#the quill is named phillip and he is lovely

[writtenbyevie]

YOU guys may not think I’m funny but the magical floating quill I use to pen all my posts thinks I’m hilarious

[tending-the-hearth]

so for those of you who may not be aware (which is def most of you) i made a 2012 TMNT oc FOREVER AGO who is my love and one of my favorite ocs that i've ever created. isabelle is so very very important to me, and the story i wrote for her and raph got me through a REALLY difficult time in my life.

a few little easter eggs abt their relationship/characters that are in the moodboard:

isabelle's last name is gold, hence the little bits of gold in the moodboard!

she's a huge reader (bc of course 2014 me needed an oc who was just like me)

the quote in the middle, if you haven't guessed already, is from "the hunger games", which is isabelle's favorite book, and she and raph go see the movie for their first date!! (mockingjay part 1 came out in 2014, which was when i first wrote the story, so it fit so perfectly)

and to go along with this moodboard, as i do with all my other character moodboards, i had to make a playlist for them!!

muscles + nerd playlist

💚 guy.exe: superfruit 💚 u - english version: millennium parade, belle 💚 falling for ya: grace phipps 💚 paper rings: taylor swift 💚 line without a hook: ricky montgomery 💚 somebody to love: queen 💚 butterfly effect - demo: sophie holohan 💚 perfect harmony: madison reyes, charlie gillespie 💚 true to your heart: 98°, stevie wonder 💚 everyday: zac efron, vanessa hudgens 💚 green green dress: andrew gargield, alexandra shipp 💚 love grows (where my rosemary goes): edison lighthouse 💚 to you, from me: naethan apollo 💚 head over heels: tears for fears 💚 i was made for lovin' you: kiss 💚 friends don't: maddie & tae 💚 kaleidoscope: a great big world 💚 gone, gone, gone: phillip phillips 💚 kiss her you fool: kids that fly 💚 when he sees me: kimiko glenn

@queen-with-the-quill

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

Unsinkable love

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/47YR0xX

by Atlandis

And then the lights turned off, only to reappear a couple of seconds later. Strange noises came from inside the ship. Noises of steel folding and glass breaking. Noises that sent a shiver down Bucky’s back. It was like the ship itself was suffering with them. Like Titanic was screaming, just like its passengers.

“Bucky!”

He jumped as he heard his name. He looked up and was met with Steve’s blue eyes. Those beautiful, perfect eyes he never managed to forget ever since the first time he saw them. “Stay with me, okay?” Steve told him kindly, almost in a whisper “I need you to focus. I need you to stay with me”

Bucky nodded and for a moment his numbness vanished and everything was clear. “I am. I’m with you till the end of the line”. And he knew he always will be, no matter what was going to happen.

Words: 208, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Titanic (1997)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel), Abraham Erskine, Howard Stark, Phil Coulson, Alexander Pierce, Thaddeus Ross, Nick Fury, Chester Phillips, Peter Parker, Peter Quill, Shuri (Marvel), Clint Barton, Stephen Strange, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Aldrich Killian, Scott Lang, Other Marvel Characters

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: RMS Titanic, Titanic AU, Original Fiction, Bucky and T'Challa are best friends, steve and sam are best friends, Bucky is rich, Steve is not, Historical References, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Falling In Love, Romance, Coming Out, Loss of Virginity, Steve knows he is gay, Bucky doesn't, Self-Acceptance, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Period Typical Attitudes, abusive Step parent, Bucky is kind of arrogant, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Change of attitude, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Eventual Smut, Tragedy, Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/47YR0xX

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics:

1 & 2. Modern AI images which need a little more time rendering the Hoary Olde Scribbler.

3. The real Ani-maniac? I mean he's wielding the dark magic of the Mad Arab's dreaded Necronomicon!!

4 & 5. Covers to 2 collections of Love- craft's best stories & early short tales.

1914: Output.

Intro: "Ad Criticos" is a collection, taken from HPL's letters, of 4 satirical poems.

These had been sent to the Argosy magazine during the 'Jackson War', which started in 1913.

It's mostly good natured ribbing but, with Howard, you get a lot of history & name dropping!

Work: Right after mentioning Jackson, Lovecraft focuses on the "Ingenious Russell, I forgive (your) slur, since... such clever lines... occur with true Pierian¹ heat inflamed."

John Russell will be mentioned more than anybody else - always showing HPL's high opinion of this 'enemy' writer.

Now, Howard defends his use of old English words.

"My store of knowledge (I) might parade (yet) my words are not beyond reach."

Then, we dive into English history.

"In Charles the 2nd's² vulgar age, the gross Wycherley³ & Dryden⁴ soiled the stage."

Most of the 2nd 'Book' touches upon a lot of Greek mythology.

But, by its end, Lovecraft's favorite southern Civil War soldier⁵ is turned into a deathless martyr - or some- thing like that.

"Louder bawl the... Boeotian⁶ band, Acid quills, fresh... from Cupid's⁷ wing, At me the Myrmidons⁸ of Venus⁹ sling... Amazons¹⁰ in... fury charge!

Book 3 starts with 1 mythological mention, before dropping some poetic names!!

"Beat their wings in Heliconian¹¹ song."

Quickly followed by "Russell, like Butler¹²... schools the times." And, "Points with logic's art, At... Avon's Bard¹³."

HPL then mentions himself, twice - in roundabout ways.

"Were I the Hudibras¹⁴ of our age."

And, "(Oh!) Heavenly Muse¹⁵, your latest pupil see(s), Verse modeled after Pope's¹⁶ (& mine)!!"

This section ends with "Sense, like Browning's¹⁷... a bit obscure. Detested Lovecraft... fierce."

Book 4 starts with poetic nitpicking.

"In true trochaic¹⁸ rage the bard begins, When - Lo! - An odd iambus¹⁹ intervenes."

It all ends with the person who has a decision to make.

"(And) soon a dactyl²⁰ swells the shapeless swarm²¹... When scribes... contend, The Editor alone the fray can end."

Best John Russell mention, "Well turned lines, with... venom writ, counts my failings to display his wit."

Best Howard mention, "The crusty bachelor will rant no more..."

Criticism: Phillip Ellis stated, "(This) is (HPL's) 1st genuine example of his (poetic) ability... (Very few) of his earlier (attempts) have (much) merit."

"Ad Criticos" is of reasonable length... to more fully develop the satire in the (work's) subject... The 4 pieces... combine to create a (poem) that lessens the impact of "On Whitman" & "Providence in 2000 AD."

Sadly, "Ad Criticos" has received little other critical attention - mostly from S.T. Joshi.

Notes:

1. Pierian means of or pertaining to the Muses, Goddesses of Divine Inspiration.

The word comes from the Mt. Pierus area, in Macedonia - homeland of Alexander the Great!

The Muses were worshipped there, because of a spring that granted drinkers literary & artistic skills!

2. This "Merry Monarch" was King of Great Britain & Ireland. His political savvy guided his nation thru religious unrest, the Black Death & more.

His soldiers took New Amsterdam from the Dutch & called it NYC.

But, the Great Plague hit England, killing over 60,000 people.

It was Charles that granted Carolina & R.I. their colonial charters.

3. William Wycherley was a poet & playwright known for his comedies "Country Wife" & "Plain Dealer" which are full of wit, humor & good spirits.

"Wife" reflected aristocratic & anti- Puritan sentiments. It's also full of explicit sexual jokes!

"Dealer" was actually condemned for its obscenities!! But, poets John Dry- den & John Dennis praised it highly."

Wycherley had no title or wealth yet, he ended up sharing King Charles 2's mistresses!!

4. John Dryden was an English poet, literary critic, translator & playwright.

He was England's 1st Poet Laureate & dominated satiric literature during the late 1600s.

5. This was "Stonewall" Jackson, who - in HPL's estimation - "died a hero²³ in (a) glorious cause²⁴."

A man who's "lost, but (is of a) death- less fame. (Such) that lesser men should (not) bear his name!"

6. Of or about the Greek region of Boeotia, whose capital was Thebes - now Thiva.

Thebes was politically strong but, had few good harbors. Still, they're 1 of the oldest inhabited cities on Earth!

The Athenians called these folk "dull & stupid!" Yet, these major rivals ended teamed up against the invading Phillip the 2nd.

In the end, the father of Alexander the Great beat both nations. And, Phillip's son would later destroy Thebes...

7. Cupid was the Roman God of sexual love, affection & erotic desire. This cherubic boy was son of Mercury, messenger God & Venus, Goddess of love.

Anyone (even other Gods) who was shot by 1 of his arrows, would be filled with uncontrollable desire!!

8. Now, any "follower of a powerful person." Especially, an unscrupulous & unquestioning lackey.

They were descendants of Zeus, King of the Greek Gods & Eurymedusa, a seduced by Zeus - in the 'disguise' of an ant!!

They lived in Thessaly, Greece & their leader was Achilles, the great warrior of the Trojan War!

9. Venus, Roman Goddess of love. Also, the bringer of prosperity & good fortune.

She's an ancestor of the Romans, thru Aeneas, her Trojan son by Anchises.

Weird Shit: Venus was born of 'sea foam!' A 'substance' that originated from when Cronus castrated Uranus & threw his dad's penis into the sea!!

10. Amazons were a nation of fierce warrior women that supposedly lived Northeast of Greece, in the Black Sea area.

They were daughters of Ares, the Greek God of War & Harmonia, a demigoddess.

These ladies thought that marriage was a slave sentence! Yet, they mated once a year with the neighboring Gargareans.

Weird Bit: Then, their worst fear came true! The Amazons & Scythians inter- married, founding the Sauromations!!

11. Heliconian means of or pertaining to Mt. Helicon, Greece - which was home to Apollo & the Muses.

12. Samuel Butler was an English poet, critic & satirist who wrote the utopian novel of "Erewhon", "The Way of All Flesh" & "Hudibras", a long satirical poem.

"Hudibras's" story reminds readers of Edmund Spencer's "Faerie Queen" & is thought to be a deliberate imitation!

13. Avon's Bard - Come on folks, who can forget William Shakespeare's nick- name?!! Stratford-on-Aven was this poet/playwright's birthplace!

But, there's a "Bard of Avon" children's book for ages 7+. It contains words that Shakespeare made up!

Like: leap frog, tongue tied & laughing stock, etc...

In the U.K., Shakespeare is better known as "the Swan of Avon."

14. Hudibras is a 'vigorous' satiric poem, written in a mock heroic style.

Its simple plot has the knight named Hudibras being regularly defeated - by women.

So, he comes to the conclusion that women are superior to men...

This 'unique' name is taken straight out of Spencer's "Faerie Queen" - where it's spelled Huddibras.

15. A Muse is one out of nine Greek Goddesses of expressive inspiration.

They were daughters of Mnemosyne, Goddess of Memory & Zeus, King of mack daddies!!

16. Alexander Pope was an English poet, satirist, translator & essayist.

Known for "Rape of the Lock", "The Dunciad" & "Essay on Criticism."

Supported himself with subscription fees for his translations of Homer's works.

17. Robert Browning was an English poet & playwright of the Victorian Era.

He created the Pied Piper but, is best known for his dramatic monologues & psychological 'portraits.'

Browning's best work is the 12-book series "The Ring & the Book", the story of a Roman murder trial.

This writer believed that all women should fight for their freedoms - even if they should die for them...

18. Ad Criticos is Latin for "To the Critics." In Spanish, they have the related meanings of "Abusers" or "Scoffers."

Heh.

19. Trochaic, in poetry, is a "falling" rhythm made up of 1 stressed syllable, followed by 1 unstressed sound that's cascading down.

20. Iambus, in poesy, is 1 weak sound followed by 1 strong syllable that's rising up in timbre.

21. Dactyl, in poetry, is 1 strong sound followed by 2 unstressed syllables.

The name is from the Greek Dactyloi, a male race (unholy Amazons?) that's associated with the Great Mother Earth.

22. This "shapeless swarm" wouldn't happen to be shoggoths - would they?!!

Probably not.

But, I find it interesting that these words will soon bear a newer, more Lovecraftian meaning...

23. I don't think so, dude.

"Stonewall" was shot by his own troops!!

He had his left arm amputated & it was buried separately from the rest of his body!

Then, eight days later, "Stonewall" died of a combination of three things: shock, a chest injury & pneumonia.

His last words were "Let's cross the river & rest under the trees..."

"Stonewall's" deathbed was a farm office some 30 miles from his own battlefield troops.

I'd hardly call that heroic...

24. To keep people in slavery is never any sort of 'glorious' cause. Otherwise, the whites wouldn't mind being slaves themselves...

And, the hogwash about "state's rights" is a later excuse.

Southerners knew they'd not make as much money without their unpayed workers...

As is usual, greed runs the world.

[juletheghoul]

Domum

This is completely self indulgent - originally I wanted to write something creepy and dark, but I ended up going in a different direction. This is a period piece - no actual year mentioned but I imagine it happening in medieval times? There's no mention of a specific place. My interpretation of Max isn't true to the movie. I also keep writing pieces and leaving them open ended - if there's enough interest then I'll revisit, or if I can think up more adventures for these two.

I am always open to discuss anything I write - don't be shy!

Max Phillips x F!Reader

Pairing: Max x F!Reader

Word Count: 12K (I make no apologies)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** Max is a vampire so there will be a lot of blood talk, some of it sexual in nature, implied violence (nothing super graphic) Reader is a witch - the witchy stuff I researched and combined it in a way I thought would work given the time- please don't try any of it, fluff, language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), slight dirty talk, Oral-female receiving, (Again, blood play but it should come as no surprise)

Masterlist Part 2

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

You were at the door before the knock came, scaring the woman standing there half to death.

You wanted to laugh in her face but you kept your face neutral.

You recognize her of course - the nerve of her to come to your dwelling at this hour. You could see her sneering face, ugly and red with rage a few days past. Screaming the familiar taunt of ‘witch’ at you as you tried to gather some much needed supplies from the market. You almost wanted to slam the door in her face. Chant some nonsense words and watch her run away screaming.

“I believe you have the wrong dwelling.” Your tone was acid.

“Greetings, no- I don’t, I humbly beg you for your help.” She had the decency to look ashamed at least.

“And what help could you possibly need from a witch.” You spat the word at her, making her recoil slightly. You were enjoying this if you were honest.

“William - I suspect he loves another, I need him to love only me.” You could smell the desperation on her and it was difficult to keep the sneer off your face. The hypocrisy towards you from the people who lived in and around you was astounding at times.

“Why would I be able to help you with that? Moreover, if I could - why should I?” you crossed your arms at the threshold of your home.

She wrung her hands, her eyes darting around behind you. You could see her take in the big pot on your fireplace bubbling away, the herbs and flowers drying in the rafters. Your cat lounging on your bed.

“I’ve heard- I mean to say, there has been talk - that you can, assist… Please - I can pay.” she held out a fist full of coins desperately. You sighed heavily as you stepped aside so she could enter.

“There is a fine line between love and obsession. If you play with this it could end badly. I am warning you now - do you want to proceed?” You cleared the table and grabbed an apple along with a needle from your sewing kit, a fresh sheet of paper and a quill with ink.

You waited- needing her answer before you continued.

She nodded enthusiastically- “Yes, I understand. I want him to love me intensely.” She was breathless.

You sat in front of her and handed her the apple and the needle.

“Take this, write your name on the apple, very very faintly, so as to barely show. Make sure William eats this apple. The whole thing. Be sure to carry the seeds with you along with this.” You wrote out some symbols on a piece of paper and folded them up- handing them to her.

“At the next full moon - plant these seeds in your garden along with the note.” you handed it to her.

“If you fail to complete any of the steps I’ve laid out for you, his love will turn to scorn. It will wither and die and you will be invisible to him.” you warned her as clearly and seriously as you could. You had her complete attention.

“Yes - I understand.” She grabbed at the supplies greedily.

An icy finger ghosted along your neck and you shivered violently. Your cat raised his hackles - something was coming.

“Take this all and do exactly as I said. I would thank you to remember this the next time you see me in the village. Now go - go and do not stop until you reach your home.” You gave her a hard stare as you hurried her out of the cottage.

Your cat stalked over to where you were standing at the door - meowing at your feet. You picked him up as you kept your eyes on the trees surrounding your cottage. Something was coming and whatever it was, it would be here soon.

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

I really put my foot in it this time he thought to himself as he hastily made his way out of the sprawling estate.

He could never leave well enough alone. He had to be better at this or he’d be running forever.

What were you thinking?

Seemed like he was always asking himself the same question. He needed to lay low and find a small place where people didn’t notice him. They never did, until he started gorging himself.

You have to work on that.

This time would be different. Only feed on people no one will miss, not the richest man in town's wife. That was an error in judgement, he could admit that.

Okay Max, fresh start - you can do this.

He had been travelling for days and the animals he’d been feeding off were absolutely not cutting it. He needed somebody soon.

The scent hit him like a cannonball.

Something on the breeze, the smell of fresh rain. Of sunshine and fields of wildflowers. The smell of a lover, sex and passion.

Something sinfully delicious. Irresistible.

Not for the first time - Max followed his nose.

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

“Stop that Ambrose, I need these herbs to grow and I'll thank you to keep your paws to yourself.” you chastised the cat who - once again - was digging at your chamomile.

He meowed pitifully as you moved him out of the little patch of dirt, doing your best to put everything back in place.

You took off your shawl, the sun warming you enough to work on your garden in the simple shift you wore. You could feel eyes on you, just outside your field of vision. Something moving silently through the trees. Ambrose could feel it too- he kept snapping his gaze to different areas around the cottage.

You ignored it. After all you were used to people staring at you, nothing new there.

You continued toiling in your garden, knowing that whatever it was watching you, it would not approach.

Yet.

——————————

Turn on the charm.

He approached the inn with a friendly smile, he spoke softly as he paid for the room for a week until he could get himself a little place. Eventually he would be able to compel someone to give up their home and move away.

Enough time for that later. For now he had to figure out who the hell the woman in the cottage was.

He walked through the market, listening to the conversations of the people around him. He kept mostly in the shadows, hiding himself from everyone. He could disappear into a crowd easily, fade into the background. It was one of his more useful gifts.

He saw you then, walking through town with your basket. Head held high; imperious.

He heard the way the villagers spoke about you, some comments made loud enough for you to hear. Your name was whispered like a curse, you held your head up high. It all rolled off of you like water off a duck's back.

He saw you snap your head over to him and moved further back into the shadows.

Did she see me?

“She surely worships the devil, her and her familiar!” The look on the woman’s face was pure arrogance, there was venom in the words she spoke to her partner. He was looking at you too, his look held something else. It wasn’t friendly.

You would definitely not be missed.

———————————————-

You heard the comments as you walked through town, nothing new.

Some faces were friendlier than others - the woman who had come to you just two days ago asking for a love spell smiled shyly. Secretly of course. William - you guessed - following her around like a puppy. You could live with that. Secret smiles are much better than open disdain.

You only needed a few things. Some new thread, a bit of fabric - some dry goods. Once you had everything you needed you made your way out of the village.

You could feel the presence at the edge of your vision, never getting close enough to make himself known. Probably thought he was exceedingly clever. That made you want to laugh, you could hear him coming a mile away the way he was thundering through the trees. Pathetic.

You finally reached your cottage, Ambrose was lounging underneath your rose bush. He perked up once you came into view. He was staring just behind you, following movements that you couldn’t see, but you could definitely feel. You continued to ignore it.

——————————-

Does she know I’m here? The cat definitely does.

He watched you from the foliage just outside your cottage and relished the smell of your blood. It was absolutely intoxicating. He would have to play this right.

Don’t repeat the same mistake Max, this is rare, you mustn’t waste it.

If he killed you now he would have at least a few weeks before anyone would notice but something holds him back. Killing you would be like drinking a glass of fine wine and then smashing the bottle. A waste.

Maybe you really were a witch, he’d heard of witches way back when, in the village he grew up in but he never found any. Never really looked after he turned. Usually it turned out to be a strong willed woman being named a witch by the people around her.

It was no use, he had to speak to you.

————————————-

“Are you quite done skulking in the shadows? Who are you?” You didn’t need to look up to know he was there. It was about time.

“I wasn’t-“ you cut him off.

“Yes you were, speak plainly. What would you have of me?” You brushed the dirt off your hands and wiped them on the apron you wore. It was hot as sin and you really didn’t want to be outside anymore.

“The villagers in town think you’re a witch, you know that don’t you?” He narrowed his eyes, you thought he might be curious.

“The villagers will believe anything.” You gathered up the herbs you’d cut and tied into bundles, placing everything into your basket.

“So you’re not a witch then?” He had a frown on his face, he was trying to figure you out.

“I am actually.” You made your way towards the front door, Ambrose followed behind you, the heat was affecting him too. You turned back, expecting this man to follow you.

“Why don’t you come in, we have a few things to talk about.” You opened your door wider, inviting him in.

His smile was something to behold. On the surface it was pleasant, charming - blinding. His teeth were too perfect, too white. There was a twinkle of violence in his eyes, a red tinge that you could almost recognize. He seemed shiny and new, like a blade glinting in the dark.

He approached you with clear excitement and you made space for him.

You could see the look of confusion on his face as he reached the threshold of your modest cottage. He could not enter, you had invited him in but he seemed to be stuck in place, a fly who landed in honey.

“I knew it.” You couldn’t stop the sly smile that spread across your face.

“What is this?” He was at a loss.

“My home is protected, against your kind.” You were giving him an appraising look. You had never encountered one before, barely believed they existed but your mother insisted. She had been the one to teach you how to protect your home. To lay salt and silver within the wood of the doorway and to bless it with holy water. You didn’t even know if it would work, until now that is.

He was speechless, looking at your cottage with curiosity and awe, you could see that this had never happened to him before.

“Some of the legends are true then, you cannot cross into my home, and you had to be invited in. Obviously the sunlight being deadly was a lie. Which others apply to you? Speak truthfully.” He was frowning at you. You stood just inside the doorway but It seemed he could not reach you.

“Sunlight is… uncomfortable. Not deadly. This is not my regular time. Garlic is harmless. Religious artifacts, crucifixes, holy water- that’s true. Stake through the heart or fire would kill anyone, me included. I do not know of any others.” He paced side to side, he had the look of an animal trapped in a cage. He looked hungry.

The holy water was what had done it. That is good to know.

“When did you last feed?” He stopped dead in his tracks at your question, you saw his fangs elongate. So that was true as well.

“It’s been too long…” he was smelling you, you could see it in his face.

“If you drank my blood, would I turn? Or must there be an exchange?” You wanted him clear headed. You saw the flash of excitement at your words.

“There must be an exchange. We would have to feed off each other in order for you to change. Do you have anyone in mind?” He raised an eyebrow, skeptical at your insinuation.

“I believe we have more to discuss, can you behave if I let you bite me?” You could see the frisón of pleasure flash across his face. Regardless of what he said, you guessed he’d probably get carried away.

“I will definitely try my hardest.” His smile was genuine but it had the edge of violence to it.

“Very well. We will do it out here. I am warning you-If you get carried away I will pour holy water on you.” You reached for one of the jars that lined your cupboard. He held his hands up in surrender.

He followed you into the shadow under the big willow tree at the edge of your garden.

“Here, take my wrist and drink. I’m warning you once more, if I think for a single second you’re going to take liberties with my generosity I will throw this water into your eyes.” You had the jar open as you brought your wrist to his mouth.

——————————-

Okay Max, control yourself.

He took your wrist as delicately as he could, he didn’t want to scare you away. He could smell the blood pumping under your skin and it was making him dizzy.

Keep your eyes on her, you cannot let this get away from you.

“Will it hurt?” You ask with genuine curiosity, it’s not out of fear.

“It depends, if I were to catch you unawares and tear into your neck it would hurt a great deal I would imagine. Struggling, fear - these things make the bite worse. If you give in to me willingly- well…” he was trying to say it, without actually saying it. He could see the realization hit you.

“It can be pleasurable.” You weren’t asking.

“Yes.” He didn’t need to elaborate. He saw you hesitate momentarily.

“I don’t know your name.” The prospect of his name in your mouth excited him far more than he would have cared to admit.

“Max.”

——————————————

You gave him your wrist and braced yourself. You knew he could feel the way your pulse was racing but that was to be expected.

He took your wrist and brought it close to his mouth- you watched the way he looked at your skin; almost reverently. His canines had elongated and were ghosting over your pulse point. You braced yourself for the pain, expecting it to hurt no matter what he said.

It was bliss.

The painful edge was there but it was nothing compared to the euphoria you felt. It was curious- your scientific mind immediately racing to understand. There might be something in it, something that lessened the pain somehow. You gasped when he sucked - the feeling going straight to your nipples and your sex. It was hard not to pull yourself onto his lap as he fed.

You clutched the holy water.

After a handful of darkly pleasurable pulls he reluctantly lets go, giving your wound a last lick. You saw the cuts beginning to close up. His lick must have healing properties. That was very useful to know.

He looked replete. His deathly pallor was now shining healthy looking skin. His eyes a warmer brown compared to the inky pools of darkness they were previously. He had an allure before, but it wasn’t an attraction. It was a morbid curiosity.

Now he was handsome, with those eyes, the full lower lip, the thick brown hair. Even the endearing curve in his nose. He was lovely.

You watched your skin grow back and it was like nothing had happened. All you had to prove it was real was the aching emptiness between your thighs. You cleared your throat.

“Are you feeling better?” You kept the mask of neutrality on.

His face was tilted up towards the heavens and he had a dreamy, satisfied look. He was savouring you.

“I cannot possibly even begin to explain how I feel, it’s almost like rebirth however even that doesn’t quite convey it.” The enjoyment on his face, his eyes closed, lips parted- his neck exposed. It all made you painfully aware of your arousal. You hadn’t given much thought to your solitude until now.

His bite held an intimacy that was unparalleled, so much better than the awkward trysts you’d had previously. Your mind kept imagining him inside you, in more ways than one. His bite in different places, your thigh, your breast.

He looked at you then, almost as if sensing your thoughts and his knowing smile made you feel caught.

“It will subside. It is an after effect of the bite, but if you wanted to try, I would not be opposed.” He raised an eyebrow and you smacked his chest. He laughed and raised his hands in surrender.

“Now that you have your head clear and the bloodlust has subsided we can speak freely. Why are you here?” You angled your body to him and he turned to face you.

“The angry mob chased me out of the last place I was in. I - took liberties…” you rolled your eyes.

“You gorged yourself.”

“I gorged myself, yes.” He nodded somberly.

“Well you cannot do that here. You must either leave, or learn to feed off animals. The villagers here will find a way to blame your...discrepancies on me and I will not stand for it.” You did not need him coming here, killing a bunch of villagers and getting you killed in the process.

“That hardly seems fair-“ you cut him off.

“This is my home and I will not have you making things worse for me.” You were dead serious.

“So as long as I don’t kill anyone, we should be fine is what you mean to say.” He had his eyes narrowed.

“Yes. You cannot kill or turn anyone in this village. Stick to wild game or leave outright. Anything deemed unnatural will undoubtedly point at me. Good luck Max.” You got up and dusted yourself off as you made your way over to your cottage. He sat there watching you go.

————————————————-

He paced back and forth in his room for hours. He was restless.

Once he was replete, your blood was singing in his veins. Seeing the look of pleasure on your face at his bite, the one you tried so valiantly to hide - was enough to send him into a frenzy.

He imagined himself buried to hilt in your wet heat as he fed, the sounds he would coax out of you.

Get it together. There has to be away you can stay without putting the town to slaughter.

He thought about how to keep you happy enough for him to stay.

Ha. That’s funny, just a day ago I was trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

Think Max - there has to be something you can do.

————————————————-

A vampire.

Ridiculous. That’s just what you needed.

A vampire running amok in this village - bringing death and destruction no doubt. You had lost some sleep thinking about him not heeding your warning.

You considered how you could push him to move on, to leave and choose another place to terrorize but then your mind went back to the feeling of his bite and you pushed it away.

Maybe this could be beneficial? Maybe you could feed him, while he stayed. You could spare a little bit of blood every week for your village couldn’t you? Not that they deserved it. The ungrateful wretches.

A tiny part of your brain whispered that you were decidedly not doing this for your village. You stomped that thought away.

You knew that he’d come back. You could almost hear his thoughts even now. Could hear him turning the thoughts over, trying to find a way to stay.

He’ll come back.

It was three days later, sooner than you’d expected.

You felt him out there, his presence casting a shadow over your home. Ambrose was pawing at the door - he felt him too.

“Can I help you Max?”

“Greetings.” He smiled, he was still looking healthy, but you knew that he wanted to feed again.

“Are you going to visit me every time you have a craving? This isn’t an inn.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“I’m here to propose a truce, an agreement that would help us both. If you would indulge me?” He sat under the willow tree and waited.

You grabbed your shall and wrapped it around your shoulders and made your way out. He was smiling up at you as you stood over him - there was a hint of something underneath it. You had the vague sense of stepping into a trap. You sat down beside him anyway.

“What can I help you with?” You were wearing a plain shift while you did some chores, it was a thin linen and left nothing to the imagination, the shawl was necessary if you didn’t want him to see you practically in the nude. If he saw anything - he made no mention of it.

“I believe I have figured out a way that we could happily co-exist here-“ you cut him off, knowing where this was going.

“You want to feed off me periodically, I thought you might have come up with something more original. Are all vampires so utterly predictable?” You said it with a laugh. He thought he was so clever.

He huffed like a child being caught red handed.

“If you can remain calm, and only come to me when you really need it then yes. I would be willing to help you. In exchange for my blood and hospitality you must promise to stay civil. Not just with me, with the whole village. No scandals Max I mean it. How often do you need to feed?” the look on his face was utterly transparent. He was so excited - you wanted to shake your head at this man. Aren’t vampires supposed to be scary?

“Splendid! Yes of course. I will keep to myself and leave the villagers alone in exchange for your blood. If I am to wait until I am at death's door - so to speak - it would be about once a fortnight. I would rather not wait that long, if I get too bloodthirsty I tend to forget my manners. I would say once a week should be sufficient, and as you already know, from you I don’t need much.” he couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

“From me? Do you mean to say that my blood is different?” That had stood out to you.

“If you were a regular human, I would be getting anxious to feed already. Your blood seems to be, I’m not sure fortified somehow? You’re the first witch I’ve ever fed from. We are equally informed in this.” He watched you as he spoke, his eyes flitting to your neck where it was exposed.

“I can live with this, I am trusting you Max. Please do not make me regret it.” A tiny part of your brain warned you, he is not to be trusted, he's a monster but another part screamed he won’t hurt you.

“Cross my heart.” his smile was still predatory, but you figured that couldn’t be helped- just his nature.

“Splendid.” Ambrose meowed and walked over, plopping himself comfortably in your lap and purring loudly. The three of you sat in silence for a while.

* * * * *

So it went, Max had stayed true to his word and the villagers were oblivious. He blended in well, after he fed of course.

He tended to zero in on you whenever you were at the market, you supported yourself by offering your services as a seamstress. You also provided cures and tinctures for the villagers - in secret. Not a single one of them would admit to receiving your help.

You also helped the women.

They knew to come to you when they did not want to conceive a child. It was a simple tea you brewed that had to be drunk within days of the coupling. That was even more of a secret. A secret every woman in the village seemed to know.

You would often feel him watching you from the shadows when you moved about, when people would approach you. When the men leered at you and whispered obscenities at you in passing.

I saw your lady wife not two days passed you’d think to yourself and brush it off.

Maybe I should let Max have his fill of all of you.

The thought always melted away.

* * * * *

“You’re exceptionally bad at that, you should know.” you spoke aloud as you made your way home with the articles of clothing you had to mend. You didn’t have to look in his direction to know he was just behind the trees.

“I’ll have you know, I have killed many people this way. They never hear me coming.” he was at your side in a flash. He moved faster than anything you’d ever seen in your life - that was good to know.

“Those people must have been deaf and blind. I saw you when I woke up, always mooning around my cottage. It’s rude, and careless.” you laughed at him, he frowned. You imagined you were the first person to ever laugh at him.

“You are...different. Are you really not afraid of me?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Should I be? If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already- and if you’re trying to scare me it’s not working.” you could see your home now, your flowers were blooming nicely.

“Most people can sense there’s something unnatural about me and that alone scares them. I supposed since you yourself are somewhat unnatural it would make you impervious to it.” he was trying to explain it to himself mostly it seemed.

“Right… or maybe you aren’t as terrifying as you think.” You picked a few of the roses to put them inside - a thorn you didn’t see pricked your finger. You snatched your hand back automatically but before you could stick it in your mouth like you usually would - Max had grabbed it in a flash. He licked the drop off your thumb before it could fall.

It shocked you how deeply erotic it was and made you blush slightly.

“Shouldn’t waste it.” he gave you a very different look then. No malice, no violence, but a very distinct sense of danger. The kind that made your undergarments dampen. You couldn’t help but imagine his tongue on other parts of your body. You shivered slightly and his smile widened.

Your thumb was healed as you pulled your hand away gently.

“Thank you.” you cleared your throat.

“Of course.” the smile remained. You realized then how broad he was, you still weren’t afraid, you were excited.

“Do you eat or drink anything besides blood?” You were genuinely curious then, your scientific brain scolding your more primitive one.

“I enjoy wine, and I can eat regular food, but I don’t enjoy it, I don’t need it for sustenance.” he looked to your cottage. “Are you going to invite me in again? You know I can’t come in.”

“Would you like some tea? I could bring it out, I’d rather not have you lurking around. You could also help me with some of the more substantial chores. Might as well make yourself useful. Take this and go chop me some wood, shouldn't take you too long with your strength.” He huffed and walked towards the trees with the axe you handed him.

All in all it was a pleasant day, the light was low now; the afternoon giving way to dusk. You sat in your garden with Max, drinking tea while having him do the manual labor you couldn’t do on your own. He cut you enough firewood to last the season, stacking it neatly against the outer wall. He removed some of the branches of the Willow that threatened to engulf the structure if left unattended. He did these things gracefully, but with a pout on his face. Obviously not accustomed to any sort of physical work except chasing down prey.

You even had him reinforce the roof, making sure it was sturdy and that it would not let in any rain. He hated it.

“I think I’m done for the day. I also expect some sort of recompense.” he frowned at you, he looked annoyed but no worse for wear, any other man would be dripping in sweat and red faced by now with the amount of work he’d done.

“Do you mean to say that my company and the tea I have been so generously providing is not reward enough?” you tried to look hurt but the face of pure incredulity he made had you laughing loudly. “Very well then, you can have a little bit.” you handed your wrist over to him good naturedly.

He made no move to take your outstretched wrist - he stared into your eyes.

“Since this is out of our normal arrangement, I’d like to choose where I bite you.” he watched your face intently and saw the flicker of fear and excitement you couldn’t control.

“I will not get naked Max.” You were flushed and your voice wavered slightly.

“No need - come, sit on my lap.” He sat on a little wooden bench you had in your garden. Those words did something to you, you felt the slick pooling at your opening, threatening to drip out.

“I really don’t think-” he raised a hand cutting you off.

“I did everything you asked of me, I can promise you this will not hurt. That is unless you want it to.” he opened his arms expectantly.

Fine you thought. I can do this - it’ll only be a few seconds, a minute at the most.

You approached and made to sit ‘side saddle’ as it were but he stopped you.

“I’d like you to face me - I would say I won’t bite but that’s not true is it?” He was enjoying this entirely too much.

You straddled him, your skirts bunching up and collecting much higher on your thighs than you would have liked. You were trying to keep as much distance as you could manage without falling off him but he wasn’t happy with that either. He brought his big hands to your ass and pulled you flush to him, making you put your palms on his chest.

“I don’t want you to slide off, I’m giving you the choice now, would you rather me bite you here-” he trailed a finger lightly across your neck right at your pulse point - which he could clearly feel was pounding. “Or here…” he dropped the finger down, to the swell of your breast just visible at the top of your dress. He looked you in the eye then, you could see the last light of the sun in them, the darkness falling around you a fitting backdrop to your current predicament.

“Um- which one will hurt less..?” you swallowed thickly, not wanting to make the choice yourself.

“There will always be a pinch, but you know I can make it feel good.” he brought his face close to your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he inhaled the scent of you. You could feel the sharp ache of arousal in your belly and in your cunt.

“I will choose for you, I know how much blood I can safely take from you, today - I will take my time.” He moved your hair to the side exposing the column of your neck to him, you shifted slightly and felt how hard he was underneath you. You were not the only one affected by the close proximity.

You felt him kiss your neck lightly before the bite and it was even better than your wrist.

He put more pressure in his jaw and you felt it deeper, you couldn’t help but moan at the pull - your hands automatically raising up to grab at his hair. Whether to pull him away or hold him closer you’d never be able to tell.

His hands skated along your ass, up towards your waist as you squeezed him with your thighs. It felt so good you couldn’t contain yourself and this is when the fear came. Not of him, but fear of what that bite could make you do. He stopped then, pulling away reluctantly to look into your eyes again.

“I can taste your fear - am I hurting you?” he licked the trail of blood that trickled toward your breast and you let out a gasp.

“No- I’m not afraid of you, more of myself…” Your brow furrowed and you realized you were clutching frantically as his hair. You loosened your grip.

“You are afraid of the feeling, I will not continue if you want me to stop - I can take a little more from your wrist and we can go back to our regular arrangement. Although you taste divine regardless, I like it better when you’re not afraid.” He trailed little kisses back up to the bite, licking the drops that dripped from the wound he hadn’t closed.

It was hard to focus.

You took a deep breath and decided to let yourself enjoy this. It had been far too long since you had any kind of sexual encounter and this felt too good to stop. You pushed his head into your neck signaling you were ready and he returned to it with vigor.

He took an age between pulls, drawing out the dark pleasure of it. You could feel him savoring you in his mouth and he hummed contentedly into your skin. You ran your fingers lovingly through his hair and he rewarded you with a growl when you ran your nails across his scalp.

You were soaked through your undergarments and you started grinding your hips against his, chasing a little bit of friction. He sensed this and brought his hand up to the front of your dress.

You felt him snap the string that held the corset together, pulling it open to reveal the loose blouse underneath. You gasped as he moved away from your neck, licking the wound closed while he pulled the shirt down. Your breasts spilled out and the look on his face was ravenous.

“I’m going to bite you once more, stop me now if you don’t want me to.” He left a trail of kisses from your neck down your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts. He dragged his fangs over the soft skin not quite hard enough to pierce it but just enough to feel it. You made no move to stop him - he saw your excitement and he licked one nipple, then the other. You waited for the bite, bracing yourself for the pinch, expecting it to be a little bit more painful here but it didn’t come.

He raised his lips a little, biting just above your nipple and letting the blood trickle down. You bit your lip at the expression on his face, he was enraptured - watching the drop adorn your nipple like a ruby.

He licked at it and you moaned. His hands returned to your waist and he steadily rocked your hips against his, giving you the delicious friction you’d been chasing before while he licked every drop of blood. It was intoxicating and you could feel the slippery glide of your undergarments against the engorged bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. He licked the wound closed and moved to your other neglected breast. The pressure was building and you could feel the release approaching - the feeling pooling in your belly.

“Max… I need…” your voice was breathy.

“Hmm?” he hummed around your nipple and it was almost enough. “What do you need, pretty girl?” he looked up at you. It was full dark now but his eyes had an unnatural glare to them. You knew he could see everything.

“I need more, please” you were desperate, not even knowing what it is you wanted him to do. He bit your nipple and that was it. You clenched painfully around nothing as you hit your peak.

Grinding against him wantonly as he drank from your breast. He licked at the wounds softly as you came down.

“I’ve tasted your pleasure, and it is intoxicating.” He kissed his way up, nipping playfully at your chin.

You were boneless. Absolutely spent. That was the best climax of your life and you were - for the most part - fully clothed. He pulled up your shirt to make you presentable.

“I apologize about your corset - I will replace the string.” He helped you up off his lap and walked you to your door. You were expecting him to ravish you but he was a perfect gentleman, all things considered.

“Goodnight.” he smiled as he walked into the darkness. You watched him go, feeling relaxed.

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

How will I ever go back to feeding from humans?

Max laid in the bed back at the inn, still as the dead as it were.

He replayed the whole interaction in his mind - could feel you sitting in his lap - could see the look of rapture on your face as you reached your peak.

There was no way he was leaving.

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

You laid in bed, watching the last embers of the fire glow in the hearth.

Have I made a mistake?

You thought about Max and the implications of what took place. You had enjoyed the act so much it scared you slightly, and knew that without question you’d let him do it again. You would let him do much more - hoped he would in fact.

You had no qualms about morality or propriety, your attitude towards sex was very progressive in terms of the villagers. All of the ridiculous rules about courting and marriage and being unclean, it was all hypocrisy. Everything said out loud under the pretense of being “godly”, but they still came to you in secret for the tea. Tea which wouldn’t definitely not be needed if they practiced what they preached.

You had let him expose you and taste you in such an intimate and erotic way out in the middle of your garden, not caring who could have come upon you in that moment- and you knew that you would do it again.

You thought about it for a long time as Ambrose purred contentedly curled up against you.

* * * * *

“Hello Max.” You were hanging your clothes and linens to dry when you heard him creeping up.

“It still surprises me that you always hear me coming, you’re the first person to surprise me in a long time.” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Must be strange, how long have you been this way?” You hung the last of the clothes and turned to face him. He hadn’t come in a few days and you suspected that once again he was thirsty. You tried to ignore the excitement that bubbled up.

“I was turned just under two hundred years ago, give or take a few decades - I stopped counting a long time ago.” He smiled pleasantly as he watched you going about your duties.

“I’m exceedingly curious, you’re the first of your kind I’ve ever met.” You were dying to ask him a million questions.

“Ask away - we can trade questions, I’m equally as curious about you.” He came over to help you with your tasks.

“Who turned you?” you were pulling up weeds as he fixed a post in your fence.

“It was a drifter, she came into town and I was completely enamoured with her. I knew there was something different about her and I think I was terrified of her. I don’t really remember to be honest - all I know is after a particularly wild evening I woke up different.” He came over to help you with the weeds. His face was not as pouty as the last time he helped you around your cottage.

“What happened to her?” You tried to ask it as naturally as you could, he gave you a little smile.

“She was killed as far as I know. She didn’t stick around, she turned me - taught me a few things and then took off. I heard about her being killed years later. Have you always known you were a witch?” he watched you now.

“Yes - my mother was a witch and she taught me everything I know. How many people have you turned?” You gathered all of the weeds and threw them into the compost pile at the edge of the garden. The day was sweltering, you had to figure out how to get him into the cottage.

“Only one. Why do you protect the villagers? I’ve heard the way they speak about you.” You noticed he didn't elaborate on your question - you didn’t press it.

“It’s not for the villagers, it’s for me. I love my home and I don’t want to be driven out. They spout their garbage but they don’t bother me for the most part. They aren’t all bad.” You sat in the shade - trying to cool yourself off. “Do you ever get lonely? Traveling by yourself for so many years?” he looked at you then.

“Sometimes - most of the time though I don’t think about it. Do you? Seems to me you don’t get very many suitors out here, with the way the people here are.” again - he didn’t elaborate on his answer.

“To be quite honest - I never really thought about it, I enjoy being alone for the most part. Would be nice to have someone around sometimes though.” You were more honest than you should have been but he made no comment.

You were enjoying the conversation and the company when you heard a commotion on the path to your house. You heard the voices of a few of the more aggressive townspeople.

“That’s where the witch lives!” they hadn’t seen you sitting in the doorway of your home, you tried your hardest to ignore it. Max frowned. You gave him a look that said leave it alone and tried to continue your conversation with him.

“We should just burn this stupid old cottage down and then she can leave, she’s not wanted here anyway.” they were young and stupid - a couple of boys and girls barely entering into adulthood.

“I would caution against that.” Max's voice rang out loudly and with a tinge of anger. You heard the laughter die suddenly.

“Who are you?” one of the braver boys asked him confrontationally.

“Someone with manners.” he walked over to the edge of the property, technically it was walking yes - but it was more like stalking. He slinked over. It made you think of Ambrose when he hunted mice outside.

You could see the fear in their faces.

“Did your parents not teach you any manners? Perhaps I should teach you.” You saw the look of terror on their faces at his expression. You would never know what he looked like in that moment, his back facing you. They ran screaming.

When he turned to face you his expression could only be described as a friendly smile.

“You didn’t need to do that - they’re silly children.” you had your arms crossed, your expression was playful though.

“Silly children can grow up to be violent adults.” He seemed nonplussed.

You didn’t need him to protect you, but it was nice that he wanted to.

What are we doing here?

He left later on, he did not ask to feed.

* * * * *

You found yourself thinking about Max more often than not, you wanted to sit and talk to him, spend time with him, that- among other things.

You knew he watched you, you could always feel it. Sometimes he approached and sometimes he didn’t. You briefly thought it should have scared you but it never did. He watched you in your garden, he watched you as you tended to your washing, whether you were hanging your linens or you were washing in the creek close to your home.

He was your shadow. It made you feel safe funnily enough.

This went on for months.

He started coming at night. The days were too long and you suspected that as much as he tried he hated being out in the sun too often. It didn’t stop him and he still made an appearance but kept his feedings limited to night time.

It would be a prickle on the back of your neck as you prepared your meals, or boiled water to bathe. You’d know he was outside, you could almost feel his eyes on you through the walls.

You’d check the little window and see him smiling, waiting patiently for you.

His feedings would excite you more and more each time - no matter where he bit you. Whether it was your wrist, your neck, your chest. It felt wonderful and you always hated the moment he pulled away. Wanting to keep him close regardless of the danger. He always took just enough to satisfy him, never enough to hurt you or make you feel faint. Any feelings of faintness on your end had nothing to do with loss of blood.

He never took it further than the day in the garden. More often than not you would end up pushed up against your door, breasts out for his mouth and his leg pressing up between your legs. He was driving you mad.

You suspected he was trying to break you, make you beg for him. You knew in your heart that if this kept happening, you would.

* * * * *

It had been two weeks since you’d seen or felt Max.

After a week you thought he might be pushing it to make you desperate and you laughed about it but now you were well and truly worried. You knew that he was seriously pushing it and that by now he would be ravenous.

You tried to listen out for any news while in the market - it scared you more than you thought that you couldn’t sense him. Couldn’t feel the shadow you’d become so accustomed to.

No one said anything about him - you were starting to think the townspeople didn’t even know him. It made sense all things considered, he wasn’t a big fan of the day time and he had only stayed in the inn that first week.

I never even asked him where he was staying.

Your fear was now tinged with guilt, you were so curious about what he was but you never bothered to find out where he was living so to speak. The feeling compounded as the day dragged on.

“I heard they were torn to shreds.” You heard two ladies gossiping as they picked produce off a cart in the market place and you held your breath.

“Well, as you know my son went over there for his lessons and there were scratches in the door, it seems some wild animal got in and mauled the poor man.” Your heart was in your throat, there was no way, Max wouldn’t do this. He gave you his word. You had to find him.

* * * * *

It was another two days before he showed up at your door. Ambrose hissed loudly as you opened it - he looked terrible. He had deep scratches on his face, his clothes were ragged, he looked gaunt and dead. His eyes were sunken in, his skin was waxy and pale and you could see his bones poking sharply through. This is the first time you’ve ever been genuinely scared of Max.

“I’m sorry - I’m so weak - I cannot heal…” he looked ashamed of himself, he looked like a ghoul.

He looked like a nightmare.

“What happened?” You didn’t come out of the cottage.

“Another one of my kind came, he killed a villager - I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it. I tried to stop him before he came close but I hadn’t fed, I managed to kill him but he had left me injured and it took me forever to drag myself over here. I need your help.” You could hear the struggle in his voice and see the way he was barely standing, leaning against your door valiantly. You moved to step out but his arm came up weakly.

“No, don’t come out here, I won’t be able to stop myself and I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes were terrible to look upon.

“How do I help?” You didn’t want him to be in pain.

“As much as I hate causing you pain, I need you to cut your hand, and put some of your blood into a glass, a jar, a vessel of some kind and very carefully put it outside the threshold when I close my eyes. I will close up the wound when I am myself. You have no idea how thankful I am for your protection right now my love.” You could see how sincere he was. His pet name squeezed your heart in a way you could get accustomed to.

You turned to grab a tea cup from the cupboard and your sharpest knife. You sliced open the palm of your hand without hesitation and you heard a snarl from the door. He could smell the blood and he was trying his hardest to stay calm. His eyes looked feral. The blood collected in the cup about halfway before the trickle started slowing down. You turned to him holding your palm against your chest.

“Close your eyes.” you were careful to stay inside. He slowly stepped back a few paces, giving you as much space as he could and closed his eyes. You quickly put the cup just outside the protection.

He was at the cup before you could blink, you had just managed to snatch your hand back. He drank the blood in a flash. Even in his state he didn’t let a drop spill. Going so far as to crack the teacup in half to lick it clean. The pieces were pristine when he dropped them on the ground.

He moved into the shadows then, just outside your field of vision and you thought it best to wait until he came back. You didn’t have to wait long.

He came back and the creature he had been previously was nowhere to be found. He didn’t look completely back to his usually ruddy health but that would soon change. You hesitated momentarily.

“Are you okay now? Can I come out?” You wanted to be sure, for his sake as much as yours.

“Yes you can come out, I am myself again, let me see your hand - it must hurt.” He held out his hand for you. You wanted more than his hand.

You practically leapt into his arms, had he been a regular man you would have knocked him over but he barely budged. You wrapped yourself around him tightly and he didn’t hesitate.

“I was so scared Max, I was terrified that something had happened to you.” You spoke into the cool skin of his neck, pressing yourself into him as tightly as you could. You hear him chuckle but he held onto you just as tightly.

“I’m sorry I worried you, I wanted to see you the whole time. I was scared you’d forget about me, I’m sure I’ve made an impression now though. Hopefully I didn’t scare you too badly.” he lifted your bleeding palm and licked the wound closed. The relief was instant and you felt the wound closing up.

“I won’t lie, you did startle me.” You pulled away and led the two of you back towards the threshold.

“Can you promise me you’ll never let yourself get to that point again?” you asked him as you moved inside.

“I give you my word, I hate looking like that.” You laughed at his vanity.

“Perfect. Help me with this.” You grabbed the axe and handed it to him." I know you cannot reach in or touch the wood in any way, can you try to shave off some of it? Just enough to get rid of the protection?” If he couldn’t you’d have to try to do it, it would just take you longer.

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I come to you in the middle of the night, looking for all intents and purposes like a monster. Snarling and feral for your blood, and you want to get rid of the only protection you have against me? Are you insane, woman?” he looked incredulous.

“Is that any way to speak to me, my love?” you put an emphasis on the words, watching the slow smile spread across his face. You thought he might have hoped you hadn’t noticed.

“I can try.” The smile didn’t leave his face as he went to work.

-

It took very little time to pry up the piece of wood at your threshold - you tossed it into the hearth. No use in wasting a good piece of wood.

Ambrose wound his way through Maxs legs when he walked through your cottage. It was strange to see him amongst your things.

Deliciously domestic.

You couldn’t help but feel self conscious as he leisurely walked through your home - stopping to inspect everything he saw. You’d lived alone for so long, all you saw now is how untidy and cramped it was.

There was clear curiosity written across his face and a sort of quiet wonder as he took everything in. You fiddled with your skirts as he continued his exploration.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked as he picked up a particularly large jar to read the label.

“No thank you, I’m sorry - I’m very curious.” You could see him scanning every surface, trying to take everything in at once. It wasn’t the same judgemental curiosity you saw from some of the villagers who came to you for help. You let him have his fill.

“Someone is here.” His head snapped up, you both heard the crunch of twigs a few seconds before there was a soft knock at the door. Ambrose perked his head up.

You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, Max was on the other side ready to jump out in case there was trouble. You shook your head.

The only trouble here is you. You couldn’t help but think to yourself.

“Good evening - I’m sorry to bother you so late, I need your help.” She was a young slip of a thing. Her eyes were wild and you could smell the desperation on her.

“Come in” You smiled - trying to make her feel welcome. She hesitated when she saw Max, you realized how terrifying he must look to others, his clothes were still tattered and shredded and he wasn’t fully back to normal yet.

“Don’t mind him - he’s fine. He won’t hurt you I promise.” you gave him a look that said play nice and he smiled warmly at her. He slinked away to fade into the background of your cottage. He picked up Ambrose on the way and when the girl heard the cat purring loudly she relaxed slightly.

“I- I desperately need your help, I- I did something I shouldn’t have. I’m so ashamed of myself and I am so scared. I don’t want to be disowned…I heard you- that you can help. Can you help me please?” She was on the verge of tears and shaking violently. You shushed her quietly - leading her towards your little table.

“Did you lay with a boy? How long has it been?” You spoke to her in soothing tones. You felt so bad for this girl, no one to turn to, nowhere to go except to the witch most people despised.

“It happened two nights past… did-did I wait too long?” The colour drained from her face at the aspect of being too late. You held her hand softly in yours and gave her a small smile.

“No dear, you came just in time - another day and I would not have been able to help.” You pat her hand softly as you move to gather your things.

“Max, could you please take that big pot near the hearth and fill it with water from the well outside?” You hadn’t had a chance to get some, what with Max showing up half dead- so to speak. He silently did as you asked.

You carefully measured out some dried herbs and flowers, a spoonful of honey and put it all into a teacup and placed it in front of her.

“What is it exactly? What will I have to do?” She was trying to distract herself - she was just as nervous about what you might do to her.

“It’s just tea. That’s all you have to do, drink a cup of tea.” She looked at the cup, you could tell she was nervous about what it was.

“It’s very special, the measurements have to be precise. Some Tansy, some Pennyroyal among other things and some honey because the flavour can be a little unpleasant. You mustn't try to make this on your own. You could really hurt yourself. Do you understand?” You looked her square in the eye. She nodded frantically.

Max came in then with the heavy pot full of water and at your nod he placed it over the fire to boil. She watched him warily and you sensed her fear, you placed your hand over hers again.

“I promise, he will not hurt you. He’s harmless.” you saw him give you a hurt look and it was hard to suppress the laughter.

“What will happen?” She asked you, her eyes wide and shining - she was just a child.

“You will sit here and you will drink your cup of tea. Within the next few days you will bleed, and then it will be over.” You grabbed a tiny burlap pouch and started filling it with more herbs and flowers- lavender and chamomile. Adding a few pinches of more exotic ingredients from your garden as you went and tying it closed with string.

“I will warn you though, the bleeding will hurt. You will cramp up and it will feel very intense. It will last a day or so and the blood will be heavy. When you feel the pain getting to be too much - take a bath with water as hot as you can stand it. Soak in it for as long as you can with this. Place it in the water with you and it should help you a little bit.” You smiled sympathetically as you carefully ladled some of the boiling water into the cup you prepared.

“I understand, thank you for helping me - what can I do to repay you?” she asked as she took the cup from you, careful so as not to spill a drop.

“You can suggest my name next time you hear someone needs a seamstress. Maybe a friendly smile when you see me at the market?” You smiled at her warmly. She returned it shyly.

Her face scrunched up at the flavour but you urged her to drink the whole thing. You sat with her quietly as she finished it, taking the cup from her.

“Perfect, now - hurry home and make sure you’re careful. Take this - It’s willow-bark, if the pain gets too much even after your bath, chew a bit of this and it will help.” You guided her to your door and she suddenly turned to hug you fiercely.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would have done.” You saw the tears shining in her eyes and you sent her off with a smile.

Max was at your side in an instant, the both of you watching her make her way through the woods. He could sense your worry over her being out in the dark so late.

“Would you like me to make sure she makes it home safely?” He placed his hand around your waist and spoke into your temple - kissing you there softly. Your heart floated, how had you ever lived without him.

“Yes please - make sure you don’t scare her.” you kissed the hollow of his throat before he disappeared.

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

The girl walked home quickly, Max could sense her fear. It was normal.

Most humans are afraid of the dark and this one was no different. Normally she should have been afraid of Max.

I’m following a girl home to keep her safe. This is definitely a first.

Max thought about you the whole time, he thought about your kindness towards these people. He had met a lot of people in his life and he thought he’d seen it all, but you still managed to surprise him. These people didn’t deserve you.

You were so patient with her, so sweet. You wanted her to feel safe, warned her to be careful. You were more than he deserved, but he wanted to change that, he wanted to be worthy of you.

He thought back to how he had been when he was a human, to when he first turned.To how he had been just before he got here. He was a monster.

He had been born into a modest family, not wealthy but not lacking in anything important. Although he had always had a good work ethic, he had a horrible mindset. Towards people - he was less than gentlemanly.

Towards women even more so.

He knew he’d been handsome in his youth, and he used it viciously. He’d left a trail of broken hearts throughout his early years.

After he turned he was worse, much worse.

He ran rampant, he killed indiscriminately - feeding to the point of gluttony. It passed. If there was anything Max had learned it was that eventually, everything passed.

He didn’t want to think about his past, ever since he met you he found himself wanting to be different. You brought out a tenderness in him he didn’t know he had and he wanted you to want him, but it was more than that. He wanted you to respect him. To think highly of him.

He wanted you to love him.

-

When he got back to your cottage you were asleep, curled up with the cat. You looked so peaceful, so content. He couldn’t wake you up.

He slipped into the bed with you as quietly as he could and wrapped you up in his arms.

——————————————-

After that night Max barely left your cottage. He had made himself at home and it felt like a missing piece of the puzzle was finally in place.

Ambrose loved him. He plopped himself onto Max’s lap whenever he could and purred loudly against him.

You opened up the door to find a basket with flowers, a pretty shawl and a note. It had been a week since the young girl came.

“Thank you for your help, I’ll never forget it xo”

You smiled as you brought it in, Max raised an eyebrow.

“I take it everything worked out?” He poked around in the basket, Ambrose perched on his shoulder.

“Yes. She’s so sweet, I’m glad she’s okay.” You tucked the letter away and smiled at him.

“I guess some of the villagers aren’t so bad.” He conceded.

———————————————

The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, he slept throughout most of the day while you worked or toiled in the garden. You didn’t have to ask him for help, when he woke up he would always ask what he could do. A far cry from the first time you’d asked him to help you with manual tasks.

He still fed from you, but to your surprise he hadn’t tried to take things further with you. That encounter in the garden was the furthest you’d gone. It wasn’t due to lack of enthusiasm, you could feel his excitement each time he bit you.

You thought about it when he kissed the inside of your wrist a few days later, he always did this when he wanted blood. He would kiss your wrist and wait.

“Yes Max you can bite.” You turned to look at him. He wasted no time. He liked to spread his bites out, take his time. He’d turned his feedings into a ritual.

You decided to push things a little further and when he bit your wrist you started undoing your corset. He watched you with his mouth still on you and his eyes flashed with something that screamed predator.

He has his fangs in your skin of course he’s a predator.

You continued to stare as he licked your wound closed, he was curious to see what you would do - he didn’t let go of your wrist.

You pulled it away and slowly took off the blouse and the skirts you were wearing, pulled off every article of clothing you wore until you were stark naked. You laid beside him in silence and stared up at him, taking his hand softly and putting it on your breast. You could not be more clear on what you wanted.

He was on you in a flash, one second it was sitting beside you the next he was on top of you.

“I’ve wanted to see you like this for a long time.” He kissed his way down your chest, placing kisses along your sternum, biting into your skin just enough to draw a bead of blood, then licking the wound closed.

It was mesmerizing, seeing him pierce your skin over and over. It hurt a little bit each time but it was so erotic - the pain added to the pleasure of anticipation.

You ran your fingers through his hair softly, he loved physical touch and he made sure you knew it.

“I’m going to bite you somewhere I’ve wanted since I laid eyes on you.” He kissed his way down, over the soft skin of your belly, over the curve of your hip, going lower still. Your heart was racing and your arousal was dripping onto your blankets.

He made himself comfortable between your thighs, bringing them up onto his shoulders. You could feel him taking in your scent and he looked ravenous. You vaguely wondered if he would bite your mound and that excited you more than you cared to admit.

He gently placed kisses around your mound, bringing his fingers to spread open your lower lips. You were breathing hard, praying silently that he was going to do what you thought he might.

He licked a long stripe from your opening up to the little bundle of nerves, you let out a moan at the act. No man had ever done this to you before. It was overwhelming.

He focused his tongue on the pearl of your sex and kept at it in a steady rhythm. A rhythm that had you slowly grinding your hips onto his face.

This was euphoria, this was heaven.

“Max, what are you doing to me? It’s so good…”

He looked up at you through his long lashes, humming into your skin as you got more and more desperate. Your arousal was leaking out of you steadily at his actions.

You felt fingers probing your entrance and you thought you were going to faint, the pleasure was so great, his fingers curling inside you, touching something that felt forbidden in its intensity. You whimpered as he set a fast rhythm with his fingers, the sound of them pumping in and out was wet and obscene and it made you ever wetter.

“Max… Max I’m going to… Oh god…” you were staring into the vast abyss that was the little death, you were careening into it when he pulled away from you and bit harshly into your inner thigh at the crease.

The pleasure was blinding.

His fingers pumping into you as you hit your peak while he fed, he kept going, until you begged him to stop. Only then did he pull his fingers out. Licking the wound closed as he did. He looked feral.

“I could feast on you forever my love.” Be sucked his fingers clean and your body clenched involuntarily.

You pulled him towards you and kissed him desperately, licking along the seam of his lips to ask permission. He opened up and licked into your mouth with the same enthusiasm. You could taste the coppery taste of your blood in his mouth, it didn’t bother you.

You hastily pulled his clothes off, needing him to sink into you. He obliged and was naked quickly, pulling you up to sit in his lap on the edge of your bed.

“I want you like this, I want you to take your pleasure from me my love, use me, take what you need.” He kissed your neck, your chin, your collar bones.

His cock was thick, gorgeous and intimidating. You tentatively grasped it in your hand and guided it to your entrance. You were wet enough that your body put up no resistance but the stretch was still there. It was delicious and you moaned as you lowered yourself onto him fully.

“You’re the tightest, wettest thing I’ve ever felt, how does my cock feel?” He kissed your neck and bit your ear, licking the wound as fast as he’d made it. His hands held your hips as you grinded in his lap, rolling them wantonly.

“It feels so good Max, you feel so good, bite me again.” You felt unhinged, this was not your first time but the other times had felt hasty and unfulfilling, clumsy and they left you wanting. This was not clumsy. This was everything it should be.

“Where do you want my bite, tell me and I’ll do it, I’ll do anything for you..” he was losing control now, bucking up into you, making you bounce on him. You felt the edge of the abyss again, opening its mouth to swallow you whole. You were going to let it.

“Here..” you held your breast in your hand and pulled his head down by his hair roughly, he moaned and bit you. Your body exploded into a million tiny pieces and you clenched around him. He moaned at the feeling and spilled into you. Seizing up with his mouth on your breast.

You both sat there, holding each other closely. You’d never felt more connected to anyone in your life.

“Max…” You breathed his name onto his skin, you didn’t know how to properly express how you felt in that moment. He held you tightly, running his nose along your skin, mapping it out so to speak.

“Yes my love? Did you enjoy that?” He skimmed every inch of you he could reach, his big warm hands holding onto your hips, squeezing your flesh reassuringly.

“Yes - I-I’ve never enjoyed it like that before, I want to do it again.” You were momentarily self conscious but you had no reason to. He smiled warmly and guided you to the bed to lay in between your legs.

“We can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I am yours.” he kissed you then, and kept his word.

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

*Adding everyone in my tag-list, if you don't want to be in everything Pedro related just let me know!*

Tag-list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey (Thanks for your help with this one, brainstorming with you really helped me put this together <3) @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs

[beiasluv]

Imagine being the royal advisor of Cair Paravel and having King Edmund as your husband

*just me rambling, I hope you guys like it :D*

*gif not mine*

Warning: no proof reading-

Enjoy!

masterlist

Carrying scrolls and quills around the castle all the time

Pondering in the royal garden

Always meet up with each other when you have free time

Likes to go on a daily thinking stroll with Edmund on the beach

Reading in the library, I mean ‘reading everywhere’

Sharing books and novels

Edmund likes to tease you by spoiling

"Love, did you read chapter 23 yet?"

"EDMUND! don't you dare spoil it-"

Writing poems for each other

Using the day off to summarize each other the books they read

Edmund stealing glances at you during a council meeting

Debating in the meeting and Edmund being a proud husband

Gets overprotective when you got talked back

Support each other in the council meeting

Being best friends with Susan and Lucy

Being the greatest aunt and uncle to Peter’s daughter

Edmund riding you around with Phillip after the day

Going to other kingdoms for royal affairs with each other

Traveling with each other on boats

Edmund, comforting you when you are seasick

Slow dancing in your shared room and playing around

Goes to the ball together and dance the night away in the secret garden

Helping Edmund with his royal papers ‘after hours’

Having a special name for each other

“Darling, what are your thoughts on this proposal?”

Giving your thoughts on the bed and going on and on

Help edit his paper when he fell asleep with them

Being teased as ‘Edmund’s royal secretary’ by king Peter

Taking care of Edmund when he comes back after a battle or a war

Edmund showing his vulnerable side to you only

You like to play music for him, or just simply a hum

Goodnight/morning kisses

Brushing his hair

Giving him facial care, massages, spa and face masks

Edmund planting flowers for you

Edmund with glasses- ahsjkdsk

[filmsmakkari]

It's Quiet Uptown

Wordcount- 1.4k

Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader

Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

I would recommend listening to the song here!

Full Series Masterlist

-Forgive me for the abrupt ending on this one, my ending worked better as a beginning for the next part :)

Years came and went, and eventually your nephew, Phillip, with whom you’d grown quite close, graduating from King’s College. You couldn’t have been more proud of him, but you were also slightly fearful. He had confided in you that he felt that as a college graduate, it was time to come into his own. “I must be my own man, like my father, but bolder,” he had said to you. Thomas must have been the boldest person you, or anyone your age would see in your lifetimes, so you feared what Phillip would do.

You feared he would do something outlandish, perhaps he would challenge every member of parliament to a duel or maybe he would marry one of those lovely young ladies that he’d met in the town square- Sasha and Ariana you believed they were called- and which ever one he didn’t marry he would invite to the consummation. You never could have guessed what he actually decided to do. You wished you had been there, you knew you could have talked it out of it, but when the event took place you were back in Jimbaari for a royal ceremony.

You were drafting a letter to your mourning brother in law- dear Peggy’s husband- to offer your condolences when your lady-in-waiting, Kiara of Cinera, rushed in with a letter in her hand. You looked up at her, confused at the sad expression on her face.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m note sure how to tell you this, but Phillip… he was… he was killed in a duel with that lawyer, George Baker.”

Your heart dropped. Your eyes immediately filled with tears. “What?”

“Baker spoke against Thomas during the Victory Day parade. He disparaged Thomas’ legacy so Phillip challenged him to a duel, but before Phillip could walk ten paces, George turned around and shot him at seven- (Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

Your mind was going a million miles a minute. Nothing made sense. “No, no, I don’t understand… Phillip is the most gentle, caring soul I have ever had the pleasure to know- I... he would never… be involved in something like this.”

Kiara nodded sadly. “Yelizaveta and Thomas have decided to move uptown- to Irecabeth. In Thomas’ correspondence he beckoned you to their new home.”

You tried to reorganize your thoughts. Your dearest sister and the only man you’d ever truly loved were going through the unimaginable, and you needed to be there for them.

You sniffled, saying shakily “Um, yes, begin packing immediately and book passage on a ship to Irecabeth. I will write a letter to them.”

You did just as you said you would, picking up a quill and a fresh piece of paper, writing with shaking hands on a tear stained page.

It Read:

My Dearest, Eliza,

Words cannot express the deep sorrow I feel. The news that our dearest Phillip has passed away has brought me a sense of grief too terrible to name. As parents, we must hold our children as tight as we can, in turn  pushing away the unimaginable. Tomorrow I will find myself riding my most darling horse, Mignonette, through the gardens of Jimbaarian Court to review our troops. I find it most difficult to fathom the mere idea of doing such a thing with this news weighing on me. It is my opinion, that there are moments in life where you are in the melancholy sea so deep, it feels impossible to keep yourself afloat, so you think it prudent to simply swim down. It is this sea of gloominess in which I currently feel trapped.

My thoughts and sympathy are with you and our dear Thomas as you face this loss beyond compare. To bear a child is to know for the first time in one’s life, true love, And, on the other hand, to lose a child is to know true pain. I cannot begin to imagine feeling such devastation. I wonder how the lord in his goodness could deal such a fatal blow to our family.

My usual eloquence seems to have left me, as I seemingly cannot produce more words on this subject. In closing, I would like to note I accept your invitation, and will do my best to make my way to Irecabeth as soon as possible.

Votre sœur la plus aimante, affectueuse et vraie,

(Y/N), Empress of Jimbaari

You were back in Larione in what felt like an eternity later, when in truth it had only been a few days. You approached Thomas and Eliza’s new home, the picture of grief, your long black cloak trailing behind you as you walked. When you knocked in the door, it was opened by a very different Thomas than when you’d last seen him. Much of his hair had gone grey, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

His eyes widened at the sight of you. “Oh, (Y/N).” He immediately grabbed you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You reciprocated, wrapping your arms around him as well. His body racked with sobs as he cried into your shoulder.

“It’s been so difficult, (Y/N). So difficult. Phillip… Phillip never hurt a soul, (Y/N), he must have been so scared.”

Tears filled your eyes as Thomas essentially restated your words to Kiara, only said differently. You slowly rocked the both of you back and forth, two parents grieving the loss of a child. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not your feelings for him, not the Reynolds Pamphlet, not Anthony Monroe, or Christopher Jefferson, or Aaron Blackwell.

You managed to compose yourself enough to ask about Eliza’s whereabouts.

“She’s out back, in the garden.”

You smiled and nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek before making your way to your sister.

She looked like the living dead. Her eyes weren’t focused, she was just staring off into the distance, her face was stained with tears, the whites of her eyes were red. If your heart hadn’t already been ripped apart, it certainly would have shattered in that moment, seeing your sister that way.

“Oh, Eliza,” you said, rushing over to the planter on which she was sitting.

Her eyes came into focus, brightening up at the sight of her dearest older sister.

“(Y/N)!” she cried out.

You ran to each other, meeting in the middle and hugging tightly.

“Oh, my dear girl. I wish it might be in my power by actions rather than words to ease your pain.”

“Oh, sister, it brings me unimaginable joy to see you here now,” she released you from the hug, walking you both back to the planter and taking a seat. “Especially now that our dear sweet Peggy has passed on, your presence is of the utmost comfort.”

You stayed in Larione for weeks, comforting your sister and brother in law, as well as your adoring nieces and nephews, most of whom did not understand that their dearest loving, protective, gentle older brother was never, ever, coming back. Most of all, you watched out for your oldest niece, (Y/N).

You were her namesake, and you two had always been close. She’d been the closest with Phillip, the pair of them had been inseparable. When she heard of her brother’s passing, she suffered a mental breakdown, which lead to what the doctor’s said would be a lifetime of insanity. She still spoke of her brother. It was as if he hadn’t died at all. It had pained you so deeply that you had to leave the room when you were playing the piano together and she said, “Oh, we simply must perform for Phillip! He and I have been working on this song for ages!”

The pain was almost unbearable. You found yourself contemplating if life was worth all the suffering. You had never had your own children with your husband, so you had always held Phillip and (N/S) in the same regards you would have held your own children.

One day, you were reading a book near an open window. You saw a movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you looked up you saw Thomas and Eliza, standing close. She took his hand, and said so quietly, “It’s quiet uptown.”

You sighed, a soft smile decorating your face. “Forgiveness. Can you imagine?”

The grace with which Eliza was handling the situation was almost too powerful to name. Perhaps seeing your sister dealing with the situation with such courage is what inspired you to begin to rebuild your contentment.

And little by little, you did. Little by little, it got better.

[viscountessevie]

To Lady Paige, With Love [Part 2]

Main Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x FemOC! Paige Crane [Reference to Past! Marina Thompson x Paige Crane]

Series Summary: A WLW Rewrite of To Sir Phillip, With Love - featuring my OC Paige Crane, Phillip's twin sister. What happens when Eloise Bridgerton writes to Phillip after the death of his wife but her letter gets intercepted by his twin sister who loved more Marina than he ever did?

Chapter Summary: After corresponding with Eloise for over a year using her brother's name, Paige is mourning Marina's first death anniversary. All Paige wanted was some peace and quiet but little does she know, she's in for a rude awakening

Trigger Warnings: Grief, Brief Mentions of Previous Death/Suicide Attempt, Depression & Anxiety

Part 1 - Prologue: Take Me To The Lakes

Chapter 1: Right Where You Left Me [February 1823]

5:48pm. That time would haunt Paige for the rest of her life.

'Time of death: 5:48pm.' the doctor had said. The moment Marina was officially pronounced dead, Paige screamed. She could still hear the echoes of her own scream every night she spent in Marina's room, sobbing herself to sleep. It had been a month since she died. Paige truly understood what Marina felt and went through.

The grief, pain and sadness was all consuming. She was drowning in her own emotions. It made her want to throw herself into the lake and join Marina. At least drowning in the lake was tangible. It was a tangible way to match the melancholy she was feeling. Through the pain, Paige had learnt that when people take their lives, they don't get rid of the melancholy, they simply pass it on. Paige had become a victim of Marina's pain being passed onto her.

She knew that everyone was dealing with the loss on their own but she was just so angry with Phillip and the children and even the staff. Pretending like Marina was never there. The worst part is, she couldn't fault them for it. Marina wasn't there, at least not mentally present. The last month has eased off her anger. She nearly bit Phillip's head off when he came back from his business trip the day before she passed.

"You should have been here! I may love her but she's still your wife!"

"I had a very important specimen to pick up, you know that, Paige." He said gruffly. She was so sick and tired of him using his experiments as an excuse to neglect his family.

"I know that!" She snapped at him, "These trips are getting ridiculous. You can't keep using them to run away from your responsibilities. You made a commitment to her and your children. You completely abandoned them!" Her voice cracked with anger. Now Phillip was getting frustrated with her and snapped back at his twin.

"Do you think I wanted to carry those burdens? I had no choice in the matter! I had to be the one to clean up the mess George left behind!"

She stepped back at her brother's outburst. He never yelled. He refused to be their father. She knew she had crossed the line. She softened her expression.

"I shouldn't have yelled, I apologise. But so help me God, you will not repeat that to her or the children. They are our family, Phillip, 'not a mess George left behind." Her voice was low, laced with a cold fury.

"She's resting now but you should go see her. I'll give you two some privacy." Paige made her suggestion sound like a demand. There was absolutely no reason why he should neglect his duties as a husband now. She wasn't going to let him off the hook for it. She quickly slipped into the room to kiss Marina's forehead. She allowed Philip in and headed off to tend to the children.

Then there was that dreadful conversation where Amanda openly admitted that she was glad her mother was gone. Paige knew on an intellectual level that's not what Amanda had meant. She meant she was happy her mother was happy even if it meant she was gone. But emotionally, it destroyed Paige to hear that.

It was exhausting to feel like the only one who truly cared for Marina. She had all these emotions welled up inside her, screaming to be let out. Yet she felt like she couldn't talk to anyone. The children played and carried on as per normal. While Phillip had stopped taking his trips to avoid the children, he has hidden away in the Greenhouse more often. He refuses to talk about her. What else could she expect from her twin who represses the slightest hint of human emotion. God forbid he let himself feel sad.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that everyone processed grief in different ways. She needed something to get her mind off things. On cue, Miles came in to deliver the mail. She gestured for him to hand them over and he took his leave.

She flipped through the envelopes, none addressed to her. Of course no one would write to her and the only person who would, died. She was about to put down the pile when a name jumped out at her.

From: Eloise Bridgerton No. 5, Bruton Street London

She remembered Eloise like it was yesterday. They spent some time together during their first season. She came as a package deal with Penelope Featherington. So when Marina had struck up a friendship with Penelope, Paige found herself spending a lot of time with the two of them. The four of them were quite the formidable group during that first season. Paige remembered how many suitors Marina had received. Unable to deal with her jealousy in a healthy manner, she did what she did best, ran away from her emotions. She poured herself into a friendship with Eloise. Somewhere along the way, she had developed feelings for the clever Bridgerton. She recalled how she did her best to repress those feelings. Even though at the time, Marina and her were nowhere close to courtship, Paige still felt like she was being unfaithful to her.

There was just something about Eloise that had drawn Paige to her.

She shook her head rather violently, as if trying to shake those memories away. How could she be thinking of that when she's supposed to be grieving Marina? She set down the letter, leaving it for Phillip to read it later when he finally comes out of hiding.

She stood up to head to Marina's room to mope. It almost seemed like she had taken Marina's place as the Romney Hall's living ghost. What was the point in living your life when the person you wanted to spend it with was gone?

But rising questions about Eloise's letter stopped her. For one, why was it addressed to Phillip rather than her? She knew it had been well over a decade, but had Eloise forgotten her already?

Her plan to mope for the day had been abandoned and she picked up Eloise's letter once again. She picked up the letter opener and impulsively ripped it open.

Sir Phillip Crane —

I am writing to express my condolences on the loss of your wife, my dear friend Marina, I remember her fondly and was deeply saddened to hear of her passing .

Please do not hesitate to write if there is anything I can do to ease your pain at this difficult time .

Yrs,

Miss Eloise Bridgerton

***

Oh. She was just as lovely as Paige remembered her. This was too kind of a letter to delay it's response. Paige went to her room and sat at her desk. She pulled out her stationary kit and fetched herself some parchment and a quill. She quickly penned down a response.

Dear Eloise —

I hope you remember me from your first season. Marina was a dear friend to me as well and I thank you for your kind note on behalf of Marina. It was thoughtful of you to write asking after us.

I offer you this flower attached as thanks. It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet.

Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

Sincerely -

*

She stopped short before she signed it off with her name. She had finally stepped out of her moment of impulsivity. Insanity more like, she thought to herself. She felt awful for invading Eloise and - by extension - Phillip's privacy.

She couldn't send this! How was she going to explain it?

*

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

I am absolutely mad and stole my brother's mail because I used to fancy you when we first debuted together in our first season.

Yours Sincerely, Paige Crane

That would certainly go over well. She would be lucky not to be locked up. She stared at her original letter and ripped it up. She detested the thought of Phillip striking up a friendship with Eloise. Deep down she knew if he became as enamoured with her as she once was, he'd make her his wife. It might have only been a month but she knew her brother. He needed a mother and wife for the children. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was already planning to look for one.

He had already taken Marina from her. As twins, they grew up sharing everything, starting from the womb. Everywhere Paige went, Phillip was there. They even had parallel careers. She just wanted this one person to herself. It was selfish she knew but she wanted to keep her London past for herself. Even if it meant never letting Phillip see the letter and responding on her own.

She rewrote another note without a second thought:

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for your kind note on behalf of my wife. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a gentleman you have never met. I offer you this full bloom flower as thanks.

It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet. Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

When it came to signing off, she hesitated for a moment at her dishonesty. Then the anger of having lost most of her life and identity to Phillip came up. That was motivation enough for her to scribble the last line of the letter:

Sincerely, Sir Phillip Crane.

***

Letter Correspondence From March 1823 to March 1824 Between Paige Crane & Eloise Bridgerton

Dear Sir Phillip -

Thank you so very much for the charming flower. It was such a lovely surprise when it came attached to the envelope. And such a precious memento of dear Marina, as well .

I could not help but notice your facility with the flower's scientific name and seemed to be knowledgeable about its properties. Are you a botanist?

Yours, Miss Eloise Bridgerton

*

Eloise’s response had come quite quickly in a week. It was no easy feat hiding the letters from Phillip. He was the Lord of the house after all. Paige was lucky enough to have a friend in Miles. She had been the one to stop Phillip from being let go. She had named him her personal assistant instead. She coyly asked Miles for a favour and requested that all of Eloise’s letters be directed to her. He looked at her with utter confusion when she asked.

“Whatever are you up to, Miss Crane?”

“Miles, you know you can call me Paige. We are friends, aren’t we?” She had a mischievous shine in her eye that told him she was up to something.

“I suppose… that doesn’t answer my question, Paige.” He said her name pointedly. She chuckled at him, he was hilarious. She knew she made the right choice keeping him employed.

“Friends trust each other. I promise I will tell you everything down the line.” She shot him a look of promise. That fixed the issue of being found out was solved easily. All she had to do now was enjoy the correspondence.

She still had not been able to break her habit of crying herself to sleep in Marina’s room every night, but these letters took her mind off the grief momentarily. She couldn’t thank Eloise Bridgerton enough for that. She read back Eloise’s response and grinned. Eloise was as charming and eloquent as always. She was clever enough to pick out Paige's interest in plants just by her rambles. Paige also noticed how Eloise was clever enough to end her letter with a question. What a sneaky lady, now Paige had to reply. Not that she was complaining. She was rather happy to have revived this old connection.

She pulled out her stationary and penned her reply. She stuck close to the truth while using Phillip's qualifications. Just because she wasn't allowed a formal education at Cambridge didn't make her any less knowledgeable than her twin. She devoured his textbooks during his University days. She most likely would have beat him to an honours degree in Botany had the fairer sex been allowed to study in Universities.

She followed Eloise's lead and ended her letter with a question as well. She vaguely remembered Eloise’s interest in humanities but she wanted it confirmed from the lady herself.

*

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

Indeed I am a botanist, trained at Cambridge, although I am not currently connected with any university or scientific board. I maintain my own garden at Romney Hall, in my greenhouse. Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours , Sir Phillip Crane

The reply came another week later. She smiled at being correct in her assumption. They started going back and forth every week, until a year had passed.

*

Dear Sir Phillip —

Heavens, no, I have not the scientific mind, I'm afraid, although I do have a fair head for sums. My interests lie more in the humanities; you may have noticed that I enjoy penning letters .

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

*

My dear Miss Bridgerton —

Ah, but it is a sort of friendship, isn't it? I confess to a certain measure of isolation here in the country, and if one cannot have a smiling face across one's breakfast table, then one might at least have an amiable letter, don't you agree?

I have enclosed another flower and a book for you. This flower is Centaurea cyanus, more commonly known as the cornflower. They are a personal favourite of mine, especially for its vibrance in colour. They are actually grown as a weed in cornfields, hence where it derives its common name from. Quite beautiful for a weed, wouldn’t you agree?

As for the book, I would like to share a piece of my literary heart with you. You will find a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in the package. I regard it as a brilliantly complex novel that tackles the existential questions of creating life in such an nuanced manner. I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

With great regard, Phillip Crane

*

Even though it was a friendly exchange of letters, Paige considered sharing her favourite flower and novel a way of elevating the friendship. They were a part of her identity. A part that she was willingly giving away to another to cherish and hold. It was a big step for her and that terrified her. She was scared of developing feelings for someone else. She could not bear to go through it again.

She knew no sane woman - despite being a child of Sappho - would give up the security of a husband and run off with another woman. Most of the sapphic women Paige knew were far too caught up in the social norms to ever step out of their comfort zone into a realm of possibilities of a free life with her. She knew she got lucky with Marina and that Phillip didn’t care enough for Marina to be bothered with their love affair. He also loved his sister enough to be happy with his wife, even if he didn’t understand how she could love a person who seemed to be made of sadness. Paige knew he never understood, but he didn’t have to. Marina and her understood each other and that’s all that truly mattered until the end.

While Eloise has never stated whether she felt that way about women, she did seem like a child of Sappho. The way she had interacted with potential suitors during that first season, or rather the way she didn’t. She hid away from every suitor that came her way. At times, she would pull Paige away to the lemonade table to avoid them, whenever Penelope was too busy dancing with Colin. The way she scoffed at marriage. She just seemed content in her independence. Paige had admired that about her.

*

As always her next letter did not disappoint:

Dear Sir Phillip —

Thank you for the book and flower, I truly appreciated them. I have always found sharing books recommendations with companions is like giving them a piece of yourself. So I thank you again, for gifting me a piece of yourself. I promise to cherish it.

And I have read Frankenstein before! It truly is one of its kind. I could go on for hours on end about how much I love this book and how brilliantly crafted it is. Perhaps, should we ever meet, we could discuss it over tea one day.

The cornflower was wonderful, thank you. I do love how it seems to shine a brighter blue in the sunlight. I think it might be my favourite flower as well.

Yours, Eloise Bridgerton.

A dreamy sigh escaped Paige’s lips as she drank in Eloise’s latest words. Paige had never felt more seen and understood. Eloise expressed the sentiment of Paige’s intent with the book and flower exactly. Paige might have used her brother’s name, but she knew in her heart Eloise knew her - even if it was not by her given name. She found the line about meeting and discussing the novel over tea, a rather bold choice. Was Eloise inviting her to tea?

She sighed when the sobering truth hit her. Eloise wasn’t inviting her. She was inviting her brother. She knew what she had to do - politely shut her down.

Dearest Miss Bridgerton —

You took the words right out of my quill. Those were my exact intentions when I thought of sending my favourite flower and book over to you. I am very much honoured that you cherish an important part of myself. I truly appreciate it. Truth be told, I appreciate you and our friendship.

Perhaps, one day. Tea does sound lovely.

What mischief have you been causing as of late? I am always excited to read your recounts of your daily adventures.

Yours as always, Phillip Crane. * Over the next few months simply flew by for Paige, the letters giving her a reprieve from her grief. They talked about anything and everything under the sun. She learned everything there is to know about Eloise Bridgerton. They exchanged childhood stories, more books between the two of them - Paige found out that Eloise’s guilty pleasure was Jane Austen’s romance novels - and held full conversations of various academic subjects. Her most prized possession was Eloise’s old copy of Persuasion filled with Eloise’s notes and thoughts on the book. Paige’s heart soared the moment she received it. It was Eloise’s version of giving Paige a piece of herself. She hadn’t read Persuasion before so she was glad for the recommendation. The botanist couldn’t help but laugh as she read the novel. Anne and Captain Wentworth’s story seemed to mirror hers. Their 7 year separation felt rather familiar to having not seen Eloise since their first season.

Before she knew it, a year had passed. She was startled when she saw the calendar on her desk when penning her latest letter to Eloise. 14th February 1824. It was the day Marina attempted to kill herself a year ago. Tomorrow would be a year since Marina’s last good day. And two days from now, on 17th February 1824, Paige would have to be met with the sobering reality of Marina’s death anniversary.

The holidays had been hard as it could be. The empty chair Marina had previously occupied was staring at Paige while her family carried on with their jovial Christmas dinner. She couldn’t understand how they could simply get on with their lives while she felt like a piece of her was missing. Yes, Marina was not much for festivities but sitting beside her and enjoying the food they cooked together was the highlight of Christmas. It was the only time Marina felt well enough to help Paige prepare the feast.

Marina’s birthday had been the hardest to deal with of course. She would have been twenty and eight then. Paige visits Marina's grave at least once a week. It calms and soothes her intense moments of grief. Sitting by the grave on Marina's birthday was a new kind of pain. Knowing that she was taken from the world far too early. Knowing that she should have been there right beside Paige. It was the hardest Paige had cried since Marina had died.

She had no idea how she was going to deal with her death anniversary.

She just knew she needed time to herself. She looked down at the letter she was going to write and found big splashes of tears all over the parchment.

"Blast it!" She cursed and crushed the paper, tossing it into a nearby bin. She was furious with herself for forgetting. For allowing herself to be happy when she didn’t deserve it. She wiped her tears angrily and quickly scribbled one last letter to Eloise.

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

These letters have brought me such comfort over a very difficult year. I cannot thank you enough for it, Eloise Bridgerton.

I do regret to inform you, I would like to pause these letters for the month. I require some time to process and mourn Marina's first death anniversary. I'm sure you can understand it will be a rather difficult time.

Thank you for understanding and do take care, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours, Phillip Crane

Paige could barely get through the letter without feeling guilty. Feeling guilty for abandoning Eloise so abruptly. Feeling guilty for using her as a distraction from her grief over Marina. Most of all, she hated how she can't seem to remember the smallest things about Marina. She was forgetting her love's memory and it was driving her mad. She tried her best to conjure up how she smelled, the sound of her voice, how she was. Paige found the little details escaping her. Memories slipping through her fingers. She detested this. She didn't know how she had gotten to this point.

She had allowed her corresponding flirtation with Eloise to soothe her pain. But her pain was the one thing she had left of Marina. Letting it go meant letting go of Marina. Paige absolutely refused to do that. If she forgot Marina, there was no one else to keep her memory alive. Phillip and the children certainly didn't care for it. Marina would be lost to history.

*

After delivering the letter to Miles to be mailed out, Paige found herself in Marina's room. She laid on her bed, aimlessly and feeling vacant. She was sure if someone walked in they might mistake her for Marina herself. Paige felt her melancholy creeping up her throat. It threatened to choke her, snuffing all the light out. She sat up and tried to breathe. She was feeling an unusual amount of panic rising within her.

She got out of bed and looked out the window. The lake was in perfect view. Of course, that’s where Marina had gotten the idea, She thought to herself bitterly. She looked up at the sky, imagining her lover was up there somewhere happier. Somewhere calmer, where she had found peace.

“I’m right where you left me, Rina.” She whispered softly. It had been a while since she spoke out loud to Marina but it had brought her so much comfort in the early days of dealing with the grief. For a moment, she could pretend Marina was still there. Then she didn’t have to deal with the all consuming guilt and loneliness that came with losing the love of her life.

Marina might have been the one who died but Paige felt like the ghost. Spending most of her days in Marina's room, sitting still in a corner, almost like she was the one haunting it. She heard what the staff said. Something along the lines of, "What a pitiful sight." And "She deserves better than to replace Lady Marina's disposition." They were valid in their concerns but Paige couldn't care less. This was the way she knew how to grieve and mourn and she'll be damned before she lets anyone dictate the way she feels.

Looking into the reflection of the lake from the window, she could still remember the day Marina walked into the lake. It was terrifying how crystal clear the memory was. It felt like she was frozen in time - forever cursed to be twenty and seven - forced to relive the last few days of Marina's days. The memory of her walking into the lake, Paige having to rescue her, staying by her side the next three days and the moment she died. They swirled around Paige's mind constantly. It was particularly worse since it had been a year.

She was paralysed, unable to find the will to do anything else. So she went back to bed. She sat there, silent and frozen in time. The servants walked past all day to ask her if she was alright. She barely managed a nod.

She swore she could hear a hair pin drop at how silent everything was. Deep down she knew her life stopped the moment Marina had died. Eloise's letters may have made her feel like she could move forward. However, the gaping hole in her heart today proved otherwise.

Everybody moved on. She couldn't. So she settled and stayed there, dust collecting on her pinned-up hair. She knew everyone expected her to find a new purpose or a fresh start. She could have tended to her own garden like Phillip was doing in his Greenhouse on this day.

Yet all she found the energy to do was sit and stare out at the lake. She stayed right there for the next two days. She just wanted the next worst few days of her life to pass her by so she would not have to deal with them. Just until the 17th had passed.

*

Of course as the saying goes, there is no rest for the wicked. All Paige wanted on the 17th of February was some peace but little did she know, a certain Bridgerton would be making their way to Romney Hall.

It started out like any other day. Except for the Crane household, there was a somber remembrance of Marina’s first death anniversary. Paige was relieved that she didn’t have to share the burden alone and that her brother had the decency to acknowledge it. He didn’t bother reminding the children but they were young so she let it slide.

Since the staff had honoured her request of being left alone, around noon Paige dragged herself out of bed to get herself some lunch. Marina would have wanted her to mourn respectfully, not join her up wherever she may be. Paige was on her way back to her room after picking up her meal of roasted mutton with rice and gravy - Marina’s favourite dish - when she overheard a curious conversation between Gunning and her brother.

"Sir Phillip," Gunning said, clearing his throat. "We have a caller." "A caller?" Phillip echoed. "Was that the source of the, ah..." "Noise?" Gunning supplied helpfully. "Yes." "No." The butler cleared his throat. "That would have been your children." "I see," Phillip murmured. "How silly of me to have hoped otherwise." "I don't believe they broke anything, sir." "That's a relief and a change." "Indeed, sir, but there is the caller to consider."

Phillip groaned and Paige immediately knew what he was thinking. Romney Hall hadn’t received callers in years. He was probably wondering who on earth would be calling on this day of all days. Paige didn’t think much of it until she passed the front door on her way up to her room when she spotted a familiar face on the other side of the door.

Eloise Bridgerton.

What in the devil was she doing here?! Paige mentally screamed to herself. Gunning and Phillip’s conversation had faded to the background, drowned out by the mental grind of Paige’s mind. She snapped out of her melancholy and had to come up with a way to cover up the consequences of her actions. Just when she needed it, Miles walked past her. She immediately grabbed him. He looked surprised and a little violated if you asked him.

“Miss Crane! What on earth?” “Miles, how many times must I repeat myself? Paige is perfectly fine. I apologise for grabbing you, I am in need of your service.” She said guiltily, looking over at the front door.

He gave her a curious look, “What did you do now, Paige?” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

She shot him a glare, “I would snap at you for that but you are quite right to ask. I think one of my letters to Miss Bridgerton might have been misinterpreted as an invitation to come over to Romney Hall.” She gave him such a pitiful pleading look, he had to help her.

“How can I be of service, Miss - Paige?” He corrected himself the moment Paige shot him a murderous look. “I need a plan. If the truth comes out, neither of them will forgive me.”

Miles had never seen her so panicked and scared before. For someone who detests her brother, she really did love him. Her blooming feelings for Miss Bridgerton had become apparent over the last few months. He gave himself a moment to think of a plan.

"Yes, sir. She's here to see you, after all." They both heard Gunning say to Phillip.

Paige looked at Miles with wide eyes. They had officially run out of time. This was sealed by the sounds of Phillip’s footsteps making their way to the corridor Paige and Miles were hatching a plan in. Before Paige could push Miles to distract him, her dear brother had brushed past them and opened the door. She cursed to herself and watched helplessly as the two strangers who had technically never met interacted. She made her way to stand quietly behind her brother, listening to every word. Paige's heart nearly stopped when she heard Eloise's voice after all these years.

"Sir Phillip?"

[robins-treasure]

Captain Barbossa??

Favorite Thing About Them: Geoffrey Rush is PERFECT as Barbossa. I love his acting in all five movies. It is just amazing! He totally deserved winning an Oscar! (Even though he won for his role in Shine and was nominated for his roles in The King’s Speech, Quills, and Shakespeare in Love, not Pirates! XD) His relationship with Jack Sparrow is great and I love his leadership skills. (I think he’s better in that part than Jack was, though I will say that the Pearl will always belong to him, not Barbossa! And besides, he has the Queen Anne’s Revenge! XD) And I really like the development he as on each movie. He went from a villain in Curse of the Black Pearl, to an antihero in At World’s End and On Stranger Tides, and to a hero in Dead Men Tell No Tales. Also, let’s not forget that he has a HUGE love for green apples and an AWESOME monkey sidekick who he named after Sparrow!

Least Favorite Thing About Them: It’s not a huge flaw, but I wish he had a bit more screen time on the fourth movie, On Stranger Tides. His story arc on that movie was very interesting and I wanted to learn a little bit more on that part instead of the love story with Phillip and Syrena.

Favorite Line: He has so many great quotes, but this one will always be my favorite.

BROTP: I love seeing him with Jack Sparrow. (Who doesn’t? XD)

OTP: I guess I ship him with Margaret Smyth? (Even though she was only mentioned… If there’s ever a spin off with Barbossa that takes place before Carina was born, I would like to see what their relationship was like)

NOTP: Him and Elizabeth together as a couple? Heck no! He nearly killed her on the first movie and he was sort of a mentor figure towards her in the third movie. I do like their interactions together, but I don’t ship them romantically.

Random headcanon: He would knit outfits for Jack the monkey. (IDK… I’m not good at making headcanons. XD)

Unpopular Opinion: I actually liked his outfits on the fourth and fifth movies. I didn’t like the wig he wore on the beginning of the fourth movie, but I actually had no problem with the wig on the fifth movie.)

Song I Associate With Them: Nobody Praying For Me by Seether

Favorite Picture Of Them: This one because they look so precious!

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 3 June 2019

Quick Bits:

Batman #72 essentially gives a bit of recontextualization for what has been going on during the series, giving a summation of events, in this third part of “The Fall and the Fallen” from Tom King, Mikel Janín, Jorge Fornés, Jordie Bellaire, and Clayton Cowles. It’s all right, with some glorious artwork as always, but it kind of feels like we’re treading water here.

| Published by DC Comics

Bettie Page: Unbound #1 builds on what’s come before and the magic of her unicursal hexagram pendant, but you needn’t have read anything previously as this first issue does a good job of weaving in the relevant information to inform this adventure. I quite like what David Avallone, Julius Ohta, Ellie Wright, Sheelagh D, and Taylor Esposito have been doing long term with Bettie Page and this is another fun start to the next chapter, blending Lovecraftian horror with a jaunt through pastiches of Dynamite’s current properties.

| Published by Dynamite

Birthright #36 returns from the trade break with the start of the next stage in dealing with the weakening walls between realms and what terrible things may happen as magic keeps building up on the threshold of our world. The artwork from Andrei Bressan and Adriano Lucas remains absolutely stellar as they, Joshua Williamson, and Pat Brosseau continue one of the best fantasy adventure series that strangely keeps flying under the radar.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Black Cat #1 is a highly entertaining debut, leaning hard into history and heists, with three tales spotlighting the Black Cat and the Black Fox. Jed MacKay pens two of the tales, one in the present illustrated by Travel Foreman, one in the past by Mike Dowling, both coloured and lettered respectively by Brian Reber and Ferran Delgado, that play stylistically off one another as they build up the respective crews and show them in action. There’s also a very cute two-page heist with cats by Nao Fuji.

| Published by Marvel

Buffy the Vampire Slayer #5 begins a long dark night for Xander’s soul as he’s struggling with overcoming the demon trying to take control as a vampire. Great bits building what he means to Buffy and Willow. David López takes over line art duties here, and it’s definitely a change, darker and scratchier than what’s come before, but it suits the raw emotion of the story.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Captain Marvel #6 begins a tie-in to War of the Realms with Carol and Natasha trying to find Doctor Strange in South America. It’s a fun start to this story from Kelly Thompson, Annapaola Martello, Tamra Bonvillain, and Clayton Cowles with a Freaky Friday twist as they try to stop Enchantress.

| Published by Marvel

Criminal #5 begins “Cruel Summer”, which Ed Brubaker promises to possibly be the longest arc yet, kicking off an investigation into a woman running from an abusive affair. Brubaker, Sean Phillips, and Jacob Phillips give us an intriguing start to this arc through a sad sack private investigator in Dan Farraday 

| Published by Image

DCeased #2 continues the destruction of the DC Universe through a “not zombie” zombie plague. Tom Taylor, Trevor Hairsine, Stefano Gaudiano, Rain Beredo, and Saida Temofonte are telling a great horror story here, with some big casualties wiped off the board pretty quickly.

| Published by DC Comics

Deadpool #13 is another War of the Realms tie-in, dropping Deadpool into Australia to tackle Ulik and his trolls. It’s a decent start from Skottie Young, Nic Klein, and Jeff Eckleberry with some funny Wade/Blind Al moments and Wade trying to convince the Australian heroes of his worth as an Avenger.

| Published by Marvel

Deathstroke #44 is part one of “RIP”, with Priest, Fernando Pasarin, Ryan Winn, Jeromy Cox, and Willie Schubert kicking it off with Slade’s funeral. Some interesting bits of possibility as to who might pick up the Deathstroke mantle.

| Published by DC Comics

Descendent #2 continues this conspiracy-laden thriller from Stephanie Phillips, Evgeniy Bornyakov, Lauren Affe, and Troy Peteri. This one’s a bit heavy on the shadowy organization being shadowy and light on explanation, but there are still some entertaining character moments.

| Published by AfterShock

Eclipse #16 brings this series from Zack Kaplan, Giovanni Timpano, Flavio Dispenza, and Troy Peteri to a close. I find it kind of funny that the reason for the solar activity and underlying state of the world aren’t answered, but that’s been part of the through line of this final arc, focusing more on the characters and the heart that keeps people going.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

Fallen World #2 continues this wonderful exploration of the new state of 4002 AD by Dan Abnett, Adam Pollina, Ulises Arreola, and Jeff Powell. The threat of Father-possessed Bloodshot in horrifying and the future is looking pretty bleak. Also, I think this is some of the best artwork I have ever seen from Adam Pollina. He’s really giving it his all for this series and it shines through on the page.

| Published by Valiant

Giant Days #51 deals with the fallout of McGraw’s loss as we head towards the end of the series. The shift in behaviour for Esther to more responsibility and adult attitudes also seems to be a sign that John Allison is giving us that the end is near.

| Published by Boom Entertainment / BOOM! Box

The Green Lantern #8 is one of the weirdest Green Lantern/Green Arrow team-ups you’re going to come across. With awesome demons from Liam Sharp.

| Published by DC Comics

Guardians of the Galaxy Annual #1 gives us a trio of tales and a framing story, focusing on the other heroes who were sucked into oblivion in the first issue, and where some of them have ended up now. Great work from all of the creators involved and hope to see them usher more stories of the characters.

| Published by Marvel

Incredible Hulk: Last Call #1 is another of the 80th Anniversary specials, this time reuniting the classic Hulk team of Peter David and Dale Keown for this one-shot. It’s an interesting tale of Bruce wanting to kill himself and an old co-worker of Betty’s trying to talk him out of it.

| Published by Marvel

Justice League #25 concludes “The Sixth Dimension” from Scott Snyder, Jorge Jimenez, Alejandro Sánchez, and Tom Napolitano. Gorgeous art as always, and an interesting bit of the League being more than the sum of their parts to choose a different way. There’s also a prelude for the “Year of the Villain” even from James Tynion IV, Javier Fernandez, Hi-Fi, and Napolitano and it’s a little grim. While they were gone, the world has been doomed.

| Published by DC Comics

Meet the Skrulls #5 brings this excellent series to a close, with hints of something even bigger than a Skrull invasion lurking within the Marvel Universe. Robbie Thompson, Niko Henrichon, Laurent Grossat, and Travis Lanham have provided a taut thriller through this series, but also shown that the tightest bonds in the field are really with your family.

| Published by Marvel

Savage Avengers #2 continues slowly bringing together the team in the Savage Land, along with revealing the long time Conan villain pulling the strings. It’s bloody, violent, and great. Mike Deodato Jr. and Frank Martin are making this look gorgeous.

| Published by Marvel

Stronghold #4 goes in some very interesting directions as Michael and Claire escape from the Stronghold’s clutches and go searching for the Apostate. Some absolutely marvellous artwork from Ryan Kelly and Dee Cunniffe, with some great repeated variations on layouts as Michael cycles through different lifetimes.

| Published by AfterShock

Uncanny X-Men #19 catches us up with what’s been going on with Emma Frost since her X-Men: Black story across Astonishing X-Men and the beginning of this series, and, well, it’s also bleak. And there’s more death. Also a reminder that the Vanisher’s name is Telford Porter. TELFORD PORTER.

| Published by Marvel

War of the Realms #5 is kind of a mess of pieces, I don’t recommend anyone trying to reconcile appearances and locations in this book with any of the tie-ins, but on its own, it’s one hell of a gathering storm for the finale. Russell Dauterman and Matthew Wilson are unparalleled here with the artwork. It’s drop dead gorgeous.

| Published by Marvel

Witchblade #14 slips back to the present to deal with what happens after Alex and co. get ported off to the future. I love how Caitlin Kittredge, Roberta Ingranata, Bryan Valenza, and Troy Peteri are presenting this, rather than just leaving us confused in the future.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

Young Justice #6 concludes “Seven Crises” with some answers, kind of, but not any particularly satisfying ones, more just a bunch of hand waving. Which is not to say this isn’t good, Brian Michael Bendis, John Timms, Gabe Eltaeb, and Wes Abbott deliver a very entertaining excursion into Gemworld, with some funny moments and great action. It’s just that the questions about how and why any of this is happening or who these versions of the characters are and out of which continuity remain.

| Published by DC Comics / Wonder Comics

Other Highlights: Age of X-Man: Prisoner X #4, Batman/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III #2, Beasts of Burden: Presence of Others #2, Black Hammer ‘45 #4, Dead Man Logan #8, Domino: Hotshots #4, The Dreaming #10, Elvira: The Shape of Elvira #3, Female Furies #5, Hashtag Danger #2, Hotel Dare, Jim Henson’s Beneath the Dark Crystal #10, Jughead: The Hunger vs. Vampironica #2, Marvel Action: Avengers #5, Marvel Team-Up #3, Noble #18, Old Man Quill #6, Paper Girls #29, Red Sonja #5, Ronin Island #4, Section Zero #3, Shadow Roads #8, Sharkey: The Bounty Hunter #4, Six Million Dollar Man #4, Spider-Gwen: Ghost Spider #9, Star Wars: Age of Rebellion - Luke Skywalker #1, Star Wars Adventures #22, Thumbs #1, Tony Stark: Iron Man #12, Vampirella: Roses for the Dead #4, Volition #6, War of the Realms: Journey into Mystery #4, War of the Realms: New Agents of Atlas #3

Recommended Collections: Avengers - Volume 3: War of the Vampires, Captain Ginger - Volume 1, Cemetery Beach, Cloak & Dagger: Agony & Ecstasy, Die - Volume 1: Fantasy Heartbreaker, The Dreaming - Volume 1: Pathways & Emanations, Hack/Slash Omnibus - Volume 6, Impossible Incorporated, Maxwell’s Demons - Volume 1, Mind MGMT Omnibus - Volume 2, Mirror: The Nest, Solo: A Star Wars Story, Star Wars Adventures: Destroyer Down, The Thrilling Adventure Hour - Volume 2: Residence Evil

d. emerson eddy is all thumbs.

[lightningcrown]

My top 10 Marvel Cinematic Universe couples. Trust me, there’s a lot more, because I pretty much ship anything; but these are the main ones I ship. Yeah...I was tied between Valki and Hulkyrie, and realized I liked both for Valkyrie. So Valki is now an Honorable Mention while #4 is now replaced by Fitzsimmons.

Yeah, I don’t regret a fucking thing.

A couple warnings though. Firstly, there are spoilers to the character's respective shows/films in the meme’s description, so just a heads up. Infinity War spoilers, too. Second, I have either not seen or not finished the shows The Defenders, Jessica Jones, Daredevil, and Iron Fist, also Cloak and Daggar isn’t finished, so I can’t put Ty/Tandy on the list just yet (Honestly, Tandy is just a bitch at this point in the show).  As I finish the shows, I’ll move the couples around or add/remove them. And third, but most important without a doubt, this is my list, as in my personal opinion. I will not trash you for your ships if you do not trash mine. Ship and let ship.

Okay, let’s begin.

~Honorable Mention~ Valki -  Not canon...I think...seriously, Tessa Thompson has hinted that these two are in a...somewhat relationship? Like the other couples, I think these two would be good for each other. I mean, come on, Loki needs a partner to smack some sense into him every once in a while. I think they’d work in a unique way. A real power couple. I seriously might change this to a better couple, but I’m not sure. All I know is that I like this ship….but I like #3 more.

Alright, now onto the top 10.

#10 - Victor “Chase” Stein and Gertrude Yorkes -  When I found out that the Runaways were going to be adapted into the MCU, I got super excited! I love the comics, and I couldn’t wait to see how the show was going to turn out. I was satisfied with most things, including the romance between Chase and Gert. Their romance in the comics was/is beautiful and sad, so I couldn’t wait to see it. Gert and Chase are polar opposites in a charming way, with Chase originally being shown as a stuck up jock and Gert as a tumblr fueled activist, but they seem to bring their true selves out by being love struck and oblivious dorks. It’s so cute when they finally wake up, like ‘Oh shit, the one I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time’ kinda wake up. They’re the kind of characters you just can’t picture with anyone else, the just work that well together. They’re the only couple in the show I love at the moment. Yes, I hate Deanoru. Come get me.

#9 - Robbie Reyes and Daisy Johnson -  While they’re not official, I can’t help but imagine how they’d look as a couple. By the time they meet in season 4, Daisy has lost too many people, and she has too many regrets and too much grief. She desperately wants to make it right, and is afraid to let people get close because it always ends with either her or them getting hurt. Her parents, the agents that died to save her as a child, the breakout of the inhumans due to her sending the terrigen crystals into the ocean, and finally, her boyfriend’s death. Going by the codename Quake, she uses her powers to try and make up for what she believes is all her fault. Robbie is a man trying to make up for getting into gang trouble, which resulted in his brother being paralyzed from the waist down in a deliberate crash meant to kill Robbie. After he is possessed by the Spirit of Vengeance and becomes known as Ghost Rider, he takes to the streets at night, killing gang members and slowly cleaning up the city of people that the Spirit of Vengeance deems guilty and unworthy of life. Their paths cross, and while they don’t start off on a good note, the two eventually team up to connect the dots in front of them. They’re so alike, and I believe that they would be good for one another. It’s her meeting Robbie that kinda snaps her out of the daze she’s in, and it’s ultimately each other that heals the other and gets them out of their rut. It’s a shame, because I know they’ll never be official, but I love them, and I will continue to ship them despite of that.

#8 - Peter Quill and Gamora -  If you’ve seen the films, I think you know why I don’t even need to explain these two…but I will a bit anyways. He’s goofy and carefree, but knows when to be mature, and she’s been trained her whole life to be a weapon, and is just now being able to finally have the family she’s always wanted, with Quill being someone who’s helping her realize she’s more than a monster. Avengers Infinity War broke my heart. When the two kissed, their relationship being established between Guardian’s Vol. 2 and Infinity War, I was so happy...until Gamora told Quill to kill her if Thanos ever got his hands on her. Sadly, it happened, but Thanos used the reality stone to keep it from happening. When Quill later learns that Thanos murdered Gamora to gain the Soul Stone...his cry of despair and grief as Tony tried to hold him back broke my heart. I think he was perfectly justified in flipping out like he did. They’re just another one of those couples that are a perfect example of soulmates, and I hope they are reunited.

#7 - Phillip Coulson and Melinda May -  These two are like FitzSimmons, always together. They have each other’s back, and they support each other in almost everything they do. They’re like the mom and dad of the group. And while they do fight, it’s in a very...married couple sort of way. I don’t think there’s ever been a better team up in S.H.I.E.L.D. history since them, and I’m glad their relationship isn’t rushed. Once they officially got together, it was easy to see that it was slowly building the whole time, even if it wasn’t too noticeable at first.

#6 - Vision and Wanda Maximoff -  Their relationship is so much like teenagers flirting, just in an...adult way? Maybe that was a bit confusing, but my point is, these two are adorable. Another couple that managed to stomp on my heart in Infinity War. Turns out, after Captain America Civil War, Wanda and Vision became an official couple and began to travel the world. Their relationship is pure and innocent love. Nothing dirty, no sex jokes, just...they’re so in love; you can see it whenever they’re in the presence of the other. Seriously, it’s like they’re looking at the whole world when they’re looking at the other. Cheesy, but it fits. In Infinity War, Wanda is the one who has to destroy the mind stone in Vision’s forehead, despite it still being a part of him. She doesn’t want to, but he tells her that she must “It shouldn’t be you, but it is.” And she’s, understandably, upset, so Vision comforts her with some of the most romantic words I’ve ever heard in the MCU “It's alright. You could never hurt me. I just feel you.” He knows that he’s about to die...yet he’s doing his damndest to make sure she’s comforted. And sadly, she uses her powers to destroy the stone and kill him…until Thanos uses the Time Stone to rewind time, revive Vision, then rip the Mind Stone out of his head, killing him in front of Wanda for a second time! I...I just want these two to be happy.

#5 - Tony Stark and Pepper Potts -  Just...watch any movie with these characters, and you’ll know exactly why I put them on this list. I can’t really anything else other than that they’re perfect for each other; and in my opinion, I don’t believe either character could ever work in a relationship with a different person. These two are the best canon couple in the MCU, hands down.

#4 - Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons -  These two are literally two halves of a whole. Where one struggles, the other supports and the two succeed. Hell, people in the show don't even refer to them as individuals, they're called FitzSimmons. Seriously, these two had a canon ship name from the beginning, the other characters thought they were a perfect match. If soul mates are a thing, these two are definitely it. These two characters have been through so much in the first 4 seasons, and when they finally got together in season 3 after the massive cliffhanger in season 2; I cheered. Ever since, the two have continued to be a model of relationship goals. Fitz has put his life on the line several times in order to protect and rescue Simmons, literally jumping through an alien portal to find her on the other side of the universe. Simmons is no different. She suffered through a computer world that showed her death and made Fitz hate her, yet she managed to get through to him and save him. I haven't seen season 5 yet, but I do know that the two of them get married, and let me just say....it's about damn time!

#3 - Bruce Banner/Hulk and Valkyrie -  These two...need to be canon. I’m sorry (Pfft, no I’m not), but I...I really despise Bruce/Natasha. Their interactions feel so forced...it’s just awful! But these two? It’s so natural and amazing! Hulk and Valkyrie have known each other for couple years by the time Thor Ragnarok rolls around, and they’re so playful! Hulk doesn’t hate her, he smiles at her, and whenever she’s called to his room, she becomes happy and the two playfully spar and even have nicknames for each other. And once Bruce returns from being Hulk, he and Valkyrie immediately go “Do I know you? I feel like I know you!” And they get along perfectly from there. Seriously, when Bruce sees Valkyrie for the first time, he’s in complete awe! He notices the markings around her eyes and asks Thor about them, describing them and her as “beautiful and strong”. Seriously, in this one movie, Hulk/Valkyrie was shown to be more natural and smooth than Bruce/Natasha. These two would be in the category of being friends first and then a couple later on. The Hulk likes her, Bruce likes her, and neither have a problem with her, and she doesn’t have the problem with either of them. It works out. Also, in the first few movies where Bruce is shown…he’s always forced to become the Hulk by someone, but in Thor: Ragnarok, Bruce changes into the Hulk willingly. I can’t help but think that Valkyrie’s acceptance of both personalities might have had a small hand in it. Oh well, I’m stupid, moving on.

#2 - Peter Parker and Molly Hernandez -  A crack ship I made, but a cute one. Peter is Spiderman in the MCU, obviously, while Molly is a character in Marvel’s Runaways, being Gert’s adopted sister with Hulk-like strength. Both of these characters are young people swept up in horrible situations, and learning to cope with powers, abilities, and responsibilities they didn’t have before. I think it would be cute and emotional for the two of them to bond over their shared experiences. I’ve got so many story ideas for this cute pair. Also, I just...don’t like Michelle that much. I don’t know why, she just seems so...ugh, I’m gonna get hate for this, but I don’t like how they dealt with her in the movie. Also, now that I think about it, I’ve never really liked MJ in any Spiderman film, so...yeah. Anyways, I think Peter and Molly would be adorable together. Moving on.

#1 - James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes and Princess Shuri - My OTP in the MCU...and I don’t regret a fucking thing for shipping it. Shuri is canonly the one who gets all of HYDRA’s programming out of his head, built him his new arm, and taught him about Wakanda in the MCU...and I can’t help but love that there’s finally another person for Bucky to be close with that isn’t Steve. I love their friendship, but I’m happy that Bucky is finally free from HYDRA and can finally depend on an befriend other people; expand a little. The little after credits scene at the end of Black Panther had me squealing and imagining all the scenarios for their relationship. I went back and saw it a second time to see that scene again (I also saw it a second time because that movie was fucking awesome, but seeing the scene again was good^^!). Shuri is officially my favorite female character in the MCU. Also, fun fact, me mentioning that I like this ship had given me so much shit on here. I’ve been called a pedophile, a pedophilic enabler, and a stucky fan once told me to kill myself...it’s fucking hilarious. I’ve never been in a fandom shipping war before, so it was an amazing anf funny experience XD I love these two so much, and no 12 year old on tumblr is going to change my mind. These two, I could see their relationship developing over time and it’s just...I would love to see these two develop together.

[quietmillennial]

More Elams Headcannons

Alex hides Red Bulls in his sock drawer.

John hides his weed and George Dickel (the statistics say this is a South Carolinian gentleman’s favorite drink) in the top cabinet in the bathroom.

Eliza hides cheap red Solo shot glasses and vodka in her car.

John’s kids: Frances, Phillip, James, John Jr., and Peter (Phillip II)

Alex’s kids: Angelica, Alexander Jr., William, and Eliza Jr.

Alex goes by Papi, then Pops while John is Dad or Daddy

Eliza is an English college professor, securing her degree after Alex Jr. is born.

Alex is a reporter, and later co-anchor with Jefferson on MSNBC.

John is an activist that cooperates with the city to organize events. He’s a personal trainer on the side.

John will carry Alex upstairs to bed if he’s not done by two in the morning.

Alex is very paranoid of this and has sought shelter in the closet.

Stormy days are Netflix and CuddleTM days in the Hamilton-Laurens household.

Eliza is always in the middle. She is very insistent on this.

John has a roll of duct tape in his satchel or coat when he goes out anywhere with Alex without Eliza.

Alex is determined to cause property damage every time Thomas and Angelica throw a party.

Angelica has run him out with a broom.

Drunk College White Child Eliza was Scary Eliza.

She curb stomped a bitch junior year of her bachelor’s.

The bitch called John a faggot and Alex a wetback.

John put Charles Lee in the hospital for calling Alex a whore.

Alexander publicly humiliated a handful of people for trying to force Eliza into a really bad situation at a party.

It was in the school newspaper and they got expelled.

The three of them each where two wedding rings on top of each other.

Their kids all knew English, Spanish, and a few Russian phrases, by the time they were like five.

Alex cusses in Spanish when his kids are around.

Alex is Puerto Rican and Scottish.

Eliza is Thai and Russian.

John is Irish and African.

Their kids are also pretty diverse in their sexualities.

Eliza rubs Alex’s hands with lotion and oils to ease them after he’s written or typed for a while.

Alex becomes Eliza servant when she’s pregnant or having a really bad period. He waits on her hand and foot.

Eliza took an online masseuse class, so that she knew what to do for John when he hurt or injured himself.

John will take Eliza out of the house with a pack of cigarettes and a joint when she’s seriously stressed out and let her rant for a while, where as she’d get into an argument with Alexander on accident.

Alex makes sure John feels secure in the relationship always because he knows that John sometimes feels like third wheel, and he doesn’t want that.

John and Alex went to Iraq. A lot of what happened weighs on Alex and John will often make sure he feels secure before he goes to sleep so that he doesn’t have one of his infamous nightmares.

Eliza has a lullaby for every one of her children, not self-written, but a song that makes her think of each child.

John has been to every extracurricular known to man, because he was often the least busy and is a professional Soccer Mom.

Alexander writes cheesy poems for every member of his family and his children secretly love them but complain about it all the time.

Everyone’s scared when Eliza gets passive aggressive. They know she’s done with the shit.

Someone’s hurt Alex’s feelings when he stops talking. Everyone gets worried.

When John is openly critical and an asshole, you need to leave him alone.

Eliza has a turtle and a quill tattoo for her husbands.

Alexander has a turtle and a pair of angel wings for his husband and wife. He has an unrelated Nevis flag tattoo.

John has a quill and a pair of angel wings for his husband and wife. He has several unrelated tattoos, including the names of all nine children on his ribs and a very well thought out turtle tramp stamp.

They have giant ass bed that can fit three adults and however many children that are required at the time.

[accio-ambition]

Spoiler alert: they all live happily ever after. :) I figure it's the least I could do.

For the final time, thanks to @queen-icicle-fandom, shipsxahoy, sotheylived, and @captainswanbigbang for everything you all have done during this process. You guys are amazing. I've added a few special thank you'd to the end of the chapter, if you care to read them. And to you, who's either been here since the beginning or jumped in along the way: thanks for sticking with it.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset/Manip

Epilogue

It’s takes a while to convince Killian to get back on a ship, even when it’s docked.

But when he does on an oddly warm day in February, Emma makes sure to reward him.

The sun is setting - another banner day in Killian’s long journey of recovery - on this Friday evening. Henry’s off at a sleepover with Phillip, so it’s just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company on the ship that brought them together. Thanks to profits from the show and donations from fans and community members, the Jolly Roger II is just as sturdy as its predecessor. The little marks and stories the old ship held aren’t there, of course, but the thought behind it is wondrous. Killian still hasn’t had the courage to take it out for a spin, but Mulan and Robin assured her it ran just as well as the first one. And when Emma remembers that Liam wanted to rebuild the Jewel before his death, she finds some sort of closure in the circle life has drawn around the Jones brothers.

She loves it. The JRII makes Killian so happy and she adores that. She loves him, almost as much as she loves this town. For the first time ever, she can’t leave something like this behind. She’s known what she’s going to tell him for a while. In all honesty, there was never really a question as to whether it would happen. It was just a matter of when once Emma realized that Storybrooke was home.

“We’re staying here,” she says softly, leaning up against the Roger’s railing and trying not to show how much excitement lies under her skin.

“What?” Killian asks, utterly stunned. “But you said...Henry…” Emma nods, encouraging him to at least finish a sentence. His hand runs through his hair and he’s breathing in little pants of disbelief.  He points at her. “You said you’d go where there’s a job. A constant paycheck so you can care for the lad.”

She shrugs casually. “I’ll find a job,” she says. “I’ll ask the station to give me my job back.” Turning away from the warm colors that come from sunset, Emma looks Killian straight in the eye. There’s something so earnest in his gaze that he solidifies her decision, even if she struggles through putting her feelings into words. “I haven’t had a home in so long and when we moved here, I thought it was another stepping stone.” She shrugs a little and leans into him. “I didn’t realize it was the end of the path.”

“Emma.” He says her name as a question and an answer, a threat and a compliment. Killian leans into her, but doesn’t move any closer or show any intention of touching her.

So she does, taking his hand in both of hers as she scoffs. “Look, you know I’m a woman of action over words. So here’s me taking action.” Emphasising her point, she shakes their entwined hands. “You need me and Henry.” Killian chuckles, because they both know that, while what she’s said is true, there's so much more to it. “Henry needs you.” He gives her another look - smouldering eyes and the hint of a smirk on his lips - that makes her rolls her eyes. “I need you in my life,” she admits on a sigh.

“What happened to this –” he lets go and points to her, his hand waving about to encompass her body entirely, “and that –” he gestures to himself, smirking, “never gonna happen?”

Emma shrugs. “I’m like the ocean. One simple breeze and I can change my mind.”

“I don’t know whether to find that comforting or unnerving.”

Her laughter causes her to fall comfortably into his arms and Killian easily pulls her into his chest. “Yeah, I heard it too,” she says, sighing and relaxing into his embrace. “I run the camera, buddy, I can’t pull eloquent metaphors out of thin air like some people.”

She can feel his wide smile when he presses a kiss into her hair. “They worked on you, didn’t they love?”

“Don’t be so smug,” she scoffs, pulling back from his embrace to fully see his face.

That ridiculous grin is still there, growing wider by the second, if that’s even possible. He’s got mischief in his eyes. “Not smug, darling,” he corrects her. “Victorious, perhaps, but not smug.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Aye,” he says dreamily. Killian’s hand comes up to brush at the few strands of hair a breeze has blown into her face. His fingers trail over her cheekbone and around behind her ear, where he lets the tips of his fingers trail down her neck. It’s loving, his movements, and it reflects the same emotion in his gaze and his soft smile. “And you love me for it, don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer him right away. Instead, she sends him one of his signature smirks and looks back out over the water. Let him stew in my unanswer, she thinks. He knows her well enough by now. Better than anyone ever, she thinks.

He knows.

@sotheylived: Steph, you are a godsend. From the moment you hopped in to the Google doc, you were encouraging and helpful and such a pleasure. I looked forward to getting your edits, which is not something I ever thought would happen. This story would not exist without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

@shipsxahoy: My goodness, I've never met someone as enthusiastic about fic art as you, Bianca. Heart of gold. The vivacity you had for this story was incredible and I doubt I'll Internet-meet someone like you ever again. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

@the-corsair-and-her-quill: To the only person besides my beta who knew what was gonna happen from start to finish. To the person I immediately texted when I finally understood how awesome angst is. This is my way of telling you the story is finally finished, so you can catch up now. I'll be sending you oneshots to beta shortly 😉

[theoneloneblogger]

Retrospective Rumours Part Six: The Holy Kingdom

Perry’s Retrospective Rumors: Part Six - The Holy Kingdom

 Note: Some of the following is a fictional and romanticized version of true accounts and should not be held to historical scrutiny.

 It’s a funny thing, devotion. those who draw their belief in the physical world find power in the certainty of this. People such as the Swedenborg and Mesmer developed the system we now know as spiritualism in the mid-17th century. The assertion therefore in the absolute divinity of a single King these days meets with that of ludicrous condemnation and disgust.  Though towards the late 19th century others like Carl Jung and Durkheim, a psychologist and sociologist respectively, laboured long to try to convince people that the world should be viewed from a purely scientific basis. For instance, such scholarship as has been seen recently as luminaries bustle for recognition against each other.

  Thomas Moore, just before his execution on grounds of treason wrote to his daughter of his reservations on the divinity of a single King. “I staunchly refuse to pledge any oath to her authority. Nor indeed to recognize the so called divine right of King Henry himself to hold the throne in such a fashion. His split from Rome is blasphemous at best and devilry at worst. As a consequence of such I must die tomorrow.  Though I consider myself innocent of the crimes of which I have been accused it is the judgment of my King and therefore God that I die upon Tower Hill. Be true to your King despite his insistence on being the supreme head of a new English Church. I love you both with all my heart.” Such were the last words of a man who looked a self-appointed God in the face and told him to go to hell.

  There are a number of the population that still do see the Royal Family as an institution of adoration even in 2018. This despite the assertion that they bring in much needed revenues in tourism having been debunked this outlook is still maintained. Brand Finance seems to recon that the Royal Family's net worth to the economy is approximately £1.155 billion in 2018.

The flow of velvet and gold created a swishing and sweeping air of authoritive tumult Thomas strode across the cell in the turret of the Tower. With a deep sigh at his impending inevitability he drew up his strength and seated himself on the stool by the slight window. Allowed to draw up a final note to his children. It was the 6th of July 1535 and Thomas Moore took up his quill and rested the parchment on the alcove before him; a little unsteadily he began to write the previous note.  

 Of course we don‘t have to worry about being decapitated if we worship the wrong deity today so that’s a bonus. August 2017 and Prince Phillip, Duke of Edenborough bowed out of public duties as he decided to end his official obligations to our crown. At 96 and sporting a bowler hat and raincoat he felt it necessary to mark the occasion by signing out at Buckingham palace to a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”. Interesting.

 Further this contribution is scowled upon by the anti-Royalists of the nation as it presents a disparagement between the amount it costs to maintain them. It is estimated that Sovereign Grant, security and maintenance of palaces, are netted off against sources of income including the uplift to the tourism, all generated by the Crown Estate. Basically there not worth the bother in some quarters of our great nation. This might be true. Though what would we become without our national identity? Some might say we’d be phenomenally better off. Financially speaking they’d be right.

  Even the much vaunted theories of inbreeding, treason and paedophilia are not enough to deter many from advocating a system of absolute Monarchic Meritocracy. Faith is the answer I think. Faith and hope. These two underestimated truths, excestencial or not, are the fundamental basis upon which all life is founded. We all have faith and are religious about something whether we like it or not. It is possible to be religious about not being religious for example. Very cold attitude but then the ways in which human relations within grief have evolved are cold. The other side of the equation is just as irrational as the practical. Wouldn’t it be nice to be certain of your place in life?

  Much has been written and theorised on theories of the existence of what we call the afterlife; great scholars and thinkers have scribbled late into the evening and night to illuminate the subject. While both scholars and thinkers are very much of the same mind on some topics they can be drawn into two distinct categories on others. For example, such thinkers tend to be academics of a varied sort who labour to distinguish life as a functional and distinct plain in which matter interacts with its brother and creates bigger and better matter, while doers on the other hand tend to be of a slightly different order.

  Wouldn’t it be sweet to wake up in the morning and know what you believed was right and true beyond all doubt and the variations of opinion in the world, which create so much discrepancy and argument, were a blasphemy to human thought. Your truth was the correct one and there was no variation. It would also allow the boon of always having fodder in your material bank for writing purposes. Of course we do not have to worry about being decapitated if we worship the wrong deity today so that’s a bonus, but there is still a stanch need for identifiable origins to validate our historical perspective on life. As such some are of the opinion that Royalty is needed in England today. Many are in agreement with that fact although they do concede that their income should be scrutinished and capped.  It is to be noted despite this that the man in the street do find themselves on the end of the serpent’s tooth if they are wearing last year’s wardrobe. I personally prefer looking like I stepped out of 2009 than losing my ability to throw up at the sight of today’s equivalent of Sir Moore. A title that Messer’s Trump and May have to contend with, although they seem to do it with alarming alacrity. Perhaps one’s place in life depends on one’s perspective towards it. Remembrance perpetuates through skin and bone, flowing through clan, families and home.

My name will die with the earth.

 ·         Video

 ·         The Tudors, Michael Hurst, Johnathan Rys Myers, Jeremy Northiam, Showtime, April 2007

·         The Tower Of London, UNESLO, May 24 2013

·         The World Within – CG Jung – In His Own Words, Psychology Library, Feb 1 2017

·         Sociology - Emile Durkheim, Gringa Video Audio, May 1 2015

·         The Royal Wedding Ceremony At Westminster Abby, The Royal Family, April 29 2017

·         Royal Family of the Beast, Shocking Look into the Antichrist Bloodline, John 3:16, Vid Ministry, June 3 2018

·         The Tower of London Documentary, Doc Spot, Feb 24 2018

·         Prince Phillip Carries Out Last Formal Engagement, BBC News, August 2 2017

·         End The Monarchy Now! For The Baby! Russel Brand, The Trews, Feb 10 2014

·         Crown Estate Hits Record Profits with Queen Set To Benefit, Bloomberg, 7 July 2011

·         Political Reasons Why Monarchy Is Good, Frith Mister, June 2 2017

·         Engineering Miscode Structures, With Distinct Dynamic Implications, New Journal Of Physics, December 11 2012

·         Service Charge, Beaton Edwards, January 12 2011

·         Trump and May Hold Press Conference, Sky News, July 13 2008

Indo-European Origen, CroPedroForever, August 24 2012

[childrenofathoria-rp-blog]

◆Out Of Character Information◆

Name/Age: Cas, 31 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: EST Desired Character: Constantine

◆Character Information◆

(1) What pronouns will your character be using? Would you like to list their sexuality at this time?:

~He/Him or sometimes They/Them, sexuality I dunno! He probably does’t even understand labels like that.

(2) Any changes or comments?

~I am considering some mark on him from the Circle of Light that he can’t glamour off his body. Like a tattoo or something ‘ugly’ he can hide that is sort of a 'mark of a traitor’ type of thing. Will headcanon it out.

(3) Why this character?

~I was torn a few months ago about taking him or Phillip and decided that Phillip would be an enjoyable bio to play, so I took him. But now that time has passed, I find myself staring his bio down, and I think it’s time to dive into his character. This is the season for playing new species! I am playing a vampire, and now I’d like to also try the fae.

What captivated me with Constantine was his Bloodhawk connection. There is history I have with the hunter clan from previous seasons, and I couldn’t pass up being involved with them again. Constantine’s role is very different from anything I have written before which I think will be fun to explore especially with us pushing so many political plots forward involving the King over hunting supernaturals down. As an admin, we can use him for the main plot which is vital to keep things moving forward as well. I also want to explore ALL the realms!

(4) Interpret this character:

~When I first read his bio, I immediately thought 'wow, he’s all glitz and glam! How fun! Phillip will be so jealous!’ And he totally is this but then it sunk in how complicated he is once you read his history. The fact he has alluded to corruption in his magic is a 'red flag’ of sorts. He was imprisoned as The Guilty One by the Circle of Light so that immediately makes me wonder why? I have a few ideas to allude to this avoidance of darkness, some stemming from his magic and his family history. Was he imprisoned because they thought he couldn’t succumb to it or was he entombed because he’s actually already a monster and doesn’t know it?

Or was it all just a farce? Lots of ways to take it.

His beef with the Circle of Light is the crux of his need to be with the Kingdom. I think he honestly loves Athoria and King Nathaniel, and there isn’t an ounce of falsehood to his want to adhere to the laws and to enforce them. It can even almost seem to go too far in some cases. The Bloodhawks are literally the family he lost and always wanted.

I will probably have Constantine suffer from some PTSD and phobia involving the dark and especially enclosed spaces. I believe his house is illuminated with sunshine and light at all hours of the day, to an obnoxious and overdone point. He sleeps better in a huge bed with lots of soft objects alongside the glam of his home.

Constantine has a collection of three Brownies who take care of their house. They can take the shape of crows and are an annoying bunch, chatty and squawking, and sometimes can be a weird intimidating presence when they are all together. Constantine will sometimes alter his shape into a crow to blend in with them, using that form to spy on people or to listen in on conversations.

The fae enjoys listening to others speak. He will lead them easily down the path he wants without having to do much but nod or respond with simple words to keep their interests. This is mostly because of his trust issues and finds he can learn more about a person if he lets them lead the conversations. Constantine will hover in the front of someones conscious when they speak to detect lies but prefers to see them ruin themselves. When he’s ready to explain he will go a bit overboard, and use lots of words and questions built in to not lie about anything.

Corruption hasn’t festered in Constantine, and yet he is surrounded by it often. His work with the Bloodhawks can be nerve wracking at times, especially when calling people out on their lies and trying to establish strong connections outside the border of Athoria. He enjoys walking in Leeds to whisper in peoples ears or use his magic just enough to alter potion’s potencies to enact a new response. He has been known to answer questions about magic from the Isles that hasn’t been learned on Earth yet, and there are rumors they have seen Hell with their own eyes making those demonic magic wielders desperate for his attention when he’s in town.

Constantine isn’t a violent person, when engaged he will often run than deal with it directly. His victories are in negotiations, but he won’t try too hard to sway someone he doesn’t think worth his time. His trust is permanently stunned into submission. If he were to run into any Circle of Light members, he would be torn between wanting to corrupt them in darkness as payback (looking at Remy LOL) or attempt to find someone to deal with it for them.

He is one of the rare few fae’s who has elf souls. They are around his neck in a protected pendant. He mostly collects gifted human souls in Leeds, especially the really nasty ones. It’s amusing to him to have gotten a hold of such ugly souls and treats them like a memento of sorts. He is a realm traveler and a nosy fae. I want to use him for all the connections involving the realms.

Some plots and quests I am very interested in.

I’d like Killian to be the one to find him.

I want him to take Remy to Hell.

A changeling thread to get into his headspace about the corrupted fae.

I’d like to see him stop some environmental issue plaguing the lands either close the rift in Cresent Grove or lower the waters in Grimsby, all for the King obviously.

A dream realm thread where he’s there to get information from that person while they are vulnerable.

◆ Interview Questions ◆

(1) How do you avoid corruption after all the evil that you seem to accomplish? Aren’t you afraid that one day it will all catch up to you?

“Is corruption evil?” The fae easily turned the question around, a dancing finger fluttered near the person’s face allowing flecks of sparkles and glitters to gently cascade off his attire from the motion. “Is being tainted a terrible thing? All around us we see species evolving. Those myths you wish to tell your children about in your beds are often depicted as punishment for stepping on a side they should not have. If doing evil is such a horrible thing– if doing it didn’t somehow allow the light to exist at all…” He smirked, a gentle lift of his shoulders as if to expel a silent laugh. “Well, traveler. You would think it has caught up already, what does that say about your world?”

(2) What made you take the position in the Athorian Government as a Bloodhawk?

“The Kingdom is my home, and I want to help where I can,” Constantine settled comfortably in the chair, legs propped up on the counter of the bar. There were a few onlookers at the position in his seat, but no one said anything. “Though the job was practically made for me, how could the King not want me in it?! Who else would be so perfect other than– well, me? Well, there could be a few others, but I am good at it. Don’t you trust the King and his choices on the matter?”

◆Writing Sample:◆

~ Constantine’s brow lifted into a gentle curve against his forehead. The situation was tense by his standards. Not everything was supposed to work out easy all the time, that would make for a very boring new life– or so he delicately convinced himself. Being ignored was the frustrating weapon trust into his gut with a feral twist. The negotiations were apparently falling quicker apart between the two women over what, he glanced over too, was livestock.

“Madam’s,” his voice alone drew their gazes towards his position; he purposefully tucked his hands into a clasp behind his back. “I know this donkey, was that what it’s called?”

They both nodded, folding their arms into secure protection across their chests. Their cheeks were flush from the argument, and Constantine could tell both were ready to go off at the moment he said the wrong thing. His eyes trailed side to side between them off for a dizzying moment until squarely glaring at the lady on the left who took a step back in the sudden confrontation.

“You partner did get drunk and bet your donkey and unfortunately lost,”

“HA SEE!”

“However,” Constantine wiggled his fingers, and the lady’s outburst snapped her lips shut for her. “Your husband purposively deceived him from the beginning. Putting the bug in his ear all night about the donkey, then when he was drunk enough got him into a betting situation where he’d lose.”

“You cheat!” “I ain’t no cheat you bugger!”

Constantine closed his hands together with a clap, bringing them to his lips where the nails just touched them. They both were silent immediately, purple magic tethered around their wrists like a bangle before fading.

“You summoned me to help you. I was not called here on Bloodhawk business, surely something over a donkey could have been resolved between two adults and not require me?” The ground trembled, a crack forming just under their toes. Constantine asked a lot of questions; it was part of his way around revealing too much truth. Masking curiousness and being unsure about topics with an inquiry.

“You have helped them before,” one of the wives quickly said, lifting her hands in a mild exposure of surrender to their bickering. “We trust you when you make a decision.”

“Alright, then I say this,” he sighed, releasing the bound claps of his fingers from near his face and snapped them instead. The husbands appeared by their sides, both already drunk and it was barely mid day. He drew out a piece of parchment out of thin air and quill.

“You can keep the donkey, but you owe them the amount of coin or trade for the value of one since you did lose the bet,” Constantine lifted his gaze from the parchment and glared at the other man. “And you are prohibited from gambling in Brailston. I won’t extend it beyond those borders, but since this family lives here, I feel that’s a fair trade.

"You know this is magically binding– even more so since you summoned me personally. If you do not keep your end of the contract, Jailor Kei Barcena will receive notification. Then things our out of my hands,”

With a curl of his hand, the parchment disappeared and went into his filing system.

They walked away quietly, adults with their heads bowed low as if he had struck a whip to their backs in disappointment. Humans were so confusing and depressing sometimes; he couldn’t entirely understand their fights even though he made an effort to keep the peace for King Nathaniel.

“Didn’t know you were in town,” one of his fellow Bloodhawk members took a few steps to meet his side, and Constantine offered a crooked smile in return. A calmness washed over him the very second the other neared him. The clan was home, and he wasn’t going to mess this up.

“Wasn’t planning on it, I was supposed to be Leeds for the remainder of the season,”

“Well, it’s good to see you. Why don’t we catch up?” Constantine nodded with a gentle wave in the direction of the main steet walk.

“Of course–”