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starshipsofstarlord · 8 months

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Somebody That I Used To Know

Summary-> The Salvatores call Y/N Mikaelson for aid, however they don’t expect for her to have a history with Kai Parker (4k)

Warnings-> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, porn with plot, mentions of death, blood drinking, swearing, fluff & angst, mentions of bad parenting and adultery, mentions of child abuse and imprisonment

kai parker works other tvd works main masterlist

Kai had never been a romantic, that much was blatantly obvious, or so he told himself. To even think about being in love opened a wound inside of him, and it refused to heal. He had been raised in hell before his family sent him to an isolation that was impossible for him to escape, however they had never expected or anticipated intruders to enter his coven crafted prison world, but the improbable became possible when the other side fell. And now he was free, to an extent, with supervision of course.

Stefan rushed into the room with urgency in his steps, bearing news as he reached his brother - and Kai. They tolerated him, after all the evil-doings he had spewed in the form of massacres, realising that now he was a heretic he had some use other than drinking magic like a drug addict fiending for a hit. Things were always tense when his magic was required, but the group of supernatural heroes (and Matt unfortunately) understood that to protect the town indefinitely, his troublesome hand definitely helped. Though he wasn’t one of them, his singular use other than being a pest was to be a weapon. It was ironic really considering they had stopped, or at least tried, him from killing his family, and now he was doing their bidding murdering at their beck and call.

“Y/n’s on her way, she would have been here sooner but there was some trouble in New Orleans that she had to resolve.” The name of the woman that Stefan was referring to struck a fragile, hard to find nerve in Kai’s erratic brain, he had known a woman by the same name a long time ago… She had been unstoppable, as any original vampire would be. Y/n Mikaelson, a dead beauty whom was one of a kind, she had seen an endless variety of monsters in her achingly long life, and unlike everyone else that Kai had known, she didn’t see him as one.

He was just a man, and she was- walking in the Salvatore home apparently? It couldn’t be, be surely had to be hallucinating. The last time that he had seen her, she had bid him goodbye, promising to see him the following day, when in reality he didn’t. Klaus had staked her with a pale dagger, catching her beautiful and dormant corpse in an old fashioned casket, taking her comatosed body half way across the globe. He saw the scene of her struggle, but not her. Kai was speechless, he never thought he’d see her again, when they had met he had just been a siphon, and now he was more like her than he’d ever imagined.

Their eyes locked and time stood still for a moment, before she gave him a cold shoulder, turning her attention to the Salvatores, Stefan less than amused with her appearance. Kai hardly noticed but she was drenched from head to toe in blood, her skin flooded by the remnants of her victims. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m here, aren’t I?” Damon quirked a brow at the original which caused the old one to huff out an exaggerated sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I had to do to get here to save your asses, so I’m not even going to bother. So what’s first on the agenda?”

“You can take a shower, you know where it is.” Damon nodded his head at her, and Kai was inclined to squint at the interaction but decided it best not to pry in case he discovered something he’d rather not have. Y/n turned on her heel and contently plodded up the stairs within the mansion, leaving red footsteps in her wake, luring Kai to follow her trail. He stood, beginning on his journey to know the reason for her ignorance of him, he wanted to understand the pain that he felt that was unlike any other that he had experienced.

Surely she couldn’t have forgotten him, it had been a long time for him, but in relation to those she had lived, it would have been as though they had met yesterday. The younger of the two Salvatore brothers stepped forward, wanting to severe Kai’s secret mission into a failure of efforts, however Damon held his arm out, silently ordering Stefan to remain where he was. “Let him be a peeping tom, worst that will happen is she’ll rip his loveless heart out.” To then Kai was an expendable weapon, there was only so much use that they had for him. They didn’t need to kill him, he’d be the cause for his own end, and there would be no one to mourn him, even if his family were alive.

“Hey. Y/n, stop! Please!” He was desperate for her attention, he’d gone so long without it that it was all he craved. In private, he had struggled and tried his darn hardest to cast an abundance of spells to awake her, even without the genetic gift of magic. There was no stone that he had left unturned, but all that needed to be done was to remove the dagger from her chest, but she was lost and hidden far away so that nobody could find her… not even him. Not even Jo, his own twin from birth had protected him from the parental neglect and isolation he had induced before his indefinite banishment, but Y/n had yearned to make him feel wanted and needed. When he had spent moments in private with her, away from the endless triggers, he felt like a normal person, almost human.

If not for Klaus and his incessant and overwhelming desire to collect his siblings and put them in their reserved coffins, Kai doubted that his disturbed parents would have succeeded with transferring his mind and lack of soul into the 1994 prison world. She would have murdered his coven pleasing, traditional parents in cold blood. He would have been free, and more importantly, with her. Joshua Parker and his broodmare of a wife had awaited for Y/n’s demise, acknowledging that whilst they were all powerful Geminis, an original vampire was not an obstacle that they wanted to risk fighting against. It was easier for them to wait until she was entirely out of the picture and consciousness to strike against their first born son.

Y/n looked at him, there was something in her eyes that had changed, and it wasn’t peculiar squint that she aimed at him. She was analysing his face, tilting her portrait worthy head at his appearance, repeating the sound of his voice in her brain. Her throat felt dry despite all the blood that she had drank as she began to speak, wary that she could have been imagining his presence as a trauma response, her long past encompassing her supernatural senses and making them into a realistic delusion. “You look like someone that I once knew, but you can’t be him, he would have aged by now, witches only have a mortal lifespan. Most of them anyways.” Her words spoke truth, however they had been long separated and their journeys had continued apart.

Kai dared to step towards her, reaching his silver adorned hands to her face, painting his own fingertips in the numerous layers of blood that was spread across her cheek. “The world hasn’t been kind to either of us, I’m a heretic now, and I did a lot of horrible things just so that I could survive and one day see you again. It’s really me, it’s, I’m… Malachai.” Y/n has always referred to him by his full name, and after he’d lost her for what felt like an eternity, he had vastly preferred it to be shortened to Kai. Each time he heard anybody formally naming him by Malachai, it caused him a terrible internal fever of pain, for she instantly was replayed in the only fond memories that he held close to his heart.

There was a glassy sheen reflecting from her compelling eyes, even if this was a sick and twisted trick that her body was playing on her vision, she wasn’t willing to waste another fleeting minute without pulling him into her embrace, hoping and praying to her ancestors above that Kai wouldn’t fade away. “I can’t believe it’s you.” Y/n whispered, still coming to grips with the shock that raced in her veins. She had heard commotion from the Salvatores and their younger allies in regards to the heretics that had brought dangerous issues into the borders of Mystic Falls. Never had the original expected for her Malachai to be one of the siphoner crossbreeds, they were stupidly subjective to be unexpectedly powerful after having lived lives of stealing magic and bearing the labels of being abominations to their cold hearted covens.

It was clear that they had both changed during their decades without one another. But it didn’t matter, Kai and Y/n were now individually stronger, thus meant together it would be close to impossible for any species to separate them again. “There’s something that you should know,” Y/n slightly pulled away from their coiled up proximity so that she could look into Kai’s grey irises, finding a rare comfort in their storm of pigment. “I’m a hybrid now, Klaus and I were never Mikael’s children, our father was a werewolf called Ansel, he and our mother had an affair. When Klaus took that stake out of my heart, he was planning on unlocking that hidden side of himself, and I joined him, thinking that a distraction was what I needed and that I’d never have the chance to see you again.”

Nothing changed in the way that Kai looked at Y/n, his orbs continued to be clouded with effortless and true adoration, he could care less what she was, all he wanted was her by his side until their fates rested in possible death, in an afterlife that they could fondly share. “You could never not be perfect to me, even in this moment. All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.” Kai could remember the first time he had seen her features accentuated with a visible rush of human’s blood, she had come to him in the night, after defending herself from a group of witches that had tried to use her mulled blood to bring all of her siblings to one destination. Their scheme had been to kill all vampires in the planet, and what better way to do that than to cull the untwined sources of the various and spread bloodlines. They hadn’t even come near to reigning their intended terror of mass extinction, Y/n had mauled them with quick yet painful deaths that would haunt them on the other side.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t remain looking like this Malachai, I need to shower.” Y/n miserably insisted, her pupils never wishing to leave his form again, for she was afraid that the heretic would disappear altogether. For years since Klaus had removed the dagger out from where it had been impaled in her chest, she had wanted to search for Kai, however the right opportunity had never arose. There was always a family related instance that threw any solace of doing so out the window. She was far too selfless for her own good, she continuously allowed her fleet of brothers and sisters to pull her into their conflicts, and she couldn’t find it in herself to leave them to the horrors of their mother Esther had given them lives long enough to experience. Immortality really was a cruel curse, every day Y/n would look in the mirror and see no alteration to her timeless face, there would only be more regret and trauma hidden behind her y/e/c windows to her fading soul.

“Then allow me to join you, I can’t bear to see you walk away again, I need you to come back.” Their last goodbye hadn’t prepared him for the years that had passed him by without her presence. It was a miracle that Y/n was in the same vicinity as him, she’d told him that she would see him the following day, but her promise had been broken through no fault of her own. “Well,” his past lover began to speak, Kai’s eyes solely trained on her lips that he obsessively dreamt of every night, “I’m sure that I could use your help t wash all of this blood off me.” And so Kai safely followed her until the attached bathroom of one of the many guest rooms, excited to feel her close once again. She stripped her ruined articles of clothing from her perfect, unscarred flesh, crimson painting each curve and ridge that her apparel hadn’t covered. Her movements span Kai’s mind into a flurry of hypnosis, he was entranced with her flawless anatomy.

She stepped into the shower first, allowing Kai to mentally prepare for sharing an intimate proximity with her after so long. He had always hated anyone touching him, since his parents had constantly instructed all to never lay a finger against his skin; because he was dangerous. One touch and he could kill his siblings that had been brought into the world to replace the disappointment that he was. But Y/n, he couldn’t hurt her, and she made him feel important and loved like his coven should have. They shared a history where they had both been neglected; Mikael knew that Klaus and Y/n weren’t biologically his children and so he had intended to kill them as a message to his witch of a wife, also due to simply wanting to. And even being sent to the prison world dedicated to holding and punishing Kai, his father had neglected and beaten him for being born as the black sheep. Neither of them had deserved the malicious injustice that their parents had handed out to them, but now they had time to heal together, and fix the broken shards of their intermingled roads of earning a sliver of peace.

It took him a fair few minutes to succumb back to the reality that was cast before his very eyes, like an allusive spell that disturbed his vision to picture his greatest desires. Y/n was as alive as a vampire could practically be, scrubbing her crimes from her body with her naked hands. Her knuckles were white and clenched as she feared that Kai wouldn’t join her because there was always the possibility that he wasn’t real; he was another mortal that she had outlived and his passing souls was spouting nonsense of heretics and prison worlds to madden her into believing all wasn��t lost, as it usually was. But as Kai built up the courage to shed his clothes and leave them in an abandoned cluster on the floor and join her behind the water splattered glass, and his hands nervously danced in a grip on her waist, Y/n realised that she was mistaken. He was real, and so were the tears that fell from his eyes and landed upon her shoulders that had relaxed from the warm stream that was elicited from the shower head.

Y/n span around in his arms, their bodies pressing together as she did so. Returning to Mystic Falls had been the correct move on her part, now there lay a chance to finish Kai’s and her story, rather than leaving it to remain a forgotten tragedy of their pasts. “I’m so happy that you’re here.” She hadn’t felt that raw emotion in a time too long, her voice had left her lips in a relieved sob. His shaky hands found refuge in cradling her face, pulling her closer so that their noses touched. “If I had to do everything all over again so that I’d end up here, I would.” Kai remembered the awful actions he had done, they flashed in his memory as guilt biled in his chest, he’d been raised as an evil child, and after he had realised that Y/n had disappeared, his actions proved such. At first Kai had assumed that his love had thought of him as a monster like everyone else did, however he dug through her small apartment only to discover carnage. She hadn’t willingly left him, and that made him angrier.

And he had snapped, he was always taunted for being powerless by his family, he was a pest that they had brought into the world, and so as revenge he took them out of it. But he held no regret other than being a Gemini without magic for so long, because his and Y/n’s paths had crossed as though it were fate. “I’d do it all again too, or maybe I’d have staked Klaus first. It doesn’t matter though, I’ve got you back and now we have more time, eternity is on our side.” Her lips found his, their mouths melting together in a passionate and desperate kiss that they refused to break. Their lack of breathing continued as Kai pressed her into the wall, moving them out of shot from the falling water, his knuckles hungrily grabbing the back of her thighs. He muttered an almost silent ‘jump’ into her mouth, and Y/n instantly followed his words, wanting nothing more than to be held in his arms.

It was as though two long lost worlds were colliding in an orbital explosion, Y/n’s arms were amorously locked around the apex of Kai’s neck, her lips drifting from his and teasing his neck with the outline of her teeth. They grew into fangs as Y/n found a pulse point, sinking her pointed canines into Kai’s veins, swallowing the blood that flowed into her mouth. He was thirsty to be within the hybrid whom he had missed for so long, his cock impatiently stirred against the flesh of her inner thigh, adamantly needing to be inside her. Y/n released Kai’s throat from her deadly, vampiric grip, with her lips stained red, and she lovingly admired him with heavy lids. “Fuck me Malachai, it’s been too long.” He agreed without word or hesitation, steadying her weight in his arms as he pushed his aching cock into his lover’s walls. They both exchanged relieved moans, discovering newfound ecstasy together with their heightened emotions and feelings. Her cunt hugged his length tightly, it’s vice grip bonding them together as their lips found each other again. Their tongues fought for dominance as they remained still for a moment, Kai’s feet that were planted on the floor supporting them.

“You’re so tight baby.” He huffed through his teeth, gasping down air that he didn’t know that he needed. Y/n’s back was pressed into the tiled wall of the large shower, her elegant head was timelessly craned backwards as she adjusted to the girth of Kai’s length. In her life after being separated from him, Y/n had continued her sex life with other partners, but none of them every fulfilled or satisfied her the way Kai had. The emotions that she had for the siphon were unique, it was the kind of love that she had been searching for within her over a thousand years of existence. He was thrilling and exciting for her, and she felt that same rush as Kai decided that it was time for him to move. He jarred his hips so that he almost pulled out of her walls that hugged his length to the point where all the blood in his body distanced itself from his head, only to push back into her warmth that provided him comfort like no other. Y/n enveloped his prime concentration, and the dark hauntings in his thoughts sunk to a distant place, allowing the heretic to enjoy something that wasn’t outright murder for a change.

“Oh my- holy fuck Malachai.” Y/n moaned as Kai fastened his pace and hit a particular spot in her depth that she had forgotten existed. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake whilst her legs tightened around his waist. She used her position as leverage to buck against him, neither of them were going to last long, that much was evident. To finally be together in such a comprisable scenario after twenty years was taking a toll on their bodies’ performances, neither Kai nor Y/n were far from reaching their peaks. Kai’s thrusts began to become scattered in their coordination, Y/n’s heat clamped down on him as he reached his fingers down and stimulated her bundle of nerves, spiralling her orgasmic bliss over the edge, and Kai’s orgasm followed shortly after. He filled her centre to the brim with his load of cum as he panted heavily, resting his forehead against Y/n’s as he carefully set her down so that she was standing by herself.

No one but Kai had ever treated Y/n as though she was fragile, including her own siblings. To most she was just the monster of her mother’s creation, a creature that craved destruction, Damon and Stefan had even been adamant to call her in as a reinforcement. The Gemini coven had been petrified of her presence, and so they had contacted Klaus and informed him of Y/n’s location before they banished the siphon of their family to a modified realm that held no trace of life, except for his own. Kai was the only being that took the time to see past the lives that she had agonised and taken, discovering that she was the true victim of her own actions. She was stuck with multiple curses increasing her affective thirst for blood, and there was no cure designed to fix her into a human. And even if there was somewhere out there, Y/n would be the first to admit that she didn’t deserve it. But Kai wanted her to live with little to no regrets, nothing that she had done mattered to him, he just hoped that she never regretted him.

“I love you Y/n Mikaelson, I should have said it a long time ago.” He cradled her face as the water around them turned cold, her hands choosing to lay atop of his. “And I will never let anything happen to you again, I don’t care who I have to kill to make sure of it.” Kai felt like he was finally capable of protecting her, he had his own magic now and so much more. Those in Mystic Falls had decided to allow him to live, and he had found his retribution; it was to be better for Y/n. They had a second chance and he wasn’t going to let it get away from him. “I love you too Malachai, I just never had a moment to tell you. By the time I realised what you meant to me, my brother was already in Portland.” She reached her fingertips up to brush against the scruff on his face that she was unfamiliar with, but it was definitely something that she could get used to. She wasn’t going to live another day without him by her side, they’d already lost too much time together.

“I know we’re not exactly fans of Kai, but he’s definitely got game if he can get Y/n out of all the Mikaelsons, and hold her down.” Damon nodded, as Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother. It was a good thing that they’d decided against ending Kai’s life, Stefan thought, otherwise Y/n wouldn’t be their ally if she uncovered the truth - she’d be their enemy. And that was the last thing that they would have wanted, because no one, mortal or not, ever survived her wrath. She had a soul, a tainted one at that, but she never took that into consideration if someone angered her. They were long dead before she reached them.

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moonlightsolo · 2 years

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eddie the bloody-handed II

summary: eddie gave into his urges to feed on you, but when you wake up, are you going to be upset with him for his choice?

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: mention of blood, angst, depictions of pain, insinuated smut at the end, lil suggestive, reader and eddie being a cute lil vamp couple

note: thank u sososo much for all the love on the first part ily all!!!!

the venom introduced into your cardiovascular system is attacking the last of your blood cells, sizzling out the rest of the life from inside of you. your body is unable to move from being paralyzed in your own mind, your nerve-endings and consciousness screaming at you to wake up.

blazing fire burns in your veins, as if molten lava is being pumping into your body through an intravenous needle. the severe burning sensation travels deep through your body. it's the most excruciating pain you have ever experienced throughout your entire existence.

once you change, that addicting blood of yours won’t tempt him anymore. even though, a little part in the back of his brain is whispering to him to bite you again, to get one last taste, but he refuses to hurt you. guilt sits heavy in the boys heart, making the dormant organ ache in his chest.

“i can’t believe you went down there without me. i wanted to go!” dustin’s hormonal voice squeaks dramatically as he shouts at hopper and steve. his eyes are teary from just hearing the news his best friend has risen from the dead.

henderson paces in the cabin’s living room, mumbling under his breath. his brain is working a mile a minute, using his smarts to figure out the situation.

“look, he took her. i don’t know where… but he flew away. it’s not that easy to chase after him, you know.” jim attempts to calm down dustin, hand resting his forehead and temple. hopper sucks in deep breaths through his nose, nostrils flaring out of frustration.

“flew?” will, dustin, and mike yell in unison.

“he has wings!” steve exclaims, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly.

“so you’re telling us.. eddie is alive? and he’s some sort of bat, slash vampire, slash upside down monster?” dustin rambles on, hands moving erratically as he talks. his wild eyes are still trained on the ground as he strides back and forth.

“yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” steve shrugs.

“screw all of you, i’m going down there.” dustin storms off, pushing angrily through hopper and steve. mike, eleven and will quickly follow him to their bikes, not listening to hoppers protests. they’ll find an open gate somewhere in this cursed town.

everything in your body goes silent, the pain fades away, and your heartbeat ceases in its wake. the ringing in your ears goes mute as you gradually awaken, the sound of muffled thunder drawing you back to reality.

the feeling of wind whooshing above you makes your eyes flutter open, squinting at the blurry silhouette of a person hovering above you.

eddie is staring at you, his doe-like eyes are wide as he tries to read your emotions through your awakening face. his wings are extended from flying himself over to you, curiosity and fear written on his features.

at first, you’re unsure of what happened. there’s an uncomfortable feeling of your hair pulling on the stickiness of something dried on your neck, “eddie…” your voice is hoarse, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

one of his hands come down to cup your cheek, but you instinctively pull away from his advances. his dark eyebrows furrow in confusion, wings curling up coyly behind his back, “baby, are you alright?”

you weakly slide your hand up your body to your neck, touching the side of it to peel away your hair. even with your blurred vision, you can’t help but notice your blackened fingertips. something isn’t right.

your eyesight clears as the past events finally rush back to you, everything clicks into place; falling asleep in his arms, him waking you up by biting you, the pain of his fangs feasting on your neck, and then your memory goes black. fury grows hot throughout your chest, rising up to your ears and settling on your cheeks.

“what did you do?” your voice drops in octave, making eddie wince from your irate tone. you begin to sit up slowly, almost nose to nose with him as you stare him down with pure anger in your eyes.

“eddie, what the fuck did you do to me?”

“baby, please- just listen-.” he tries to plead to you, backing up as you follow him closely. the look in your newly reddened eyes terrifies him.

your tongue runs across your top row of front teeth, feeling the sharp pointed ends of your canines press into the muscle. your eyes flash back up to him, arms reeling back to push roughly at his chest.

from your brute strength, he stumbles backwards off your bed. his eyes blow up even wider and mouth falling slightly agape in shock, “sweetheart, please.” your newfound power catches you and eddie slightly off guard, but you could care less- all you want to do is scream at him, maybe even punch him right in that perfect jaw of his.

your leg slithers off the side of the vine ridden bed, shoulders rising and falling as your anger builds higher, “do NOT call me sweetheart!” you shout at him, pointing a shaky index finger at him. eddie shutters from you raising your voice at him, face dropping dismally in return.

in the span of seconds, every thought about your future rushes to your head.

has the choice to have children of your own someday been taken away? are you ever going to see your family again? or even be able to feel the sunlight kissing your skin?

your bottom lip quivers, hot tears building up on your waterline, “you had no right to do this to me! no fucking right!” your voice shudders, gulping down the lump growing in your throat.

“i know. i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry, baby.” his hands tremble as he reaches out for you, feeling his own emotions building up from the overbearing regret squeezing at his heart.

all you want to do is be in his arms, for him to comfort you and tell you everything will be alright. you stare down at his hands for a moment, admiring his familiar rings that you wish to feel pressing into your skin.

instead of reaching out to him, your fingers rise to gently press against the wound on your neck. no pain surges from your tender touch, realizing that the two marks from his teeth has already scarred over.

your eyes glance behind you to look at your back, noticing two smaller wings drooping low and mimicking your saddened emotions. they aren’t as large as eddie’s, probably not strong enough to hold your body weight in the sky.

“i got carried away, something else came over me… something- something like a wild animal. i should have fought it, baby, but i didn’t… never meant to hurt you, or cause you pain- i was just so hungry, and so lonely.” he hurriedly rushes out to speak, his perfectly plump lips turned down as he rambles.

something about him begging for forgiveness makes you yearn for his touch. you’ve never gotten into an argument with eddie, other than small ones about stupid things like who gets to sleep on a specific side of the bed.

guilt bubbles in your chest from shoving eddie away from you, realizing some sort of otherworldly anger had taken over your body.

you shuffle towards him, hanging your head as you weep silently. his arms hesitantly wrap around your smaller frame, hands squeezing your shoulders before bringing you into his chest, “i love you so much.” his hand caresses the back of your head, smoothing over your hair.

“i love you.” your voice is quiet, shaky from the soft crying still exuding from you.

“i’m sorry i put my hands on you.” you mumble out into his chest, arms finally snaking around his slender waist.

“i deserve it.” he almost chuckles out, sniffling slightly from his running nose. your tears soak into his dirty shirt, hands gripping the muscles in his back as if you’d fall away from him.

eddie’s hand carefully rest upon the dip of your waist, thumb rubbing circles against your skin under your shirt, “now we’re the same temperature.” he points out, which makes you lift your head with a scowl on your expression, “too soon?” he questions with his lips stretched tight.

“way too soon.” you slightly laugh, dipping your head back underneath his chin to snuggle into him. after a few moments of standing in silence together, eddie pulls away to grab your hand.

“wanna fly?”

his words make you perk up, glancing back at your wimpy wings before looking back at him questionably, “mine were like that too, but trust me, they’re stronger than they look.” he flashes his sharp pearly smile at you, excitedly tugging you out of your room.

once you’re both stood on your front doorstep, your head reclines to stare up into the eerie sky. eddie’s wings begin to flap behind him, sending his body upwards to hover above the ground.

“here goes nothin’..” you roll your shoulders back with a shaky nervous breath. you focus on trying to move them first, easily making them open behind you. it’s almost like using a new limb.

you attempt to jump into the air, but your feet still hit the ground instead of flying up beside him.

“before you can run, you have to learn to walk, baby.” eddie touches down next to you, a sly smirk on his face. he wraps his arm firmly around your waist, holding onto you quite securely, “what are you doing?” you ask, but before you could protest he takes off into the sky.

you squeal loudly, hands desperately fisting at his shirt out of fear that you’re going to fall. your legs lift to wrap around his hips, gripping onto his body for dear life. he throws his head back to cackle like a mad man, “open ‘em! let them free!”

you do as you’re told, extending your wings so the current of air expands them even more. the feeling is cold, yet so freeing. eddie slightly pushes you off of his side, making you shoot a nasty glare at him.

“trust me. i will never let you fall.” he stares down at you with his infamous grin. the sight is amazing- his dark unruly hair whipping everywhere, his eyes that seem to glow in the dark, his ghostly skin that still shines under the moonlight.

as you’re busy admiring at his beauty, he’s slowly inching you farther away from him. his fingers still threaded with yours, but your arms are outstretched between your bodies. wings keeping you afloat as you glide through the air.

“oh my god!” you screech when you realize you’re actually flying- well sort of. a toothy grin pulls up on your face as you look around, feeling liberated by the wind flowing against you.

eddie snickers proudly at you, squeezing your hand before yanking away from your grasp. your eyes blow wide from the loss of contact, but surprisingly you don’t spiral down out of the sky.

he soars back and forth, swooping underneath your body to swap places with you. he winks cheekily as he flaunts his tricks, blowing you a kiss.

“show off.” you laugh loudly at him, flipping him the bird. eddie grabs at his chest as if he was stabbed, turning onto his back in the sky with his tongue sticking out and eyes closed.

before you could react to his theatrics, something woven into the wind catches your attention. your eyes dart around the terrain of the alternate dimension, actively searching for whatever it is. all you know is that it smells amazing. your mouth begins to salivate, the only thing you can think about is getting to sink your teeth into it.

it seems as if eddie has noticed the smell too, but his eyes are full of worry instead of hunger like yours, “don’t do it.” he warns, flying forward to grab your hand before you could do anything you’d regret.

pure instinct takes over as you nose dive away from him, searching out the smell with your nose and ears.

“awh fuck.” eddie huffs, rolling his eyes as he follows you downward out of the clouds. he calls out your name repeatedly as he chases you, but you tune him out.

you notice flashlight beams swinging in the withered forest, your wings flapping loudly to hover yourself above the trees, eyes scanning the area.

a group of people are walking through the foliage, cracking fallen sticks under their heavy footsteps. the sound amplifies as you listen into their conversation:

“they could literally be anywhere! i can’t believe i followed you in here, henderson.” mike groans in annoyance, “we need to find them. she’s in danger.” eleven adds.

you drop through the woodland, the wind whooshing past your ears as you dodge astray limbs of trees. you land directly in front of them, fist and knee hitting the ground to break the harsh fall. their conversation goes silent as they examine your every move, mouths hanging open in shock.

your wings frame your body as your eyes flicker up to them, standing tall on your feet. they almost gasp from your appearance, the color of your irises horrifying them to their core.

“y/n…?” dustin calls out, taking a step forward with his hand raised cautiously.

“dustin!” mike hisses at him to warn him as he grows closer. you gulp down your ravenous hunger, stomach growling angrily at you to launch yourself at them.

your hands tremble by your sides, using every amount of self-restraint left in your body to hold yourself back. you can’t hurt them, you just can’t.

“hey, kids.” you flash your pointy grin, making their eyes grow even bigger, if that was possible.

“you… turned?” eleven asks, eyebrows furrowed as she looks over you inquisitively.

the sound of air kicking up behind you causes the kids to flinch, loud purposeful footsteps crunching on the leaves grow closer as they walk up from behind you.

eddie peeks his head out from the side of your wings, showing off his fangs with a big grin and an excited wave, “henderson!“ he exclaims, arms opening for the boy to run to him.

dustin wavers on the possibility of this being a trap to suck his blood, but seeing his best friend alive in front of him makes him sprint right at him.

“holy shit, eddie!” dustin wraps his arms around his torso, hugging him with all his might.

“missed me?” he chuckles, patting the top of his curly head awkwardly as he hugs him back. you can’t help but smile at them two, looking back over at mike and eleven.

the two love birds are staring you both down, especially eleven. she doesn’t buy your fake smile and laughs, and can feel how much pain you’re in by holding yourself back.

you keep eye contact with her, glaring at the girl as your whole body begins to tremble. a little voice is urging you to lunge forward and grab her, to sink your teeth into her carotid artery and feed on her blood.

eddie calls your name out worriedly, slipping away from henderson to carefully glide himself over to you.

the overwhelming smell of blood fills your senses as more people find there way to the clearing. hopper, steve and joyce are running up, flashlights flickering as they jog.

there’s too many.

you stare at eddie with glossy eyes, holding your breath. he goes still when he sees how much you’re struggling to hold back, almost wanting to cry from the look on your face. he knows exactly how you’re feeling, and when he felt it last, he couldn’t hold back; turning you into a monster- just like him.

and that was only one person that tempted him. he doesn’t know how you’re controlling your thirst during this moment.

eddie steps forward when you slightly teeter, gripping your hips as he steps in front of you. his hands cup both of your cheeks to have you focus only on him, “hey, hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, yeah? you’re okay, baby.” he whispers to you, slightly smiling for your sake.

“i can’t- i can’t do this.” you whine softly, nuzzling against his palm with your face screwed up in distress. your arms wrap around his waist, taking a few reluctant steps to press yourself into him. you stuff your face into his neck, breathing in his scent to calm yourself down and mask the other smells.

eddie’s arms immediately encase your body, letting out a relieved sigh. his eyes dart to the people around him, “let her go.” hopper demands.

“jesus christ...” eddie groans obnoxiously, craning his head back to the sky before turning around to stare annoyingly at him.

“first of all, you kids need to go home, and she can’t be down here any longer. she’s going to die!” the ex-police officer shouts impatiently, hand resting on the gun in his holster.

“well, she’s already dead!” dustin yells back at him with his snippy attitude.

hoppers goes silent, looking between everyone. “she’s… dead?” joyce questions, one of her eyebrows raising as she stares at you.

you lift your eyes up from the crook of eddie’s neck to look over his shoulder, your red eyes on full display to everyone.

joyce instantly gasps and hides her face in jim’s side, “my god…” he mumbles in disbelief, his hand falling from his gun as he gawks at you.

“he turned you?” steve points out the obvious, making some of the kids go, “duh!”

“look, i don’t mean to scare you when i say this, but she’s really hungry and if you guys don’t leave now, you’re all going to… well- get eaten.” eddie bluntly tells the truth to them. it keeps them silent for a moment, their eyes darting throughout their group of people.

“what if we bring her food from our world? drop it through the gate so she can eat without hurting anything that’s human.” dustin ponders on the thought.

“like what?“ you blurt out with desperation evident in your voice.

“like an animal? a deer, a bear..?”

“oh, a bear? where are we going to get a bear?” will mocks his idea with a small chuckle, making dustin stutter over his words as he tries to explain his reasoning.

you stifle a laugh in eddie’s neck from their bickering, making him laugh along with you. “bleh! kids, right?” he playfully mumbles into your ear, hands squeezing your hips. the adults join the argument, attempting to diffuse the tension, but it’s just making it worse.

“let’s get out of here.” he mumbles against your skin, bending his knees to launch himself upwards into the sky. the force of his wings picks up the dirt on the ground, twirling up leaves and twigs and leaving a cloud of dust in his place.

“wait! where the hell are they going?” hopper yells, silencing the numerous conversations. everyone’s head looks up into the sky but your bodies have already disappeared into the clouds.

“let’s go get them some food so they don’t make a u-turn and turn one of us into those things.” hopper grumbles, motioning with his hand for everyone to follow him back to the gate.

eddie casually sails through the sky with you, his hand holding onto yours tightly as you glide parallel to him. a wide smile on both of your faces, just basking in the peacefulness of the wind flowing around you. as much as you despised his choice to turn you, now you realize how hard it was for him to hold back with you right under his nose.

some part of you is happy to be like this, especially with him. you don’t exactly know all the details of being an inter-dimensional vampire, whether you’re immortal like fantasy books have fabricated, or maybe you’re subjected to death after a couple hundred years… but who cares when you’ve got him back.

eddie squeezes your hand gently, making your eyes open to see that he’s aiding you in descending slowly back to your darkened home. he touches down with you directly in front of your doorstep, hand instinctively resting on your lower back to guide you inside.

once you make it upstairs, you choose to use your family’s guest bedroom instead of your own, since it’s most likely still a little bloody. eddie lays your trembling body down, slotting himself between your open legs. he leans back on his heels to admire your body, red eyes hooded and a dopey smile on his face.

“gooooorgeous, baby!” eds cheers, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he leans down and catches your lips with his. you laugh into the kiss, arms lazily draping around his neck to pull him closer. his chest presses against yours, chain hanging from his neck above you. he’s obviously trying to get your mind off of eating all your friends, and it’s definitely working.

your index and middle finger wrap around the looped metal when he goes to pull away, tugging him right back to you.

“oooh, feisty.” he purrs, leaning forward to tug your bottom lip between his teeth. he savors the sight of it bouncing back into place, mouth salivating at the sight of you.

“can i call you sweetheart now?” he almost moans into your mouth when your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him flush against your center.

“yes, eds… of course you can.” your hand grips the root of his hair, tugging on it softly since you know he likes it. the movement earns you a delicious moan that tumbles past his swollen lips.

“you better be ready for the best night of your life, sweetheart.” a sly smirk pulls up on his lips as his hands find the seams of your top, tugging on it so it rips into two.

after countless rounds of endless pleasure, a few new dents in the walls (from taking advantage of being able to fly), and a broken bed, your bodies are completely and utterly worn out. your nude chest is pressed into eddie’s side, tiredly resting your head on his bare abdomen. his hand absentmindedly twirls a few pieces of your hair as he hums a tune to a familiar song.

“that was…” he breathes out, letting out a disbelieving chuckle. his brain won’t comprehend what vulgar things he just did to you, and vice versa.

another bonus of being immortal, is very high stamina and absolutely no sweat.

“…so amazing.” you continue his sentence, gazing up at him through your eyelashes with a sluggish smile on your lips.

never would you have ever imagined your boyfriend, the one you tragically mourned for, would come back to life as a vampire. somehow, even with his piercing red eyes and fangs that definitely bite, he’s still the most beautiful person you have ever encountered.

you may be eternally damned to the upside down, but hey, at least eddie is stuck down here with you too.

tags: @eddiemunsonslovelife @eddieussy @kylee-munson-barnes @llmae @vanessasweetie @lillyof-thevalley @taylorjqy @oscarisaacwhore @bellajg21 @explosiongamora @sadbitchfangirl @skyfullofsong123 @e-van-halen @shadowluna25 @whatinthefreshhellisthis @vllowe @gh0stboombox @shamidreamer @4l1fersss @xsuvs @barnaclebeeshive @simpinformunson @gooblerstan @0temp-erance0 @subjecta13-thefangirl @slut-for-sevika @sleepyb1txh @maskedmistress @weluvveddie @maddiethebanished @cjzelaitis @basiclassy @fuggiamodaqui @ap2x @bellsarmos @stiles-argent24 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @elainavmarie @arminsgfloll @demo-bats @prettysbliss @slut4edd1emunson @erensslut @bootlegmothman420 @uuinter-soldier @m00nlight101 @korekiyoss @sllimyelim02 @sanitysfallisamazing @tubble-wubble @blairsbooktime @eddiemunsonsgfreal

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie au #vampire eddie #eddie the bloody handed #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #kas the bloody handed #dungeons and dragons

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underoossss · 1 year

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What If’s -Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for across the spiderverse!!!! a couple of vampire jokes here and there. kissing, yearning, idk if those are warnings.

an: there’s no better character than miguel to write a wholesome hurt/comfort friends to lovers fic. this is my first time writing for him and I hope I did a good job lmao. let me know how I did!

★★★★

“I know I said I don’t mind your company.” Miguel’s voice reaches you from the platform he’s perched on in the middle of his lab. “But do you have to turn the volume up so loud?”

Your laugh echoes the room as you press a button twice to decrease the volume for a moment. “It helps me focus. Some of us have jobs aside from being a superhero you know.”

“Oh is saving the world not enough of a job for you?” Miguel’s eye-roll is clear in his tone and it makes you smile. “Perhaps you don’t know it but here we’re trying—”

“I know, I know, Twilight.” You wave him off over your shoulder. “What I mean is I like having a job, and I’m super smart so they let me work remotely.”

“All spider people are ‘super smart’ as you put it.” Miguel says, from somewhere behind you as you tap away on your laptop.

“Huh,” You fake surprise, then speak through a grin. “Here I thought I was the only one, good to know you’ve got a brain behind your broody eyes.”

Miguel’s breathy chuckle makes your heart jump, and you turn on your seat to catch the corner of his mouth lift in a half smile. Going back to the report you have to finish for your regular job, you turn the music up again and rest your feet on the desk in front of you. “I can feel you judging me, Twilight.”

“I am.” Miguel calls back to you and you smile.

There’s nothing that makes your body fill with warmth like Miguel. From being his most annoying spider recruit since the day you met —you saw he had fangs, and he never lived the vampire jokes down— your relationship has blossomed into a beautiful friendship over time. The kind of friendship where everything is easy around each other, where you anticipate the other’s needs, and the kind that started with sharing trauma. Both of you’ve lost many people, and it’s probably the reason why you cling to the other as much as you do. You’re a stubborn tangle in his hair and he's as present in your life as the breeze that hits your face when you’re swinging through the city. You bring out the best in each other —regardless of you annoying him every single day— and this deep connection you seem to have is most likely the one responsible for the lines between friendship and love to be so blurred between you. You’ve fought by his side multiple times, and you love it, but there’s nothing you love more than these quiet moments with him, where you just exist near each other, and everything feels right. Though you love seeing him in action, more often than not getting distracted by his ruthlessness, strength, and skill, you love doing simple things with him too. Miguel showing up to your place when you’re cooking dinner and refusing to dance along with you; Miguel getting coffee with you after much insistence to leave his desk; Miguel sighing at your bad jokes which only makes you laugh more; Miguel staying over at your place, his presence a warm reassurance that you’re safe.

Insistent pinging takes your mind away from its memories, and you’re quick to set your work aside and swing to the platform to see what’s going on. Lila has appeared over Miguel’s shoulder and is gesturing at the many alarms popping up on the yellow screens. A canonic event has been interrupted, a black hole has opened under the city of Mumbattan on earth 50101, Miles Morales —the Spider-Man Miguel’s been keeping tabs on for a while— is in that dimension for some reason, and there’s a multiverse-jumping anomaly on the loose.

Miguel’s face darkens, a mix of worry, fury, and tiredness forcing his features down into a deep frown. He pinches the bridge of his nose before talking to Lyla as he flips through the screens. “Tell Jessica to go to Earth 50101 and bring backup with her. We need to contain that black hole.”

“On it.” Lyla disappears for a moment before she’s back by Miguel’s side. “What else?”

“Bring Miles Morales to me.” He says, setting his hands on the table in front of him and looking at the screen that show’s Miles stopping the canonic event. “It’s time we stop this mess at its source.”

“Miguel?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, worry settling on your chest. “What do you mean?”

Lyla disappears a moment later as Miguel’s monitors keep flipping through the events in Mumbattan. Alchemax blowing up as a result of the anomaly calling itself the Spot turning on the supercollider. The building collapsing on itself.

“You know what I mean.” The man in front of you furrows his brows in anger. “He’s become a threat since the moment he was bitten. It was never even supposed to happen, you can’t expect me to let him go on like this. To keep disregarding canon as much as he pleases.”

“You know I’ve always supported you, Miguel.” You take his hand in both of yours and squeeze it tightly. “I’m the one backing you up, winning everyone over when they get mad at you… But this is wrong.”

“It’s not.” He says, taking his hand back from you and clicking away on his computer. A moment later, moments in Miles Morales’ life float in the screens around you. “We have to stop him. He’s going to undo everything we do if not.”

“Miguel,” You furrow your brows at his words, then gesture towards him with your arms. “Listen to yourself, who’s more out of canon here, him or us? We weren’t bitten, that’s strike one; we can’t stick to walls, strike two; you don’t shoot webs and my senses aren’t heightened like everyone else’s. That’s strike three.”

It’s something that’s always intrigued you, but it’s never made you think of yourself or Miguel as less of a Spiderman than everyone else. That’s not what wearing the mask means; it means protecting those who can’t protect themselves. To be selfless and kind and self-sacrificing for the world, even if no one says thank you. If Miguel and yourself haven’t broken the multiverse just by existing, then why would Miles. If his world hasn’t collapsed then there’s nothing wrong with him being the superhero that he is.

Miguel ponders your words but shakes his head, still adamant to see things your way in this matter. “The kid–”

You take a step closer to him and cut him off before he can continue. “The kid was bitten, regardless of it being supposed to happen or not! He has lost someone dear already and has basically followed every other spiderman rule, Miguel. I don’t think he’s the reason this is happening.”

Your friend, the object of your affections, turns his back towards you, going back to his screens. They show the events of Mumbattan now, the way Miles saved the captain and the little girl from being crushed by falling debris. There’s also the black hole in the city, threatening the people they tried so hard to save. The hole is so similar to the Spot’s that you’re sure an analysis would prove it right. But Miguel isn’t seeing reason. “He is.”

“It’s the Spot’s fault!” You raise your voice, frustration getting the best of you more a moment before you take a deep breath. Trying to see things from his perspective, you place a hand on his upper arm, your voice falling down to a reassuring whisper. “I know you’re scared of the world collapsing again, but it won’t.”

Your heart falls when he shrugs your hand off and turns to look at you. The many screens around you dance across his features, and after inhaling deeply Miguel speaks again. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” You smile sadly, hoping that your confidence in him will let him see what’s right under his nose. “I know it because this time you’re here, Miguel, guiding us and making sure it doesn’t happen again. You just need to see that Miles isn’t the problem.”

“Everything started with him.” Miguel argues, his voice emphasizing the word everything, definite on his theory. His eyes are full of resentment, not towards you, but towards the situation. Days and nights of working himself thin in this office, weighing on his broad shoulders.

Your squeeze your eyes shut before you look at him again. He’s so blinded by his own past mistakes; he thinks Miles will repeat them. When you speak again your voice is soft despite your irritation. “Miguel, you know in your heart it didn’t, and I know that because we’re the same.”

He exhales and looks into your eyes; they soften only slightly as they lock with yours. You try to urge him once again to forget this theory for a moment and see things differently if only for a second. He needs to know you don’t think it has to come to this –an attack towards the young spiderman– and that you won’t be a part of it if it does.

“If I feel it, then you must feel it too.” Though you’re talking about his plans for the young spiderman, the underlying topic of your feelings for him are clear as day in the way you look at him. You let your guard down, and say barely above a whisper, “Please. You know I can’t follow you, not this time.”

His eyes look aways from you as his shoulders tense, a clear sign of all the walls you’d crumbled building back up. “You want me to risk everything, including you, over a what-if?”

“Everything’s a what-if, Miguel.” You smile sadly at him, then set your shoulders straight as you step away from the platform and from him. “But I guess that settles that.”

Miguel takes two steps and catches up to you before he reaches for your hand. There’s a tightness around his brown eyes from the way you’re looking at him tearfully. They shift to confusion a moment later, when his hand moves upwards towards your wrist and you grin. Taking another step back, you hold your watch on your opposite hand, showing him that you knew he’d try to take it from you. You know him better than he gives you credit for.

“I’ll see you when you’ve changed your mind, Twilight.” You fiddle with your watch until a portal opens and when it does, you throw the device back at him. Though your throat is tight, emotion concentrating there as tears sting your eyes, you keep yourself from crying. “Otherwise… I guess this is goodbye.”

Not bearing to look into the new despair in his eyes, you turn around and walk into your dimension without looking back. When the portal closes behind you, you’re back in your apartment, the room dark around you safe for the lamp you forgot to turn off in the morning. Every corner you look at you see Miguel’s lingering shadow; the wall he always leaned against when you talked in the kitchen, the couch where the two of you always hung out –your legs over his lap and your laptop over yours as he waited for you to finish working. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping for some comfort to come from it.

Hoping this mess can be fixed.

It is only a day later when the first step towards it being resolved, happens. You’ve been swinging through the city, patrolling different neighborhoods and keeping an eye out for any anomalies. Without your watch you’ve been disconnected from the Spider Society. Most importantly from Miguel, and although you try to, you can’t help but wonder what’s happening back in the HQ. You've barely been to your apartment since your fight with Miguel, your heart feels like a fading bruise –not quite broken but yearning painfully– and the last thing you want to do is spend time somewhere that will bring his memory back to you. So quick stops to shower, work, and eat, in between patrols are all you’ve allowed yourself. You’re swinging to one of these stops, when you spot a lonely figure standing in your balcony.

Even from afar you know its him, no one else has his shoulder-to-waist ratio, and no one else makes your heart skip quite like he does. Despite being vexed from your last conversation, you feel his heart call out to yours, and the way his eyes rise to see you swing towards the balcony are all the confirmation that you need that your assumptions were right. He would come around eventually, you knew it, you never thought it would be this fast though. What have you done now, Miguel?

You land on the balcony next to him, nod towards your door so he can follow you inside. Once the door closes behind you, you take your mask off and Miguel’s vanishes too. There’s no awkwardness as you stand in front of each other in the middle of the living room, only silence in an otherwise joyful room. The lights are still off in your apartment but you don’t move to turn them on, instead you shrug and motion towards the balcony.

“Nice timing.” You say, trying to keep your voice light. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d see me when I changed my mind.” His voice is low, like he’s worried the moment will shatter if he speaks any louder.

“You did?” Your question is followed by a step closer to him, but a frown appears on your face. “What changed it?”

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” He whispers, brows furrowed together creating a deep crease between them. His eyes won’t meet yours but from the city lights outside your apartment, and the glow from his suit, you can see the deep regret in them, and the embarrassment from admitting his wrongs. “Then made a mess out of everything.”

“Miguel–”

“You can say I told you so, because you were right.” He turns to you, bringing his hand to hold your cheek briefly before he sighs and walks away, closer to the balcony’s window.

“What happened?” You follow him, standing next to him. Part of you is afraid he’s going to leave the same way he arrived, and panic settles on your chest. You urge him to keep talking though, you won’t give him a chance to shut down this time. “What happened with Miles?”

“The Spot’s stronger than before and going to Miles’ dimension to destroy it and then possibly many others.” Miguel clenches his hands into fists, the muscles around his neck tensing, the stress and worry in them is clear for you to see. “But he’s not there, because of me.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, a mannerism you’ve gotten from the man next to you. Of course he scared the kid off; you love this man more than anything, but he really needs to work on his first impressions. “Where is he? How can we find him?”

“I have an idea; I think his friends do too.” Miguel starts, then shakes his head, some strands of hair falling over his forehead. “Maybe the dimension of the spider that bit him is a good place to start.”

“Then we find him, Miguel.” You move to stand in front of him, your back to the window and the city, all your focus on him. “We find him, we bring him home, and we defeat the Spot.”

He nods almost imperceptibly his gaze in the distant glimmering buildings, his handsome yet tired features washed in light blue and purple light. You know he can feel your gaze on him, burning a hole on his face but his eyes won’t look away from the window. When he doesn’t give in a moment later, you bring both of your hands to his face. Half expecting him to move away, you’re surprised when he lets you, and a small breath escapes him at the contact.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You whisper, your thumbs moving softly over his cheekbones. “Everything will be alright; we can fix it.”

“I almost lost everything by trying to prevent it from happening again.” He confesses, eyes full of torment when they finally meet yours. They glisten in the light, worry and despair making his icy layers melt for you too see him clearly. It’s enough to make you tear up. When you try to say something, he cuts you off as if knowing what you’re about to say. “I almost lost you.”

You shake your head fervently. “You were never going to lose me, we’re best friends I don’t think we’re capable of losing each other.”

“We’re more than that.” He says, voice gentle as he takes your hands from his face and holds them in his, they dwarf yours in size. “I feel it too and I’m sorry if it’s too late.” His words echo back to your last conversation, and it makes your stomach flip. Finally, after so much time, your feelings are bare in front of each other. Precious jewels you would never trust to anyone else, both broken, both put back together, and perfect for the other.

“It’s not.” You shake your head and let go of his hands, moving them instead to rest on his shoulders. A smile makes its way to your face, and the way Miguel’s lips move to mirror it makes your heart soar.

A moment later his head is tipping downwards as you step on the tip of your toes to kiss him. It’s an electric moment, a canonic event itself with the way all the pieces seem to fall into place. You move your arms around Miguel’s shoulders and hitch yourself higher to wrap your legs around his waist. His approval is hummed into your mouth as his lips move ardently against yours. One of his arms goes around your waist while the other moves up your back to bury his hand in your hair, tipping your face in the perfect angle to kiss you into a blissful state. Your sighs are unstoppable and he’s more than happy to catch them with his lips as your hands move to his hair. This is all you’ve wanted, to have him completely, for the two of you to accept the feelings that have always been there.

Eventually your passionate kiss simmers down to something slower, calmer. Miguel’s lips brush yours softly; barely-there kisses that move to the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw. His voice is rough when he whispers against your lips in a gentleness he rarely shows, “I love you, I always have.”

“I love you, you broody, cheap Twilight vampire wannabe.” You murmur, brushing your nose against his as he chuckles under his breath, before he sets you down. “We should go.”

“Only if you want to.” Miguel tells you, holding out your watch on the palm of his hand.

You take it from him and put it on with a smile. “Please, you’d be lost without me.”

His hand cups your cheek for a moment, a soft smile just for you on his face as he says, voice low. “Right again.”

In front of you a new portal appears, back to Miguel’s office to round everybody up. The future might still be up in the air, and there might be many battles ahead before this multiversal conflict is solved. But one thing you know for sure is that with the right team, the impossible can happen. You’re sure Miles’ team has his back, but a little backup wouldn’t hurt them, would it?

You take Miguel’s hand and squeeze it in yours before walking backwards to the portal. “Come on Twilight, let’s help the kids save the world.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fluff #across the spider verse fanfic #spider man 2099

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wardenparker · 5 months

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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.

______

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My Masterlist!

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

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kentopedia · 9 months

Note

RYLIE . . . no cuz tbh i had a thought HEAR ME OUT 😇😇 ermm semi nsfw . . .

vampire bf! kento who hates sinking his teeth into u cuz he does need a little bit of ur human blood to keep him going . he thinks it hurts u too much , but after finding out u like the way his soft tongue runs against ur neck n sharp of his teeth meet ur skin , nanami' s chuckling to himself . his pretty, innocent girl likes when he uses u to his disposal ? he's more than happy to comply ><

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BLOODLUST — nanami kento

YUYU I AM HEARING YOU OUT !!!! I AM LISTENING I AM ALL EARS OMGOMGOMG umm kinda nsfw ?? minors dni ig !!!

it starts out weeks before, when the two of you are making out on the couch. you’re sitting on his lap, your smaller hands resting against his chest as he kisses you over and over again.

the inside of your mouth tastes so good already, and kento can’t help but wonder what your blood tastes like too. he’s wondered about it a lot, recently, but he promised himself he wasn’t going to be that kind of vampire. he wasn’t going to kill humans, and he certainly isn’t going to drink from the girl he cares about so deeply.

but you’re just so pretty on his lap, and you smell so good. the blood under your sweet skin pumps through your body, and you’re so warm, it’s such a distraction, such a contrast to his cold palms.

you squeeze his shoulders and let out a little breath of air as kento takes his lips from your own, kissing down your jaw before his mouth is right over the vein of your neck, the tendons that flex every time you move your head.

“kento,” you say, your voice high-pitched and soft. it’s the most angelic sound he’s ever heard in his life. really, he’s not sure if he ever had control of the situation; if, maybe, that sharp little addiction to human blood would start to come back with you so close to him all the time.

he grazes his teeth over your neck and inhales, before biting softly, letting your sweet blood flood into his mouth. nanami moans, straining, and he nearly comes in his pants at how good you taste.

you let out a gasp, your hands threading tightly through his hair as he licks the blood softly into his mouth, savoring the taste.

it doesn’t last long, though. he realizes, quickly, he’s made a mistake, and he pulls away at your sharp little sound, because it must hurt so bad.

“oh god,” he says, hands running all over your cheeks at your dazed expression, an shaky touch caressing your face. “i’m so sorry, sweetheart. shit. i’m sorry.” and he really is so sorry, because he’s an old vampire, and he shouldn’t be losing control so easily. especially not when he’s around his girl, the one person in the entire world he doesn’t want to hurt.

“ken—“

he kisses the two little punctures on your neck.

nanami remains gentle, even though something animalistic possesses him, then, at the very obvious evidence that you’re his.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, but it’s a little weak, less apologetic than he meant it to be. but you’ve already moved on, kissing him with a renewed passion as you slip his shirt off.

he starts to notice, after that, you push his face into your neck a lot.

still, it doesn’t hit him immediately, what you’re getting at. nanami gets so lost in you that a part of his logic switches off, and things that normally would’ve been obvious to him just aren’t anymore.

so, he kisses you more on your neck, leaves gentler little love bites, even if he'd much rather tear open the skin and let that sweet nectar pour into his lips.

this time, you’re under him, spread out for him on the bed in the little black lingerie set you'd pretended to be too shy to wear.

he wants you more now than he ever has; ever since he got that little taste of your blood, it’s been all he thinks about.

nanami loves you, though, and he’s not that type of man. he’s not going to ask you if he can have a tiny little sip of your blood again, because he refuses to put you through any pain for his own pleasure.

but its almost impossible to resist you when you keep pressing your face into his neck, making those sweet little sounds as you writhe beneath him.

“kento,” you say, a breathy moan leaving you, and he hums against you as a response, his fingers skimming across your body. “i want…”

you don’t finish your sentence, but press his face into your neck again, tightening your grip on his hair. nanami laughs against your throat. “what do you want? gotta tell me, pretty.”

your cheeks grow hot, but you arch up into him as his fingers slip inside of you. “bite me,” you say, unable to look at him, too embarrassed by your desire. “like you did before. please, please.”

nanami stops for a moment, glances up at your with a wrinkled brow, confusion locked in his irises. “bite you?” he hesitates, then lets the pearly fangs slip over his lips. “you mean…”

your eyes widened, gloss over with lust as you nod slowly, trying to get him back in your arms. but nanami laces his fingers with yours, pins you to the bed, his eyes darkening as he laughs.

“oh,” he says, swirling his tongue along your vein as you whimper, squeezing his hand. of all the requests you might make, that, somehow, didn’t cross his mind. “you like it?” his fangs scrape over your skin, the smoothness of his tongue against your neck driving you wild.

you whimper, and squeeze your ankles around his own, the desperation answer enough.

nanami grins, breathless, and really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. you’re so desperate, hungry for him sometimes, his sweet girl who turns into such a fiend for him when no one’s looking. “you should've just told me," he licks a smooth circle around your vein, "don’t have to be embarrassed about it, sweetheart."

nanami pierces the skin, the hot, warm liquid flooding his lips, and you cry out again, but this time, nanami senses the pleasure in it rather than pain. the way that you fall apart, let him take you completely under control, and enjoy it.

"you're mine," nanami says, his voice horse, blood coating his teeth and his lips, the sweetest thing he's ever tasted. "no one's ever going to taste you but me, understand?"

you nod, whispering a string of incoherent syllables that nanami, in his drunken mind, can't be bothered to decipher.

he groans against your neck, truly believe that even if his damned soul could reach heaven, it wouldn’t be any better than this.

#YUYU #U ARE SUCH A GENIUS #the minute i saw this ask #I RAN TO THE LAPTOP #i am giggling over him all the time kicking my feet pls i want him so badly #MY VAMPIRE BOYFIE 😫😫😫#໒꒱ rylie's angels #xoxo . . . yuyu #nanami x fem!reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami imagine #vampire nanami #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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letters-from-dekarios · 2 months

Text

fighting fate

summary: you had some choice words for your friend who set you up on a not-so-blind date. but, because it went well, you decide to meet with him again. it’s not long before the spark reignites like when you first met, and you can’t help but fall for him.

or: you go on a second date with gale

word count: 5.5k

tags: *this is a sequel to ‘a blind date with a wizard’, you do not have to read it before this one :)* gale x implied f!reader/afab!reader, astarion and shart are terrible wingmen, elf!reader, fluff, some small angst, mildly medium burn, alcohol usage, wyll is also there and also your ex, omg karlach is also there

author’s note: this is my little disclaimer that i personally love wyll! i’m just using him as a plot point since there’s not many other main chara options that haven’t been mentioned already (that i would use in his place). its for the plot guys i swear i’m a wyll lover too

Okay, maybe you couldn’t be mad at Astarion and Shadowheart. Yes, they betrayed your trust by setting you up on a faux blind date with their wizard friend who already knew your entire life story. And yes, they did not take accountability for their lies and instead kept asking if you enjoyed yourself. But, their little plan worked, and you were scheduling a second date with the man they set you up with.

“I am still pissed at you both. Especially you, Astarion,” You glared at your friend as he flipped through outfits in your closet. Shadowheart was busy doing your makeup, turning your face back towards her.

“Look, you can’t stay angry forever. You needed someone to get your mind off of Wyll. I just did what I do best,” he replied, holding up one rather… skimpy outfit that you turned your nose up at.

“Lying? You could’ve at least told me a little about him so I didn’t feel so mortified! You told him all about Wyll and when I tried to vaguely mention that I had a bad breakup, he already knew all about it!” You huffed, and Shadowheart grabbed your chin to steady your face. She gave you a cautionary look as she got underway applying your eyeliner, her hand steady and precise. She had cast duplicity to do both sides at the same time, which made the process much easier.

“Sweetheart, if you knew half the things about him you’d refuse to meet with him. I kept you in the dark so you can see for yourself who he is,” Astarion held up another outfit, one a bit more casual but still would be pretty on you. You nodded in approval and Shadowheart nearly had an aneurysm.

“If you don’t stop moving your damn head I’m going to let you leave here looking like a sibriex,” Shadowheart warned you again, and you took heed of her notice this time.

With your makeup done and your outfit fresh, all you had to do was wait for Gale to arrive. The two of you had been back and forth for weeks now, mostly updating each other on current things you were up to. A few days prior, with your schedules finally open, he had sent word of when he’d like to take you out and you responded as soon as you could. Now, you waited for the date to commence.

“You can at least thank us for our assistance in getting you out of the house. Had I not convinced you to go on that blind date, you’d still be crying over Ravengard’s oldest disappointment,” Astarion remarked, and you snorted at the insult of a name.

You sighed after, messing with the ends of your hair. “You can’t blame me for being annoyed. You wouldn’t like it if I set you up with someone and told them you were a vampire before you could,” you raised an eyebrow at him knowingly. He couldn’t deny that you were correct on that front, but he wasn’t about to say that to you.

“Just be grateful he didn’t tell Gale about your little misadventures as a—“ Shadowheart began, and you quickly clamped your hand over her mouth, shushing her.

“Don’t mention that! It’ll bring bad luck to my date tonight,” you frowned, and both of your companions busted out in laughter.

You continued chatting until a soft knock sounded on the door, and you screamed internally. After getting up from the couch, you made your way to the door. You took a breath, eased your mind, and then opened it up for him.

“Hey,” you beamed at him, trying to contain your excitement. He bowed in acknowledgement and pulled out a small bouquet from behind his back.

“Good evening, my lady,” he smiled at you, extending the flowers in greeting.

You felt your face become hot while a small giggle left you. You took them from him and briefly smelled the assortment. “They’re lovely, thank you,” you replied, inviting him inside for a beat so you could set the flowers down.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite wizard of Waterdeep!” Astarion swung his legs over his chair, standing and heading towards him. He slumped his arm over Gale’s shoulders, patting his back. “Isn’t he just amazing, Y/N? Such a gentleman— is that bluestars I smell?” Astarion whacked him on the back once more, stepping around to you as he observed the flowers. Bluestars was a rather expensive perfume in Faerùn, costing over two hundred gold pieces for just a small bottle. You had never smelled it before, but you were sure you would later.

“Leave him be, Astarion,” you gave him a look, voice low to avoid Gale hearing you.

“Ah, I pay no mind to Astarion anyway,” Gale watched you as you placed the flowers neatly in a vase and filled it with water. “If I did, I sincerely doubt I’d be here at the moment,” he chuckled, and you beamed at the reply.

“You’re such a pain, Gale. You know that?” Astarion whined, before slipping back over to the couch.

“I’m sure he’s plenty aware,” Shadowheart called over her shoulder, focused on a book she had brought out.

“Thank you, Shadowheart, for your helpful insight on the matter,” Gale retorted, raising a hand to you once you were done with the bouquet. “Shall we?”

You took his hand, your face flushing again as he led you out the door. “We shall,” you answered, smiling sweetly at him.

“Bring her home before one!” Astarion called out as you both left.

“Oh, that may be difficult!” Gale retorted, allowing you to close the door behind you both as you departed.

“What, you plan on stealing me away for the whole evening?” You raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously, laughing as you interlocked your arms and he began to walk with you.

“Perhaps.. if you’d let me,” he nudged you gently, before leading you off to a small restaurant in the heart of the city.

“Hmm… it’ll depend on how this night goes,” you flirted, patting his arm tenderly. Soon enough, you were being seated inside the little restaurant, and looking over the menu. Everything looked… expensive. You didn't want to hurt the man’s coin pouch, assuming he was paying for it, but there weren't exactly any reasonable options, either.

“What are you getting?” You questioned, and he pointed to some mildly pricey menu item. That was your hint at expenses, and you picked a dish that sounded promising but wasn’t going to put you in debt if you ended up paying for yourself.

The date was filled with idle conversation, the two of you discussing parts of your home life here and there, commenting happily on the food you ate, and just sharing the good parts of yourselves. It was going great, extraordinary even.

Until he showed up.

Wyll Ravengard. You didn't even feel the eyes burning into the back of your head until you heard someone pleading with him to stop, attempting to keep him back. You flicked your attention over to the commotion, eyes going wide as you saw him. You wished you hadn’t made eye contact, that you’d minded your business, but you hadn’t. And now you had to deal with it.

You wanted to shrink down into yourself. Disappear into nothing- hide under the table like a small child. With the way things ended, how could you face him? He was a gentleman for your whole relationship— until he wasn’t. You couldn’t stand to see the face that spoke to you in such a way that night. No matter what influence he was under, what he did that night you broke up… you couldn’t forgive him.

You recalled the many nights after that fight, how depressed you had become. He tried several times to get your attention and apologize to you, but you were so wrapped up in yourself that it was hard to pay attention to anything. Some nights he was kindly about it, others he was swearing like a damned sailor who couldn't take no for an answer. You weren't sure who he had become, and no matter how hard he tried he was unable to reverse the past.

“Y/N!” He shouted your name, and you put your head in your hands. Maybe if you didn't see him, he would disappear.

“Wyll, please, not here-“ his friend Karlach, you recognized her as, tried to hold him back. But with his thrashing and flailing, he managed to worm his way free of her grasp.

“Impero te!” Gale moved to his feet quickly, and Wyll froze in place. You recognized the words as a command spell. It appeared Gale chose that over a holding spell, perhaps so he could speak with Wyll first. You knew it would wear off soon, so you placed your coin on the table and got up.

“Don’t you dare leave, Y/N!” Wyll exclaimed, and Gale turned to check up on you.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling faintly as you grabbed your things. “I’m just going to go outside for a minute.”

He nodded and waited for you to leave before his attention was on Wyll again.

You weren’t sure what happened after that, but only a little while later and both men were being tossed out by two guards you’d seen in the restaurant earlier. Gale’s face was down, his hand held up to his nose, and in the candle-lit street, you could faintly make out blood on his knuckles.

“You bastard!” Wyll ran to, presumably, take another swing, but Karlach grabbed him in time before he could.

“Gale-“ you rushed to his side, now that Karlach had a tight hold on Wyll, and checked him for any other injuries.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he soothed, despite the blood dripping down his face. You reached into the small bag you had brought and took out a cloth, gently wiping at his face.

“Does this jackass speak for you now, Y/N?” You heard Wyll snarl, followed by Karlach’s aggressive warnings for him to calm down.

“Mates, I’m really sorry for his behavior. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Can I pay you back for the dinner?” Karlach surrendered, nodding down to a small coin pouch at her hip.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to pay for his stupidity,” you answered, moving Gale to sit down on a nearby bench. “Tilt your head back..” you instructed, a delicate motherly tone to your voice, and he did so, holding the cloth tight against his nose.

As you spun to face Wyll, you saw he was bloodied just the same. You had to hand it to Gale, he was more than just a gentleman. You sighed, composed yourself, and put on your bravest ‘what the fuck are you doing’ face.

“What do you want, Wyll?” You coldly asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know what I want,” he huffed, still struggling in Karlach’s grasp.

“Actually, as a matter of fact, I don’t! It might surprise you, but I haven’t known what you wanted from me since the night we broke up. What could you possibly need from me after everything that transpired?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, irate with him. Thinking about that night hurt your mind and your heart, you’d much rather continue with your date like nothing happened. But, of course, the universe was always against you.

“Y/N-“ Wyll calmed slightly, his likely drunken stupor fading as he regained his senses seeing you like this. For a moment, he looked like how you remembered him. For a moment, he was yours again.

That quickly dissipated as he continued to speak, reaching towards you, begging, “I want you- I miss you. I should’ve never let this go, I should’ve never let that bastard get his hands on you. You’re mine, right? Like we used to say?”

You took a step back at his words, feeling sick to your stomach. After all this time, he still had that false hope he could get you back? That you still belonged to him? And what was worse, he called Gale a bastard. Again.

“I’ll have you know that bastard back there, is twice the man you ever were. I suggest you rethink your ownership because, to my knowledge, I belong to myself. I was finally- finally!- feeling free from your grasp and here you go, trying to steal my peace from me.” you clasped your hands together, groaning out in frustration before running a hand down your face. “I was done with you a long time ago, Wyll. Please, for the love of all of Faerún, let. Me. Go. Drop this faux apology and the pathetic act and move on with your life. That was embarrassing!” You sighed, running a hand down your face. The arguing in public was only adding to your humiliation, though many passersby just assumed you all were drunk.

“Y/N-“

“No, Wyll!” You cut him off, waving a hand dramatically to silence him. “I was so happy to be finally moving on from you and rebuilding myself after you left me in pieces and you had to come here and ruin it! You had to smash me to bits all over again! I just want to be happy, and you can’t even let me have that?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but you pushed them down like all your other worries. “Please, go home. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you anymore, I want to go home. Without you.” It seemed that those final words got to him, and he realized his defeat.

As much as you had loved him in the past, he was no longer who you loved now. It was beyond you to change him to become the man he used to be, and you cried for the day he would find the love he would become that for. You wished he could do that for you but you knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t even worth it anymore. Besides, you had to get Gale home and cleaned up anyway. What good would worrying about Wyll do for you?

“You’re sure you don’t want any coin, mate? I feel awful about all of this,” Karlach offered again, and you waved her off.

“Get him home safe, that’s all I ask,” you replied, and they were off. You watched as Wyll’s sad, defeated eyes stayed locked with yours until they were far enough away, and your heart broke all over again.

Gale knew when not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him, so he left that talking up to you. It was not his place to speak to Wyll for you, but his charming act of heroism in punching the shit out of Wyll was plenty for you.

You took another breath, unclenched the fists you had unknowingly created, and returned to Gale’s side.

“How are you doing?” You asked him, kneeling in front of him as he laughed softly.

“As good as a man with a broken nose can be. You don’t happen to have any healing potions on you, do you?” He replied, smiling at you.

“Not here, but I have some at home,” You offered, and he shook his head no to that.

“I’d rather not return to Astarion’s commentary on my little.. quandary here,”

You pondered for a moment, and then a metaphorical lightbulb appeared over your head. “Vis medicatrix,” you chanted, placing your hand on his arm to heal the wound. Blue light emitted from your palms and eyes for a moment and then faded. Why you hadn’t thought of that prior, you had no idea.

“There. How do you feel now?” You repeated, and Gale lowered the cloth from his nose. He breathed in and out a few times, and then nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re quite good at that,” he chuckled, trying to wipe off as much blood from his face as he could. His knuckles were covered in Wyll’s blood, you noted, and you were oddly surprised Gale didn’t have more marks on him from whatever took place inside.

“What even-“

“Perhaps later.”

You pursed your lips in understanding, standing straight as you waited for him. Where would you head off to now? He looked a mess, and you could hardly stand to be around everyone who had just witnessed what occurred. What would people say? They undoubtedly recognized Ravengard’s son, so what would the rumors tell about you? Those were worries for a later time.

“There’s a travel sigil nearby if you’d like to head to my home in Waterdeep with me,” Gale offered, and you interlocked your arms again when he stood up.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, letting him guide you home.

After a bit of walking and some magical travel, you were inside Gale’s rather lavish tower in Waterdedl. The walls were practically lined from floor to ceiling with books, showing his studious nature. The smell of thousand-year-old tomes and scrolls filled your lungs, mixed with the neverending hint of brandy and vanilla. He took good care of his belongings, despite his continued apologies over what he considered a mess. Though, the only clutter you saw was that of a well-studied scholar. It was impressive just how many books he had, and you wondered if he really had read all of them.

“I believe I have a bottle of Ithbank somewhere around here, let me get myself cleaned up first,” Gale offered, and you had half the nerve to speak up.

“Let me help you,” you proposed, and he smiled at you. That cheeky, knowing smile, akin to one Astarion would give you when you’d talk of something scandalous he was already doing. He nodded his head in the direction of his washroom and you followed along behind him, allowing him to sit on a small stool as you wet a rag.

“Well, go on,” you urged, tilting his face up by the chin as you stood between his legs. Gently, you began washing the blood off of his face. “What happened?”

“After you stepped outside, Wyll began saying some rather choice words,” Gale recounted, the night's events playing over in his mind, eyes ever trained on you. “He wouldn’t cooperate with leaving. He took the first swing, I assure you. It’s not like me to throw first, or even second. I usually counteract with magic but, albeit adrenaline was forefront in my mind, a more physical response felt qualified.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head as you took his hands and cleaned them off, too. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I just didn’t want to deal with him.” You informed him, wanting to make perfectly clear your reason for aversion.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. But I like to play the white knight now and then, if you’d indulge me,” he grinned, turning his hand in yours and taking it gently. He kissed the top of your palm in thanks for your help.

You giggled at him, splashing his face gently with water, to which he gasped, reached over towards the sink, and splashed you back. You both burst into laughter as you started a miniature water fight, flicking water droplets at one another. You, though, wouldn’t give up this nonsensical fight so easily, and splashed a small cup in his face. His expression turned sour and you darted out of the washroom, Gale quick on your tail, and began dashing around bookshelves to avoid him. The initial droplets soon became minor castings of ‘create water’, both of you careful not to damage the papers surrounding you.

“This honestly seems unfair!” He called over to you as you shimmied behind a small space between two bookshelves. Abruptly, he went quiet and you began to peek around some books to see where he was.

He didn’t even say a word as he wrung out his cloth over your head, your hair becoming completely wet.

“Gale!” You screeched, turning around to his shit-eating grin. You whipped out your cloth while grabbing his collar, suddenly pulled his shirt slightly off his body, and wrung out all the remaining water from yours down his chest. Then, you flattened his shirt against his chest, allowing it to become soaked in its own right.

He jumped slightly at the coolness and glared down at you, albeit playfully. He quickly pulled you against him by the waist, effectively getting your clothes damp, too.

“You know, this is one of my favorite shirts. It’s not supposed to get wet like this so the fibers don’t fray,” Gale hummed, staring down at you with a suggestive look in his eye.

“Oh? How ever will I repay you for ruining it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him with faux innocence.

He thought about it for a moment, pondered just a beat too long, and tugged you close against his hips. He leaned down towards you, letting his nose brush against your own.

“A simple apology should suffice,” he smiled softly, looking down into your eyes.

“Well,” you lowered your voice, your eyes flicked from his to his lips, and back up again. “I’m so sorry, Mister Dekarios..” your hands made their way to his chest, and you planted them flat against him. “I should dry this off for you too, shouldn’t I?” You pouted, pulling out the wide, cutesy eyes for him.

He took in a breath, placing one hand on top of yours while the other rested on your lower back. “While I love that offer..” he started, brushing his lips against yours, “Let’s take things slow, yes?” He asked, and your breath hitched. Good gods. You couldn’t believe how goddamn gorgeous he was up close. You wanted nothing more than to spend the whole night with him, whatever that would entail.

“Y/N-“

“Yes.” He didn’t even need to ask, but he started to anyway. Almost instantly, his lips were against your own, the hand on your back gently pulling you closer to him as if there was any distance keeping you apart. Your eyes fluttered closed, indulging yourself entirely the moment.

You replied instantly to him, grabbing at his shirt as you leaned up towards him. One of your hands released the fabric and slid up his shoulder, then into his hair, tugging gently.

He hummed happily in response to the pull, grabbing tighter at your waist. After another beat, he drew back and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Gale…” Your eyes slowly opened again, ever so slightly still shut, looking up at him with an unknown kind of intensity and love.

“I know��” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips again, before he trailed down your neck with them, his hands solid against your back and keeping you steady.

You let out a soft, satisfied little groan, running your hands through his hair. He pulled back again after another brief indulgement of his thoughts and looked down at you. He was so perfect, you almost felt bad for making him deal with you and all your imperfections.

“Can I stay the night with you?” You asked, and then panicked as you realized he might get the wrong idea. “Not- like- we don’t have to do anything! I just… want to be here… with you…” your voice went quieter by the minute, and he chuckled at your shyness in asking.

Tilting your head up by the chin, he calmed your nerves. “Of course, you can,” he leaned down to you, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

He slowly pulled away from you, his hands ghosting on your waist before he stepped back, coaching you to follow him with his all-knowing smirk, bringing you to his kitchen. As you followed, he pulled out the aforementioned bottle of Ithbank and two glasses. You hopped up onto one of the counters, watching him pour into each.

“So, I have to know,” he began, handing you the wine, “if you’d be willing to share,” he took a sip from his glass, stepping between your legs this time, “what exactly happened with Wyll? Because that kind of a reaction from someone doesn’t suggest that the breakup was just messy, it suggests that it was, well, horrid to say the least.”

You took the wine glass from him, wrapped your legs around his waist, and sighed loudly. “I’d like to know about you and your ex first,” you replied, taking a sip slowly, “I don’t know much about you and right now the scales are quite imbalanced,” you finished, setting your glass down beside you. You leaned forward, draping your arms over his shoulders, and began to mess with his hair.

“Ah, Mystra…” he chuckled, though it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it usually was. He pursed his lips together, frowned slightly, and then began to speak.

“As you may know, Mystra is the Goddess of Magic, the Mother of the Weave, if you will. And I, myself, am a rather proclaimed wizard,” he started, bringing your arms down from his shoulders as he stepped back. He began to manipulate the weave around you both, a soft purple light shimmering and sparkling between and around you. “From a young age, I was using the Weave. I had much of it mastered by the time I was just ten years old. One of Mystra’s former chosen, Elminster, took it upon himself to train me in her absence, as she was not alive at that point.”

You saw the face of a man, conjured by Gale, who you could only assume was the Elminster he spoke of.

“When Mystra came back, she had lost a part of herself in her former death. Thus, she was weak. But, she could still sense my fascination and usage of the Weave. Soon enough, she began appearing to me. Only briefly, mind you, she was still far too injured to show herself entirely, but she still did.” This time, you saw the face of a rather beautiful woman, whom he alluded to as Mystra. How had he given up a Goddess? Well, you’d find out.

“At that time, she picked me to become one of her Chosen. Recognizing my skill for harnessing the Weave, and understanding my desire and devotion to her, it was an obvious choice. She started mentoring me, showing me parts of the Weave I had not yet discovered,” he continued, using visualizations of the encounters to help guide the storyline. “Eventually, we became friends. And then, even closer than that. Lovers. I desired to become great for her- intertwine our souls together, prove just how much I loved her. Remind you, she was dead for a long time,” he paused, making sure you were following him.

“When she came back, she had to regain the parts of the Weave that she had lost. I, knowing this, happened across a tome that told of a portion of the Weave that Mystra had not yet been reacquainted with. Lost to time, the elements, and Mystra’s long respite, this part of the Weave had gone uncollected by her and was still separate. It was imbued with Netherese magic from the folly of one of her chosen from many centuries prior, that in of itself is a story for another time. I sought to retrieve it and return it to her as an act of love- or, perhaps, egotism. I shall never know the true intent of my heart in those days, but, rest assured, I am no longer the same,” he smiled warily at you, hoping he was not losing you in everything. Both in the storybook tale he was telling, and romantically.

“The act of mine failed, rather horrendously so. What mortal man takes a piece of the weave for himself? A selfish one, indeed. Cursed with this portion, it was bestowed upon me. There are many details that I’m leaving for the sake of not boring you, but in a gist that is what happened. And now, this Netherese magic rests within me, seeking out parts of the weave to regain what it too had previously lost. Without magical artifacts, death very well could be the consequence. So, safe to say, I am no longer on my Goddess’ good side,” he paused, debating on what else to say. “It’s an arcane hunger, that’s what my Tressym, Tara, and I have figured out. I must consume those artifacts regularly to ease the hunger and calm the orb, otherwise I’ll… well, let’s just say it won’t exactly be very pretty.” He laughed slightly again, that sad, disheartened chuckle, and you felt terrible for him.

Mystra had essentially cursed the man she claimed to love, and you found that unfair. Why wouldn’t she just reabsorb the magic? Why put him under duress when all he wanted to do was prove his devotion? You would never say it aloud, but you despised the Gods and their unusual cruelty at times.

“I… don’t know what to say. That’s awful, Gale.” You realized that the details he had provided to you on your initial date were rather vague. Now that he explained it in more depth, your situation with Wyll felt minuscule in comparison. What’s a lover's quarrel in the shadow of a devoted, lovesick chosen being cursed with a gift he intended for his Goddess?

“Do not pity me, Y/N. It’s the consequence of a foolish man seeking more than he could attain. Had I not been blinded by my insatiable need to grow stronger and unlock arcane secrets that were not mine to know, I would not be here. Mystra had told me to be content, and I just couldn’t listen. But had I, I would not be with you. If going back in time meant that I would lose out on what I have now, I would suffer it all over a thousand times more,” he smiled at you, the magic fading as he returned and stood in front of you again.

“You’d suffer through losing your Goddess’ favor for me?” You asked, and he nodded. The look in his eye… was one of complete seriousness. While soft, you could see the determination behind his gaze. He did not intend to fault you like he faulted his Goddess. He wanted to savor this, savor you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared, or honored. What else was he willing to risk for you?

“I’d disown even the angriest of Gods if it resulted in our union being inseparable,” he placed his hand under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I have only known you for a short period of my life, and yet I’d live a thousand more years with you if I could.”

You felt your eyes water, the sentiment touching your heart. You looked towards the ground, before throwing your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, and he pulled you close against him.

“Thank you, for everything,” you told him, burying your face into his chest. He held you just like that for a moment, allowing his head to rest on top of yours. When you finally pulled away, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes, he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you again.

“You’re adorable,” he laughed softly, kissing you again and again. Your giggles broke the kisses and you whacked him gently on the chest to get him to stop.

“Are you alright? I know that was quite a lot to take in,” he asked, and you admired his sensitivity to your headspace.

“I’m alright. I’m still stuck on the fact you eat magical items, though,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Alright, alright. Enough about me. It’s your turn,” he wrapped the conversation back around to you and Wyll, and it pained you for a second to think about it.

And then you looked at him, enjoying his glass of wine with you, and you couldn’t help but feel connected enough to talk about it.

Until you heard the birds chirping happily outside, the two of you labored over the blow-up with Wyll. It was a weight off your shoulders, bantering with him about all the shitty things that happened that night. Like two drunken schoolgirls talking shit about a mutual ex-friend, you both couldn’t help it.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, just that you were comfortable, warm, and safe. Safe within the tight hold of Gale’s arms, under the silk sheets that lined his bed.

You had this inkling feeling that all was right in the world. The universe, for once, was back on your side. Back on his side. It was like mending a pot with the age-old art of kintsugi- melding two broken pieces together with gold-dusted glue. Was it perfect? By no means. But it was together. It was whole.

You were whole again.

At least, until you got abducted by Mindflayers.

116 notes · View notes

last-herondale · 1 year

Text

“Honesty”

Twilight x FemReader (Team Jacob)

Swearing, angst

Tw: mention of abuse, death,

A/N: Hellllooo. I had a scene idea where the reader, who is Jacob’s imprint, has an uncomfortable conversation with Edward Cullen, basically calling him out on his bullshit. This scene takes place during the events of BD pt 1; before Bella gives birth.

I have other fics that follow this head cannon that I will link below, if you’re interested!

Enjoy 🤘🏼

Forks had always been lovely to you, especially in the Fall. Leaves scattered the ground outside of the Cullen’s house- or mansion was more like it- and the wind was blowing softly through the trees, making a calming music under the night sky. Jacob, Leah, and Seth had gone out on patrol. You had been out for most of the morning and afternoon, monitoring the makeshift parameter around the Cullen house for any signs of Sam and his pack. His pack. The idea still felt odd to you, that there would ever be more than one pack. But Jacob had broken the bond. He was his own Alpha now.

It was never a choice for you, not really, when Jacob left the pack. He was your tether to the world. Wherever he went, you would follow. And so here you were, aiding the love of your life in protecting the girl he loved, and her unborn child. You wondered what you had done in your past life to have made fate design your life the way it had. It was starting to become slightly humorous. You sat on the bottom of the Cullen’s steps, leaning your body on the sleek siding and resting your head. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically from the past couple of days. Constantly being alert, constantly being in wolf form, was draining to say the least.

“You are more than welcome to use a chair,” a cool, familiar voice said behind you. Your body tensed instinctively, as the eerie silent presence of Edward Cullen stood beside you. “I’m fine here, thanks,” you muttered. Edward said nothing but took a few steps closer. “May I?” He asked, indicating to the spot beside you. You just shrugged, refusing to look at him. He sat down next to you and sat there in silence for a moment. The smell of him, the sickly-sweet stench of a vampire, crept into your nostrils. You had adjusted to the smell months ago, during the newborn battle, but even still, it made your body tense.

“How is Bella?” You finally ask. You had seen her before going on patrol this morning, and she looked as she had the day before. On the cusp of death. Edward clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to admit she was worse, and so the two of you just sat there. “You are very hard to read,” Edward finally said. That made you turn your head towards him, your eyebrows arched. “What?” “You’re different then the others. I’ve never been able to get quite a grasp of your thoughts. Just snippets here and there,” he said this as if he was mildly frustrated.

“You can’t read my thoughts?” You asked, slightly amused. “Not exactly,” he admitted, “I can still read bits and pieces, like strong emotions or muted memories… but specific thoughts no, I cant. It’s similar to Bella’s father, Charlie, but a little bit more difficult.”

“Well,” you sighed, “I’m not surprised.” Edward gave you a patient look, waiting for you to continue. “When I first joined the pack, they had a difficult time hearing my thoughts too. I could hear them down the bond just fine, but I sounded muffled and far away to them. They don’t know why I’m like this, but it seems as though you’re not the only one who can’t crack my head.”

“How does that work then? How do you communicate with them if they can’t hear you?” He seemed genuinely curious, and you just shrugged. “I don’t know, I just learned that yelling certain thoughts down the bond can break through. But I prefer it this way,” you said, “I don’t need everyone to know what’s in my head.”

It had been an unforeseen blessing. For whatever reason, your mind was guarded in a way that you didn’t understand. It was how you were able to hide your imprint from Jacob and the rest of the pack.

Edward was quiet in thought for a while, and you wished he would leave you alone. He was the last person you wanted to talk to. “I can hear that you know,” Edward said quietly. “Hear what?” You asked in a flat tone. “Your anger towards me. You’ve been feeling that quite strongly today.” He said it so matter of factly that you glared at him. “Is that why you’re out here? To figure out why I’m mad at you?” You asked between gritted teeth.

“I would feel better knowing, yes.” He said cooly. “Feel better?” You laughed bitterly, “why would I want to make you feel better, after the shit you pulled today?”

You bit your lip immediately after the words came out. Edward’s face softened slightly as realization hit him. “Ah,” he said, “this is about what I said to Jacob.” You clenched your jaw when he mentioned his name. You had heard the conversation play over in Jacob’s head repeatedly this morning. He couldn’t hide his thoughts from you, and you were infuriated with what had occurred.

“She could have a whole litter of puppies if that’s what she wants. Please Jacob.”

You gritted your teeth at the memory. Edward had wanted to use Jacob for his own purposes. He knew Jacob’s willingness, his absolute need to keep Bella alive, and he was willing to further shatter Jacob’s heart in order to achieve his goal. You had nearly convulsed with anger that morning, and kept far away from Jacob and the Cullens.

You stood up and began walking away from Edward, anger fueling your tired body. Suddenly he was in front of you, his face looking at the ground apologetically.

“Please understand, I was trying to save her,” his voice sounded oddly strained, “I wouldn’t have asked him if there was any other way.” You said nothing, your heart pounded as you moved past him and continued into the woods. “I understand that you love him (y/n)-“ Edward said loudly. You spun on your heel, red blazing in your vision as you stuck your finger in Edward’s face.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You hissed, “You understand nothing. Do you hear me? NOTHING!” You kept your voice low, so as to not alert anyone in the house, or any of your pack that might be close by. Edward did not flinch from you, but he held his gaze that almost seemed sympathetic. You wanted to punch him.

“I may not know the full extent of what imprinting means,” he began cautiously, “But I know enough of what i can see through your eyes when you are around him. I’ve at least felt a fraction of your imprint bond with him, and even then I know how far that connection lies.”

“You know nothing,” you spat again.

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do for him?” Edward challenged, his voice steady and low, “to keep him safe? To protect him?”

You gave a dry laugh, “is that what you think love is? Protecting and shielding? Is that what you’ve done for Bella since you’ve known her, because you’ve done a stand up job so far.”

Edward gave a low snarl at the mention of Bella’s name. “Oh shut the fuck up,” you snapped, “You do not get to have a pity party with me right now. Not after everything you’ve done.” You had never been so short with Edward before. You had always kept your emotions at bay, not only for Jacob’s sake, but for Bella’s as well. But today was not one of those days.

“Yes, I imprinted on Jacob,” you hissed, hating to admit this under these terms, to Edward of all people. “From the first day I met him, we have been bonded in a way that you will never understand. Do you know what that means?” Edward said nothing, his lips stayed in a hard line, letting you continue. “It means that for the past year, I have had to endure his pain, his anger, and his heartache.”

The words felt almost freeing to say, to admit out loud. For so long you had to conceal these emotions, curb your thoughts in order to play as the peacemaker. “I am there for him in any capacity that he needs me to be. I try, in every way possible to piece his heart together from the damage that she has inflicted on him since she moved here!”

“Do not blame this on her!” He growled.

“Is she blameless though?” You snapped back, fury grew in your chest. “The way she uses Jacob for comfort, strings him along to make herself feel whole, all the while he gets the short end of the stick? Tell me how that isn’t her fault?” You felt the transformation at the base of your spine. Your body wanted, no- needed a release. Usually you were so careful, but right now your emotions were spilling out at a dangerous pace. Dangerous thoughts filled your head. How life would have been like had Bella never shown up to Forks. How much heartache everyone would be saved. Then you wouldn’t have to be having this stupid conversation with Edward Cullen.

You knew by the look in his eyes that he was able to pick up on a few tidbits of your thoughts. You thought maybe he would lunge at you for thinking of Bella like that, but instead he just sighed and crossed his arms.

“You don’t mean that,” he said calmly, “You don’t blame Bella. You don’t hate her, no matter how much you may try to convince yourself to.”

You clenched your hands. You hated him telling you what you thought, but he was right wasn’t he? You didn’t hate Bella. You never did. The two of you had become close friends over the past year. Whenever she wasn’t with Jacob, Bella oftentimes found herself at Emily’s house- talking with you. All of the memories you had with Bella, the gentle, shy, and rather determined girl that she was, flooded through your mind, cooling the fire in your blood. She was one of your best friends. You had even been a bridesmaid at her wedding. That’s why you could never force yourself to hate her, even if Jacob was in love with her.

You narrowed your eyes at Edward, embers of anger still simmering in your blood.

“You’re right, this isn’t Bella’s fault,” you agreed, “it’s yours.” Edward kept his mouth shut, almost as if he agreed with you. “When you left Bella, you destroyed her. Mentally, physically. She was as good as dead!” You hissed. Edward flinched at your words but you kept going. “When you left, he helped heal her heart. He drove himself mad trying to make her feel better, all while struggling with his own transformation.”

“Jacob does so much for her,” you said in a shaky breath, “He has risked his life for her, he deserted his family to be here for her, he nearly died-“ you choked off the last word. The image of Jacob being crushed by the newborn made you sick to your stomach.

“Bella is alive because of him, and yet you have the audacity to ask more of him? To use him as a pawn? He deserves more than that.” You finally finished. “Do you think you’re the only one who risks losing everything if things don’t work out?” You hadn’t been stupid. You knew the likely hood of Bella’s death if she was determined to have this child. You knew what chain of events that would lead too. Edward had already proven what he would do if he lost Bella, and you had seen Jacob contemplate similar outcomes in his head, many of them were too painful to watch.

Edward gave you a sympathetic look, and his face softened. You wondered what he saw from your thoughts. If your words were enough to reach him in any capacity.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, “I truly am. For everything. I’m just terrified that I’m going to lose her…” for a moment he even looked vulnerable. You had never seen him like this. And you never thought that once this moment came that you would feel… pity for him. After everything.

“Look, Edward,” you began, uncertain of how to approach him, “I know you want to protect Bella. I know what it’s like to have your whole existence revolve around someone. I know what it’s like to want to do everything you possibly can to ensure that they are safe, to want them to be happy, to feel loved…but sometimes we have to take into account what they want, no matter how much it may kill us.”

“Jacob may never stop loving Bella. He might always choose her, no matter what I do. And that’s his choice. I would never want to force him to be anything or anyone that he isn’t.” The words stung as they left your mouth, but they felt true, rumbling deep in your chest.

“ And you need to do the same for Bella. She wants this baby. She is choosing to have this baby. You cannot force her out of this without risking her hating you for the rest of your life. I know you might think that’s the better alternative, that at least then she would be safe, but hate and resentment has a way of killing just as fast. Besides, Bella is stronger than you think. How many times does she have to prove that to you?”

Edward thought on your words for a moment. The night sky burned its stars around the edge of the forest. The wind was cool against your warm skin and it blew tendrils of your hair around your face. Edward looked thoughtful, his golden eyes pierced through the night. Finally, he stepped closer to you and put a hand on your shoulder, his skin hard and cold to the touch.

“Thank you, (y/n). I needed to hear that.” Edward removed his hand off of you and put his hands in his pockets. “Fear is such a human emotion, and I think it has brought out the most desperate side of me as of recently. I am truly sorry. For everything.”

The two of you held eye contact. Words felt meaningless at this point. Your brain was tired and your nerves were fried. You felt as if you bared your soul. You never felt more exposed and raw as you did then. Whats done is done. You just nodded to Edward and turned towards the forest and began walking. There was no point in resting now, so you decided that you might as well join the patrol.

“I wont mention this to him,” Edward said softly, low enough to where you could hear as you walked away, “I hope one day he realizes just how much he is loved.”

And with that final tear in your heart, you shifted into your wolf form and ran off into the forest, leaving Edward Cullen alone in the dark.

#twilight fic #twiligh x reader #team jacob #jacob black x reader #fan fic author #edward cullen #twilight #imprint #soulmates #werewolves #vampires

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tearwolfe · 7 months

Text

sorry i have the absolute worst brain worms imaginable right now. first ruikasa fic, let's go.

like my last and only other fic, this one is set in my supercyber AU- a project sekai cyberpunk x supernatural (genre) dystopian world. characters are aged up in this AU, which really doesn't have much to do with the fic itself other than the fact that rui has an apartment.

as for a summary... vampire!tsukasa does his vampire things (blood sucking) and rui nearly passes out. enjoy <3

(content warnings: blood, vampire shenanigans, making out, a little bit of hurt/comfort)

FANDOM: Project Sekai: Colorful Stage

CHARACTERS: Rui Kamishiro, Tsukasa Tenma

WORD COUNT: 2,941

The morning when Tsukasa got back, Rui knew something was off. He didn’t go off on some long tangent about how something crazy happened like he did on occasion when he wasn’t feeling at his best. He just entered the apartment, grumbled a greeting to the alchemist who had been working on a new project on the kitchen floor, and trudged off to the bathroom. The sight Rui got of him was covered in dark, maroon blood. This wasn’t particularly surprising, he had gotten quite used to the pungent odor of rogue blood. Even so, his lack of enthusiasm was worrying.

Rui decided that he was going to talk to him whenever he got out of the shower. He put a pause on his project, putting the pieces into a box that would be safe, out of harm’s way. He pushed the box to the side of the kitchen and stood up, pulling the goggles off of his head. Living with Tsukasa had turned him into a night owl of sorts. He would spend all night working on new inventions while the vampire was out, and when Tsukasa would return, he would spend the morning with him, before the two slept the afternoon away. He figured it was a dangerous cycle, as a human never really having time to see the sunlight, but he was happy to just be with Tsukasa. He was the only light Rui needed.

After a bit of waiting around, Tsukasa finally stepped out of the bathroom. His long hair was still damp, and he had changed into one of Rui’s old t-shirts. The alchemist noticed that his eyes seemed darker than usual.

“Tsukasa-kun!” He dashed over to greet him, hoping that the shower had refreshed him. “How was your night?” Rui gave him a smile, stopping just a few paces in front of the vampire.

Tsukasa grunted in response, looking past him. “It was fine, nothing really to talk about.”

This was wholly unusual. Rui knew that he loved to talk. Something was definitely wrong.

“Hey, are you feeling alright?” he asked, turning his head and giving Tsukasa a once-over. He didn’t seem to have any obvious, life-threatening wounds.

“I said I’m fine. I just want to go to bed.” He was given such a curt response. Though his words were believable, the tone of his voice said otherwise. Not wanting to just stand there longer than he had to, Tsukasa pushed past Rui, headed toward the apartment bedroom.

A hand gripped onto his wrist stopped him.

He whipped back around, a wild look in his eyes, and his fangs bared. The image shocked Rui- never had Tsukasa snapped at him like that before. “Let. Go of me.” He felt the tendon in his wrist shift as he flexed his claws. Rui’s stomach churned, a nervous feeling welling up inside of him. Even so, he refused to release the hold on him.

“Tsukasa, let me help you. Talk to me.”

His scarlet eyes bore deep into Rui. The vampire swallowed thickly, a small bead of saliva escaping his lips. The crazy look he had turned to one of desperation, and his eyebrows furrowed.

Tsukasa let out a shaky breath. “Do you trust me?”

What kind of question was that? Rui’s face remained stern. “Of course I do,” he spoke in response. The grip on his wrist loosened.

“I need your blood. Please.” It sounded like he was begging. The pang of fear inside him turned into empathy. It was true, now that Rui thought about it, that he had never once seen the vampire drink blood. He never questioned him about it, knowing that vampires had their own way to source blood without harming people. But to hear Tsukasa sound so frantic really made him feel for him. There wasn’t much Rui could think of that he wouldn’t do for him.

He had always wondered what having his blood drank from the fangs of a vampire felt like.

Rui just nodded, noticing the slight look of relief in Tsukasa’s eyes. What would he have done if I said no..?

Tsukasa pulled his arm from the loose hold and took the alchemist’s hand instead, guiding him into the living room. Almost forcefully, he pushed him toward the couch, climbing on after him. Everything seemed to happen so fast that it overwhelmed Rui- one moment he was standing in front of the bathroom, and now he was shoved onto the couch, the vampire hovering over him, saliva dripping from his lips.

“Hey, hold on-” he grabbed onto Tsukasa’s shoulders, preventing him from diving straight into his neck. His face was flushed, golden eyes wide. “Not the neck. Not yet.” Rui looked away, embarrassed.

The pitiful whine he heard from the other was not something he expected. Tsukasa sat back, next to Rui on the couch, who glanced back at him. A defeated expression was plastered across his face, thick drool cascading down his chin, his breathing heavy.

Oh my god, it was worse than he thought.

As much as the unprecedented sight of Tsukasa sitting before him like that stirred his curiosity, he couldn’t just let him suffer and starve. Rui pulled the glove off his human hand and presented his arm to him.

“Here, my arm is fine.” He paused, feeling the need to explain. “My neck is just too.. Intimate right now. Not for the first time.” He scratched the back of his neck with his opposite hand, a light blush crossing his nose. Tsukasa didn’t argue. He wasted no time pulling Rui’s arm closer and hunching over.

A gasp escaped the alchemist’s mouth, the pain of Tsukasa’s fangs deep into his skin taking him by surprise. The sting was quickly eased as a numbing sensation traveled up his arm, focused around the bite. He grunted softly, the vampire now sucking at the wound.

Rui allowed himself to relax, slowing his breathing. There was an absence of pain now, which piqued the alchemist’s interest. It would continue to hurt if a human had bitten and sucked on the wound, however because Tsukasa was a vampire, it seemed he had a mechanism that quelled the pain. Perhaps it was a paralyzing agent all vampires contained, in order to immobilize their prey? Thinking of himself as Tsukasa’s prey made him shudder. He averted his eyes, his face flushing at the thought.

The pressure on his arm was released, and he took a deep breath. When the vampire slowly lifted his head from the spot he had latched to, Rui peered at his arm. Two punctures were left behind, tiny spots of blood bubbling up from under his skin. The area was wet from saliva.

Tsukasa’s eyes met his, their usual sunset orange a deep red. A small trail of blood trickled from his parted lips. Rui’s mind had gone foggy- why was he so trained on his lips? The hand that was formerly wrapped around Rui’s arm moved to sit on his knee, and Tsukasa leaned forward.

“Rui, can I kiss you?” he asked, eye contact unwavering. With the way Tsukasa was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed, mouth opened enough to reveal two pointed teeth, Rui felt like his question was more of a demand. He could barely give him a nod before the vampire closed the gap between them.

He felt a cold hand reach up to hold his flushed face. As Tsukasa’s lips pressed into his, he closed his eyes, submitting to his affection. The blond moved closer, swinging a leg over Rui’s legs, and shifting his body to straddle his lap. Rui gasped at the sudden adjustment, but Tsukasa just pushed deeper into the kiss. His hands found themselves a spot on his back, holding onto his thin shirt.

Rui was finding it exceptionally difficult to think. Between the movement against his lips and the newfound weight in his lap, he was afflicted with a warm feeling inside him, even warmer than the blush across his cheeks.

A wetness touched his lips, and Rui quickly gave in. He parted his lips, allowing Tsukasa’s tongue inside. He was immediately met with the metallic taste of blood. Only moments before, his vampire was eagerly drinking from his arm. There was something so personal about tasting his own blood from the mouth of someone else. Wait, his vampire? God, Rui was in deep now. A soft moan escaped his throat as Tsukasa pushed deeper into his mouth, his tongue pressing against his own. He felt hands tangled in his plum hair, tugging gently. The blond returned a hungry moan into Rui, clearly enjoying the work he was doing.

Rui’s breathing grew heavier as the kiss increased in passion. It felt so, so good, kissing Tsukasa like this. He held on tight to the other’s back, desperately not wanting to let go. The fog in his brain was only thickening, clouding his thoughts further. The touch of Tsukasa’s sharp fangs in his mouth drove him nearly mad. He wouldn’t mind being bitten by those teeth every day. Just the thought caused his already-flushed cheeks to darken. It was becoming hard to breathe.

Tsukasa pulled his mouth away, licking the saliva from his lips. The alchemist’s eyes fluttered open, noting the defined rising and falling of the vampire’s chest. Tsukasa was so pretty. It was unusual for him to be so direct. Not that Rui didn’t enjoy him so unwaveringly taking charge. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open, and leaned into the back of the couch. He felt as if his consciousness was going to easily slip away, and his breathing was ragged.

“Rui..?” he heard a familiar voice. He hummed in response, turning his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck. “Rui!” he jolted awake, Tsukasa’s hands now on his shoulders, shaking him. His wide eyes met the vampire’s, formerly red returned to their usual orange.

The unmistakable feeling of dizziness overtook Rui. He closed his eyes once again, letting out a groan. “Shit,” Tsukasa cursed under his breath, just loud enough for Rui to register. The weight that had once sat upon him had left. The sound of footsteps departed, and returned as quickly as they had gone. He felt the couch shift.

“Here, drink.” Despite his tiredness, Rui opened his eyes. Tsukasa, now sat next to him on the couch, was holding an opened bottle of water to his lips. He weakly nodded his head, and the bottle was lifted upward, allowing the water to glide into his mouth. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he had become. The cool water felt so nice going down his throat. After a few moments, Tsukasa pulled the bottle away from him and screwed the cap back on. Rui watched as he put it down on the ground in front of the couch, and when he leaned back up, he noticed that the vampire had something else in his hands. He fiddled with it, the familiar sound of tearing plastic met Rui’s ears.

Now, Tsukasa held a breakfast bar in front of his mouth. “Eat this.”

Sense was beginning to return to Rui. His mind was certainly still muddled, but the warm feeling he had was going away. “What? Are you my mother or something?” he finally spoke. Tsukasa, however, was not taking this as an answer, so he shoved one end of the bar into Rui’s mouth before he had a chance to close it. He let out a muffled grunt, lifting his hand to take the other end of the breakfast bar, and took a bite.

As he chewed, Tsukasa explained. “I.. I haven’t taken blood directly from the source in a while,” he stated, a nervous edge to his voice. “I forgot that it wasn’t a good idea for you to uhm.. Not eat anything before. And I was really hungry.” He had his gaze trained on something past Rui, refusing to make direct eye contact. “I’m really sorry, I got carried away.” The pointed tips of his ears were becoming flushed. He stood up once again, swiftly making a trip to the bathroom.

Although the dizziness began to subside, Rui still felt tired. The cloudiness in his mind was dissipating. It was somehow reassuring that the way he felt was due to blood loss, rather than being down so astronomically bad for the vampire like he initially thought. He silently finished his bar and wadded up the wrapper, throwing it onto the floor. That was a problem for future Rui to deal with.

Once Tsukasa returned, he held a small, plastic container. He opened it, revealing the contents inside to be first-aid supplies. He knelt on the ground, in front of the couch, and gently took Rui’s arm. The blood had stopped flowing for some time now, and it had begun to dry. He pulled out a packaged disinfecting wipe and unwrapped it, pressing the wipe to his wound. The contact of the disinfectant on the puncture stung, causing Rui to clench his teeth. He let out a strained sigh as the vampire softly rubbed at the area, making sure to clean any excess blood. Once that was done, Rui watched Tsukasa take a larger band aid from the first-aid kit, unwrap it, and stick it onto the bite mark. He paused for a few moments, staring at his work, before returning to the container to shut it. He stood up, preparing to make an exit from the living room, but Rui leaned forward and took hold of his wrist.

“Come here, it’s okay. I’m fine,” Rui reassured, tugging on his arm to pull him back to the couch. The look Tsukasa gave him stabbed right through his heart; his eyes were wide, tears threatening to fall, and his typical smile was replaced with a frown. Oh, god. “No, no, no, don’t cry!”

Tsukasa brought his hand up to his face, shaking his head. “I’m not!” His arm was pulled again, and this time he fell onto the couch next to the alchemist. Rui let go of his wrist, moving his arm to wrap it around the other, and pulled him closer. “I just- I don’t want to hurt you. And I messed up,” he sniffled, leaning into his touch.

“You didn’t hurt me, like I said before, I’m fine,” Rui soothed, rubbing circles into the blond’s side. Tsukasa looked up at him. His eyes were glistening, but his cheeks were not wet. That was a relief. Rui didn’t want to be the reason for Tsukasa to cry. He had found himself becoming more and more attached to this goofy vampire that dropped so abruptly into his life. He wouldn’t want to do anything to drive him away. The status of their particular relationship refused to be given a name- they weren’t lovers, but they were clearly more than friends. It was a complicated matter to the alchemist, so Rui didn’t particularly feel the need to ask Tsukasa’s feelings on the situation. The two lived in comfortable affection.

Rui averted his eyes. “Anyway, I kind of… enjoyed it.” Blush was creeping up his neck and across his face. Was that weird to admit…? The initial sting of Tsukasa’s fangs breaking his skin, paired with the paralyzing numbness that came after, was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt so personal, so intimate, Rui now wondered how it would feel to have the blood sucked from his neck, rather than the arm. He didn’t have any blood to spare right now, but… his eyes landed back on Tsukasa’s, who was just staring at him, face as equally red.

“Hmm..?” Rui’s voice came out higher than expected. This was so embarrassing.

“Enjoyed it?” the vampire repeated back to him. He nodded. There was a brief awkward silence where the two just stared at each other, until Tsukasa broke it with a smirk, followed by a chuckle.

Tsukasa’s hand reached up, fingertips brushing the side of Rui’s neck. He did not consider himself a bashful guy by any means, but by god, Tsukasa was going to turn him to jelly. “Of course you did,” he spoke, as if Rui were just stating the obvious. “I didn’t take you for the kind of person who wouldn’t bend to the temptation of a vampire.”

HUH? “What’s that supposed to mean?!” the alchemist choked out, golden eyes flitting about the room before landing back on the smug-faced Tsukasa. The chipper air had returned to him. However, he seemed to be using the change in mood for evil. His finger hooked under his choker, tugging against his throat slightly. This caused a noise to escape Rui that he wasn’t even aware he could make, his cheeks now bright red. Tsukasa pressed a kiss to his neck.

“-kasa please,” he breathed out, “you’re going to make me pass out for real this time.”

The vampire seemed to contemplate his options, before tilting back away from him. His hand trailed from his neck, down to his collarbone, and stayed there. “I am glad though, Rui.” His eyes rested on the other’s chest. “That you trust me. That’s not something I’m used to- coming from a human. Thank you for that.”

Rui smiled. Tsukasa was so genuine with him, the care he shared would be difficult to put in words, but he truly appreciated the time he put into what they had. Even if their circumstances were odd, Rui loved the time spent with him. He pulled his hand up, running it through blond hair. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on Tsukasa’s forehead.

“I’d do anything for you, starshine.”

------------------------------------------

oh my god. i'm going to go die now. i hope you liked it.

#project sekai #prsk #fanfiction #fanfic #ruikasa #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #supercyber au

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nightcolorz · 2 months

Note

For the ask game: ❤️💚💙

YAYY thank u sm for the ask! these questions r so fun. I’m going off of the book fandom btw

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

Louis <3 I think this is an affect of how likable and overtly sympathetic he is in the amc show but I've seen people getting genuinely offended over Louis being described in fandom (and by Anne rice herself) as a manipulative cold hearted ass who uses his perceived vulnerability and gentleness to distract from the fact that he is just as cruel if not crueler then the other vampires. Like Louis does nottt have strong morals or high empathy lmao. Book Louis weaponizes his privilege like a white woman crying to self victimize into making the other vampires look worse them him 😭 . He refuses to kill humans for a while not bcus it hurts him to take life (he actually takes more pleasure in it then most), he refuses bcus he has catholic brain the way a christians who say "how do atheists have morals without god?" do, misunderstanding that most people actually care about other people and dont need an existential threat to encourage them not to hurt others.

His moral compass is self centered and based in up keeping the appearance of self restraint and monk style lack of enjoying himself, not empathy. If a vampire killed u would u feel better if u knew he cried over how much he got off on it then flaunted his suffering over how little he indulged so that everyone knew how piosis he was 😭.

He is way worse when it comes to how he treats his victims then Armand who intentionally seeks out victims who r asking to die or Lestat who tries the vigilante approach. Louis kills innocents and he thinks it makes him better cuz he only does it sometimes and he feels really really bad about himself afterwards. As akasha said (paraphrased) he's the most predatory of them all.

To specify I love book Louis SOOOO much I love how shitty he is that's why it makes me sad when people mischaracterize him as sincere and get gen mad when ppl characterize him how he is in canon (a lying selfish bitch bless his heart). Like ik amc Louis at this point in canon is unambiguously in the right but he isn't like an accurate reflection of how he is in the books 😭 it's not like amc did what anne rice was trying to do more successfully, they just nulled what anne rice was doing in favor of a more likable protagonist. Which is fine, but like, there's no crime in preferring evil to the core horrible asshole Louis of the books.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

I think the common fandom perception of Armand as the crazy unhinged "omg I can't believe he actually did that in the books??" sadistic maniac villain guy is funny but not really accurate. Armand explicitly not only tries to avoid violence but dislikes it and finds it hard to comprehend why someone would seek out violence and conflict.

The reason he is always doing fucked up shit isn't out of a lestat-esc desire to cause chaos, it's bcus his highly strung ptsd brain has him convinced that the world is a battle ground and he must always be defending himself and acting out in violence.

Since acting out in violence is a reaction hes been taught throughout his life to be standard and necessary, as violence is something so normalized to him he considers it more of a tedious chore then a last resort measure, he usually reacts to conflict in ways that are objectively extreme to anyone who isn't thinking from his perspective. In qotd he even asks Daniel why men choose to fight in wars, explaining that he doesn't understand the draw of violence (bcus he's not a man) and he can't comprehend the supposed thrill of it.

Then he says this in pl to Gregory

💙: Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think they are?

i was going to say Marius but I figure that's too obvious since everyone at this point knows I don't like Marius 😭 so here's an even hotter take,,,,, Lestat ‼️

Only to a degree, I think Lestat is hot and deserves the hype, but i also think he's hot in a different way then a chunk of the fandom does. Based on his book description he's kind of wonky looking, mouth too big for his face, vaguely unnerving shallow pale skin, starved 1700s peasant build but also kind of buff in the unhealthy "i dont eat regularly but I'm strong enough to carry a wolf for miles on my back" sense, weirdly small fucking feet. He def has creepy ass florescent blue doll eyes too. my point is I think when drooling over Lestat the fandom tends to forget this wonkiness in favor of blonde bombshell, Sam Reid chizzled jawline and abs, or conventionally beautiful anime twink, when they should be appreciating lestat in all his weird as shit glory.

#Ask game #tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire armand #Prince Lestat #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac

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blenselche · 3 months

Text

wanted to sketch this scene from Oneirogenic Coalescence out

“Shoko?”

She stares back at him, only a few inches away and inspecting his face with narrowed eyes.

“I’m stuck being your guide again,” she surmises. “Subtractional. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She blows a sigh out, pushing a hand through her hair. “I should have stayed in the deadworlds.”

Finn snorts, elbowing her. “Well, for what it’s worth I’m glad you didn’t. Is it actually you this time, or- or is this just part of the hallucination?”

“I’ve been dragged out of your subconscious. I’m still with you, after all, as you’ve aged you’ve grown closer to me. You remember my life,” she turns, and they’re back at the gang’s open bathhouse, overgrowth creeping backwards. “Why is that?”

The Plant Teacher metamorphoses into a bath boy, poking at its hair rollers. “Your future is debating removing you from the cycle of reincarnation.”

Shoko looks over her shoulder, quirking a critical brow at him.

“I—“ his hands raise in defense of himself. “Maybe. It was just a stupid thought,” he muffles into his palm as he stares at their feet, uncomfortable and edgy. “Fern is immortal, he doesn’t have to die unless I do, and- and if I don’t die, then…”

“You’re afraid you won’t be able to find yourself in the next life,” she guesses, and he lifts a finger gun to the air without looking up. “You found the Princess, Finn, and we were barely friends. You found our closure, what makes you think you wouldn’t be able to find it again?”

“Maybe I’m tired of finding myself! Maybe- maybe I’m tired of going through painful junk and learning the same lessons just to find something good under it all,” his hands raise and slap back down to his sides as he walks in a circle on the concrete platform. “I’ve never been in love in any of my lives, and I finally have that. Why can’t I get off the ride if I have the chance? What if I want us to stay like we are?”

Shoko stops him, dragging him to sit on a cracked step as her life bustles around them in blurry, fluid dreamscapes. Finn watches with tired, drooping eyes as she releases the Ice King from a group of old witch women.

“That’s what life is, Finn. Sometimes we have our arm cut off by our father, sometimes we lose it trying to cling to him. It’s just how the cycle works. You can’t stop it.”

“I want to,” he murmurs, muscle of his jaw jumping. “I’ve finally got some stability.”

“Life is change,” the entity reminds him, lifting a slice of cucumber over its eye. “You cannot cross the stream without getting wet. You are not prone to give yourself to indolence, child, you are always moving, always changing. Do not falter to the soul erosion of a middling existence in vampirism, it is counterintuitive to your purpose.”

Finn groans, chest deflating. “I hate that determinism gunk. I’m not made for anything. I don’t believe in destiny.”

“No, I know you don’t. That does not stop it from being true.” It settles lower in the water, watching him. “You are a very purposeful being, Finn. You, a cosmic force trapped within a man cannot remove yourself from the cycle even if you wish it. You have yet to find your final method of being.”

“Not this comet crap again,” he whines, face tipping to the sky and eyes screwing up tight.

“Yes this comet crap again.” It snaps its fingers and they’re hung in the vast nothingness of space, Shoko scrambles to grab onto him, terrified.

“Finn!?” she screeches. “What’s it talking about?”

He curls an arm around her waist and hefts her higher. “We were put here to commit acts of ‘great good’,” Finn says, tense, “Davey stopped Orgalorg, you released Simon, I defeated the Lich, Penny blasts the cosmic elementals…” he pauses, brain skipping on the realization that he remembers her, “and some day we’ll ascend to the fourth dimension. I refused last time.” He nods with a rigid jerk to the comet, to Martin and the moth. “We’re… some godlike entity. But we forgot.” He swallows dry, throat constricting. “I don’t think about it. It makes me feel like- like my skin is on too tight.”

“You may reject predeterminism, but that does not stop it from affecting you,” the Teacher announces, loud enough to rattle his bones. “I can only help you if you’re open to it. Will you open yourself? Or will you pursue this dead ended, disillusioned passivity borne from the fear of your truth?”

He feels Shoko tremble in his arm, smells the sweet spices they used to use in her hair and sighs out a dejected “okay.” His feet hit the hardwood of the tree house’s kitchen, and he lets Shoko dismount his side, knees shaking and wobbly as she falls back into the dingy cushions of the wrap around sofa.

“That was terrifying,” she chokes with an airy laugh, forehead thunking to the table.

“… our bones are like, six feet away,” he thinks out loud and she shoots him a freaked out glance. “Sorry. Nerves.”

“Are you ready to face yourself, little hero?” It hangs from the ceiling, having taken on Marceline’s form.

A smarmy, weak grin stretches across his expression. “I already am, technically.”

“Don’t be tiresome, the other half of your soul gives me enough trouble.”

Finn snickers unevenly in the face of this unknowable tutelar, at the sensation of bantering with some infinite providence when he’s such a tiny animal.

He nods, and the strings of his being unravel as Shoko keeps hold on the red piece of yarn that connects them, steadying the knot at his center.

#keep yourself au #shoko #finn mertens

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fairycheol · 1 month

Text

STILL MONSTER ; PARK SUNGHOON

prologue: the story of us

masterlist next

pairing: vampire!sunghoon x ???fem!oc

content warning: angst, blood and gore, mentions of murder, death, guilt, slight religious themes

Sunghoon could feel his knees growing weaker by the second. He struggled to catch his breath and the rain that continued to pour from the skies seemed to weigh him down the longer he stood there. Were the angels up above weaping just as he was?

For a while it was nothing but silence flowing through his ears, the sound of multiple boots stepping onto muddy grass brought him to the realization that he was no longer alone. His 6 brothers now stood behind him, the leader of this group stuck his shaking hand out to him, letting his name fall from his lips in hopes of comforting Sunghoon.

His words land on deaf ears as Sunghoon drops to his hands on knees over the body of the girl he had grown to love, shielding her bruised and bloody form from the harsh temperatures of the rain.

The brothers can only watch as Sunghoon’s body shakes with a force strong enough to cause an earthquake, choked sobs leave his mouth in such an agonizing way, it makes you want to rip your heart out.

Just like they had done to her.

“H-how… how could someone be so cruel…” the brothers for a minute perk their heads up, assuming the broken boy was talking to them,

“My love, how could someone be so cruel, as to take you away from me and this life you never truly experienced.” Multiple heads fall back down in silence.

Sunghoon lifts a hand up to the face of his lover, brushing away loose strands of her hair to make it look as clean as it did the morning he first saw her.

He licks his thumb and makes an attempt at removing the blood from her purple lips and cold cheeks. With shaky hands he lifts her from the ground, placing her on his lap with her head being supported by his shoulder.

He presses his face against hers, feeling her cold skin sear into his warmth. He hums a tune as he rocks her back on forth in his arms. He adjusts the ripped shirt she wears and straightens out the bloody skirt that moved up her legs with every movement he made.

He fixes the ring that sits atop her finger and only then does he realize, she was dressed in the clothes he had bought for her.

Shee was on her way to see him, but never made it.

“Sunghoon-ah…” his head moves up to spot Jungwon, his younger friend and leader of the group, crouched in front of him with a look of sadness etched into his features,

“you need to let go.” Jungwon reaches out a hand to take the girl from him but Sunghoon retaliates. Aggressively grabbing his wrist and shoving it away from her.

Sunghoon shakes his head “i’m not letting go. never.”

“Sunghoon” this time a new voice chimes in. Jay.

“Sunghoon listen carefully,” there’s an eery silence that follows.

“they ripped her heart out, we have no way of saving her and you know it. we need to put her to rest.” Jays features display a look of desperation, he cant handle seeing his friend suffer.

At those words Sunghoon lets out an aggressive growl, pulling the girl closer to him. He couldn't even fathom the idea of saying goodbye forever. He refused.

"We know you don't want to say goodbye, but think about what she would want." this time its Heeseung, the oldest of the group, who speaks to him.

With a sickening realization Sunghoon knows that if she could talk in that very moment, she'd tell him to do the right thing and let her go. but he cant.

His moment of complete distraction gives enough time for Heeseung to take the girl into his own arms. he carefully lifts her into a bridal position and begins to walk towards a burial site they prepared.

The remaining members hoist Sunghoon up by the arms and assist him in walking, taking note of his blank expression.

The burial site is one that makes Sunghoon's knees buckle. a cherry blossom tree sits high and mighty atop of a hill Sunghoon knows all too well. His first everything happened in this very spot. The wind blows harshly against the tree, an old wooden swing that hangs from one of the heavier branches moves itself back and forth in silence.

As Heeseung begins to lower the girl into the hole they dug for her Sunghoon breaks free from the grasps of his friends and makes an attempt at taking her back into his arms.

"I’ll do it. I know I can do it, and I promise I won’t try and run away just please let me do this.” He’s aware Heeseung doesn’t trust him to go through with the burial but the desperation in his eyes is enough to make Heeseung feelbad, so he hands the girl back over to him.

With heavy footsteps Sunghoon approaches the grave. Kneeling down onto one knee, and then the next, he sets the girl down.

“This won’t be the end of us, you know that sweetheart?,”

“In every life I live I will always find you and in one of those lives we’ll get the happily ever after we deserve. I promise.”

With a heavy heart and tears running down his face Sunghoon kisses his girl one last time. The bittersweet moment ends when he’s pulled away from her. Her hands falling loosely out of his own.

And as he walks down the hill, away from where everything started. He never looks back.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen series #enhypen smau #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smau #sunghoon imagines

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gaysindistress · 10 months

Text

When Night Comes - Eighteen

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: cursing, major character death(s) again, Alix is in this one so that's a whole warning in itself, angst, like a lot, enough that I want to give Bucky a big hug now.

Word count: 2.9k

Seventeen | masterlist

a/n: AND WE'RE DONE! When Night Comes is finished! I'm so thankful for all of the love and support as usual! I don't have anything lined up next so if anyone has any requests, send them my way! xoxo to all of my lovelies!

tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @buckybarnessimpp @vonalyn @thebuckybarnesvault

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Fear strikes into Y/N’s heart when she sees the people standing in the doorway.

Peggy, Alix, Thor, and Loki file into the room one after another while Luca and Ana Cristina grab ahold of her arms. Their grip prevents her from getting out and running however the thought barely crosses her mind. Y/N knew that even if she did manage to get out of their grasp, any one of the four traitors before her would catch her. Running for her life naked through the house while dripping water would not make for a successful escape so she stays put. Her anger replaces her fear and the boiling water feels like it has replaced the blood in her body. Whatever hate she felt for Alix increases tenfold with the help of the generational rage that has been stored in her body. She doesn’t even notice that she’s being held down anymore because she’s too focused on Alix, the creator of her nightmares and reason for her life of running. Y/N hadn’t seen this demon of a woman in five years but nothing has changed. She is still tall and lean, her long braids piled on top of her head give her a towering appearance. Her face is still somber and rigid from the years of bad deeds she’s done. She’s duller than before, thanks to the stress of trying to find Y/N but her eyes are what catches Y/N off guard.

They’re gold.

A yellow gold unlike before.

The same yellow gold that a Lycan’s eyes become when they turn.

Against her dull and lifeless face, the contrast is horrifying and gives her an inhumane like mien. That alone is enough to make Y/N break eye contact but she refuses. Even the simple act of breaking eye contact will feel like an act of submission to Alix and that is something that Y/N can not give to her.

“There’s my baby girl,” Alix mocks her as she circles the tub like a predator stalking its prey.

“What are you doing here?” she asks Alix.

“Use your brain. What do YOU think I’m doing here?”

Y/N doesn’t answer right away.

“Cat got your tongue? I’ll just tell you,” Alix says as she keeps circling Y/N, “Your little witch friends agreed to help me kill Bucky in exchange for you.”

“What do you mean in exchange for me?”

“They get to keep you since apparently you’re some important doppelgänger. I quit listening after a while.” “I thought you wanted me for yourself.”

Alix shrugs, “I did but then I found you that caught feelings for that Strigoi bastard so now I could care less what happens to you.”

Y/N chooses not to answer and when Alix is behind her again, she turns her angry eyes to Peggy who is not shy in her joy. A smirk is painted across her face and it sends a dagger right into Y/N’s heart.

Y/N leans forward enough to make sure that Peggy knows that she is the object of her words and spits out, “How could you? After everything that Bucky has done for you, for Steve, for your son. How could you betray him like this?” Peggy’s smirk falters at the mention of her son, “That man has done nothing but cause my family pain. He’s made Steve his servant, murdered my best friend, and put my son in harm’s way too many times to count.”

“You are to blame for my murder.”

A gust of wind causes the candle’s flames to flicker and a pressure fills the room, making it feel tight and cramped.

“You were the one who was supposed to protect me and you didn’t,” Y/N says but there’s a hollow look in her eye, “You were supposed to go with me that day but you were too busy sleeping with Dorian Wright to come and that’s why I’m dead. If you had just left Steve like you told Dorian you would then I would still be alive.”

Ana Cristina and Luca glance at each other but neither make a move. The gust of wind had been anything but normal and the two witches fear for the outcome.

“They were after you that day, not me but you know that.”

Peggy’s eyes open wide in fear and she stumbles backward but Y/N doesn’t stop, “You used the fact that the Wright gang had tried to kill me in the past as an explanation for my death as a way to cover up your affair. You used the curse that my husband sold his soul for to cover up your affair and now you’re trying to fix your mistake via the worst plan I have ever seen. How exactly does siding with the great granddaughter of your paramour and my murderer achieve what you want?.”

Peggy goes to defend herself but Y/N will not have it and interrupts her, “How does this plan make any sense, Margaret? It most certainly won’t free you from your guilt nor will it end well for you. If it’s freedom that you’re after, THIS will end with you running for the rest of your miserable life and facing that eternity completely alone. Steve will not forgive you, your son will not remember you, Bucky will not rest until you have paid for your betrayal, and I will let you forget what you did.”

Y/N slumps forward, breathing raggedly like she had run for miles and silent tears stream down Peggy’s face. Alix, Thor, and Loki to each other for answers but none can produce one.

“What the fuck was that?” Alix demands Ana Cristina and Luca.

The two bring Y/N to rest against the back of the tub and exchange silent words through glances. Ana Cristina provides an answer, “It appears that Celeste used Y/N as a mouthpiece.”

“Ghosts can do that?”

“Celeste is not a ghost, she is a spirit and yes when a witch with enough power dies, they can sometimes use that power to communicate with the living or,” she looks to Peggy, “to those who are neither living nor dead.”

“Is she going to do it again?”

Ana Cristina dips her head to look at Y/N’s face, “no. Y/N is not strong enough for that. Celeste won’t risk killing her doppelgänger and angering her coven even more to get revenge on Peggy.”

“Can we hurry along with the spell? I don’t want to give her a chance to try,” Peggy mumbles as she wipes away at the tears and straightens her back.

Ana Cristina and Luca nod before gesturing to the other two men to come forward. Thor and Loki take their place next to the tub but Y/N grips onto the cook’s arm.

“Please don’t do this. Please…” Y/N begs her, “Please, don’t let them hurt me.”

Ana Cristina puts her hand on top of Y/N’s, “It won’t kill you, I promise.”

With that she tears Y/N’s hand away and allows Loki to take her place. All trust that Y/N had placed in her or Luca shatters and spills out of her eyes as tears race down her face. She begins to sob and thrash against the men’s grip, pleading with them to let her go and to not hurt her. Ana Cristina tells Alix to join her at the table and starts to go over her portion of the spell.

Peggy stays pressed against the wall, still reeling over what Celestse had said to her. Any and all emotions are racing through her as she tries to process it all but one thought sticks out; if Celeste could use Y/N to say all of that, what else could she do?

The answer of what else can Celeste do comes in the form of a vision to Bucky. On their way back from dropping Natasha and Wyatt off in town, Bucky lets out a howl of agony and Steve slams on the breaks of the car.

“What was that for?” he asks as he starts to drive again, “Are you okay?”

Bucky takes deep breaths to manage the head splitting pain, “There’s something wrong.”

“I gathered that.”

“No there’s something wrong with Y/N. I think….I think Alix is at the estate.”

Just as Steve goes to speak, he sees Yelena usher a wounded Juliette into her car.

“You’re right. Something is very wrong.”

Bucky nods as he grimaces and looks up to see the same thing. Steve is already calling Yelena and has confirmation of the worst.

“Yelena said that Alix is at the estate but Y/N is safe because Ana Cristina and Luca are there,” he tells Bucky.

“That means absolutely nothing to me because we’re not there. What I want to know is why the fuck Yelena knows that.”

“She said it was a long story but that we need to get back as soon as we can.”

“Bull fucking shit it’s a long story,” Bucky sneers and rips Steve’s phone from his hands, redialing Yelena’s number, “What the fuck is going on and why do you have Juliette with you?”

“Let go of me,” Y/N howls at Loki and Thor as she uses any strength she has left to rip herself away from them, “Let fucking go of me!” “Take her out and sit her in front of me,” Ana Cristina tells the two men who do as she says.

The entire time they are lifting her, Y/N is kicking and fighting them until she manages to kick Thor in the chest. Having the wind knocked out of him, he drops her and Loki does the same in efforts to check on his brother. She makes a run for it and makes it to the stairs but Alix is quicker and looms above her, blocking any chance to get past her.

“Silly girl,” she mocks her once again as she grips her tight enough by the arm to leave bruises. Y/N tries her hand at fighting again and when Alix turns to chide her, she spits in her face. Alix freezes and slowly takes a deep breath. The hand leaves her arm and threads into her hair as Alix yanks her down the hall by it.

“I forgot how fucking stupid you are when you’re mad,” she mumbles as she drags Y/N back to the group.

“Be a good girl for once and stop fighting,” she snaps before throwing Y/N to the ground at Ana Cristina’s feet. Thor and Loki stare at her in disgust while Peggy refuses to acknowledge her. Luca doesn’t meet her stare and keeps his head bowed as Ana Cristina bends down to Y/N’s level.

In her hand she has a bowl with a red paste in it and she dips her fingers in it to draw on Y/N’s skin. She’s singing under her breath as she starts the process of tying their lives to each other but doesn’t speak to the doppelgänger otherwise, treating her as though she is just the doppelgänger and not someone who’s come to care for.

“Please,” Y/N whispers to her as she shivers and tries to hide herself from everyone around her, “Please don’t do this.”

Ana Cristina makes eye contact for a moment but breaks it and continues to sing while adorning her with paste markings. Luca hands her various other things needed for the spell; herbs, jewelry, and other pastes. They are finally complete in their decorating when a metal headdress that is dripping with chains, jewels, and coins is placed on Y/N’s head. Her naked body is covered in runes similar to those that Bucky wears and she smells of the earth thanks to the burned bundles of herbs.

Luca helps her to her feet albeit both reluctantly and he squeezes her hands. She glares at him and pulls her hands away, hoping that the cold shoulder will hurt him as his betrayal has hurt her. Ana Cristina steps in front of her, takes Y/N’s hand, and begins to sing even louder with Luca joining in. A similar gust of wind to before causes the candle flames to flicker and the brothers join in on the singing. The candles got completely out and Y/N let out a loud gasp.

The candles burst back to life and the runes on her body are glowing a bright red as another voice uses her body to sing along. Alix shifts uncomfortably next to Peggy as the voice grows louder and louder until it stops.

The witches collapse onto the ground, leaving Y/N to stand on her own as the glowing runes start to dim. She opens her eyes which are a flaming red and fixes them on the two women before her. The voice from before speaks to them.

“Alix Wright,” it says as Y/N walks towards them, stepping over the bodies around, “Your family is disappointed in you. All that you have done in the Wright name has been for your own gain. You have forsaken your sacred oath to serve and protect Lycan. You’ve chosen a human over your siblings and now those who you brought with you are dead. Their blood is on your hands, how do you plead?”

Alix looks wildly between Peggy and Y/N, fear fresh in her yellow eyes.

“You’ve sanctioned the murder of your siblings and now you must be held accountable, how do you plead?” the voice asks again.

“How am I supposed to have been killed?” Alix asks, anger replacing her fear as she tries to square up to her.

Y/N rolls her flaming eyes and utters Alix’s death sentence, “You are guilty. Lumină pe foc.”

Fire spills from Y/N’s body and races across the ground towards Alix, licking up and consuming her whole. Peggys lets out a scream and jumps away from a burning Alix. She tries to run towards the stairs but Bucky, Steve, Yelena, and Juliette block her way. Bucky grabs her by the throat and throws her against the wall next to them.

“What the fuck did you do?” he growls at her as the others flock to those who are still laying on the floor.

“She attempted to usurp your position and cover up her betrayal by taking the side of your enemy,” Y/N answers for her.

Bucky turns to look at her and meets her stare with shock. He recognizes the voice of Celeste but the woman standing there does not look like her nor Y/N. Covered in ritualistic runes and jewelry, she reminds him more of the witches that his father warned him of and the waves of childhood fright he instilled into him come crashing back.

“She is guilty of treachery, murder, and infidelity. How do you plead, Margaret Carter Rogers?”

With Ana Cristina in his arms, Steve yells, “Not guilty! She’s not guilty.”

Peggy takes her chance and breaks Bucky’s arm before sprinting to her husband’s side. Bucky lets out a howl of rage and pain as he resets his arm.

Steve looks to his wife and pleads with her to say she’s not guilty but she just offers him a sad look and kisses his forehead.

“I plead guilty.”

Y/N smiles, “So be it. Binecuvântează-ți trupul, Strogori.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Y/N goes rigid and collapses on the ground while Peggy begins to choke. Bucky rushes to Y/N, cradling her burning up body in his arms and whispering words of reassurance to her. Steve, on the other hand, goes to do the same to his wife but hisses in pain when he touches her. Peggy wails and sobs in pain as her skin begins to sizzle and crosses appear in the places where her skin is unmarred. He looks to Y/N in horror and back to his wife.

“What did she do? Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!” he shouts and his despair awakes Ana Cristina.

She groans and shifts in Steve’s lap which draws his attention back to her. He begs her to help Peggy but she explains that she can’t. There is no way to stop the blessing process once it’s started. His horror grows even more as Peggy’s cries grow quiet until there is nothing.

Thor and Loki slowly sit up as Ana Cristina drags Luca closer to her. Bucky is holding Y/N against himself while Yelena and Juliette stay huddled by the doorway. Peggy’s and Alix’s bodies lay motionless as Steve stares distantly at them.

All is still and peaceful in the room. The only sounds that can be heard are the shallow breaths of those awaking and Bucky’s whispers.

“I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you and I always will. Te iubesc, T/N. Te-am iubit mereu și o voi face mereu. Mereu și întotdeauna.”

Mereu și întotdeauna.

Always and forever.

Always and forever means endless nights and long days for people like Y/N and Bucky. It’s a promise of love everywhere and in everything. As her breathing remains shallow and his whispers become a song, their new love does not fade but grows for it’s the only thing it can do. It’s fitting isn’t it?

His lost love coming back to him years later only for her to then suffer at his hands the same way she had before. The cycle will continue.

Always and forever

as it means in

this life

the next.

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