee had put more pins in it than should ever even exist together on earth.

Even though it's thoroughly unladylike and she would never do such a thing in public, Lina snorts and rolls her eyes. "You are aware I have five children, correct?" She hums. "I know when someone has been naughty."

"We're married!" You defend, even though that isn't technically true, but the fact that you've just been called out by Lina Astor for getting it on practically makes you double over laughing. "Surely the Gilded Age isn't so prim that they look down on that sort of thing?"

"Again, I have five children." She teases and winks at you in the mirror. "All we have for entertainment is fucking. Especially in the winter."

This time you can't swallow it, snorting in amusement and shaking your head at her. "It was the first time," you admit a little sheepishly. "So I'm still a little...giggly, I guess?"

"Obviously the boy was good to you," She eyes you carefully and approves of the starry glaze to your eyes. Since she was a child of the sixties, she was a little more liberal in her views of sex and love and had been fortunate enough to teach William what she likes. Her own children were carefully guided but it was freeing to talk about this with another modern woman. "It's a good thing. I would hate to slap his shins with my walking stick."

"There's no need for that." Although the mental image is fairly amusing. "I'm very lucky to have him for my soulmate." Typically you would adjust your makeup. Or the way your shirt is hanging on your body. But since you've been pinned within an inch of your life and aren't wearing any makeup at all, all you can do is stand there and feel the intense heat in your cheeks while you talk to Lina. "He's very— he takes good care of me. In every way."

"Good." She offers you a small smile. "I feel that a good relationship, a good marriage is a partnership." She huffs slightly. "Although in this time, some men might not appreciate that, but a woman's part of her husband's life either adds value or causes stress." She smirks. "It is up to his attitude on what that might be."

"Thankfully, Max's misogyny is all show at this point in his life. He's spent enough time in board rooms and business meetings that he can blend in, but at home it's a partnership." Since you're standing in front of the mirror anyway, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress and make sure you're in one piece before turning away. "I'm glad that your soulmate seems to have been enlightened a little on the way things can be."

Lina chuckles and tilts her head. "History books do not show it, but honestly? Women control much more than the men would have believed. If a wife is unhappy, he will receive cold tea, sour brandy, his cigars 'disappear'." She lifts a brow at you and smirks. "Itching powder in his long johns."

"Happy wife, happy life," you laugh, absolutely loving what you're hearing from her. "And I hope you taught all of this to your girls, too?"

"Absolutely." She tuts and shoots you a grin. "And my daughters-in-law."

"Brilliant." You can't help thinking that every one of these encounters is going to make a hilarious set of stories to tell Allison when you finally get back, and you are just constantly filing away little bits of information as you go. "Absolutely brilliant."

She grins before she nods towards the stall. "If you'll excuse me, I have to wrestle with my petticoats to go to the bathroom before intermission is over."

"I wish you all the luck in the world." It gets a laugh from both of you, and you nod to the door. "Enjoy the second half of the show, Lina. I'm going to go track down our soulmates."

"Before you go." Lina stops at the stall door and looks back at you. "The book is coming along fabulously. It will be ready on time."

"You're very kind to make the copy." You soften a little at the reminder of it, feeling the ache of gratitude in your chest. "I can't imagine it's the sort of thing that is easy to share with just anyone. I promise it will be in good hands."

"I have no doubt." She hums. "My daughters are not terribly interested in magic right now, so it will be a relief to know that the knowledge might be passed down if none change their minds."

"I promise." Instinctively, you make at 'x' over your heart with your finger and are grateful that the gesture can be shared with someone who doesn't think you're incredibly odd or childish for doing it. You say your good night here, figuring that you won't be have the time to say anything appropriate later on when the opera gets out and you're swept away to dinner, and go back out to the lobby to find Max before intermission is over.

“Hey Dolly.” It’s not as if he were staked out by the bathrooms, but Max has been looking out for you. “Refreshed?”

"Refreshed, and a bit teased." You take his arm when he offers it and start back toward your seats. "Mrs. Astor noticed how particularly happy we are tonight."

“Our wedded blissful status was noticed?” Max preens smugly and he waggles his eye brows. “Or are you just walking funny?”

"Even if I was, you wouldn't be able to tell under all these petticoats." The slight smirk on your face is a beaming smile all over again and you lean into his side as you walk. "Yes, our bliss was noted. Which means I'm sure it was by other people too. But I don't give a damn. If anything, they should be very jealous of me." For last night, and also for this morning. Max had decided to wake you up before the rest of the house began their day, and he did it with his head — and then his cock — between your legs.

“We could always fit a quicky in during intermission.” He suggests, cock twitching in his trousers.

"Intermission's almost over." And while he may be quick, you're enjoying taking your time with him.

He pouts, but he knows that the scandal would be more attention that you would want to bring down on yourselves. “Next time.” He promises and offers his arm.

"Next time." There is no doubt in your mind that there will be a next time, and that gives you a sense of anticipation that you can't deny loving. "Of course, I'm not saying that when we get home tonight, that there won't be time then..."

“No?” He arches a brow. “What are we doing when we get home?”

The box attendant is in sight and there are people around you, but you know his hearing is far better than anyone else’s in this opera house tonight so you whisper with a barely contained smirk. “It’s a very good night for a ride. Don’t you think?”

He grunts and his brow goes up even higher. “You mean-“ he waggles his brows and leans in. “I’m your horsey?”

It probably shouldn’t, but the endearing silliness of Max’s choice of phrasing makes you almost snort when you laugh, and you squeeze his arm as the attendant opens the door for you to return to the box just as the bell rings to tell patrons to return to their seats. “Yes, love,” you snicker and shake your head in amusement. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Oh goody.” The playfulness is simple to keep the gorgeous smile on your face, but if he had his way, he would be ordering the carriage be brought around.

“It’s our reward for a very productive evening in society,” you decide, although that’s just the excuse. In reality, now that you’ve had a taste of Max? You’re addicted.

Max chuckles and helps you into your seat. Annie and Emmanuel are positively beaming and Max doesn’t miss the way both of them are a bit mussed. “Ready for the second act?”

“Terribly excited for it.” Annie hums, trying and failing to look as innocent as possible.

His eyes slide over to you and he makes a face. Not believing your mother for a second.

The face you make back very distinctly reminds him that’s my mother! but it’s none of your business. You face forward as the lights come down again and make the executive personal decision not to say a goddamn thing. At least, not right now.

Max smirks and reaches over, lacing his fingers through yours. "Remember..." He coos in your ear. "Technically her daughter is getting railed right under her nose as well." He teases playfully.

You can’t help it — cracking a guilty but extremely pleased grin and letting out a small laugh as the lights come back down. He’s right, of course, even if Annie doesn’t know what you really are to her. “Behave yourself,” you chastise, barely even meaning it, and lean over to kiss him.

"Naaaaaah." He kisses you happily and winks. "What fun would that be?" There's a sense of freedom in being able to tease you, to see you light up when his corniness comes out and it makes Max adore you even more. "Now watch your opera." He chides as the lantern lights are lowered again, as if he wasn't the distraction all along.

******

It quickly becomes apparent, as soon as just a few minutes into dinner, that you have made friends with the loving-if-slightly-snobby branch of the Vanderbilt family. Any and all attempts at conversation with Mrs. Willie K. Vanderbilt — gods forbid anyone call her Alva — is met with one upmanship and a quality of narcissism that you have rarely encountered in real life. There are a lot of truly terrible people who would have loved Alva Vanderbilt, and that thought makes you shudder. Instead, you come away from dinner and dancing in that house very glad to be unlaced and untied from all of your layers and flop down on the bed in your dressing gown to wait for Max to come upstairs. Cornelius had sidelined him about something or other when you back to the house and you can’t wait to have him back in your arms.

“Is there anything else you wish tonight, Mrs. Phillips?” Renee asks, just inside the doorway so she doesn’t intrude on your relaxation. “Tea, perhaps?”

“Nothing tonight, Renee. Thank you.” As warm and gossipy and giggly as you got to be with 21st century Renee, you’re worried about saying too much in front of her in this time. In this place. So you just try to be as polite and appreciative as humanly possible every day. “I think Mr. Phillips and I are going to take a long walk in the park tomorrow, and I know that Annie is planning on doing a little shopping, so you should have some time to yourself tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Phillips.” Even if she doesn’t smile, the nod is polite and her expression has softened. “If there is nothing else, I will wish you a good evening.”

“Good night, Renee.” In lieu of being able to embrace your friend, you offer her a heartfelt smile and climb into bed, armed with a book from the library to read until Max appears.

After a nightcap that Max did not enjoy, and some stimulating business talk that did, he is finally climbing the stairs to the wing where you are waiting for him. Taking his time and hating it because of the human staff in the Vanderbilt household, he is eager to get behind closed doors with you.

Max slips in the door and grins as he shuts it behind him, flicking the lock behind him. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” Your book goes down in your lap immediately and you can’t help but beam a smile at him. “What did Cornelius have to say?”

Max smirks, shrugging out of his jacket and laying it over the back of the chair in the sitting area. "Wanted to bend my ear about a project he was considering."

“Oh?” You know he loves the fact that these powerful men are taking his opinion seriously, and you smile a little brighter. “What project was that?”

"There's a tract of land that is for sale that he was considering." He shrugs slightly. "Wanted to know if I was familiar with North Carolina."

“So more than one Vanderbilt was looking ably building down there? Interesting.” Shifting over in bed makes extra room for him. But it’s not that he’ll need it. The second he gets in beside you, you’ll be cuddled up anyway.

"Maybe." Max leans a hip on the writing desk and shrugs. "Or the land sits unused until that estate is built."

"Maybe." It’s not as if either of you is a Vanderbilt historian. It could be anything. "History will tell. But for now...are you coming to bed?"

"Absolutely." Max smirks and within seconds, he's standing bare in front of the bed, looking down at you.

“Show off.” It’s endearing, though, and you grab his hand to pull him into bed with you.

He snickers and winks as he presses close, ducking his head and pressing his lips to yours.

For the first time, you pull back from Max’s kiss abruptly and frown, feeling anxiety rise in your throat. “Did you—um—is that—” It’s okay. Breathe. Just breathe. It’s not the end of the world. Take deep, long breaths. “Did you…have a drink? Before you came up?”

Max's brows furrow for a second, wondering why you are pulling back but then he winces. Cornelius wouldn't take no for an answer, so he had quickly tippled back a disgusting drink. "I- uh, he- he wanted a nightcap." Max rushes to explain. "I refused but he insisted and it would have been- uh, rude to refuse."

“Oh…um…okay.” Despite you saying it, and nodding profusely, there is a spark in your fingertips and anxiety rolling down your spine. “Would you…” About to ask him if he minds brushing his teeth, a bubble of fear opens in your throat and the words get swallowed. “N-Never mind. Never mind.”

Max frowns, not liking the way your suddenly turned stiff and hesitant. “Dol-” he stops talking and he closes his mouth. Realizing that you can smell the alcohol. “Shit.”

“I know you’re not drunk.” But that doesn’t stop the fear from settling deep into your bones where it lived for so long.

"I should have refused." He shakes his head and pulls way, slipping out of the bed and backing away from it. "I'll go brush my teeth and...." He doesn't know what he can do to reassure you, but it feels like he's failed you. Without another word, he disappears.

Oddly, the feeling of panic in your body is less actual fear of him, and more fear of the feeling. You know in your mind and heart that Max would never hurt you. Fuck — you let him drink from you last night. But the gut reaction of terror behind smelling alcohol in his breath makes you afraid that you’ll always be afraid, and that’s the reason that you’re turned over on your pillow shaking subtly and trying not to sob as he goes into the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Max is cursing himself for not thinking about brushing his teeth earlier. He knows you don't like alcohol and why but he hadn't even thought of it. Alcohol has zero effect on him and honestly it had tasted horrible. "So fucking stupid." He hisses at himself.

“I’m sorry.” As soon as he walks back into the room you’re apologizing, and it seems like you’ve reverted back to simply apologizing for existing, but the truth is more complicated. The sparks from your fingers had started arcing while he was in the bathroom, and now they’ve created a sort of woven magic protective blanket around you that you did not conjure on purpose nor do you know how to get rid of. “I don’t know what’s happening.” The fear is for this now, as fear starts to be the most dominant emotion in your mind all over again.

Max frowns and his eyes widen as he starts to take a step towards you it's like an invisible barrier has been set up between you. "You don't need to be sorry." He shake his head, lifting a hand to try to push against the barrier. "It's my fault sweetheart. Mine. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

“I didn’t do this,” you rush to promise him, as bound on your side of the barrier as he is on his. As confused and shocked by its appearance as he surely is. “I don’t know how to do this.”

"It's okay, we- we'll figure this out." He promises, holding up his hands and backing away from the barrier. "Are you- do you think it's because of me?"

“I think it’s—it’s like the woods—” Thinking back to the fear you’d felt in the woods, it was like your magic had been called up out of necessity. Things had been unlocking in your mind for weeks now but you didn’t fully understand any of it. How could you, when it had been kept away from you for so long? “Like…my magic is trying to protect me?”

"From me..." Max whispers, looking devastated at that prospect. "I- I'm going to go get Annie." He decides and turns around to throw a dressing gown and pants on to rush from the room so he doesn't shock your mother.

******

Knocking on a door is a simple thing. Simple enough, anyway. But Annie Brown — sitting quietly in bed with a book and a cup of tea — is immediately convinced that someone has brought a battering ram to the second floor of the Vanderbilt’s home. She pushes everything aside and wraps herself in her robe before pulling the door open in concern. “Max?” Her eyes are wide, having expected that racket to be nothing less than the news that the house was on fire. “What is it? You look…rather upset. Is everything alright?”

"It- it's Dolly." He shakes his head and rushes to explain. "Her magic. It's- it- there's a barrier." He doesn't know what the hell she can do, but hopefully she can help you break the spell. "Because of me."

“Can’t she dispel it?” Even as she asks the question, Annie is already shifting back into her room to put in her slippers and follow Max out into the hallway. “What do you mean it’s because of you? What happened?”

"I- Dolly doesn't like drinking." He huffs, embarrassed by this. "Her- it's not a pleasant memory for her and Mr. Vanderbilt wanted a nightcap." He explains. "She- when she smelled the drink on me, she was upset." The two of them hurry towards the rooms he was sharing with you. "When I came out of the bathroom there was a barrier between us. She said she didn't do it."

"She doesn't have much experience with her magic." Annie knows that. You haven't talked about magic very much together, but you've said just enough to her for her to know that. "I will do anything that I can." She rushes upstairs with Max and follows him to your door, not knowing which one to find you behind.

"Dolly....I- I brought Annie." Max pushes the door opened and lets your mother, another witch, go inside ahead of him. Hoping that it would be for naught and you would be sitting there embarrassed and with no barrier around you. Obviously not the case since you still have a shimmery essence around you. "Oh fuck, it's still there." He hisses.

“Mo—Annie!” With your blood pulsing in your ears and panic in your throat, you barely manage to stop yourself from calling her Mom, but the tears running down your face don’t care what you call her so long as she helps. “What’s happening?” You beg, as though she could know the answer as soon as she’s walked in the door. “It’s a protection spell.” Clearly you had already figured that out, but Annie feels the need to assure you since you seem terrified. “And Max says you didn’t do this on purpose?” “No.” You shake your head adamantly and try to remember to breathe. “Ever since I arrived in—in—in Newport…my magic has been haywire.”

Biting his lip in worry, Max wishes he could go back in time and fix his mistake. He closes his eyes and sighs, wondering if you have now subconsciously linked him with your ex, the same danger. "I- I'll - I should go."

“No!” The last thing you want is for him to leave. He hasn’t hurt you and he wouldn’t hurt you, and you’re going to prove that to yourself — to your magic — somehow. “Stay, love. Please stay?”

He swallows, even though he doesn't really have to and looks around. "I - I don't know if I should." He admits quietly. "This happened because of me."

“If this happened because of you, my dear friend, then it might also undo because of you.” With the door carefully closed and locked behind her, Annie moves to the side of the bed to be as close to you as she can be while the magical barrier has you firmly protected. “Will one of you please explain to me what happened? In detail?”

Max looks over at you and senses the hesitation in your eyes. The fear of blurting out too much. "Dolly's ex used to abuse her when he drank." He admits quietly. "She doesn't like alcohol. He- he attacked her once and she managed to save herself with her magic." He rubs his hands on his pants. "When she smelled the drink on me...I guess she panicked and thought that I was like him. Or maybe her magic took over to protect her from me."

"Ex?" Annie questions the term, wanting to make sure that she understands completely. "A lover. Before—before I found Max." Gods if she only knew how much more uncomfortable this conversation is for you. You just can't afford to dwell on that right now, as you just remind yourself to breathe through the fear. "I don't think Max would ever hurt me, it's like...like my magic just jumped out of me on instinct." "Oh my..." Annie crosses her arms, looking between you and Max with concern and care written across her features. "It seems...that is, it sounds...as though you have been spellbound, my dear."

“What does that mean?” Max frowns, relieved that Annie knows what is happening but not sure it’s a good thing.

"It means that at some point in your wife's life," Annie purses her lips together, squeezing her arms around her own waist in concern. "Another witch did not trust her to wield her magic carefully. A powerful witch." Whimpering in discomfort under your magical blanket, you could scream for the irony of the thing. "My parents." The irony is terrible, but more than that, you're distinctly afraid that this might give you away. After all, some spells can only be undone by those who have cast them.

“And what do we do? What happened? How do I help my wife?” He demands.

"There are three choices," Annie tells you both, chewing on her bottom lip as she inspects the nearly invisible edges of your barrier with interest. "The simplest would be to have the witch who cast the spell unravel it. Without that option, either Dolly must break through the spell with her own force, or a witch more powerful than the original caster must break it for us."

Max knows that all of those things are impossible. He cannot give up your true relationship to your mother, and he knows you don’t trust yourself enough to break it yourself. You’re still so unused to magic. And your grandmother had already admitted through her letters that your mother was a more powerful witch than her. There was possibly another option. “What if the threat was no longer around?” He asks Annie quietly.

She sighs, understanding, but shakes her head. "You left the room and the barrier remained. I do not think this is about you as much as you fear it is."

“That’s- it’s not what I meant.” His eyes are haunted, heavy with emoting and he refuses to look over at you. “I left but I was still here.” He rationalizes. “Would she- would it work if I- I- um, wasn’t?”

"Don't you dare." There is gravel in your voice. A growl that is as unfamiliar to you as it is to them, but at least you know where it comes from. From the very bottom of your soul, where you know you wouldn't survive this world without him. You aren't as strong as your mother. Not by a longshot. Life without your soulmate is impossible now that you've found him. "You're staying right here and we'll find another way." It's like a magical weighted blanket, holding you to the bed, and all you can manage to do is shake your head at him. "Promise me. Promise me you won't do that."

Max frowns and he huffs seriously. “What if it’s the only way?” He demands quietly. “I- it’s worth it to me.” He admits. “For you.”

"It's not the only way." You would rather give up every ounce of truth to your mother than lose him. Break your promise to your grandfather and risk unknown complications. You would rather gamble with the world than lose Max. "A—Annie can dispel it." "I can?" She wheels around, looking at you as though you have just nominated her for queendom — disbelief and a touch of pride in her voice. As though she were touched that you would think so well of her. "Yes." A shaky breath comes with your nod, because you aren't technically lying but it feels that way. "The daughter of a powerful witch and a vampire? You must be able to."

“I don’t know if I am able to.” She worries, frowning as she looks between an equally devastated husband and wife. “But I will try.” She turns her head and pins Max with a stare. “Do not do anything foolish.” She cautions. “If you upset Dolly, it could provoke her magic even more.”

“Please help.” There is something about asking your own mother for help when you’re scared that makes your chest tighten, but stead of more fear it’s nearly nostalgia. Like being a little girl all over again. Except as a little girl you had had no idea that your own parents had spellbound you.

Annie frowns and nods, “of course I will help you.” She rushes to assure you “However I can.”

“Tell us what to do.” It’s entirely possible she doesn’t know, but you has to believe that she has some kind of idea. Otherwise the ace in your sleeve is calling Lina Astor to the house in the middle of the night.

“Think about touching Max.” Annie bites her lip and pushes the sleeves of her nightgown back after removing her robe. Moving towards the barrier. “Visualize it in your head.”

That is the easiest thought to have in the world, and you reach out to him under the shimmering barrier instinctively. “Um…right…” She said visualize, and you obediently close your ideas and imagine being in his arms instead.

Annie swallows harshly and turns to Max. “Give me a drop of your blood.” She demands, holding out her palm flat.

You watch with worried eyes as Max complies immediately, letting his fangs out to puncture the skin on his fingertip so a single, full bead of dark red blood wells up above his skin.

Annie thinks back to every lesson her mother has taught her, aware that this is probably the most important magic that she has ever done. “Thank you Max.” She whispers, flashing him a reassuring smile as she turns back to the barrier. Closing her eyes, she starts the incantation, hoping that she is strong enough to undo the spell with Max’s blood as an aid.

The barrier starts to vibrate around you as Annie murmurs her incantation low and steady. You can't even hear the words from a few feet away, but you can feel the affect that they're having. The barrier bends around you, the magic that was shimmering now starting to blink abruptly and then flash like bursting lightbulbs.

There's nothing more that Max wishes for on this earth than for this to work. He bites his lip, not bothering to heal his wound on his hand. Watching with baited breath, even though he doesn't breathe as the barrier continues to twist around you.

Words like reverse and shine and will and power spill from your mother's lips as the temperature in the room drops. An imperceptible chill floods the space. Not a breeze or a draft, but a chill that settles into bones and sets hooks into hearts. The cold takes hold even in Max, who has been technically icy to the touch for years. The colder you get the more you concentrate on that feeling of touching Max's cool skin with your own warm hands. The way his kisses warm against your lips. The way it made moving under him last night feel even more powerful, friction and heat and the rush of pleasure in both of your bodies making him feel warm for the first time since he was turned.

"Dolly." He murmurs quietly, stepping forward and wishing that he can just pull you out. "Please." he closes his eyes. " I need you." He's helpless and he hates that. Strong, fast, and resilient, but there is nothing he can right now but watch your mother try to undo the spell that binds you. That has you wrapped up and pulling away from him.

"Talk to her, Max." Annie gets a rush of energy back at her when he does, as though your magic responds to his voice instinctively. "About anything. Anything happy."

"I want to waltz with you again." Max tells you honestly. "I want to waltz with you every day. I missed today. I should have swept you up into my arms when you were folded into that beautiful dress you were wearing tonight."

“Tonight wasn’t your fault.” There had been so many other guests at dinner that your dances had been taken up by the other gentlemen, and Alice had sung Max’s praises as a dancer so that the ladies had very nearly stood in line for him. It was a pleasure to watch him be so sought after. To see the way his eyes found you on the dance floor regardless of his partner and know that you would be the one sharing a bed with him tonight. He thrives on feeling wanted and valued, and you never would have taken that from him.

“Still….” Max shrugs. “I only want to dance with you, Queenie.”

“I love you, too.” You shift forward without realizing it, instinctively wanting to be closer to him, and gasp softly when you realize the barrier has moved the tiniest bit. “Oh gods��I think it’s actually working!”

He can only hope. Max steps a fraction of an inch closer to you and continues on. "I want to travel with you. See the world. Experience everything with you." He takes comfort in the fact that Annie is aware of vampires, is the daughter of one, so he doesn't have to censor himself. "Watch the world change with you."

“When you see the barrier start to come apart,” Annie pants with effort but concentrates, pausing her incantation to give you instruction. “Try to pull at it. Like you’re picking apart embroidery. Max, keep talking to her.”

“Our lives are going to be perfect.” Max tells you desperately. “If we can have children, I’ll give you as many as you want. Gorgeous little girls, who look like you and handsome little boys who have your sweetness.”

As Annie chants and Max makes endless promises, the barrier binding you to the bed loosens slightly in halting amounts. It waves like oceans waves and turns a vibrant, flashing purple. It squeezes you tight, as if trying to retain control, but you keep your eyes closed and concentrate on imagining all of the things that Max is promising. Your life together. Your happiness. If you can let go of everything else, maybe you can grab at the happiness. “Good!” Annie cries, seeing you move under the waves of magic. “Open your eyes, Dolly. You have to take it apart yourself.” The magic has bent to your mother’s will — or what you have to assume was her will — and looks now like pearlescent threads of satin ribbon fraying in every direction across your body. It is not the neat, directed weaving you expected but knotted and gnarled tangles of wispy white, and you immediately grab at the nearest knot to find it astonishingly solid in your hands as you furiously work it open to release the threads.

Max steps forward. “You can do it, sweetheart. I know you can. Please do it.” He begs quietly.

The only other time in your life that you have broken through the barrier of your magic was for Max. To protect him. And now you understand why your attempt at a protection barrier didn’t work at all — because you’ve been surrounded by one for most of your life. Fear is what made you leap into action last time. Fear that something would happen to take Max away from you. Even if you knew in the most logical parts of your mind that a bullet could not kill him — you feared it. And fearing that one drink could turn Max into the same monster Derek was, while illogical, is the definition of a knee jerk reaction. Every single thread you grasp is a reminder to yourself that it won’t happen. That alcohol has no effect on Max. That the dangers of the pst will never repeat themselves. Every knot you grasp, tugging at the strands of your gnarled fears, is a step toward being stronger. For Max.

“Come to me baby.” He begs, holding out his arms to you as you attempt to break through the barrier. “I choose you, I’ll always choose you over everything.”

“I—I’ll always choose you, too.” Your fingers dig into the knot of magical threads at the heart of the barrier, feeling the way the power — your power, untouched and unwielded — bends and droops at your words. The threads don’t merely break, they seep into your skin like sun rays and light you from the inside. Annie and Max watch in awe as every shred of magic untangles itself after that large knot, absorbing into your mind and body so thoroughly that you begin to glow.

“Beautiful.” Max whispers, completely enthralled by how powerful you are. A wind that doesn’t come from anywhere ruffles your nightgown and blows around you. A byproduct of the magic being harnessed and absorbed by you.

“Gods above…” Annie presses one hand over her heart, watching in awe as you take the last threads of your binding apart. You look like an angel, and she cannot tell why but her heart aches over the image of it. “Max!” Throwing yourself forward is easy now, as though you could simply fly wherever you needed to go without any effort, and you launch yourself toward your soulmate with one hand outstretched to bring your mother close as well.

Max cradles you, wrapping up in the security of his arms with palpable relief. He had honestly worried that it wouldn't work, that he would be separated from you. Now the warmth of your body is surrounding him and all he can feel is like you've come home.

Characterizing it as crying would be an understatement. What you are doing is weeping into Max’s shoulder as you cling to both him and your young mother in sheer relief. It feels, for the first time since you were a child, like you are whole again, with a in one of magic running in your veins alongside your blood. There is no other way to explain it — you feel whole again. For her part, Annie hugs you tightly, tears of effort and - yes - more relief in her own eyes. She cannot explain why she feels so close to you, but now it feels even more important that the two of you had met. “We should discuss this with my mother when we return home,” she murmurs, knowing that her mother is a far more power witch than she is at this time. “I wish I knew other witches nearby to consult. But you must learn to control your powers. They will act out, now that they are free.”

Max frowns, concerned. “She will.” He promises Annie. “She will, even if I have to learn magic myself.”

“Lina.” You remind him, not wanting Max to think that he has to take the entire world into his shoulders. “We should go and see Lina tomorrow. She might be able to help.”

Annie frowns slightly and pulls back. "Lina Astor?" She asks curiously. "Oh- I had completely forgotten." She admits, huffing slightly. "She is a very accomplished witch. And when we go home, mother will be a boon to you."

“Thank you.” Putting aside completely the fact that it was most likely Annie herself who spellbound you as a child, you high her tightly in thanks now. Without her here, who knows if you ever would have figured out what had happened or been able to break the enchantment at all. It might have been a lost cause without her incantation.

“You are most welcomed.” She hum, pulling back and biting her lip. “For now…perhaps you should have your soulmate hypnotize you.” She suggest. “To relax you.”

“I’ve…we’ve never…” you glance at Max curiously. “Does that work?”

Max winces, but nods. “The powers I have…I could make you do anything.”

“Then maybe a relaxing night’s sleep is the thing after all.” Hugging Annie tightly once more, you sit back and realize how truly exhausted you feel in the moment and huff a laugh at yourself. “Though I may not need you to do anything more than tuck me in, love.”

"If she's not needing it, I would rather not hypnotize her." Max admits. "It takes away her free will and I don't want to do that."

“Your love is very clear.” Annie nods in understanding, though her own mind is racing and she very much doubts her sleep with be restful. But her exhaustion is different from yours.

"Thank you for your help." Max takes her hands and kisses the back of them profusely. "Thank you." He repeats. "I'll escort you back to your room as soon as I get Dolly settled." He promises.

“I know my way.” She assures him, not wanting you to have to be left alone even for a few minutes. Not after what you’ve just undergone. “I’m glad you’re well, Dolly. That we could figure out what was wrong.”

Max sends her a grateful look and closes the door behind her after she slips out. He hadn't want to leave you, couldn't stand the thought, and now he doesn't have to. "Dolly..." He murmurs quietly, turning back and looking at you with nothing but pure relief.

“I’m sorry.” The words are out of your mouth immediately, and you practically throw yourself at him again to hug the proverbial breath out of him. “I know you wouldn’t have hurt me. And I know I’ve said that you could have a drink if you wanted. It just took me off guard and I panicked.”

"No." He shakes his head and holds you tight. "You have nothing to be sorry for." His hand moves up and down your back. "Not one goddamn thing. This is on me." He tells you. "My mistake that you nearly paid for."

“It’s done now.” That’s the important part, after all. That it’s over and that you’re both safe, and you can have your arms around him now. “Are…are you okay? I know I scared you, but…I scared me, too.”

"I think my heart stopped." Max jokes dryly.

“Har Har.” You intone, rolling your eyes at him to continue diffusing the tension left in the room. “Thank the gods Mom was here.”

"Yeah...thank God." He murmurs quietly, deciding to let the fact that your mother was the one who most likely put the spell on you lie. "Let's get you to bed, Queenie, you look like you are about to pass out."

“I’m exhausted.” In fact you’re nodding without evening meaning to, and halfway to sitting in the mattress already.

"You should be." Max whispers as he quickly lays you down and climbs into the bed beside you and pulls you close. "You did something amazing. Something I would never believe if I didn't see it for myself."

“I don’t even believe it.” You mumble, letting Max pull you in close and wrap you up tight in the safety of his arms. “I thought spellbinding was a myth. A magical boogeyman than witches threaten their kids with. I didn’t know it was real.”

"Surprise." He huffs sarcastically, shaking his head and slowly starting to rub your back.

"Will you rest tonight?" The last thing you want is for him to sit up worrying, but you know you're on the verge of crashing and won't be able to stop him one way or another. What matters to you more than anything is that he tries to rest.

"I'll try, sweetheart." He promises, unable to guarantee anything right now. Nothing expect he needs to hold you. "You just sleep." He whispers. "I'll be right here, watching over you and making sure nothing happens to you."

"I love you." And having that love for one of the things that goes bump in the night means you sleep a little more deeply in his arms. In the waking hours, you'll have to seek out more help in harnessing your magic. Tonight? Max's arms are all you need.

______

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

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

My Masterlist!

[miscretis]

Vampire!Ronin x Vampire Hunter!Reader(g.n) [PART 1]

WRITER'S NOTE

I've decided to start this AU due to my love of vampires. This AU is also a bit based on the misunderstood vocaloid song, Romeo and Cinderella! This is my first ever serious fanfiction project and I hope you guys will enjoy!

TW:

- Blood

- Murder

- Loss of loved ones

- Coarse language

- Vampires blah blah blah!

Wails of siren sounded outside of the alleyway. Thick red splattered and stained all over the ground, the bodies stinking up the whole place.

Huff…puff…

Aspirated gasps were let out from your system, a symbol of desperation. You ran until you were stopped by caution tape and police. Your eyes widen and your pupils shrunk. Your heart quickened as if you were going to explode. What laid before you were familiar bodies. Bodies of people who used to cherish you, people who were always by your side.

You would expect one or two bodies being slaughtered in the notorious alley; Purgatory, where the vampire, Devil’s Butcher, gets his hands dirty. However, the last of your remaining family were the last thing you expected to be lying before you, petrified in time.

“No…nononononono! This…this can't be!”

You tried scrambling past the caution tape however strong arms held you back.

“Sorry but you can't pass the caution tape!”

“Those are my parents!” You screamed, dropping to your knees while you begged for this to be a dream.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, everything felt surreal. Like a hellscape.

————————————❣️————————————

“Breaking news: On 19th July 2023, two bodies were found dead at Purgatory alleyway. Vampires are going rampant nowadays, so please do not stay out late. This is Kelly Smith, signing out.”

You laid on your couch, still trying to process your trauma. Your parents, gone in cold blood. You were nothing more than a hollow vessel, too tired to even shed tears any longer. They were now no more than cherished memories, reminiscent of your life the past 2 decades.

However, you cannot be depressed for long…

Vampires…those beings who relish in others suffering. They're evil beings.

You quickly rose from the couch, wiping your face with your hands. Vampires, vampires, vampires. Why do they have to take away your only loved ones? Your fists balled up, you clenched your teeth.

Those vermin, I must do something about them…!

However, you were just a normal human being. What even can you do against blood sucking superbeings anyways? You couldn't win against them…

The next day, you decided to head down from your apartment to the park near your childhood home, where you spent most of your past time as a kid with your parents. While walking down the street, you walked past a church. There was an advertisement that read…

Recruiting vampire hunters!

Part time:

$1800 per month

Full time:

$4000 per month

Please contact Raymond Ng on ————————— for more details!

The advertisement piqued your interest. No, not because of the pay. It was because of the great good. Just imagine having your loved ones taken away by one of those vermin. You wouldn't want that happening to other people too, would you?

So, when you got back home after the visit. You dropped on your bed and started to text the number.

You: Good evening, I am ——————. I am texting you because I wanted to apply for the position of part time Vampire Hunter for $1800 per month.

Raymond: Okay, please show me your resume.

You: https://bit.ly.com/Users-full-name

Raymond: Thank you. We’ll contact you back if you're eligible for an interview.

You put down your phone and turned your body to your right, letting out a sigh.

Mom, Dad. I'll avenge your deaths and help prevent the deaths of many others.

————————————❣️————————————

The next week, the church emailed you. They have informed you that you'll be called in for an interview. Upon hearing this news, happiness filled up your heart, replacing the feeling of depression for a quick minute.

That's not something worth being excited for…yet. I still need to pass the interview then it'll be worth celebrating.

Another week passed by and you sat for the interview…

“ Y/N, please take a seat,” said the interviewer

“ Thanks.” You complied with their orders.

”First question, why did you apply for this position?”

“I wanted to create a better world, the greater good for us, humans. The world has been terrorised by vermin, the vampires. It has been turned upside down, into a hellscape for us humans to live in.”

The interviewer simply nodded his head in response, “ Ok, next question, describe yourself in two ways.”

Your eyes widened a little, your mouth slightly agape, cold sweat started to slowly drip from your forehead.

“Well…uhm…”

Fuckfuckfuck, don’t you dare fuck this up…I swear if I fuck this up I’m going to jump.

“I’m very resilient and I give back to the community. When faced with challenges, I’ll take a step back and think. From there I’ll apply problem solving strategies such as: identifying the problem, thinking of possible solutions, and execution. All based on the level of achievability and impact.” I took another deep breath, “ I also would usually participate in volunteering work as you could see in my resumé, I’ve volunteered for police work before. Other than that, I also led in clean and green work such as the beach clean up, and upcycling plastic bottles into plant pots to give out to the neighbourhood elderly.”

The interviewer smirked, and nodded his head, “last question, are you faint hearted?”

What kind of question is that?

“Uhm…no.”

“Great! We'll call you back when you're selected.”

————————————❣️————————————

When you got back home, you quickly emailed the church to thank them for their time. Afterwards, you received a strange link from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: https://discord.com/blahblahblahimgonnasuckyourblood

You were kind of giggling at the server name. Hotel Transylvania, isn't it? However this situation is far too suspicious. So, you blocked the number and cleared the chat content.

…

UNKNOWN: https://discord.com/blahblahblahimgonnasuckyourblood

Huh? I thought I blocked the number?

UNKNOWN: darling, Don't Keep The Devil Waiting. join the hellscape.

You blocked the number and cleared the chat content again.

UNKNOWN: https://discord.com/blahblahblahimgonnasuckyourblood

UNKNOWN: i Know where you Live, join or else.

At this point of time, the situation wasn't just suspicious but very frightening. You quickly clicked on the link and joined the server…

<goreboy> Welcome to the hellscape @/user

<hitmeuppp> Omg omg omg! A new fellow vampire!!!

<Angelic> welcome!

<felicite> Hello! It's so nice to meet you!

<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL> YAYY!!! A new vampire mate!!

…

A vampire server? Is this real? If so, it's a jackpot.

<goreboy> Please Do Check the rules at #rules and Choose your Roles at #roles

You clicked on the channel.

<goreboy> be a vampire. First rule of the Fight Club. tbh I don't Really Care lmfao. just don't be Racist or Transphobic and be nice to Everyone or else Angel will snipe you :\

<Angelic> it's not a threat it's a promise.

You went to check out the roles of the server. There were unique vampire roles up for choice..

Bot: what do you take pride in for being a vampire? Please react to get a role!

Blood! 🩸(5)

I dunno, fun? ‼️(2)

Superpowers! 💪(3)

Ego 😈 (2)

There's not really anything to be proud of 😔 (1)

What the fuck? Ego???? Fun??? Who the hell reacted to these

You checked the list of reactions, one user in particular caught your eye.

goreboy, the server owner. When I get into that job position, you're my first victim.

Bot: How do you prey on your victims?

Sharp objects 🔪 (3)

Guns and magazines 🔫(2)

Kidnapping 🥷 (1)

The good ol’ vampire style 😜 (7)

You went on to react to your favourite roles.

ding! A new notification from #main

You went to check on the main channel.

<goreboy> @/user why don't you Introduce Yourself in #introductions ? that would help us to Get to Know You better.

You went to introduce yourself in the introductions channel. Afterwards you decided to go on a server tour with the user <Angelic> to get to know the server layout better.

<Angelic> so this is #vampire-cave. This is where we post our gruesome murders.

<hitmeuppp> ooo! You're being exposed @/goreboy !

<goreboy> it's Yours Truly.

You laid back in bed. 7 vampires in the server and 1 human. Is this a possible road for vengeance? All you could know is that the “vampires” in the server could be edgy teenagers roleplaying. However you couldn't brush off your suspicions that they're actually vampires. Especially for the user, goreboy. He gives off really, really bad vibes. Dangerous too, telling from his reaction to the roles.

————————————❣️————————————

The next day, the church emailed you.

Wow, that's fast.

You checked your Gmail inbox and checked on the email.

Dear ————,

Congratulations on being selected for part time Vampire Hunter for $1800 per month! You'll start work by this Saturday.

Link to details: —————

PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL. IF YOU THINK THERE'S AN ERROR, PLEASE CONTACT RAYMOND NG ON raymondng01@gmail.com

You jumped out of your bed, your eyes almost popped out from your sockets. You started to jump around and screamed, “Yessss!!!! I got the position!”

“Hmm…”

“<User>....huh…”

TO BE CONTINUED

[cherrytreegrove]

The Mistress of Silk

Ik most people won’t read this because it’s Oc related but I hope you guys enjoy! I put a lot of time into it!

OC’s used: @nyx-of-night (Soleil) @raguiras (Allen) @galacticstationsblog (Via) @amatsuchan-eiliniel (Hopper) @heyhellohihowareyou (Mateo and Kaegen)

“Fucking damnit.” Ivy groaned, laying on her bed. She was exhausted, absolutely exhausted. For a week straight, she had been mission after mission, they ranged from info errands to high stakes kills. She could feel her sore hips burn.

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with Luka today at 6 and a gala to attend tomorrow at 2 that lasts until 10.” One of her Homunculi said, bringing a warm wet towel.

“Ughhh…”

“Don’t complain, Mistress. You sound like a child.”

*Blop*

“You okay baby?” Ruggie asked, holding Ivy’s hand. Both of them were walking into NRC.

“I’m fine, just tired as shit.” Ivy explained. At the moment their relationship was one of give and take, they both deeply loved each other but were too afraid to say it.

“You sure? Your uniform is pretty messy, I’m surprised Vil let you leave the dorm!” Ruggie chuckled, fixing her shirt, and tie. Ivy smiled as she watched him, his cute little face clearly focused on helping her.

“That hyena’s fucking lucky.”

“Yeah, he gets to fuck that hot ass”

“I’m sure when she gets bored of him, she’ll leave him!”

“Whores like her never stick to one guy!”

Ivy’s eyes didn’t move from Ruggie, even though she could hear the students whispering about her. She didn’t blame them, they had every right to call her that..

*Blop Blop*

Ivy walked around the Inferno Mafia Mansion, doing reports to Luka was never her favorite job but it had to be done. As she walked into his office, she instead found her mother.

“Mom. What are you doing here?” She asked. Her mother looked over at her, her cold blue eyes decorated with eyeshadow and eyeliner.

“I don’t know if you know this, Ivory, but I work here too.”

“Hardly as anything important.”

“I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you. We’re not different. I may be one of the prostitutes, but you’re the one with the official title of the Mafia’s Whore.”

“…”

“Oh, and Alexander wants the file on the Jabberwocky project.”

“Why didn’t he come tell me in person?”

“You know he couldn’t care less about you. You should be grateful I even speak to you. You’re nothing more than a burden to us.”

“...mom…”

Ivy tried to step closer to Madison, only to be met with a harsh slap to her face.

“And quit calling me that! I am NOT your mother and I never will be!” Madison yelled, “You’re nothing but a fucking whore! A worthless pig! A monster! You’re worth nothing!”

*Blop Blop Blop*

“That’s enough, Madison!” Luka called out. He stood by the door, Elle and Jewel standing beside him. “Your job was to bring me the reports on new projects. NOT to harass Ivy.”

Madison scoffed, storming out of the room, shoving past Elle. Elle blew a raspberry at her, while Jewel gave her the stink eye.

“Are you alright, Ivy?” Luka asked, walking over to her and cupping her cheek, gently rubbing the slap. Ivy nodded. “Girls, take Ivy back to her room.”

“But the project-”

“We can work on it later, your asshole of a mother ruined my mood.”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Elle and Jewel took Ivy back to her room, helping her get ready for bed.

“You okay, Ivy?” Jewel asked, brushing Ivy’s hair out of her face.

“Yes. I’m fine, seriously you guys.” Ivy sighed, handing Jewel the ribbon to tie her hair back.

“Can I ask something? What’s your relationship with Ruggie like?” Elle questioned, filing down her nails.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like why are you with him? You two play it off as dating but I know how you are with real relationships.” Elle pointed at Ivy with the nail file.

“Look, it's just a simple case of a sugar baby and sugar mommy. He’s using me for my money and I just want a cute pet. That’s that.“ Ivy said, playfully slapping the nail file away.

“Even so, I want that relationship to end. Now.”

The girls looked over and saw Luka entering the room, a not so happy look on his face.

“What? Luka, what are you talking about?” Ivy stood up, walking over to her older brother.

“I don’t want you playing around with some dirty beastmen. That boy should not be in your life one way or another.” He spoke in a harsh tone, Luka had never questioned Ivy’s actions before, even if he didn’t like her flirting around.

“Luka, it’s a mutual agreement! I don’t see why you should care, it’s not like we’re actually dating!”

“But you want that! You want to date him and that’s why I don't want you engaging with him!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes I do, Ivy! You may not realize it but you are in love with that boy and you’re using this as an excuse to be around him! It’s not healthy for either of you! It has to stop now!”

“NO! This is the only way!”

“Ivy! You’re only going to hurt yourself! He doesn’t love you!”

“I KNOW! SHUT UP!” Ivy snapped, her fists clenching, nails digging into her palms, “I KNOW I CAN’T HAVE HIM!! BUT THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN EVER BE CLOSE TO HIM!”

Everyone went quiet, while Jewel and Elle had sad, empathetic looks on their faces, Luka’s was a mix of empathy and an empty gaze. At the silence, Ivy started to storm out of the room.

“Where are you going?!” Luka yelled out.

“I’m staying at NRC! Where I won’t be hassled!” She yelled back, slamming her room door.

*Blop, Blop, Blop*

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Luka released the breath he had been holding in, slumping into a chair.

“Luka…don’t you think you could’ve been easier on her?” Elle said, sitting on Ivy’s bed.

“I agree, you were very harsh on her..” Jewel added.

“I know..I just…she’s gonna get hurt if she continues this! That boy is going to fall in love and leave her in the cold, and then what? She goes back to being an emotionless doll?!”

“She has us! We could always help her re-learn emotions!” Elle suggested, she knew about Ivy’s struggle to learn emotions.

“It took Ivy fifteen years to even feel any shred of happiness! I can’t stand by and watch her regress to that again…”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ivy slipped quietly into Pomifiore’s common room, closing the window and quietly making her way up the stairs, until she heard someone speak.

“Bonjour Madame Veuve Noire!” Rook smiled from the top of the stairs, causing Ivy to nearly fall backwards.

“SEVENS- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!!” Ivy whisper-yelled, putting her hand on her heart. How the hell did she not know he was there?

“I was awaiting your return to our lovely dorm!” He simply smiled. Sevens, she hated that smile.

“How the fuck did you know I was gone?”

“I noticed you tend to leave often around midnight, you know beauty sleep is important, Madame!” He then grabbed her arms and threw her over his shoulder, “Now off to bed!”

“PUT ME DOWN! I CAN WALK!” Ivy again whisper yelled, not wanting to wake up the dorm, she kicked and smacked Rook but he wasn’t letting go. He only put her down once they were outside her and Soleil’s shared room.

“Have a wonderful sleep, Madame Veuve Noire!” He chirps as he walks away. Words could not describe how uneasy she left around him. Despite that, Ivy slipped into her room, looking over at a gracefully sleeping Soleil, hands folded perfectly on her stomach.

She sighed and slipped into bed, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“This better be good, or else you’re dead meat.” A man in a black suit warned, glaring daggers at the blonde woman in front of him.

“I think this information will be of use to you. The assassin you’re after, The Black Widow, has a weakness~”

“And that is?”

“This boy. Ruggie Bucchi, hyena beastman from the slums who attends Night Raven College. She’s sickly in love with him. Use him as bait and she’s sure to come running.” She places photos of him on the man’s desk.

“And why are you helping us? Why should I believe one of my enemy’s prostitutes?!” The man questioned.

“Because I hate that cunt more than anyone else in the world, I brought her into this world, and I want her out of it.” Madison scoffed, glaring at the picture of Ivy and Ruggie on a bench together. The man chuckled darkly, picking up his knife and stabbing it into the picture of Ivy.

“Consider it done~”

“Come onnnn! Come with meee!!” Ruggie whined, tugging on Ivy’s cardigan. He had been tasked with buying groceries, but instead of wanting the usual stuff from Sam’s shop, Leona wanted food from off campus. With Ivy’s help they were able to get him a pass to leave but he wanted Ivy to come with him.

“I can’t, I’m busy with things. I’m sorry honey, just take Jack with you!” She apologized, leaning her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm around him.

“NOoOoOo, I wanna spend time with you!” Ruggie groaned, snatching her up by her waist and nuzzling his face into her neck. Ivy giggled, placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

“It shouldn’t take you that long. The faster you go, the faster you can get back to me~” She purred against his lips, finding the floor again and slipping out of his arms. “Now hurry up and go before it gets dark!”

Ruggie sighed dreamily, grabbing his wallet and walking out of his dorm.

Ruggie had finished picking up the food he needed, but was struggling to find his way back. It was like the world had turned upside down, one minute he was in a crowded market area and the next he’s in an empty street. He knew well enough to keep his guard up but what could a little hyena do against a trained kidnapper…

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

It had been two hours since Ruggie had gone out.

“Why is he taking so long?!” Ivy questioned, pacing around Savannaclaw.

“I don’t know, but would you quit that! Your stupid heels are making too much noise.” Leona groaned, turning to glare at Ivy.

“Well excuse me for worrying about my boyfriend!” She said sassily. She checked her phone again, to her misfortune, he hasn’t texted her.

“He’s probably just stuck in traffic or something..” The Lion said, rolling onto his back.

“No, it’s not busy, besides he would have texted me! Something’s wrong…” Just as she said it Elle bursted into Savannaclaw.

“Ivy! I need to talk with you! Now!”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ruggie was tied to a pole, a rag wrapped around his mouth to keep him quiet. Tears ran down his face, small bruises, dried blood, and dirt stained his face and clothes. The sight was Ivy’s worst nightmare. A man walked into the frame, his long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, eyes covered by a black mask. He was dressed in a dark suit, it was clear he wasn’t the one torturing Ruggie.

“Hello Ms.Jackson. We did warn you that you’d be making an enemy out of the wrong person. We’ve taken your little puppy, and if you want to see him ever again, you’d comply with the instructions we’ve attached to this video. Your pet depends on you~” And with that, the video ended.

Ivy was livid, she was enraged, she was scared, she was anxious, she could feel every emotion that was not positive. This was the most emotion Ivy had ever felt in her whole life, even when she freed herself, she didn’t feel much.

“What are you going to do?” Elle asked, seeing the look on Ivy’s face worried her.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them.” Ivy answered, starting to grab her equipment.

“What?! But you’ll be killed! They’ll have every measure ready for you! You can’t use your skills to get out of this, Ivy!” Ivy ignored her, moving past her.

“Even if that happens, Ruggie has no part in this! My one goal is to get him out of there, even if I have to die in the process!” She said, storming out of the room.

“…Ivy…”

“In just a few minutes my stress levels will finally go back to normal~” The blonde man smiled, fiddling with the scalpel between his fingers. Ruggie squirmed against the rag, trying to get the rag off. “Ah, my apologies! Let’s see what you have to say!” The man pulls the rag down. Ruggie gasped and coughed.

“What the fuck is your problem! Why are you doing this?!” He coughed out. The man’s smile dropped.

“How typical, you pets and your naïveté,” he groans, “your mistress is a shitty person, especially to me and my group, so we’re getting rid of her!”

“You’re wrong!! Ivy’s not a shitty person, she’s kind, and smart, and she would never hurt anyone!”

“Oh really? Tell that to the millions of people your precious princess has been hired to kill, or has she not told you yet?~”

“…what are you talking about?”

“The infamous assassin no one has been able to catch, some know her as The Mistress of the Dark, the Princess of the night, The Black Widow, The devil’s daughter, or Ivy Jackson.” The man smirks, pulling out pictures of Ivy during her work, pictures of her with men, with executives, covered in blood, around corpses, and with weapons, “She’s earned herself quite the reputation, how sad she didn’t trust you with this information~”

“…n-no…no you’re wrong…You’re wrong!!”

“Am I? Is this not what you expected from your ‘girlfriend’, how sad~” He laughs, dropping the pictures on the ground. “Oh, I do hope you’ll forgive me! This is nothing personal against you, you just happen to be her toy at the moment, and we had to drug you too, so sorry! That drug was just to make sure you couldn’t escape using your Unique Magic!”

“…toy?”

“Well yes, did you really believe you two were actually dating!” The man laughed, “that girl is incapable of any kind of emotion. She’s had many pets before you, she just wants something to play with then she gets bored of you and throws you out like a discarded toy~”

“…no…no, this can’t be true…”

“Poor baby~ let me tell you more about her~”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ivy snuck through their entrance easily, though it had been covered head to toe with security. Having to take out a few of the guards on the inside was slightly tougher but nothing she hadn’t been through. Finally getting to the room Ruggie was being held in, Ivy wasted no time in kicking down the door and aiming her gun straight at the blonde man, Ruggie still tied to the pole but with tear stains running down his face.

“Ah! Ms.Jackson! How lovely to see you!-”

“Cut the bullshit. Let him go. And no one gets hurt!”

“Mmhm! You see the only problem with that is…you’re already dead~” the man smirked, quickly dropping a smoke bomb on the ground, the smoke blinded Ivy for a moment before she started quickly moving around the room.

She couldn’t risk shooting blindly, not knowing where Ruggie was. Suddenly she was harshly kicked to the ground, she heard Ruggie gasp. The man dug his heels into the back of her neck, laughing as he did so. Ivy slid the knife out of her thigh holster, stabbing it into her ankle. The man hissed and backed away, Ivy quickly scampered up and retrieved her gun, shooting at his stomach, chest and legs.

Once the man doubled over in pain, screaming and bleeding, Ivy ran to free Ruggie, cutting the ropes and picking him up. She quickly ran out of the building, making it back to the helicopter. Ruggie tried to catch his breath, struggling to process what he had just witnessed. Ivy held him close to her as they took off, messaging his ears and his upper back.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now my darling. I’ve got you, you’re safe. I promise!” She repeated, tears forming in her eyes. Her words caused Ruggie to relax and fall asleep.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ruggie woke up to a stinging feeling on his cheek, she whined and slowly opened his eyes. When he opened them he saw Ivy, now in regular clothes, holding a cotton ball and some rubbing alcohol.

“Hey…you’re awake! Sorry if I woke you up, I just wanted to take care of your cuts as soon as I could!” She weakly smiled, continuing to clean his cut.

Ruggie whined a little at the stinging but kept still, he was laying on a soft king sized bed, the blankets were soft and warm, silky and expensive. He looked around and immediately recognized Ivy’s guest room.

“…Ruggie…I’m so sorry…” Ivy started, putting away the cotton ball and gently placing a bandage on his cut, “I-I don’t know why that man would do that…I can’t believe-”

“Is it true?” Ruggie interrupted her, not meeting Ivy’s gaze.

“W-What? Is what true?”

“…that you’re a killer?…” Ivy froze. Her body went cold.

“What are you talking about? O-Of course I’m not! Where would you get an idea like that?!”

“That guy told me, he showed me pictures of you! You were there! You kill him! You killed other people!” Ruggie’s voice started to rise. Ivy flinched, struggling to find a way out of this situation. Normally she would have no problem lying to someone but this was the boy she loved, she couldn’t do that to him.

“Ruggie please, just listen-”

“Listen to what?! More of your lies?!”

“No! Ruggie-”

“Was I just a pet to you?! Were you going to get rid of me when you got bored of me?!” He got up from the bed, stumbling over to the door.

“Of course not! Ruggie please you have to listen-”

“Did you listen to your victims?! Did you have to listen to them beg?!”

“Ruggie! They were all terrible people-”

“LIKE YOU?!”

“…r-ruggie..”

“YOU KILL PEOPLE! YOU TOOK INNOCENT LIVES! YOU’RE IN THE MAFIA! HOW CAN I EVER TRUST YOU?!!”

“Please Ruggie! You don’t understand!!”

“NO! I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY FINE!! YOU’RE A COLD BLOODED KILLED! A MURDER! A MONSTER!”

Ivy stopped following him, her legs became weak, tears that she had been fighting back started to well up.

“STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU MONSTER!” And with that, Ruggie slammed the door shut and left Ivy’s penthouse. Ivy ordered her Homunculi to give him a ride back to NRC.

*Blop. Blop. Blop*

“Ivy? What are you doing over here?” Elle asked, walking into the botanical garden of NRC. Ivy had wandered over there to distract herself, failing to realize that her thoughts just got worse and worse. Ivy was just standing in the middle of the garden.

“…he called me a monster…” Ivy mumbled, hands scratching at her arms.

“What? Ivy, tell me what happened!” Elle said, running in front of Ivy to hold her. Jewel slowly walked into the garden as well, staying out of sight.

“..I’m a monster…hehe…that’s right, I’ve always been a monster.” Ivy began to laugh.

“N-No! Hey! What are you talking about?!” Elle desperately tried to get closer to Ivy, only to have her use her Unique Magic on her.

“GET AWAY FROM ME! I’m a cold blooded killer…I’m a monster! I’M A MONSTER!!” Ivy yelled, blot running down her eyes. Elle and Jewel’s eyes widened as the blot took over Ivy.

*BLOP*

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“Are you alright, Ruggie?” Soleil asked, approaching the hyena, who was sitting in the hall of mirrors.

“Ah! Oh..hey Soleil…I’m just…I got into a fight with Ivy…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What was it about? You two hardly ever fight.” She asks, elegantly sitting down beside him.

“…well..it was about…her job..”

“Ah, did she finally tell you?”

“Wait, you knew?!”

“Yes, I have known for quite a while now.”

“B-But you two are still friends?”

“Yes, why would we not be?”

“It’s just…you know…because she…she’s-”

“An assassin? That did not change my perception of her.”

“Why?! She hurts people! She’s killed people!”

“Ruggie. Ivy was born into that situation. She had no choice but to do what she was told. You steal and pick-pocket to survive, do you not? It is the same with Ivy. She grew up in a harsh environment with no way out.”

“Y-Yeah…but…”

“Has she told you about Lev?”

“Who?”

“SOLEIL!! RUGGIE!!” Jewel yelled, quickly running to them. They both looked over at her, she was panting, trying to catch her breath.

“What’s wrong, Jewel?” Ruggie asked, both of them walking over to her.

“IT'S IVY! SHE OVERBLOTTED!”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Soleil, Ruggie and Jewel rushed into the botanical garden, where Ivy’s Overblot form stood. Her hair was now entirely black, down to her ankles, and a black veil was draped on top of her head, her torso and chest were decorated in a black, almost red, top that looked like a gown, she wore various jewels, her fingertips were covered in blot. The bottom of the ‘gown’ was millions of black strings and Ivy’s human legs had turned into three pairs of black, inky spider legs. Half of her face was hidden behind a broken happy mask. Behind her was her phantom, a giant spider with a cracked vial of blot for a head.

(Art by @kiyomizuki , TYSM!!)

Around her were balls of black webs, the three of them could see a few of their friends wrapped up in them, Elle, Allen, Hopper, Riddle, Epel, and a few more. Leona, Rook, Deuce, Trey, Cater, Ace, Jack, and more students were scattered around, trying to fight Ivy.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Ruggie yelled out to Leona, who was trying to free Epel from the webs.

“YOUR GIRLFRIEND OVERBLOTTED! NOW HURRY UP AND SNAP HER OUT OF IT!” Leona barked back, struggling to rip the webs. Soleil rushed to help Rook free other students, while Jewel went to help people escape.

“IVY!! THAT’S ENOUGH!” Ruggie yelled, catching Ivy’s attention. She went silent, almost stopping everything she was doing, “YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR!” Ruggie continued. Ivy started maniacally laughing.

“Ohohohooo! What’s this?~ You don’t like me like this?” She laughed, her voice distorted, she used her webs to pick him up. “Why do you look so surprised? After all, I’m just a monster!”

“T-THAT’S NOT TRUE! IVY! LISTEN TO ME!”

“HAHAHAAA!! USING MY OWN WORDS AGAINST ME?! I DON’T THINK SO!” She cackled. Using the She’s that held him, she lifted him high into the air and slammed him to the ground. He could hear people calling out his name but he could only concentrate on the pain.

Ivy laughed more and stabbed one of her sharp legs into his stomach, not enough to go through but just enough to make him bleed out a lot. “I’m the monster you wanted so badly~ your welcome HAHAHAA!”

Ruggie’s vision went black.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

After a lot of fighting, Ivy had finally snapped out of her craze. She woke up to Elle and Jewel hugging her tightly.

“Oh thank sevens! You’re okay!!” They cried, burying their faces into Ivy’s shoulders. Ivy winced a little but let out a weak laugh.

“Hey you two, calm down..” Ivy looked around, seeing everything she’d done, “...I-I’m so sorry…I..I don’t know what to say…wait, where’s Ruggie?!” Everyone looked away, some pointed at Rook and Soleil who were currently trying to stop Ruggie from bleeding out.

Ivy’s breath caught in her throat, she rushed over to him. Once she got to him, Rook and Soleil moved away to give her space. Ruggie’s eyes were dull, but not lifeless, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth and staining his shirt. Ivy let out a choked scream, fat tears starting to run down her face.

“NO!! RUGGIE PLEASE!! PLEASE STAY WITH ME!! I’M SO SORRY!! PLEASE KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN! P-PLEASE DON’T L..LEAVE ME!! DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE!! I’M SO SORRY!! I’M SO SORRY!!”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“He’ll be okay, his wound isn’t deep enough to kill him.” Via said, wrapping one final bandage on Ruggie’s stomach. She had been informed of the situation and was quick to heal Ruggie with her Unique Magic.

Ivy sat in one of the chairs next to the bed, quietly.

“…Ivy…do you wanna talk about it?” Ivy shook her head, “…okay, umm, I’ll give you two some time alone..” Via walked out of the nurse’s office, probably going to tell the others of Ruggie’s condition. Ivy turned to look at the unconscious Ruggie, tears started to fall from her eyes again. She let herself lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“…h-how could I do this to you…I-I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” She wept, trying to be as quiet as she could. She looked at him, cupping his cheek and placing one last kiss on his forehead. “I’m so sorry…but…you won’t have to suffer anymore..”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Everyone was relieved when they came into the nurse’s office and saw Ruggie awake. They hugged him and shared slightly teasing comments.

“Glad to see you’re awake, ya little runt!” Leona smirked, ruffling his dirty blonde hair.

“Haha, yeah, good to see ya too.” Ruggie replied, hugging Mateo and Kaegen with each arm, both of them refusing to let go. “How’re you guys holding up?” Ruggie asked, looking over at a few of his friends that had been in the cocoons of webs.

“Oh please, your condition is so much worse than ours!” Allen said, he was sat on one of the chairs with Deuce sitting next to him, running his hands on his bandages.

“Seriously, ya got some nerve asking us that when you’re the one with a hole in your stomach!” Epel playful yelled, getting a smack upside the head from Vil, and a scolding later.

“Where’s Ivy?” Ruggie asked, noticing that she was missing.

“She was the first one in here. When we came in, she wasn’t here..” Deuce said, holding Allen’s hand.

“C-Can someone go find her? I wanna talk to her!” Everyone slowly and hesitantly nodded, sending a few people to go look for her.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S GONE?!” Ruggie raised his voice at Elle and Jewel, he didn’t want to be rude but everyone had looked everywhere and no one could find Ivy, her room was left the same, nothing out of place. It was only when Elle and Jewel were questioned on Ivy’s whereabouts that they told everyone that Ivy had run away from NRC.

“…Ivy has decided to never come back to NRC, she’s cutting off contact with everyone…even us…” Elle said, squeezing Jewel’s hand to comfort her. Everyone was shocked and worried.

“Please! You have to tell her to come back!” Ruggie begged again, trying to get out of the bed but was held down by Leona and Rook. “PLEASE! PLEASE!! I NEED TO SEE HER AGAIN!!”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Luka watched as his sister looked out the window, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes were decorated in eyebags.

“…Ivy…I’m sorry…” Luka sighed sadly.

“..no…you were right…I should have ended it a long time ago…” Ivy said, letting even more tears fall from her eyes, “Maybe then…this wouldn’t have hurt so much…”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

It had been a year since Ivy left, most things had gone back to normal, a new school year started. Soleil was now the Housewarden of Pomfiore, she led that dorm with grace and elegance as Vil did, but her vice housewarden had not yet been chosen. Ruggie had also taken the Housewarden role once Leona finally graduated.

The name Ivy became a sore topic, not just around Pomifiore, but the whole school. Freshman would be hushed if they questioned it around specific students. Many students who would give Ivy a bad name would find themselves on the chopping block, especially if Savannaclaw and Pomifore’s Housewardens heard it first.

Many students had dealt with the pain of Ivy’s disappearance, Ruggie and Soleil especially. Ruggie hadn’t stopped looking for Ivy, it was only when Elle started crying with him that he reluctantly stopped searching. Soleil had respected Ivy’s decision but could no longer bear the pain of the stress alone, no one’s wounds had been healed, they were only hiding them. As a last attempt, she sent Rook a letter.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Ivy had been living in a secured home on the other side of Twisted Wonderland, far away from any connections. She had her homunculi do almost everything around the home while she basically wasted away. Her hair became long and matted and her eyes became dull.

While she laid in bed, snuggled under at least five blankets, she thought about everything: about her relationship with Ruggie, her sisters’, her parents, her job, her life, her feelings, her-

“Bonjour Madame Veuve Noire!” And suddenly she was yanked from her blankets and thrown over a shoulder, connected to a very blonde bob.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! ROOK?! PUT ME DOWN!!” She yelled, kicking and hitting him. He simply ignored her and started prancing out of her room. Many of the homunculi got ready to attack but Ivy’s stopped them.

“DO NOT ATTACK HIM!! lay your weapons down!” She warned them, continuing to kick and scream for him to free her.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

They had gotten pretty far into the woods, Rook decided they had walked enough for the day, and as the sun was setting, they’d need to sleep. He placed Ivy down on a stump, reaching for an apple from one of the nearby trees.

“Eat up, Lierre, we must have strength for the journey back to NRC!” He smiled, taking a bite from another apple he plucked. Ivy glared at him but complied.

“Why did you come?” She asked, voice slightly muffled by the apple, “After a year, NOW you decide to come find me?! How did you even find me?! You know what, I don't wanna know that last one, It’ll just piss me off more.” She groaned, taking another bite.

“My darling told me to! She’s been very worried about you, did you know? She’s never stopped looking for you since that day.” Rook said, sitting down on another stump.

“…I shouldn’t be going back…I don’t belong there, Rook..” Ivy frowned while looking at the setting sun.

“If that is true then why didn’t you stop me.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement.

“What?”

“You could have easily used your Unique Magic against me, or had your homunculi attack me, or used the weapons you hide on yourself at all times, but you did not.”

“T-That’s because you caught me off guard! I-I wasn’t expecting you to come and kidnap me!!” Ivy yelled, slapping him on the arm.

“What is truly plaguing your mind, Madame?” Rook asked, the harsh slap not even fazing him.

“…I-It’s Ruggie…I hurt him…I almost killed him! No matter what I do, I always end up hurting him! Every decision I’ve ever made has caused him pain!…he hates me now…” Ivy fought back the tears bubbling up in her eyes.

“Ivy. I have watched Monsieur Dandelion weep for your return the moment you left, he has never stopped searching for you, he aches for you to return to him.”

Rook explained, “And I know you ache for him as well.”

“I do…but no matter what I do…I always hurt him…”

“I know something you could do that would not hurt him.”

“What’s that?”

“Go back to him.” Rook said, wiping a tear away from her face. “Everyone, not just Monsieur Dandelion, is waiting for you. Won’t you come home to them?”

“…yeah…I will” Ivy smiled, her first real smile since the day she Overblotted.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Rook elegantly opened the door to Pomifiore, Ivy on his shoulder.

“Ma Chérie! I have returned!” Rook called out, a few freshmen looked at him weirdly until Soleil walked over to greet him.

“My dear, welcome back. I see you have brought Ivy back,” Rook puts Ivy down, to which Soleil slowly and gracefully checks Ivy for any kind of injury, “Are you alright? Are you injured in any way?”

“I’m fine, Soleil. I didn’t run away to the woods, geez.” Ivy laughed, taking her hands into her’s. “Wow, look at you! You’re a Housewarden now!”

“Yes, I am. It was not only by vote but Vil also nominated me.”

“IVY!! YOU’RE BACK!!” They both turned to see Epel running down the hall and tackle Ivy into a hug, knocking them both to the ground.

“Ack! Haha! Hey Epel! Look at you! You’ve grown up nice and strong!” Ivy laughed, hugging him back tightly.

“I MISSED YA SO MUCH!! YOU’RE BACKK!!!” Epel cheered, “You’re staying, right?!”

“…Y-Yeah, yeah! I’m staying!”

“THANK SEVENS!!”

“Epel, if you could please remove yourself from Ivy, I would like to speak to her, privately.” Epel listened to his Housewarden, helping Ivy off the ground and watched both ladies walk up stairs.

“How lovely it will be to have Madame Veuve Noire back!” Rook smiled.

“Did she fight all the way over here?”

“No, I had a lovely conversation ready to convince her!”

“Then why was she over your shoulder?”

“Before we got on campus she told me to carry her that way, she said because she ‘did not want people thinking we’re friends’.”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“The dorm’s looking good! Bet you’re doing good as Housewarden! Let me guess, Epel’s your vice?” Ivy spoke, walking into Soleil’s room.

“No, I have yet to choose a vice-housewarden.”

“Damn, really? Why?” Ivy asked.

“Because, I have been waiting for your return. I have been saving the role of Vice-Housewarden for you.” Soleil said, pulling out a Pomifiore uniform from her closet, it was a green box, labeled ‘Ivy’.

“…W-What? W-Why me?” Ivy stammered, hesitantly taking the uniform Soleil handed her.

“I could not never dream of another person more worthy of being my vice-housewarden than you, my dear friend.” Soleil said, tucking Ivy’s hair behind her ear, a small and subtle smile gracing her face. Ivy smiled back at her.

“I would be honored!”

Pomifiore was celebrating the return of Ivy and the announcement of their new Vice-Housewarden, when a familiar hyena beastman bursted through the doors. A few freshmen pulled out their pens, ready to attack the intruder but Soleil was quick to stop them.

“Where is she?!” Ruggie’s voice made Ivy’s body freeze. Was she ready to face him yet?

“Ah! Monsieur Dandelion, please come this way!” Rook said, leading Ruggie into the common room. Soleil quickly led everyone out of the room, giving Ruggie and Ivy room to discuss.

“…Ruggie…hehe, look at you, you’re a Housewarden now!” Ivy said with a closed eyed smile.

“Stop it.”

“Huh?”

“Stop doing that! You’ve always done that! Even before we were together, you’d always play off any problems you had!” Ruggie raised his voice, he saw Ivy look away from him.

“…Ruggie…”

“Why did you leave?! I was waiting to talk to you and when I wake up you’re gone?! Why?!!”

“…I was too afraid to face you…after what I had done…”

“…SO YOU LEFT WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING?!! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORTHLESS I FELT?!! YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE TRASH!!” Ruggie yelled. Ivy’s eyes widened at his tone, she knew this was coming but it still hurt her. “You were afraid?!…Good for you! ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO SEE ME!!”

They both stayed quiet for a while, Ruggie finally let the tears fall from his eyes, the tears of frustration and guilt and anger he had been holding in since he became Housewarden. Ivy slowly walked over to him, hugging him tightly.

“Please…let’s just…talk..please.” Ruggie begged, holding on tightly to Ivy’s waist, scared that if he let go, she would disappear again.

“Okay…let’s talk..”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

“Move over! I wanna hear!”

“I can’t hear them! Shut up!”

“Bro! Scoot over!” Many students pushed and shoved at each other, trying to lean against the door to listen to the conversation.

“That is enough. All of you. Come, it is clear that you all need extra lessons.” Soleil warned them, dragging some of them by the back collar of their shirts.

“…Elle told me everything…about your parents, Luka,…Lev” Ruggie said, he was sat next to Ivy on one of the couches. Ivy made a mental note to both thank and scold Elle when she saw her again.

“…yeah…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…I was just…I knew that would react like that…and you had every right to..” Ivy sighed, rubbing her arm with nervousness.

“…yeah…but I shouldn’t have said any of that to you. You’re not a monster,” Ruggie grabbed one of her hands and held it in his, with his other hand he cupped her cheek, “I was dealing with a tone of information being thrown at me. You didn’t choose to work for them, I understand that now…I’m so sorry…”

“No, No, it’s okay! I get it, it’s not the easiest thing to-”

“It’s not just that..” Ruggie interrupted her, his ears laying flat against his head, “The whole time we were together…I never noticed anything, all the signs were there but I just ignored them because I used to see you as my ticket out of poverty…because I didn’t want to believe you had any flaws. But now I see that you do, you have flaws you have to work on, and I wanna help you through them!” He admitted, bringing Ivy closer to himself. “Please, let’s start over, yeah? Let’s be a real couple this time?”

“Ruggie, all this time…I felt like having a relationship with you wasn’t an option for me…I was scared of the danger I would put you in…I was scared that I couldn’t give you a normal peaceful future without completely lying to you…but…but I wanna be real with you. I want a real relationship with you, Ruggie Bucchi!”

Ruggie’s tail wagged, he brought her in and they shared a passionate kiss. This was going to be the start of a much happier time, for both of them.

TYSM FOR READING! MY FINGERS HURT😭

[youmakethelight]

I actually might delete this blog tbh. Not that anyone asked.

I made this side blog 2 months ago bc I loved season 10 of TWD so much that I got really invested in rewatching the whole series for Carol and Daryl, and I wanted to write my thoughts somewhere instead of continuing to annoy my friends who never watched the show. But all my thoughts then were really positive and fun and brought me joy. And now, ever since I've seen the reality of the turn things took in real life, it's just so depressing.

The way Carol and Melissa McBride are treated makes me feel truly fucking horrible. And I've tried to channel that into activism and using my voice in solidarity, but I'm finding it more and more depressing honestly. Most of the voices that made me feel stronger have disappeared, and I'm starting to feel hopeless. And that's especially when I realise how much shit already went on in the past few years before I was here.

It's been a whirlwind few months for me bc I stopped watching TWD years ago and just caught up and binge watched from season 9. After I finished, I found out about everything the fandom, Melissa, and Angela Kang went through regarding the spin-off. Knowing that even after that, we got Melissa back, gave me hope. But seeing how much AMC has ignored other issues and fans' voices makes me feel disheartened. It feels a bit like I'm exerting emotional energy only to be shouting into a void.

It feels wrong to try to move on and leave because the issues remain, and Melissa McBride, in particular, needs and deserves support. But I honestly don't know what I'm doing here anymore.

A week or so ago, I signed up to a website to write fan reactions, reviews etc. about tboc because I thought that could have some positive impact. So, maybe I'll do that... but to be honest, I don't think I've got it in me anymore. I guess I just feel like I'm doing significantly more emotional labour than will have positive impact.

Even when I try to consume feminist progressive media instead, I just keep being reminded of how shit it is that AMC can't do the same for Melissa and her fans, and anybody who works on or watches the show who isn't a straight cis white man. So, then I get upset by a thought I have and go on here or twitter to try to do something positive about it, but it feels sort of pointless. So, now I'm at a point where this blog doesn't bring me joy, and I don't feel like it helps anyone, so I just don't think it's worth it anymore?

I'm literally so bad at giving up on things, so there's a decent chance I won't leave. But to be honest, I want to. I'm tired.

[lillybearrie]

Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara

Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.

Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.

Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.

And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm

[inneedofsupervision]

I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 7)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath. Happy makes a choking sound behind him. ___________________ Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10

Chapter Summary: Rhodey and Tony finally leave, and Peter is left alone with his thoughts.

(Read on Ao3)

Peter's forehead leans against the door. Only after the engine of Mr. Stark's car howled and the tires started to roll did the teen dare push his fingers between the blinds and pull them aside to peek out of the window.

They are finally gone.

With a deep sigh, Peter raises a hand, ready to run it through his hair, only to stop when he realizes that it's still covered in paint.

If Aunt May knew about what he did, he would get sentenced to a week's worth of house chores. Including a deep clean of the bathroom.

"Not my most glorious moment."

After several minutes, with the help of half a bottle of dish liquid, an old sponge, and lots of hot water, Peters's hands were reddened but free of paint and smelled, according to the dishwashing label, of gentle citrus dreams, whatever that meant.

While drying his hand, the teen couldn't help thinking about his act of revenge. It was petty.

Peter feels ashamed to use his abilities for something so childish and silly. He is Spider-Man. He should be the one keeping people from vandalizing, and what did he do? Smearing one of the most important buildings in NYC, just because he let Mr. Stark provoke him.

"If I simply hadn't said anything. Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?"

The guilty conscience grew while he worked on a persistent sauce stain on one of the tables with his rag.

Mr. Stark mentioned his action costing Stark Industries millions. At the same time, Peter felt like the man didn't care about the money but rather about his image, and the flippancy with which the man talked about losing money sparks Peter's anger anew.

It's already dark outside by the time the teenager closes the shop. With his hoodie deep in his face and his head ducked, he quickly walks down the street. May won't be back until tomorrow morning, and if he hurried, he might manage to patrol for two hours before going to bed.

On his way through the city, he walks past a construction site. He halts, and his eyes wander along the scaffold that takes up the whole facade.

"A truck hit the front at full speed a few weeks ago."

Peter turns away from the destroyed building. A man leans against one of the street lights. He has his, several times patched coat tightly wrapped around his body, a bottle sitting comfortably in his hand. He tosses his head, taking a hearty sip before pointing at the building.

"One of the best shelters in the whole of New York. Never mind how busy you got treated like you meant something. They even let your furred friend in there if you had one. Now, we can only hope they rebuild it. To our luck, they put another cafe here."

"I heard about the incident," manages Peter to get out, voice hoarse.

"You're okay, boy?"

The homeless man squints his eyes at him, and something in Peter's stomach coils as the guilty conscience hits full force at the thought of a man without a roof over his head worrying about a random teenager.

A man who didn't have a roof over his head because Spider-Man hadn't been here.

"Yes, I mean, not really," stammers Peter before taking a deep breath, attempting to collect himself. The man eyes him with worry, partly curiosity, and takes another sip while waiting for the teen to finish his sentence.

"It's just that I knew someone. Someone who came here often."

Peter feels ashamed when he catches the man's eyes widening with realization. The man shortened the distance between them, stepping closer, and despite the strong sense of alcohol prickling in his nose, he knew he wasn't in any danger. A heavy hand lays on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about that, boy."

It's embarrassing how his eyes start burning. Peter had to look away from the empathy-filled, bearded face.

"I don't know who you knew from the bunch, but I know many people hanging around here, and most are decent. I'm sure whoever it was, he would appreciate a fine young man like you to remember him. Many people in this city don't recognize us as humans, but you are alright, boy."

The hand on his shoulder gives another tight but comforting squeeze while Peter uses the back of his hand to wipe over his eyes. He manages to whisper a small thank you.

The man didn't look happy with a crying teenager in front of him.

"You want some?"

Peter eyes the bottle with a high percentage of alcohol before his eyes fall back onto the worried eyes of the man. A small smile blooms on his face, and he has to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. He sniffles and wipes at his other eye.

"No, thank you. But there's something else."

The man pulls the bottle back with a grin.

"I'm listening, boy. Spit it out."

Peter manages to give him a grateful smile.

"Would you tell me your name?"

The homeless man raises an eyebrow in disbelief before grinning.

"The name's Jason."

Jason holds out his hand. Without batting a lid, Peter takes the hand, including the filthy fingerless glove, shaking it tightly.

"I'm Peter."

[decks-writing-blog]

I Think I'm Sick Chapter 2/2 Our Best Option

Chapter One

~

Back in the game room the TV was still on. The commercials were at least over, not that the cartoon playing instead held much more interest. But Benrey was too in and out of sleep to play much more than the simplest game and the PS3 controllers needed charging anyway so cartoons it was for a little while.

Instead of lying back down with the heated blanket as he’d been before, he sat with Gordon. At first just leaning into him but that wasn’t enough and he shifted to sit in his lap instead, slouched enough that his head rested against Gordon’s chest. The sound of his breath and heartbeat was soothing. Not that Benrey needed help drifting off again. He was just so tired all the time. It wasn’t fair. Sleep was nice sometimes but it was boring to do so much. And if he was going to die for good soon, he didn’t want to spend most of his limited time sleeping.

Before he could finish drifting off even despite his annoyance with doing so, his phone chimed in his pocket. With great effort, he forced open his eyes and reached to pull it out. It felt almost like he was moving through deep water, making it more difficult than it needed to be but he managed.

It was worth it too because the text was from Bubby. ‘I know what’s wrong with you. Maybe. I have a theory. We’re coming over.’ Not an opening to a fun conversation as Benrey had hoped but maybe something better.

“Who is it?” Gordon asked.

His head too foggy to try to summarize, Benrey held up the phone where Gordon could read it.

“Oh, already? I guess that’s not too surprising coming from him. You wanna head out to the living room to meet them or you wanna stay here and wait?”

“Wait.” They had keys and thus could let themselves in. Just sitting and waiting sucked but he didn’t want to get up yet, he was comfy.

~

With how close everyone lived, the wait was only a few minutes. Long enough that Benrey fell asleep again despite his best efforts not to but not deep enough to not be roused by Coomer’s, “Hello Gordon!”

“Yes, hello Dr. Coomer and Bubby and Tommy.” Gordon spoke not much louder than a whisper. “Benrey’s asleep so…”

“Wake him up then,” Bubby interrupted. “I gotta ask him something.”

Before Gordon could try to argue, Benrey shifted and sat up a little more, forcing open his eyes as he did so. He could get off Gordon’s lap too but didn’t particularly care to. “I’m awake.”

Bubby had stepped up to stand directly in front of them, Coomer and Tommy a bit too his side. The TV was still on behind him but Gordon picked up the remote off the couch’s armrest and muted it.

“Good,” Bubby said with a slight nod. “On the phone, Gordon said something about you saying all your powers are fucked up. Is that true?”

Damn. Turns out Benrey had to talk about it anyway. “I think so. Um, I can’t phase through stuff and my sweet voice isn’t very sweet anymore and uh… other stuff. Nothing works like its supposed to. So yeah, probably all my powers are fucked.”

“You can’t heal either?” Tommy asked. “Like if you get cut or shot or something.”

“Uh… dunno. We could test it.”

“Let’s not,” Gordon interrupted before Benrey could ask if anyone had a knife to test it with. “If you can’t heal from whatever’s making you sick, it’s probably safe to assume you can’t heal from physical injuries either.” A good point.

“And on top of all that you’re extremely low on energy, right? You’ve been sleeping more and more every day for like the past week.” Bubby’s tone was the one he used when he was being smart, implying he was onto something with whatever his theory was. What it could possibly be was a mystery. Benrey was sick, they already knew that. All that Bubby had learned was that it was also affecting his powers.

“Yeah. It sucks. I’m tired of sleeping but uh… too tired not to.” Exhaustion dragged at him like a lead weight trying to pull him underwater.

“Ah,” Coomer said apparently getting whatever Bubby had figured out. “It’s not dissimilar to when my power cells run out; I get tired and none of my implants work the way they’re supposed to. So I believe I know what you’re getting at, Bubby. I’ll let you say it of course since you did figure it out first.”

“You’re sick because you’ve been away from Xen stuff too long.”

“What that does that…” Gordon started before trailing off as something seemed to click with him too. “I guess that is possible, huh? How did I not think of that before?”

“You were uh… probably being too anxious to think clearly,” Tommy answered. “I know I can’t think straight when I’m uh… anxious about stuff too. Being worried make its hard to figure things out.”

“I don’t get it.” Maybe if Benrey weren’t so tired and distracted by the deep ache of something being wrong with his entire form, he could figure out why exactly not having been to Xen in so long was making him like this. He’d only been there once.

“You’re literally made from Xen stuff,” Gordon explained. “And you spent your whole life in a lab with multiple portals to Xen and people going through them all the time. Then when you actually went there yourself, you got a big boost in power or whatever that was.”

“Something in the air there is what fuels you,” Coomer cut in. “You’re like a battery and can store it but you’re running out now. Hence your current state.”

“Huh? I’m a battery.” Benrey had never thought of it like that but it made sense. He could store power in things which implied he stored power in himself. “That’s kinda cool.”

“Probably you’ll die if this continues for much longer,” Bubby said. “So we need to figure out a way to open a portal to Xen sooner rather than later. Anyone got any ideas?”

The silence held, heavy and uncomfortable, for several seconds before Gordon broke it. “The uh… the thing. The way we got there before. It’s dismantled currently so the construction workers rebuilding the broken parts of the old facility won’t see it. But it was never broken and we got all the parts in boxes at the temporary lab with all the other sensitive stuff.”

“It’s big though. Where you gonna build it?” Benrey had been to the temporary lab a few times now. It was far too small for a machine that size.

“Uh… well the only place we’ll be allowed to put it back up is the old facility. And that’s probably also the safest place for it to keep it from people and in case something comes out of it. The old facility’s not done being fixed yet but… I could maybe convince Breen to okay putting it back up anyway. It’d be hard though with the construction workers there.”

“Regardless of where we do it, rebuilding it is going to take weeks at a minimum,” Coomer said. “Probably more like months. It took weeks to pull down after all, putting it back up will take at least as long if we’re being optimistic. Do we have weeks or months?” He addressed this to Benrey.

“I uh… dunno. I started feeling bad a few weeks ago but it started affecting my powers or whatever like a week ago so… it got bad kinda fast. It gets worse every day like um… noticeably.” Heck, it felt worse now than when he’d woken up. It hurt more but even with that, he could easily fall back asleep right now if he let himself. How much longer before he couldn’t even hold his shape anymore? Then from there how much longer before he fell asleep and never woke up?

“Yeah,” Gordon said. “He uh… deteriorated rather quickly. I’m pretty sure he spent more time asleep today than awake. So even just a couple more weeks would be… a rough wait.”

Benrey was going to die, wasn’t he? Not just a maybe he’d realized a little while ago after hearing Gordon voice the possibility, but almost for sure. He didn’t want to die for good in general but especially not like this; wasting away, asleep for more of his dwindling life than not.

Gordon was likely having the same, if not similar, thought process as his grip on Benrey tightened. Pulling him closer as he curled slightly around him. “There’s… there’s gotta be something we can do, right? Maybe make a small one somehow? I mean we can’t just…” He trailed off.

Tommy raised a hand as he stepped forward. “I can… I can open a portal to Xen.”

Oh! How could Benrey have forgotten about his buddy, Tommy? Granted he hadn’t known Tommy could open a portal to Xen but it made sense that he could because he was Tommy. Everything would be fine… hopefully.

Gordon relaxed too, letting out a relieved almost chuckle. “Oh of course. I forgot your dad is some kind of… whatever he is.” He shifted his hold on Benrey, getting ready to stand up with him. “That’s great though. Awesome. Do it now. The sooner, the better, right?”

“Um… I should mention that it’s uh… kinda dangerous. I’m not as skilled as my dad is at that kind of stuff. Particularity the being sneaky part. There are things out there that could uh… they could notice me opening the portal and um… that would be bad. Like real, real bad.”

“End of the world kind of bad?” Bubby asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. We should maybe ask Dad instead.”

“How likely is he to say ‘yes’?” Gordon asked. According to what Benrey had heard of the guy, it was unlikely.

“He… he might. But if he does he wouldn’t do it for nothing, even for me. He rarely does things to be nice because he’s not nice. Another option though is I could put Benrey in stasis while we work on building the thing. Human made portals to Xen are also a risk but much lower. The uh… problem with that one is I’m not… I’m not sure that he wouldn’t continue to drain power even in stasis. Dad’s time freeze didn’t work on him so… I don’t know if his current state would change that or not. And uh, I’m also not as good at that as he is too. He has a lot more experience with this kind of stuff than me.

“You’re a baby time god,” Benrey said.

“Um… ‘god’ isn’t the right word. You need worshipers to be a god, I think. Compared to Dad, ‘baby’ probably is a good word though. I’m only thirty-eight and he’s like… I don’t, several hundred years at least. I’ll try a portal or stasis for you though. I just wanted to go over all our options because it’s important to weigh the risks.”

Benrey wasn’t surprised. Of course Tommy would employ his powers for him even with the risks, they were pals after all. But it still felt nice to hear him say it.

“So,” Coomer said as he lifted a hand to count on his fingers, “our options are ask Tommy’s Dad and ensure safe passage to and from Xen but we owe him a favor. Tommy opens a portal to Xen and we risk the end of the world. Or Tommy puts Benrey in stasis and we build a portal ourselves but we risk the stasis not being as complete as we hope.”

“No particularly good options,” Bubby said with a frown as he crossed his arms. “What do you think, Benrey? It’s your life at stake.”

“Uh… I don’t wanna go in stasis.” Based off of what Benrey knew of how such things were portrayed in science fiction, stasis was too close to death to be a comfortable idea. And he’d just developed a fear of death less than an hour ago. It was way too soon to confront it. He’d like his powers back so that fear could go away already.

“No stasis then,” Gordon said with a comforting finality. “How bad would owing your dad a favor be, Tommy?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me much about the people who owe him stuff. I just know he has people who do.”

Apparently having reached a decision, Gordon stood, bringing Benrey with him. Unfortunately he didn’t keep holding but instead, carefully put him back on the couch. At the end of it so he could face everyone but he still would’ve preferred Gordon keep holding him. But whatever, it was a bit awkward to have a group conversation while cuddling anyway.

Straightening, Gordon stepped back to address the group. “I’ll do it. It’s our best option. Benrey doesn’t want to go into stasis and if you opening it risks getting noticed by potentially world ending entities, we probably shouldn’t if we don’t have to. So… owing Tommy’s dad a favor it is. I can handle that.”

Despite all the unknowns of it, he was volunteering. No hesitation either. And it was for Benrey.

“We’ll do it, dumbass,” Bubby said. “Or did you forget he has more people who care about him than just you?”

“The Science Team can stand up to anything Mr. Coolatta tasks us with,” Coomer added. “You’ll be right as rain in no time, Benrey.”

Tommy perked up. “Yeah, don’t fuck with the Science Team. We can handle anything even… even my dad. I’ll go talk to him then. Be right back.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Benrey should say something, shouldn’t he? What though? He was so tired and the whiplash of learning to fear permanent death to all of them proudly stating they’d be willing to be indebted to a time god for him was a lot. More than he know how to deal with. It made his eyes water. Which made no sense. Crying was supposed to be for bad emotions, this wasn’t. He didn’t know what it was exactly but it certainly wasn’t bad. Being so sick was putting him in weird emotional head space.

Gordon turned to him, opening his mouth as if he say something but whatever it was died unspoken. Instead he stepped closer, leaning in for a whisper. “You okay? Or I guess… dumb question but uh…”

“I’m uh… okay as I can be. Thanks for… just thanks.” The second part he said loud enough for Bubby and Coomer to hear too. He’d thank Tommy too later. “Now uh… come back. I wanna cuddle. And I’m sick and dying so you gotta do as I say.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gordon chuckled softly as he picked Benrey back up so he could turn and sit back on the couch with Benrey on his lap again. He kissed Benrey on the forehead as he settled against his chest again.

“You two and your damn PDA,” Bubby complained even as he sat next to them.

“This isn’t public,” Coomer corrected, sitting on his other side. “And even if it was, they get a special pass because Benrey’s is indeed sick and dying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just annoyed about having to wait for Tommy’s dad.”

Having to do more waiting to find out what was going to happen next did suck. But Benrey’s last nap had been interrupted by everyone’s arrival. He’d feel a bit better if he returned to it. “Wake me when uh… Tommy’s gets back, kay? So I know… what’s gonna happen and stuff.” What they were going to do if Tommy’s dad declined to help or if what he wanted in exchange was something they couldn’t give, they’d figure out when they got there.

“Okay.” Gordon gave him another kiss on the forehead as he drifted off.

~

It wasn’t Gordon or any of the others that woke Benrey though but instead something he couldn’t possibly name. Whatever it was made Gordon flinch.

With effort, Benrey opened his eyes and sat up to see Tommy’s dad standing in front of the couch now. Tommy stood slightly behind and to his side. The TV was on but frozen. Tommy’s dad was doing his weird time stop powers again. Whether he was trying to freeze Benrey too or was letting him go this time was unclear. It did feel different than before though or maybe that was Benrey’s imagination.

“Does this mean you’re going to help us?” Coomer asked as he and Bubby stood from the couch.

Mr. Coolatta let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I suppose it does. Having you… four, I suppose, since you’ve seemingly tamed the beast, in my debt isn’t something to scoff at after all.”

“He’s not a beast and we didn’t tame him,” Gordon said as he pulled Benrey closer. Standing up for him like that wasn’t necessary, Benrey didn’t care about being referred to as a beast, but it was nice that he’d done so anyway. He cared enough about Benrey as a person to talk back to a time god.

“If you say so, Dr. Freeman. Now let’s…”

Bubby interrupted. “And what the fuck are you gonna have us do for you in return?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll get back to you on that when I call in the favor. Now, as I was saying, let’s get to fixing this little… problem, shall we?”

The world shifted around their group. Benrey was suddenly standing next to Gordon instead of curled up in his lap. Rude, he’d been enjoying cuddling. They were in a blank void but only for a moment as everything shifted again and the sky was suddenly a familiar purple and blue. The ground beneath Benrey’s bare feet felt felt soft and spongy.

Instantly he felt better. One breath was all it took for him to go from barely awake to feeling normal. The next had him energized. From there it grew more and more until he his whole form was tingling with it. It was too small and restrictive to hold all of it. He held it in though, savoring it.

“You feel better?” Gordon asked as they all turned to look at him, even Mr. Coolatta.

Yes! He felt so much better in fact that words didn’t feel like they could possibly convey it. Instead, he laughed as he turned and sprinted off the edge of the floating island they’d landed on.

He let himself fall, the boundless sky blurring all around him as he plummeted past floating rocks and there was even what looked like another small island. The rush of air was exhilarating as it made his baggy clothing flap around him like a flag in the wind. Taking a deep breath, he let out a string of sweet voice, all the colours, adding to the swirl of visuals around him.

The first time he was here, he’d discovered Xen gave him new powers as well as improved all his other ones. Namely he could make his clothes change shape with him and he could fly, sort of, standing on air didn’t really count but it was close. It allowed him to freely expand his form, slowly at first but then rather quickly until his was big enough that all the power flowing through him didn’t feel like it was about to make him explode anymore. He then reluctantly slowed and stopped his fall before righting himself to a standing position.

Stepping up was a bit of a pain but he had big legs now so he could go quite far up with just one big step up. And thus in only a matter of seconds he was on level with the floating island he’d started from. Gordon had gone to the edge of it to look down. Reaching to touch him, maybe even pick him up, was tempting but… humans were fragile. It’d be way to easy to accidentally hurt him. Instead Benrey settled for just coming in close, staying low so he wasn’t towering over everyone too much. A little bit of towering was cool though, right?

“Asshole,” Bubby said. “You almost gave Gordon a heart attack. Fucking idiot, running off a cliff.”

Oops. Benrey hadn’t thought about how it would’ve looked to them, especially given how long he’d let himself fall for. “Sorry.”

Gordon pulled back from the edge – good, him being that close probably wasn’t wise lest the edge decide to crumble away – and sat down so he could lean back on his hand and look up at Benrey. “It’s… okay. I take it that uh… you feel better?”

“Yeah. I feel great.” Being in Xen came with a odd feeling as if he and the air around him were constantly vibrating slightly. It hadn’t been pleasant last time in how quickly it had grown to be too much. But after so long being endlessly exhausted and hurting, how energizing it was, was amazing.

“Congratulations on not dying, Benrey!” Coomer said.

“We’ll have to make coming here a regular thing now, right?” Tommy said. “Probably we wanna… you know, build a teleporter for next time because my dad might not want to do this again. We have time though.”

“About a year,” Coomer cut in. “Based off how long it took Benrey to power down this time. My batteries last about a year too.”

“Are you done yet?”

Benrey looked up to see Mr. Coolatta still standing exactly where he’d come in at, his hands folded behind his back. “Or would you like to… ‘hang out’ as the kids say?” he continued.

“Hang out a bit.” Benrey was still enjoying the feeling for now. “To make sure that uh… I don’t feel like that again anytime soon.” Spending more time here might mean he retained more energy upon returning.

“I’ll be back in two hours. Be ready to go by then.” Mr. Coolatta vanished.

“Guess were here for two hours then,” Gordon said. “As long as Benrey’s okay that’s fine. Even if this place is uh…” He trailed off. His face was too small to get a good look at but he sounded like he was grimacing.

Right, yeah. Last time he’d been here, he’d been scared of Benrey and scared and stressed in general. A lot had changed between them and Benrey had learned more about how far was too far. But that wouldn’t necessarily make this a comfortable place for him.

Benrey shrunk himself. Not a lot, only so that he wasn’t towering quite so much. He leaned it, resting one arm on the floating island and laying his head down on top of it so that he was looking mostly at Gordon but the rest of them too. His other hand he moved towards Gordon.

“Can I uh… can I…” How did he ask? Should he even? He wanted to touch and hold and make it better but he was so much bigger now. That made him scary, right? Was Gordon scared of him?

Gordon stared at him in silence for a few seconds, visibly tense before relaxing with a sigh. “Sure. Go for it.” He didn’t even know exactly what Benrey was asking. Having so much trust was… scary. Benrey didn’t deserve it. Things were different now but he’d still hurt Gordon once upon a time. He knew better now and Gordon had hurt him back, ultimately winning their fight, but… still.

Questioning good things wouldn’t do much though so he moved his hand closer. Gordon probably would’ve been about as tall as the tip of his pinky to the base of his palm if he were were standing up, maybe a bit shorter. He was sitting though and thus Benrey’s hand engulfed him rather well as he cupped it around him. He was tense but didn’t struggle so before Benrey could chicken out and careful not to grab, he scooped Gordon up into it.

“Okay,” Gordon said as he wrapped his arms around Benrey’s finger. “This is fine.”

Benrey pulled him closer to his face, careful not to jostle him too much. It was tempting to straighten and bring him up too but he wasn’t going to do that yet. Maybe in a bit when he was more sure he could do so gently. “You’re so little.”

Gordon’s face was harder to read when he was so small but that earned a small smile. “Nah, you just got big, dude. Which is pretty cool actually.”

“You’re not scared?”

He thought about it for a few seconds before replying. “No, I don’t think I am actually. When you ran off the edge I was but… that’s not what you’re asking about. Things were different last time we were here. But we’re cool now.”

“More than cool.” Things were great, especially now that Benrey wasn’t dying anymore.

“Yeah, they’re pretty great actually. I’m glad you’re okay. But since we’re here anyway and you’re already holding me, um… maybe lift me a bit higher so I can see more stuff.”

As gently and carefully as he could, Benrey obeyed. Straightening, he lifted Gordon as smoothly as he could before raising him a bit higher to give him a good view of the alien landscape surrounding them.

“Wow uh… this sure is something.” He sounded nervous.

“I won’t drop you.”

“I know.” More of that trust, voiced now. Still not entirely deserved but that was okay. He’d somehow earned Gordon’s trust anyway and he wasn’t going to squander it.

“There are so many inappropriate jokes I could make about this,” Bubby said. “But I won’t because I’m a good guy like that.”

Benrey looked down at him. “Want me to pick you up too?”

Tommy raised his hand. “Ooh, ooh, pick me up!”

Coomer raised his hand next. “Me too!”

Finally Bubby had time to reply. “Eh, I guess if everyone else is doing it, sure. Just make sure you don’t drop me over the edge.”

Taking inspiration from Gordon’s extra robot arm, Benrey grew two more arms out of his shoulders so he could pick all three of them up. One in each hand and one at a time, careful as he possibly could be. They weren’t as fragile as Gordon but still, they were so small they felt fragile.

Once he had all of them in his hands, he pulled them close to his body where they felt steadier. “Let’s go for a little walk then, huh? This place’s got lots of cool stuff too look at that we didn’t get to explore last time.”

A fun little adventure with his friends in Xen certainly beat sleeping on and off until he died for good. He probably wasn’t ever going to forget the fear he’d gained of permanent death though. It was too upsetting of an idea. … It was also a fear Gordon still faced though, had never not faced. Maybe Benrey would try to see if he couldn’t do something about it.

~

[A/N] The request I was talking about at the top of this fic was for them going to Xen. Which I already had this idea for so it fit perfectly. I held off on doing the idea for a bit since it's further in the future than anything else which probably contributed at least a little bit to how long it ended up being; I had a lot of time to build the idea.

[saccharine-dean]

I've been having ATSV brainrot (particularly Gwen-centric) as of late so hear me out: Spider-Man x SPN

16-year old, junior-in-high-school sam winchester as spider-man.

his mother died when he was a baby, and his father only very recently. he lives alone with dean, who got custody of him after their father's death. even though this only happened a couple years ago, really, dean has been raising sam all their lives.

sam likes home fine enough. dean isn't too bad as a parent for a 20-year old- he has a job at the local garage, makes sure sam is fed, and for the most part he doesn't act like dad.

it's just that he can be a bit overprotective. sam gets it, but it's frustrating.. and it's the reason he refuses to tell dean about his secret identity. but it's okay- dean, for his part, is ironically a pretty big fan of spider-man. sam knows he tries to hide it, but it's obvious- dean thinks the mystery vigilante in their city is cool.

that is, until one day:

sam is way, way in over his head with this one. unaware of the existence of the multiverse (though he has theories) and being the only superhero in his town, he has nobody to call for backup. the villain nearly lands a fatal blow on him way too many times for comfort, and he's losing stamina fast. a crowd of people has gathered to watch, all cheering him on from the sidelines.

enter castiel: dean's boyfriend of 2 years, a really stand up guy. he's a little awkward and sometimes he can be just as protective as dean is, but for what it's worth, sam loves him like a brother. it's just... he's also approaching the street where the fight is taking place. blissfully unaware, he holds a bouquet of flowers in his hands, walking the last couple blocks to surprise dean at work.

it all happens so fast: one minute sam is dodging another shot from the villain, the next the projectile is ricocheting off of a metal awning, and BAM- it hits castiel in the chest, and time seems to freeze.

sam screams.

he doesn't notice much of anybody else after that- the villain retreats once sam is crumpled on the ground next to castiel, or at least he thinks so. sirens blare all around him, ten times louder than they were before, and sam can't help himself from putting his head to castiel's chest and sobbing.

and then he hears the one voice he dreads the most at this moment:

"Cas?"

sam looks up, deer in the headlights, and sees his brother in what may very well be the worst shock of his life.

"No. No, Cas, no-"

dean shoves him out of the way and lifts castiel up in his arms, and as he's frantically swearing and checking for a pulse, sam does the only thing he can think of to do, and he disappears.

even though dean comes home past 3:00 that night, sam is still up, sobbing into his pillow. assuming he heard the news from the TV, dean wraps him in a fierce hug and mumbles comfort into his shoulder through his own tears, promising to sam that he'll catch the son of a bitch who let castiel die.

it's been maybe four months since then, and sam doesn't know how much more he can take of this.

dean's animosity towards spider-man is now one of the most transparent things about him. sam knows he shouldn't take it to heart, shouldn't believe that dean would think these things about him if he knew, but hell if he isn't tired of being called a monster, a coward, a freak.

there's another large scale fight downtown that nearly goes awry, but there's these new people that appeared from some kind of portal and for once he has *help,* some actual allies to save the day with him, and suddenly he feels much lighter, much easier. sam manages to save them at the last minute, and as he's standing there catching his breath he hears his brother's voice break the cold air:

"Found you, you eight-eyed bastard."

sam had been telling dean as himself for weeks not to stake out every crime scene in new york, that he could get himself hurt or worse, and every time dean gave the same answer- "so?"

and so now, standing there shaking from the adrenaline and the wind and the blood, it's not that sam is surprised necessarily- it's just... god, he is so, so, tired.

"Please," Sam begs him when he turns and sees the gun pointed at his head. "I- Whatever you think I did-"

"You're the reason the love of my life is dead," Dean hisses, and even after all this time, it still makes Sam freeze. "How about that, you son of a bitch?"

"It wasn't me!" Sam shouts, and his voice breaks at the inclination. "It was a mistake. I didn't... I didn't kill Castiel."

Dean freezes.

"What did you just say?"

and so four months after castiel's death, eighteen months after he became spider-man, sam finally does it- he reaches up and pulls off his mask.

it's done.

"Sam?"

dean's voice is broken beyond repair, and sam is sure he looks the same way.

"I didn't do it," he whispers.

but dean doesn't respond. he just stands, gun still raised and shaking between his fingers as he stares at sam with the look of utmost betrayal.

sam feels a phantom tap on his shoulder, looks up and sees the woman from earlier. he thinks he heard the older man call her missouri?

she raises an eyebrow and nods to the newly opened portal, and sam's eyes widen as he realizes she wants him to go with them.

he spares a glance back at dean, who immediately notices his thought process and makes to run at them, but the woman stops him in his tracks with some kind of trap. dean is screaming sam's name and banging against the barrier, yelling that he better not leave, or... well, who knows. sam doesn't hear it. all his focus is oriented on the glowing web of orange and red and green in front of him, offering a new beginning, a better life.

castiel once told him that growing up is hard- you're thrust into the world without any knowledge of who you are or what you're supposed to be, and that feeling of being utterly lost can be challenging, but not to worry- everybody finds their place eventually. deep down in the gaps between the turmoil pooling in his gut, sam thinks that maybe, just maybe, this might be it.

he turns his back to dean and jumps.

[sorentymn]

Wolf Song

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2. The chase

“If you were any good at what you claimed this would not be happening.” The small Saxon man running in front of her croaked with ragged breath, though he kept his voice low, the assassin caught every word. If they weren’t being pursued by ten berserkers all the size of jotuns moving surprisingly fast, she’d hit him with the handle of her axe but he did have a point.

No, she isn’t a lousy axe for hire in fact her set of skills is worth ten times more than the coins paid to convince her to embark on this hellish journey but pride does not keep one fed. She could last the winter with what she managed so far if it came to it, but a little more couldn't hurt. Well, she's not so sure anymore.

A week ago she was approached at an alehouse by a hooded man (hardly the most suspicious of characters considering she took countless odd jobs in the past.) and was instructed to escort a merchant to a port town a few day's journey by foot. The task seemed easy enough, except this ‘precious cargo’ liked to talk.

She made the mistake of leaving him unattended at an alehouse a few villages back to replenish supplies and naturally to escape him for a short time. Unfortunately, this idiot gave them away to the correct party. Unbeknownst to her, they had been followed by a skilled tracker who disguised himself as an interested pair of ears and approached the Saxon at just the right moment, the very few times she let him out of her sight.

Now they found themselves running for their lives pursued by the Raven Clan and they are nothing if not persistent. Rúna and her whining coin purse were hunted every single day. They’d stop at a village and an arrow would fly past them by a taunting inch. They’d start a fire and the brush would have eyes. It eventually got worse, they had to huddle and keep to themselves with any remaining ration to avoid having to re-supply and delay the journey and of course to not end up dead.

Days later their pursuers caught up to them as they tried crossing a harsh stream. She concluded that If the Saxon was not needed alive they’d have already been shot dead. Judging by their pursuer's tactics, they were breaking them psychologically. Their goal is to take them both alive and she does not want to find out to what end.

She could no longer feel her feet, her instincts morphed into something primal as it was starting to feel like death may be nearing with every tired step. They did not stop when the weather got harsh, not to rest when rocky banks looked tempting, not even when their stomachs were beginning to swallow themselves. They did not have a choice. The Saxon it seems is battling a similar demon but he does not have the same resolve. A merchant like him is probably accustomed to furlined beds, good ale and all things delightful and now this will betray him. She had to push and drag him along like a stubborn cow for what felt like aeons until they finally arrived at a maze.

The pair entered a high and tight mountain pass. Wall-like stone formations squeeze like crevices on crusted mud only a few could squeeze through at a time. These slits are extremely unforgiving as all you're able to anticipate is the path before you, only front or back. Given a wrong slit is chosen, this could lead to dead ends hence its reputation amongst those living nearby as the Witch's Pass. But all is not hopeless. She'd been here before on the run as you do in this line of work and happened upon a cave tucked behind a wall of overgrown foliage. This could save them, she thought and so she dragged him by the collar and with her last burst of energy she pressed on leading them through meandering passages while also listening for the footsteps pursuing them.

They went completely quiet a few moments back and she’s not sure if that’s a relief.

She cut the vines with precision, holding gently to keep the vine curtain intact as she pushed the man into the cave and they both tucked themselves deep inside. This serves as a hideout temporarily but they won't be able to remain here forever. If only this isn't a dead end. The minute the Saxon discovered this fact, he began fervently praying and her own hands were starting to tremble from stress around the handle of her axe.

But there is hope…they may not find the cave. Every breath felt like a lifetime. She could hear her own heartbeat so loudly that for a brief irrational moment, she wondered if they might hear it. The jotuns roamed the path in front of the cave and from the sound of trickling rocks, they were also above the maze which is unfortunate. She was hoping they could exploit that treacherous climb.

Both their fates now banked on the hope that none of the warriors notice the cut veil. As the voices came closer and closer, her pounding heart couldn’t bear it any longer. It's any minute now before they find the cave and she’d rather fight her way out than be cornered like a desperate animal, so she started to prepare.

“W-what are you doing?” the Saxon whispered, frightened and she hushed him with a stern look before pressing her aching hand to her chest and chanted under her breath “I will fight well and should the Nornir see fit to cut the threads of my destiny, I shall see glory again in Valhalla.” The man despite not being native to this land knew what this meant and attempted to grab her, desperate to cling to his last hope of survival but he was shrugged off. She did not spare him a glance as she took sturdy steps towards the entrance of the cave and every thought fell away as she became one with her instrument of death. 

She parted the vines and that immediately drew attention to her. The ogres reared their heads and like a deadly wave, they surged towards her. Rúna had always fought like an animal, calling it the gods' gift to weather the cruel consequences of her birth. She fights without sound like a hunting spider, nimble and graceful but without structured movements a traditionally trained warrior would expect to move. She's a woman no longer, but one of the animals she often encountered in the dark woods of her upbringing. 

She managed to cut down the warriors easily with her years of mastery. One after the other they fell, the next would get slightly harder than the one before. But something is wrong. She managed to count ten...where are the other five? She took this intermission to breathe deeply and wipe the hot blood from her face. She wracked her brain for the next decision, go back for the Saxon and run or find the five before they found her but before she could decide...she ran out of time.

“That’s enough!” The voice roared through the trees from no direction in particular. It sounded as if the sky itself commanded a stalemate. The voice was raspy, deep but unmistakably one belonging to a woman. Rúna spun doing her best not to look frantic as she turned in every direction hoping to find the source of the voice that’s when a pair of dark wings dove from above, its claws like a cruel rip against the canvas as it scratched dangerously close to her eyes. She shrieked and fell, shocked at the unexpected attack. But before she could register the situation, a figure followed just like the raven before her landing gracefully beside her on the ground with an axe pointed at her throat.

The strong light from above shrouded the towering woman in a dark silhouette at first but as she crouched the darkness washed away revealing a stern painted face. Her ocean-blue eyes were like a burning sea, their intensity stole her breath in a way that felt alarming, just as alarming as the ice-cold sharpness threatening to pierce the crevice beneath her chin. A weft of pale interlocking braids peeked down the side of her large hood like a serpent and then there was the scar, a long gash across her left cheek down to the upper edge of her lips. Death is remarkably beautiful, she thought senselessly. “I’ve had enough of you, *beiskaldi.” The raven woman spat. 

The assassin's vision suddenly blurred in one eye when a droplet of blood pooled into her eyes and this signalled the end of her adrenaline-fueled state. She could feel every cut on her body pulsing all at once and the tip of the axe pressed to her throat felt closer to puncturing her by the second. It could not be more obvious that she is at this mysterious woman’s mercy and the journey is over. 

“You have been patient with me.” the pinned woman managed with a bitter smile. This was met with a scowl.

“Who hired you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?” She replied earnestly with a smile that did not meet her eyes. Not to mock her victor so much as her jaded response to the situation she’s now stuck in. Wouldn't be the first but somehow never less unpleasant.

“Don’t be foolish, I could kill you right now.” the woman threatened her voice slightly louder as her anger simmers to the surface.

“And I believe you, but I really don’t know.” That wasn’t the answer the raven woman was looking for. She shifted storing her axe calmly by the straps at her waist, not to conclude this interaction but so that she could strike Rúna on the floor with a deafening thud. She felt every bit of that hit and it made her head ring. Then another came like Thor’s thundering lightning thrown across her face again and again almost breaking the surface each time. By the build of this woman, she was holding herself. This is but a sliver of her power...

”...stop” Rúna rasped between the blows and then she did halt. Her hand on the bleeding assassin's half-torn collar was shaking. She looked at the assassin with unmistakable anger, the kind that meant the bodies she cut down meant something to her. Friend or family she did not know, but such is the nature of the life she lives. This wouldn’t be the first massacre she's responsible for.

She stared at her bleeding husk for a moment before she huffed and dropped her to the floor. “Grab the *bacraut, we’ll deal with this when we get back.” The woman jutted her chin towards the cave, to the Saxon burden she’d been dragging across mountains for the past week. As the bodies began to shuffle around upon her orders only one thought came to her. At least it’s over now. Rúna ’s vision began to blur from the mixture of blood loss and the repeated blows to her face and the back of her head just moments ago and eventually, the world melted into darkness.

Chapter 3.

[localicecreambiter]

Chapter 2 is finally ouuutt and it only took like... a montth

ignore that :P

heres the Ao3 link, but I'll post the chapter text below this time too

Legend was not having a great day… then again, when did he ever?

New quest from the Goddess was going just great. Absolutely fantastic. Because apparently 6 adventures wasn’t enough as it stood. No, the goddesses seemingly were not satisfied with that, so a 7th was sent his way. Perks of being the favorite I guess, he thought with a tired bitterness. He stopped tracking the time they’d spent on the road after the first two weeks. It wasn’t worth the upkeep with everything going on, so why bother? Clearly Hylia’s business (it was easiest to blame her) wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, so there was no point in torturing himself by timing how long it took to get back home.

They’d gone through dozens of worlds, multiple Hyrules: some places unknown to any of them, some they call home. To say Legend had anticipated another world hopping adventure so soon would be lying, but who would know? Hylia knows not anyone else in the Chain. He could lie his ass off about virtually anything, and they’d believe it without a second thought. The few graces of being the group veteran. …not that he intended to do that. No, he liked the group too much to be that much of an ass to them.

Ah yes, the group. The Chain. His brothers in arms. His annoying compatriots that enjoyed loud mornings and exaggerated stories around the fire at night (also very loud). They were a rowdy group, sure, but Legend found he didn’t mind it all that much as the days went on. Wild may set things on fire more often than not; Twilight smelled of wet dog and talked too much about goats; Wind couldn’t keep his mouth shut, bombarding the group with questions about the most mundane things (seriously! He knew the kid was from the middle of the ocean but Legend refused to believe their resident sailor didn’t know what a pinecone was). Warriors had an ego the size of Death Mountain (great battle strategist all things considered); he admittedly knew little about Four, seemingly the most level headed of their group, but they got along together just fine. Hyrule was… well, Legend quite liked the traveler (though he’d hardly ever admit it). Time liked to keep to himself, only fueling the chaos on a few occasions, looking out for each and every one of them no matter the situation. Despite his qualms and complaints, the past however long they had spent traveling together weaved a tight knit trust and deep seeded care within the group. Not even Legend could escape from that, not that he really wanted to anyway. It was nice having someone to watch your back from time to time.

Now, back to his griping, “Ugghh! We’ve been on this stupid trail for hours! How have we not found a town yet?” The ground squelched beneath bootfalls, still puddled with rainfall from the night before and the muggy air did little to raise his spirits. It left his hair frizzed and hands sticky with moisture no matter how many times he wiped his palms on his tunic. Over the years, a lot of things had made their way onto the Things That Really Annoy the Hell Out of Legend list: humid weather made the top 20. They might as well be swimming at that point, really.

“Oh, chill out Legend. A little humidity never killed anyone,” The captain was quick to quip back, but there was no mistaking the underlying agitation in the ways Warriors fidgeted with his cape and gloves. “Your hair will be fine.” Legend snapped his hand away from his head, leaving tousled locks tangled in order to prove a point.

The vet smirked, arms crossed across his chest, “Projecting your worries onto me won’t make ‘em go away Miss Prissy Pants.” He had the pleasure of witnessing the older hero whirl around indignantly, mouth open in preparation to fire another shot.

“Enough from both of you.” Great, so it wasn’t just him growing more irritated with the humidity. Time shot the pair a warning glance, signaling there was to be no fun or joy had on their trek. Whatever, he still claimed the victory in stride, a smug grin blooming once the eldest turned away. With everyone being so tense — frankly more agitated than Legend was on a mediocre day — their impromptu hike lapsed into an awkward silence. The low rumble of storms rolling on the horizon and the abundance of cricket chatter was the best he was going to get as a distraction. So yeah. The quest was going great.

“Whose Hyrule do you think we’re in?” Legend’s ears pricked to attention, mumbled conversations behind him (usually gone ignored) peeking his interest. The two shortest — and if he had to guess, youngest — of the Chain trailed in the back, Epona clopping at their side. Wind’s hair puffed out more than usual, lower pant legs caked in mud and what Legend hoped was very pigmented clay. The kid seemed perfectly content in the weather, the son of a dodongo. Four kept running a hand through tangled locks, cringing at the way his fingers harshly caught on the knots.

“Traveler’s. Too barren to be anywhere else,” yet despite the gross weather, the smithy always held that level headedness to him. If Legend were to admit it — and he himself knew he wouldn’t — he was a bit jealous. The hero could probably watch someone keel over dead and it wouldn’t outwardly affect him. Or maybe Four was just better at compartmentalizing things for later. Either way, the kid knew how to hold himself together.

“Didn’t he say the air was toxic or something?” Legend didn’t even need to look to know the expression Wind was wearing. Left brow raised, eyes squinted slightly, pouty frown tugging his lips downward, and skeptical glint in his eye. A kid far too expressive and open for the uncaring world he was thrown into, a sinking familiarity always followed that thought. He’d been like that too when he first started, after all. Just some bright eyed kid who got thrown in the midst of something bigger than himself, paying the price for an evil he had not committed.

“No, Sailor. That was the water.” It was around then that the veteran slowed his pace slightly to walk next to Wind, expression light and curious. He had no input yet, but the message was clear: I want to be included in the conversation. It wasn’t often that Legend sought out a connection like that, letting it come to him rather. No matter how strange it felt to initiate, the others clearly didn’t mind it. He may be prickly, but he could be good company in his humble opinion.

“What?!” The two other heroes grimaced at Wind’s sudden volume, Legend skillfully suppressing a grin when a hand slapped over the kid’s mouth. “Oops. I mean… What?! Poison water??”

“No, toxic water. If it was just poison, it wouldn’t hurt you unless you drank it.”

Legend cocked a brow, deciding, “Same difference,” was a good contribution to the conversation.

Four scowled, lower lip sticking out just a tad too far. If he looked any more upset, the veteran would think he’s pouting. “No, it’s not. The difference in meaning is crucial when relaying dangerous informa-”

“How are you supposed to go sailing on that? At least back at home it’s just poison water.” Wind stared up at the pair innocently, eyes wide with questions crackling in his ocean hued gaze. Neither decided to question what the second half was supposed to mean, already having contemplated the logistics of a “great flood” before. Poison water wasn’t that far fetched when it came to the sailor’s Hyrule.

Legend snorted, “You aren’t, dimwit.”

“With a raft?” The new voice startled the trio, all three heads whipping to gawk at Hyrule. If he thought the sailor was sneaky, leave it to their traveler to catch them with their pants down (another reason he never wore pants. Never have them on, and you never get caught with them down). “…What?”

“You’ve actually sailed??”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it sailing. More just floating around on the lake until I can get to where I need to go.” Legend narrowed his eyes, gauging how Hyrule was affected by the weather while the other three chatted. He, like the sailor, seemed to have no qualms with how astoundingly horrendous it was. It irked him more than it probably should have. In the veteran’s time, it never got this nasty unless he was close to a swamp. The fact things got so fucked after he passed… It wasn’t his fault, that was for damn sure. Not very much you can do about darkness overtaking the land when you’re dead.

“It’s gonna storm soon,” the subject change ripped him from his thoughts, eyes landing on Wind. The kid was looking off at the darkening horizon, watching the clouds churn into a tempest that hopefully they would never have to brave. “I’d say in ‘round 5 flips of a sandglass.”

The group blinked owlishly, Four being the first one to put things together.

“…So 2 and a half hours?”

“Yup, sounds just about right.”

“You know, you can talk like a normal person, right?”

Wind cracked a grin, “Where I come from, that is how normal people talk.”

Legend let the conversation fade into the background, eyeing the stormy horizon just as the sailor had. With how their journey was going so far, a storm was the last thing they needed. Sure, it’d probably clear away the sticky air, but running around in the rain wasn’t something he really wanted to do at the moment. His boots were muddy enough as it was. Just as he thought to mention Wind’s storm theory, there was a buzz in the air. Magic. It was familiar — a far away familiar, but familiar nonetheless.

He stopped walking for a moment, violet eyes narrowing at the muggy surroundings. The treeline was silent, the rolling fields of dying yellow crops whipped violently in the breeze, the sky rumbled, but there was no sign of a source. The veteran’s brows furrowed further, face screwing up in suspicion that something was amiss. He knew that feeling, and he knew that he did. Something that reminded him of home in the most warped way possible, feeling almost wrong yet right all at the same time. It was confusing, eluding his conscious efforts to pinpoint just where he had felt that before.

Footsteps died out, Legend having yet to notice the rest of the Chain slowing to a stop. The burning gazes of 8 other pairs of eyes falling on one person should have alerted him, but being so caught up in that feeling… Where had he felt it before? Goddesses it was on the tip of his damn tongue. Think Legend…

A firm hand grasped his shoulder, sending a jolt through the veteran hero who instinctively reached for his sword. “Hey! Hey, easy there partner!” Legend blinked, eyes shooting up to stare down an admittedly alarmed Twilight. “You alright there? Hear a monster?” Looking past the furry blockade, everyone else was on high alert. It wasn’t like the vet to freeze up like that, not without warning.

“No. No monster from what I can tell. I’m fine I just…” His eyes landed on Wild, with his bow pulled taught and poised at the ready for an ambush, “remembered something, is all.” Technically, it was a half truth. He recognized something, yet struggled to remember where he recognized it from and what exactly it even was. It was an adequate enough answer, as the rancher backed off with a nod. Silence returned to their group, but Legend could hardly care less about that now. His mind was elsewhere. It was going to bother him for the rest of the day if he couldn’t figure out where-

A blood curdling yowl — seriously, a yowl — nearly blew out his eardrums as a particularly ugly moblin burst from the treeline with 3 more in tow.

“Why’s it making that face at me?!” Metal screeched as it clashed against steel, but there was no mistaking Four’s perturbed cry through the fray.

“Sorry about that,” came the sailor’s response, “It’s one of mine! They make some really stupid faces!” Legend had to duck and roll out of the way of an oversized shield nearly wacking into him. Two were focused on one, three on another, Time facing one alone, leaving the last to Sky, Wild, and himself.

“This one’s mine,” the Skyloftian announced to the group. “I’ll distract it so you two can get in a few backstrikes.” He hopped away, slashing for the brute’s shield while Legend crept up from the side. Drawing his tempered sword, dark blood soon seeped from the moblin’s back with no more than a few swipes and a couple arrow shots. The monster tried to turn, only to get sliced by Sky’s blade, regaining its attention. Lucky for them these things were stupider than dirt, not even able to take the defensive right. With a group of nine seasoned heroes, now more used to fighting together, it took less than 10 minutes to clear out the lot of them. With no further signs of another attack, they were free to check for injuries.

Hyrule got nicked in the side, nothing he couldn’t fix himself, Legend was sure. Twilight seemed to have taken an impromptu trip to the tailors with the new scratch marks in his undertunic. Warriors’ nose was bleeding, but other than that and a few scrapes he was fine. Everyone else got off with nothing more than a scratch or a bruise here or there. Good. That meant the veteran wouldn’t need to be dishing out any potions any time soon.

“Are we all accounted for?” Everyone turned their attention to Time, standing with a hand on his hip and the other on the hilt of his sword. He continued once he got confirmation, “If they attacked now, it probably means there’s more at a camp nearby. We’ll split up and look for it: Wind in one group and Wild in another. If one of us finds it we’ll alert the other via your.. Rock things.” The sailor beamed, ushering everyone to line up because it “was his turn to be team captain,” whatever that meant.

Ultimately, he was placed in Wind’s group with Warriors, and Time. They had more than enough manpower with the two war veterans, the sailor, and the actual vet. Wild had a map, and Wind was their best navigator, so getting back up would be easy as pie… if that pie was on fire with raw crust and half cooked filling. Yeah, splitting up in unfamiliar woods is never a good idea.

Especially when you’re trying to fight off an archer ambush and your navigator is being shot at.

“I’m gonna need a second- FUCK!!” An arrow shaft stuck haphazardly in the sailor’s arm, jostling with every move he made. “Shit! Oh, that’s gonna hurt-”

“Focus! Make sure Wild can find us. We’ll cover you!” Warriors, on cue, blocked another volley with Wind’s dropped mirror shield. If it weren’t such a high stress situation, Legend could’ve sworn the captain would say something stupid like “return to sender” or “eat shaft.” The thought made him smirk, distracting him long enough that their attackers managed to graze his leg.

“Oh, for the love of Zephos!” The vet didn’t have time to turn around and check on their youngest, reflecting back another volley himself in hopes to hit something. A flash of grey caught his eye, loud snarling following a blur of fur and monster parts. Back up had finally arrived.

“Took long enough!”

“Hey, blame Wind! Would’ve been here faster if he held onto his rock!” Long, unruly hair streamed behind a dirt covered, scared face. With a few THUNKS a handful of their assailants went down, yellow energy crackling out of the disintegrating bodies.

“You try and hold a stupid rock while being shot at!” The sailor grabbed Legend’s arm and yanked him to the side just in time for an arrow to narrowly miss piercing his nose, much to the veteran’s dismay. “I had that-”

“Sure you did!” Wind ducked out of the way of a sword slash, coming face to face with more moblins. “Think we found that monster camp yet?”

Legend really didn’t know how the kid could keep up the quips while avoiding getting smacked in the head, pulling his blade back out for round 2. Digging in his bag, he fished out a hookshot for some spontaneous strategizing. Latching it into a tree somewhere off in the fray, he took the opportunity to zip around and stun anything and everything. Battle was serious, sure, but having a little fun with it when you’re winning couldn’t hurt.

When the dust settled, all that was left was a single black lizalfos.

The black lizalfos.

Who made a break for it the second it realized it was outnumbered, like the damn coward it was.

Chasing did little for the group, as their path ended in a clearing with a large portal swirling before them. He caught Time making a mental check of everyone before pairing them up to go through: Twilight and Wild, Sky and Four, Hyrule and himself with Wind tagging along, leaving Time and Warriors to follow up at the back.

“Stick close together. So far these portals have spat us out in the same place, but we never know when that will change.”

“I just hope the weather is nicer wherever we end up,” Legend heard Warriors mutter, most likely jinxing the group with his stupid wishing. If the weather was anything but pleasant he was going to throttle the captain.

“Best get goin’. The storm be upon us soon,” Wind ever so gently (read: not at all gently) pushed Wild toward the swirling vortex. Everytime Legend saw one of the portals, he was reminded how little the light mattered as it was eaten away by the vast darkness before them. In some strange, twisted way, he found solace in that. If there were to be one constant, he’d rather it be the comfort of darkness than a blinding light… but maybe he was biased. After all, few of the best people came from the Darkness. A flash of purple rabbit ears and sharp red eyes pulled at his lips, threatening to spill his happy memories for all to see. But no, he grabbed at those images, shoving them back into their respective places and neatly filing them away in the crevices of his mind. Those were his and his alone to keep, for none to see and not to be shared. Not yet, at least. Not after what had been said. Not until apologies were made. Until then, the fleeting feeling of fond annoyance and steely, yet soft gazes hurt too much to remember.

“Hey, earth to Ledge! We’re about to go through!” Right, the portal. They were on a completely different quest. Now was not the time to be taking a trip down memory lane. With a deep breath, hands firmly held by the traveler and the sailor, he stepped into the void churning before him.