#tutoring service in Falls Church

[vodika-vibes]

congrats on 650!!!!! could I get a regency AU with Fives? I've been obsessssedddd with bridgerton lately and why not smash my two favorite things rn together! you can do whatever you want with the story!

Let's Fly

Summary: After the untimely deaths of your father and older brother, you find yourself living in a home that is both cold and unwelcoming. Convinced that your father and brother were murdered, you reach out for help. This is how you meet Private Investigator Fives.

Pairing: Pre-ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 1923

Warnings: None

Prompt: Regency AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, when you said Regency AU, you definitely meant Murder Mystery a la Sherlock Holmes right? Because that's what this is. Anyway, this does end on a cliffhanger, it gives me something to come back to if I feel like it, and it lets the readers decide what they want to happen. I hope you like it! The name came from the song I was listening to when I started writing it.

“I am very sorry about your husband and stepson, Lady Harride.” Father Paul says as he takes your stepmother’s hands in his own, trying to offer comfort.

“Thank you, Father.” Your stepmother, Cassandra Harride, says quietly. She hasn’t cried once since the deaths of your father or brother at the beginning of the week.

You know that people grieve differently, but you’re pretty sure she’s not grieving at all. 

Not that you’re crying either. You’ve long since run out of tears. 

You don’t look at your stepmother or Father Paul as they speak next to you. No, you keep your gaze locked on the identical coffins at the front of the church. Coffins identical to the one that you buried your mother in three years ago.

You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be buried in an identical coffin too.

“Mistress Harride,” Father Paul kneels at your feet, and you slowly turn your gaze to the man who’s watched you grow up, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

You feel numb. Numb and empty.

“Thank you, Father.” You say automatically.

“If either of you need anything,” He continues as he looks from you to your stepmother, and then back again, “Please, don’t be afraid to let the church know. We are here for you.”

“Thank you, Father. I’ll let you know.” Your stepmother says politely, “Are you ready to go?” She asks as she lightly touches your shoulder.

You’re quiet for a moment, and then slowly get to your feet, “Yes. I suppose there’s nothing left here for me.”

Father Paul stands as well, “Will we see you both this weekend?”

“Of course, Father. We wouldn’t miss it.” Your stepmother says quietly, “Excuse us.”

She leads you through the church, and then out to where the family carriage is waiting. The footman helps her into the carriage first, and then you, and shuts the door with a very final-sounding click.

“That was a very nice service,” Cassandra notes thoughtfully, “Reminds me of your mother’s service.”

“They were identical.” You reply numbly, “Same flowers, same sermon, same mourners—”

“Ah. Yes, of course.” She falls silent and adjusts her skirt, “So, I was thinking,” She begins, “How would you feel about moving into the East wing?”

The East Wing. Where your brother lived.

“If you like, Cassandra.” You say quietly.

“I think it’ll be for the best.” She continues, “Maker knows that the balcony outside your bedroom needs to be repaired.” The older woman pauses, “I would hate for something to happen to you.”

“...of course, Cassandra.”

Your father paid for you to attend the nicest boarding schools on the continent. He paid for tutors and lessons and everything in between. He felt that your education was one of the most important things that he would ever gift you.

As a result, you are not a stupid woman.

You know that your father’s and brother’s deaths were not an accident. They were killed. And, if you were a suspicious person, you might wonder if your mother was murdered as well.

And, really, there’s only one person who would benefit from all of their deaths. The same woman who you now live alone with.

“Cassandra?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I was thinking of going into the city later today.” You murmur, “If you have no qualms about me borrowing the carriage?”

“Today?”

You don’t look at her, your gaze locked on the trees racing passed the carriage instead, “I’m finding the house… stifling, these last few days. I believe that getting out will be good for me.”

Cassandra nods slowly, “Of course. I felt much the same after my father died.”

At that, you pull your gaze away from the window, “How long did it take you to feel normal again?”

She drops her gaze to her lap, “Years. And even now, I wake up some mornings expecting to hear his voice.” There seems to be genuine concern in her voice, “The pain never really goes away. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, though.”

“No. Not really.”

Cassandra nods, “I think a visit to the city will be good for you. Will you change out of your mourning gown?”

“I’ll change into a lighter one.”

“And you’ll wear your mourning veil.”

“Of course.” Your veil is much shorter than your stepmother’s, as the widow, hers is much longer. You allow your gaze to drift back out the window, and the carriage descends into a stilted silence.

Harride Manor has been in your family for seven generations. Built by one of your ancestors as a wedding gift for his wife. It houses over 80 people, half of them related to you.

Your stepmother believes that the house is hers.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

With the death of your father and brother the house and title now belong to your uncle, Mariano Harride. 

Uncle Mariano seems to have aged twenty years over the last week you note as he helps you out of the carriage and then ignores your stepmother. “My dear girl,” He places his hands on your shoulders, “How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, uncle.”

“Yes,” He looks deeply pained, “I never expected to outlive your father. He’s always been healthy as a horse.” Uncle Mariano sighs deeply, “No matter, nothing will change now that the house is mine.”

“What?” Your stepmother asks as she approaches.

Your Uncle glances at her dismissively, “The house reverts to me with the death of my brother. You’ll be moved into the West Wing, Cassandra, with the rest of the extended family.”

Your stepmother flushes an ugly shade of red, “I just lost my husband and now I have to move?” She demands.

“Yes. You do.” He turns his back on her, and focuses his attention on you, “Of course, you’ll be allowed to keep your room.”

“I told her she needed to move into the East Wing.”

“It’s not your home anymore.” Uncle Mariano says sharply, “She can remain in her room until such time that she decides to marry.” He exhales slowly, “What are your plans for this afternoon, dear?”

“I was going to change and head into the city, Uncle. The house feels stifling these days.”

“Of course.” He lightly hugs you, “You’ve lost so much these last couple of years. You deserve a break.” 

“Thank you, Uncle.” You pull away from him and head into the house.

All you need is to change clothes, and then you can leave. 

Just a simple change of clothes, and then you can go and get help.

Private Investigator Fives sits in the living room in his brownstone, absently sorting the case files of the cases that he’s worked on in the past month. 

He owns this practice with his twin brother, though Echo has been away on a case of his own for the last two months. He knows that his twin is fine, Echo sends letters every other day after all, but he does miss him.

Fives pauses, mid-filing, when the doorbell rings. 

He sets his filing to the side and jogs over to the door, pulling it open with a polite smile. However, that polite smile is replaced with confusion when he sees the young woman on the doorstep.

She’s younger than him, probably by a couple of years. Her hair is covered with a black veil of mourning, and she’s clad in a mourning dress. And Fives realizes that he recognizes her.

“Mistress Harride,” He greets, “This is a surprise. Come in, come in.”  He opens the door wider and escorts her into the home, and over to one of the plush chairs.

“Thank you,” She folds her hands on her lap, “You’re the lead detective here, correct? Fives?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He sinks into a seat across from her, “Forgive me, Mistress Harride, but as I understand, your father and brother’s funerals were today—”

“You’re right. They were.” She agrees, “I…” She pauses and her hands curl around the dark material of her dress. 

Fives frowns, “You can tell me.”

She lifts her chin, and there are tears in her eyes, “I think my father and brother were murdered. And I fear that I might be next.”

He leans back in his seat, absently stroking his goatee, “As I understand, your father and brother were killed in a hunting accident.”

“No.” She pauses, “I mean, that is what the local authorities determined. But—”

“You don’t agree.”

“No.”

“Okay, tell me why.”

“My father and brother have been hunting their entire lives. They’ve always been careful. Especially after mom died.”

“Miss Harride, there’s no proof that your father and brother were murdered.” Fives says kindly.

“I know that.” She retorts, “I know there’s no proof. But I’m telling you, this wasn’t an accident.”

He sighs, “Miss Harride—”

“Detective.” She interrupts, “I lost my entire family in under three years. My father married my stepmother seven months after she died. And then my father and brother died less than two years later. There’s something not right.”

“Sometimes bad things happen.” Fives points out.

“Detective, if you don’t help me, the next time you see me will be in the news after I die in an accident.” She says quietly.

Fives leans back in his seat and stares at her, “You really think you’re in danger?”

“If not me, then someone else in my family.”

“...okay.”

“Detective?”

“I’ll take the case.”

Her entire face brightens, “You will?”

“I will. Is there anything else you feel like you need to tell me?”

She ducks her head and twists her skirt between her fingers.

“There is, isn’t there?”

“I…yes.” She shifts uncomfortably, “I don’t have any proof, but—”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. Let’s hear it.”

“I think Mother was murdered too.”

“How did she die?”

“The doctor said she had a heart attack.”

“How old was she, when she died?” Fives asks.

“Late thirties.”

“Young for a heart attack. Did she have a heart condition?”

“No. The Doctor thought it was strange too, but he said that it happens sometimes.” She replies.

“Hm.” Fives taps the arm of the chair he’s sitting in, “You know, there are some poisons that can mimic heart attacks.”

“You think my mom was poisoned?”

“I think it’s possible, but I have no proof. Yet.” He stands, “Do you have a carriage?”

“Yes. It’s waiting at the station.” She replies.

“Wonderful.” Fives moves around the living room, gathering his go-bag and pulling his jacket on, “Well then, shall we?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” She says as she stands and follows him to the front door.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He opens the door and lets her out of the house. “However, this is my promise to you, Miss Harride.” Fives says as he takes your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“You mean it?”

“I swear on my life.” Fives promises as his gaze locks with hers.

“Well, that’s something for me to thank you for then, isn’t it?” She asks with a small smile.

“I suppose it is.” Fives agrees, he releases her hand and motions for her to walk with him, “Now, I need you to tell me everything you can about your parents and brother. And all of the players in this game.”

“I can do that, where would you like me to start?”

Fives grins at her, “Tell me about your Stepmother, Miss Harride.”

[squadmuse]

DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

THE SONNY CARISI EDITION

Who reaches out to neighbours/new neighbours

Sonny definitely introduces himself, you and any children you have to new neighbours. It’s not that you don’t do it, it’s usually that Sonny ends up chatting away with them one day. All the kids in the neighbourhood know that the Carisi house has the best candy at Halloween, the neighbours know that you and Sonny throw the best barbecues and cookouts too. You’ll always take in any missing pets or injured pets or hurt kids while Sonny offers to tutor kids in the cul-de-sac & helps little old ladies and pregnant women .

Who remembers to buy healthy food

Sonny definitely buys the healthy food, he is usually the one who does the food shopping so that he can buy each thing he needs for his recipes and likes to buy organic produce or authentic foods.

Who remembers to buy junk food

It’s usually you, but you never go crazy buying tons. You’ll buy some really nice gelato or sorbetto, some big bags of mini chocolates and chocolate chip cookies.

Who fixes the oven when it breaks

Sonny tried to do it once and just made it worse, granted he was needing to cook something for a church service. Now when it happens, you’re the one to phone the expert.

Who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

You do, as Sonny is usually cooped up in his study after work. While you’re feeding your pets, Sonny cooks up meals for you and any children you have together.

Who wakes up earlier

Sonny is usually up early in order to organise his caseload as an assistant district attorney and make some breakfast.

Who makes the bed

You do, you have a few quilts and blankets on top of the duvet and you like having them tidy.

Who makes the coffee

You do, and Sonny swears your coffee is the best he’s ever had.

Who burns breakfast

It doesn’t happen that often, but it is usually you unless Sonny gets distracted. Sometimes breakfast has ended up burned as you and Sonny get lost in each other.

How do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

You and Sonny usually leave at the same time, but if not then you both give a loving kiss to the other and give each other warm wishes for the day.

How do they greet each other when one of them gets home

You both call out a cutesy “honey I’m home,” as you come through the front door. Usually if one is home before the other then you or him will join the other in the kitchen where dinner is being made.

Who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

Sonny absolutely loves bringing home flowers for you and you love bringing home some of his favourite Italian chocolates.

Who picks the movie for movie night

You both do. You enjoy foreign language films too, so Sonny enjoys getting to flex his Italian language skills watching Italian films.

Their favorite kind of movie to watch

You enjoy foreign language films but also classic Disney, drama and history films, while Sonny enjoys an array of comedies, biographical films, thrillers and science fiction.

Who first suggests a pillow fort

Sonny, and it’s usually after a weekend looking after his nieces.

Who builds the pillow fort

Sonny asserts that he can move the heavier furniture while you bring together all the blankets, quilts, cushions and pillows.

Who tries to distract the other during the movie

Sonny sometimes has a running commentary during a film, especially if it’s one he’s seen before and he’s always got his hands on you so you end up distracted his trailing fingers.

Who falls asleep first

You do, Sonny usually takes a while longer to fully shut his mind down after work. But you try your best to get him sleeping and not up worrying.

Who is big spoon/little spoon

Sonny is the big spoon due to his size and height compared to you and he loves getting to do it every day.

[lorei-writes]

Hi Lorei!! 🥺💖💖

Can i request an AU for Masamune, Clavis, Arthur, and me 👉👈

Thank you so much ndjsjsksks I hope you have a good day! 💖💖💖✨

Rina! (Codename: Ririririri; Does everybody have a codename? That, that is a secret.)

Oh, oh, you know, you'd fit beautifully in XIX century European (IshouldmostdefinitelyspecifywhichcountryEuropeanbutIcan'tbebotheredtodosoEuropean) countryside.

The setting is as follows: You're the only child born to an impoverish branch of a rather renowned noble family. It seems like you may have to go into service of your aunts and uncles due to financial reasons, however, your situation changes drastically when it is revealed that your paternal great-grandfather entrusted you with a large sum of money in his inheritance. Ha, if anything, it is enough to elevate your entire immediate family out of its predicament.

Your father is insistent on showing your gratitude. However, he is well aware of the loans that need to be paid off, and the interest raising by the day. As such, he sends you off to his paternal great-grandmother's retreat first. He promises to join you later.

Everything is fine when you first arrive at the retreat. It's a lovely mansion, with vast flower and vegetable gardens, stables, and a cosy watch-house. It seems that the community formed around it is tightly-knit, but they welcome you nonetheless.

During your stay you meet Clavis, a rather impudent with an impish smile. The word has it that he's an illegitimate son of a local nobleman, however, can you trust just any word? All that is certain is that he and your great-grandfather were close. As such, it comes as no surprise that he continues to visit your great-grandmother.

The next person in your way is Masamune, the gardener... Although, since he is quite skilled with the knife, he does not mind the occasional butcher job either. It's a small community, and it'd be a waste to hire more people when he can do the job just fine, no? Sometimes you wonder, why does the fertiliser smell so sweetly...

Lastly, there is Arthur, the tutor from a local church school. It appears your great-grandparents were quite generous in their donations to the cause, so it shouldn't be exactly surprising that he too mourns the death of your great-grandfather... Although some would call it rather peculiar, considering that Arthur has resigned from his position and now lives from gambling.

A week has passed -- what halcyon days were those. As much as she has aged, your great-grandmother has not become any less sagacious... So you do take it with surprise when she tells you not to wander around the mansion grounds at night. It seems like superfluous caution, but you do listen to her regardless of your reservations.

They disappear fast either way.

A gunshot wakes you up at dawn.

The porter's body is found soon after in the gardens, an odd needle stuck into his arm.

Who did it?

Now, my dear. That is what you have to find out, preferably before another person falls.

--

I hope you had a wonderful weekend! >:) <3

Weekend Party

[theregrator]

Biography

Name: Pantalone Age: 36 Gender: Male Height: 185cm when he’s not crouching, 175cm when he’s crouching.

Background

i. Birth Pantalone was born into a poor family, as the youngest brother with five older sisters, who frequently received handouts from the clergy. Pantalone is born deaf and had poor communication with his family. Once Pantalone was old enough, his father urges him to join the clergy, and so he did.

After joining the clergy, Pantalone seldom visits his family, but made a point to visit them once every month. The clergy taught him sign language and lip reading, giving him the most basic and fundamental education. Eventually, Pantalone learned from them the healing arts and became a decent physician who offered his services to the people who came to their church for help.

Some time in between those years, war happened. When the church was destroyed, Pantalone, one of the (un)lucky ones who survived, was left stranded on his own. He spent 3 years in the wild, living off scraps and begging. Life eventually pushes him towards stealing and getting himself into the service of the rich. He grew envious of their lifestyle and realised how money made the world spin. It was the first time in his life he realised that what the church previously taught him could be used to earn money.

When he was still a clergyman, he had never used his skills for money.

ii. Living in the slums

Picking up his old craft once more, Pantalone sharpened his abilities and slowly offered his services to more noblemen, climbing the corporate ladder one step at a time. He’s seen the best of lifestyles and secretly craved for them, but unfortunately, his outstanding abilities drew the attention of the wrong people, which did not help with Pantalone’s arrogant and haughty demeanor. A few people joined forces to cast him out of their space, throwing him back into the slums.

With nowhere else to go, Pantalone had no choice but to work for crooks and the gentry of the slums. The slums are not pretty, especially at a time of war. From there Pantalone caught various diseases, recovered, caught them again, rinse and repeat. A few years later, this proved to be severely impacting his health. His health and body deteriorated, and he became chronically ill. He would fall sick at the briefest gust of wind or the slightest change in weather. His skin would bruise at the most gentle grip. He is perpetually coughing and is on long-term medication. He is incapable of physical combat. 

iii. Joining the Fatui The Fatui originally recruited him to be their physician, but Pantalone turned them down. Instead, he fought for a role to be involved in social order, and got it.

The Fatui in general is amused that Pantalone’s spiteful and arrogant behaviour hasn’t changed even though he’s physically handicapped in battle. Pantalone knew how to fight, but can’t ever since living in the slums and becoming... this. He is, however, still internally a violent person and did not shy away from threats and insults when someone apparently crosses him or pisses him off. His body is probably the only thing that prevents him from asserting (actually) harmful physical violence on people who he holds grudges against, Pantalone resorting to simply fantasizing himself avenging himself through playing various scenes in his head where he could actually choke someone with his bare hands, all the while behaving politely with them on the outside and speaking words that held daggers.

He is known for wearing a thick fur coat all the time in the Fatui and rarely leaves the Headquarters because of his chronical illness.

iv. Dottore’s mentor and partnership

(If your muse is Dottore and incompatible to this section, feel free to ignore it completely)

At some point, the Fatui recruited an outcast, Dottore, who was still a student back then, and assigned Pantalone as his mentor seeing how they’re both “doctors”. Pantalone tutored Dottore what he knew since joining the Fatui as instructed, although he’s constantly annoyed by Dottore’s rudeness and other behaviours towards himself, calling him a “brat”. Despite all that, however, Pantalone could not deny that Dottore is a rather gifted individual in their line of work and understood why Pierro recruited him. This is probably one of the only times Pantalone shows any positive behaviour: he truly passed on everything he knew to Dottore, until he’s got nothing left to teach him. Aside from business and economics, of course, which Dottore is uninterested in. After claiming that he has nothing left to tutor Dottore on, Dottore officially “graduates” from his mentorship and hence became partners. 

_______________________ Last revised version: 2023-04-25

[cmcsmen]

Bishop Joseph N. Perry: John 1, 35-42

“Rabbi, where do you stay?”  “Come and see,” Jesus answered…. and they stayed with him that day.

I wager you would agree with me that life is lived best with devotion.  Devotion supplies meaning and purpose to all things important in life.

Devotion means that I am focused upon duty and responsibility and obligation so that life for me and others I come in contact with might be blessed and fortunate.  I bestow dignity upon others if I can be devoted to them in service and love.

In the times within which we live where there exists all kinds of choices and lifestyles, some good and others bad, we need to sort out what helps us live devotedly to our spouse and children, to our friends, to the church, to studies in school, to the people for whom I work and from whom I take a salary.   It is the Christian way.

Devotion supplies that personal energy needed to build a worthwhile life.

What inspires a life of devotion is the inspiration we receive from the life and death of Jesus Christ – whose Incarnation –becoming flesh- in this world set him on a path of stellar devotedness that saw him give up his life so that you and I might have Life.  We witness so much tragedy in life and read and hear reports that usually unravel a story of a person’s lack of devotion, infidelity, immaturity or disorientation.

Another way of explaining it might be our desire to be “intentional” with our lives.  Success in life is spelled by being intentional with what falls to us.  Married couples cannot remain faithful to each other unless they are intentional with their vows to remain true to each other in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health till death do they part.  Priests cannot remain faithful to the Church unless they are intentional with their vows to remain personally sacrificial while serving people and leading others to God.  Young people cannot grow to be responsible adults unless they learn early on what it means to subtract from themselves in order to add to someone or some thing else, taking to heart the wisdom received from influential adults in their lives and learning early on the importance of religious observance.

We need intentional living in order to navigate the mixed messages and false advice we pick up from the culture so that we can improve on the many ills that our society suffers today.  Notice, the popular culture speaks to us loud and clear especially through the lives of celebrities and stars of stage and screen and sport that:  ‘You should commit to nothing and no one, so that you might have everything!’  But, there are those who commit to nothing and lose everything.  Christian philosophy has always set forth that life is lived best if there is some thing or some one we are willing to live for, even die for.  For the Christ we love and admire did just that with us in mind.  The saints and martyrs of Christianity lived in such a way.

II

This passage from John’s gospel sees several young men advised to transfer their allegiance to a rabbi from Nazareth, having first been students of John the Baptist.  In those days it was customary for young men to come under the influence of a tutor, a master who would lead them along the paths of wisdom and maturity and religious observance.  Meeting Jesus, when they ask him, where do you stay, it usually meant  ‘Master, where do you teach from, where is your classroom, in other words.’  Jesus answers, “Come, and see!”

For you and me, Jesus’s classroom is here in Church where we meet Him, hear his lessons from the textbook of the scriptures, learn the mysteries of life and spirit and the wisdom involved in living well in order to understand the kingdom being prepared for us.

From time to time, it helps to reflect upon our willingness to be intentional with our faith and other obligations, renew our attitude with our commitment to live as Jesus teaches.

III

Most of us inherited our faith.  It was bequeathed to us by previous generations.  We were brought to the baptismal font as infants.  We grew up in the church. We were tutored in the basic truths of the faith.  We were fortunate if we saw those truths exemplified in our families.  Loving parents, fellow Christians, clergy and other model adults made the idea of a loving God believable.  The necessity of sharing with our brothers and sisters – siblings – planted in us the seeds of generosity and sharing.  Receiving fair treatment along life’s way helped us to learn to trust.  By being forgiven we learned to forgive others while learning that we are loved by God despite our mistakes.  In other words, Christian faith was a part of our development.  It was natural to become a follower of Jesus Christ. We cannot remember when Christianity was not a part of our lives.

Nevertheless, some of us may have had the opposite experience. Some of us may have grown up in homes where there was little love and much dysfunction, little mutual acceptance and a lot of hurt. Consequently, faith and trust may not come easy for some of us.  What does the church have to offer those of us with that kind of experience?

The gospel passage from John today tells us about the first ones to become followers of Christ.  One day John the Baptist pointed them to Jesus, saying,  “Look, there is the Lamb of God… you should go and be with him now.”  These young men followed Jesus and spent the rest of the day with him.  Andrew goes and invites his brother, Simon.  Then two other brothers, James and John join them as well right from their fishing boats.  For these young men this was the beginning of a new adventure, their new life, their Christian life.

IV

Faith’s starting place is wherever we are at the moment. We must start where we are with all our doubts, our wounds and scars and failures. This is what Andrew and Simon and the others did.  Vocationally, these young men were fishermen.  Religiously, they were Jews, some of them as we heard under the tutelage of the prophet John the Baptist.  Obviously they knew very little about Jesus.  They did not recognize Jesus until John pointed him out to them.  But the young men started right there where they were and ultimately became among the most admired young men of all time whose names are enunciated to this day in the scriptures and among the litany of the saints.  Faith’s starting place is wherever we are.

Where we find ourselves initially may not seem promising.  Some of us admit to knowing little or nothing about our Catholic faith or of having been lukewarm or some-timey with our practice.  Some of us may have lived lives that Christian faith cannot endorse. Others of us may have tried to follow Jesus and had little if any success.  We may be reluctant and a little embarrassed to try again. Others of us may not be sure we want to try.  We have doubts. We are like that man who said to Jesus:  “I believe Lord, help my unbelief.”  (Mark 9, 24).

Some of us may be like that young man who asked Jesus directly what he could do to have eternal life and Jesus challenged him to get rid of everything he possessed and come follow him (Mark 10, 17).  But the young man backed away from Jesus incredulous for, as the gospel explains, he had many possessions.

All these things are problematic but none of them prohibits us from following Jesus Christ.  Certainly, Jesus confronted people with a way of living and challenged them to try it.  This is not to suggest that Jesus’ way is easy, but it is a proven way of living if you can be intentional with it.

Our religion, over two thousand years old, bears a wisdom for us in face of the constant questions life presents:

Can marriage work?  Can a man and woman share their lives, be faithful to one another and build a stable home for their children?  It is hard to say.  Millions have tried it.  Many have failed at it, but more have succeeded.  The evidence suggests that marriage can indeed work.  But you are not wondering about marriage in general.  You are wondering about a particular marriage, your marriage, or the marriage of one of your children or that of a friend.  Can this marriage work?  You would be wise to give it your best energy.  Avail yourself of the finest counsel.  Be as devoted and intentional with it as you can, else you will never know.   “Come and see!”   Jesus says.

IV

Is the Christian lifestyle worth it?  Can Jesus Christ transform people, put meaning into their lives and sustain them in their struggles?  Once again, it is hard to say.  The faith of some people seems utterly real. They live it every day. It works for them. They’re strong in their struggles, kind and sober under stress and hopeful in adversity.  But the faith of some others appears to be mere formality.  If it makes any real difference in their lives the evidence is hard to see.

But what you were wondering is whether faith will be worth it for you. Will it work for you?  Study can help provide some answers. Discussion can clear up some questions.  Reading the scriptures can afford some valuable insights. But in the last analysis we will never know until we try it.  This is faith’s starting place for the Christian, where our blindness can be restored, our hunger fed, our cynicism diluted, our sickness healed and our sinfulness absolved.   “Come and see!”   Jesus says.

To sum up then, living a devout Christian life means that we turn everything over to God loving Him with our whole heart, our entire mind and from the depths of our soul – a very intentional posture I might say.  It means extending indiscriminate, compassionate regard to every person who enters our space and then some.  It means scheduling regular religious observance each week in order to be fed and instructed in Christian discipleship. Living a devoted Christian life means that we live sacrificially for those assigned to us as spouse and children, siblings and others whom God has placed along our path.  It means gifting from our resources a charity that works to improve on the existence of others less fortunate.

Life at every turn for the Christian involves an unquestioned gift of self.  Living intentionally and with devotion is what its all about.  It is the only way to live and find fulfillment and blessing!

[farmgirlwriter]

Evangelical church experience

There are a number of messages contained in this memoir as the author shares her experiences when she leaves the family farm against her parents’ wishes. Her journey into independence is full of entanglements with parents and siblings, co-workers and friends. Our services - Non-fiction, Farming, The farming life, Life on a Farm, Family, Minnesota, Pets, Country experience, Life events, Growing older, Church fellowship, Betrayal, Estrangement, Rejection, Faith crisis, Calvinism, Authoritarianism, Complementarianism, Covenants, Minnesota, Family life, Marriage, Human experience, The Will, Inheriting the farm, Evangelical church experience, Spiritual abuse.  Evangelical beliefs in the history has constantly acclimated into the world who were working. In fact it served by the people for social change. Awakenings of Puritan which passed in the seventeenth century emphasized particular experience of God while reading and writing development, literature, and wisdom trials. After the American Revolution, Evangelical Christian priests began to challenge the side of the senior in their interpretation of the Bible andencourage people to read the Bible and the Church for their own sake. Eventually, in the nineteenth century, Dwight. Moody, along with numerous other evangelists find innovative ways of doing, developed a view about the life of a religious

fundamentalist, which ate all people during a time when civic Protestantism isn't welcome by ordinary people. Among  all have told the Evangelical beliefs in the history has been the most important effect. Not only that strict control of Evangelical Christian in the twentieth century, but also percolated other religious tradition. Non-fiction, Farming, The farming life, Life on a Farm, Family, Minnesota, Pets, Country experience, Life events, Growing older, Church fellowship, Betrayal, Estrangement, Rejection, Faith crisis, Calvinism, Authoritarianism, Complementarianism, Covenants, Minnesota, Family life, Marriage, Human experience, The Will, Inheriting the farm, Evangelical church experience, Spiritual abuse. Visit here for More info- https://www.farmgirlwriter.com/

Evangelical beliefs are for the benefit of people.

How to be born again movement was created within the Southern Baptist Convention and numerous Wesleyans accepted fundamentalist interpretation of biblical inerrancy. After living with the nebulosity of 1920s and rise in the attractive movement in the 1960s, a small and important influence developed in American evangelicalism. In the alternate half of the twentieth century, Billy Graham, who has been the most prominent evangelical leader in ultramodern times has led a neo- fundamentalist movements. In this rise and fall tends to that interact for that change with no difference. This was the movement survived through adversity and acclimated to drink every man, but it seems that it'll remain exactly in the twentieth century as a new type of structure to take place. ultramodern interpretation of how to be born again is that it's always is in decline because of modernization. utmost people agree, fustiness leads to secularization and secularizationleads to religious incuriosity in certain circles. This belief is told by experience that history tutored us.

Christianity is substantially sermonized in churches. Christianity was formerly guidebook internal, spiritual, moral, and for life. Church used to play an important part in nearly all public issues. Secularization of the Christian faith has forced to contend with other worldviews important religiousand nonreligious. Analysis of the reanimationof U.S.bases is important to understand why this common belief is false and that, for times, religion has survived relatively well in a pluralistic terrain. Evangelical beliefs and strict uses in theU. Shave their way of relating to fustiness. ultramodern society has placed emphasis on making choices and individuality, and atthe same time, evangelicalism is a dominie particular religious experience and maintains strict independence, generally from thegovernment. However, evangelicals respond to further followers to register and produce institutions to If we contend on voluntarism.insure the development of a church in everyday life.

[danvilleareacc]

Happy New Year!

This article first appeared in the Danville Commercial News, Jan. 14, 2023

Happy New Year. This year I’d like to propose a fresh take on the New Year, New You theme – New Year, New Us. Let’s focus less on individual improvement and more on collective, community improvement. There may be no I in Team, but there is a U in Community.

For the past year, I’ve been part of the Healthy Behaviors community working group, which resulted from the community health survey conducted by the Vermilion County Health Department. Recently, our group adopted the name Live Well VC to reflect our mission of overall community health.  

Live Well VC is focused on physical health. We’re looking for ways to provide nutrition and exercise that are available to all community members, regardless of economic status. In the process, we’ll need to battle an unconscious bias that exists concerning sports and outdoor activities.

Contrary to popular magazine covers and marketing campaigns, you don’t need to travel to distant locations, or even own an expensive equipment to get outside and experience nature. All you need to do is open your door and walk outside, especially here in Vermilion County.

We’re used to hearing how unique our Arts community is for such a small, rural county, but we are doubly blessed with our Outdoor Recreation opportunities. Despite the Flat Earth and corn jokes, our little piece of Illinois is full of natural wonders where you can hike, bike, fish, boat, float, camp, and star gaze, all for little or no money. And as a bonus, there is nothing here that will bite, sting, or scratch you fatally.

Besides our beautiful County and State parks, there are active outdoor recreation groups that are welcoming to novices, open to anyone, and full of folks who are more than willing to encourage newbies. Start a Facebook conversation with members of Kennekuk Road Runners, Kickapoo Mountain Bike Club, Kickapoo Rail Trail, or the Vermilion County Trail Alliance, and you’ll have new friends and myriad opportunities to experience nature. You’ll probably even be asked to volunteer to build a trail.

That brings me to the second part of putting the U in community. No matter how old or physically capable you are, no matter your economic or employment status – there are ways to volunteer, take an active part, and contribute to your community.

We live in an older community; the average age in Vermilion County is 40.8 years, but being older doesn’t mean being lesser. You can contribute. The local Salvation Army is looking for volunteers to “host” a drive through food drive, volunteer at the food pantry, or spearhead a fall coat drive. Local elementary schools need volunteers to help with tutoring, or just to read to the little ones. Area churches offer free lunches to the needy in our area and they need help making and distributing those lunches. Call CRIS Senior Services and see what they need you to do.

At DACC, we value our volunteers. Our volunteers run the gamut of athletes participating in team volunteer activities to Literacy Tutors who work one-on-one. Literacy tutors take 12 hours of unpaid training and then volunteer their time to teach fellow community members to read, write, and do math. Tutors need no experience or training in education. These are everyday people taking on a heroic task to make our community healthier and more welcoming. If you are interested in volunteering, call The Reader’s Route, 217.443.8899. I’m sure Paulina would love to set you up for our next training session.

So what makes a healthy community? Obviously, good physical health helps. Then there are the elements of security -- food, housing, and employment. These elements contribute to good mental health. An active Arts community, abundant recreational venues, and award-winning educational opportunities all contribute to perceived health and wellness of a community. A well-trained and well-educated community attracts better, more secure employment leading to personal security. But I think we should add volunteerism to the list. Who wouldn’t want to live in a community that cares for one another and volunteers time and talent to ensuring their neighbors feel safe, secure, and healthy. Let’s put U in our community this year.

Here’s to a happy and healthy 2023!

[wowbright]

Fic: Lucrative

Tan Hands and Tan Lines Sophisticated Word Challenge 2021: lucrative

Words: ~800 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Chandler doesn't show up to church. But someone else does.

I’m belatedly going through the prompts for The Tan Hands and Tan Lines Summer Event 2021 to flesh out my Mormon!Klaine universe. This one takes place after Can't You See and before Lift Up Your Head.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

_____

Chandler didn't show up at church on Sunday. Not that he'd said he would, but he hadn't said he wouldn't, either. Kurt was glad not to have the surprise. It was all well and fine to be the object of someone’s flirtations in a coffee shop, but at sacrament meeting? The fun of it would turn into mortification.

Gay college students weren't a very lucrative field for conversion, anyway.

Kurt looked over at Elder Anderson, who was listening intently to the opening music. The Schmidt children and their mom were playing a modification of Pachelbel's Canon on strings. The violins weren't terrible. Schwester Schmidt’s cello, on the other hand, was actually nice.

Elder Anderson noticed Kurt looking at him. “That cello,” he mouthed. He put his hand over his heart and made it flutter along with his eyelashes. “So good.”

Kurt tilted his head toward his companion so he could whisper without being overheard. He didn't think about how close his lips were to Elder Anderson’s ear until later that evening, when he was trying to fall asleep. “Do you play?”

Elder Anderson shook his head. “Just piano. And a little guitar.” The music hit a quiet spot. Elder Anderson scratched a few words in German on the edge of his bulletin. Maybe when I grow up.

Kurt snatched the pen from his companion. You're already grown up, technically. He’d meant to be reassuring, but as soon as he was done writing the words, he wondered if Elder Anderson would take them as an admonition to stop dreaming. Well. He could fix that. Eternal progress. Always time to learn.

“Oh my gosh.” Elder Anderson squeezed Kurt’s wrist. At first, Kurt thought his companion was reacting to his brilliant observation. But then— “Guess who just walked in.”

Kurt looked up. Doro was standing in the doorway, majestic in a dark shirt and slacks, and Stefan just behind her. “I thought they weren't coming till Easter.”

“I guess they changed their minds.”

Kurt waved to get the couple's attention. They were looking in the opposite direction. “Be right back.” Kurt slid out of the aisle and met them at the doorway. “Nice to see you! We have room in our aisle. Come.”

They looked relieved to see a familiar face. According to the notes in the mission log, their one and only visit had been last summer, and in a very Catholic way they had only stayed for the service, then immediately left without mingling. Kurt would make sure they at least met the Higashis. Takuya was an engineer, Doro was a scientist—they had to have something in common, right?

Elder Anderson stood up and they shifted seats so there could be one missionary on either side of the couple when they sat back down. Easier to tutor them through the service that way. It was always a little nerve wracking sitting with investigators. Kurt wondered what they were thinking, what the service looked like through untrained eyes. If the boring parts looked fresh and new, or were boring to them, too. If the meaningful parts, like drinking water from a tiny cup, seemed mundane.

Doro and Stefan’s expressions were inscrutable. They might be bored. They might simply be taking it all in.

Things took a turn during the mid-meeting hymn, Praise to the Lord, the Almighty [x]. It was one of those hymns that was impossible to sing halfheartedly, and though Kurt tried to hold back a little for the sake of the investigators, Elder Anderson did not. That turned out to be the better choice. His enthusiasm spread to Stefan, and then to Doro, and soon they were the loudest four in the congregation—but only momentarily. Because joy was contagious, and so was the Holy Spirit. The congregation caught fire. Their collective voices filled the room with a passion and resonance Kurt had rarely heard within chapel walls.

Schwester Schönfeld got up to give a talk. Kurt didn't know what to expect—he’d never heard her speak in church before—but she was smart and witty and well-spoken outside of church. Kurt gave a quick prayer that she would say the words Stefan and Doro needed to hear.

“Some of you know I am a scientist by trade,” Schwester Schönfeld began. “A microbiologist, to be specific. Every day, when I go into work, I feel grateful to have a job that brings me closer to God through studying his creation.”

Doro leaned forward. Her interest was piqued.

Schwester Schönfeld spoke about the scientific process and finding God in the details, in evolution, in the strata of rock carved out by the Breitach River, in the human fossils dug from the Neandertal Valley. “Is it rude to take notes?” Doro whispered to Kurt.

“Go right ahead.” He handed her his pen.

She jotted neat German script in the margins of her bulletin.

The Holy Spirit was moving.

[glowingbadger]

Seteth teaching shy reader how to kiss (with tongue) for the first time 🥺

Can I just say.

That I inevitably end up becoming the forefront of the Church of Seteth on every social media platform I touch.

And it's my own fault. And I'm okay with it. Thank you all for thirsting for Dragon Daddy with me.

Seteth (FE3H) x GN Reader - kissing lesson

Semi-spicy idk

Seteth has always been careful towards you- it's in his nature. And yet, you know that behind his carefully curated existence as the stalwart big brother and stoic advisor, there's a man with some measure of... well, experience. And for all the experience that you yourself lack, you long to see his put to use. When you finally see a glimpse of it, it's not quite how you'd expected.

You've had a long day. The kind of ordinary long day that makes you resent how it's dragged you down. Nothing in particular had caused you excessive stress- it was all more or less business as usual. But business as usual can begin to weigh on a person after so many days, and you long for the chance to visit the nearby shores, or walk through town without a list of errands in hand. The thought of inviting Seteth on anything approximating a "date" is tempting- but you're certain he couldn't possibly find the time. As the thought occurs to you though, you hear his familiar voice outside of your room.

"Y/N, do you have a moment?" he asks, formal and yet with the tenderness in his tone that he only uses with you. Scurrying to the door, you open it with a broad smile and invite him in,

"What a surprise- aren't you busy?"

"Always," he says with a bemused sigh, "but I do try to make time for you when I can. And I can't help but notice that you seem particularly worn these days."

"Is it that obvious?" you say with an awkward half-smile, "Well, I'm honored to have you to myself for a bit."

At your encouragement, Seteth sits at the edge of your bed (though you notice, he's careful to keep a gentlemanly distance from you), and offers you a pastry he'd rescued from the dining hall before they were all taken. The two of you make light conversation as you enjoy dessert together. You assure him that nothing's wrong, you're just exhausted, and he promises to take time off to go somewhere together soon. Truly, you're feeling bubbly and warm just to have this quiet time together.

And yet what causes you to seek out his lips is no less than a lovely cliche. With fond, half-lidded eyes, Seteth leans close to brush a crumb from the corner of your lips as you finish your last bite- and your restraint fractures. You kiss him firmly, and he makes a short sound of surprise, but doesn't pull away. Emboldened, you shift closer to him on the bed, and feel his warm hand cup your cheek. Then- a new sort of warmth. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, and something powerful and urgent rises from the core of your body. You catch your breath. You shiver. Seteth lurches away.

"I- I'm sorry- I don't mean to press you into anything you would not-"

"Hold on- Seteth, it's just-" you say with a shy chuckle, "I, uh... well, I've never really kissed... quite like that before."

He looks dumbfounded, his fair skin flushed bright red.

"Goddess, I..." he holds one of your hands in his, looking for all the world like a sinner at the alter, "Please forgive me- you must think me some sort of predatory-"

You say his name firmly, resisting the urge to laugh once again.

"I liked it- I was just surprised, and... didn't really know what to do," you move closer still to him, "Will you uhm... teach me?"

Seteth breathes in, and once more his hand comes to caress the contour of your cheek,

"How can I possibly refuse such a request?" he says softly. His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, and his eyes flicker down, then back up to yours. "Well then, if you'd like a lesson, then pay close attention."

When he presses his lips to yours this time, you can already feel the difference. His head tilts slightly, deepening the kiss. His breath is warm and steady, and he smells like church incense and fine parchment. Your body instinctively leans into him, and this time, when his tongue presses along the crease of your lips, you open them for him. Seteth teases your tongue with his, using slow, sensual movements. You do your best to reciprocate, but the elegantly skillful way his lips and tongue move has you near breathless, your heart pounding up to your throat. Finally, he pulls away just enough to murmur,

"You're doing well- just like that. Do what feels natural and pleasurable to you, and you'll fall into a natural rhythm of sorts."

This time, you tug lightly at the front of his robes and kiss him. Seteth utters a low, approving groan, then graciously opens his lips to you as you try to mimic his actions from before. Goddess, his taste and the softness of his lips are positively addictive. You can't help returning to him again and again, letting him show you through his motions how to run your tongue along his, how your lips move in tandem with his, and then-

"Nngh-" you let out a sound of surprise as Seteth nips at your bottom lip. Your heart lurches and your body burns, your fists clenching tight enough to leave crescent marks on your palms. For a moment, you part from him. He looks about to question you- you imagine he's concerned that he's pushed too far once again. But as you shift on the bed and climb up onto his lap, he's silent. With a touch of disbelief in his voice, he whispers your name, then draws you to him with his fingers tangling into your hair.

"You're quite the... quick learner..." he says softly in the rare moments his tongue isn't tangled with yours. Your fists grip the front of his clothing, noticing for the first time just how firm and defined the muscles of his chest are beneath his usual attire. Eventually, you manage,

"You're simply an excellent tutor," before returning to him in full. Before long, you're both practically breathless. You'd never imagined that mere kissing could feel so intimate- so erotic. But the way Seteth's tongue plays slowly and sensually against yours, and the way his strong hands hold you flush against his body have your pulse pounding and your head spinning.

"Seteth," you say, though it comes out close to a moan, "Will you... teach me just a little more?"

"Anything," he replies, still so close that his lips brush yours when he speaks, "I am utterly at your service."

[moonlit-jeno]

secrets | n.jm

genre/ warnings: vampire au, explicit sexual content, angst, way too much blood/ blood drinking, b i t i n g, character death (kind of), references to drugs, religion

word count: 9.5k

summary:

“I’m not scared.”

“No?” The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

notes: big thanks to @jaemallow for pushing the jaemin agenda and helping to keep me sane

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Mark grumbles at you, throwing an agitated glance over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and slow down even more just to spite him. “Dude, my dad’s going to kill me.” “He’ll be fine. Murder’s against the word of God, y’know.” You speed up despite your words, laughing at the way Mark glares at you. 

There’s a crack in the sidewalk that he trips over and you laugh good naturedly. The street leading up to the church is in less than optimal shape, littered with cracks in the sidewalk and missing chunks of cement. Mark’s dad had tried to raise money to fix the street, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Mark starts walking slower all of a sudden and you grumble, glaring at him when he grabs your wrist to yank you backwards. You’re about to ask what his problem is when you see the three figures at the end of the road, moving closer towards you two.

“You’re kidding me.” They hear it, they must, with their superhuman senses. It only makes them smile brighter. You glance at Mark. “Wanna turn around?”

“Too late.” Mark breathes, staring straight ahead of him with wide eyes. You look away from him to find the three vampires standing directly in front of you, blocking your way.

A groan leaves you and you cross your arms, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Can we help you?”

The ringleader of the bunch, Jaemin, smiles. “Well, since you’re offering, I suppose I am feeling a little hungry.”

The church is only one block down but if they don’t want to let you pass, you’re not going to get there. Mark shifts nervously next to you, shaking his head when you open your mouth to make a remark. That doesn’t stop you from saying it. “You realize that just because you’re from the 1200’s doesn’t mean that you have to talk like you’re from the 1200’s.”

“I resent that.” Jaemin frowns, clutching his hands to his chest likes he’s been stabbed. “I was born in 1706. It’s almost like you don’t care about me at all.”

“Is it? Must be because I don’t.” The other two vampires are silent, though one of them- Jeno- watches with amusement. The other one is unfamiliar and looks like he’s trying to figure out to pair you with white or red wine. You shudder and turn your attention to Jeno. “Nice cross. I thought shit like that burned your skin? You know, because you’re a demon and all that.”

Jeno’s eyes smile with him and it’s hard to remember that he’s a monster. He brushes his thumb against the small mark under his eye, shrugging. “Nah, only the blessed ones. Or, y’know, the silver ones. But this one? I just wanted to piss off the church daddy who told me that I deserved to rot in worse places than the sewer.“

You snort before you can stop yourself. “Church daddy?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Church daddy, father, same thing.” A pause. “Hey, Mark, isn’t that your dad?”

Mark avoids eye contact and nods. “Yeah, but I like, I don’t like, speak for him, y’know?” He laughs nervously.

“You don’t have to.” That’s the one you don’t recognize, glaring at Mark. “We can tell it’s what you’re thinking. You don’t even have the decency to look at us?”

“And who are you? Their vampire bitch or something?” You snap to Mark’s defense, not wanting the vampires to prey on Mark’s nerves.

The boy lunges like he’s going to attack you but Jeno grabs him by the neck. Jaemin laughs. “Careful princess, that hits a little too close to home for our little Renjun over here.” To clarify, he leans a little closer and lowers his voice. Not like it matters, the other two can hear him just fine. “Jeno got carried away while feeding the other day and turned him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and this time you don’t have a witty comeback. Vampires are monsters, yes, but they have laws. And it is very, very illegal to turn a human. “That’s-”

“Against the law?” Jeno finishes. “Yeah. It was an accident though, plus he’s from out of town! So I can’t technically get in trouble.”

“Technically.” You mock, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, we’ve got places to be so if we could speed this conversation up?”

Jaemin pouts. “So soon? You’re already late for church, why even bother going?”

You stand your ground. “Good bye, Jaemin. Make sure you do a better job of training your new puppy.” Renjun snarls at you.

“What, like how you trained your puppy?” Jaemin nods over at Mark and the boys face turns red. “Bye, y/n, Mark. I’d ask you to say hello to God for me but he doesn’t exist!”

He walks off with that as a goodbye, Renjun and Jeno on his heels. Jeno at least has the decency to smile at you and tell you to have a good rest of your day.

They’re right about one thing: going to church when you‘re already late sucks. A few people glance back at you and Mark when you sneak in, sitting in the last row. You spot your parents sitting in the front row along with Mark’s brother. Luckily none of them notice you slipping in, so they won’t know just how late you were.

Mark seems on edge and you pat his knee, frowning at how violently he flinches. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He just gives you a tight smile. Mark’s always been a nervous kid, so you figure it has to do with the little vampire interaction you just had. Or fear that his dad will yell at him for being late. They’re both pretty scary.

It’s not until after the service that you talk to your parents- your mother taking the time to hug Mark and pinch his cheeks before she even looks at you- and your father asks where you were.

“It was my fault, sir.” Mark speaks up, knowing that your parents adore him and won’t be upset. “I couldn’t find my church clothes, I forgot that they were in the wash and had to sort through all of my laundry. Y/n was an angel and stayed with me to help.”

“Huh,” Your father says, looking Mark up and down. “Well, your shoes could use a good polishing, but you look sharp, kid. Good man.” He pats Mark’s shoulder and walks off to talk to a friend. Your mother raises an eyebrow and shrugs, loading you up with tasks to take care of when you get home.

Do the dishes, fold the laundry, remember to take the store bought pie out of the container and pop it onto a plate so that it looks homemade. “Oh, and one last thing.” She stops you, turning away from her conversation about her book club meeting with some lady that she can’t stand. “I don’t want you walking through the city. Those vampires are getting braver and braver, attacking in broad daylight.”

“Okay, I’ll take the long way.” You promise her. She nods, and satisfied that you won’t die, turns back to her friends. You say goodbye to Mark and a handful of other people- most of whom you don’t like- and head home.

You have absolutely no intention of taking the long way home. It adds an extra half an hour to your walk and you swear you always get attacked by bugs. Besides, vampires might be dangerous, but it’s not like you have a high chance of encountering one. The three you’d talked to earlier were harmless, two of them attending your same university.

Jeno did medical research, occasionally stepping in to teach if the professors needed help. He’s technically a doctor, but he finds ways to multitask. The benefits of being immortal, you suppose, is that you learn a lot, especially if you’ve been alive since the 1100’s. He was nice enough by himself, though he would never answer your questions about history. Not that he wouldn’t try, but the poor guy would just get so confused that he would end up rambling about a completely unrelated topic.

Jaemin was a little different. He took classes, though his goal was to learn about interesting topics and keep up with the culture, not to fit in like Edward Cullen and prey on teenage girls. For someone so old, he’s surprisingly good at the technology classes, learning how to use a camera faster than your much younger parents. Jaemin also holds tutoring sessions for struggling students, pretty much offering help for every subject. Sometimes he assists Jeno with his research, though he never says what they’re researching. It’s always the same vague answer: medicine.

You know them pretty well, and yet you wouldn’t say that you’re friends. Vampires and humans coexist, but it’s not always that peaceful. There’s a definite divide between the two, a definite feeling of “we’re better than them” coming from both sides. And you can see why that divide is there, you can understand why.

After all, it’s not like you’re too fond of vampires yourself.

Cursed to hell, is a phrase used too often by your parents, by the church. God’s reject’s is another. And when you look at them, it’s hard to disagree with those statements.

They don’t burn in the sun but they can’t touch silver, can’t say God’s name, can’t enter a building without explicit permission. They catch on fire when they enter holy places (they’re fine to enter the one across town, but that’s another story).

Similar insults are used to describe humans. “How can you call us God’s rejects when you die so easily?” One vampire had countered when you were in middle school, pointing out that vampires couldn’t get diseases or die of natural causes like a human. He’d called you weak. You’d thrown a cross at him. Both of you had been suspended.

Still, you don’t hate vampires. And you especially can’t hate vampires now, not when you’re failing your chemistry class and your only option for help is Na Jaemin.

Mark has a different opinion. “Y/n, you can’t go to his house! He’ll kill you!”

You laugh. “Mark, come on. It’s either he kills me, or my parents kill me when they find out I wasted my tuition on a class I failed. It’ll be fine.” He still looks unhappy. You wiggle your fingers at him. “Look! I have silver rings on. I’m wearing my cross. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling your parents you were killed by a vampire, y/n.” He sounds dead serious and you raise your eyebrows. 

“Mark, I’m helping with a research project. I’m not deciding to work for the food bank.” You point out. “This is the only way I can make up my grade, Mark. It’s generous of my professor to even let me do this.” He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you, and pulls his necklace off. Walking closer, he drapes the silver cross over your head. “Fine. Just, please be careful.” You smile and pat his cheek, tucking the charm under the collar of your shirt. “I always am.”

Jaemin lives in a pretty nice house on the top of the hill, which sucks because your calves are burning by the time you get up there. It has a pretty view, though, and it’s a decent distance away from his closest neighbor. You always joke that he could kill someone up here. Going up alone, that joke doesn’t seem as funny.

He’s got an old fashioned knocker on the wooden door that you only use because you’re not too fond of digging splinters out of your hands. It makes a pretty solid sound, and it barely takes five seconds before Jaemin answers the door. He looks good, wearing a dark blue button up with his hair pushed off of his forehead. Almost like he put some effort in. He obviously catches you giving him a once over and he grins.

“Eager to see me?” You tease, stepping past him into his house. He laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course. The world revolves around you, I just had to get a glimpse.” Jaemin drawls. 

“Alright, what’s the research project?” You ask, wanting to get straight to the point. “I’m only here because I need to pass my class, Jaemin.

He takes his time flipping through a book on his coffee table before glancing up at you, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms. “The effects of vampire blood in humans.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket. “If you say that you’re making me drink your blood, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking hell, y/n. I know you humans have a problem with vampires, but I’m a researcher. I do research, and I do it just as responsibly and professionally as human researchers.” Jaemin snaps, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard him not use a flirting or teasing tone. “And besides, we already know what that would do. It would only turn you.” You swallow thickly at the thought of being turned. “Then what do you need me here for?” “We just need a few of your cells and a tiny blood sample.” Jaemin says, moving to where you stand next to the counter. “We’re researching if vampire blood has an effect on strengthening human cells, or preventing undesirable circumstances that affect humans. You know, aging, disease, the like.” He hands you some paperwork and you glance over it briefly. There’s nothing about him draining you dry of blood, so you sign it. “Great. We won’t be taking the samples today considering we’re at my house, but I’ll walk you through the basics of what we’re doing. You know, assuming that you’re smart enough to understand it.” “I’m not fucking dumb, Jaemin.” You snap, glaring at him.

“No, of course not.” He sympathises, smiling down at you. “Just a little slow. Come on y/n, you’re failing one of the easiest courses at the university. You’re not exactly smart.”

You shove the papers over to Jaemin, purposely letting your silver rings graze his exposed skin. Jaemin flinches back from your touch, a sharp hiss leaving him as he grabs at his wrist. He glares at you. “You fucking serious?”

It’s mean, but what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You meet his gaze head on, eyebrow arched. “What’s the matter, leech? Can’t take the heat?” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to ground himself. It’s probably not smart to goad him, but that’s exactly what you do. “Aww, don’t ignore me, leech. It’s rude. Didn’t your parents ever teach you any manners?”

All the air in your body leaves you with a whoosh as Jaemin pins you up against the wall, wrists held over your head by one of his hands. A dull pain radiates through your body and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your back from the impact, not that Jaemin seems to care. The boy stares down at you with dark eyes, standing way too close for comfort. 

“My parents died 300 years ago.” Jaemin snarls. “But yours are still alive. Didn’t they teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re not older than me.” The words are intended to be fierce, defiant. They come out shaky, timid. “You’re a dead man, Jaemin.”

That makes him laugh, though you don’t think he’s found your words funny. “Yeah? Do I seem dead to you?” He tightens his grip on your wrist and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, make you look him in the eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat, little girl. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You are. He knows that.

“No?” He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side before dipping down, letting his mouth hover over your neck. “Not even now?”

You shake your head, swallowing down a whimper. He’s right about your heartbeat, it’s fluttering so frantically that you can hear it in your ears, feel it under your skin. You’re scared, but not for the reasons he thinks you are.

Jaemin smiles at you, fangs on full display, and moves even closer to your neck. The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

He scrapes his fangs along your neck, an action that’s painful in the most pleasurable way, but doesn’t break the skin. His tongue darts out instead, soothing over the pain before his lips press to your skin in an open mouthed kiss. Your fingers flex above your head and you ache to touch him, to fist your hand in his soft hair and pull him closer.

A moan leaves you and he pulls away, pressing his thumb to the area. Jaemin can feel your pulse from there and he smirks at how frantically your heart beats.

“You’re not scared?” Jaemin asks, the question condescending. He doesn’t believe you. “You do realize that I could sink my fangs into your pretty little neck and drain you dry, right?”

The mention of him biting you drags a keen out of your throat, and you find yourself whimpering out a “please” before you can help yourself. It has Jaemin pausing, eyes roaming over you as he reassesses the situation.

“Oh, you really aren’t scared.” Jaemin smirks. “Who knew that you were so fucking filthy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, dipping his head down and trailing the tip of his tongue up your throat. It feels nice, so, so nice, but it’s interrupted by a burning pain, a sob ripping from you at the intensity of it.

You thrash against his hold, but then the pain starts to get replaced with a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you slowly melt into his touch, arching against him to expose more of your throat.

Jaemin pulls away eventually, licking over your wound a few times before pulling back to give you a bloody grin. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, and the bliss must be apparent on your face because Jaemin chuckles darkly before leaning back in. “You want more, don’t you?”

“Yeah, want it.” The words are breathless and slur together, your body thrumming with heat, begging for more. Jaemin does the opposite of what you want and steps away.

“Be a good girl and take those fucking rings off, then.” Jaemin commands, and you swear you’ve never moved faster than you’re moving now, carelessly dropping your jewelry to the floor. Mark’s necklace lands near his foot and he scowls at it, crushing the piece of metal beneath the heel of his shoe.

You immediately grab for him when you’re done, but Jaemin doesn’t let you pull him forward. He just scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the sofa. You end up straddling his lap, his back pressing into the couch, and he wastes no time before sinking his fangs back into your neck.

“God,” You breathe out, winding your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to you. “F-fuck, Jaem, that feels so good.”

He just hums against your throat, continuing to suck and lick at the wound. There’s a little bit of blood on his lips when he pulls away and you wipe at it with your thumb before letting the digit slip past his lips. He sucks on it slowly, gazing up at you with dark eyes, and lets his fangs graze the skin. Arousal jolts through you and you whimper, pulling your hand away and dragging him back to your neck.

“Baby wants more?” Jaemin teases, not waiting for an answer before sinking his fangs into you, this spot even more sensitive than the last. You whine loudly, tugging at his hair and feeling your eyes roll back in your head at the euphoria spreading through your body. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s so much heat coursing through you that you can barely function.

“Mhmm, yeah.” You pant out. “Want more. Oh my God Jaemin, I’m so fucking wet.”

Jaemin groans at your words, one of his hands sliding up your thigh before moving inwards, cupping your pussy over your clothes. He pulls his hand away when you try to grind down, grabbing onto your hip to stop your movements.

“No.” He growls, the simple word vibrating through your entire body and making you shake. “You come from this, nothing else.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as you hold onto him for dear life, your core clenching desperately around nothing. You hug him tighter, letting your head fall back on your shoulders to expose more of your throat, your lips parted to let Jaemin drag sound after sound of pleasure out of you. It feels good, way too good considering the action, and you lose yourself to the feeling.

The collar of your shirt is tugged down and then Jaemin’s lips are attaching to the top of your breast, fangs sinking into the delicate flesh. You keen and shove your chest further into his face, not knowing what else to do besides hold onto him for dear life. Your body feels heavy but your head feels light and it’s such a startling contrast to the euphoria coursing through your veins that it makes you dizzy. It’s hard to see straight, let alone think straight, and your pussy throbs with every little bit of blood that Jaemin takes from your body. Your hips rock against nothing but air, desperately searching for some sort of friction, something to fill your needy cunt, but you can’t find anything and it has you sobbing out in frustration.

More bite marks are left, more electricity shoots through your body, more wetness drips out of your pussy. You swear you’ve never felt this good in your life, and that’s only confirmed when Jaemin seals his lips over the first mark he left, licking and sucking at the wound until it opens all over again and you feel yourself falling, white flashing behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life crashes over you. You grab at Jaemin as tightly as you can, screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he drags out your pleasure, lets you get high off all of his kisses and bites.

It lasts forever, and it takes even longer for you to come down to yourself, Jaemin stroking your hair and your back. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his face clean and dry of any blood. It takes you a while to notice that there’s an ice pack on your neck and a plate of food on the table in front of you, and you vaguely wonder how long you were out for if Jaemin had time to do all of this for you.

“Don’t move too fast, baby.” Jaemin cautions, noticing you struggling to sit up. “I took way more blood than I meant to, you’re gonna feel a little weak.” “A little?” Your muscles feel like jelly when you try to push yourself off of him and you collapse back onto Jaemin’s chest with a soft groan. Jaemin huffs a laugh and helps you sit up, turning you around on his lap so that your back is to his chest. He drops a soft kiss to your ear and your eyelids flutter. 

“Here, take these.” Pills are dropped into your hand, a bottle of some energy drink you don’t recognize. “It’ll replace all the nutrients and stuff you lost.” Jaemin watches you down the drink in one go, tossing it across the room when you hand the empty bottle back to him. “How are you feeling?”

Your vision is much clearer than it was, though you still feel lethargic and would like to do nothing except lay down in a soft bed for the rest of your life. “My head hurts.” Jaemin hums. “Okay. I would rattle off some instructions for you to follow but I know it’ll just make your headache worse. I’ll write them down for you instead, how’s that.” “You’re so self aware.” Reality hits you when you feel the bruises on your throat, on your chest, and realize that yes, all of that did just happen. “Um. I didn’t know it could feel that-” You trail off, hand waving vaguely in the air. “Good?” Jaemin offers, laughing when you nod. “Mhmm, did they not tell you about that? I’m sure they make it sound like being bitten by a vampire is the worst thing imaginable at that fancy church you go to.” You look away, embarrassed, and Jaemin laughs. “You know that humans make drugs out of our saliva, right? That’s why there are hunters.” Your eyes shoot open in alarm. “Really? That’s awful.”

 Jaemin hums, nodding. “Yeah, well, when it’s profitable...” He laughs bitterly. “Anyways, it’s an expensive drug. And you just got that shit for free.”

“I feel so honored.” You laugh, snuggling into him. He pushes you back. 

“Y/n, I need you to understand something.” Jaemin says, tone suddenly serious. His eyes burn straight into your soul. “That was a mistake. I’m not- we can’t do that again.”

It shouldn’t hurt you. What you just did is considered shameful by many, you should be relieved that he’s telling you it can’t happen again. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with a vampire. “Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod, looking away from his intense gaze to blink back your tears. “Yeah, we just got carried away.” Jaemin looks like he wants to say something else, lips parting for a second before shaking his head, offering a tight smile instead. “We got everything done that we needed to get done. You should rest now.” 

He doesn’t mean now as in right this second, which he made especially clear after telling you that it was a mistake, but you can’t help it. You’re asleep in seconds.

When you wake up for the second time, Jaemin is nowhere to be found. You’re in your own bed, tucked in nice and neatly, and you smile as you realize it meant that the vampire had carried you home. There’s the list of instructions that he’d promised you on your nightstand, signed with nearly illegible hand-writing. Your smile grows before promptly dropping off. Vampires can’t get into a house without being invited. You’ve never invited him in, which means that he must’ve either asked permission from Mark or your parents. Neither is good.

The gravity of the situation hits you when Mark walks into your room, jaw set, arms crossed. He blanches when he sees your neck, the sight clearly making him uncomfortable. “Holy- y/n, I told you that you couldn’t trust Jaemin. You’re lucky I was here when you brought you home because I can guarantee your parents would react way worse than me.”

“Jaemin was fine. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” You see the exact moment that those words process in Mark’s mind, his face going from worried to angry.

“You let him drink from you? What were you thinking? Y/n, you look like you got mauled.” Mark sounds disgusted and you try not to shrink into yourself.

The bruises ache when you press over one of them and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you at how it makes you shiver. “Relax, it’s not like I let him turn me. We just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Mark, it felt so good.” Your eyelids flutter shut at the memory, snapping back open when Mark scoffs.

“So what? You want to be their blood bag now?” Mark’s voice rises in pitch as he yells and the sound grates on your nerves. “Wanna be a vampire whore for the rest of your life? Live in a dusty ass attic and let whoever walks by have a go at you?” “Mark, what- do you hear yourself? What the fuck is your problem?” Mark’s been your best friend since you were five. Never, never, have you heard him talk like this. It hurts.

“Do I hear myself? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that. Here you are, creaming yourself while talking about letting some fucking, some bloodsucker tear your throat open! It’s disgusting.” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as Do-” He cuts himself off suddenly, but you know what he was about to say. “Just as bad as who? Donghyuck?” You shake your head, feeling hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. “It must run in the family to become filthy disappointments, then.”

Mark’s eyes soften and he grabs your wrist, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb. “It’s not too late for you. Let’s go to the church, you can pray for forgiveness.”

You feel numb when you nod, letting Mark wrap a scarf around your neck and lead you down the road. He sits next to you in the pews, rubbing your shoulder while you rest your forehead on your hands, pretending to pray. But you can’t focus, can’t stop thinking about your brother.

Donghyuck was Mark’s best friend before you were. The three of you would hang out a lot, though you only joined the two because as Donghyuck’s younger sister, he felt obligated to include you. The two boys were inseparable, and then one day, they weren’t.

Your parents say that he was tainted by the devil. Mark’s father says that he betrayed God. You think Donghyuck simply fell in love. And love is a beautiful thing, but not when it’s between a vampire and a human. Your brother was forced to choose between his family and his love.

In the end, he chose love. 

That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to stop thinking about your brother. If he’s alive, if he’s a vampire. If he’s dead. What you would do in his situation. Not that it matters, because you wouldn’t fall in love with a vampire, but you can’t help but wonder. Is it really that bad? They were once human, too. 

The thought doesn’t leave your mind even when you go to the lab, meeting an uncharacteristically quiet Jaemin, and a very excited looking Jeno. “Y/n! Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yeah, well, gotta pass my classes somehow.” You laugh. Jaemin doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at him, keeping his gaze just a little too low and frowning. 

“Seriously though, this is great. I’ve been trying to get permission for this experiment for ages, the fact that the administration finally caved is insane.” Jeno says, turning to ruffle through some papers on the desk. You shoot a curious glance at Jaemin, finally realizing that he’s staring at your neck. Or well, your covered neck. He’s trying to see the marks. With a glance towards Jeno, you carefully slide the fabric of your turtle neck down, laughing silently at how Jaemin inhales sharply, lips parting slightly. You yank it back up when Jeno turns around. “Jaemin informed you of the experiment, correct?” You shoot Jaemin a look. “Yeah! You just need to take a couple of blood samples, right?” Jeno shakes his head, tilting his head at Jaemin. “Not exactly. We’re going to need you to take microdoses of vampire blood.”

It takes a moment to register. “You want me to drink vampire blood?” You screech, eyes bulging. “That’s going to turn me!” Jeno shakes his head, laughing. “With the amount we’re giving you? No. It’ll only turn you if a vampire drinks your blood, and you die. You’ll be fine.” Next to you, Jaemin stiffens. You bite your lip. “Um. Like at the same time, or?” “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time. If you’ve been bitten before, you can’t drink any blood or you’ll be turned. But again, that’s only if you die.” Jeno tilts his head. “Have you been bitten before?” “Jeno.” Jaemin draws his attention away before you can respond. “It’s just a microdose, right? Like, barely enough to have an effect?” He considers this. “Well, I mean, not enough to have negative effects.” 

You and Jaemin share a long look. Jaemin had drunk your blood not even a week earlier. It's dangerous. But it’s a small amount. Jeno said there wouldn’t be any negative effects. And you can’t fail this class. You send Jaemin a pleading look. Jaemin swallows thickly and looks back to Jeno.

“She’ll be fine?” Jaemin’s voice is shaky. 

Jeno nods. “Caring for a human? That’s odd, coming from you. But yeah, she’ll be fine.”

You exhale heavily. “I’ll do it.”

There are more papers to be signed, more blood to be drawn. Though this time Jeno takes it in a much more professional manner, drawing it out and putting it into a test tube. Next to you, Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut and you watch his jaw clench. You want to tease him but you can’t, not in front of Jeno.

Despite Jeno’s reassurances, the worry doesn’t leave you. He doesn’t know what you and Jaemin did, doesn’t know that you’ve been bitten by a vampire. And maybe it doesn’t matter- it’s not like you’re going to die or anything, which is what needs to happen for you to turn- but you need some sort of comfort. 

That’s how you end up bailing on your Friday night dinner with Mark’s family, saying that you need to finish a project that’s due that night. Your parents roll their eyes and scold you for not taking your studies seriously, but let you skip the dinner. Mark shakes his head at you, disapproving of you working with a vampire, but keeps his mouth shut. 

If Jaemin’s surprised when you show up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He just smirks at you, leaning against the door frame. “Hey blood bag.” You scoff and shove past him into the house, dropping down onto the sofa you sat on last time. “When did you start calling me that, leech?”

“When you let me drink from you.” Jaemin says plainly, sitting next to you. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but-” “But we didn’t tell Jeno you drank from me.” You interrupt. “We need to tell him. He’s been waiting forever for this, he’ll be devastated if we ruin it.”

Jaemin nods, considering it. “Y/n, you know you’ll get kicked off the project if we tell him, right?” You nod, biting your lip. “Look, Jeno’s been my best friend for hundreds of years. I hate keeping this from him more than you do.” “Then why are you?” It doesn’t make sense. You’re certainly not friends, or at least you weren’t before last week. 

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are dark and it looks like there’s a war raging behind them, but he doesn’t elaborate on what’s bothering him. The sharp points of his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bites it nervously, blood beading at the cut when he finally looks back at you.

You don’t think when you bring your thumb up to swipe at his lower lip, skin coming away red. Jaemin watches in fascination as you bring the digit up to your own mouth, sliding it past your lips, sucking the blood away. He swallows thickly.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” You ask, glancing from his lips to his face. He shakes his head gently.

“It feels good for you because of our saliva.” Jaemin explains. “But it doesn’t feel bad when you do it, it’s just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand as if trying to pull the words out of thin air. “It’s very intimate.”

He licks his lips, then, digs his teeth back into his bottom lip. It’s a subconscious movement but you still lean in to press a kiss over where the blood pricks up, nipping just hard enough to have a growl rumbling in Jaemin’s chest before soothing the wound with your tongue. You pull away and smile, licking the blood off of your lips. 

You don’t even have time to make a witty remark over how affected Jaemin looks because he’s pulling you onto his lap, crashing your lips together with enough force that you’re sure they’ll bruise. It draws a moan from you and Jaemin eagerly drinks it in, fisting his hand in your hair and deepening the kiss. 

A gasp leaves you when he pulls away, trails his lips down your throat. You tense in anticipation, a whine getting trapped in your throat when his fangs just barely scrape the skin. He leaves a wet kiss there, pulling away to look up at you. “Want me to bite you, baby?”

“God, yeah.” You moan out, tilting your head to expose more of your neck. 

“Ah, I’d rather you didn’t say that name in my house.” Jaemin laughs. He moves back to your throat, digging his fangs into the spot he’d marked. There’s less pain this time, pleasure coursing through you almost instantly. You whine and tighten your grip on his hair.

Electricity runs through your veins as Jaemin takes what he wants, marking up your body. You breathe out something along the lines of “want more” and Jaemin takes it to heart, scooping you up and carrying you to his room in record time. He tosses you onto the mattress, crawling over you not even a second later to press his lips to yours. 

He fits himself easily between your legs, rocking his hips down in a rare show of desperation. You can feel exactly how affected he is, his hardness pressing deliciously against your core. Another plea of “more” is whispered against his lips and he doesn’t need any more encouragement, pulling away to move further down your body. He kisses and nips his way down your torso, pushing your shirt up to reveal more skin to him, dropping kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants. Your core throbs at the feeling of having him so close to you and you squirm, trying to spread your legs more, trying to articulate that you need something, anything. 

“J-Jaemin, take them off.” You whine, pushing at the waistband. “I need you.”

The coldness of his hands brushing against your skin when he drags your pants down has you shivering, squirming. He tosses your clothing to the floor and wastes no time attaching his lips to the inside of your thigh, holding you down when you squirm. 

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks, concern mixing with his arousal. He brushes his index finger over your pussy, making your back arch in an effort to get him closer to where you need him. 

“More than.” Despite your assurances, Jaemin doesn’t touch you. He moves his hand up to your abdomen, flattening his palm to keep you pinned down. You whine in annoyance, but the teeth dragging over your inner thigh has you shutting up. A gasp leaves you before he even sinks his fangs in, your pussy absolutely throbbing with need. He presses another gentle kiss to the skin and, raising his gaze to make eye contact with you, bites you.

It’s more intense than when he bit your neck or your chest. It sets your body on fire in the best of ways, leaves you writhing under his touch. Your eyes roll in your head and your hands flail in an effort to grab something, anything to ground yourself. It’s amazing, and just when you think you’ve reached heaven, he touches you.

You’re soaking wet and Jaemin’s fingers slide into you effortlessly, fill you up so well. It’s too much effort to keep your eyes open and so you let them drift shut, let yourself fall into the bliss. There’s pressure against your lips and you open your eyes to find Jaemin hovering over you, sliding two fingers past your lips. You didn’t even realize he’d stopped biting you.

“Suck.” He commands, and who are you to disobey? You wrap your lips around the digits and hum at the taste of yourself, at the weight of them in your mouth. “Taste good, baby?” “Mhmm, yeah.” Your words are slurred around the digits and you suck even harder around them, letting your tongue trace patterns around them. Jaemin swears softly and grinds down against your thigh. 

He presses one more kiss to your lips before sliding down your body. “My turn to taste.”

Maybe there should be some sort of alarm going through your system when Jaemin lowers his mouth to your core. Some sort of reminder that he has some very sharp fangs, that he has just bit you in multiple places, and that his fangs are right in the place that fangs should never be. But it feels heavenly when he licks a stripe between your folds, when he fucks his tongue into your hole. His hands keep you pinned to the mattress, super strength coming in handy to control your squirming. 

The pleasure consumes you and it’s so much, too much, and your eyes want to squeeze shut but Jaemin looks up at you and his gaze is magnetic, making it impossible to look away from him. Your body’s on fire, burning brighter with every flick of his tongue, every moan he lets out into your core. He pulls away to drop his head to the apex of your thigh, digging his fangs into the delicate skin there, and you can’t fight the scream that rips from your throat. You’re babbling, chanting incoherent words as you try to explain how good it feels, how you never want him to stop. His hair is soft in your grip and it’s the only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing preventing you from drowning in pleasure. 

“You taste so good, baby.” Jaemin moans, pulling away momentarily to make a show of licking his lips. “Everything about you is so delicious.” He returns to your core, lapping at your hole before flicking his tongue over your clit, laughing at how your body jolts. There’s nothing but hunger in his eyes as he sucks your clit between his lips, fucking two fingers into your needy cunt. He does it again, hitting all of your sensitive spots, making you scream with bliss as you finally tip over the edge. 

Wave after wave of euphoria crash into you and your lungs burn as your gasp for air. You’re drowning in the best way possible, surrounded by nothing but pleasure and Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

He works you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, hands smoothing over your thighs to bring you back down. You manage to find enough strength to shove at his head when it gets to be too much, tiredly sinking into the mattress when he pulls away. Jaemin wipes at his mouth and bends down to kiss you lazily, nipping at your lip just to hear you whine. He smooths your hair down and brushes a few strands out of your face, smiling down at how fucked out you are. And you’d be content to lay wrapped in his arms, with Jaemin cooing softly at how pretty you are and petting your head, but you can feel how hard he is.

“Jaemin,” You murmur, shifting in his hold. “Jaem, wanna make you feel good.” “It’s alright, you don’t h- oh, shit baby- you don’t have to.” He has to fight to get the words out, a groan interrupting his sentence when you grab at his cock. You pout at him and manage to tug his pants down just enough for you to pull him out. 

“But I want to.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss. Jaemin doesn’t bother replying, just presses his lips back to yours and melts into your touch. The way you jerk him off is lazy, your energy drained from how intense your orgasm was. Though with the way Jaemin groans against your lips and tightens his grip on your hip, you don’t think that he minds.

He moans your name when he comes, a beautiful sound that has your stomach twisting with heat. White spills over your knuckles and onto his stomach and you bring your hand up to your mouth, licking at it curiously. Jaemin watches you with heavy lids before collapsing onto the mattress. 

“Fuck,” He sighs, eyelids drifting shut. “Why’re you so good to me?” “Why are you so good to me?” You mumble back in response, curling up into him. “Thanks for not biting my pussy.” Something  about that sets Jaemin off and his body shakes with the laughter running through him. A giggle leaves you. “What?” Jaemin shakes his head, still laughing. “Nothing. Come on, gotta get you some food.” 

And that’s how it goes. You and Jaemin continue to hook up, although he does end up saying ‘fuck it’ and attempting to actually teach you chemistry. Despite Mark’s fears, he doesn’t end up killing you. He’s a lot of fun to be around, plus he keeps his pantry stocked with various snacks. Sometimes he even cooks for you, if he’s feeling nice.

“What’s a vampire doing with all this food?” You ask one day, watching him make fried rice. He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the pan and offering you a shrug, though you swear you see him blush. 

Your professor raises your grade to a C. It’s not stellar but it also isn’t failing, which you will happily take. There’s only a little bit of guilt when she beams at you while telling you how happy Jeno is with your dedication to the project. 

Jeno continues to take blood samples, and you continue to not tell him that you’ve been bitten. It eats you up inside, but Jaemin’s always there to reassure you. Whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself more is up for debate.

Everything stays the same except for Mark.

He gets more distant, grows a little more resentful. There’s no smiles or teasing jokes, except for the polite ones he flashes in front of your parents. He starts to make up lies, too, which is something you promised to never do. Excuses to get him out of plans, saying there’s nothing wrong. And your best friend, the most timid, nicest boy you’ve ever met, begins to pick petty fights with you.

You’re over it, and it bothers you even if you try not to let it show. Jaemin rubs your back and tells you it’ll be okay, but you know it won’t. Because Jaemin’s the reason that Mark’s distant. And you have no plans to stop seeing him.

Talking to Jaemin, you’re sure Mark would have liked him if the circumstances were different. If Mark didn’t hate vampires so much, or if Jaemin were just a regular human college student like you. But those aren’t the circumstances, and so you have to deal with Mark’s whiny ass showing up at your door to drag you to church.

“Mark, it’s Thursday night.” You groan, shaking your textbook at him. “I have work to do!” 

“Yeah, you also have praying to do.” Mark snaps, grabbing the book out of your hands. “Not like you even understand this.”

Which, ouch, that kind of hurts. Especially when Mark knows that you’re frustrated that you can’t get the subject down even though you try. You glare at him and reach for the book. “Mark, give it back. And I actually do understand this, Jaemin’s been helping-” “Helping what? Taint you? Turn you into one of their blood whores?” Mark grabs the book back and throws it across the room. “Y/n, come on. I’m not letting this happen to you too.” He pulls you after him despite your grumbling, though he at least has the decency to let you put shoes on. Just because you go freely doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, complaining as Mark drags you through the city. “Jesus Christ Mark, has it ever occurred to you that Donghyuck had free will? That he willingly chose to be with her because he loved her?” You’re fed up with Mark, fed up with everyone. “God Mark, they’re not that bad!” Mark stares at you for a moment. “What, they’re brainwashing you too? How is it that both you and your brother are so dumb? I know you weren’t raised like this.”

“Well at least I wasn’t raised to be such an ignorant asshole.” You snap. “I have the ability to make my own decisions, something you apparently lack.” “Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark stops walking suddenly, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer. You open your mouth to yell at him when a flash of movement catches your eyes. Squinting, you make out a group of guys, and they’re close enough that you can hear them laughing when one of them wipes… is that blood on his mouth? “Mark, we have to go.” You whisper. The vampires don’t see you and you’re hoping that you can get the two of you out of there safely. “Come on-” “No, tell me what you mean!” Mark yells, stubbornly standing in place. You groan and try to drag him away but he doesn’t budge. “Come on y/n, tell me what you fucking mean.” You shoot a worried glance over your shoulder, surprised when you don’t see the vampires. There’s a second of relief, lasting only until you turn around to find them standing right behind Mark. You squeak in surprise. Mark freezes too, one of the men having grabbed him by the shoulders. His face presses way too close to Mark’s neck and you jump when you feel hands on your own shoulders.

“Aww, lover’s spat?” The guy holding Mark laughs. “That’s okay, we’ve all been there, right guys?” The rest of his friends cackle in the creepiest way that you can imagine. “Come on, we can resolve this.” You and Mark look back and forth between each other worriedly. There’s no way out of this, you realize. No way to even try. 

“Don’t you wanna know how we can resolve this?” This time the guy holding you speaks and it’s so close to your ear that you flinch, nearly jumping out of your skin. He laughs and his fangs graze your skin, but it doesn’t send pleasure through you like when Jaemin does it. It sends chills down your spine, makes you want to cry. “Answer me.” “N-no.” You stutter out, eyes squeezed shut in fear. “Please, just let us go.” The guy sighs and lets go of you. “Alright.” You and Mark share a look before bolting, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Freedom only lasts for a second before you’re being grabbed again, yanked backwards. 

“Stupid girl. I don’t appreciate being told no.” You whimper and you can hear Mark screaming your name, screaming for help, screaming for anything.

It’s the last thing you hear.

“Jaemin, you’re an idiot. Literally the dumbest person I know.” There’s a familiar voice swimming through your head and you try to move towards it, finding your entire body feels drained.

“Yes, I’ve been told.” Is that Jaemin’s voice? It sounds a lot clearer, drags you out of the darkness. “But look, it ended up being good, right? She’s alive.” You finally manage to pry your eyes open and immediately regret it, slamming them shut and curling into yourself. A groan leaves you and the two stop talking. “Y/N? Baby, it’s me.” There’s a hand on your cheek, brushing against the skin gently, and you press into his touch. “How are you feeling?” “Bad.” You croak out through a dry throat, cringing at how dry it feels. Jaemin laughs softly and something presses to your lips. “Here, drink this.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you get the first taste, and then suddenly you find the strength in your body to take gulp after gulp of the drink. It brings a little bit of warmth to your body, makes you feel less achy. You even manage to pry your eyelids open.

Jeno and Jaemin greet you, both men looking relieved. Jaemin beams at you, dipping down for a kiss. “Hey baby.” “What happened?” You frown, trying to remember how you got to Jaemin’s couch. “Did I- I was walking to the church and we were attacked.” Oh shit, you weren’t alone. You search frantically around the room. “Did Mark- is he okay?” The thought of your best friend- no matter how strained your relationship was at the end- dying is too much for you to handle. 

Jaemin smiles. “He’s the one that brought you to me.”

“He’s okay?” Jeno nods in confirmation.

“They only wanted to kill for fun, guess you were enough.” Jeno says. “Speaking of killing, Jaemin has a lot of explaining to do. And since I don’t trust him to do a good job, I’m going to stay here!” You look between the two. “Kill? Am I- I’m dead?” Jaemin makes a face. “Fucking- I’m a vampire?” Your words come out shrill and the two boys cringe.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “My bad. But, um, I’ll take care of you! Don’t worry.” Then, to Jeno: “Come on man, can’t we have a second of peace? I literally never thought I was going to see her again.” Jeno sighs, glaring at his friend before walking away. “Dramatic.” 

You’re in Jaemin’s arms in the next second, held close to his chest. “Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and he keeps his face pressed into your neck. “This is all my fault, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.” “We’ll figure it out later.” You tug at his hair to get him to look you in the eyes. “I almost died, Jaemin. Give me a headache later. Right now…” You trail off, letting your lips stretch wide. “Kiss me.” It draws a snort from Jaemin. “You were dead like an hour ago and now you want to fuck?” “No!” You whine and smack his chest. “I just want a kiss, get your mind out of the gutter.” Jaemin teases you some more, making you laugh and smack him to stop before you finally say fuck it and pull him closer, smashing your lips together. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. You have a lot to worry about, but you’ve also got all the time in the world to worry about it. It makes you sick to think about, and for now, you want to just relax. Not that Jaemin seems to mind, happily letting you curl into his chest, stroking your head. You’re not alone, you have Jaemin, and you know he’ll help you through this.

+ You’re not expecting a welcome home party. You’re also not expecting to find all of your belongings scattered across the front yard, having very clearly been chucked from your bedroom window. 

“Lovely.” You scoff, staring at the mess. The front door has the biggest cross you’ve ever seen nailed to it, complete with the silver door knob that you promptly burn yourself on. You stare at the door, wondering if you should knock. It swings open before you make your mind up.

Mark stares back at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Mark.” You smile, tight lipped. “Jaemin told me you saved me.”

Mark looks like he’s about to say something but then his mouth closes and he shakes his head. “Y/n, you- you’re a vampire now. I can’t.” Mark doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” You mock, shaking your head. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would fucking look me in the eyes.” He doesn’t. “You know it’s your fault I’m like this, right?” That gets him to look up at you. There’s fire in his eyes this time. “No, it’s your fault for whoring around with vampires.” You shake your head. “Who made me go to church that night?” He looks away and doesn’t answer the question. “Good bye, Mark.”

[vladdocs]

Dracula's Life from 7 to 14 - Part 1 By Lyzhina Svetlana Sergeevna (Лыжина Светлана Сергеевна) Original in Russian: http://samlib.ru/l/lyzhina_s_s/dracula_7_14_1.shtml Annotation: Dracula's life from age 7 to 14 is the darkest period in his biography. Most authors do not even try to look into this darkness, but jump straight from childhood in Transylvania to the Turkish captivity, mentioning growing up as far as it goes. I will not, however, do so... The period from age 7 to 14 is important primarily because this is when Dracula began to realize himself as a Romanian. Before the age of 7, the world is pretty narrow for a person: mom, dad, grandparents and other relatives. Before the age of 7, a child does not really care about his own nationality, because he does not yet fully understand what it is. But after the age of 7, the horizons widen, and such notions as "small motherland" and "big motherland" appear. Dracula saw his Romanian homeland for the first time when he was about 7 years old, and, apparently, this first meeting made a strong impression on him. First time in his homeland In the summer of 1436, Dracula's father took over the Romanian throne and moved his family from Sighisoara to Tirgoviste, the Romanian capital of that time, no later than the fall of the same year. As a result, the life of the 7-year-old Dracula changed abruptly: 1) he now heard Romanian speech not only from his household, but also from everyone around him. 2) Home services were replaced by visits to the temple, rich and beautiful, and the services there were conducted to the highest standard, as a well staged theatrical performance. 3) The attitude of those around him changed. Everybody bowed to little Dracula like to the king's son, and even his peers, 7-year old boys like him, were obliged to bow. 4) the way of life changed - many new servants appeared, and the dwelling became much more spacious. _ _ _ _ Historical note: The house in Sighisoara was relatively small - 25x11 m in length and width, if we do not count the inner courtyard and the side passageway. At the same time the palace in Targoviste in the mid 1430s was 32x29 meters in length and width. It is not difficult to calculate that in terms of area it was almost twice as big as the house in Sigishoara. And that again without taking into account the adjoining territory enclosed by a fortress wall of 250x20 m. On this territory there was a temple built specially for the prince and his courtiers, as well as household premises. In addition there were extensive gardens and vegetable gardens, as well as ponds for trout breeding. They were necessary because the palace regularly hosted feasts at which enormous quantities of all kinds of food were eaten. _ _ _ _ We cannot say whether Dracula accepted his new life with delight or was embarrassed, but the boy saw the mood of his parents, who were clearly happy about what was happening. This should have led the child to believe that he, too, should be happy. Intensified Learning The only thing that definitely did not make little Dracula happy was his studies, because after he moved to Targoviste, his education was taken seriously. In textbooks on the history of pedagogy, you can read that all countries that have adopted the culture of the Byzantine Empire, along with Orthodoxy, adopted the system of teaching children. Romania is no exception in this sense. As in all other Orthodox countries, teaching followed the principles formulated by John Chrysostom: 1) simplicity of life, without excesses (so that the child would not fall into a dependence on comfort); 2) education with an emphasis on spiritual values (and contempt for material things); 3) strict control (parents watch where the child goes, what he/she does, what he/she says) 4) possibility of corporal punishment in case of disobedience (Chrysostom suggests "flogging"). Education had three levels: primary, secondary, and higher. They began to study (I repeat) at the age of 6-7 years old. Primary education was completed before the age of 12. Secondary education was

completed at the age of 17. It turns out that Dracula never received a higher education, because he was sent to the Turks at the age of about 14. No one in Turkey followed the Byzantine system of education. Dracula's higher education was replaced by lessons in the Turkish language and Turkish customs... But back to Dracula's elementary education. Elementary School Elementary education included four subjects: - arithmetic (counting on fingers, on pebbles, and in mind), - grammar (in this case Slavonic), - rhetoric, - philosophy (philosophy in the Middle Ages was perceived as the first step toward the study of "higher philosophy" - theology). The process of teaching itself was a little different from today - the children sat together, but each student was taught separately by the teacher. The grammar was taught on the basis of the texts of the Holy Scriptures and the lives of the saints. Rhetoric was modeled on the works of the same John Chrysostom. In the beginning, during the lessons of rhetoric children were supposed to retell the contents of texts and tell them by heart, and when children accumulated enough knowledge, the teacher arranged eloquence contests between pupils, where they were supposed to support their words with appropriate quotations. It is difficult to say whether Dracula competed with his elder brother, because the practice of competitions existed only in Byzantium, but, for example, in Russia such competitions did not exist. In addition, all forms of rivalry between Dracula and his older brother should have been opposed by the tutors, because in the family of Dracula on the paternal line practiced a special system of state management - the king had a co-helper in the person of the younger brother. About this writes researcher M.Kazaku. Dracula's grandfather Mircea the Old was at one time co-ruler of his elder brother Dan, and when his brother died, Mircea ruled alone. Dracula's father, Dracul Sr. was at one time co-ruler of his older brother Mihai, and when Mihai died, Dracul Sr. ruled alone. Dracula himself must also have been indoctrinated from a young age to be his brother's helper. An assistant, not a rival! All training and education of Dracula should be subordinated to this idea - Dracula should be prepared to help his brother and carry out all his orders, and in case of his brother's death he should continue his work. That is to say, he should continue it, and not do anything on his own! Dracula could think of no other fate, for he had before him the example of his father and grandfather, and in the Middle Ages the power of tradition was unusually strong. Apparently, when Dracula was sent as a hostage to the Sultan, he was encouraged by the same words about the need to help the elders: "Living with the Sultan, you will help your father and older brother a lot. And Dracula must have believed it, but later, when his father and older brother died suddenly, Dracula could not immediately get his bearings. He found himself in a role as an older man for which he was not at all prepared. He had no time to be instructed what to do and how to do it, so he had to decide everything on his own, to break his usual worldview and generally learn to be a leader... But here we are, once again, off-topic. Middle School According to the Byzantine system, the secondary level of education included the study of three new subjects: geometry, music, astronomy. Geometry, Dracula and his brother, of course, studied. In addition, it is known that as early as the 11th or 12th century, a collection of quotations from Aristotle about mathematics appeared in Slavic. These quotations together formed a coherent system, so that children in Slavic countries studied from this collection as from a textbook. Music in those days meant learning church singing, but it is unlikely that Dracula and his brother had time for that, because the Byzantine educational system in the Middle Ages did NOT include physical training, and sovereign's children needed this training. The physical training in the case of Dracula and his

brother was military training, where the pupil had to master 3 skills: 1) the ability to fight on foot; 2) the ability to fight on horseback; 3) the ability to command an army so as to lead it to victory. Perhaps the list of disciplines Dracula had to study after the age of 12 also included history and politics. Perhaps, the list also included Latin, but here we can not say anything for sure, because according to the Byzantine system of education all this (Latin, history, politics) belonged to the higher level of education, which, as we know, due to a number of tragic circumstances Dracula did not reach. Practical results of "Byzantine" education In a number of articles about Dracula one can read that he was supposedly a savage and ignorant - a kind of Neanderthal, but not with a club, but with a stake, who got an idea of culture only thanks to the years spent in "enlightened" Turkey. However, all this is nonsense! Dracula was educated before Turkey, and everything I've said here about the Byzantine system of education used in Romania for the education of the sovereign's children - not just a guesswork. All of this is confirmed in historical documents. From the texts that have survived from the time of Dracula, we can see that the Romanian rulers were literate people, read spiritual literature and were able to speak beautifully. For example, the beginning of the charter from May 20, 1388, which was dictated by the grandfather of Dracula, Mircea the Old. This charter is a gift to the monastery, but before going on to enumerate what will be given to the monastery, the prince reasons about God as well as a theologian: "Whom the Spirit of God guides, they are the sons of God, says the holy apostle, and to him echoes every one who values truth and does good works, desiring to receive eternal life - to leave earthly things on earth for the reward in heaven. Blessed are those who have heard the good voice, for they hear it always: "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. In the same way, I, believing in Christ God and Christ-loving and autocratic voivode and lord of all the land of Ugrovlakh, <...> as much as I can, want to follow this voice and glorify God, who glorified me and in glory enthroned me on the throne of my parents". That's how he bent it! Here are the results of the rhetoric lessons, which were part of the first level of education according to the Byzantine system! No wonder that everyone liked these words of Mircea. It is no coincidence that in his letter of December 12, 1424, uncle of Dracula, Prince Dan II, reproduces them, and then another relative of Dracula, Prince Alexander Aldea, does the same in his letter of June 25, 1436. Dracula himself quotes this statement in his charter of April 16, 1457. And here is how Dracula's father weaves verbal lace in his letter of August 2, 1439: "And who dares <... > violate my approval and command, such let the Lord God strike with his terrible and just judgment, and let the Holy Lady of the Theotokos speak against this man, and let him be damned on behalf of the seven holy ecumenical councils, and let him be counted among those who, like Judas and Arius, denied the Lord, and all those who betrayed the Lord to death". Of course, many edicts in those days ended with a standard curse on possible violators, but Dracula's father added to this curse, which most modern readers can appreciate only after they look in an encyclopedia. Can you tell at a glance what "ecumenical councils" and "Arian heresy" are? But Dracula's father could! And, apparently, he knew church history. That is, he was highly educated. As for Dracula himself, we can judge the level of his education by his statements, which, of course, distorted by numerous retellings, but the essence remains. For example, the episode with the Turkish ambassadors who did not remove their headdresses under the pretext that the "law" forbade. "And I want to follow your law," says Dracula, "so that you may hold fast to it. In doing so, he almost quotes

the Gospel, which says, "I have not come to break the law, but to fulfill it." And think of the burned beggars: "...I delivered them, so that they would not suffer in this world from poverty or from disease. The very course of Dracula's reasoning leads us to believe that this ruler in his time studied both the Holy Scriptures and rhetoric. Travels around the country In addition to "book sciences" and "warfare" in Dracula's education was one more component, and a very important one - study tours around the country, i.e. in Romania. However, Dracula had to perceive these trips in a different way than his older brother, because the older brother was prepared for the role of a ruler, and Dracula - for the role of an assistant to the ruler. Dracula's older brother perceived cities, villages, fields and forests as his future property. Dracula, seeing all the same, perceived it as his brother's property to be protected. If Dracula's older brother thought, "All this exists for me - for my needs and my pleasure," then Dracula thought, "I must take care of the preservation of it all. This is why in Dracula's behavior when he reached adulthood we find a motive not at all characteristic of the rulers of that time - the motive of service to one's country. Dracula was not brought up as a ruler, so even when he became a ruler, he did not get rid of the attitude that was hammered into his head throughout his childhood and adolescence - you were born to serve and help. He did all those things he did - eradicating crime, winning favourable trade conditions for Romanian merchants, waging war against the Turks - not for himself and not even for specific people. He did it all for Romania, which he called his "patrimony," not in the sense of his ownership of the land, but in the sense of his concern for it. This is how Dracula's notion of homeland was formed, which was Romania, although his early childhood took place in Transylvania.

[simstomaggie]

St. Laurence Church, Grantbury, After Service

King James: ... and you are sure the Ambassador of Caxony is on the list for the ball? I did not catch his name there.

Princess Charlotte: I am quite sure. I had Baroness Tapper look over it with the Court Steward and they would not forget his Excellency. Truly, Papa, I have everything under control, you need not worry.

King James: Forgive your old Papa, dearest, it is odd not to be at war anymore, and to be "just" king again...

...

Prince Henry: ... and I must say, your behavior just now was unacceptable as well. The entire church must have heard you yawn several times!

Princess Valeria: Heavens, the service must have been quite a bore if people were paying attention to that.

Prince Henry: For God's sake, child, you should be a role model! I will not suffer you behaving this way!

...

Prince Alexander: So our goal should be to find a suitable lady for Christian, at least for a flirt, so that-

Prince Christian: No...

Prince Alexander: - so that he may practice a little bit. You know, Lily, he is terribly shy, and does not know how to speak to a female-

Prince Christian: ... please, no...

Prince Alexander: - and before he marries, he should truly find out how to open his mouth, don't you think?

Lady Lilian: Oh I... well... if I can help...

Prince Charles: May I walk with you?

Princess Juliet: Of course, if you wish.

Prince Charles: It's a lovely day, isn't it?

Princess Juliet: Oh yes. The weather here in Grantbury is always a bit warmer than at home, so these fall days are wonderful.

Prince Charles: We hardly had a moment to speak last night. You play the piano quite beautifully.

Princess Juliet: Oh thank you. When I lived in Caxony, Aunt Mary hired a famous pianist to teach us all, without him I would have been lost. What about you? Have you learned any instruments?

Prince Charles: No. Our tutor did not think it suitable for us, but he taught us folk songs to sing, as well as some shanties that were truly unsuitable.

Prince Charles: Do you have other pastimes you enjoy?

Princess Juliet: I enjoy singing... reading... good conversation, dancing... I enjoy having a task, like charity work or a function to attend... but most of all, I love to... Oh i cannot say it.

Prince Charles: Please do. I would like to know.

Princess Juliet: I love to... daydream. Imagining different worlds, scenarios, people...

Prince Charles: Does that lighten the burden of existence? Being able to imagine being somewhere else?

Princess Juliet: I... am not sure what you mean.

Prince Charles: Never mind.

Prince Charles: A woman like you should not have to find happiness in a dream world. You know... someone so beautiful.

Princess Juliet: You're making me blush. Thank you.

Prince Charles: Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass you.

Princess Juliet: You did not. But it is not like that, you know. I do not wish I lived in a different world. Not usually that is. I just like to imagine them.

Prince Charles: I see.

Princess Juliet: What is it like for you to wear a suit again? If I may ask. After so long in a uniform.

Prince Charles: Well... quite difficult, to be honest. On the one hand, I believe I grew from a boy into a man wearing the uniform, so it belongs with me. On the other hand, I'd be content if I never had to put on another uniform for the rest of my life.

Princess Juliet: Why not?

Prince Charles: Because I did some horrible things in that uniform. For many of those, I ask the Lord for forgiveness every night, and just now in that church. I had to do them for our country. But the burden stays all the same.

Princess Juliet: ... I wish I could take away that burden.

Prince Charles: You're kind. But I am not ready to let go of it just yet. (moment of silence) I am sorry for speaking of such things on a day like this though. I want you to be able to enjoy the morning.

Princess Juliet: Once you are in good company, nothing can destroy a morning. Which is why I will now catch up with my brother! (laughs)

Prince Charles: (laughs) Please don't.

Princess Juliet: I won't.

Previous | Beginning | Prequel | Next

[thevalleyisjolly]

Thinking about alternate character classes lately, and I’m always thinking about A Crown of Candy at any given point in time, so without further ado, for your consideration:

Wizard!Theo, except that he’s the only wizard ever with a positive Strength modifier because that would be hilarious.  Wizard!Theo, who learned more from Lazuli than anyone knew, whose magic isn’t loud or flashy but spell notes hidden in a false prayer book, a soft glow on the tips of his paws and a muttered breath as one of the princesses falls from the top of the staircase again only to land on their feet, as softly as a feather.  In this world, he’s officially the royal tutor, because there are things that Caramelinda doesn’t know, but she does know what Lazuli taught him and she knows where his loyalties lie and she knows that one day, one day the spark she can see in Ruby’s eyes will need a teacher but will more importantly need a protector.  And to the princesses, to the rest of the court, to the world, he’s a slightly gullible, rather awkward tutor who stands on ceremony far too much, and they laugh at him and his silly little sprinkle pet and isn’t he a bit of a large goon?  Even Amethar forgets, every now and then, what he’s seen Theo do on a battlefield, to a battlefield, because as awkward as his social skills may be, Theo is committed to the part and he plays it well.  In any lifetime, in any world, Theo loves his people and he’ll do what he has to for them.

Bonus subclass: School of Abjuration obviously, this squishy gummy bear has one mission, and that’s to protect people.

Rogue!Lapin, because obviously.  Rogue!Lapin, who never summoned the Sugar Plum Fairy, who smiled and charmed and lied his way from the street to the service of a minor but respectable lord, and from there up and up the social strata until he is chamberlain to House Jawbreaker.  Duke Jawbreaker doesn’t bother much with him, but Spearia Mentha takes one look at Lapin, standing too straight and tall, the accent of the common mountain folk still seeping out at his edges, his eyes sharp and clever even when bowing and murmuring obedience, and she thinks “Hmm.”  And when her sweet baby has to go to Castle Candy as hostage, a safe and willing hostage, but a hostage nonetheless, she writes to dear sister Caramelinda and asks would it be alright if she sent someone from her own household, just to keep an eye on the boy, for her peace of mind as a mother?  Liam arrives at Castle Candy, sans pig, plus one very stuffy guardian, and Lapin Cadbury looks up at the towering spires and parapets of the castle, and a small, rare smile flashes across his face for just a second.

Bonus subclass: Mastermind is really the only way to go, isn’t it?

Sorcerer!Amethar, but listen, alright, my kingdom for Sorceror!Amethar who grows up with magic as rage flowing through his veins, whose wrath manifests not as bursts of concentrated battle fury, but in wild surges of strange and powerful magic.  There is magic in the blood and bones of House Rocks, an old and willful magic.  His sisters protected him, as much as they could, but still, there are whispers, more so once the young prince becomes the grieving king with the eyes of the world on him.  People mutter about the witch king of Candia, they say that he’s levelled armies with his sorcery, that he’s bewitched the Emperor Gustavo into friendship, that he’s dangerous and brings only death and destruction.  And it hurts, it does, not because he cares what other people think, but because they aren’t all wrong.  Look at him, the Unfallen, alive when so many have died.  It hurts that he has so much power singing in his blood, and he’s the one who’s powerless, who can’t be the protector, who must be the protected.  Why him?  Why not strong Rococoa, or brilliant Lazuli, or kind Citrina, or cunning Sapphria?  Why is he alive and not them, when he is the wildcard, the dangerous one, the last person who should be king?

Bonus subclass: I mean, it’s gotta be Wild Magic, no doubt about it.

Druid!Cumulous is another story that writes itself.  Druid!Cumulous still swears the same vows of dedication and protection to Candia’s magic, Candia’s secrets, and so Candia itself rises to acknowledge that.  It isn’t the red glow of the Hungry One that surrounds him when he fights, but the bright pink of the frosting sprites, the warm chocolate of the fudge brownies, the brilliant lemon-yellow of the river dragon’s scales, the slightest tint of sugar plum purple.  All spirits are fickle and unpredictable and dangerous, but they can recognize faith and they can appreciate service and they can reward what is freely given.  The Sugar Plum Fairy considers this one for a while.  She has no little pet bunny in this world, no servant to demand wishes from.  But fairies are jealous, too jealous.  Hearts and minds and souls, of course they should be hers, wholly hers, why wouldn’t they be, and for all the vastness of her realm, all her secrets and all her magic, there is something more to Candia than what is just in her.  So she lets this one be, and lays her trap for another prize, a bigger prize…

Bonus subclass: You could honestly make a good argument for Circle of the Shepherd or Circle of the Land, although Circle of the Moon is pretty great for more combat-focused war guys druids.

Warlock!Saccharina’s life is still a tragedy, because magic was only the most obvious thing that the nuns tried to beat out of her.  Warlock!Saccharina is not born with lightning in her fingers and a storm in her heart, but she is born with a strength and a will that the nuns despise.  In this world, Saccharina looks in the window, in the mirror, and she still sees a blue woman, a kind woman with a kind face, reaching out to her, comforting her when the nuns mistreat her, telling her wondrous stories and magical secrets.  In this world, the Rocks sisters, held in a false afterlife, stage a jailbreak.  Rococoa raises herself back to the living, cold with vengeance against the man who murdered her.  Citrina hitches up her skirts and hikes off to Vegetania, prepared to visit as many dreams and instigate as many supernatural miracles as she needs in order to reform the Church.  Sapphria laughs and winks and goes off to do something mysterious and terribly complex and probably very clever.  And Lazuli?  Lazuli goes to find her eldest niece, and to help her do something about the frankly terrible situation she’s in.  She is no spirit of the dead that a small exorcism by a provincial abbess can banish, but something new, something more.  And when Saccharina finally drowns the monastery, a grim smile on her face, it is with eyes and fingers that glow a brilliant, sharp blue.

Bonus subclass: Either Great Old One or Celestial, depending on how Lazuli fights her way back to the waking world.  Reaching out to the mortal world from the afterlife?  Probably Celestial.  Something strange and mysterious that’s never happened before in all of creation, and isn’t entirely comprehensible even to her?  Great Old One.

Barbarian!Jet grows up with so much rage inside her, but a rage for others, a fire for others.  It’s a rage that goes bone-deep, born of so much love and fear, because Jet Rocks may be sheltered and immature and naive, but one thing she does know, one of the earliest things she knows, is that the world is dangerous for people like Ruby, people like Pops, the world does not like people like Ruby and Pops, and as young as she is, she’s already heard how people whisper and seen how they point at Pops when his back is turned.  And if they found out about Ruby-  It’s a different rage that drives Barbarian!Jet, not a mindless battle frenzy, but love sharpened to the keenest focus, to protect, to guard.  In this world, and in every world, Jet Rocks loves her sister above all else, and will do anything to make sure she is safe.  Her parents worry, of course.  Caramelinda looks into her daughter’s eyes, sees hard steel and the heart of sacrifice, and she weeps when she looks into the mirror and sees the same, this is not the life she wanted for her.  Amethar understands.  He knows.  He knew the minute his daughters were placed into his arms for the first time, and the instinct to protect something so precious, precious beyond measure.  He just didn’t want his daughter to understand as well, not so soon, not so young.

Bonus subclass: Path of the Ancestral Guardian, I think, because Jet’s rage is rooted in and for her family.  Also, imagine the confusion and the angst the first time Jet summons past ancestors to fight with her in battle, and none of them include her aunts because they’re too busy raising hell elsewhere.

Bard!Ruby tumbles out of the cradle with a cheerful tongue and a clever mind, and Amethar has to stop himself from calling after Sapphria, because Ruby is so much like her, so nimble on her feet, so clever with her words.  But it’s Caramelinda that sees it first, how Ruby’s leaps and cartwheels hang just a little too long in the air, how Jet brightens and sharpens too fast after just a word from her.  And it’s Theo, of course it’s Theo, who catches Ruby and Jet trying to rob the cookie jar with a spectral, definitely magic, definitely arcane hand floating in the air, where did she even learn that, he doesn’t have that spell, this is bad, this is very, very bad.  Ruby’s more careful after that, after Mom’s lecture about how dangerous it is, and Pops just standing there, looking stern, nodding along to everything that Mom’s saying, not saying a word to the contrary.  Her magic is just for Jet now, her and Jet and nobody else, and she does a very good job of pretending she doesn’t know anything else, pretending like she doesn’t feel the thrum inside of her, pretending like something isn’t singing in her blood with every leap and twirl and handstand.  

Bonus subclass: College of Valour?  It gets that combat flavouring without being as specific as College of Swords, but I’m open to suggestions.

Warlock!Liam, and he is so young, so lonely, roaming the forests around Castle Manylicks, when he finds her or maybe she finds him.  Just a sweet little fairy who knows where to find the best seeds, the ones that have a little bit of magic in them, and here’s a lonely little boy who’s so interested in what she can show him!  And then of course, this isn’t just any lonely little boy, this is the son of Duke Jawbreaker, someone royal, someone important.  I’ll be your friend, she says, coy and sweet, a nice friend, not like your brothers.  I know lots of things, secret things, magic things, that I can show you.  Come with me, do you want to see something really neat?  Her magic is almost golden, almost Bulbian, with the slightest whiff of something rich and sticky and sweet and purple, and Liam’s only glad that he has a friend now, someone who’s nice to him, who’s interested in the same things, who remembers his name and doesn’t pick on him because he likes seeds more than swords.  Lonely children don’t need to be threatened or coerced, lonely children don’t need deals with the devil.  Lonely children just need a kind voice and warm approval and someone to show them affection, and the Sugar Plum Fairy knows just how to work with that.

Bonus subclass: Gonna diverge from Lapin here and go with Archfey as the warlock/patron relationship, because Liam isn’t in a position where he has to pretend that his powers come from the Bulb, so the SPF can lean into her feyness more.

[wherearemyglassesbro]

How did each character get their vision in your Genshin Impact AU?

YEAHHH BABEY LETS GOOOO!!!

Some key terms so everyone can be included even if they haven’t played Genshin!

Visions: “The one thing that is known for certain is that Visions are conduits for their associated elements. However, the means by which Visions allow their wielders to harness elemental energy, and what is exchanged for this power, is a mystery.... When a god has deemed a person worthy of a Vision, there are two ways they can receive it: A new Vision appears before them in the blink of an eye, or an old Vision from a now-deceased person can be reawakened by resonating with someone else. It is also suggested that an active Vision can be abandoned and taken up by another person, but how exactly that works is unknown.” -the Genshin Wiki

Mondstadt: modeled after Germany

Liyue: modeled after China

Knights of favonious: an organization of knights within Mondstat, they act as peacekeepers! Helpful people!!

Hilichurls and Ruin Guards: common enemies found in the wild

Abyss Order: an organization of evil, fuzzy mages

The Fatui: all you really need to know about them is that they’re also an evil organization but...humans not monsters

Cryo: ice, Anemo: air(I realize I forgot this in the last post oops!), Geo: rock, Pyro: fire, Electro: lightning, Hydro: water, Dendro: nature

——————————————

Arthur(Dendro): Arthur never thought he’d get a vision. His oldest brother, Alastair, got a Pyro vison when he was 10. And his youngest brother Peter got an Anemo vision when he was 7. Arthur waited and waited and was totally convinced that he’d be visionless. But that’s fine! Plenty of people don’t have visions. His own parents and uncles didn’t even have visions! When Arthur left home at 17 to go to Mondstat to study, his travels were extremely lonely. He had to walk the whole way there, living with just the clothes on his back and a rickity tent to sleep in. He lost motivation about halfway through his trip, breaking down crying beside a big, mossy rock. The Dendro Archon pitied him and slipped a vision into his hand while he rubbed his face. The moss from the rock settled around his shoulders to hug him...And he was just...overcome with joyful sobs. The fact that the Dendro Archon had so much faith in him??? Wow...That’s what kept him going all the way to Mondstat, trudging up the stone steps to collapse on the smooth stairs of the Knights of Favonious’s Headquarters. He’s worked for them since then, receiving tutoring and now working full time as a translator :) since he received his vision, he’s grown leaves out of his head and his freckles turned green. He was born with snake eyes :)

Alfred(Pyro): Alfred and Matthew got their visions the same day. The two were allowed to go adventuring by their parents. They could go anywhere they want as long as they got home bedore dinner time! Alfred, the more energetic of the two, would always run ahead and drag Matt around to new, interesting outside their city. They often went to play on nearby ancient ruins, digging up old artifacts and playing with broken swords they found in the dirt. But one day, they stumbled upon a ruin guard. The machine sat, covered in vines. They assumed it was no longer in service and Matt climbed on top of it to try to pry the head open but uhhh it came to life and literally tried to kill them. It threw the twins hard against a wall and it crumbled, falling on top of them. The gods saw what happened and froze time for a few seconds to place visions into their hands. Alfred woke up very scared but this new power...was reassuring. He realized the gods were on their side! That was the best day of his life. He still goes on adventures! That day inspired him to keep going and to help others :)

Matthew(Anemo): Matthew received his vision at the same time as Alfred. The two were in a great deal of danger and the gods really did take pity upon them. But the Pyro Archon did not think that Matthew would be a good candidate for a Pyro vision. So the Anemo Archon stepped in and bestowed an Anemo vision upon the older twin. Matt was quite literally blown away by his own newfound ability to wield the wind. Together, the twins were able to create a fire tornado which blew the ruin guard off its feet, giving them enough time to sprint away. The slow, rusty beast unable to follow. That day was pretty traumatic for Matt because....he almost died....But hes grown so much since then. The twins were only 12 when they got their visions. He still has no desire for hand to hand combat, that’s why he practices alchemy :)

Francis(Hydro): I find every excuse to bring Jeanne into my AUs just to give Francis some spicy trauma (that’s a joke please don’t come at me). Francis was visionless but Jeanne was gifted her Vision from the Hydro Archon when she was 10. Jeanne was noble, loyal, helpful and kind. The Hydro Archon thought she was worthy of their power! Jeanne got very sick when she was 12 and her condition worsened until she peacefully passed when she was 15. Francis was ruined by her death. Her parents have him her vison. It died with her but carrying it with him and hearing the little bell on the end jingle was comforting. The following year, on the anniversary of her death, he sat under the moonlight singing her favorite song. The Hydro Archon’s heart broke for him and as he sang, they deactivated the vision. Francis cradled it in his hands and cried, his tears dripping down his face to collect in a small floating pool over the ground. In her honor, he learned to artfully wield water, having it swirl around him and his crew while they performed. Even though he knows the Hydro Archon brought it back for him, he likes to believe that Jeanne is providing him with strength and support from beyond :’)

Ivan(Cryo): Ivan has been a nomad almost his entire life. He travels all around to study hilichurls and their way of life. He’s lived with tribes of hilichurls, learned to write and speak their language, learned their style of finger paintings and carvings, cooked with them...Hes participated in almost all aspects of hilichurl life and in return, he provides them with plenty of boar meat and protection. He lived with a tribe in Dragonspine, the coldest area in all of Mondstat, and despite frostbite nipping at his fingers, he’d still go out of his way to hunt for the tribe. While hunting, he saw a saw a dull blue blinking under the snow. He stuck his hand down there and found a woman who had frozen to death. Her ghost greeted him and assured him that she wouldn’t hurt him. She explained that she’d been missing for years and thanked him for finally finding her. She gave him her Cryo vision and he went down the mountain to get others to come back with him to retrieve her so she could be properly buried at the Church of Mondstat where she belonged. Now Ivan can shatter ice at his own will, the woman had been very weak with her vison but he built it up to be stronger and work with his own style of fighting and living. When he lives with tribes in warmer areas, he makes popsicles for the hilichurls so they can cool down :D

Yao(Dendro): Yao grew up waaaay outside of Liyue Harbor. He wasn’t rich but he wasn’t poor. His grandparents had a silk flower farm where they just grew tons of silk flowers, even making their own perfumes too. Yao’s parents inhereted the land when they got married and intended for Yao to carry on the legacy of the Wang family perfumery but the Fatui seized the land and kicked the Wang family off of it. His grandparents passed and his parents retired to Qingce Village to live out the rest of their years peacefully. They offered for Yao to come but he refused, wanting to return their name to its rightful glory! He worked in many shops as a delivery boy, cleaned the streets, took commissions for deliveries outside of Liyue Harbor. He worked HARD in order to buy a shop right in the center of the city. The Dendro Archon admired his perseverance despite him being so young! And while he slept, he reactivated Yao’s grandmother’s Dendro vision, leaving it on the pillow next to his head. Yao nearly passed out when he woke up and saw it!! It was the surprise of a lifetime! He ran as fast as he could until he was out of the city, standing on one of the rocky hills overlooking Liyue Harbor. He held his grandma’s jade polearm in his hands and slammed it into the rocks, screaming joyfully as they split and vines rose up around him, flying every which and cracking like whips! He’d learn to control the power passed down to him and make his grandparents proud :’)

Kiku(Electro): Kiku’s father is a badass. He lost his eye in battle and keeps his vision orb in his eye socket. So he has one, normal brown eye and one bright purple eye with the Electro symbol in it. If that isn’t intimidating....I don’t know what would be. Kiku always wanted to be like him, his father is his role model. He doesn’t have a mom so his dad raised him to be a badass but...a more subtle badass. Kiku’s family was apparently full of Electro vision wielders so he hoped he would get one too! His father told him about his uncles and grandparents having Electro visions and how they worked together as an unstoppable team! The way Kiku earned his vision...Was not what he had in mind. He worked as a patrol soldier when he was 18, making sure the border of his country was safe. He and 12 others were approached by Fatui guards and pretty much....slaughtered. Kiku’s close friend had gotten his Vision when he was 8 after inheriting it from his great grandmother. It was apparent that his friend wouldn’t make it. After a tearful goodbye, his friend passed his Vision onto him. Kiku wears his vision proudly, a symbol of eternal trust and friendship. Kiku now works with the Fatui, profiting of off their greed more than even they know. He hates them but by working with them, he’s keeping the locals safe.

Lovino(Pyro): Lovi’s story is kinda sad. Grandpa Roma’s vision was meant to be his because he’s the first born grandson but the vision rejected him. It never turned on. Lovino became so frustrated that he passed it over to Feli...And it came to life within a week. Lovino felt betrayed, angry and resentful towards his brother. It wasn’t fair!!! How could this happen? So instead, Lovi rejected the Hydro Archon and built a shrine for the Pyro Archon. He made offerings of flowers, stew, chili peppers, wine, anything he could get his hands on. He sat in saunas to develop a tolerance for heat and trained until he was almos passed out. He prayed and did everything he could to get the Pyro Archons attention but still, he didn’t get a vision. By now, Feli had his own vision for three years and was mastering archery. Lovino had enough. He gathered twigs and weeds, stomping out into a clearing “Hey! I know you can hear me! What do I have to do to prove myself to you? I’ve done everything I can! Are you too afraid to give it to me? Huh??? Pussy! Fucking let me-“ uh oh. Now the Pyro Archon was mad. They decided to give him a chance, they could always take it away or kill him if he failed. The vision appeared in his palm and the weeds in his hands burst into flames. He screamed in agony, his arms on fire now. He kept off of a nearby cliff down into the ocean to put out the flames....but he had it. A vision...He’s been ruthless since then. Owning a flower shop and kicking ruin guards asses when they stomp around in the flower fields

Feliciano(Hydro): Feli has always felt guilty about his vision. It was meant to be Lovino’s but it awakened for him instead. He trained when Lovi wasn’t around, everything he did was subtle and quiet because every glimpse of his vision angered his brother. Feli didn’t want that, he wanted them to be close again :( he got lonely when his brother was gone and sound talk to his Vision the way he used to talk to Grandpa Roma. He’s grateful that he received his grandpas vison though!! It was very powerful when it was with Roma but with Feli, it’s significantly weaker because he just doesn’t have the same battle experience. He doesn’t even want it anyway. He is a peaceful guy who enjoys archery and singing in the church choir :) he has no desire for violence the way his brother does.

Ludwig(Geo): Ludwig inherited his fathers vision. He’s still alive but after losing an arm while on knight duty, he retired and gave his vision to Ludwig. The vision easily accepted Lud as its new owner, glowing brightly every time he touched it. The Geo Archon likes strong, loyal and intelligent people and Lud perfectly fits those preferences. Lud was 18 when he got his father’s vision so by now he had already been a knight in training for the knights of favonious! After intense training and an obscene amount of testing, he became a full blown knight capable of fighting monsters when need be. He’s very respected by the civilians of Mondstat and truly makes his father proud.

Gilbert(Pyro): Gilbert has broken many laws in his time and breaking into a very dangerous ruin was probably the best thing he ever did. He found tons of crispy, burnt skeletons in there and lots of fire flowers who spat sparks at him as he walked by. In a bigger flower...He saw a glint and thought ‘Aw yeah!! There’s a gemstone in there! That’s gonna be worth so much money!!!’ So he stuck his hand right into the smoldering flower, getting 4th degree burns as he ripped an ancient vision out of it. The thing had to be centuries old. It’s gold casing was bent and covered in dried blood both Gil’s and whoever else had owned it before. When the vison came to life in his hand, he could feel tbe the energy within was very old... it was later determined that it was likely one of the first batch of visions gifted to the human race by the Archons! Historians tried to buy it from him. It for once, Gil set his greed aside and kept the vison for himself! The vision radiated happy energy at that so he assumed that it was happy he kept it

Please ignore the spelling errors or I will barf 🙂

[thefandomlesbian]

WIP tag: thank you @scandinavian-punk for tagging me!!

Brace yourselves because I am about to word vomit on your screen—

(not including WIPs that are currently posted, since you can explore those at your leisure)

To Rule and Guide: The sequel to To Light and Guard, Lana and Mary Eunice go forward in their relationship, but they encounter hiccups along the way as old enemies rise, friends twist beyond recognition, and the church tries to call back the nun it released so recklessly.

Break Rank: John Laurens was shot down off of his horse and dragged away from the Battle of Combahee River, believed to be dead. A mutilated corpse was buried in his stead, but he awakens in a warm cabin to a middle-aged lesbian couple who nurse him back to health. Now disabled and with everyone believing he's dead, he has to try to make his way back up to New York, as there is only one person who will believe him.

Lead Me Astray: Spencer receives a diagnosis of malignant cancer behind his eyes, the first-line treatment being removal of both eyes. He quietly hands in his resignation to Strauss and earns a deal for medical retirement, and he intends to spend his remaining days setting things up to survive life alone as a blind man. However, when the team receives word of his decision to leave without telling any of them, Aaron hunts him down and demands answers. Convincing Spencer of his worth, both as a person and as a member of the BAU, is not easy, but it's necessary for the upcoming case they will face.

Like Minor Gods: Spencer lost a high-stakes bet with Derek. Now he's training for a triathlon. It's not exactly a fun time, seeing as his athleticism peaked when he was the basketball coach in high school, but with a little help from his unit chief, he may have a chance of crossing the finish line.

Shipwrecked Souls: After taking his leave from the BAU, Aaron struggles with Jack, who has developed increasingly concerning behavioral and psychological issues. Jack is riddled with anxiety and PTSD, and no matter what Aaron does to try to help, they wind up yelling at each other. Desperate for some help, he attends a seminar for parenting a troubled kid, where Spencer is surprisingly guest lecturing after earning his PhD in adolescent psychology. Aaron asks if Spencer will help tutor Jack—though Jack's failing grades are just the tip of the iceberg in regards to his current string of issues—and happily, Spencer agrees.

Singing While Rome Burns: After Foyet's escape from prison, Aaron has lost all of his coping skills. His family fell apart for his job, and he's apparently not even good at that anymore. He gets blackout drunk and wanders around lost in Rock Creek Park until he intends to call Rossi to come get him. Inadvertently, he calls Spencer instead. Spencer rescues him, and this act of mercy ignites a spark between them. But they walk a path ripe with trepidations, as Foyet is still on the move, Haley is busy settling the divorce, Strauss battles corporate challenges, and Spencer struggles to find where he fits in all of it with his new role in Aaron's life.

Spencer & Aaron: Dharma and Greg AU. Hotshot federal prosecutor Aaron Hotchner sees the most beautiful man he's ever met on the subway on his way to the office. He tries to go after him, but the doors slide closed, and he's left with a sense of longing—until he arrives at work to find the same man sitting on his desk. "You're Aaron Hotchner," he says. "You appeared in the Washington Post five months ago for putting away the Freeway Butcher. Your building security is weak. I was able to guess the passcode in two tries. I'm Spencer. I remember everything I read." On an impromptu first date, they recklessly decide to get married. On the days after, they bring together two incredibly different families and groups of friends, slowly teaching everyone that any relationship can work if there's enough love and compassion involved.

The Good Place: The Good Place AU. Corporate lawyer Aaron Hotchner was an asshole in life. In death, he awakens to find he's been placed in the Good Place by mistake. Partnered with his "soulmate," Spencer; a former nun, Emily, and her soulmate, Penelope; a spiritual vessel of knowledge, JJ; and two so-called angel-men, Dave and Derek, they find themselves dragged into a war which could challenge the very foundation the afterlife is built upon.

The Landscape After Cruelty: Spencer drives Aaron home from Quantico the day of Haley's death. Over the following days, he orchestrates everything from behind the scenes. He works with Jessica to care for Jack; he cooks meals for Aaron; he calls funeral homes to arrange services; he makes Aaron's appointments and then drags him to them by force. He makes himself indispensable. It only leaves Aaron wondering—why?

Insects in Amber: inspired by @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety Whumptober prompt, infection. The team has split to handle two different cases. Spencer finds a breakthrough in the case he works with Aaron, but Garcia is busy with the rest of the team, so they go with no coordinates and no warning. When Aaron gets into combat with the unsub and they both fall down the stairs, the chamber doors seal behind them, trapping them inside. The unsub is dead, his neck broken in the fall, and Aaron's femur is protruding from his body where he landed. He's in an agonizing amount of pain, and Spencer knows the statistics for infection of an open fracture are bleak at best. No one knows where they are. They only have the hope that the team will find them soon—or else there will only be one of them to rescue.

Call Me Home: Cordelia Goode has finally escaped the oppressive home of her mother and has landed a job at the local animal rescue, Starfish, where she becomes fast friends with the quirky woman who works dog side, Misty. As shelter drama picks up, they learn together how difficult saving lives can really be.

Minor Bird: Acclaimed pianist, Misty Day, has decided to step away from her career and take an early retirement. Amateur Cordelia Goode wants to find out why. When her teacher makes arrangements for her to meet Misty in person, she learns that soon, Misty will not be able to perform any longer. In a crunch for time and desperate to learn more, Cordelia begs for Misty to teach her. In the process, they grow closer together than either of them ever dreamed.

The Sister Act: Lana Winters witnessed a horrible crime and has been placed in witness protection in an abbey for her own safety. She repeatedly butts heads with the Mother Superior, Jude, as she struggles to survive the trauma of what she witnessed. With the help of Sister Mary Eunice, she begins to appreciate the quiet spirituality of the place. But criminals are still pursuing her, eager to silence her before she can testify.

I've Got Your Demons (They're Crying Out for Love): Lana Winters aids Briarcliff in the exorcism of Sister Mary Eunice. Both are pregnant from crimes committed against them and against God. Lana places her son up for adoption; Mary Eunice's daughter is stolen from her, dumped on hospital steps with no note by Monsignor Howard who will not be held accountable for his actions. When Mary Eunice is well enough, she leaves Briarcliff with Lana, desperate to reconnect with her daughter, but it's years before they catch up to young Billie Dean Howard, and they find that demons still continue to touch them at every turn.

Autumn Hands: Audrey saved Shelby's life, but she couldn't save her mutilated vocal cords, permanently damaged by her attempt on her own life. All sorts of trials await them—criminal, medical, social—as they try to look past their fraught history and come together as the sole survivors of Roanoke.

On the Pyre, Before the Hearth: Lana Winters gets lost in the Louisiana swamp after she tries to find herself in the wilderness. There, she encounters a lonely hermit woman who has spent the past decade living in solitude and subsisting off the land. A flood forces her and Misty into one another's company for several days, but when it's time for Lana to leave, she finds she doesn't want to life with Misty ever again. Misty has her own secrets and reasons for hiding, unbeknownst to Lana, who writes and publishes about her experience in the hope of drawing Misty out of the woods. She has no idea the ramifications of her actions.

That... Should be everything 😳😬😐 I'm tagging @reidology @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety @its-a-goode-day @honeyvenable and whoever else feels motivated to do it!