#The Curses We Inherit Ch 14

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - Epilogue

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13.9k 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.* Pregnancy. Some healing of generational trauma, reconciliation, regret, past pain. But mostly fluff. Summary: In the time after returning to your original timeline, life seems to have many more surprises left for you and Max. Notes: Editing this chapter has been a good old fashioned cry at my laptop, I will admit that entirely. This little family has given us such a wild ride, and we are so grateful to each one of you for reading along for every twist and turn. Please join us for Hummingbird Has Landed, starting next week!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17

Six months fly by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it the day of the wedding has arrived. Seacliff has been thrown open for the occasion, decorated top to bottom in roses accented with spring wildflowers and with every curtain thrown open to let the sunlight in. At the end of your second trimester, you tend to get tired earlier in the night so you and Max had opted for an afternoon wedding with sort of an high tea theme for the food. The music is all perfect for dancing to, of course, and everyone from the dance studios you now frequent to the girls from the coven to your extended vampiric family has been invited. He’s even made a few friends at the firm where he now works, opting to go into real estate this time around. After spending a hundred years building different houses, he knows a thing or two about it.

Allison and Eddie will be the ones to stand up for you today, of course, as Allison learns each day a little bit more of what it means to be a vampire who has kept her humanity through every step of the change. You and Max had stood up with them at City Hall a few months ago and helped throw their more laid-back wedding reception at Chateau-sur-Mer. Now everything is set up for today’s success as well. All that’s left, really, is for Max’s surprise to arrive.

Max hovers, a habit that he’s developed even more as your stomach has grown. In love with the slow heartbeat of his child in your stomach and the sweet smell of your blood. He craves you more than you know, but he’s refused to drink from you since finding out that you are carrying his child. Not willing to risk anything, even after decades of taking your blood.

“Everything’s fine, love.” He’s always been a doting partner but for the last few months it’s increased exponentially and somehow you’re even more in love with him for it. “We’ve had weddings before. Everything will be just fine.”

“I know.” He does know that, but for some reason, this is the one that is making him nervous. “I’m excited.” He admits quietly. “This one is us. Our original timeline.” He pushes away the pang of sadness that seems to be creeping up every time the baby moves, or he thinks about being a father. The loss of his family is more poignant in this time because there’s no good reason they are not here.

“That’s why this one is exactly what we wanted. Good music, good food, not too fancy but not too casual.” You reach out and squeeze his hand, rubbing gently along his arm. “It’s the Goldilocks of weddings.”

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, shaking away his disappointment that parents who don’t care about him aren’t sitting on the groom’s side and focuses on you. “You should sit before the ceremony.” After so many years together and so many weddings, it seems ridiculous to observe the ‘no seeing the bride before the ceremony’ tradition. “The baby was really active last night; I know your sleep wasn’t the best.”

“The baby’s excited.” Over your second trimester you’ve started to get the feeling that your little witch-vampire pup can sense your emotions, and he knows you’re excited for today. “And Tracy brewed me a little potion for today. Energy without caffeine so I won’t get too tired and I can enjoy the day.”

He eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything. Always wary about portions because he’s paranoid, not because he doesn’t trust the witches that make up your very supportive coven. “Do you want a little massage before we start?” He offers, knowing how much you enjoy the back and foot massages he’s gotten pretty good at.

“It’s perfectly safe,” you assure him, but you’re already sitting back in your favourite chair with bare feet ready for rubbing. This is not going to be a day for silk stockings or anything delicate like that. “It’s one of Lina’s recipes. Tracy is having fun going through her grimoire.”

Max chuckles at how quickly you move when you are offered a massage. It’s cute how much you enjoy being pampered and he loves to remind you that you are the absolute love of his life. “Honestly? I trust them. I’m just worrying to worry.” He tells you as he sits down on the little foot stool. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are today?”

"Hmmm, only once." Max starts in on your swollen, achy feet right away and you hum happily, sinking back into your chair and letting your hands cradle the large bump that threatens to take over your entire torso. Max Phillips makes big babies, apparently. "The grey suit is one of my favourites, by the way," you hum, referencing the three-piece heather grey suit he chose for today with dark red accents that match your bouquet of roses and Allison's red bridesmaid dress. "You look like a dream."

“Not nearly as dreamy as my pregnant, gorgeous, glowing wife-to-be.” He teases, winking at you. Since the beginning of the week, he’s called you his fiancée or wife-to-be. The new ring on your finger would never replace the original that has so much meaning for the both of you, but he has always given you new rings for every wedding. “But I have to try to look my best when I will be by your side.”

"I hope you don't mind." Holding up your other hand, you show him the original engagement ring he gave you in 1885 sitting on your finger, like a family heirloom accenting the beautiful sapphire ring he chose for you in this timeline. Your something blue, he had told you with a grin. "I felt like this time was the time to wear both."

“Whatever you want.” He promises with a grin. “Eventually we will have enough rings you can wear a different one every day.”

"I'll have a very full jewelry box for our son to pick from when he eventually proposes to his soulmate." Finding out you're carrying a little boy had had both of you crying in the doctor's office, overwhelmed and emotional about the next generation of your family to come.

“Very true.” He presses his thumb to the arch of your foot and he grins when you groan.

"I'm so glad I decided not to wear heels today," you huff, laughing slightly as your head falls back on your chair.

“Me too.” Max snorts. The sparkly white shoes you have chosen are cute and practical. “Although I still like the barefoot and pregnant wedding idea.” He teases with a wink.

"Maybe next time." That draws a deep laugh from you, and you lean back even more. "We'll have that one in summer, when being barefoot doesn't mean stepping on cold floors."

“Next time.” He agrees, although he doesn’t know if there would be a next time. All that matters is your comfort. “We still have an hour and a half before the ceremony.” He chuckles. “Maybe we’ve become too efficient at getting ready for these things.”

"Probably. Sixth time's the charm, I guess." You both laugh, enjoying the quiet and the comfort of being together upstairs in your bedroom. The Taylors, Renee, and Mr. Finchley were all invited to come today as guests but they had balked at the idea of not helping to put together today's event. As a result you've had twice the staff in getting the house ready today and everything is ready ahead of schedule. "Although..." you glance up at the clock and realize it's almost time. "I did plan a sort of...surprise for you today."

“Sweetheart…” he tilts his head and pouts at you adorably. “I thought we said that we were going to keep it low key?” He huffs. “Now my surprise is just going to be a normal wedding gift exchange.”

"I know what we said, and your wedding present is entirely separate." The photo album isn't technically complete anyway, since it has photographs of your first five wedding days already set in it but has left plenty of room for your sixth. "This is just for you."

“Is it something kinky?” He asks with a wicked grin on his face. “I can get behind that. Unless you want to get behind me???” He jokes.

"Not until this little pup comes out to greet us," you laugh, knowing your maneuverability isn't great these days.

“I don’t know, you were pretty kinky last night.” He reminds you. “Or was that someone else that wanted to ride my cock while I gave her tits all the attention?”

"Oh no, that was the horny pregnant woman you're marrying today." And damn last night was a good night.

“I know, and I love her.” He laughs and looks around. “So tell me about this surprise?”

As if on cue, there is a knock at your bedroom door and your own housekeeper clears her throat gently on the other side. "Mrs. Phillips? It's time."

"Thank you, Mrs. Moreau. We'll be down directly." Thankfully your shoes are nearby, and you flash Max a small smile. "Ready, love?" You ask, knowing that he has no idea what's waiting for him downstairs.

“Sure.” He shoots you a suspicious look but quickly applies himself to putting your shoes on. “You’re lucky you don’t have stinky feet.” He teases and pats your knee when he puts your foot down, both of them now wearing comfortable shoes.

The result of about three months' worth of phone calls is waiting downstairs, and you take Max's hand to walk downstairs together. There's a chance he'll be upset with you. Angry, even. But you've known him for long enough now that you don't think he will be – or at least you hope that he will see the gesture for what it is. A loving attempt at bringing him the happiness that you know he's been missing from his life.

He’s curious when he sees that the formal parlor is where you are guiding him. Wondering what you’ve had delivered and he stops dead when he hears a voice he has not heard for a lifetime. He wouldn’t recognize it for the fact that it was permanently attached to a thousand different childhood memories.

"I reached out about three months ago," you explain, feeling him stop dead beside you in the hall. "I told them that we were getting married and that we're expecting, and honey...they miss you so much."

“They— you called them?” He asked dumbly. “That’s— that’s my parents in there?” He asks, feeling like he’s in a dream even though he’s not dreamed since he’s been changed.

"I'll let them tell you everything." He isn't shouting or refusing to see them, so you're taking his quiet wonder as a very good sign. "But...I obviously left out the whole time travel, magic, and vampirism part of our story. I did tell them we're Wiccan, though. So they wouldn't be confused by the handfasting today."

He nods but he doesn’t say anything. Still process the fact that his parents are beyond those doors. People who had abandoned him when he needed them most. Part of him wants to run away, to refuse to see them, but you are squeezing his hand and looking so hopeful when he finally looks at you.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” They’ll be disappointed, and so will you a little, but you’ll all understand. “I just knew that if I asked you about having them over, you would refuse on principle.”

“No.” He chokes out, shaking his head and for a horrible moment, he thinks he might cry. “I just can’t believe they came.”

“Well…” When you look up at him again, you offer him the softest, gentlest smile possible. “They wanted to apologize in person.”

“What did you say to them?” He asks, unable to believe the people who had disowned him, told him they never wanted to see him again, want to apologize.

“I actually did very little of the talking.” You nod to the door and squeeze his hand again, ready with a handkerchief if he ends up needing it. “Do you want to go in?”

“Um, sure.” With his free hand, he meticulously straightens his vest and his hair before he moves. He’s nervous and honestly a little afraid his parents want to ruin today for him.

When the door opens there are two people standing by the windows, looking down the lawn where your wedding ceremony will be and out to the sparkling ocean. Jeff and Maria Phillips stand together in a moment of awe before Maria is rushing forward and stops still in front of Max with one arm outstretched. “Max.” Her instinct is to call him honey, but she doesn’t know just how much he would hate that. “You—we tried everything we could think of to find you and we’re—” She chokes up almost instantly, The regret painted on her face as obviously as daylight.

“We’re so sorry, son.” Jeff has come up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. “We should have taken you at your word when everything happened and we didn’t. That’s—we can’t undo it, Max. But we’ve regretted it every day.”

“Why?” That is the question that plagued him for years. The thing that had broken his heart and confused him. His parents weren’t the warmest people, but he had thought they had loved him enough to believe him. “You told me I was a disgrace to the Phillips name, that you wished I had never been born.” He reminds them. “Why?” His hand lets go of yours and rests on your stomach protectively. “I can never imagine telling my son something so cruel.”

“We received a phone call from the young man who…who accused you.” Usually quite a proud man, Jeff Phillips flounders in explaining himself to his son — a fully grown and obviously proud man in his own respect. “And from the Dean of your college, as well. We were told the proof was irrefutable and we knew you were ambitious, it all just…” he stops, shaking his head and letting it hang in a moment of shame. “Your great-grandfather, my grandfather, had done a lot of very unfortunate, mostly illegal things to get ahead in his lifetime. I tried to raise you as far away from that kind of life as I possibly could, and it—it was a lie that hit too close to home. And I thought I’d failed you. Instead of taking responsibility for that, I lashed out. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for it. But your soulmate reached out to us and said you were getting married, so we wanted to at least tell you that we love you on your wedding day.” The gift they had brought was out on the table in the foyer with a few others that had been mailed — an heirloom for the baby with a long letter of explanation and apology. That way even if Max didn’t want to see them, they could at least leave him with words of love in another way. The Phillips family crib and baby blankets made by Max’s grandmother belonged with him now.

Max swallows harshly, knowing that before you, before his time in the past, he would have sent them away for the pure pleasure of watching them hurt the way they had hurt him. To lash out and make them feel the rejection and heartache he had lived with for years. Except, he had to watch history repeat itself in a sense. Knowing the path that was before a headstrong daughter and equally stubborn parents. Watching the silent heartbreak and pain when their daughter distanced themselves from them. Knowing the further heartache that was awaiting them. He had sworn that he would be better than his parents and if he sends them away, what does that teach his son? His parents only have a small amount of time left, should he deny himself that time out of some childish need for punishment? Over the centuries, Max would like to believe he’s matured.

He frowns, looking at the table that has the gifts on them and then looks back at his parents. “Are you staying?” He asks, unsure if they wanted to stay or if they just wanted to make peace.

“We’d like to,” his mother offers, eyes flickering once over to you and then back to her son. She knows the decision isn’t theirs or yours. “But only if you want us to.”

“What made you look for me? Do you think that I’m telling the truth? Or—” Max has to know, he has to know what changed their minds.

“We tried to look for you just a couple of weeks after everything happened.” Maria takes a small step forward, so deeply hopeful that Max will forgive them. “The school said they couldn’t tell us anything besides the fact that your transcripts had been forwarded to another university, and there wasn’t a Find My Phone or anything like that, that we could use to try to find you.” Her voice wavers, obviously emotional, and she sniffles softly. “We realized that the son we’d raised…you didn’t deserve to be shunned even if you had made a mistake. We’d just been so shocked that we reacted on instinct.” Another small shake of her head comes with a few small tears that Maria quickly wipes away. “We should have believed what you told us over anything else. Over any other fear or story. The more times we talked through it, the more we realized…cheating was never the shortcut you were going to take. You always worked too hard for that. And we’d pushed you away for nothing.”

“I had to go to Romania to find a school that would accept me.” Max tells them, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he wrestles with himself. “You lost the son you knew there.”

Your hand slips gently over his, holding it in yours and wondering if this was a mistake. You know how much Max misses his parents, but some hurts are just too deep. It would be truly unfortunate if this was one of them.

“It’s obvious you’ve become a good man even without us.” His father acknowledges, nodding sadly. He knows he failed his son in so many ways, and he really doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. Maria had fought him in the beginning and brought him around to the truth in time. “But if you’d let us, we’d like to get to know the man you are now.”

“There’s something you need to know before you make that decision.” Max opens his eyes and looks at the older man who is so much like him, even though he has his mother’s ears. Then over to his mother who looks like she is about to break down sobbing. “I’ve wanted you in my life for years, but I won’t let you back in only for you to run away when you find out.”

“Whatever you want to share with us, we want to hear.” It’s a promise, and Jeff Phillips doesn’t take that lightly after all this time.

“Technically….” Max squeezes your hand gently. “Your son, I— died in Romania.” He admits quietly. “I was turned into a vampire.”

The quiet in the room could be cut by a knife, and you hold Max’s hand tightly while his parents process what he’s just said. It’s confusion — deep confusion — more than anything else, but after a seemingly interminable few minutes, Maria nods. “Are you happy?” She asks, aware that her husband must be looking at her like she has three heads right now.

“I am.” Max nods. “I have my soulmate and our child. I’ve done things you would never believe. And now, I am seeing you again.” He gives her a small smile. “After I— was changed, I came back. I saw you from a distance.”

“The world gave you a witch so you would have someone to understand you.” Maria observes, nodding solemnly. You had explained the pertinent parts of being Wiccan to his father over the phone months ago but hadn’t had that conversation directly with his mother so you hadn’t heard her reaction personally. “When did you come to see us, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. It’s a term he hasn’t heard from his mother in over ten years in this timeline and it makes him bite his lip. “August 14th, 2013.” He gives a small shrug. “Your birthday.”

It’s heartwarming, and unexpected, to know that he had missed them too. Just because you had said so in your call — it did not mean it ran deeply. But Max and his mother had always shared a mutual fondness for birthdays. “I wish you had come inside,” his mother admits, although she smiles in a sort of lopsided way. “Although…could you have? If we had not invited you? You’ll have to tell us what is real and what is legend.”

It’s curious that his mother automatically believes him, and he wonders if they think this is some kind of test. He’s testing to see they will believe him and chosen the most outrageous thing. “I don’t have to be invited in.” He laughs.

“Do you remember Vera?” His mother asks, seeing skepticism in her son’s eyes before looking back at her husband too. “The woman who lived next door and would babysit for us when Max was little?” To you she explains, “He would get off the school bus and go to our next-door neighbor’s house for a few hours until Jeff or I got out of work. Whichever one of us got home first would go next door and tell him we were home.”

“Yes?” Jeff frowns slightly, wondering why his wife would bring up a neighbor that was long moved away.

“When Max was a baby, and I would go over to her house during the day for a little change of scenery?” She pauses and looks back over at you with a smile. “Maternity leave can make you feel like your mind is melting sometimes. Find a safe place to get out of your own house. Even if it’s just someone else’s house.” The advice to you seems decent enough, and you barely have time to smile in acknowledgment before she’s looking back to her husband and son again. “Vera used to tell me stories from home,” Maria explains. “And…folktales are always founded in a little bit of truth, aren’t they?”

“She was Romanian.” Max remembers suddenly. “She told you about vampires, didn’t she?”

“She did.” Maria nods, but ends up shrugging reluctantly. “I thought she was an eccentric old lady, but I was grateful for the company. Now…I wish I had taken notes.” Stepping forward one more time, Maria takes a chance and reaches out for Max’s free hand. “We already lost you once, sweetheart. If this means we’ll never lose you again? That your soulmate and your son will never lose you? Then it’s a blessing.”

“I just— I didn’t want you to find out and throw me away again.” Max murmurs quietly. “I had planned on honoring your wishes, to never see you again. But— I— I’m glad you’re here.”

"We never should have said those things." Jeff was the one who said most of it, and he's been humbled enough by regret over the last decade to just...accept whatever it is that life puts out in front of him and his family. He may not understand it, but better to be confused and follow his wife's good example than to risk losing everything all over again. "We missed you, son."

Even though he doesn’t need to breathe, Max exhales loudly, trying to keep from crying. The whole in his heart that he’s refused to acknowledge since the day they had disowned him, finally starting to heal. “I’ve missed you too, Dad.”

The hesitation is cut from the room as Max's parents lurch forward to throw their arms around him and hold on to him tightly. As much as he hates to let go of your hand, he does, needing to basically catch his parents as they hug him. Closing his eyes and trying not to bawl like a baby as he inhales the scent of the people he had never imagined being close to again.

Maria is the one who cries, being dainty about it because she doesn't want her makeup to run or to stain her son's immaculate suit, but she can't help herself. It was not so long ago that she thought she would never get to even see Max again, let alone hug him.

The embrace goes on for longer than he had ever imagined until they break apart and Max turns his head towards you to find you crying quietly into a handkerchief. “Dolly, come here, my love.”

"I'm sorry," you murmur, laughing at yourself a little as you dab at your eyes. This is the reason you hadn't done your eye makeup yet. "Pregnancy hormones."

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” As soon as you are close, you are bundled into his arms and he is pressing his lips to yours. “I love you. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

"I'd do anything for you." And as many times as you've said it, the meaning always holds true. You would turn the world upside down for him – and you even have the power to do it after a hundred years spent honing your magic. "I love you so much."

“I love you too.” He promises gently. Kissing you once more before he turns to his parents. “Let me properly introduce you.” He offers. “Even though you’ve spoken on the phone.”

"We want to know everything." Max's father has handed his wife his handkerchief and is obviously stifling his own emotional reaction – and doing a very poor job of it.

Max pulls you closer to his side and his other hand is proudly protective on your stomach. “This is Dolly.” He does mention your real name, but wants them to know that you prefer your nickname. “My soulmate. The most wonderful woman in the world and the woman I will waltz through eternity with.”

Maria moves to embrace you without hesitation, but Jeff’s head tilts in obvious confusion and curiosity. “Waltz?”

Right. He had never really danced when he was with them. It was picked up in Romania. "I started ballroom dancing." He explains. "An elective in Romania. Dolly also ballroom danced competitively. My favorite thing to do is to waltz with this beautiful lady." He admits proudly.

“We choreographed our first dance,” you tell them proudly, as soft as ever at Max’s side. “You’ll see. He’s an exceptional dancer.”

Maria bites her lip, aware of missing so much time with her son because of their foolish mistake and she nods. "He is exceptional." She reaches out for one of his hands and squeezes it gently. "And you seem so happy." That's all that matters to her.

“We are.” If anything, that is the thing you can promise them. That you’re happy and living the very best, most fulfilling life you possibly can be. “Max is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

"And...his being a vampire is what caused you to meet?" Jeff asks, curious to how the two of you met and trying to wrap his head around the whole situation.

“My grandfather was one of Max’s professors in Romania.” This is the part that is going to get careful explanation, as you hadn’t gone into it over the phone. “He is also Max’s sire. That is…the vampire that turned him. My grandfather took Max under his wing, and even brought him to live with my grandmother here in Newport before she died. I met Max when I moved into that house, as well.”

"I see." There's obviously more to the story, but he won't pry. Right now, he is just glad the boy is talking to him. He knows that Max inherited his stubborn streak, and he could have been rightfully turned away with an expletive and he would have deserved it.

“You’ll meet him today, if you stay for the wedding.” There are still a few more months on Yayo’s ticking clock to join his wife and daughter in the afterlife, but he is waiting until your son is born to leave this world. He had smiled when the decision was made, telling you that wanted to bring good news to Cookie and Annie in the next life. “My grandfather is…a little dramatic,” you smile, stifling a laugh. “I’m afraid it’s a family trait.”

Max chuckles. "And since he is a vampire as well, he looks younger than you, Dad." He warns the other man. "However, Dolly's grandfather is the first vampire. The oldest in existence and has walked the earth for thousands of years."

“It’s a bit of a long story.” The expressions on both of his parents’ faces are something like an undergrad trying to work out a complex math problem, and you shake your head while running a soothing hand over your belly. “Can I offer you a tour of the house?” That, at least, is semi normal. Even if your house was built in 1888 and is still a functional Gilded Age mansion.

“It is beautiful.” Maria nods instantly and Jeff shakes his head. “Do you mind if I speak to Max privately?” He asks you before looking at his son. “Would you, son?”

You look to Max for his confirmation, and when he nods and leans over to kiss you, you offer him an encouraging smile. “I’ll show your mother the library first.”

Max nods, his eyes following you out of the room and he wants to follow you, but he is curious to what his father wants to say privately. Only when he can't see you anymore, do his eyes turn towards Jeff and he arches a brow.

“She’s quite a girl.” He says after the door closes, gesturing to where you have escorted his mother from the room with grace and surety.

"Yes she is." Max will always agree with that. His proud little smile on the corner of his mouth shows his happiness at being matched with you. "She's been through a lot and is still the kindest woman I've ever known."

"When she called us the first time, your mother thought she was an angel." Jeff smiles at that, his wife always has been the gentler out of the two of them. Just like with you and Max.

"In a lot of ways, she is." Max nods. "I normally call her Queenie, as another nickname." He tells his father. "And she is amazingly graceful, carrying a half vampiric child."

"And her..." his father clears his throat. "Her grandfather is...also a vampire?" He's not willing to go against a single second of this, his son is too precious to him after all this time, but he wants to at least make sure that he has everything he's being told straight.

"Yes." Max looks at his father. "I would have met her at Vanderbilt. Discovered that we were soulmates there. I actually had a blind date with her the day I was kicked out." He reveals. "But that didn't happen and luckily her grandfather recognized her birthmark on my arm and changed me." He slides his hands into his pockets, a defense against the hurt that is still there but slowly lessening. Ever more so now that his parents want to be in his life. "He arranged for us to have the meeting we should have had nearly fourteen years ago."

"Jesus..." If his wife was in the room, Maria would scold him for taking the Lord's name in vain, but Jeff just shakes his head. "I..." Jeff blows out a breath. "I know saying that I'm sorry will never be enough. But I really...I'll never stop saying it, if that's what it takes for you to believe how much we regret what happened."

"I believe you." Max has become closely acquainted with actions taken in anger and regretted later. He believes that your mother would have eventually broken the magic binding if she had lived. "Dolly and I talked about reaching out, but for a long time, I was so hurt, I wouldn't have come to you for anything." He sighs softly. "My wife doesn't have much family left. Her parents are gone, and I know she wants as much love for our son as possible. It doesn't surprise me that she contacted you."

"She said she lost her parents, and that you shouldn't have to lose yours as well." It's sweet, Jeff thinks, that his son already refers to his soulmate as his wife on the morning of their wedding day, but he doesn't say anything. It seems like your lives are complicated and he doesn't want to judge. On that, he has learned his lesson. "Max, you should...you should know..." He clears his throat again and casts an eye around the room. "I never actually changed my will. By the time I came out of the fog enough to even talk to our lawyer, I realized the mistake I had made. But it was already too late to find you."

Max frowns slightly, wondering why that would matter to him. Why he would be concerned with his father's will, but then it clicks. His father wants to talk to him about some kind of inheritance. He tilts his head curiously. "I see...."

"Obviously you don't...you don't need my help." The house his son lives in now is a literal mansion. It's far bigger and better than anything that he and Maria were able to give Max growing up. But there is a matter of principle and pride in making sure that they leave what they can to their son when they leave this world. "I had a cousin. A distant cousin, I mean. Who died two years ago. And the guy left behind a big plot of land as well as some assets. Combined with what your mother and I had planned to leave you...it's pretty substantial." He shrugs his shoulders a little, hands in his pockets in a posture that mirrors his son's. "Do whatever you like with it. It's yours. Or maybe your boy's, who knows?"

"Dad...I appreciate that." He promises, meaning it. He had long written off the idea of anything from his parents. "More than you know."

"Maye we can all take a trip together sometime?" He's lost so much time with Max that even being called Dad again has him close to tears, but he shakes it off for now. The day is already emotional. "I guess my mother's side of the family had some money, so it's a nice piece of land in upstate New York. Tuxedo Park. 'Pullman House', I think it's called. Can you imagine having enough money that your house has a name?" He chuckles at the idea, not realizing that his son’s current home most definitely has a name, and shaking his head.

Max freezes for a moment, his eyes widening slightly and he has to take a moment. "Pullman House?" He asks, remembering visiting the house, the last time being a very somber affair. "I— are you serious?"

"Yeah." Jeff nods, taking out his phone to pull up the pictures of the house and grounds that the estate lawyer had sent over. "Have you heard of it?"

"I— I didn't know we were related to the Pullman's." He admits, never looking into his family tree when he was back in time with you. He hadn't wanted to. "How?"

"My grandmother was a Pullman." He doesn't quite see why it matters, but Max seems to recognize the family name so he hands over his phone with photographs of the sprawling mansion. "They made train cars, I think? Back after the Civil War. Must have made quite a bit of money at it, to have a house like that, but it's not in the best shape now. We, uh...your mother and I thought, we could invest a little in it now to fix it up and rent the house out while we're alive. And once we're gone it's yours to do whatever you want with."

"I've been there before." Max tells him with a nod, "I mean, in the area. Tuxedo Park. It's gorgeous from what I remember." He lifts a brow and decides that maybe he should put forth an idea of his own. "It could be something we do together?" He offers. "Dolly and I love historical architecture. Obviously." He chuckles as he glances around the room. "We can start the restoration and see what happens?"

Jeff obviously hadn’t expected that kind of enthusiasm, and when he nods he put his hand out to his son to shake. “I’d like the chance to get to know the man my son has become,” he agrees, on the verge of being choked up again. “And I’ll never say no to getting to see my grandson. It sounds pretty perfect.”

Max looks at the offered hand and reaches out to shake it firmly. "That sounds good." He tells him. "But first, I need to make sure that my soulmate officially carries the Phillips last name." He jokes.

“Why don’t we catch up with our soulmates before they start making plans of their own?” His father suggests with a chuckle, knowing that Maria’s sweet disposition means it could very well happen.

"I'm glad you came." Max admits softly, frowning slightly even though he's completely happy. He's frowning so he doesn't cry, but there's a certain mistiness to his eyes.

“I’m glad, too.” On instinct, Jeff tugs gently on Max’s hand and gratefully holds onto his son once more in a strong hug. They’re both emotional, but if there was ever a time for it in their lives — this seems as appropriate a time as any to shed a few tears in each other’s presence. “I love you, Max. I’m sorry it’s not something you heard often when you were growing up.”

"Always thought I had done something wrong." Max confesses. "If I made the team, you'd love me. If I graduated with honors, you'd love me." He flashes an amused, self-deprecating grin. "If I was a ladies’ man, you'd – at least be proud of me." He snorts. "Always wondered why it was never quite enough. If I was just that much of a disappointment. So instead of talking about it, I decided being a cocky shit and show that I didn't really care what people thought of me."

“I pushed you hard because I knew you were going to do something incredible one day.” They’re both teary, standing together in that room, but it’s okay. It’s always been okay to show his son what he feels, he just didn’t know that. “Your Mom, um…she’s had me doing work on myself. I mean, we’ve been doing it together, but it’s mostly for…” He huffs, rolling his eyes at himself. “She comes to therapy with me a lot. Got plenty of shit to work out and I don’t want it to affect you anymore. And I really don’t want it to affect my grandson. So I’m…I’m working on me. I just really hope it helps. Because you were always enough, Bud. And I always loved you. I just didn’t know how to tell you that.”

"I understand." Max nods. "I've done my own bit of therapy." He doesn't mention it was back before therapy was a thing and it had been with his sire. "Dolly has insisted on it, because of her own issues and it's a good thing. To be the best version of ourselves for each other and our son."

“Do you have any names yet?” Motioning to the door, Jeff means to walk and talk if they can, trying to make the most of every second he has with Max. Of course there’s probably things to finalize before the wedding starts, but they at least have time to catch up to their soulmates.

"We were thinking Johnathan, for Dolly's grandfather and my sire." He smiles slightly. "Johnathan Jeffery Phillips." He watches his father, wondering how he would react to the middle name.

It’s instant, the way Jeff tears up all over again, and this time two thick tears escape his eyes before he can stop them. “Really?” He has to ask, wondering if his son had forgiven him long enough ago to have considered naming his son after the father who had made such an enormous mistake.

"We had long talks about it." Many hours spent talking while you laid in his arms and later when he was stroking the rounded stomach that houses his child even now. "If my son couldn't have his grandfather in his life, at least he would carry a piece of him with him." It was how you had phrased it and Max had nearly cried then too.

“Well goddamn.” Gobsmacked, Jeff wipes his hands down his face and then claps Max on the back with a sigh. “I don’t even know what to say. Except thank you.”

There's nothing else to say at the moment, so Max just nods as you and his mother come into view. "There they are." He hums, smiling at the sight of you absently stroking your stomach as you chat with Maria.

“Hey, my love.” In your wedding dress, all ready for the day, you have been telling your mother-in-law a little about the history of the house and showing her some of the older books in the library. Seeing Max’s softened expression though, you reach out to him immediately. “Everything alright?”

“It’s fine.” He loves that you worry about him, it makes him feel loved. “I was telling my dad about the name we’ve picked out for the baby.”

“Ah,” you hum, leaning over the bump between you to kiss him softly. “Hence the tears?”

“A little emotional.” Max admits shamelessly, enjoying the bump of his heart as he presses his lips to yours.

“That’s good.” You tilt your head to kiss his nose as well and wink. “It’s our wedding day after all.”

"You are amazing, you know that?" He asks softly, kissing you again. "I can't believe you did this. Thank you, my love."

“You deserve to be happy.” The gentle reminder comes with a smile, and you squeeze his hand. “And I know you missed them.”

"You know me too well." He smirks. "Almost like you've lived with me forever."

“Hmm.” Humming a little, you end up giggling instead. “Almost like.”

There’s an inside joke there somewhere, making Jeff and Maria smile awkwardly as the two of you share a moment. “Did you tell Mom?” He asks you, wanting to make sure everyone was aware of the name.

“Not yet.” You look back at his parents but shake your head. “I thought you would want to tell them.”

He flashes you a grin, knowing you are aware that he still has a love of attention, but this is truly special. “Our son is going to be named Johnathan Jeffery Phillips.” He tells Maria, rubbing your belly gently.

“Sweetheart.” His mother is nearly in tears all over again, reaching for Max with overwhelming affection just as earnestly as her other hand goes to her husband. “Is it…” her hands are occupied, but her eyes move to you. “Was Johnathan your father’s name?” She asks as gently as she can.

“It’s my grandfather’s,” you tell her, touched that she would think to ask. “We think we’ll call him JJ for short, but we wanted him to have family names.” JJ is also a sort of family name; in a way you can’t really explain. Lina’s youngest son — little JJ Astor — was sort of your spiritual godson after he wanted to start learning his magic as a young man. You mourned him as dearly as the rest of his family did after the Titanic went down, even though you knew it was coming. That didn’t stop you from missing him.

“I— it’s a beautiful name.” Maria assures you. “JJ is a proper little boy’s name and then he can decide if he wants to keep it or go by Johnathan.” She is so touched that Max would include them in the naming of his child, despite the troubles from before. It will be one of the greatest regrets of her life.

“No matter what, he’ll always be loved.” Your hand smooths the underside of your belly as JJ himself makes an appearance in the conversation, kicking happily to show his approval — or at least his enthusiasm.

Max chuckles proudly. “He’s always so active. Giving mom his opinions on everything. He seems to like his name.” He tells his parents.

“I hate to interrupt, sir. Madam.” The petite figure of your housekeeper appears in the open library doorway. Mrs. Moreau has been with you since the house was finished in 1888, a determined and intelligent middle-aged woman-turned-vampire from Louisiana that prided herself on her skills as a caretaker. “But the other guests have begun to arrive. Mr. And Mrs. Perez are asking for you.”

“Of course.” Max nods and looks towards his parents. “I would like you to stay.” He tells them. “Please? We can talk and if you haven’t booked a hotel, you are welcomed to stay here.” He glances at you for confirmation, but he’s well aware that you’ve probably already planned for such an event.

“I already asked Mrs. Moreau to make up a guest room.” Obviously you had been hopeful that this reunion would go well, but you had really asked your housekeeper to make sure a few guest rooms were ready just in case anyone over indulged at the wedding. Safety first.

“Oh, well – are you sure?” The last thing they want to do is intrude on their son on his wedding night, but they also aren’t ready to let him out of their sight for too long as well. They hadn’t booked a hotel in case he refused to see them; the heartbreak would have been too much.

“We insist.” This is the outcome you were hoping for, after all, and you’re glad to see that Max and his parents are going to be able to patch things up. However slowly it happens, the work has begun. And that’s what matters most. “We aren’t leaving for our honeymoon for another week. And we’d like very much if you stayed.” The little train ride down to Washington DC will be welcome, and you had planned to take in museums and eat good food for a week or two before coming home again and making sure you have everything you need for the baby.

Maria bites her lip and looks at Jeff, wanting this more than anything. She’s missed her son, her only baby and now she’s being given another chance. “We accept.” She tells you with a happy grin. “As long as we can help in some small way. However we can.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” You assure her, but for now you link your fingers through Max’s and smile. “We’re going to go finish getting ready. Please have a drink if you’d like and enjoy looking around a little before you take your seats in the garden. Mrs. Moreau will help you get settled.” There’s something to be said for having come into your own as a woman and a hostess in the Gilded Age, and with the help of women like your grandmother, Mrs. Astor, and Mrs. Vanderbilt. It has made you gracious and thoughtful, and very well prepared.

“Thank you again.” Jeff nods, looking at both of you as he compares the boy he had last known and the man and father-to-be that stands in front of him. “We will speak later.”

“We shouldn’t keep Eddie and Allison waiting.” A squeeze of his hand reminds Max to walk with you, and you hurry upstairs quickly to avoid being spotted by your newly arriving guests.

“Any other surprises that I need to be aware of?” Max asks with a smirk as he keeps his hand on your back, just in case.

“I talked my grandfather into cutting his toast in half.” The grin on your face is unrepentant. At the first of your weddings, Yayo’s reception toast was early forty minutes long. “Surprise.”

Laughing, Max shakes his head. “Yeah but now, we might have to have a speech from my father.”

“I’m rather looking forward to it.” At the top of the stairs, you can hear your brother and sister-in-law in your bedroom, humming over flowers and such. “I love you, Max. Forever. And I take that promise very literally.”

“I love you too.” Max stops you and cups your cheek. “You continue to surprise me, and I will never take you for granted one day during our existence.”

******

There are things about returning to Tuxedo Park that make you very nostalgic in a way that you cannot express to anyone besides Max. You came here together for Emmanuel’s funeral, supporting your grieving mother as her friends. It had been his parents’ wish to bury him here on the property, and now a large weeping beech tree oversees a small family plot on one end of the acreage. The distant cousin Max hadn’t known was buried here also, and had stored generations of family heirlooms inside the many rooms of Pullman House.

Going through these rooms is a lot of organizational work, but thankfully you can do quite a bit of it sitting at the dining room table with JJ in his Grow-With-Me chair beside you, kicking at musical keys and playing with the knobs, soft toys, and multicolored rings that the stationary play station has for his little mind to engage with. He seems to like the house well enough – although he did not like the drive here – and is currently staring and babbling happily at the far corner of the room while you look through old staff records and maintenance books kept by the superintendent.

“Hey love.” Max breezes into the room, taking on the role of handyman seriously, complete with walking about the house in flannel shirts with the sleeves rolled up and a tool belt around his hips. Not that he was really using it right now, but you seem to enjoy the view.

“Hey Daddy.” You stretch your neck to invite a kiss and he leans over obligingly as your six-month-old gurgles happily a foot away. “Are your parents back from town yet?”

“Just pulled in.” He grins and presses his lips to yours several times. “How’s my favorite girl. And my little biter?”

“He’s got a favorite spot on the wall to babble at and I’m reading through staffing records. Apparently the house got hit hard by Spanish flu and lost a few people.” You bite your lip, almost hating to say his name, but you have to. “Emmanuel’s nieces both died, and a few members of staff.”

Max sighs softly. “It feels like he should walk through the door.” He admits quietly. “Asking if we have time to check a design he had built and give our opinions.”

“Is it weird that I’ve always wished I could introduce him to my father?” The two men your mother had loved definitely had had more in common than not. Which makes sense, of course, in that your mother had a type. “I just know they would have been friends.”

“It’s not strange.” Max shakes his head. “Just like you shouldn’t feel bad for loving Emmanuel like we did. I think they would have loved each other.”

“I don’t feel bad. I mean it took some adjusting to…to realize that I miss him as my friend and he very well could have been my father.” You shrug slightly, reaching out your fingers to adjust one of JJ’s toys in his chair. “Being here just brings it all back. I’m sure if we were in the house I grew up in, I’d be thinking about my Dad instead.”

“Of course you would.” Max nods seriously. “Have you thought about my offer?” He asks softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually.” Ever since reuniting with his parents and the birth of his son, Max has been fully family oriented. He’s been endlessly helpful in every aspect of adjusting the way you live to make way for more family, and that included a very generous suggestion a week ago. “I think I’d like it very much, honestly. Bringing Mom and Dad back to Newport seems…it seems right. The family plot at Island Cemetery has plenty of room and it would be nice to not feel so disconnected from them.”

“You would be able to visit her whenever you want.” Max agrees. You’ve visited your parents’ graves a few times, but it’s too far to travel now that JJ is here. “I will have all the arrangements made.”

“Thank you, love.” A half-smile graces your lips, which grows when JJ babbles at the corner again happily. “And when we’re here, we can visit Emmanuel.”

“What is he babbling at?” Max wonders, looking over at his son with a curious pride. “It’s like he’s talking to someone.”

“I don’t know, he’s been at it the whole time I’ve—” But turning your head to actually look at the area where your son is focused makes you almost swallow your tongue. “Oh gods…”

“What?” Max’s fangs descend in a flash and he’s speeding over to JJ to whisk him into his arms. He might be a little overprotective, but this is his son.

"Emmanuel?" The ghostly figure in the corner is unmistakable, his tousled hair and immaculate clothing exactly the way he looked in life, if significantly more transparent and...somewhat more sad.

“What?” This time Max’s eyes are wide, not fearful or protective, but confused. “What do you see?” He demands again, staring at the spot where JJ has been babbling.

"I see Emmanuel," you repeat again, more carefully, seeing the figure of your old friend looking back at you. "That...that is you, isn't it?" The fact that Max can't see him makes you think it must be your and JJ's witch's blood at work, and you stand up from your chair carefully. "Can you see me, too?"

"Oh..." The shadowy memory of Emmanuel sighs quietly. "I can see you. And hear you. It's...I didn't know you could see me," he admits.

“What’s he saying? Is he talking back?” Max asks, looking back and forth between the corner and you.

"He didn't know that we could see him," you explain to Max, tears brimming in your eyes to see your old friend again. "But I—I don't understand." When you look back to the corner, Emmanuel has taken a step forward. "How long have you been here? I had no idea someone who had been a vampire could become a ghost."

Max tilts his head as you seemingly talk to thin air, but Emmanuel has to be there if you say he is. “Since I was destroyed.” He admits quietly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Max. “But you are here and— Annie? She’s your mother?”

“I suppose there’s…a bit to explain.” You glance back at Max where he is holding JJ close to his chest and bouncing your son gently in his arms. “This is when we are originally from. One of my powers is the ability to time travel, and I brought us back to your time by accident. But…yes. Annie was my mother. And the Browns were actually my grandparents.” You smile softly, almost laughing in disbelief. “And this is our son, JJ. Who apparently could see you all day today and simply couldn’t tell me.”

Emmanuel bites his lip as he stares at you. “I— I thought I was doing the right thing.” He tells you, having had decades to reflect on his mistakes.

“So did my grandfather.” Although you nod, regret sticks in your throat as though you were somehow complicit in the decision to sire your mother’s soulmate purely because you didn’t stop it. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Is that what happened?” Emmanuel asks softly, frowning fiercely as he tries to remember those last moments. There was just a fog, a hunger he had never felt before and then seeing Annie’s eyes filled with regret and pain. Realizing she had staked him. “I— I could never hurt her. She is my world.”

“I know.” Magic isn’t merciful enough to let you touch him — hug him — to offer him comfort, but at least you can give your friend some kind of reassurance. “And Mom knew that, too. That it wasn’t you, when it happened.” Maybe that’s how he ended up a ghost, instead of moving on? You can’t be sure. “No one who ever saw you together could ever doubt how much you loved each other.”

“I— oh god.” He closes his eyes, pain etched across his face. “I hurt her. I— I just wanted to live through eternity with her. To give her the world. I would have never…” Regret laces his words, fills his tone and he wishes once again, that he had never changed.

“Emmanuel…” Cutting him off softly, you find yourself reaching out a hand to him even though you know you can’t touch him. It’s just instinct. “It’s—it’s done with. And…even if you had lived on? It’s…Annie died in a car accident when I was eighteen. She was still mortal, Emmanuel. Despite having such a long life. There’s just… there’s nothing that any of us can do sometimes to prevent tragedy. I know that might not be the most comforting thing in the world, but please don’t torture yourself thinking that she’s still walking the earth in pain.”

“She’s— Annie is gone?” He chokes out, the pain of knowing his soulmate no longer exists, blooming. He had thought he couldn’t feel the crushing pain of loss as a ghost after so many years of haunting Pullman House, but apparently he could. “Dolly— I— she’s gone?”

“I’m sorry.” Maybe you should have eased into the news a little, but you had honestly thought it would be comforting to know she wasn’t in pain anymore. “It’s been almost fifteen years now.”

“Why am I still here?” Emmanuel asks, unable to ask the question to anyone else since he has shown up here to haunt the halls.

“I don’t know.” You tell him honestly. “I’ve…you’re the first ghost I’ve ever met.”

He nods and his eyes slide over to Max and JJ. “Is he—?” He asks, eyes longing as they look at the child. The child that in his mind, should be his grandchild. “Are you happy?”

It almost feels rude to tell him just how happy you really are, but there is such a small chance that knowing your family is happy and healthy might actually help him somehow — and you cannot lie to your friend. Not anymore. You’ve already kept so much from him. “Yes,” you nod, knowing that Max is right behind you with JJ in his arms and that every moment your family has together is not to be taken for granted. “We’re still very happy.”

“Good.” Emmanuel smiles and looks back at the baby again. “Your son?” He asks. “He’s bright. He saw me right away.”

“He’s six months old today.” You can’t help the immensely proud way you beam when talking about your son. JJ is your pride and joy and you absolutely will talk about him from dawn until dusk. “Seeing you is…it’s the first sign of magic he’s shown. And I’m so very glad.”

“Does he...need blood?” He asks curiously.

“Some.” And you’re grateful you had been prepared for that, otherwise it would have been a very rude awakening. “But according to Cookie, Annie stopped needing blood after she stopped growing.”

“And you?” He asks, curious as to what you experienced as a child. “Did you need blood?”

“Not that I remember.” It isn’t impossible that you were given it as a baby and simply don’t remember, but even with your memory as clear as it is you don’t recall any sippy cups of blood in your childhood. “But I do take some of Max’s now. To prolong my life.”

“That is good.” Emmanuel nods. “You deserve a long life. You were always so kind to me. Even if you obviously knew what my fate was.”

“You loved my mother.” It’s as simple as that, to you at least, and again you just desperately wish you could hug him. “And you were a wonderful friend to Max and to me. You deserve as much kindness as every other good person in the world. I’m just…I’m very glad that I could be one of the people you find it in.”

“I am sorry.” Emmanuel murmurs softly. “For all the pain I cause your mother.” He’s had plenty of time to regret his change and now that he knows that he had hurt her, he is even more so.

“I wish it didn’t torture you the way it does.” It’s a sort of vain hope…or least a far-fetched one, but it is honest. “We are all of us only human, after all. Even witches and even vampires. We still make all the same mistakes and have all the same feelings.”

“I just hope that she was happy.” Emmanuel confesses. “After my time with her had ended.”

“In my memories of her, she was very happy.” It would be cruel to harp on the fact that your father was a good man and a good partner for her, and you won’t mention him at all, but you do smile reflexively. “Life when I was growing up was simple, and quiet, and happy. I can promise you that.”

“Good.” He smiles, nodding at the imagery you are producing. “That is all I can ask for.”

“You should know.” Stepping away from the topic of your mother or his regret for a moment is the gentlest thing you can think of in this moment. “Max and I…we’re helping his parents restore this house. They own it now. So we’ll be here, in and out, from now on.”

“Truly?” His eyes light up, delighted to maybe have company at some points during his existence as a ghost. “Would you— perhaps we could talk more? Not always, but some moments when you have time?”

“Of course we can talk more. And as JJ gets older, he’ll be able to talk to you, too.” His joy makes your heart ache, just like the very idea that you might not want to talk to him is absurd. “We’ve missed you, Emmanuel. Very much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He promises with a small, sardonic smirk. “Although it’s amusing that Max cannot see me.”

“We’ll have to talk about him while he’s in the room,” you tease, throwing a grin back at your soulmate. “It will drive him crazy.”

“Don’t you dare talk about me.” Max huffs, frowning fiercely at the idea.

"Love you, babe." A grin over your shoulder tells him you're only teasing.

Max huffs and rolls his eyes. “Keep it up and I’ll start calling you ‘Manny’.” He threatens his old friend, not meaning a word of it.

“You’ll do that anyway,” Emmanuel replies, knowing his friend can’t hear him but enjoying the comfort that you can. You’re the first person to ever see him and actually hear what he says and it’s more comforting than he can possibly say.

“He says you’ll do that anyway,” you pass the message along with a grin.

Max tries to look innocent but fails miserably when he grins. “True.” He snorts and steps closer to the corner with the baby in his arms. “I can’t see you, but I’m glad that you’re— not gone.” He settles for that and shrugs. “I don’t know what to call it, but I’ve missed our billiards games.”

“It’s hard to play billiards without a body,” Emmanuel chuckles. “But maybe your wife will be kind enough to help us play chess.”

“He says I should help you play chess.” Translating between them makes you smile. Something you never expected but it warms your heart. “And I happily agree.”

“We will have to do it.” Max nods and gives a small chuckle. “No cheating though. I know you.”

That makes you snicker, but you hold up both hands in innocence. “I promise I won’t help him cheat,” you vow, wiggling your fingers in his direction. “Now, can I hold our son, please?”

“Sure.” Now that there’s no danger, Max has no problem handing over JJ to you. The boy goes easily, babbling happily and pointing at the corner.

"Sweetheart, I want you to meet somebody." Cooing to your son, you press a kiss to JJ's forehead and carry him a little closer to where Emmanuel is standing, past the table and past the chairs you had been sitting on all day. "This is Uncle Emmanuel." How much of what you're telling him is actually sinking into his curious little mind, you can't be sure. At six months old, he's definitely not piecing together a family tree in his mind. "He lives here, so we're going to be very nice to his house, okay Bud?" Picking up his little hand in yours, you grin when your son giggles approvingly. "Wave hi, Bud! Hi Uncle Emmanuel!"

JJ has learned to wave and he throws his entire body into it. Babbling and gurgling with a giant grin on his face as he damn near wiggles out of your arms.

If Emmanuel could still cry, he would have tears in his eyes. But as it is, the emotion sticking in his throat gives him away. “He is a blessing.” He manages to say, regarding the little boy in your arms.

“Yes.” You will agree to that every time, and never contest it for even a moment. “He absolutely is.”

******

Despite it being over 100 years of you sleeping beside him while he stays awake, Max doesn’t leave the bed. Too content to hold you as your breathing is nice and slow. Unless JJ is fussy and then he leaves you sleeping to handle the baby. He slips out of the bed as you groan and turn over to hug his pillow.

Your dreams have gotten slightly stranger since starting to take Max’s blood — the strangest were during pregnancy, but thank the gods that’s over — but it wouldn’t be uncommon to dream of magic or anthropomorphic anything or even create entire other universes in your mind. That makes this dream, as Max slips out of bed to rock your fussy son in his arms, all the more remarkable for being normal. Just a dream of your grandparents and parents sitting around a table playing cards like nothing had ever happened between them.

Your grandfather is the first to notice you, turning and smiling at you, just like he had your entire childhood when he visited you in your dreams. “Muñeca, you have come.” He stands and waves you over to the group.

“Yayo?” It isn’t the first time you’ve dreamt of your grandfather since he left this life, but it feels so much more real. “Am I late?”

He shakes his head and moves to gather you into a hug. “You are just on time. Come. There are others who have waited so long to see you again.”

You can see your family in the room, but at your grandfather’s bidding it’s like a veil lifts and you step further into the dining room at Chateau-sur-Mer to see your parents beaming at you as your abuela starts to deal you into their card game.

“Come sit with us.” Cookie hums in delight. “It has been so long since I have talked to you, my darling.”

“Are you…” Aware of your grandfather’s power, you don’t hesitate to go to the table, but you do look back at him before reaching out to hug your grandmother. “Are you all really here?” You ask, already choked up at the idea of it.

“After death, hard feelings are not nearly as important as family.” Annie admits, reaching out and taking your hand when you sit down. “I have so much to apologize for, sweetheart. So much.”

“You did what you thought was right, Mom.” Being able to see her again — touch her — call her Mom instead of Annie? It’s such a gift. It’s more than you ever dared to ask for, even knowing what is possible in the world. On her other side, though, you fly out of your chair to go to your father. It’s been the longest since you saw him, let alone spoke to him, because talking to the photos on your vanity at home don’t count as much.

“Hey pumpkin.” The fact that you are grown makes no difference as your father folds you into his arms and pulls you onto his lap for a hug like you are still six years old. “I have missed you so much. Been watching over you.”

“I miss you, Dad.” Such easy words to say, even as they shake through you, and you cling to him for a hug. “I miss all of you, but…gods I’m so sorry I didn’t come to see you when I was in the past. I was terrified of changing the timeline.”

“Honey, we understand.” Your father reassures you, kissing your forehead like he would have when comforting you from a bad dream. “I am just glad you got to see your mother. Your grandparents.” He pulls back and smiles at you. “Now you get to see me.”

“I wish you could’ve met Max.” Looking up and casting your eyes around the table, you soften again. “And JJ. Yayo is the only one who got to meet JJ, and you would all love him so much.”

“We’ve met JJ.” Your father admits with a smile. “Dreams, just like now, with you.”

“You can…with JJ?” It shouldn’t surprise you, not after last week’s revelation that your six-month-old can already see ghosts, but you smile in relief. “Good. I’m glad he’ll get to dream of his family.”

“We won’t monopolize his dreams.” Cookie promises. “Just drop in from time to time.”

“How are you still able to visit us?” This question is for Yayo, who is quietly looking through his hand off cards with a small smile. “If you…passed on? How do you still have your powers?”

“We are waiting.” Yayo tells you simply. “For Emmanuel.”

“Then I think you might be waiting for a while,” you tell him, guilt creeping into your voice as you look around the table. “He’s…he didn’t cross over. We’re at Pullman House right now. And he’s still here.”

“He has to forgive himself first.” Annie murmurs, looking sadly over at your father and then at you. “But he will. And then we will all be together.”

"He's heartbroken that he hurt you." It's so important for your mother to know this. To completely wrap her head around it, even if you understand that she probably forgave him long ago. "He barely even remembers when it happened. We've...talked through it. Extensively." Call it Ghost Therapy, but you had been hoping that trying to remember might somehow help him move on.

“Tell him that I— we— are waiting for him.” Annie requests, looking over at her husband, your father, and smiling. “Your father is looking forward to knowing the man that I loved before him. That I still love.”

“I…always thought you would be such good friends if you could meet.” It feels odd to admit it to your father, but it’s honest. It’s how you’ve felt since very early on after meeting Emmanuel.

“I know we would be.” Your father chuckles and looks at Annie lovingly. “She has told me about her soulmate.”

“Did they…tell you about Max, too?” It might be selfish, to wonder if they’ve talked about you and your happiness — but this is your family. Your parents and grandparents. In your heart your hope they’re at least happy for you.

“Absolutely.” He assures you with a proud smile. “I’ve watched how he cares for you, loves you.” He bites his lip. “He’s the kind of man I always hoped you would be with.”

“I wish you could visit him, too.” You admit, smiling softly. “But he doesn’t dream. Or sleep, really.”

“Yes, he’s too busy watching over his family.” Your grandmother hums in approval.

“You made a good choice, Yayo.” Of that, you can assure him. “Eddie and Allison are doing so well.”

“They are, aren’t they?” He smiles the satisfied little smirk of contentment before he picks up Cookie’s hand and kisses the back of it. “They are made for it, so I have cashed in one last favor from the devil.”

“Oh?” To hear that he had any left at all is a surprise, and you sit up at the table.

“Yes.” He hums, arching his brow and letting the moment sit just a touch longer for the dramatic effect. “They will walk the earth for eternity as soulmates.”

“Yayo.” The well of tears behind your eyes is instant, tears spilling over onto your cheeks as you think of how much that will mean to them. “You—they’ll be ecstatic,” you sniffle, wiping away the dripping tears.

“I thought they would like my last gift to them.” He nods, and holds up a finger. “But tell them that they should still treat every day as if they have just discovered each other.”

“I promise I’ll tell them.” Is it possible they don’t know yet? That it hasn’t happened? You’re certain that Allison would have called if she and Eddie had suddenly gained each other’s marks on any random afternoon. “And…” you look to your mother but have to wipe tears away all over again. “I’ll talk to Emmanuel. To tell him it’s time to finally forgive himself. Because you forgave him a long time ago.”

“I wish for him to enjoy this eternity with us.” Annie adds, nodding happily that you understand and there seems to be no hard feelings.

“I’ll tell him,” you promise again. For all the lifetimes that you knew your mother — whether she was your mother or your friend Annie — you have been able to love her through all of them. It’s oddly gratifying that you’ll be able to send her soulmate to her now. So that she can be loved all the more.

“Thank you, love.” Annie beams at you. “I am so grateful that you came back to visit during my youth. That I know you as the woman you are as well as my baby girl.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you while we were there.” It would have been too much. Too complicated and too risky. But at least you had been able to know your mother for many more years.

“Oh sweetheart, I understand.” Your mother shakes her head and gives you a sad smile. “It would have changed things if I had known. And while I wish that I had not made mistakes, I did. I just hope you can forgive me for them.”

“I don’t think there’s a single person at this table who hasn’t tried a little too hard to protect the people they love.” Too much pressure, spellbinding, and accidental time travel all seem to be varying levels of the same misguided leaps into protection. It seems to be a family trait. “I understand why you did it. I’d do anything to protect JJ, too.”

“Just don’t repeat the mistakes we have made.” Yayo cautions you wisely. “Learn from our follies so you can make all new mistakes.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. The idea of all new mistakes being both daunting and very realistic. “I’m sure we will. That’s parenthood, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.” All of the adults chuckle, well aware of their own parental mistakes and your father strokes your back gently. “You are a good mother. You will be for all the children to come.”

“I hope it will be several,” you admit with a grin. “I’m really enjoying motherhood.”

“It will be.” Yayo confirms with a knowing smirk. He has his ways of knowing that his family will be happy and healthy for generations to come.

******

The sun rises right into your bedroom window at Pullman House, bringing you out of your dream gently but without question. The baby monitor is gone from the nightstand on your side of the bed and your husband is nowhere in sight, so he must have gotten up with JJ in the night to make sure you could sleep. Sometimes he’s fussy for blood and sometimes for a bottle, but either way Max is able to take care of him.

They’re sitting together, father and son, at the table in the breakfast room when you come downstairs in your favourite old t-shirt and jeans after taking a steaming hot shower. Any chance to actually take a lengthy shower and feel human again is not something to be undervalued as a new mom, you have found.

JJ squeals happily at the sight of you and you sweep into the room to scoop him up out of his seat. “Hey Bud,” you croon, kissing his little forehead before leaning over to kiss Max as well. “Were you good for Daddy this morning?”

“Say ‘of course I was, Mommy’.” Max answers for him. “Nothing short of perfect, my son.” He winks at you playfully. “Takes after his father.”

“Mmhmm.” Even if you smirk skeptically, it’s full of nothing but love. “So that means he wanted blood last night, then?”

“So much that I’ve been thinking of creating a ‘Little Biters’ line of baby products.” He snorts jokingly. “The mascot of the line will be Cutie.”

“Mommy’s little menace,” you tease, placing another kiss on JJ’s head before moving around the kitchen to pour yourself a bowl of cereal. “I…had a dream last night.” Looking back over your shoulder, you shoot Max a meaningful look. “A family dream.”

“Really?” Max straightens up and his brow furrows slightly. He’s curious at the timing, especially since Emmanuel’s appearance. “What was it about?”

“Yayo had some messages to deliver.” Your grandfather’s mastery of the dramatic never ends. “I played cards with my grandparents and my parents and we talked.”

“Bridge?” Max asks, having spent many hours playing with your mother and grandmother back in the day.

“Of course.” The smirk on your face is because you got very good at the game over the decades. To the point where you were almost better than your abuela. “Dad and I switched out. Apparently he never quite mastered it the way you did.”

“Was this….a visit? Or a dream?” He asks seriously, knowing that stranger things are possible. He’s currently feeding one of them.

“It was a visit.” The distinct, you grant him, is important. “Apparently Yayo still has a little pull where it matters. Don’t I think this will be the last one.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head affectionately. “Of course the old bastard does.” He huffs.

“They told me they’re waiting.” The reality of it feels heavy, weighing on your shoulders like Atlas balancing the world. “They haven’t crossed over yet because they don’t want to leave Emmanuel behind.”

“That’s…sweet.” Max admits, his expression soft and yearning. He has been a little put out that he can’t see his old friend, but you have been enjoying talking to him. “Very sweet.”

"You know the old chestnut about ghosts having unfinished business?" With a bowl of cereal now in hand and enough milk to satisfy you, you sit down at the table with Max and set JJ back down in his own seat. "Mom says Emmanuel has to forgive himself so he can move on."

“Yeah?” Max shakes his head. “How are you going to convince him to do that?” He asks. “Although, telling him that Annie is waiting for him is a good start.”

"Hopefully being able to tell him directly from Mom that she has already forgiven him will give him the permission he feels like he needs to forgive himself." It's your best theory, anyway, and the fact that your friend has been so tortured over what happened for more than a century grieves you in a way you didn't know what possible. "Dad wants to meet him. Wants to wait for him, too. It’s...actually incredibly sweet."

“I told you it was.” He huffs at you playfully, reaching out and taking your hand. “Were you happy to see all of them together? Especially your dad? Since you didn’t get more time with him?”

"It was really nice to see Dad." To see him, to hug him, even if it was only in your dream. Dreams in your family have always been a little more intense anyway – but visitations are step above and beyond. "I think..." You glance up at your soulmate with a little grin. "Maybe we name the next little boy after him?"

“Next little boy?” Max perks up, considering you haven’t really talked about having more kids, and you had cursed him blue while in labor with JJ.

"I'm not saying giving birth was my favorite leisure day or anything." You snort at the idea, letting yourself enjoy a bite of your breakfast while you chuckle silently over the very idea. "But Yayo heavily implied a little insight into the timeline, and the fact that JJ will have at least a couple of siblings at some point."

“Can we start making them now?” Max asks, waggling his brows at you suggestively.

Shoving Max's arm playfully at the table, you make a soft if slightly non-committal noise at him and have another bite of your breakfast. You haven't been intimate since JJ was born and that's the longest you've gone in your entire relationship, but the doctor had been adamant that you needed time to heal and Max had agreed to follow medical advice without hesitation. "Let's see what the doc says when we get back to Newport," you tell him, that beaming grin overtaking your face again. "It took a hundred years to get JJ. Who knows how long we'll have to wait for the next?"

“That’s a hell of an age gap.” Max snorts, imagining JJ as a grandfather and becoming a big brother at the same time.

"It would be," you agree, laughing almost to yourself in silent little huffs. "Hopefully it won't take as long next time."

“Whenever you’re ready.” Max insists. He had even suggested wearing condoms when you were ready to have sex again.

"I love you." As many children as you many or may not have, as many different houses as you may live in, and as many decades or centuries as will ever pass between you -- this is the thing that holds it all together. The fuel that keeps your life going is right here at this table. And you can't help but be caught up in it a little when he slides his hand into yours and smiles. "Come on," you urge, pushing your cereal bowl away and nodding toward the belly of the house. "Come dance with me." It wouldn't be the first time he's twirled you around the dance floor at eight in the morning and you're sure it won't be the last, because the two of you never seem to tire of the waltz.

______

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 @madnessofadaydreamer

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

My Masterlist!

[psalmonesermons]

Lessons from Galatians Part 3a

Ch 3 :1-18 Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law

3:1 You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? Before your very eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed as crucified.

They had heard the one true Gospel, that Jesus Christ had been crucified for the sin of humankind, he died and was resurrected to the right hand of the Father, and everyone who believes in Him, shall be saved by faith in Him.

2 I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard?

This is a rhetorical question, we receive the Spirit by believing of course.

3 Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?

4 Have you suffered so much for nothing--if it really was for nothing?

Usually it is only the true gospel that gets persecuted.

5 Does God give you his Spirit and work miracles among you because you observe the law, or because you believe what you heard?

When the dynamic of the Holy Spirit came to them, by faith, how could they even consider going back to a dead religion, Surely, they could see that the manifestations of the Holy Spirit, occur where there is faith, but not where there is observance of the Law.

Paul, now, takes them back to first principles.

6 Consider Abraham: "He believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness."

Abraham never observed the Law.

7 Understand, then, that those who believe are children of Abraham.

The believers followed his example.

8 The Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: "All nations will be blessed through you."

9 So those who have faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith.

This is very Good News.

Shocking news.

10 All who rely on observing the law are under a curse, for it is written: "Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law."

These curses include poverty, sickness, famine, want, shortage, confusion, defeat, terror, darkness, despair, and separation etc.; see all these curses in Deuteronomy 28.

11 Clearly no one is justified before God by the law, because "The righteous will live by faith."

12 The law is not based on faith; on the contrary,

"The man who does these things will live by them.” The Law only offers life to those who completely obey it.

13 Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: "Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree."

Jesus took it all on the cross that all believers might go free and receive the blessings of God not his curses.

14 He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that by faith we might receive the promise of the Spirit.

This is the greatest blessing.

15 Brothers, let me take an example from everyday life. Just as no one can set aside or add to a human covenant that has been duly established, so it is in this case.

16 The promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed. The Scripture does not say "and to seeds," meaning many people, but "and to your seed," meaning one person, who is Christ.

17 What I mean is this: The law, introduced 430 years later, does not set aside the covenant previously established by God and thus do away with the promise.

18 For if the inheritance depends on the law, then it no longer depends on a promise; but God in his grace gave it to Abraham through a promise.

v15-18 A covenant is a solemn and binding agreement in which two parties exchange vows or promises committing themselves to a joint relationship or venture.

There may be penalties involved for breach of promise.

What types of covenants do we enact in everyday life?

Marriage and business contracts (mortgages etc.).

So many marriages break up because people want to add new clauses to the deal or the vows that they made. For instance, to have and to hold until you get sick , or get made redundant, or until you meet someone else whom you prefer to your spouse, or until your lack of commitment , selfishness and self pity overwhelm you to the extent that you that you break the marriage covenant.

Many business contracts now include penalty clauses to compensate for breach of contract. No sensible business deal will allow you to change the terms after the deal has been struck.

In the same way God does not let anyone alter the conditions of his promise to Abraham fulfilled through his seed Jesus Christ, and passes through Jesus to us , to be changed nothing can be added or subtracted from the deal.

Because we live in new testament times, we sometimes forget that the law came 430 years after God’s promise to Abraham and Paul is saying here that the law cannot alter the original covenant, deal, or promise.

What was the promise?

God's announcement of His plan of salvation and blessing to His people, one of the themes integrating the message of the Old and New Testaments. God's promise begins with a declaration by God; it covers God's plan for not just one race, but all the nations of the earth; and it focuses on the gifts and deeds that God will bestow on a few to benefit the many.

Summary 3:1-18

We may define God's promise this way: the divine declaration or assurance was made to Abraham representing the whole nation of Israel and specified that:

(1) He would be their God,

(2) They would be His people,

(3) He would dwell in their midst.

Amen

Your prayer

[chosenkeepersworld]

The Curses We Inherit - Chapter 14

Original Work

Date Posted: December 30, 2021 (Tumblr)

Word count: 1,003 words

A/N: I hope everyone is doing well and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Masterlist / Part 13

"Is this really the best idea?" Liam swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing himself deeper into the backseat of Krysanthe's truck.

"Oh please, she's doing so well" Krysanthe waved her hand dismissively as Danika shifted gears then stepped on the wrong pedal causing the truck to lurch forward then stop. The blonde shifted gears again and the truck ran smoothly, Danika let out a sheepish laugh while Krysa turned to Liam and shrugged "She'll get better"

They were getting close to the biggest town on the island, just in time for the auction that would be happening later tonight. Everything was set and now all they had to do was get there. But as they got closer to their destination the heiress tightened her grip on the wheel, she became more and more anxious as all sorts of scenarios ran through her head. Krysa placed her hand on her friend's shoulder "Are you alright?" she asked.

Danika nodded "Yeah, just nervous. I hope everything goes well tonight"

"The sooner we get this necklace the sooner we get Danika safely back home" Liam said, keeping his gaze out the window.

Krysanthe turned and frowned at him but Danika was the one who spoke up, confusion evident in her voice "Nothing's happened to me since I left home. No one even knows who I am here, only that I'm aunt Aileen's niece"

A light flush slowly came on Liam's cheeks "I'm glad to hear that" he stammered "But don't you miss home?"

The car was silent and for a while Liam didn't think the heiress would answer him but when she did it was in a soft and thoughtful voice.

"Of course I miss home. I actually miss my daily schedule, I miss the comforts of home and I miss being surrounded by familiarity" she told him "But going on this trip has helped me in a lot of ways. I'm learning a lot"

Liam raised an eyebrow.

"I'm learning how to drive right now, aren't I?"

"That won't be enough," Liam told her.

"But it's a start!" Danika argued "I've learned more things here than I ever would at home, it may not seem much because you know how to do these things! For the first time in my life I get to decide how I want to live, I can get to experience things other people do and you have no idea how fulfilling it feels to make my own accomplishments"

The dark haired man crossed his arms and sighed "I get it. I never really had to work for much when I was running the family business, someone would always do majority of the work and I never truly understood" he lifted his head "It wasn't until I started working with your cousin that I finally got it"

"I'm sorry, I understand why you needed to do this but I'm not sorry I'm concerned. So if there's any danger, Danika, you should understand if Foalan and I will need to do something to ensure that safety."

Danika sighed "I know and I understand. You guys do what you have to do but fair warning" she took a quick glance at him "so will I"

"I wouldn't expect any less from Nika the Great," he chuckled.

The heiress froze. "What did you say?"

"Okay I think this is when we stop the lesson" Krysa softly interjected then instructed Danika to park the truck which the younger blonde was able to do but needed improvement on. The car behind them slowed and the window rolled down to reveal Jacqueline in the driver's seat "Everything good?" she asked

"Yeah, just switching places. I was giving Danika a driving lesson but I needed to take the wheel back now."

"Why, what did she do ?" Jac snorted "have a messy dashboard?"

Krysa rolled her eyes "Just drive ahead, Jacqueline. We'll follow"

"Fine, fine. In case we get there before you do, what do I say to the front desk officer again?"

The older blonde sighed "Is Foalan awake?"

Jac glanced back for a moment "No, totally asleep"

"Just text me when you get there or let Folan check us in," Krysanthe said with a tired smile.

"Gotcha. Safe driving, Krys" and with that Jac rolled up her window and drove off.

Danika and Krysanthe buckled in once they were able to change seats and followed after Jacqueline and Foalan. Once the car began moving, Danika quickly turned in her seat "How did you know that name?"

Liam sat straight in his seat, side eyeing the windows before finally looking at Danika. "I wasn't completely honest with you about meeting Foalan. I knew him when we were kids, my family and I were visiting the states at the time and that's when I met your cousin. I'd visit his house and we'd spend a lot of time together"

"That's weird I don't remember seeing you there, Alan would always have his friend there. The skinny kid, with glasses and he brought candy..." Danika trailed off as the realization slowly came to her. The blonde American gasped "Oh my god, you're Donny Alvern"

Liam winced and waved his arm "No one calls me that anymore"

"Wait, what?" Krysa asked, glancing back for a second.

"Is Liam your first or your second name?" Danika asked, her body shaking slightly

"That isn't important. But yeah I was that kid"

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't know, I just felt weird after seeing you again after a long time" Liam said lamely.

"Well. it's good now. And I'm really glad to see-" Danika froze, there was a terrible itch at the back of her neck. The heiress sat back, scratching the spot furiously.

Krysa turned her to Danika to ask her if she was alright when a deer jumped on the road.

"Deer!"

Krysa and Danika turned their attention to the road and the world slowed. Krysanthe turned the wheel, the car swerved then everything went black.

Taglist: @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @woodhousejay @dustylovelyrun

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[levisbyjean]

Why Jean Kirstein is the best character in SnK: An essay w/ references/RECEIPTS

(This essay spans from the beginning of the story up to the current chapter 117 of the manga. Also, almost 90% of the quotes I use here are from the manga; not the anime)

Jean was introduced as a selfish snob, who was born into luxury and raised with class. His plan was to join the military police and live in the safety of the interior, far away from any titans or danger. And from the very beginning, Jean was—and has remained—an honest person. Keep that in mind.

During the 104th scouts training, which is also where Jean and Eren first met, Eren says he plans to wipe every single Titan off the face of the planet, & Jean just laughs. Eren says he must be the guy who plans to live a laid back life in the military police. In the anime, Jean’s reply is “I’m no liar. I’m a straight-talker, unlike someone who pretends to have balls of steel, even when he’s about to piss himself.” Similar to the manga version, where he says “I’m nothing, if not honest.” [vol. 4 ch. 15] And he is true to this statement.

Jean’s mentality towards joining the military police does not change until the battle in Trost district, where he encounters titans for the first time. The main characters, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, (I’ll be referring to that trio as EMA throughout this essay) have already been exposed to the horrors of the titans. EMA have already been traumatized because they were kids when they first saw the titans face to face. However Jean is a teenager and also fresh out of the academy. He barely knows how to use his EDM gear and now he is expected to face those monsters, not run, because that’s what he trained for.

When the rest of his squad is trying to think of what to do, Jean says “it was a boring life. But I guess if it’s gonna end like this, I might as well say let’s do it everyone! Come on! Up on your feet!” [vol. 2 ch. 7] & he actually was the first one to have a positive attitude when everyone else was preparing for death. That was the first moment where I really enjoyed his personality. Thats pure courage and strength in itself right there. Continuing on the positive-Jean train, when Mikasa is the first to run off to face the titans, Jean yells to the rest of the people who didn’t step forward “were we taught to let one of our own fight alone? All of you really will make cowards of yourselves” and runs after her, followed by the rest of the brave 104th cadets (the Jeanmika/Jeankasa ship is SAILING)

As the battle continues, he watches his comrades get killed in front of him, but instead of running, he LEADS everyone to safety. He assumes the role of leader ON HIS OWN, maybe before he even realized it. I want to note this first pivotal point in his thought process. He uses his other comrades sacrifices to lead the others to safety. To put it into other words, he sees his classmates getting eaten all around him but he doesn’t break down or run away to save himself. Instead, he quickly analyzes the scene unfolding in front of him and orders everyone to charge for HQ while the titans are occupied (eating his comrades) [vol. 2 ch. 8]. Granted, once they make it to safety, he later feels the guilt, saying “how many died on my signal?” You can see it on his face that this decision weighed heavily on his conscience.

After finally breaking down and losing his cool, he realizes that this was real life. His dreams of living in peace were crushed at the sight of reality finally setting in. He wanted a long life and a family but now it all seemed over with. His perspectives had changed, and when he almost lost all hope, it was Marco that brought him back. His friendship with Marco is probably the first—and probably the biggest—factor in his character change.

Marco tells Jean that he thinks he would make a better leader than himself because Jean isn’t a strong person so he can relate to weak peoples feelings. He knows what’s going on around him at all times, knows exactly what needs to be done [vol. 4 ch. 18]. At first Jean is offended at this, but when he is watching the bodies of his comrades burn, he then accepts that Marco was right. If Jean had never become a soldier, he would never have had to worry about people dying, it never would have crossed his mind.

Mentally-strong characters like EMA have it natural to want to fight and be brave. But what I respect about Jean is his honesty to say he is scared. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to face titans. However, even though he doesn’t want to die and he’s afraid, he knows what must be done. There are people who are ignorant of the terrors of the titans, just like he used to be. But he knows now that it’s reality. After Erwin’s speech, Jean has a moment to choose to either leave or stay, and if he had chosen to leave, he would’ve “hated himself more than he already did”. And so he chose to join the survey corps so that he could fight for those weaker people. I respect that he isn’t hotheaded like Eren, saying he wants to kill every last titan out of revenge. But he wants to protect people, the defenseless people who have the safe life he used to dream about. He knows trauma now, and instead of let it tear him down and run for the hills, he chose to use that fear to protect people. SELFLESSSSSSS KINGGGGGGG.

The next pivotal point in his character development was when he joined Squad Levi. Being faced with titans and killing them was one thing. But in the Retaking of Shinganshina arc (aka season 2 of the anime), they were now fighting humans. Jean is almost shot and killed by an enemy MP, but Armin saves him by killing her, which ended up scarring Armin for a good while [vol. 14 ch. 58]. Realizing that he freaked out and panicked, Jean promises to never let that happen again and apologizes to Levi for letting him down by almost becoming a casualty, but he also apologizes to Armin (I also ship Jearmin like HELLA)

After this, Jean has multiple leadership moments where he saves and protects others. When they’re pursuing the female titan, he backs up Armin and Reiner and tells them to stay focused and to keep a distance [vol. 6 ch. 23]. When Sasha shoots an arrow that got too close to Mikasa, he scolds her for almost shooting her (this was more so because of his undying crush on Mikasa but I still wanted to throw that scene in considering the anime bastards took it out and it was beautiful) [vol. 13 Ch. 54]. He’s also covered for his teammates a numerous amount of times and has never panicked in a crisis because he keeps a level head during times of trouble.

He is an excellent leader and it’s even proven after the time skip, when he becomes commanding officer of his own team!!! [vol. 26 ch. 105] (OUR FRIENDS ACCOMPLISHMENTS ARE ALSO OUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS) He tells them to keep civilian casualties to a minimum as their primary focuses are the Marleyan government and Eren, not the civilians. Jean also doesn’t let personal feelings get in the way of carrying out a mission. So when the squad was about to kill Pieck, after firing off a thunder spear and it backfiring, he ordered his team to fall back because it wasn’t worth their deaths if it wasn’t part of the mission at hand [vol. 26 ch. 104]. (He also proved this when, even though he’s stated countless times how much he hates Eren, he still protects him in battle because he knows Eren is an important figure to saving humanity). The last piece of evidence of this fact is after Gabi and Falco stow away on the airship, and Gabi shoots Sasha dead, the crew asks Jean if they should throw the kids out of the plane, to which he just replies “is throwing some kids out of an airship really going to stop all of this bloodshed?” This part really hurt me, not only because of Sasha’s death, but because even though Jean was in pain after witnessing one of his best friends die right in front of him, he didn’t lash out. He couldn’t. His composure and facial expressions gave off that he was angry and distraught, but he didn’t let that get the best of him. Killing those kids wouldn’t have brought her back and it’s that maturity to not avenge the murderer of his friend that hurt. Again, KEEPS A LEVEL HEAD IN TIMES OF TROUBLE. [vol. 26 ch. 105] (I would post screen caps of the emotional facial expressions from that chapter but there are just too many, so read it for yourself to feel the pain. Instead, here’s this cute picture of my favorite AOT trio).

Jean has also noted his care and affection for his friends before. Shortly before the attack on Marley, the team is having a discussion on who should inherit Eren’s attack Titan, and Jean is super quick to shoot down Mikasa’s offer because he cares about her. & instead suggests himself as a candidate. However, Eren rejects it, along with Sasha and Connie’s proposals, stating he doesn’t want to give it to any of them because they are all important to him and he wants them to live long lives (.....okay this note is mainly about Eren’s sweet and soft heart more so than it is about Jean, I just wanted to throw it in because I don’t think Eren is the heartless, emotionless bastard that he makes himself out to be after the time skip) [vol. 27 ch. 108] But in all seriousness, Jean’s heart does show when he is talking to Mikasa and Connie after Eren‘s suspicious & traitorous actions. Because of how much Eren and Jean didn’t like each other, you’d think Jean would get angry that Eren cursed out Mikasa, aka his dream guuuuurl. But instead he disagrees with Connie on his loyalty and says “I don’t think he’d do something like that without any reason. Somehow, aren’t his real intentions somewhere in there?” [vol. 29 ch. 116] Remember, Jean is an honest person—almost to a fault—so you know he really believes that and isn’t just trying to cheer up Mikasa. Aw we love a loyal sister *cue applause*

Anyways, I could go on for days fawning over this man, but I’m sure you’re all as exhausted from reading this as I am from writing it. SO. In conclusion, Jean Kirstein was a snotty ass bitch in the beginning because he had no reason to believe his perfect life would ever change, until it did. And instead of go on to live a selfish lifestyle, he chose to protect people and lead them because he didn’t want anyone else to go through what he and his friends did, and he did not want to let anyone down who believed in him, thanks to Marco for opening his eyes first. He isn’t arrogant, he doesn’t think he is a god. He accepts his mediocrity & doesn’t try to get on a higher level than anyone else. He’s fucked up before, has made many, many mistakes, and he lives by his choices and decisions even if they come back to haunt him. He is just an average human being, there is nothing special about him. But he is honest and he is caring. He may be a hardheaded, stubborn individual, but he will go to the ends of the earth to protect his comrades and the people he loves.

P.S (This essay also doubles up as an argument explaining why Jean deserves to become the next commander of the survey corps, after Hanji. I believe wholeheartedly that he will lead the survey corps as passionately as Erwin did 💔)

P.P.S (It’s also no surprise that the creator of the Shingeki no Kyojin series, Hajime Isayama, has admitted before that his favorite character is Jean. HE’S THE MANGAKA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, so I trust his opinion, too. Hehee)

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA Fic: Blink! Ch. 15

Read Ch. 14 | Masterlist

SPOILER ALERT: More character development time!

Warnings: Bullying theme, mild violence. 

Full backstory time with Ren! There’s not much S4 spoiler stuff here.

The six first years unceremoniously filed in and stood around as Ren gently closed her door to her room. Their attention was briefly distracted by the box in the middle of the floor.

“Senpai, what’s this?” Uraraka asked, eyeing the packed item.

“Something to show later. Please, sit,” she requested. Spacing was a little cramped but they all managed to give one another enough room to move about. Ren settled in between Asui and Kirishima, inhaled a deep breath and hovered her palm over her chest.

“I just… need a moment,” she mumbled out. “Nerves.”

“Take all the time you need,” Kirishima consoled with kind red eyes looking her way.

Another short beat of silence went by, her uneasiness settled little by little.

“This goes without saying, but I’m telling you all this in confidence,” Ren affirmed with seriousness. “So whatever’s been said here stays here. You’re in my circle of trust now.”

The group nodded solemnly before she continued.

“As I told you some of you before, Chisaki Kai killed my dad and brother when I was eight while I was still living in California...” she reiterated. Bakugou and Todoroki’s faces showed surprise when hearing that statement. “He found out my dad was a double agent working for the U.S. and Japanese government.”

“So your name–” Todoroki unconsciously blurted out, already knowing what she was going to say. Ren looked up at the group with clear eyes.

“My name before I moved to Japan was Remy Hayes-Takahiro,” she exposed. “My dad was Takahiro Rennosuke.”

“Takahiro Rennosuke?” Midoriya questioned. “He doesn’t sound familiar at all.”

“That’s because the government here and in America redacted all the documents pertaining it,” she revealed. “Including our hyphenated family name. He wasn’t a well-known hero, per se, and was more of a government agent who had a great reputation with his codename, Spectre.”

“But why would they do that?” Kirishima asked.

“The case he was working on was tracking leads on quirk-boosters and find out what he could on the rumored quirk nullifiers. His objective was to build a relationship with a high-profile buyer and seller; like a middleman of sorts,” she explained. “The goal was to uproot them and shut down the entire chain. I’m sure he’s even worked with FatGum at one point. There were only a handful of people on his team who were aware of this sting and wasn’t on any official documents.”

“It was a black operation then,” Bakugou summarized. “If anyone caught wind of it, lots of people’s lives would be compromised.”

“Exactly.” She took a short breath before continuing. “Not long after the op started, he’d been put in contact with Chisaki Kai and started making a name for himself as ‘Kuronuma Isamu.’ Can’t get any bigger than that, right? I’m sure he had to do things he wasn’t proud of while undercover. I remember seeing his face being void of emotions whenever he came home for a few days; It was like a bit of his soul died.”

“What was your dad’s quirk?” Todoroki asked.

“’Invisible Man’. The perfect quirk for covert missions and assassinations,” she robotically answered. “I’ve inherited a small part of it, but I can’t will myself to disappear completely like he did. Mine is more dependent on light refractions and how I can blend myself to the space like camouflage.”

Feeling her emotions start to bubble up talking about her dad, she wiped the lower half of her face with her hand and rolled her lips in. Asui placed a comforting hand on the small of Ren’s back.

“Take a breath, ribbit,” she soothed. “We know this is hard for you.”

She softly nodded and gave a thankful look to the frog-like girl and lightly breathed through her nose.

“When he was close to completing the mission, someone leaked his identity to one of Chisaki’s men in his officer’s circle.” She gritted her teeth in anger. “And just like that, the whole operation was abandoned and all his contacts went dark. A year’s worth of work completely gone. None of the higher-ups could do anything about it. They just… let him take the fall.”

A single tear dropped down on the floor. She hastily wiped the trail away and sniffled. Ren was using everything she had to hold back the pain throbbing in her heart.

“The Hassaikai found out where we lived, who we were, everything...” Her voice was barely a whisper now and swallowed hard. “My dad hurried back that night and told us what happened. We packed what we could to escape, but they were just too fast.”

Her whole body visibly shook and hugged herself. Ren tried calming herself down with loud, shuddering breaths through her mouth to get through the rest of the story as tears freely streamed down her cheeks.

“They burned our house to try to smoke us out...” She struggled to speak through her hiccups. “My dad and brother, Jun, who was only eleven at the time, stayed behind to fight them off. I tried to grab his hand to come with me, but… I froze in fear. I couldn’t do anything and he was right within my reach...”

By now, Ren had completely broken down and covered her face with her hands, palms moist from the uncontrollable tears pouring out. 

“If only I wasn’t so timid and scared then... If only I had more willpower to reach my hand out… he’d still be alive,” Ren whimpered through her broken sobs. “All he did was look back, flashing a scared smile at me while crying himself. He said… ‘I’ll be fine. Because I’m a hero.’”

The deafening silence rung out in the room while she breathlessly sobbed to the point of hyperventilating and coughing. Everyone got misty-eyed and wiped them away save for Bakugou and Todoroki, who gave her a softened sympathetic glance. Were they in her position at that young of an age, what would they have done? Would they fight or listen to their parents?

The six gave her a chance to calm down before finishing the story. Ren looked back up with wet eyes and a completely red nose with discharge trying to leak out.

“All I remember was hearing gunshots after my mom grabbed me and ran out,” she continued between her hiccups and swallowed hard. “And from the corner of my eye, I saw Chisaki going after her. Even though I was scared to death... My body moved on its own and I managed to at least push her away to safety as he grabbed me instead...”

She slowly pulled down the collar of her thin sweater along with her bra strap, revealing a faded hand-like shaped scar on her left shoulder and looked away in shame. Their breaths audibly hitched in their dry throats. Uraraka clasped her mouth with both her hands. Midoriya’s breathing shook with nervousness as his eyes widened.

“He used Overhaul on me…” She paused, vividly remembering the smell of iron from her blood and searing white hot sensation. It was like being branded as livestock. Pieces of her flesh stripped away cell by cell in front of her very eyes. The pain after was like raking a fiery barbed wire doused in rubbing alcohol on an open and extremely tender wound.

“The doctors said it was nothing short of a miracle I still had a functioning arm after all the surgeries to fix the muscular and nerve damage…”

Her shaky right hand pulled the collar back up and adjusted it, lightly squeezing her marred shoulder.

“I always thought this scar was the physical embodiment of my sin and I hated myself for it. A small part of me hoped once I got Chisaki, it’d disappear for good… But he’ll always be a part of me no matter what. Just like Eri…”

Ren’s gaze briefly met Midoriya’s look of grief before closing her eyes.

“… What happened after?” the freckled boy managed to squeeze his words out through the dark and thick atmosphere.

“The cops and firefighters showed up, but most of the big players of Hassaikai got away. I was in and out of consciousness from the pain. All I could make out through blurry eyes was my mom screaming for help and putting pressure on my shoulder so I wouldn’t bleed out. While we were in the hospital recovering, a whole investigation happened with local law enforcement. And then, it was all over the news...” Ren trailed off and closed her eyes.

“Takahiro Rennosuke under the alias ‘Kuronuma Isamu’ got labeled as a dirty government agent who was bribed with laundered money from quirk-boosting drug sales. That was their way in keeping their hands clean. After that, the bullying at school started…”

Her eyes soon turned lifeless upon remembering these dark memories as her heart went numb.

“People who I thought were my friends stayed away. They called me ‘Scummy Remy’ and thought I was dirty like my dad; some even said I should’ve died in the fire,” she bitterly spat out. “Classmates threw away my books, wrote all over my desk… One kid with a lava quirk melted away my gym uniform and sneakers… The teachers didn’t even bother to hide their disgust. Somewhere along the way, I believed those words and stopped going to school.”

Feeling her legs lose feeling from sitting cross-legged, she adjusted her body and hugged her knees. Midoriya subtly gripped his fists just a little tighter with a pained expression, empathizing how it felt to be treated as lower than a human being because of things outside their control.

He’s reminded once more how cruel the world could really be. Bakugou glanced over at his childhood friend and looked back, feeling ashamed at his past self.

“My mom was getting ostracized at work too, but she at least had a few good people in her corner to get through it. Even after everything, she was trying her best with me, but nothing worked. And I’ve made her cry so many times because of it…”

Ren’s eyes reflected guilt and regret, letting out an audible sigh.

“After the “investigation” wrapped up, my dad’s boss dared come to the safe house we were staying at. She greeted him a firm slap to the face and cursed him out. That was the first time I’ve ever seen her extremely angry.”

She let out a wry chuckle from that memory, her eyes unfocused.

“Aside from the usual ‘my condolences’ bullshit, he came to deliver us a proposal from the higher ups: Start over in Japan under an asylum claim. That was their make good with us. The only trade-off was we don’t exist. Victoria and Remy Hayes-Takahiro never existed. At that point, we had no more cards to play nor did we have anything else to lose. So my mom agreed.”

“You chose ‘Ren’ as your new name...” Todoroki assumed.

The pink haired girl softly nodded and placed her hand over her heart.

“To keep my dad alive through me.”

“Did they ever find the person who leaked the information?” Bakugou asked.

“From what I was able to find out, that agent was found dead in a ditch four days later. By whose hands, it’s anybody’s guess.”

“’Find out?’” Uraraka questioned.

“Open the box.”

Midoriya and Kirishima reached in and took out the ledger notebook, bound old photographs and the framed family photo of the four of them.

“After the dust settled with the legalities and our citizenship, I did my own investigation,” she divulged and proceeded to tell them the entire story of her childhood escapades and run-in with Eraserhead, Fourth Kind and Gang Orca.

“I can’t believe you called Aizawa-sensei a ‘mophead’,” the spiky red-head snickered and covered his mouth from laughing, despite the gloomy atmosphere. “That’s pretty amazing.”

“I’m sure Tomoe and Seri filled in the blanks with how we met then?”

“The general idea of it, yeah,” Midoriya replied softly.

“Then fill me in,” Bakugou butted in. “I wasn’t there.”

While the group busied themselves with conversation and sifted through her relics, Ren excused herself to clean up in the bathroom. Huffing a heavy breath, she pulled her head up and stared at herself in the mirror after flipping the light switch on.

Her hair was completely disheveled like she just rolled out of bed; her hazel-green eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from all the crying. A dry crust of fresh discharge coated the bottom of her nose; the tip was completely red with matching blotches scattered across her fair skin. The scar on her shoulder was peeking out of the slouchy sweater she was wearing.

In short, she looked like hell and then some.

Turning the faucet on, she waited for the water to get warm enough to splash it on her face a few times. Feeling satisfied with the amount of wetness, she killed the running water and blindly felt for her hanging face towel to wipe the droplets off. Sighing again, she checked herself once more to make sure she was semi-presentable again to her guests outside.

Making her way back to her spot, Ren let out a light groan as she sat back down. A steady but comfortable silence filled the void as the group thumbed through the old ledger book. Kirishima slowly went through the photos one by one.

“You really didn’t hold back,” Bakugou was impressed with her meticulousness and carefully flipped the pages. “You even got down the schedules of each group’s patrol around their turf.”

“I was going to use that when I was old enough to stay out late to tail them.”

She unconsciously reached out to grab the frame of her family photo off of the floor and cradled it with her hands, something she used to not be able to do. The emotional weight of it was too heavy for her to lift before. Even touching it would make her shake violently back then.

But having seen through this to the end, her heart felt a lot lighter. Uraraka and Asui peered over her shoulders to see four people sitting in front of a house on the small front lawn, smiling at the camera. Her dad was a tall and lanky man with jet black hair wearing casual clothing, her mom with the same hair color as Ren leaning on his shoulder. Her brother had their dad’s hair but their mom’s smile. He and the younger form of herself linked arms, grinning ear to ear.

It was a home and family that no longer existed nor could she go back to.

“What kind of person was your brother?” Asui enquired. Being the oldest sibling in her family, she sincerely empathized with her upperclassman’s story.

“Jun was… stubborn, but patient and kindhearted,” she remembered with a small smile on her lips. “He was competitive, but never boastful. And had a strong sense of justice. His presence was always there to reassure people.”

Ren’s face softened at the memory and fresh as if it happened seconds ago.

“I was actually scared of my quirk when it first manifested because I couldn’t control it,” she revealed. “I was in the middle of my piano class one day and next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a busy street in California scared out of my mind and crying my eyes out in front of strangers.”

The pink haired girl paused briefly and covered the lower half of her face, cringing from embarrassment.

“Jun heard what happened and comforted me after I got home. While he did that, he told me something to help me control Flicker; I still use it today.”

“And that is?” Midoriya asked.

“‘Find a point and mark it your home.’”

“So what was his quirk?” Uraraka asked.

“He could generate a sonic-scream with his voice that could double as sonar. Drove my mom nuts whenever he sang or yelled excitedly.”

“That sounds like a really cool one,” Kirishima remarked. “He would’ve made an awesome hero.”

“If he was alive today, he’d probably be a sidekick to someone.”

Asui and Uraraka analyzed the photo and focused on her parents.

“You really do look like your dad,” Uraraka noticed. “Especially your nose.”

“I’ve been told that,” she let out a small chuckle with a matching smile. “I got my mom’s eyes and temper though.”

“Is it that bad?” Todoroki asked.

“It’s pretty bad,” Midoriya and Kirishima both firmly stated. Ren promptly face palmed, remembering what happened at the briefing at Nighteye’s agency and groaned.

“She went off on a pro-hero,” the green-haired boy squeaked out. “In English. I thought they were gonna kick us out.”

“The guy was pretty much puttin’ us down and calling us extra luggage,” Kirishima defended. “Senpai verbally tore him a new one.”

“We made good though,” Ren casually tossed that fact in there.

Bakugou was impressed and let out a smirk. “Never thought you had it in you, considering how timid you were with me.”

“That was my poor attempt in trying to be polite,” she deadpanned.

“I smelled that bullshit from a mile away,” the spiky blond boy retorted as she pressed her lips down into a fine line.

“So what are you going to do with all this stuff now?” Midoriya asked, gesturing to the contents.

Ren stared at it in deep thought and suddenly blurted out, “Burn it.”

“What?!” they all exclaimed.

“Heh, now you’re speakin’ my lingo,” the explosive boy encouraged with a wide grin and excited red eyes.

“But you put so much effort into—” Asui tried to reason, only to be cut off.

“It was my anger and sorrow I put into this.” She placed a hand on top of the ledger and stroked the aged leather cover with her thumb. “It’s given me nothing but lingering bad memories. And it’s served its purpose. Let the past stay in the past.”

“Are you sure though?” Todoroki calmly asked. “They may have been bad memories, but they made you into who you are today.”

“If I leave it here, someone might find it and I’d get in trouble,” she reasoned. “No one knows this exists except the ones I’ve told and those three pro-heroes.”

A heavy sigh emitted from their noses as they stared at the scattered items. They knew she was right and felt they weren’t at a place where they could argue with her.

“If you’re sure… I’ll help you burn it,” the bi-coloured haired boy finally spoke up. He looked at his left hand and back to Ren. “Just let me know when.”

She gave a soft, thankful nod in his direction and let out a loud breath.

“I loaded some pretty heavy stuff on you guys, didn’t I?” The corner of her lips curved upward in a lopsided direction and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Not exactly relaxing weekend talk, if that’s what you mean,” Kirishima chimed in with an awkward smile and scratched the back of his head.

“You asked for it,” she light-heartedly noted.

“I did, didn’t I?” the spiky red-head sheepishly replied with a toothy grin.

With the room getting stuffy with the amount of people in there, she opened the door only to see eavesdroppers piled on top of one another with protruding limbs. One of them looked up and revealed Kaminari’s face.

“O-oh, h-heeeeyyyy, senpai,” he timidly stuttered out as he met the livid death glare of their resident advisor. “Fancy seein’ you here.” The others shuffled below him as a means to escape, revealing Ashido and Sero.

Midoriya, Kirishima, and Uraraka’s face had shock written all over it, while Bakugou’s exasperated expression had him groan aloud. Todoroki and Asui, as always, were stoic. Ren immediately slammed her fist into her palm, audibly cracking her knuckles.

“How much did you hear?” she growled out through gritted teeth.

The group stammered and froze in fear.

“HOW. MUCH.” She repeated in a much harsher tone.

“From when you started crying?” the electric blond boy squeaked out.

“Fuck,” she hissed out in English.

“Oh no,” Kirishima blurted out.

“’Oh no?’” the group repeated with a look of extreme fear reflecting in their eyes.

“You… might want to run now,” Uraraka quietly suggested. “I’ll pray for your safety.”

“Now, w-wait a moment please,” Ashido stammered out and held an arm out, trying to crawl backwards. “We only did this because we got worried.”

“Not my problem,” she raged on. “I’m sure your parents taught you better than this.”

The infuriated pink-haired girl glowered down at the perpetrators, looking like a demon with a grin to match her current persona.

“This is what I do to nosy people.”

And that was when class 1-A knew the full extent of the Takahiro Special when the three member of the Bakusquad showed up in the common room the next day with scattered bandages and gauze all over their face and limbs.

[imitranslates]

Fukigen na Mononokean Ch. 62

Some old friends, some interesting tidbits about Aoi, and next chapter... Finally the Abeno backstory we’ve been waiting for?? We’ll see. Enjoy~

Please remember to check out the official English release when it comes out, preferably on Crunchyroll if you’re able to!

The newest chapter can be read on the official website by clicking the yellow button labeled 読む!

Fukigen na Mononokean Chapter 62 - Detour

Page 3

Ashiya: Fuzzy!

Page 4

Ashiya: Oof!

Justice: Good job with your lap around the moat.

Page 5

Nio: Nyuoon...

Page 6

Shizuku: I've finished treating him.

Shizuku: Thanks to your swift first aid, the damage wasn't very serious.

Everything will be alright once the wound heals!

Abeno: I see...

Ashiya: Thank goodness...

Shizuku: Now then,

Shizuku: Let me give you both a check up to make sure you haven't been cursed! There could be a bug hidden in your kimono... Hurry, take it off...

Abeno: How many times do I have to say, "We haven't been cursed, so we don't need a check up," before you give up? (Calm down.)

Abeno: Before we came back to the Underworld, we fumigated our clothes with the smoke from the purifying water to finish exorcising any insects.

Ashiya: C-can we get out of the smoke now? (Cough!)

Abeno: Not yet.

Page 7

(Shizuku: Shizuku let it go just for today, but!! If you start feeling bad, you have to come back right away!)

(Abeno: Okay, okay.)

(Ashiya: Yes!)

Ashiya: (...Hm? Now that I think of it...)

Ashiya: Shizuku-chan.

Is Koura-san not around today?

Shizuku: Yeah... She's out delivering medicine somewhere.

Shizuku: Recently I've stopped thinking of watching the shop as something to pass the time until we can be together again...

After all, isn't relying on Shizuku to mind the store is proof of Koura-sama's trust!? (Ehehe...)

(Ashiya: Isn't that nice...)

Abeno: ...

Abeno: (I wonder...) Back when you'd first started working here, you used to mix up medicinal herbs and poisonous plants in recipes...

And your explosions while making medicine turned mountains of precious ingredients into garbage. I guess the amount of times you've had to apologize for that kind of thing has gone down a little since then.

Shizuku: .......

Page 8

Shizuku: Don't tell those embarrassing stories about my trainee days!! (I don't make those kind of mistakes anymore!!)

Abeno: But I was praising you?

Shizuku: You definitely weren't!!

Shizuku: Ever since you've grown up, you've turned into a bully!

It wasn't that long ago when you were a good boy even smaller than Shizuku!

(Ashiya: Please get better at complimenting people!)

(Abeno: Why don't you try doing instead, then?)

Shizuku: What about you, Itsuki? When you just started working for the Mononokean, there were things you weren't good at, right?!

Ashiya: !?

Fuzzy: !

(Shizuku: Let's make things even!!)

Shizuku: Like, getting lost in town on errands!

Or coming to work late because you overslept!

Or spilling tea when bringing it over!

Ashiya: You mean, Abeno-san was a klutzy employee once..!?

Abeno: I don't remember that.

Shizuku: Don't act dumb!!

Page 9

Shizuku: After all, Aoi-chan--!

Shizuku: .......

Shizuku: Ah...

Shizuku: A, ah, that's right! Itsuki's not so free to be chatting away with Shizuku!

Shizuku: After this, you have to go see my brother at Newt Lake to give him your report!

Shizuku: My brother must be waiting to talk to you, too!

Abeno: What did Aoi say?

Shizuku: ......

Page 10

Shizuku: When you first started, you hated to lose, so whenever the conversation turned toward your blunders, you'd always look morose.

Shizuku: It was so funny that they wanted to tease you...

Shizuku: That's what Aoi said...

Abeno: So that's why you were so insistent about it...

Abeno: They really were annoying...

Page 11

Shizuku: Itsuki becoming a bully was definitely Aoi-chan's fault, huh~

Abeno: Saying that while giggling... Are you trying to make me mad?

Shizuku: I wonder~

Ashiya: (Aoi-chan...)

(The original master of the Mononokean.)

(The demon that saw off Sakae when he passed on as their employee...)

Page 12

[Just what kind of person

Was Aoi-san...]

Nio: .......

Everyone: !?

Nio: Nyuh!

Ashiya: He ran off!!

Nio: !?

Page 13

Nio: ......

Ashiya: Justice, sir! That demon over there...!

Ashiya: (As expected of the head of White Sand Prison! (He's a pro at capturing things...))

Justice: I always wanna catch things that're running. (You said he ran off, so I was on alert.)

Shizuku: Sir Justice...

Shizuku: Is this little one an escaped prisoner of White Sand Prison?

Justice: No, this is the first time I've seen his face.

But there's a lotta missing demons cases out there, so maybe he's one of those...

Abeno: Is there any way to learn this demon's identity?

Justice: Hm...

Justice: I dunno if we'll be able to figure out anything by going back to White Sand Prison, but...

Page 14

Justice: There was a recent request about some kid that goes "nyuoon" or something.

Ashiya: That's this guy!!

Abeno: That would be him.

Justice: (That so?) Then I'll take him on back to the requester before we go to Newt Lake.

Justice: You and Itsuki can head over first.

Nio: Nyu.

Ashiya: Please wait! I have to go with you!

Justice: (Hm?) ...Oh, yeah... I nearly left Ashiya-kun.

Shizuku: ?

Ashiya: If you're not watching over me, the Executive will make me wish I was dead... Please don't forget about it...

Justice: You coming, Itsuki?

Abeno: No... I'll head to Newt Lake first.

Justice: Then we'll meet up later.

(Shizuku: See you~!)

Page 15

(Ashiya: Is it this house?)

Demon: Nyu?!

Nio: Nyuoon...

Page 16

Demon: Nyuuh!!!

Nio: !?

Demon: Nyuoon.

Page 17

Justice: Hm...

Justice: So that demon was taking care of him.

Justice: And you found him around those remains that had been infested by the parasitic shrub.

Justice: (Nn..) So parasitic shrub's that close to the moat, on top of plague plants and host bugs...

Can hardly believe how much the princess's protection has weakened..

Ashiya: But even now, the Underworld Princess's health is failing...

Her divine protection will be able to go back to its previous strength, right?

Justice: Hmm... But we'll need some countermeasures in case she collapses again.

Ashiya: There are countermeasures?

Justice: Hmm...

Page 18

Justice: ...If Aoi was around, things would be different.

Ashiya: If Aoi-san was...!?

Justice: Aoi had a strong spiritual power that was comparable to the princess's.

With their aura, they could restrain the curses in the forest.

Justice: If the current princess resigned,

Justice: Aoi was supposed to sit on the throne as the next Underworld Princess.

Page 19

Ashiya: !

[So Aoi-san didn't just have the duty as the master of the Mononokean.

They also had a rare talent worthy of inheriting the princess's throne?!]

Justice: ...But, Aoi ain't here.

Justice: If there's even the slimmest chance of something happening,

We've gotta find a candidate for the next princess...

Ashiya: !

Justice: ......

Page 20

Justice: ...Hey, Ashiya-kun.

Justice: I got something important to talk to you about, but...

Ashiya: !?

Ashiya: Wh...

What is it?

Justice: Where are we? (I lost the path when we were chatting.)

Ashiya: ......

Ashiya: .......Eh?

Page 21

Ashiya: Where are we!?

Ashiya: Are we lost!?

Justice: At times like these, we can call the Mononokean.

Can you call it, Ashiya-kun?

Ashiya: Mononokean, coooome!!

Justice: ...It didn't come.

Ashiya: Abeno-saaaan!

Ashiya: Abeno-saaan!

[At that time.]

Abeno: ?

I'm getting chills all of a sudden...

Legislator: You didn't get possessed after all, did you? Don't infect me, okay?

Ashiya: Mononokeaaan!

(Ashiya: Mononokeaan!)

(Ashiya: Please, come!!)

Ashiya: ......

Ashiya: ....

Where is this place...?

Page 22

Ashiya: !

Ashiya: Hm?

Ashiya: Eek?!

Justice: Something's coming.

Ashiya: Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!

Page 23

Ashiya: Something on my leg!!

Justice: I can't see 'cuz of the tall grass.

Lil scree: Screeee!

Ashiya: !?

Lil scree: Scree!

Page 24

Lil scree: Screeee!

Ashiya: !!!

Lil screes: Scree! Scree! Screeee!!

Page 25

(Justice: A client of the Mononokean?)

Ashiya: Long time no see! You surprised me!

Ashiya: To think, we'd meet again by chance here...

Ashiya: Hm? That's wrong?

Justice: Ashiya-kun was yelling so loud that they heard you and came over, I bet.

Ashiya: Is that true...!?

Lil scree: Scre!

Ashiya: We actually happen to be lost right now...

Do you know the way to get to Newt Lake from here?

Lil scree: Screee!

Page 26

Justice: Looks like they'll show us the way.

Ashiya: We're saved! Like this, we'll be able to get to Newt Lake somehow.

Justice: Hm...

Voice: Heey! Ashiyaa!

Ashiya: !?

Lil scree: Scree.

Justice: Hm?

Page 27

Chuns: Chun! Chun!

Joumatsu: Princess! That was indeed Ashiya's voice!

Anmo: Pii!

Ashiya: Huh?

Justice: Someone else came. (More clients of the Mononokean?)

Manjirou: I've come to save you, Ashiya, my boy! (I heard you calling out!)

(Ashiya: Even Manjirou-san?!)

Ashiya: !?

Justice: Ah, here's the path.

(Ashiya: Bonta-san?!)

Bonta: Ashiyaa!

Page 28

Ashiya: ...?

Ashiya: (I was just yelling for Abeno-san and the Mononokean as a last ditch effort...)

Chuns: Chun!

Justice: ...

(Joumatsu: Princess!!)

(Bonta: I ended up getting a job, too! I'm in the middle of working~)

Ashiya: (So many of them came...!!)

(Manjirou: Is young Abeno keeping well?)

(Ashiya: Bonta-san, you're in the middle of a delivery?)

(Ashiya: Abeno-san's doing well!)

Ashiya: (I'm glad we didn't stay lost, but I caused everyone trouble...

I'll probably get scolded when I tell Abeno-san later...)

(Abeno: What? What's an employee doing getting helped by his clients!?)

Justice: ......

Justice: ......

Page 29

Little screes: Screee.

Ashiya: We're here!!

Ashiya: Everyone, I want to thank you deeply for coming to my aid when I was lost!

Lil scree: Scree!

(Screes: Scree!)

(Bonta: See you, Ashiyaa!)

(Manjirou: Give my regards to young Abeno!)

Justice: .......

Page 30

Justice: ......

(Ashiya: Fuzzy, be careful so you don't fall.)

Justice: ......

Justice: Mm...

Justice: ...Hey, Ashiya-kun.

Justice: Is it possible that you used your "influence" just then?

Page 31

Ashiya: Eh?

Ashiya: I used it?! (Unconsciously again?!)

(Ashiya: When?! Where!?)

Justice: I was just asking, but... If you're acting like that, you must not've.

Ashiya: Have I... done something to make the Justice suspect me?

Justice: (Hm.) Just a li'l...

Justice: For that many demons to show up one after the other,

I was thinking there was something more to it.

Ashiya: (Something more...?)

Ashiya: !!

["Influence" is a power that suppresses a demon's will and thoughts, and forces them into obedience.]

[Then, depending on the order, it's possible to call demons with it...!

The Justice was thinking about that...]

Page 32

Justice: ...But,

Justice: Those demons didn't look the least bit scared of your influence when I checked 'em out.

Justice: All of 'em... came to find you with their own will, huh?

Page 33

Justice: Since I'm your guardian, I wanted to make sure you weren't using your influence.

Justice: Sorry for doubting ya.

Ashiya: It's okay...

(To gather demons from all around...)

[In that way...

He resembles Aoi a little, huh...]

Page 34

Ashiya: !

Legislator: (Yo!) Job well done!

Ashiya: Thank you...

Ashiya: (This boss of ours... Is he skipping out on work again...!? (While his subordinates are out working!))

Page 35

Justice: Itsuki said he'd come to Newt Lake first, but...

Legislator: Yeah, he came earlier and told me about the condition of the forest.

Justice: I heard lots from Ashiya-kun on the way, too.

Legislator: I see...

Legislator: The situation in the forest isn't looking good, huh...

Legislator: But I wanted Itsuki and Ashiya-kun to look around firsthand, so that we could learn more details about any changes.

Once we know about the current state, we'll be able to predict how things will go from here, and can figure out some proper countermeasures.

Legislator: With the princess's barrier as unstable as it is, we three officials must use the government to help support the Underworld.

Page 36

Legislator: We can't allow any of those "curses" to corrupt the Underworld.

(He's always acting so carefree that I can never tell what he's thinking, but)

(As one of the three officials, he's thinking about the Underworld so seriously.)

Ashiya: (He might be the actions before words type... I'll have to reassess him!)

(Ashiya: Sorry for thinking you were slacking off...)

Page 37

Justice: Don't say serious things like that when you're drinking.

Justice: I'm only on my 4th cup, I'm not drunk at all?

Ashiya: ...

Ashiya: (I reassessed him, but the result's exactly the same. (Was that a drunken nonsense before?))

Justice: 'Side from that, why're you outside? (You even brought the desk out.)

Legislator: (Listen to me.) Right now Itsuki is in my room, writing a report, but

He said to me, "I'm getting distracted by all the smoke from your pipe," and kicked me out. (Cruel, right?)

Legislator: And then that girl even brought over my favorite sake and dishes~ (She was so cute~)

Abeno: (It stinks, he won't shut up, it's so annoying, he's bothering me.)

Ashiya: Written report... Will I have do that, too? (I can't write in the Underworld's language, though...)

Legislator: If there's anything extra, I'll add it to Itsuki's report, so there's no need.

Legislator: Oh, Ashiya-kun, did you notice anything particular in the forests?

Page 38

Ashiya: (Uhhh...) Was there anything Abeno-san didn't mention...?

Legislator: You don't have to think so hard about it.

It's fine if it's something trivial or seemingly unrelated. (Please, relax.)

Ashiya: (Something trivial!? Something I thought was unrelated!? (Isn't that too hard?!))

Legislator: (Now he looks even more troubled...)

Ashiya: ...!

(Abeno: And I can't call the Mononokean...)

(If I say I noticed that...)

Ashiya: .......

Ashiya: ...Um...

Abeno-san...

Page 39

Ashiya: Had a previous experience entering the forest... right?

Legislator&Justice: ......

Page 40

Ashiya: I knew it, that was too unrelated of a topic...

Uh, let's see... What else did I notice...

(Ashiya: I wonder if any bug spray from the Mundane world would have an effect on the bugs in the Underworld...)

Legislator&Justice: ......

Justice: Itsuki entered the forest once when he was still an employee.

Justice: ...Hey,

Ashiya-kun.

Page 41

Justice: To what extent do you know about "Abeno Haruitsuki"?

Ashiya: ...What extent?

Page 42

(From that day we first met...)

(What extent have I learned about him?)

Page 43

(Just how much do I know...)

[About Abeno-san...]

Abeno: (Those guys are really late... Don't tell me they got lost...)

[loveofyhwh]

September 5: Job 41–42; 1 Timothy 3; Psalm 62; Proverbs 22:28

New Post has been published on https://loveofyhwh.com/september-5-job-41-42-1-timothy-3-psalm-62-proverbs-2228/

September 5: Job 41–42; 1 Timothy 3; Psalm 62; Proverbs 22:28

Old Testament:

Job 41–42

Job 41–42 (Listen)

41   Ch 40:25 in Hebrew‘>1 “Can you draw out LeviathanA large sea animal, exact identity unknown‘>2 with a fishhook     or press down his tongue with a cord? 2   Can you put a rope in his nose     or pierce his jaw with a hook? 3   Will he make many pleas to you?     Will he speak to you soft words? 4   Will he make a covenant with you     to take him for your servant forever? 5   Will you play with him as with a bird,     or will you put him on a leash for your girls? 6   Will traders bargain over him?     Will they divide him up among the merchants? 7   Can you fill his skin with harpoons     or his head with fishing spears? 8   Lay your hands on him;     remember the battle—you will not do it again! 9   Ch 41:1 in Hebrew‘>3 Behold, the hope of a man is false;     he is laid low even at the sight of him. 10   No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up.     Who then is he who can stand before me? 11   Who has first given to me, that I should repay him?     Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine. 12   “I will not keep silence concerning his limbs,     or his mighty strength, or his goodly frame. 13   Who can strip off his outer garment?     Who would come near him with a bridle? 14   Who can open the doors of his face?     Around his teeth is terror. 15   His back is made ofOr His pride is in his‘>4 rows of shields,     shut up closely as with a seal. 16   One is so near to another     that no air can come between them. 17   They are joined one to another;     they clasp each other and cannot be separated. 18   His sneezings flash forth light,     and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn. 19   Out of his mouth go flaming torches;     sparks of fire leap forth. 20   Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke,     as from a boiling pot and burning rushes. 21   His breath kindles coals,     and a flame comes forth from his mouth. 22   In his neck abides strength,     and terror dances before him. 23   The folds of his flesh stick together,     firmly cast on him and immovable. 24   His heart is hard as a stone,     hard as the lower millstone. 25   When he raises himself up, the mightyOr gods‘>5 are afraid;     at the crashing they are beside themselves. 26   Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail,     nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin. 27   He counts iron as straw,     and bronze as rotten wood. 28   The arrow cannot make him flee;     for him, sling stones are turned to stubble. 29   Clubs are counted as stubble;     he laughs at the rattle of javelins. 30   His underparts are like sharp potsherds;     he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire. 31   He makes the deep boil like a pot;     he makes the sea like a pot of ointment. 32   Behind him he leaves a shining wake;     one would think the deep to be white-haired. 33   On earth there is not his like,     a creature without fear. 34   He sees everything that is high;     he is king over all the sons of pride.”

Job’s Confession and Repentance

42 Then Job answered the LORD and said:

2   “I know that you can do all things,     and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. 3   ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’   Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,     things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. 4   ‘Hear, and I will speak;     I will question you, and you make it known to me.’ 5   I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,     but now my eye sees you; 6   therefore I despise myself,     and repentOr and am comforted‘>6 in dust and ashes.”

The Lord Rebukes Job’s Friends

7 After the LORD had spoken these words to Job, the LORD said to Eliphaz the Temanite: “My anger burns against you and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has. 8 Now therefore take seven bulls and seven rams and go to my servant Job and offer up a burnt offering for yourselves. And my servant Job shall pray for you, for I will accept his prayer not to deal with you according to your folly. For you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.” 9 So Eliphaz the Temanite and Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went and did what the LORD had told them, and the LORD accepted Job’s prayer.

The Lord Restores Job’s Fortunes

10 And the LORD restored the fortunes of Job, when he had prayed for his friends. And the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before. 11 Then came to him all his brothers and sisters and all who had known him before, and ate bread with him in his house. And they showed him sympathy and comforted him for all the evilOr disaster‘>7 that the LORD had brought upon him. And each of them gave him a piece of moneyHebrew a qesitah; a unit of money of unknown value‘>8 and a ring of gold.

12 And the LORD blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. And he had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 1,000 yoke of oxen, and 1,000 female donkeys. 13 He had also seven sons and three daughters. 14 And he called the name of the first daughter Jemimah, and the name of the second Keziah, and the name of the third Keren-happuch. 15 And in all the land there were no women so beautiful as Job’s daughters. And their father gave them an inheritance among their brothers. 16 And after this Job lived 140 years, and saw his sons, and his sons’ sons, four generations. 17 And Job died, an old man, and full of days.

Footnotes

[1] 41:1 Ch 40:25 in Hebrew [2] 41:1 A large sea animal, exact identity unknown [3] 41:9 Ch 41:1 in Hebrew [4] 41:15 Or His pride is in his [5] 41:25 Or gods [6] 42:6 Or and am comforted [7] 42:11 Or disaster [8] 42:11 Hebrew a qesitah; a unit of money of unknown value

(ESV)

New Testament:

1 Timothy 3

1 Timothy 3 (Listen)

Qualifications for Overseers

3 The saying is trustworthy: If anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task. 2 Therefore an overseerOr bishop; Greek episkopos; a similar term occurs in verse 1‘>1 must be above reproach, the husband of one wife,Or a man of one woman; also verse 12‘>2 sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, 3 not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. 4 He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive, 5 for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church? 6 He must not be a recent convert, or he may become puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil. 7 Moreover, he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace, into a snare of the devil.

Qualifications for Deacons

8 Deacons likewise must be dignified, not double-tongued,Or devious in speech‘>3 not addicted to much wine, not greedy for dishonest gain. 9 They must hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. 10 And let them also be tested first; then let them serve as deacons if they prove themselves blameless. 11 Their wives likewiseOr Wives likewise, or Women likewise‘>4 must be dignified, not slanderers, but sober-minded, faithful in all things. 12 Let deacons each be the husband of one wife, managing their children and their own households well. 13 For those who serve well as deacons gain a good standing for themselves and also great confidence in the faith that is in Christ Jesus.

The Mystery of Godliness

14 I hope to come to you soon, but I am writing these things to you so that, 15 if I delay, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth. 16 Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness:

  HeGreek Who; some manuscripts God; others Which‘>5 was manifested in the flesh,     vindicatedOr justified‘>6 by the Spirit,Or vindicated in spirit‘>7       seen by angels,   proclaimed among the nations,     believed on in the world,       taken up in glory.

Footnotes

[1] 3:2 Or bishop; Greek episkopos; a similar term occurs in verse 1 [2] 3:2 Or a man of one woman; also verse 12 [3] 3:8 Or devious in speech [4] 3:11 Or Wives likewise, or Women likewise [5] 3:16 Greek Who; some manuscripts God; others Which [6] 3:16 Or justified [7] 3:16 Or vindicated in spirit

(ESV)

Psalm:

Psalm 62

Psalm 62 (Listen)

My Soul Waits for God Alone

To the choirmaster: according to Jeduthun. A Psalm of David.

62   For God alone my soul waits in silence;     from him comes my salvation. 2   He alone is my rock and my salvation,     my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. 3   How long will all of you attack a man     to batter him,     like a leaning wall, a tottering fence? 4   They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.     They take pleasure in falsehood.   They bless with their mouths,     but inwardly they curse. Selah 5   For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,     for my hope is from him. 6   He only is my rock and my salvation,     my fortress; I shall not be shaken. 7   On God rests my salvation and my glory;     my mighty rock, my refuge is God. 8   Trust in him at all times, O people;     pour out your heart before him;     God is a refuge for us. Selah 9   Those of low estate are but a breath;     those of high estate are a delusion;   in the balances they go up;     they are together lighter than a breath. 10   Put no trust in extortion;     set no vain hopes on robbery;     if riches increase, set not your heart on them. 11   Once God has spoken;     twice have I heard this:   that power belongs to God, 12     and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love.   For you will render to a man     according to his work.

(ESV)

Proverb:

Proverbs 22:28

Proverbs 22:28 (Listen)

28   Do not move the ancient landmark     that your fathers have set.

(ESV)

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE BOOK OF Josue - From The Douay-Rheims Bible - Latin Vulgate

Chapter 8

INTRODUCTION

This book is called Josue, because it contains the history of what passed under him, and, according to the common opinion, was written by him. The Greeks call him Jesus; for Josue and Jesus, in the Hebrew, are the same name, and have the same signification, viz. A Saviour. And it was not without a mystery, that he who was to bring the people into the land of promise, should have his name changed from Osee (for so he was called before, Num. xiii. 17,) to Josue, or Jesus, to give us to understand, the Moses, by his law, could only bring the people within sight of the promised inheritance, but that our Saviour, Jesus, was to bring us into it. Ch. --- The Hebrews who had been so rebellious under Moses, behaved with remarkable fidelity and respect towards his successor; who, by these means, more forcibly represented the Christian Church, (D.) which will be ever obedient to her divine head and observe his directions. Josue had been trained up a long time under the hand of Moses, and God had given him the commission to govern his people, in so public a manner, that no one offered to claim that high and arduous office. In effect, the whole conduct of Josue before and after his exaltation, shewed him to be most deserving of command. H. --- Josue, says the Holy Ghost, (Eccli. xlvi. 1,) was successor of Moses among the prophets, or, according to the Greek, "in prophecies." Many explain this of the obligation incumbent on him, to continue the sacred history (C.) and revelations where Moses had left off. The last chapter of this book informs us that he did so. Perhaps some additions, by way of farther explication, have been made by subsequent inspired writers, though most of the passages which are adduced to prove this assertion, seem to be of little force. Respecting the death of Josue, we may make the same observations as on that of Moses. It may have been written by the author of the Book of Judges. Theodoret seems to have thought that the work before us, was compiled out of the public registers, which are quoted C. x. under the name of the book of the Lord. See Num. xxi. 14. The Samaritans have a book or chronicle of Josue, which relates in 39 or 47 chapters, many facts of scriptural history, (H.) down to the reign of Adrian, intermingled with a variety of fables. It seems to be of modern date. Hottinger undertook to publish it in Latin, but was prevented by death. C. --- The true history of Josue sets before us the passage of the Jordan, the conquest of Chanaan, and the distribution of the country. After the pious general had performed all that could be expected from him, after he had twice ratified the covenant between God and his people, and exhorted the latter, with his last breath, to observe an inviolable fidelity to the only Lord, he departed this life in peace, in the 110th year of his age, and was buried at Thamnath Sare, which he had built for the place of his abode. H. --- As the five books of Moses contain the law, intermixed with history, so this first of the historical books exhibits a variety of useful precepts and predictions. The prophetical and sapiential books must be considered in the same light. W. --- They all tend to promote true wisdom and the salvation of men, provided they be perused in the same spirit with which they were written. H.

The additional Notes in this Edition of the New Testament will be marked with the letter A. Such as are taken from various Interpreters and Commentators, will be marked as in the Old Testament. B. Bristow, C. Calmet, Ch. Challoner, D. Du Hamel, E. Estius, J. Jansenius, M. Menochius, Po. Polus, P. Pastorini, T. Tirinus, V. Bible de Vence, W. Worthington, Wi. Witham. — The names of other authors, who may be occasionally consulted, will be given at full length.

Verses are in English and Latin. HAYDOCK CATHOLIC BIBLE COMMENTARY

This Catholic commentary on the Old Testament, following the Douay-Rheims Bible text, was originally compiled by Catholic priest and biblical scholar Rev. George Leo Haydock (1774-1849). This transcription is based on Haydock's notes as they appear in the 1859 edition of Haydock's Catholic Family Bible and Commentary printed by Edward Dunigan and Brother, New York, New York.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Changes made to the original text for this transcription include the following:

Greek letters. The original text sometimes includes Greek expressions spelled out in Greek letters. In this transcription, those expressions have been transliterated from Greek letters to English letters, put in italics, and underlined. The following substitution scheme has been used: A for Alpha; B for Beta; G for Gamma; D for Delta; E for Epsilon; Z for Zeta; E for Eta; Th for Theta; I for Iota; K for Kappa; L for Lamda; M for Mu; N for Nu; X for Xi; O for Omicron; P for Pi; R for Rho; S for Sigma; T for Tau; U for Upsilon; Ph for Phi; Ch for Chi; Ps for Psi; O for Omega. For example, where the name, Jesus, is spelled out in the original text in Greek letters, Iota-eta-sigma-omicron-upsilon-sigma, it is transliterated in this transcription as, Iesous. Greek diacritical marks have not been represented in this transcription.

Footnotes. The original text indicates footnotes with special characters, including the astrisk (*) and printers' marks, such as the dagger mark, the double dagger mark, the section mark, the parallels mark, and the paragraph mark. In this transcription all these special characters have been replaced by numbers in square brackets, such as [1], [2], [3], etc.

Accent marks. The original text contains some English letters represented with accent marks. In this transcription, those letters have been rendered in this transcription without their accent marks.

Other special characters.

Solid horizontal lines of various lengths that appear in the original text have been represented as a series of consecutive hyphens of approximately the same length, such as ---.

Ligatures, single characters containing two letters united, in the original text in some Latin expressions have been represented in this transcription as separate letters. The ligature formed by uniting A and E is represented as Ae, that of a and e as ae, that of O and E as Oe, and that of o and e as oe.

Monetary sums in the original text represented with a preceding British pound sterling symbol (a stylized L, transected by a short horizontal line) are represented in this transcription with a following pound symbol, l.

The half symbol (1/2) and three-quarters symbol (3/4) in the original text have been represented in this transcription with their decimal equivalent, (.5) and (.75) respectively.

Unreadable text. Places where the transcriber's copy of the original text is unreadable have been indicated in this transcription by an empty set of square brackets, [].

Chapter 8

Hai is taken and burnt, and all the inhabitants slain. An altar is built, and sacrifices offered. The law is written on stones, and the blessings and cursings are read before all the people.

[1] And the Lord said to Josue: Fear not, nor be thou dismayed: take with thee all the multitude of fighting men, arise and go up to the town of Hai. Behold I have delivered into thy hand the king thereof, and the people, and the city, and the land. Dixit autem Dominus ad Josue : Ne timeas, neque formides : tolle tecum omnem multitudinem pugnatorum, et consurgens ascende in oppidum Hai. Ecce tradidi in manu tua regem ejus, et populum, urbemque et terram.

[2] And thou shalt do to the city of Hai, and to the king thereof, as thou hast done to Jericho, and to the king thereof: but the spoils and all the cattle you shall take for a prey to yourselves: lay an ambush for the city behind it. Faciesque urbi Hai, et regi ejus, sicut fecisti Jericho, et regi illius : praedam vero, et omnia animantia diripietis vobis : pone insidias urbi post eam.

[3] And Josue arose, and all the army of the fighting men with him, to go up against Hai: and he sent thirty thousand chosen valiant men in the night, Surrexitque Josue, et omnis exercitus bellatorum cum eo, ut ascenderent in Hai : et electa triginta millia virorum fortium misit nocte,

[4] And commanded them, saying: Lay an ambush behind the city: and go not very far from it: and be ye all ready. praecepitque eis, dicens : Ponite insidias post civitatem : nec longius recedatis : et eritis omnes parati.

[5] But I and the rest of the multitude which is with me; will approach on the contrary side against the city. And when they shall come out against us, we will flee, and turn our backs, as we did before: Ego autem, et reliqua multitudo, quae mecum est, accedemus ex adverso contra urbem. Cumque exierint contra nos, sicut ante fecimus : fugiemus, et terga vertemus,

[6] Till they pursuing us be drawn farther from the city: for they will think that we flee as before. donec persequentes ab urbe longius protrahantur : putabunt enim nos fugere sicut prius.

[7] And whilst we are fleeing, and they pursuing, you shall arise out of the ambush, and shall destroy the city: and the Lord your God will deliver it into our hands. Nobis ergo fugientibus, et illis persequentibus, consurgetis de insidiis, et vastabitis civitatem : tradetque eam Dominus Deus vester in manus vestras.

[8] And when you shall have taken it, set it on fire, and you shall do all things so as I have commanded. Cumque ceperitis, succendite eam, et sic omnia facietis, ut jussi.

[9] And he sent them away, and they went on to the place of the ambush, and abode between Bethel and Hai, on the west side of the city of Hai. But Josue stayed that night in the midst of the people, Dimisitque eos, et perrexerunt ad locum insidiarum, sederuntque inter Bethel et Hai, ad occidentalem plagam urbis Hai : Josue autem nocte illa in medio mansit populi,

[10] And rising early in the morning, he mustered his soldiers, and went up with the ancients in the front of the army environed with the aid of the fighting men. surgensque diluculo recensuit socios, et ascendit cum senioribus in fronte exercitus, vallatus auxilio pugnatorum.

[11] And when they were come, and were gone up over against the city, they stood on the north side of the city, between which and them there was a valley in the midst. Cumque venissent et ascendissent ex adverso civitatis, steterunt ad septentrionalem urbis plagam, inter quam et eos erat vallis media.

[12] And he had chosen five thousand men, and set them to lie in ambush between Bethel and Hai, on the west side of the same city: Quinque autem millia viros elegerat, et posuerat in insidiis inter Bethel et Hai ex occidentali parte ejusdem civitatis :

[13] But all the rest of the army went in battle array on the north side, so that the last of that multitude reached to the west side of the city. So Josue went that night, and stood in the midst of the valley. omnis vero reliquus exercitus ad aquilonem aciem dirigebat, ita ut novissimi illius multitudinis occidentalem plagam urbis attingerent. Abiit ergo Josue nocte illa, et stetit in vallis medio.

[14] And when the king of Hai saw this, he made haste in the morning, and went out with all the army of the city, and set it in battle array toward the desert, not knowing that there lay an ambush behind his back. Quod cum vidisset rex Hai, festinavit mane, et egressus est cum omni exercitu civitatis, direxitque aciem contra desertum, ignorans quod post tergum laterent insidiae.

[15] But Josue, and all Israel gave back, making as if they were afraid, and fleeing by the way of the wilderness. Josue vero et omnis Israel cesserunt loco, simulantes metum, et fugientes per solitudinis viam.

[16] But they shouting together, and encouraging one another, pursued them. And when they were come from the city, At illi vociferante pariter, et se mutuo cohortantes, persecuti sunt eos. Cumque recessissent a civitate,

[17] And not one remained in the city of Hai and of Bethel, that did not pursue after Israel, leaving the towns open as they had rushed out, et ne unus quidem in urbe Hai et Bethel remansisset qui non persequeretur Israel ( sicut eruperant aperta oppida relinquentes),

[18] The Lord said to Josue: Lift up the shield that is in thy hand, towards the city of Hai, for I will deliver it to thee. dixit Dominus ad Josue : Leva clypeum, qui in manu tua est, contra urbem Hai, quoniam tibi tradam eam.

[19] And when he had lifted up his shield towards the city, the ambush that lay hid, rose up immediately: and going to the city, took it and set it on fire. Cumque elevasset clypeum ex adverso civitatis, insidiae, quae latebant, surrexerunt confestim : et pergentes ad civitatem, ceperunt, et succenderunt eam.

[20] And the men of the city, that pursued after Josue, looking back and seeing the smoke of the city rise up to heaven, had no more power to flee this way or that way: especially as they that had counterfeited flight, and were going toward the wilderness, turned back most valiantly against them that pursued. Viri autem civitatis, qui persequebantur Josue, respicientes et videntes fumum urbis ad caelum usque conscendere, non potuerunt ultra huc illucque diffugere : praesertim cum hi qui simulaverant fugam, et tendebant ad solitudinem, contra persequentes fortissime restitissent.

[21] So Josue and all Israel seeing that the city was taken, and that the smoke of the city rose up, returned and slew the men of Hai. Vidensque Josue et omnis Israel quod capta esset civitas, et fumus urbis ascenderet, reversus percussit viros Hai.

[22] And they also that had taken and set the city on fire, issuing out of the city to meet their own men, began to cut off the enemies who were surrounded by them. So that the enemies being cut off on both sides, not one of so great a multitude was saved. Siquidem et illi qui ceperant et succenderant civitatem, egressi ex urbe contra suos, medios hostium ferire coeperunt. Cum ergo ex utraque parte adversarii caederentur, ita ut nullus de tanta multitudine salvaretur,

[23] And they took the king of the city of Hai alive, and brought him to Josue. regem quoque urbis Hai apprehenderunt viventem, et obtulerunt Josue.

[24] So all being slain that had pursued after Israel in his flight to the wilderness, and tailing by the sword in the same place, the children of Israel returned and laid waste the city. Igitur omnibus interfectis, qui Israelem ad deserta tendentem fuerant persecuti, et in eodem loco gladio corruentibus, reversi filii Israel percusserunt civitatem.

[25] And the number of them that fell that day, both of men and women, was twelve thousand persons all of the city of Hai. Erant autem qui in eodem die conciderant a viro usque ad mulierem, duodecim millia hominum, omnes urbis Hai.

[26] But Josue drew not back his hand, which he had stretched out on high, holding the shield, till all the inhabitants of Hai were slain. Josue vero non contraxit manum, quam in sublime porrexerat, tenens clypeum donec interficerentur omnes habitatores Hai.

[27] And the children of Israel divided among them the cattle and the prey of the city, as the Lord had commanded Josue. Jumenta autem et praedam civitatis diviserunt sibi filii Israel, sicut praeceperat Dominus Josue.

[28] And he burned the city, and made it a heap for ever: Qui succendit urbem, et fecit eam tumulum sempiternum :

[29] And he hung the king thereof on a gibbet until the evening and the going down of the sun. Then Josue commanded, and they took down his carcass from the gibbet: and threw it in the very entrance of the city, heaping upon it a great heap of stones, which remaineth until this present day. regem quoque ejus suspendit in patibulo usque ad vesperam et solis occasum. Praecepitque Josue, et deposuerunt cadaver ejus de cruce : projeceruntque in ipso introitu civitatis, congesto super eum magno acervo lapidum, qui permanet usque in praesentem diem.

[30] Then Josue built an altar to the Lord the God of Israel in mount Hebal, Tunc aedificavit Josue altare Domino Deo Israel in monte Hebal,

[31] As Moses the servant of the Lord had commanded the children of Israel, and it is written in the book of the law of Moses: an altar of unhewn stones which iron had not touched: and he offered upon it holocausts to the Lord, and immolated victims of peace offerings. sicut praeceperat Moyses famulus Domini filiis Israel, et scriptum est in volumine legis Moysi : altare vero de lapidibus impolitis, quos ferrum non tetigit : et obtulit super eo holocausta Domino, immolavitque pacificas victimas.

[32] And he wrote upon stones the Deuteronomy of the law of Moses, which he had ordered before the children of Israel. Et scripsit super lapides Deuteronomium legis Moysi, quod ille digesserat coram filiis Israel.

[33] And all the people, and the ancients, and the princes and judges stood on both sides of the ark, before the priests that carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord, both the stranger and he that was born among them, half of them by mount Garizim, and half by mount Hebal, as Moses the servant of the Lord had commanded. And first he blessed the people of Israel. Omnis autem populus, et majores natu, ducesque ac judices, stabant ex utraque parte arcae, in conspectu sacerdotum qui portabant arcam foederis Domini, ut advena, ita et indigena. Media pars eorum juxta montem Garizim, et media juxta montem Hebal, sicut praeceperat Moyses famulus Domini. Et primum quidem benedixit populo Israel.

[34] After this he read all the words of the blessing and the cursing and all things that were written in the book of the law. Post haec legit omnia verba benedictionis et maledictionis, et cuncta quae scripta erant in legis volumine.

[35] He left out nothing of those things which Moses had commanded, but he repeated all before all the people of Israel, with the women and children and strangers that dwelt among them. Nihil ex his quae Moyses jusserat, reliquit intactum, sed universa replicavit coram omni multitudine Israel, mulieribus ac parvulis et advenis, qui inter eos morabantur.

Commentary:

Ver. 1. Men. Masius and Salien (H.) suppose that Josue selected out of them 30,000; 5000 of whom were to be placed in ambush, and the rest were to pretend that they were terrified at the approach of the king of Hai, and to flee with Josue. But the text seems to assert that all accompanied their general, (C.) excepting such as were left to guard the camp.

Ver. 2. King. There was this difference, that the king of Hai was to be gibbeted, and his corpse stoned, while the city was to be plundered by the Israelites. --- It. This mode of warfare is equally just, as if the enemy was attacked in the open field. Dolus an virtus quis in hoste requirat? Virg. --- God was pleased to authorize it on this occasion, that his people might be less exposed, being under some apprehensions on account of the former defeat. Some nations have preferred to encounter the enemy openly. Grot. Jur. iii. 1. 20. But their example is no law for others. "When the war is just, it matters not whether a person gain the victory by open fighting or by stratagem." S. Aug. q. 10. "It is often prudent to conceal the truth." c. Mend. x. People engaged in warfare, allow each other to take such advantages. God could easily have routed these few men by means of the army of Israel, or by a miracle, as he did at Jericho. H. --- But he is at liberty to act as he thinks proper. The ambush was laid on the south-west side of Hai, so that those of Bethel might not perceive it, as they came out to the assistance of their countrymen, v. 17. Five thousand were placed in one place, and 25,000 in another, while the main body of the army, under Josue, took a circuit by the east, and came to attack the city on the north side. C.

Ver. 4. Ready to enter the city, when its soldiers are all in pursuit of us. H.

Ver. 5. And turn, &c. Josue had not fled before. C. --- Heb. "against us, as at the first, we will flee before them."

Ver. 8. Fire. They were to set some houses on fire for a signal, but the whole city was not to be destroyed (C.) till the Israelites had collected the plunder. H.

Ver. 10. Ancients, who had a command in the army, and assisted Josue with their counsel. They gave him an account of the state and numbers of the army. C.

Ver. 12. Five thousand. These were part of the 30,000 mentioned above, v. 3. Ch. --- Josue had given orders to have them placed in ambush apart; (C.) unless, perhaps, he places these himself in some secret place. H.

Ver. 13. Night. He spent the forepart of it at Galgal, to prevent any suspicion, v. 9. But setting out very early, (v. 10,) he arrived at Hai before sun-rise.

Ver. 14. Desert of Bethel, fit only for pasturage. C. xviii. 12.

Ver. 15. Afraid. Heb. "made as if they were beaten before them, and fled." Thus they drew on the king of Hai, so as to leave the ambush in his rear. C.

Ver. 17. Not one fit to bear arms. W. --- Bethel. As soon as the people of this city perceived the Israelites fleeing, they rushed out to assist the king of Hai in the pursuit. But when they saw the former rally, before they had joined their friends, (C.) they very prudently retired, and left the unhappy citizens of Hai to their fate. H. --- Hence all who were slain belonged to the latter city, v. 25.

Ver. 18. Shield, as Moses lifted up his hands. Ex. xvii. 11. Some translate, "dart, spear," or "sword." Sept. and Eccli. xvi. 3. C. --- The buckler might be suspended on a spear, (M.) that it might be seen afar off (W.) by some appointed to keep watch on purpose. H.

Ver. 23. Josue. This king was reserved for greater torments and ignominy. It was the ancient custom to present kings and chief commanders to the victorious general, who rewarded those who brought them. Grotius.

Ver. 28. For ever, or for a long time. It was rebuilt before the captivity. 2 Esd. vii. 31.

Ver. 29. Gibbet. Sept. "a cross." Some say that the king was first killed; but that assertion is destitute of proof. The corpse was taken down before night. Deut. xxi. 22.

Ver. 30. Hebal. The Sam. Chronicle says on Mount Garizim. No doubt Josue complied with the injunctions of Moses: but we have seen that there are reasons to doubt which mountain he pitched upon. Deut. xxvii. 4. H. --- It seems more probable that the altar would be upon Garizim, where the blessings were proclaimed, if the texts of Moses and of Josue did not formally assert the contrary. C. --- But if they have been interpolated, nothing certain can be deduced from those passages. Josephus (iv. 8,) says that the altar was between the two mountains, not far from Sichem, which was built at the foot of Garizim; and it is not probable that this historian, the mortal enemy of the Samaritans, would have hesitated to assert that the altar was upon Hebal, if the texts had been so positive, in his time. It is undeniable that the tribes of Levi, and of Ephraim, were upon Garizim; and consequently Josue and the priests must have been there; and who would then officiate at the altar on Hebal? See Kennicott, who ably refutes the insinuations of the infidel, Collins, against the character of the Samaritans. When this altar was erected the learned are not agreed. H. --- Some say, immediately after the passage of the Jordan, and that the 12 stones taken from the bed of the river, were used for that purpose. Josephus says five years elapsed, and R. Ismael supposes that the altar was not built during the 14 years after the passage of the Jordan. But it is most probable that Josue complied with the command of God as soon as he had procured a sort of peace, (H.) by the conquest of these two cities, and was thus enabled to penetrate into the heart of the country, where Garizim was situated, not in the plain of Jericho, as Eusebius imagined, but near Sichem, (C.) about 30 or 40 miles to the north-west of Jericho. H.

Ver. 31. Iron. Spencer complains that the Prot. have not translated barzel, "iron tool," as Deut. xxvii. 5. This translation is found in their more ancient editions of 1537--49, &c. Ken. --- But the difference is very unimportant. The reason of this prohibition is given, Ex. xx. 25. --- He offered; so we read that he wrote, blessed and cursed, &c. because these things were done at least by his authority. It is not necessary to suppose that he engraved the words of the law with his own hands, or that he passed from Garizim, where he had been pronouncing the blessings, to Hebal, in order to denounce the curses. H. --- He probably commissioned some of the princes on Hebal to perform the office of cursing, after he had repeated the blessings himself from Garizim; and the select company of Levites before the ark, having answered or repeated the words, the whole multitude stationed at the foot of Hebal, giving their consent that the transgressors should be cursed. Ken. --- Hence Josue must have sacrificed by the hands of the priests. H. --- Various instances are produced to show that princes and prophets have, on extraordinary occasions, performed this office themselves, 1 K. vi. 15. and vii. 9. 3 K. xviii. 32. C. --- But these must have either received a dispensation from God, or they must have employed the ministry of the legal priests; or, in fine, their actions, like that of Saul, (1 K. xiii. 9,) of Absalom, (ib. i. 9,) Herod, &c. may have been deserving of blame. H. --- The Jews assert that in the desert no one was permitted to sacrifice, except in the tabernacle; but that this prohibition ceased at Galgal, as the ark had no fixed abode, and thus Josue might offer sacrifice himself. Afterwards the law was enforced, while the ark was at Silo. But upon its being removed to Nobe, Maspha, and Gabaon, people resumed their former liberty; and hence there was nothing to hinder Samuel, Saul, and David from offering sacrifice, till the temple was erected. Outram de Sac. i. 2. Grot. in Deut. xii. 8. This sacred office was formerly exercised by kings, particularly at Athens, where, after the people became more numerous, Theseus appointed the king of sacrifices to keep up the memory of the ancient practice. Demost. c. Neream. C. The like was done at Rome under the republic. H.

Ver. 32. Stones, of which the altar was formed, (C.) or on a separate monument, (Masius) consisting of two stones of black marble, so as to leave the letters prominent, and to fill up the vacuities with white plaster, that they might be seen more plainly, and might, at the same time, be more durable than if they had been only written on the cement, whatever some may have said of the tenacity of the ancient plaster. --- Deuteronomy, &c. or copy of the Decalogue which, by way of eminence, is called the law. Act. vii. 53. It is distinguished from the blessings and the curses; (v. 34,) and Moses referred to it, as already existing, (Deut. xxvii. 3. 8,) though the Book of Deuteronomy was not finished till afterwards. He might point to the very tables contained in the ark. "This law, consisting of only 16 verses, might easily be engraved on this solemn day; whereas to engrave the 80 verses of blessings and cursings, would be improbable; and engraving the Pentateuch, or indeed the Book of Deuteronomy, had been impossible." That the Decalogue was to be thus solemnly proclaimed is evident, from the Sam. text. Ex. xx. 18. Kennicott. --- This was the covenant which God had made with his people, (Deut. iv. 13,) and which Moses cautions the Israelites to observe; as upon their fidelity, their present and future happiness entirely depended. It was on this title alone that they could hold the land of Chanaan; and therefore Josue takes care thus publicly to admonish them of their duty. H. --- The Rabbins say that the whole Pentateuch was written on this occasion in 70 languages, that no nation might plead ignorance. But we can hardly believe that even the Book of Deuteronomy could be written, and read, and explained to the people, as that would require many days. C.

Ver. 33. Hebal. "Gerizim and Ebal, says Maundrell, p. 59, are separated by a narrow valley, not above a furlong broad; and Naplosa, (the ancient Sychem) consisting chiefly of two streets lying parallel, is built at the foot of, and under Gerizim." The princes, representing the different tribes, were stationed on these mountains, and the crowd at the foot of them, while a select company of Levites attended the ark in the midst, and repeated what the princes proclaimed, that the multitude might answer Amen, as they turned successively to them; (Kennicott) or the princes might answer Amen, from the top of the two hills. C. --- And first. Prot. "as Moses...had commanded before, that they should bless the people of Israel." But if Josue blessed them himself, (H.) all superiors might do so, as parents bless their children. W.

Ver. 34. Words. Heb. "words of the law, the blessings," &c. H.

Ver. 35. Repeated. Coverdale's Bible has "Josua caused it to be proclaimed." "It is very common in Scripture to represent a person as doing that which is done by another, in his name and by his authority." Kennicott. --- Josue might be in the midst to preside, (C.) or rather he would be along with the princes of the six tribes on Mount Garizim, v. 30. H. --- Thus the covenant entered into between God and the Israelites, was solemnly ratified when the latter first entered the promised land. The greatest part of those who had been present at Horeb had perished in the wilderness. C.

[madewithonerib]

Matthew 25:32-33 | ³² All the nations will be gathered before HIM, & HE will separate the people one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ HE will place the sheep on HIS right & the goats on HIS left.

Alex Duke | @_alexduke_ Feb.7/21

The GOAT²

If Brady wins another Super Bowl, he graduates from the GOAT of football (that’s already cemented) and becomes the GOAT² (the GOAT of GOATs, passing MJ, Gretzky, Tiger, Phelps, et al).

just learned meaning for the acronym yesterday, wonder is this reason why GOD hates goats? [Mt 25:32-33]

Charles John Ellicott, Theologian [1819–1905] | Matthew 25:32-33

    [32] Before him shall be gathered all nations—Better, all the            nations, or even better, perhaps, all the Gentiles.

    The word is that which, when used, as here, with the article,     marks out, with scarcely an exception, the heathen nations     of the world as distinguished from GOD’s people Israel     [as, e.g., in Romans 15:11-12; Ephesians 2:11].

    The word, thus taken, serves as the key to the distinctive     teaching that follows.

    We have had in this CH:

        [1] in the Wise & Foolish Virgins, the law of judgment for              all members of the Church of CHRIST;

        [2] in the Talents, that for all who hold any office or              ministry in the Church: now we have

        [3] the law by which those shall be judged who have lived              & died as heathens, not knowing the name of CHRIST,              & knowing GOD only as revealed in Nature or in the              law written in their hearts.

    Every stage in what follows confirms this interpretation.

2]  As a shepherd divides HIS sheep from the goats—Elsewhere     the shepherd’s work is the symbol of protective,     self-sacrificing love, and, as such,

                our LORD had emphatically claimed for                 HIMSELF the title of the Good Shepherd                 [John 10:14].

    Here we are reminded that even the shepherd has at times     to execute the sentence of judgment which involves separation.

    The “right” hand & the “left” are used, according to the laws of     what we might almost call a natural symbolism, as indicating     respectively good & evil, acceptance & rejection.

Joseph Benson, Methodist [1749–1821] | Matthew 25:32-33

1] Before HIM shall be gathered all nations—That is, all the     individuals of all nations & ages; not only all that are     found alive at the time of HIS appearing, & are changed     in a moment, & rendered immortal, that they may be     capable of enjoying eternal happiness, or of suffering     everlasting misery, but all that had ever lived from the     beginning to the end of time.

    All of every clime, country, & place, great & small, even     from the remotest corners of the world.

2] And HE shall separate them one from another—According     to their different characters, [which HE most perfectly knows]     with as much ease as a shepherd divides HIS sheep, which     belong to HIS flock, from the goats, which may be mingled     with them, & places them in distinct companies.

3] And HE shall set the sheep—The righteous, whom HE will     own as such, & who are termed sheep on account of their     innocence, meekness, & usefulness;

4] on HIS right hand—In token of HIS favour to them, & of the     further honours HE purposes to bestow upon them.

5] And the goats—That is, the wicked,

        called goats because of         the exorbitancy of their lusts;

6] on his left—To intimate HIS displeasure against them, &     their final removal from among HIS people; nor shall the     haughtiest & mightiest sinner be able to resist that     appointment by which he is placed in this situation.

        “I cannot imagine,” says Dr. Doddridge,         “a more magnificent image than this;

        the assembled world distinguished with         such unerring penetration, & distributed         into two grand classes, with as much         ease as sheep & goats are ranged by         a shepherd in different companies.”

    The wicked & the godly in this world dwell together in the     same kingdoms, cities, Churches, families, & are not with     certainty distinguishable always one from another:

    Such are the infirmities of saints, such the hypocrisies of     sinners, & one event frequently happening to both; but in     that day they will be separated & parted for ever:

        for the LORD both knows them that are HIS, &         them that are not, & HE can & will separate them:

        & the separation will be so exact, that the most         inconsiderable saint shall not be lost in the crowd         of sinners, nor the most plausible sinner hid in the         crowd of saints [Psalm 1:5];

    but every one shall go to his own place.

    Dr. Whitby thinks, that there is an allusion here to the     received custom of the Jews in capital causes, to place     them who are to be acquitted on the right hand, in the     sanhedrim,

        & those who were to receive the sentence         of condemnation, on the left.

Matthew Henry, Nonconformist [1662-1714] | Matthew 25:31-46

    This is a description of the last judgment.

    It is as an explanation of the former parables.

    There is a judgment to come, in which every man shall be     sentenced to a state of everlasting happiness, or misery.

    CHRIST shall come, not only in the glory of HIS FATHER,     but in HIS own glory, as Mediator.

    The wicked & godly here dwell together, in the same cities,     Churches, families, & are not always to be known the one     from the other;

                such are the weaknesses of saints, such the                 hypocrisies of sinners; & death takes both:

                but in that day they will be parted for ever.

    JESUS CHRIST is the great Shepherd; HE will shortly     distinguish between those that are HIS, & those that are not.

    All other distinctions will be done away; but the great one     between saints & sinners, holy & unholy, will remain for ever.

    The happiness the saints shall possess is very great.

    It is a kingdom; the most valuable possession on earth; yet     this is but a faint resemblance of the blessed state of the     saints in heaven.

    It is a kingdom prepared.

    The FATHER provided it for them in the greatness of HIS     wisdom & power; the SON purchased it for them; & the     blessed SPIRIT, in preparing them for the kingdom, is     preparing it for them.

    It is prepared for them: it is in all points adapted to the     new nature of a sanctified soul.

    It is prepared from the foundation of the world.

    This happiness was for the saints, & they for it, from all eternity.

    They shall come & inherit it.

    What we inherit is not got by ourselves.

    It is GOD that makes heirs of heaven.

    We are not to suppose that acts of bounty will entitle to     eternal happiness.

    Good works done for GOD's sake, through JESUS CHRIST,     are here noticed as marking the character of believers     made holy by the SPIRIT of CHRIST, &

        as the effects of grace bestowed         on those who do them.

    The wicked in this world were often called to come to     CHRIST for life & rest, but they turned from HIS calls;

    & justly are those bid to depart from CHRIST, that would     not come to HIM.

    Condemned sinners will in vain offer excuses.

    The punishment of the wicked will be an everlasting     punishment; their state cannot be altered.

    Thus life & death, good & evil, the blessing & the curse,     are set before us, that we may choose our way, & as     our way so shall our end be.

Albert Barnes, American Theologian [1798-1870] | Matthew 25:32-33

1] And before HIM..—At HIS coming to judgment the world will     be burned up, 2 Peter 3:10-12; Revelation 20:11.

2]  The dead in CHRIST that is, all true Christians—will be     raised up from their graves, 1 Thessalonians 4:16.

3] The living will be changed—i.e., will be made like the glorified     bodies of those that are raised from the dead     [1 Corinthians 15:52-54; 1 Thessalonians 4:17]

    All the wicked will rise & come forth to judgment     [John 5:28-29; Daniel 12:2; Matthew 13:41-42; Revelation 20:13]

    Then shall the world be judged, the righteous saved, & the     wicked punished.

4] And HE shall separate ..—Shall determine respecting their     character, & shall appoint them their doom accordingly.

Matthew Poole, Nonconformist [1624-1679] | Matthew 25:32-33

See Poole on "Matthew 25:33".

John Gill, Baptist & Calvinist [1697-1771] | Matthew 25:32-33

    And before HIM shall be gathered all nations.....

    That is, all that have professed the Christian religion in all     the nations of the world, whether Jews or Gentiles,     high or low, rich or poor, wise & foolish,

        such as have had greater or lesser talents;

    though it is also true of every individual of mankind of     every nation, tribe & family, of every sex, age, & state,     that ever has been, is, or will be.

    Yet Christian professors seem only here intended, as the     following distinction of them, their final state, &     the reasons of it show.

    This collection of them before CHRIST, the righteous judge,     will be made by the holy angels, who will come with HIM     for this purpose; & being mighty, as they are, will be able     to accomplish great a work; & especially as being under     the direction, influence, & authority of so divine, glorious,     & illustrious a person, as the SON of MAN will then     to all appear to be;

    And HE shall separate them one from another, as a     shepherd divides HIS sheep from the goats:

        they shall be gathered before HIM, as they were         together in their visible Church state, as being all         under a profession of religion;

                some wise, some foolish virgins; some sheep,                 & others goats; some industrious, diligent,                 faithful, & laborious servants;

                others wicked, slothful, & unprofitable ones;                 many of whom pass undistinguished &                 undiscovered now: but then the judge, who is of                 quick understanding, will easily discern the one                 from the other;

                such as have the oil of grace in                 the vessels of their hearts,

    together with their lamps, from such as have only the outward     visible lamp of a profession, but destitute of the grace of GOD;

    & good & faithful servants, who have made a right use of their     gifts, from such who have been negligent, careless, & remiss;

    & though these have been folded together,

    sheep & goats, in the sheepfold of the Church, where they     have all bore the character of the sheep of CHRIST;     yet now when the chief shepherd appears,

        who knows HIS own sheep, & calls them by name,         HE will as easily separate the one from the other,         & more so, than any shepherd, among men,         can part a flock consisting of sheep & goats.

    Hypocrites in Zion shall now be no more, nor sinners stand     any longer in the congregation of the righteous, nor both     together as one body, & on one side in judgment.

Geneva Study BIBLE, ‎Protestant Affiliation [1557-1560] | Matthew 25:32-33

    And before HIM shall be gathered all nations: & HE shall     separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides     HIS sheep from the goats:

biblehub.com/commentaries/matthew/25-32.htm twitter.com/_alexduke_/status/1358627444027228160

[johnchiarello]

Wednesday

WEDNESDAY 6-28-17

1 Peter 4:10

As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

 Ten Decades-

https://youtu.be/bKj6QJKdXMo

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-CF

.Beeville triple homicide

.New York cam

.How does God speak to us?

.Jason- Jammer- Mike- Paisley- Fat Boy [mentioned- not seen]

.Ten Decades- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBecM3CQVD8

.Jail Break- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRo3u04vY1E

1Corinthians 16:1 Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye.

 Dons pier- https://youtu.be/x8I-BhDDROk

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-CG

.Word from apostle Allen

.The collection FOR the saints

.Junior

.Jimmy D- Mando

Albert

.Mike and Bear

 45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.- Matt.

 Guitar Jason- https://youtu.be/4IVPpDHQmM4

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-CH

.Austin

.Jammer

.Fat Boy

.Paisley

.Imagine- Lennon [sung by Jason]

Proverbs 17:22 [Full Chapter]

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.

 Jammers request- https://youtu.be/mV5ZLEYmJog

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-CI

.If you know where Helen Pope is- please comment on this post- she moved from Temple- TX.- her son wants to find her- thanks

Matthew 5:13 [Full Chapter]

Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.

 Zechariah 10:1

Ask ye of the Lord rain in the time of the latter rain; so the Lord shall make bright clouds, and give them showers of rain, to every one grass in the field.

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

 NEW- [more verses below]

Today I saw lots of my friends- On the first video I mentioned that I saw Jason and Jammer [aka caveman] the other day when it was raining hard.

I never stopped to talk to Jason- just waved at him as I drove by- he waved back.

But I did stop and talk to Jammer- I mentioned I saw Jason earlier [the other day].

On the video titled ‘Guitar Jason’ Jason told me I must have seen someone else.

Jammer must have mentioned it to him.

It was no big deal- I thought I saw Jason.

 But that’s what put it in my head to give him the guitar [also prayer].

After I gave him the guitar and shut the video off- he told me his guitar just broke down- and the one he had with him was borrowed- so it came just in time.

That’s why it effected him- to see God provide.

 The guys- on their own- had real good fellowship- talking about their experiences- Furman sharing verses with Austin.

 But they were doing it on their own as I just hung out for the day.

That’s what matters.

 All of these guys know each other- but they don’t often talk about their real experiences with God among themselves.

But they have real experiences- things of value to build each other up.

 That’s what I liked the most- seeing them build each other up.

That’s it for today- hope you get something out of this roll out.

God bless- John

   NEWS-

http://www.mysoutex.com/beeville_bee_picayune/news/last-witness-missing/article_18661f3c-529a-11e7-85d3-9326dd7e13e0.html

http://www.kiiitv.com/news/local/beeville-triple-murder-charges-to-be-dropped/452632699

  PAST POSTS-

http://corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com/p/how-to-stop-addictive-behaviorfor-good.html

http://corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com/p/njnyc-2017.html

http://corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com/p/new-jersey-201516-i-made-these-videos.html

When I do videos/posts on Wednesday- I also pray and quote these specific portions of the addiction recovery writing I made years ago-

As you read today’s post- please pray and try and read thru the verses below-

In a spirit of prayer- praying them over all of our friends-

Thanks-  John

PRAYERS [read together at the start of the meeting]

1;

I confess to almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters- that I have sinned thru my own fault.

In my thoughts and in my words- in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.

And I ask Jesus Christ- and all my brothers and sisters- to pray for me to the Lord our God.

 2;

Our father who art in heaven- Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come- thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread- and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation- but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom and the glory and the power- now and forever- Amen.

 CONFESSIONS [repeat 3 times each]

 1;

I hate vain thoughts- but thy law do I love.

 2;

Commit thy works unto the Lord and thy thoughts will be established.

 3 PILLARS

 [Readings from Peter, James and John- either read together- or have one person read one ‘pillar’ each. The bible refers to these 3 men as spiritual pillars of the church]

1;

Gird up the loins of your mind and be sober and hope to the end for the grace that is being brought unto you at the appearing of Jesus Christ.

Abstain from fleshly lusts that war against the soul.

Those that have suffered in the flesh have ceased from sin- that they should no longer live the rest of their lives in the flesh to the lusts of men- but to the will of God.

 2;

Blessed is the man that endures temptation- for when he is tried- he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to those that love him.

Every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust- and enticed. And when lust has conceived it brings forth sin- and sin- when it is finished, brings forth death.

Resist the devil and he will flee from you- draw near unto God and he will draw near unto you. Cleanse your hands- ye sinners- and purify your hearts you double minded.

Be afflicted and mourn and weep- let you laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness- before that great and notable Day of the Lord.

 3;

Behold- a new commandment I give unto you- which thing is true in Him and in you- because the darkness has now passed- and the true light now shines.

Whosoever is born of God does not commit sin- but his word remains in him, and he cannot sin- because he is born of God.

This is how we know he hears us- because we keep his commandments and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.

   VERSES-

2 Corinthians 4:7

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

Isaiah 30:14

And he shall break it as the breaking of the potters' vessel that is broken in pieces; he shall not spare: so that there shall not be found in the bursting of it a sherd to take fire from the hearth, or to take water withal out of the pit.

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

Revelation 1:10

I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, and heard behind me a great voice, as of a trumpet,

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

Revelation 21:10

And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God,

In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Acts 16:31 And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.

31 When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:

32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:

33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.

34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

41 Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:

42 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?

45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.

46 And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.

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[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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The Sermon on the Mount

Click to read story lesson 

Matthew  ch 5-7

The Beatitudes

5:1 And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:

2 And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

3 Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

5 Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

6 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

7 Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

8 Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

10 Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

12 Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

Believers Are Salt and Light

13 Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.

14 Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

15 Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Christ Fulfills the Law

17 Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.

18 For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.

19 Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

20 For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Murder Begins in the Heart

21 Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment:

22 But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.

23 Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee;

24 Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.

25 Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison.

26 Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.

Adultery in the Heart

27 Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery:

28 But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.

29 And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

30 And if thy right hand offend thee, cut if off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

Marriage Is Sacred and Binding

31 It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement:

32 But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery.

Christ Forbids Oaths

33 Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths:

34 But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God's throne:

35 Nor by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great King.

36 Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black.

37 But let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.

Go the Second Mile

38 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:

39 But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.

40 And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also.

41 And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.

42 Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.

Love Your Enemies

43 Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.

44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;

45 That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

46 For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?

47 And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so?

48 Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

Do Good to Please God

6:1 Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.

2 Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

3 But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth:

4 That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.

The Model Prayer

5 And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.

7 But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.

8 Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.

9 After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.

10 Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

11 Give us this day our daily bread.

12 And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

13 And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

14 For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you:

15 But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

16 Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

Fasting to Be Seen Only by God

17 But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face;

18 That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.

Lay Up Treasures in Heaven

19 Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:

20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:

21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

The Lamp of the Body

22 The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

23 But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

You Cannot Serve God and Riches

24 No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

Do Not Worry

25 "Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Do Not Judge

7:1 Judge not, that ye be not judged.

2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.

3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

6 Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.

Keep Asking, Seeking, Knocking

7 Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:

8 For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

9 Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?

10 Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?

11 If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?

12 Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.

The Narrow Way

13 Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:

14 Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

You Will Know Them by Their Fruits

15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?

17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.

19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

I Never Knew You

21 Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.

22 Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?

23 And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.

24 Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:

25 And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.

26 And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:

27 And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

28 And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings, the people were astonished at his doctrine:

29 For he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.



[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 1

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.  

Rating: Mature Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Canon typical violence, death, gun use, angst. Jack has a temper and Tequila has a dumb first name.  Summary: A mission gone wrong ends with disastrous consequences for Jack, but Champ has a plan. A plan to change your life forever. Notes: Welcome to soulmate story number six, everyone! I’m so, so excited to dive in here because I adore Jack. Keri and I are moving ahead with full steam on this story and we can’t wait to see what you all think of it!

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

Statesman, the independent intelligence agency, probably has some of the most up-to-date intel that anyone could ever want. Most times. Right now, that isn't the case. Ducking down behind a flipped over table, Jack – Agent Whiskey – rips off the broken frames of the glasses that not only fed him information but also scanned anyone for weapons and allowed his oversight team to see what he was seeing. A little bit of 'through the looking glass' magic.

"Now, damnit Ginger, I'm not trying to be difficult, but I need to know how the fuck to get out of here." Jack growls into the minuscule microphone that is imbedded into the earpiece that allowed her to talk directly into his ear. He glances at a body that is laying nearby, limbs sprawled with his eyes open and lifeless. The target that he had been after but someone else had started shooting up the place before he could reach him.

“You’ve been made, Whiskey, you need to get out of there.” It might be a little bit of stating the obvious, but Ginger’s even tone comes through his ear piece loud and clear. “What’s your clearest exit?”

"Does it look like I know?" Jack huffs, rolling his eyes even though the Statesman tech couldn't see him as he takes a chance and sticks his head up to scan the area for the nearest exit. The rapid burst of gunfire makes him duck back down, wood from the table splintering above his Stetson. "Southeast corner."

“Get out through the kitchen.” Ginger orders, clicking through floor plans and security cameras at her desk at lightning speed. “Through the kitchen, out the delivery bay doors, and left when you hit the alley. That will put you in the parking lot. Grab a car and get to the hell back to the Silver Pony.” The end of this mission has gotten messier than Champ will like, and extraction is their best option until a new strategy can be decided on. It’s ugly, but it happens sometimes. That’s one of the hazards of their line of work.

"Copy." Jack hunches down a little more when another barge of gunfire erupts, this time he feels the tug of a bullet as it tears through the wood and punches a hole through his hat. "Didn't think y'all'd give me a second." He grumbles, reaching for the pair of pearl handled .44 revolvers that are tucked into his holsters. Flipping them easily by the trigger guards as more of a habit than anything else, the weight of them is familiar and steady in his hands.

"Gonna hit the sprinklers and fire alarms in five seconds, Jack." The warning is the best Ginger can do for him, knowing that the ensuing chaos will confuse and disorient the enemies shooting at Jack and give him just a few seconds to get across the room while they adjust to something new happening around them. "Five...four...three...two...one!"

The distraction is just the window that he needs. Springing out from behind the compromised cover to start shooting. Jack's aim is true, taking down two of the people shooting at him with quick pulls of the triggers under his fingers. Three pounds of pressure to pull the hammer back and fire, custom designed for him for better rate of fire in a pinch. Those targets down, Jack starts to dash through the spraying water, the alarms starting to blare out to warn of a fire that isn't there but the system thinks it is.

The double doors into the hotel kitchen slam open, expelling Jack into the crowded, overheated room full of clamoring cooks getting ready for dinner service. A radio blaring in one corner and more than a dozen people shouting to each other had covered most of the noise of gunshots, but there's no mistaking their surprise when the mustachioed cowboy falls through the doors into their domain.

Jack’s eyes are darting around the room, seeking out a potential threat and when he doesn’t find one, he starts running for the door on the opposite side of the long galley.

Most people jump out of the way, some brandishing the knives in their hands as defensive weapons and others hide behind prep tables. The blaring alarm has now made its way to the kitchen, and everyone not cowering or weakly defending themselves is now trying to cover the food they have been cooking from being destroyed by the water splashing down from the ceiling. There is shouting and chaos, but no one dares to stop the cowboy running at full speed down the length of the kitchen.

“Ginger!” Jack shouts, even though he doesn’t have to as he pushes out of the doors that lead to the dock and loading bay. “Where to—” His words break off as he sees the glint of a gun out of the corner of his eye, reacting without even hesitating. Twirling around and his weapons fire on instinct.

"Jack?" Ginger's voice echoes in his ear as the man whirls around to see two bodies drop to the pavement behind him. One had a gun outstretched, the crisp lines of his suit wrinkled under the force of the shot that sent him falling backward. The other pitched into the wall before he fell – chef's jacket stained crimson with his own blood. "Jack! Are you hit?" She asks, voice more determined and edging on nervous.

Jack’s blood rushes to his ears, making Ginger sound like she is underwater. Or maybe it’s him that is drowning. It’s suddenly hard to breath, the seeming sucked from his lungs as he sways on his feet for a heart stopping moment. The impact of what he has just done crashing over him.

“Jack? Jack!” Ginger’s voice in his ear makes his vision sharpen from where it had gone fuzzy, bringing him back to the moment.

“Ginger Ale.” Jack chokes out. “I—shit, I just shot a civilian.”

"Shit." For a woman who rarely ever curses, the impact of it doubles coming from Ginger. "Get out of there, Jack. I'll send in Gamma Team to clean up. But I don't want you being part of the cleanup. You hear me?"

A civilian. Shit. Champ is going to be furious.

******

“Jason Howe, 36, born in Northwood, New Hampshire on April 4th.”

Jack winces and curls his hand into a fist as he stands in front of the conference room table. Not having been invited to sit, nor to have the glass of ‘67 Statesman Reserve that Champ has sitting in a glass at his elbow. A drink that Jack desperately needs. “Champ, there was a gun.” Jack defends, although he knows it’s a weak excuse. Statesmen take out the bad guys, not hurt the innocent. And Jack’s killed a bystander who had nothing to do with anything.

"You've been off since Cambodia, Jack." And although Champ knows exactly why, it can't be considered an excuse. He looks back down at the file on the conference table and frowns, then keeps reading. "Two siblings. Parents both living. Soulmate so far unknown." The older man looks up, locking his eyes on Jack. "We're tracking her down."

“Why?” Jack demands, frowning at the mere idea. Statesman had never tracked down a soulmate of anyone before, why start now? “We don’t know who it is, or if they care.” He scoffs. “Better to let sleepin’ dogs lie.”

“I don’t blame you for not noticing.” Champ sighs and shakes his head before finally motioning for Jack to sit. The man is his best senior agent, his quickest set of reflexes, and his closest friend. Frankly, Champ is worried about the upheaval in Jack’s life lately. It’s affecting his perception on a base level, not to mention his work. “You didn’t come out of that fire fight unscathed, and your adrenaline was too damn high for the pain to get through to you.” Running one hand down his face, Champ huffs slightly as he sips from his own whiskey glass but still doesn’t offer Jack any. “The back of your right arm. Just above your elbow. You have a new mark, Jack.”

“Bullshit.” Jack spits, furious at the implication of what Champ is saying. “My soulmate is dead.” He reminds the older man, as if he wasn’t well aware. Hell, Champ was the one who had recruited Jack to Statesman, so he was well aquatinted with his backstory. Until this moment, he would have called the man a friend. Maybe his best friend, even though Tequila likes to claim that’s his title. “Been dead and gone for years. So there ain’t no marks on my body.”

“I don’t mean to say anything against her memory.” Champ holds up one hand in a defensive posture. With the other, he gestures to the large mirror on the conference room wall. “Roll up your sleeve and take a look for yourself. Ginger noted the appearance of scars from minor cuts and bruises and a small tattoo on your arm. None of these marks were found on the civilian that was killed or any of the other dead men that Gamma Team cleaned from the scene. Following protocols, we’re now tracking down any and all soulmates and searching databases for your exact set of new marks.” He knows it isn’t good news. It isn’t good for the agency, and it isn’t good for Jack. But, despite it being a long shot, it is now more likely than not that someone out there shares these marks with him. And that makes her both a liability and a potential target. Whoever she is.

Fuck.” Jack hisses bitterly, his shoulders jerking as he shuffles out of his sports coat and tosses it down so he can start rolling up his sleeve. “Can’t Ginger remove it?” He demands, not wanting marks on his body. He hasn’t had any since the day Abigail died and he doesn’t want some other woman’s scars or tattoos on his skin either. He doesn’t have a soulmate and he doesn’t want one.

“Soulmate scars don’t work like that.” He knows Jack knows it, but he also understands the younger man’s distress as he tears his sleeve back to inspect his skin. “As far as Ginger’s nanites are concerned, that’s just your skin. No imperfections about it.”

“Who gets a goddamn tattoo on the back of their elbow?” Jack growls, twisting his arm around before he catches sight of the ink. “I don’t want another soulmate. This needs to be broken.” Tattoos and scars were things that could get an agent killed. Identifying marks, things that nanites fixed to conceal their real identities. Even agent’s soulmates had their scars removed if they were together.

“How exactly do you propose to do that?” Champ asks, raising one incredulous eyebrow at his friend. “Soulmate bonds are only broken by death, Jack. You know that as well as anyone. So unless you’re intendin’ on killing this girl just for existing, I’m afraid you’re shit out of luck.”

For one horrifying split second, Jack considers it. In his grief and rage at having his original soulmate, his wife, he thinks about killing another innocent person. “Jesus Christ.” He manages, body sagging and slumping in disgust at himself and overwhelming sadness. “I— I can’t—” Looking helplessly up at Champ, his eyes are filled with pain. “I can’t be someone else’s soulmate.”

“No one’s askin’ you to drop everything and bring whoever this woman is back to the ranch and start your life over.” At this, and Jack’s defeated shoulders, Champ finally pours two fingers of ‘67 Reserve into a clean glass and slides it across the table to Jack. “We’re gonna find her, and she’s gonna be under Statesman protection. That’s how we’re gonna handle this to start out with. Until we know more about her, the best thing we can do for your safety and hers is keep her close.”

“Why the fuck was this Jason Howe outside?” Jack snatched up the glass, pissed that because of one cook’s inability to be in the damn kitchen where he belonged, he’s burdened with a soulmate he doesn’t want. Is he victim blaming and deflecting? Yes, he is. But he doesn’t care right now. The whiskey burns on the way down and Jack sighs in appreciation of that fact.

“Smoke break.” Champ shrugs, knowing that why doesn’t really matter. “Gamma found his DNA on two cigarette butts nearby.”

There’s a sarcastic comment about how smoking kills somewhere rattling around in his brain, but Jack can’t bring himself to voice it. Not when he knows he is to blame, he had reacted and didn’t take a split second to make sure it wasn’t someone innocent nearby. He had done this and it weighs heavily. Nearly as heavy as his wife’s death and he hadn’t been directly responsible for that - though he felt guilty.

Shifting back in his chair, Champ surveys the agent in front of him as an agent rather than his friend, and he drains the rest of his glass in one go. “You have to come out of the field for a while,” he tells Jack firmly. There’s no room for debate here. “Psych eval, incident investigation, and that mark on your arm all have to be addressed before we can get you back out.”

Jack’s jaw rocks, immediately wanting to argue but he knows Champ. There’s no getting around this. He’ll be out of the field until the man gives his stamp of approval and not a moment before. “Had no problem throwing out the Golden Circle but now this is a problem?” He growls, stomping around the table to snatch a bottle of Statesman ‘72 off the bar cart. “Let me know when I gotta talk to the head doctors. Until then, I’m drinkin’.”

“I can’t get you out of this one because I threw my weight around on the Golden Circle case.” Champ huffs, not wanting to cause a fight but ready to have this conversation if need be. “I’m not worried ‘bout you passing, Jack. It’s just gotta get done.” The real concern is the black ink on the back of his arm – a hearts playing card with a teacup where the ace would be and the words ‘Curioser and curioser’ encircling it. While he carries that mark, he’s a danger in the field.

Snorting, Jack turns on his heel, grabbing his jacket off the chair and flicking a mocking two finger salute at Champ. “Sure thing, Champagne,” he huffs, knowing how much the full code name chosen for him irritates him. “I’m on desk duty.”

Champ huffs again, annoyed at Jack for being seemingly even less mature than Tequila in realizing that this isn’t a punishment, it’s caution. “And you’ll stay that way,” he grumbles as the door slams shut behind Whiskey’s retreating figure. “Goddamn stubborn donkey’s ass.”

Jack’s boots slap against the floors as he stomps down the hall. Several agents sidestep and move on the other side, warily eyeing the fierce scowl on his face.

The sound is unmistakable, and Tequila has been waiting to hear it since Jack had reported to Champ a half hour ago. He situated himself in Jack’s office almost immediately after, not really knowing what would happen but figuring that his friend might want to rant about something or go for a drink after. Civilians don’t exactly get caught in the crossfire every day – and Jack takes that kind of thing personally.

The door swings open and Jack pins Tequila with a hard stare. “Get out.” He huffs, striding over to the desk and slamming the bottle down on the hundred year old oak before he turns around to his own wet bar to get a glass.

“Guessin’ Champ ain’t too happy?” Tequila stands from the chair he had been occupying but makes no movement to leave. He’s known Whiskey too long and thinks too well of him to just up and abandon the man.

Jack doesn’t answer, grabbing the cut crystal glass and setting it down a little too forcefully before he picks up the bottle to pull the cork out and pours himself a double.

“Takin’ that as a ‘no, he ain’t’.” Stretching awkwardly, Tequila crosses his arms and watches Jack for a few seconds before he tries again. “There’s a couple of new girls leading tours who’ve been hinting at wanting dates,” he offers, knowing that that usually perks the older agent up a little. “We could blow off some steam tonight?” Mostly he’s just not sure that leaving Jack alone is going to be good in any way.

“Not interested.” Jack grunts, stomach rolling with guilt and anger. “God damnit!” He slams the glass down on the desk and his hand shoots out to sweep the neatly stacked files off the desk to scatter across the floor. Not like he wouldn’t have time to reorganize them anyway.

“Shit, Jack. What the fuck did Champ say?” Whiskey might have a temper, sure, but he usually just blows off his steam at the firing range or with a one-night stand. He’s not the type to go destroying things for fun or catharsis. Tequila steps forward warily, like he’s dealing with a spooked horse instead of his upset friend. “You know you can tell me. We can figure shit out.”

“There’s no ‘figuring it out’, Tex.” Jack snarls, well aware of the fact that Tequila hates his given name and prefers to go by his code name. “Apparently I inherited the civilian’s soulmate.”

“Fuuuck…” Tequila’s jaw drops so hard that his ass ends up back in the chair he has been sitting in only a minute ago. “How the hell does that happen?”

“Fuck if I know.” Jack blows out, reaching up to start unbuttoning his shirt. He needs to examine himself to see what other fucking marks this mystery woman has ‘gifted’ him with.

“Second soulmates are supposed to be a myth…” Anybody who knows a single thing about Jack Daniels knows about Abigail, and the fact that he lost her more than twenty years ago. A bit like anyone who knows him knows he was a rodeo man.

“Second soulmates are lies you tell the poor son of a bitch who’s burying his sweetheart.” Jack spits bitterly, remembering the bullshit people had spouted at him in the name of making him ‘feel better’. It hadn’t worked. “Not needed or wanted.”

“Looks like they ain’t lies at all.” Tequila hunches forward in his seat when Jack peels away his shirt and makes a noncommittal sound at the black-inked image on the back of his arm. “Weird place for it,” he comments, inching closer to get a better look.

“Fucking stupid is what it is.” Had Jack been admiring the tattoo on a woman, one he had in bed or aiming to get into bed, his opinion would have been different. But this was ink on his body. Even the tattoo he had gotten after Abigail and Tim died had to be removed when he joined Statesman.

Tequila squints a second before letting out a half-hearted chuckle. “It’s Alice in Wonderland,” he informs the other man once he remembered what the damn quote was all about. “Guess she likes to read.”

“Champ wants to find this woman.” Jack huffs, rolling his eyes and looking towards the mirror that is attached to the bathroom door. Looking for anything else.

“You don’t?” He probably sounds more surprised than he is, but if it were him - Tequila would sure as hell want to find the woman the universe says he’s supposed to love and cherish for the rest of his life. Even if all he had was a platonic soulmate, he would still want to know them. To have that connection and closeness. A friend that means so much they become his family. “Not sayin’ you hafta marry her, Jack, but damn. I mean…she’s got a target painted on her now if anyone ever finds out. Shouldn’t Statesman keep her safe?”

If it was anyone else, Jack would say that the protection of Statesman was necessary, but he can’t bring himself to say it. He knows that Champ and Tequila are right, this person – whoever she is – deserves to be safe because of who he is. Instead of answering, Jack pours himself another drink.

“Right.” Nodding at Jack’s silence, Tequila adjusts his Stetson and raps his knuckles once on the large oak desk. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?” It’s the end of the day and he’s presuming that Jack will be drinking his supper tonight. Which is a fair bet, all things considered.

There’s defeat in Jack’s stance, unable to gather his thoughts properly. Work was easy, it didn’t involve his heart and this was everything to do with it. When Jack still says nothing, Tequila stands and turns to move towards the door. “What does it say?” Jack asks quietly, staring down at the empty glass and wishing he was already wasted. “That I’ve got marks on my body again? What does it say about my love for my wife?”

“I don’t know what it says about her,” Tequila admits, turning again to face his friend. “But I think it says that you deserve a chance to be happy again. And from everything you’ve ever told me about Abigail?” He shrugs slightly, glancing down at the framed photograph of the two of them that he knows Jack keeps in pristine condition on his desk at all times. “Seems to me she’d be more upset at you closin’ yourself off than at the universe givin’ you an ass kicking.”

Shame fills Jack, knowing that Tequila had hit the nail on the head. Abby woulda torn into his hide for the thoughts he had about this new soulmate without ever meetin her. Or setting his beautiful, fiery wife up on a pedestal.

“You don’t have to do anything about it.” Tequila says again, knowing that most people in the world see their soulmate as their mandatory partner. Their person as ordained by the universe. Jack had already had that, and it’s not hard to see that he doesn’t find a repeat experience to be necessary. “But at least let Champ protect her. She didn’t ask for this anymore than you did.”

“It’s my fault.” Jack murmurs already pouring another three fingers of whiskey and staring at it for a moment before he takes another swallow. “I killed her soulmate, so the universe is punishing me. Punishing us both.”

“It ain’t a punishment necessarily.” Sensing the tide turning in the conversation, Tequila drops his hat on the side of Jack’s desk and grabs himself a glass before sitting down again. “Not all soulmates are romantic, and not all soulmates are perfect. Maybe you inherited her marks so you can protect her? Who knows.”

There it is. The crux of the problem. “Can’t protect her. Don’t even know her.” Jack huffs. “Couldn’t protect the woman I loved. The woman I would die for. Shoulda died for.” He would have traded places with her in an instant if it meant Abby and Sam were safe and still roaming the earth. It would have been the easiest decision he’s ever made.

“Then stay away.” The younger man suggests instead. Pouring himself a short drink and sitting back, he offers Jack a shrug. “Let Champ protect her once he finds her, and don’t tell her who you are. What you are to her. Let her live her life. I don’t pretend to have the answers, man. But I can help you piece this whole thing out.”

Staying away sounds like a solid plan. “I’ll be back out in the field anyway.” He rationalizes, imagining that it will be just a week or two before Champ needs him. Who’s to say that this woman even wants a soulmate? She hadn’t found the Jason Howe fella. “Sometimes that bean between your ears actually works.” Jack grunts with a whisper of a grin.

“Don’t worry.” That gets a hearty laugh from the younger man, and Tequila raises his glass in salute before he takes a sip. “I won’t let it go to my head.”

Jack snorts and drowns the rest of his drink and pours himself another before he slides the bottle towards Tequila. “Good.” He jokes. “Otherwise your hat won’t fit.”

******

By every Monday morning you’re always dragging. The restaurant was packed with reservations all weekend long and you probably burned off another fingerprint trying to do the sugar work for the dark chocolate salted caramel tarts that chef insisting on adding to the menu ahead of the new year. They’re beautiful, and delicious, but sugar work is tricky with an overblown wind bag shouting over your shoulder all night. The house is bustling this morning, though, and you have your niece on your hip while you sip your morning coffee and your mother in the other room is singing songs with your nephew. The dog is somewhere, the cat is on the windowsill, and your sister is finally getting her morning shower in after getting up early with the kids because they wanted to see Daddy off to work. There’s enough going on that you almost didn’t even hear your cell phone ring in your pocket. Almost.

Champ taps the file that Ginger had given to him, listening to the ringing in his ear. The soulmate had been found, surprisingly quickly to his delight. While it was assumed that no one knew about the soulmate connection between this woman in the packet and his senior field agent, but never guaranteed. Now he just needs to pitch the winning game to get her to Kentucky.

You almost don't pick up - who would be calling you from Louisville, Kentucky? - but eventually decide that you're curious enough to answer. At the worst you'll have a two-minute conversation with a telemarketer. There are worse things in the world. "Hello?" You press your phone to your ear and shift your niece a little higher on your hip with your other hand.

Clearing his throat, Champ says your name jovially. “Champ Rogers here, happy to get you on the phone, how are you doing this fine morning, darlin’?” Some might take offense to the antiquated word of endearment, but he has a feeling you won’t.

"I'm doing well, thanks." The funny face you make at the one-year-old hugging your side makes it almost sound like you're laughing, the smile coming through in your voice. "I'm not sure I know who you are, though, Mr. Rogers. What can I do for you?"

“Apologies, miss.” Champ shakes his head at himself chuckles. He knows a lot more about you than you do him, although that’ll change if he can help it. “I’m lookin’ for a pastry chef and the head hunter I’ve paid more money than God handed me your resume and said you’d be a good fit.”

"Oh!" Well, that's unexpected. Your head nearly snaps up from sticking your tongue out at your favourite little girl and a frown wrinkles your forehead a second later. "And...where did you say you were calling from?" He didn't, but you don't want to be rude. If he's looking for a personal pastry chef or a one-time catering gig, then Kentucky is a little far for you to travel.

“Kentucky, ma’am.” Champ spins around in his chair and looks out from the top of the infamous bottle that houses his office down at the distillery below. “I run a little outfit called Statesman.” Technically Jack’s CEO on paper, but Champ has final say.

"Statesman like the distillery?" Like your father's favourite whiskey that he's been drinking your entire life and there's always a bottle in the house at all times? Statesman is head hunting you? "Without meaning to seem rude, why exactly would a distillery need a pastry chef?"

Smart as a whistle. Champ grins, delighted that Jack’s new soulmate seems to have a firm head on her shoulders. “Well, we have a little tour operation here. We have around one point three million folks file through our distillery, and I’ve been wantin’ to jazz it up a bit. Offer more than just peanuts with the whiskey tasters.”

"I see." Leaning back against the counter, you lean over and press a kiss to your niece's thin hair while you chew on your bottom lip. It is a hell of an offer, but it seems like it's coming out of left field. Not that you're going to complain about being sought after - that would be the epitome of looking a gift horse in the mouth - and honestly you're pretty damn curious. "What exactly did you have in mind, Mr. Rogers?"

Champ winces at the formality and the way the use of his legal title sits wrong on him, like an ill-fitting hat. “Pastries. Cakes and creams that use our whiskey. Fruit tarts and those little sandwiches. Somethin’ that’ll make the womenfolk happy and I’ve got a space that I want to have set up to make it an experience they can’t get anywhere but Statesman.”

"You want to have...boozy tea party food?" It's so hard not to sound excited when that's right up your alley with the exact kind of baking you already love to do. "Well, I certainly appreciate the call." And since you've never been head hunted before in your entire fucking life, you really don't know what could possibly come next. "And the position you're looking to fill is...an assistant? Sous chef?" There's no way one of the biggest distilleries in the entire country is calling to offer you a brand new executive chef position making your dream food. That would be insane.

“I don’t know what a Sous chef is.” Champ huffs, his accent butchering the word. “I want someone to run the damn thing. Make up the menus to make mouths water.” He feels like your interest might not be enough to get you here. “Tell you what?” Champ grins. “How ‘bout I send the jet to pick you up and you come on over to the distillery and see what you’d be workin’ with?” He offers. “Take the tour, see the space I want to turn into a restaurant and we can see if you think it’s a good fit?”

"The j-jet?" You stutter out the word in disbelief, eyes flying up to catch your mother's as she walks into the kitchen with your nephew in tow – only to immediately give him the quiet signal a second later when she sees you on your phone. "I, uh—" Breathe, you remind yourself aggressively. "I assume you'll want to see what I can do, as well? A headhunter is all well and good, Mr. Rogers, but if you're going to show me your space, I should at least be making you a few sample recipes while I'm there." It's all so much to take in and you're nearly overwhelmed at the enormity of it. This sounds like a dream. Way, way too good to be true.

“Please, call me Champ.” He insists, almost pained at hearing the name his father had been called for years. “Tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen. I’ll send you an email, how’s that sound? When do you think you could be here? Jet can be where you are in three hours.” The mention of a private jet always impresses, and he notices it had an effect on you.

"Well...I do have some flexible time at the moment." Two days off from the restaurant in a row is what you've got, and your mind is buzzing with possibilities. "Three hours should be enough to prep a list and book a hotel in Louisville for a night." It will be the most expensive job interview you've ever taken, but really? You can't see passing this up. If nothing else, you'll get to take the distillery tour and bring a bottle back to your dad for his bar. An unexpected trip could be fun.

“Pishaw.” Champ scoffs. “No need for you to book a hotel, there’s a residence on the grounds where we can put you up. It would be yours if you accept the job.” He smirks at the idea.

"You're kidding." It escapes your lips before you can stop yourself, and you would facepalm if you had a free hand. "Out of curiosity, Champ," the informality would never fly in your restaurant kitchen, but you actually prefer it. "What exactly would this position pay?"

“Well darlin’,” Champ admires a woman who gets down to brass tacks. “Considerin’ you’d be responsible for the menu and the runnin’ of the kitchens, I was thinking that we would start you out at 90 with a guaranteed half a percent of all profits per quarter.” Champ offers off the top of his head. He’d only glanced at the baseline salary for an executive chef when he had thought of this – though it was a good idea. “How’s that sound?”

With your phone jammed between your cheek and your shoulder and reach for your mother, gripping her hand so tightly she actually flinches as your eyes nearly bug out of your head. The base line salary you were just quoted is more than twice what you're making now, and it would have profits on top of it, and it even comes with guaranteed housing. "That sounds...like a salary that comes with a lot of responsibility," you admit, when you can finally form a damn word on your own lips again. "You go ahead and send an email with the full job description and offer, and I will send you back a list of supplies to give you a fair view of what I can do. We'll see if my abilities fall in line with your vision for the next step forward at Statesman."

“That sounds like a fine plan.” Champ leans back in his chair, sure that he’s reeled you in. “I’ll be seeing you soon, ya hear?” He hangs up the phone and starts to chuckle to himself as he looks down at your picture in the file. Poor Jack is in for a rude awakening.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." The second your phone beeps and disconnects, you stare at it like a ghost has just popped out of it before looking back up at your mother in wonder. "I just...got a job offer. For the most insane job of all time." Shoving the electronic back into your pocket, you shift your niece in your arms and place a kiss on her little head before setting her down in her highchair at the kitchen table and slumping down beside her to grab your now-cold coffee. "Oh my god."

“What in the world is going on?” Moving over to the coffee maker, your mother reaches for her own cup. It’s a routine that you two have coffee while she watches the babies for your sister.

"Apparently a head hunter got a hold of my resume and passed it on to the head of the Statesman Distillery in Kentucky." It's the most unbelievable sentence you've ever said in your life, and you fall back in your chair with a dazed look on your face. "They want to expand their food offerings for tours and events, apparently? They want me to go down there and look at the facility. Mom...that phone call was offering me an executive position."

“An executive position? To do what? Run the bakery?” Your mom turns and leans against the counter so she can sip on her black coffee. “To develop recipes?”

"Develop the entire menu, run the bakery, help roll out this whole new entertaining program for the distillery." Cold coffee is still coffee, and you drink yours slowly just so you don't choke on the drink your excitement. "The job comes with on premises housing and pays more than twice what I make now." The number he quoted is enough to boggle your mind all over again. "They're sending a private jet to pick me up and bring me down there for this interview and lord I hope this is not just some weird scam."

Your mom’s eyes widen and she frowns. “I – you should call the distillery. Ask some questions to make sure. Who sends a jet for a chef?” She doesn’t mean to sound harsh, but it strikes her as extremely odd.

"It sounds too good to be true." Your shoulders drop, and your eyes track down to stare into your coffee. "He's supposed to be sending me an e-mail with flight info and the job offer. It either won't come through or it'll be fake. But at least then I'll have two days off to wallow in the amazing job I almost had."

As if to argue, your phone dings with an email notification. Your mom sighs. “Sweetie— I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so negative. I don’t know how this works in big corporations.” She feels guilty, like she’s stolen your happiness away and you deserve all the joy you can find.

"No, you're just being realistic." Neither of your parents are particularly negative people. You'd call them realistic optimists, if you had to give it a title. They always try to look at the best parts of very practical situations. You pull your phone from your pocket and tap on the e-mail, studying it carefully for any signs of fraud or imitation. "What do you think?" You ask your mother, turning your cell around to let her read what just came through. Decades in journalism have given her a pretty good eye for detective work.

She studies the email carefully and looks up at you. “This looks legitimate.” She admits after a moment, a smile cracking her face. “Keep your phone on you, check in with us, but I think you should go for it.”

"He wants me to make four samples for the interview." Taking your phone back, you can feel the excitement rising all over again. There's nerves there, and a little bit of fear of the unknown, but mostly a giddy amount of glee rising from the tips of your toes all the way up to the top of your head. Moving a thousand miles away from your family for a job wasn't exactly a possibility on your radar, but if this job is for real? You'd be foolish not to do it. "I guess...I guess I need to figure out what I'm going to make and send off a supply list and then pack."

“You go do that.” Your mom takes your coffee cup and grins at you. Would she miss you if you took the job? Absolutely. But this is too good of a chance for you to get out of your current restaurant. “Just think— your own kitchen where no one can yell at you.”

"And if that isn't the dream, I don't know what is." With hugs and kisses for your niece and nephew, you start to hustle out of the room but stop in the living room doorway and turn back around. "What do you think about doing Grandma Jane's coconut cake as cupcakes and adding bourbon to the cream cheese frosting?" If Statesman wanted booze in their desserts, you sure as hell weren't going to pass up the chance to present it with the family's coveted cake recipe.

“If they don’t give you the job based on that alone, they are fools.” Your mother huffs, giving you an encouraging smile. “You’ll knock them dead.”

______ 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 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3

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[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.

______

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[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 16

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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