#the bats: hmmm suspicious

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.

It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.

Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.

He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.

Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.

Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.

Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.

And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.

——

Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-

He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.

He’s there to protect.

Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.

Batman and Robin? They are his.

He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.

Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.

“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.

“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.

“Goth’m?”

“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”

When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-

Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.

“You-”

“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”

“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.

“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”

He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”

Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”

“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”

“Thank you… Gotham.”

Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.

Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.

#Danny is Gotham #danny phantom #Jason Todd #Jason Todd as Robin #joker is about to get haunted #bruce wayne #Gotham’s knight #batman #bamf danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #Danny is Tim Drake #he’s like nine #Jason Todd lives #joker? probably not #the bats: hmmm suspicious #also the bats: Gotham loves me! I’m doing the right thing! #dp x dc

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Can you do a Damian and reader who are friends, and one day the reader goes over to the Wayne Manor and called Titus? Like both Damian and the reader got into a silly little joke about who Titus loves more? I think it would be funny if Titus went to the reader because they had treats or something in their pocket haha

‘This is utterly ridiculous.’

‘What? are you too chicken that Titus might like me more.’ You taunted as you then started clucking like a chicken in Damian’s ear, to which he then shoves you away by the shoulder.

‘I am not chicken and besides it was only one time that Titus wrongfully ignored me for you.’ Damian replied but you weren’t buying it.

‘If you aren’t chicken then why are you trying to get out of our bet then? Hmmm? Seems a little suspicious there Wayne.’ You asked and Damian could only curse himself for acting so brash and accepting the stupid challenge you pestered him with as Titus patiently stood a good distance between you and Damian, tilting his head to the side as though to ask him what was taking so long.

‘Our bet? You mean your stupid-‘ you raised your brows at Damian as you started clucking again, though softer this time and Damian knew there was no version of this where he got out of participating in your bet. Not a single one because you wouldn’t let him live it down otherwise and Damian prides himself of being a man of his word, no matter how ridiculous it might seem. So Damian bites his tongue and swallows his pride before moving a couple of spaces away from you before muttering under his breath. ‘Let’s get this over with before anyone dares see me in such a state.’

You smiled and then looked towards Titus, who was still stood perfectly still in his spot, before dropping down to your knees and holding out your arms saying. ‘Titus! Come here boy! Come here!’ Damian scoffed at this display and looked at the Great Dane expectantly as he clicked his fingers and pointed to the spot in-front of him. ‘Titus. Come.’ He commanded. Titus didn’t move for a good couple of seconds, as though contemplating who he should go to, his owner or his owner’s friend who gives him the bestest tasting treats he’s ever tasted; which was saying a lot coming from a Great Dane who’s owner was the son of a billionaire.

‘Titus sweetie come to y/n!’ You called out sweetly.

‘No. Titus come to me.’ Damian commanded again.

Titus walked forwards a little, still hesitant on who to choose, but as though he was being chased by a bat out of hell, the Great Dane bolted over to you and rammed into you hard. So hard I fact that within a blink of an eyes you were knocked to the floor either Titus sticking his muzzle into your face, his rancid and warm dog breath cascading over you, as Damian stood over you with crossed arms and what looked like a pout.

‘You cheated.’ He said after a while.

‘No. I won.’ You replied pridefully at your victory over him.

‘No, Titus was coming towards me, only to stop and run towards you instead. You did something, I know you did and I’ll find out what it is.’ Damian barks, bearing his teeth at you but you were more than use to his occasional outbursts that ultimately mean nothing.

You shrugged as Titus then decides that he wants to lie down, but as he does lie down he goes and rests his head on your stomach and a paw on your leg, making it so that you wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon if Titus had anything to say about it. ‘You’re just a sore loser Damian.’ You tell him as you laid a hand atop of Titus’ head and rubbed behind his ear just the way he liked. ‘I won the bet fair and square. Titus likes me and there’s nothing wrong with loosing once in a while.’ You concluded and Damian grits his teeth.

‘Tt. Whatever, I’ll prove that you cheated one way or another and until then you can keep parading this so called victory because I can assure you it won’t happen again.’ He threatens as you and Titus visibly perk up at this. ‘So you’re saying there’s a next time?’ You asked and Damian throws his head back a groans before walking deeper into the Manor and away from you and Titus, murmuring under his breath as he goes. ‘That’s all you took away from that? Unbelievable’

You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders and dig into your jean pocket to pull out a dog treat for Titus, who engulfed it with one quick bite of his powerful jaw. ‘There was no rules against bribing your best friend’s dog with dog treats.’ You justified to yourself as you fed Titus another treat, ‘after all what Damian doesn’t know won’t hurt him, isn’t that right Titus?’ You then asked the Great Dane who only sneezed as he looked at you expectantly for more dog treats for his participation in your schemes against his owner.

‘Good boy.’ You praised as you continued to feed him treats to his hearts content.

#damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 16

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

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

In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.

“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.

“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.

“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”

“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.

“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.

You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”

“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.

“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.

By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you’re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.

Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.

“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.

“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”

“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”

He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.

“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”

“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.

“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.

“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”

“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.

“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.

“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.

“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”

“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.

“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”

“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”

“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”

“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.

It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”

“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”

Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”

“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you’re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.

“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”

“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”

“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”

"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."

Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”

"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."

“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.

“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”

Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”

"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"

"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."

"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.

"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.

"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.

"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."

"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.

"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."

"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."

Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."

"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."

"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."

"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."

He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."

"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."

"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"

"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."

He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."

"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.

"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.

"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."

"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."

"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.

"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."

"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.

"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."

"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."

"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."

“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”

"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."

It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.

"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."

"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."

"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."

"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."

"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."

"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."

"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."

"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.

"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."

"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"

"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."

"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."

"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.

"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."

He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.

"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."

“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”

"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.

“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.

"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."

“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”

"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."

"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.

Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."

"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.

"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."

"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.

"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."

"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.

"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.

"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.

"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."

"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."

"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."

"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."

“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”

"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"

“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”

The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."

“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”

"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."

“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.

His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."

“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."

“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”

"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.

“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.

"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"

“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”

"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.

“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”

"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."

“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”

"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.

"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.

“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.

“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.

The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.

“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.

“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”

“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.

“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”

“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”

He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”

"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.

“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”

“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”

He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.

"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."

The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.

The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.

“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”

“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”

“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”

“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”

“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.

“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.

"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."

“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”

"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."

“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”

"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.

"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.

"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."

"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.

“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.

Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"

“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”

"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"

"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"

"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."

"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.

"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.

"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.

“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”

"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."

You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”

"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."

“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”

Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."

******

Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.

The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."

"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.

"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."

"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."

Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”

"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."

"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.

"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."

"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."

"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."

“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.

"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.

"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.

It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."

"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."

"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.

"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.

It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”

"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.

“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”

"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”

"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."

“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”

"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”

“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”

“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.

“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.

“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.

“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”

“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.

“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.

“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.

“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.

In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"

Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."

Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."

"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.

"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."

"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."

"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.

"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."

“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.

"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.

"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.

"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."

"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."

"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."

“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”

"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.

“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”

"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."

“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”

"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.

“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”

"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.

Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”

“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”

******

"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.

"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."

“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.

"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."

“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.

"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.

“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”

"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”

"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.

“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.

"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."

“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”

"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."

Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.

“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”

“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.

“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.

“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”

“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.

“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.

"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."

“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”

“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”

“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”

"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."

“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.

“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”

“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”

“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”

“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.

"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."

“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”

"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."

Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”

"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."

“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.

"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."

“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”

"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.

“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”

You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."

“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”

"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."

“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.

"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.

“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.

"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"

“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.

“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”

“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”

“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.

“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”

“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”

“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.

“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”

“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”

“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”

“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.

“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.

“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”

“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.

"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.

“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.

"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"

“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”

"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."

He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”

“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.

“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”

“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”

“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”

“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”

“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.

“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.

“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”

“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”

“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”

“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”

He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.

Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.

“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”

“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”

“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.

“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”

He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”

“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”

"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.

Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”

"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."

“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.

******

Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”

“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.

“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”

“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”

“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.

“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.

“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”

“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”

“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.

“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.

Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”

His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”

“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”

“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.

“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”

“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”

“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”

"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.

“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”

"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."

“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.

"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"

“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.

"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."

“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.

"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."

“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”

"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.

"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"

“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”

"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."

“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”

"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"

Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”

"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."

“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.

"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.

“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”

"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."

“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #witches #vampires #it's the Gilded Age bitches!

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 18

right off the bat, Teacher seems very sure that this was not murder and keen not to have a full murder investigation. i don't think he's necessarily suspicious or anything, but he seems incredibly scared of whats down there, but maybe also not wanting others to find out about it? personally i'm not totally convinced, i feel like it could be a combination e.g. one of the other Houses let loose/awoke something in the lab on purpose

first proper look we've gotten at the Second House here, and, unsurprisingly for the literal military, they seem very into authority - also interesting that they're the ones apparently responsible for carrying out murder investigations, i suppose it makes sense given we haven't seen any other real form of law enforcement at all

and, of course, suspicion is falling on the Ninth now given they were the ones who found the bodies. honestly a little surprised they weren't suspected sooner

ok so, all those who have keys (other than the ninth), and thus, atm are the only ones who could feasibly have anything to do with the deaths are: the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, & Ianthe

Dulcinea having a key is intriguing, not only is she cleverer than she appears, she and Pro have been more active in their search than they've let on

it is possible the others of Third House were genuinely unaware that Ianthe had a key and possibly she has her own agenda, but this also feels like a very public and dramatic reveal. i don't trust that isn't a ploy to throw any suspicion away from Corona and Naberius.

Isaac and Jeannemary are just so determined to hunt whatever hurt Abigail and Magnus, its killing me. they're clearly grieving, and without oversight now, i'm very concerned they're gonna get themselves into big trouble

the way that Harrow just trusts implicitly now that Gideon locked the hatch 😢

hmmm Abigail hated heights, i can definitely understand given i also have a phobia of anything higher than a set of ground-floor stairs. its also a little strange given she would have had to descend that tunnel to get to the lab, but i don't think its necessarily suspicious or a big clue, she could have been willing to brave it for a larger goal

Harrow seems rather desensitised to the fact that two people just got murdered, but it makes sense given how much death she's surrounded with constantly. that being said girl two people just got murdered chill out

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb liveblog

[mrsaguapapi]

Ch 1  Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7

Chapter 8

Pillowtalk

The Vibe:

Dusty Springfield - Son of a Preacher Man (Official Audio)

Oh god, why am I so hot right now? and why can't I move?

I rub and slowly open my eyes, trying to adjust to the sunlight piercing through my windows. I look around to see why I can't move. Namor was lying face down on top of me, still very much asleep. He was hugged up on me and using me as a pillow; if you listen closely you can hear him softly breathing. My heart actually flutters

He's secretly a soft boy, who would've thought...

I rub his hair and back trying to coax him awake, "Namor" I whisper, "Namor wake up."

"hmm" he grunts

I quietly chuckle, "I have to get up"

"No"

"Yes"

He tightly holds on to me and rolls us over onto his back. "I don't want to get up," he says

Raising myself up to look at him, "You don't have to; I need to get up and stretch. Someone broke my back last night and then slept on top of me afterward."

Namor laughs, "Fine," He lets go of me, "Don't be long." I kiss his forehead and get up grabbing an oversized t-shirt of mine to throw on. Grabbing my phone o realize it's almost 11; while checking my notifications I head to the sitting room. Eventually putting some music on I begin to stretch out.

I am so sore, my legs and hips are extremely tight.

He really delivered on making me sore...

After 45 min or so of stretching and some light yoga, I end on my favorite full-body stretch. Sitting on my knees I bend backward and lay on my forearms grabbing my feet; I close my eyes and breathe letting my body relax into this pose.

"This is quite the sight." Namor steps in

"You like what you see?" I ask

"Very much." He steps forward standing right in front of me "You were supposed to come back to bed, I grew impatient"

Seeing him in the light of day fully naked, gave me butterflies. I sit up and look at him.

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time. How can I get you to forgive me?" I say batting my eyelashes and letting my shirt slightly fall off my shoulder exposing the top of my breasts.

Namor holds his hand out helping me up and turns me around to rub my shoulders. "You can start by showering with me," he whispers in my ear

"Gladly" I reply

Before we can head to the bathroom I hear a knock on the door. "how about you start without me, I'll be right there."

"He roughly grabs my ass and pulls me dangerously close to him, "Be quick Ki'ichpan," He says before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Headed to the door I speak up, "Who is it?"

"It's Peter!"

I crack open the door trying to give myself a little humility. "Good morning lightweight"

"Hey not fair, that was my first time ever drinking."

I point at him "And last time until you're 21."

"Yea, yea, yea. Anyways wanna chill before brunch?" He begins to walk in.

I quickly put my hand in front of him, "Can I just meet you there; What time is Brunch?" I suspiciously ask

"12:30 pm. What's going on?"

"No-nothings wrong" I stutter and laugh

"Oh no. Is Bucky in there?" He whispers, "Millie nooooo"

"Ew oh my god. Bucky is not the one in here." I say offended, "Remind me to fill you in on that whole situation."

"Okay so then who is in there?" he questions

"That information is on a need-to-know basis and right now you don't need to know." I quip

His face lights with realization, "you didn't!"

I forcefully cover his mouth, "Hey don't judge me. A girl has needs and he's actually quite nice."

He tries to speak under my hand, I roll my eyes and remove it from his face, "What about your London friend? I was starting to think you liked him/them."

"It's complicated; plus we had no intentions of starting anything, no strings attached you know."

"Hmmm okay. Well have fun with your new beau, imma go check out Shuri's lab. See you at brunch and practice safe sex." He says as he walks away

The Vibe:

SZA - Love Galore (Alt Version) (Audio)

"Never!" I say closing the door. I head to the bathroom and find Namor in the shower.

"You're lucky," he says

"And why's that?" I say taking off my shirt

"You had one more minute before I came and got you"

Stepping behind him in the shower I begin to lather some soap in my hand and begin to wash his back, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I hope you didn't miss me too much" I begin to kiss his neck and shoulders

Namor rests his head on my chest as I begin to wash his front, "I did miss your touch"

I whisper in his ear, "Well forgive me for denying you of your needs your Royal Highness."

"I prefer God but I'll settle for King."

"Forgive me, King Namor," I say extra soft in his ear. Namor then turns around and pins me to the wall, kissing me with vigorous passion.

I guess he liked the sound of that

Namor dips down and begins to suck on my nipples causing sensations to go straight to my pussy, "Fuck" I moan

"You drive me insane. Every time I'm this close to you I forget about everything else." He lightly strokes my scar causing me to look away in shame. He continues, "I think everything about you is beautiful" he grabs my chin and makes me look at him, "Everything. Your body, your power, your brain; everything."

I didn't know we were freestyling love letters

"I don't know what to say" I honestly reply

"Say nothing. I say these things without the intention of wanting anything in return. Just know this, I have lived for almost half a century, and never have I been so pulled in by someone's aura. You disarm me. If and when you decide you are ready I'd make you my queen in a heartbeat."

"You don't mean that. That's the sex brain talking"

"I'm as sure as I am standing here. My mother was the voice that brought you to me. She'd always told me to settle for an equal and nothing less. You are my equal, hell more than my equal. I don't expect you to make any decisions any time soon."

"Namor we met 3 days ago, how could you so quickly be sure about me?"

"I just do. I understand you'll need time, I can wait. Besides I'd like to properly court you and get to know your world and you get to know mine. Give us a chance Ki'ichpan."

I look at him for a while, "You know I'm broken right? I don't mean that to sound dramatic but I am. I don't even know who I am. I've got some serious baggage"

"I don't care," he says sincerely

This is wild, what do I do? This man is pouring his heart out right and I'm frozen Aunt May's voice pops into my head, "True love finds you when you are least looking for it."

"Okay," I say

"Really?" He asks

"Mhmm low stakes, most that can happen is you break my heart which is not fun, really so not fun, but temporary."

He laughs, "And what if you break mine?"

"Impossible. I don't break hearts, I just collect them." I tease

The mood in the air was light; he was hopeful and I was hesitant but curious to see where this goes. He kisses me, once again with passion. I pull him to me wanting to be as close as possible; Namor sneaks his hand down my pussy and begins to stimulate my clit, driving me wild. Our passionate kiss turned into a hot and heavy makeout. Namor takes my legs and wraps them around him, so he could firmly pin me to the shower wall; He then takes his dick and slowly pushes himself inside me. He took his sweet time causing me to moan into his mouth.

"Hold on tight" The only warning he gave me before he starts to roughly fuck me against the wall; I grab his hair and scratch his back trying to hold on. Namor rests his head on my shoulder as he fucks me going in deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. I sing a melody of moans in his ear, begging him not to stop.

Namor sits his head up and rests his forehead on mine, "Say you're mine."

I try to answer but can't get any real words out.

Namor firmly grabs my hips and begins to pound into me even harder than before, "Say your mine." he growls out between gritted teeth. "Say it!" he demands.

"I'm yours!" I yell "Oh fuck I'm yours. Namor please.." I can't even finish my sentence I'm so close. He's hitting me so deep and I can't do anything but take it.

"I know baby, me too," he responds.

While kissing him I roughly pull the back of his hair, not on purpose, but just to hold on; he must have liked it because it made him moan into my mouth this time. I can feel him losing control, he's so close, and so am I. Namor begins to speak something in my ear in his native tongue, "Yaan u mierda in reina, kutaj Jach ma'alob. In yaakunech ka ma' je'el in pa'atik u meentikba utia'al Mantats' mía.In ki'ichpam, ki'ichpam reina. 'Fuck my queen, you feel so good. I love you, and cannot wait for you to be forever mine. My beautiful, beautiful queen'"

I wasn't sure what he said, as I could barely hear him outside of my own moans but it was just enough to bring me to climax. I hit my head on the back of the wall so hard I swear I saw stars, I couldn't control my movements anymore; it was like my orgasm took control.

After a few more thrusts, he pumps into me one last time holding himself there as he releases in me, making sure I take every last drop of him. Something about him holding me like this feels so intimate I swear I could have came all over again.

He smiles at me, "I could stay like this for eternity"

"If only" I laugh

He slowly pulls out of me and I wince, "I'm sorry Ki'ichpan, I should not have been as rough"

"Don't apologize, I like that you make me sore. Now every time I feel that pain, I'll think of you."

"Keep talking like that and I may have to take you again"

"Love that energy" I laugh and kiss him, "but If I don't get any food in me I might die."

"As you wish" he laughs

We finish up in the shower and get dressed. I'm wearing a teal off-the-shoulder bodysuit and a high-waisted mustard-yellow skirt. I wrap my hair back in a white head scarf to keep my braids out of my face. Namor opted to put on some of the white linen pants and top that were in my room's closet; we can't find the shorts that he tossed. He looks good though, like really good. Like good enough for me to forget about food good.

He sees me staring with lust in my eyes, "Behave yourself"

"How am supposed to when you look like that?" I laugh "ready?"

Yes, but I will meet you there. I need to check in with Namor and Attuma first.

"Okay," I say smiling "See you soon" He kisses me and we part ways

----------

I enter the dining area and see a large spread of breakfast food and an assortment of fruits and vegetables on the giant table. Shuri, Romanda, Okoye, Ayo, M'baku, Riri, Peter, and Bucky were all sitting around the table eating and talking.

"I hope I'm not too late," I say as I enter

"Of course not," Shuri says "Help yourself and have a seat"

I grab a plate and fill it with fruits and veggies and have a seat next to Peter.

He does nothing but looks at me funny

"Peter you wipe that smirk off your face before I kick your ass" I whisper to him

"Alright, Alright." He pauses, "Did you have fun?" he jokes

Ignoring him, I look away and pay my attention to Okoye, "We missed you last night. How was sparring with Attuma?"

She begins to shuffle in her seat a bit, "It was fine." she says, "How was everyone's night?" she asks successfully changing the subject

Weird

We all talk and laugh about last night's antics. It's been a while since Peter and I hung out with friends like this; actually, I suppose they're family now.

M'Baku speaks up, "Where's Nakia, Ross, and the Talokans?"

"Nakia and Ross left this morning," Shuri says, "I'm not sure about the others"

"Namor, Attuma, & Namora should be here soon; Namor just wanted to check in with them first."

"You saw Namor ?" Shuri asks

"Yea we ran into each other in the hallway on the way here." I try to convincingly say

"Hmm okay." Shuri

Oh god is she on to me?

I continue to eat my food and see bucky fuming in his seat.

Fuck he knows

Just when I thought the situation couldn't get worse, Namor walks in, "Hello everyone, may I join?"

"Of course. Come sit fish man." M'baku says

Namor nods and makes his way to the chair next to me and smiles making me blush a little.

"Where's my New bestie Namora?" Shuri asks

"And Attuma?" Okoye says, all of us looking at her with curiosity, "what? I'm just curious"

Oh my god they boned. NO WAY

"I sent them home to check on my people, I shall be joining soon."

My heart drops, just now realizing he has to go back home, this man has a whole kingdom to take care of. Seeing the sadness on my face Namor lays his hand on my leg and continues to speak, "Surely I shall be back soon"

"Good" Romanda speaks up, "I know our people started off on the wrong foot, and you did try to kill me.."

"And me" Riri interrupts

Romanda continues, "but we are now united, you are always welcome."

Namor bows his head, "thank you."

"Millaenyia I did the liberty of bringing you those books from our Library that we were talking about. They're there at the end of the table. The elders and I agree that you should keep them."

"Thank you, Queen Mother," I get up and make my way to the books. Some of them look like old spells books, the others diaries. When I pick one up I feel an intense energy hit me; I feel pain everywhere. My eyes roll back and I drop the book. My vision begins to disappear as I hear my friends scream for me rushing to my aid. Before I'm fully out I hear Peter calling my name on the verge of tears.

What's happening to me?

#Fanfic #Peter Parker #Spiderman #Black panther #Wakanda forever #Namor #Tenoch huerta #K’uk’ulkan #Original character #black girl oc #Namor x reader #Mcu shuri #Mcu namor #Mcu #Talokan trio #Talokan #Attuma attoye #Namora #Marc spector #Jake lockely #Steven grant #Wanda maximoff #Scarlet witch #Bucky #James buchanan barnes #Sebastian stan #Tom holland #namor smut

[cakeinpants]

Musical Soiree: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

So @brassclaws-of-oddworld and I finally finished our Musical Soiree RP thread (the one we started back in August, wow time really does fly) and I wanted to share it along with some sketches. Won't show all of it cause its a lotta words, but I tried to include as much as possible x)

"Read more" to read the thread~

....

Roast elume, paramite galantine, scrab pâté, warm salad, cold salad and warm salad that went cold, fruits and cheeses, and just Odd knows what else, all complemented by champoogne, porange wine, liqueur with mudokon tears, and so on. Pat had to help Kyung navigate all this variety by explaining to her which dishes were made of what and how strong certain drinks were. But the female couldn't help but notice that the mudokon wasn't taking anything himself while showing her all the different foods.

While she listened very carefully to Pat’s explanations of the extravagant array of food and drinks, Kyung took note of which ones she’d most likely have a positive reception to, and which ones could be wild cards to her tastes. All of the meat-based ones appealed to her right off the bat… *But, she did need to eat her greens…* The alcohol was out of the question, not if she wanted to keep her head on straight for the entire event. Of course, the fact that Pat wasn’t taking anything– Not even a single sample– was a bit concerning.

“Do you have a favorite out of all these lovely foods, Oddett? They all look exquisite, it’s hard to pick which one to try first!” Kyung inquired, apparently deciding to try and be sneaky and gauge whether the dancer could even eat any of what was being served.

"Oh, well..." Pat paused, running his eye over the table. "Honestly, I'm not picky, so getting to try anything from here would be a big enjoyment." He shrugged, smiling casually. "Well, except the alcohol... I don't handle it very well." He chuckled a bit awkwardly. "But you can feel free to take whatever catches your eye." He added, noticing a bit of hesitancy in her demeanor, but not knowing the real reason for it. While he didn't seem to find Kyung's question strange or suspicious, Pat kept standing with his hands clasped modestly in front of him, not touching any of the food.

Kyung remained thoughtfully staring at the buffet as she listened to Pat’s reply. Nope, he wasn’t taking anything… From the sounds of it, Kyung was starting to piece together the conclusion that her hunch was correct. At least, part of it had to be. That’s when small bits and pieces of logic began to surface, along with a memory of what Pat pointed out during their first encounter.

He was a Mudokon. A Mudokon that had more privilege than many, sure, but still a Mudokon with great amounts of restriction still applied to him. No doubt, he was kept on an extremely strict diet to maintain his physique… Ah, now it made sense to her! For a moment, the concern was finally soothed now that things clicked in her mind, but that assurance gave way to a new issue that manifested itself out of genuine sympathy— She was going to need to enjoy the food while he stood by empty-handed.

“Hmmm… Perhaps just a sample of roast elume and salad for now!~” Kyung eventually decided, forcing herself to not get cold feet about eating. “Such rich delicacies, I doubt I’d need too much in one sitting,” She mused in order to try and compensate for abnormal silence up until that point. Now, it was a matter of willing herself to take small bites of the samples… Odd knows, it was a feat that was made even harder to do while feeling bad about eating in front of the dancer...

#oddtumblr #oddworld #pat #kyung #sketches #rp thread #web comics #webcomic

[blackfangedreaper]

My asks are open, please go wild in there. Not too wild ... Weirdos.

#de rants #no srsly what are y'all up too? #let's interact

[mister13eyond]

Hmmm how about 🔪 for the ask game!

AH THIS ONE IS FUN

🔪 (More than one OC) If your all of your OCs played among us, who'd be the best imposter? And who'd be the worst?

I think first and FOREMOST it would take a bit of coaching to get Asphodel to understand HOW to play Among Us, bless their heart, they are NOT a gamer. But once they actually GOT it...

I think Vin would LOVE being impostor; he'd absolutely be on a rampage murdering people left and right, venting away, pretending to investigate the murder all the while.

Asphodel, on the other hand? Would be AWFUL at being impostor. They'd be far too nervous to kill anyone unless they had a perfectly clear opening with NO possible witnesses; they'd hesitate for fear of getting caught, and they'd be sweating buckets trying to act inconspicuous during the game itself. They'd 100% be the kind of impostor that never gets a chance to kill anyone because they were too nervous & winds up letting the crewmates win without a single death.

That all changes, however, once the crew meeting gets called. Because, you see... Asphodel used to be a celestial attorney. So you bet your ass that a.) they can hold up to the pressure of being cross-examined- there's not a single crack in their facade- and b.) when they're the one investigating, no one stands a chance. They'd have some Ace Attorney style rapid-fire cross examination going on- and when were you in medbay? mmhmm, and what tasks had you already completed at that time? tell me how did you get to medbay from the cafeteria- are you aware those are linked via vent?

Vin would try his best to throw them off, but they ABSOLUTELY see through his particular brand of feigned innocence- Vin's favorite tactic is "me? Cute lil Vin? I could never" [bats his big ol eyelashes] but once they've lived together long enough, Asphodel would absolutely see through that. They know he's a little bastard and they're not falling for his act for a SECOND.

Likewise, when Vin tries to convince others that Asphodel is the killer, it NEVER works out and he gets thrown out the airlock because Asphodel continuously points out how terribly suspicious it is that he's pointing fingers. They ALWAYS manage to flip it around on him, it's the WORST, they're just too damn good! 😫🤣

(Among Us games, consequently, get Heated.)

#the worst however is if they're in a big enough game to both be impostors #because then you have them as a Terrible duo #with vin going on a rampage and Asphodel covering his tracks with their brand of airtight alibi #they're a menace together #my ocs #ocs #asphodel #vin #ask meme #oc ask meme

[ktlurry]

CAIN - 8. Mr. Lisslow

As Cassandra walks cautiously behind the tall stranger, she can't help but feel uneasy being around him. Although he helped her get out of that scuffle in the Iceberg Lounge, something doesn't seem right about a random man helping out a young lady he barely knows. On top of that, he isn't just some regular man. Cassandra could tell by how he handled some of those guards at the lounge that this guy has had some legitimate training. Could he be some kind of cop or federal agent? Or maybe even another masked vigilante? Gotham seems to have a lot of those these days.

The stranger glances back at Cassandra to witness her cold stare beaming at him. He then looks forward and continues down the street.

Stranger: We aren't too much further from my place. You can hang out there for a while.

Cassandra continues to stare at the stranger and makes no response at all. The stranger then looks back at her again this time to actually engage in actual conversation.

Stranger: So do you choose not to speak or are you physically unable to?

Cassandra just shakes her head and continues you glare at him.

Dane: Hmmm interesting. By the way, my name is Dane. Dane Lisslow.

Cassandra has no idea who that is, but at least she has a name now. Dane Lisslow. Now all she needs to know is who trained him and why is he helping her.

Dane: I work for the special crimes unit for Gotham. I heard about the situation at Black Mask's place, so when I saw you in the Iceberg Lounge, I assumed you were the mystery girl. You fit the description perfectly. Plus no normal girl would have broken that man's hand the way you did.

Although Dane just admitted to who he is, Cassandra is still not fully convinced of his intentions. Someone from the special crimes unit usually doesn't have that kind of combat prowess.

Dane: So you like the Bat, huh? I saw your little shirt underneath with his symbol.

Cassandra then lightens her mood a bit with the mere mention of The Batman. Not many people know that she idolizes him. Before she had gotten to Gotham she would always hear stories and see the news about The Batman and all he does. He's well trained just like her, but uses his skills to help people and not hurt them like she was taught to do. Something Casandra secretly admires and would love to see in action.

Dane: Yea the guy is good. Really good.

Cassandra looks down at the ground as she tries to contain her slight grin.

Dane: But he could be doing better if you asked me.

Cassandra's grin went away instantly as she went back to glaring at Dane. She didn't quite understand what he meant by that.

Dane: I mean if he really wanted to make Gotham better and take crime off the street, he should kill some of these lunatics. Instead, he puts them in jail or insane asylums just for them to be released again or even escape.

They both approach a garage-like building just at the corner of the street where Dane resides.

Dane: If I were the Bat, I would have ended these lunatics years ago.

Cassandra is kind of surprised to hear that coming from him. It just makes her even more suspicious of who he is. Dane then pulls out a set of keys which he uses to unlock the door of the complex. The both of them enter the complex which is small and only consists of a tiny desk with an open laptop sitting on it, a small tan couch, an old Harley Davidson motorcycle by the garage door, and a bunch of plaques and military awards. In the back of the complex was a plain black door likely leading to another room in the small space.

Dane: I know it's not much, but it's a spot you can crash until we figure something out.

Cassandra looks at Dane with a blank look on her face as if she has no idea what he's referring to. She then looks over at the military plaques and walks up to them. She can't read them of course, but she can tell they are important to who this Dane guy is.

Dane: I was a marine before joining the crimes unit. A damn good one too.

Cassandra not at all interested in what Dane has to say then looks over at the black door. She walks up to it and tries the doorknob to reveal that it is locked from the inside.

Dane: That's just my closet. Nothing interesting in there but old gear.

Cassandra's suspicion grows more. Why lock up old military gear? Cassandra is eager to know what is behind that door, but that might have to wait till later. She then walks over to the tan couch, sits down, and glances up at Dane.

Dane: Just sit tight. I'm going to go make a phone call real quick to my captain. Then we can figure out where to go from here. Be right back.

Dane then exits the complex to go out front. After watching him leave out the door, Cassandra then looks back at the black door. This is her only chance to see what's really behind there and maybe find out more about who Dane Lisslow is. She gets up from the couch and approaches the door looking over her shoulder to ensure Dane doesn't walk in on her. She looks into the keyhole to see if she could peek inside the room through the slit but to no avail. She then reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a small kunai knife and attempts to break the lock with it. Cassandra struggles to get the door open, but she is persistent in seeing what's inside. She continues to giggle the knife into the door, but it doesn't seem to be making any progress at all.

After several minutes of trying to break down this door, Cassandra hears Dane approach the front door to enter back into the complex. Cassandra tries to get her knife out of the door, but it's wedged in there tight. She Slightly panics and tries to pull on the knife harder to get it out. The front door then opens and Dane enters.

Dane: Alright here s what we are going to do...

Dane fully enters the complex and looks over at the couch to see Cassandra sitting there as if she had never moved. He then glances over at the door which remains closed and seems untouched.

Dane: We are going to go meet up with my squad and then go from there. Sound good?

Cassandra nods then stands up from the couch to walk towards the door. She glances back at the door for a quick second then proceeds to exit the complex. She is overly curious about what it is he is hiding in there and almost doesn't want to leave just yet.

Dane: Wait. I have to grab something right quick.

Dane then pulls a set of keys out of his pocket then approaches the black door. Cassandra doubles back into the complex with her face lighting up as he puts the key into the doorknob. As Dane twists the key, you hear a series of electronic switches and locks activate from behind the door. Cassandra realizes that she wouldn't have been able to get past all of those locks regardless. As Dane opens the door, Cassandra immediately walks up closer to peek at what's inside.

Dane: Eager, huh? I told you it's nothing but old gear of mine.

Dane was right. It was just a closet with tactical gear hanging and an old duffle bag. He then leans over to the duffle back and pulls out a holstered 9-millimeter pistol from it.

Dane: This is what I need.

Dane then wraps the holster holding the handgun around his waist.

Dane: Alright now we can head out.

Cassandra (slightly disappointed) starts to make her way to the exit of the complex, but right before she turns fully around she notices something peeking out of the duffel bag in the closet. Laying in the bag with half of it still covered up appears to be an orange mask with a slit for the eye but no opening for the mouth. She can't tell what's on the other half of the mask, but even so, Cassandra has never seen that mask before. Dane then closes the closet door and all of the mechanical locks automatically set themselves. Growing even more curious by the second, Cassandra isn't fully sure that Mr. Lisslow is who he says he is.

Dane then grabs Cassandra by her shoulder on their way out of his complex.

Dane: Come on. We can't keep my people waiting much longer.

Cassandra looks at his hand on her shoulder then looks up at Dane with a grimacing look then shrugs his hand off her shoulder. She doesn't like when people touch her. Dane then gives her a slight scowl and walks ahead of her.

Dane: Just follow me, kid.

As Dane starts to walk down the street, Cassandra paces very slowly behind him still not sure if he can be trusted. She learns a little about him, but at the same time grows even more suspicious of him. It's as if she's back a square one on who really is Dane Lisslow.

#cassandra cain #cassandra wu san #cass cain #batgirl #black bat #orphan #dc #dcu #dcmultiverse #dc fanfic #dc comics #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic author #deathstroke #dane lisslow #batman #batman comics #dc batman #dc batgirl

[pensando-thoughts]

Saw the fnaf movie and I want to have a talk cause I have all these thoughts about it and I haven’t felt this way since stranger things season 4 lol.

I’m just confused (?) cause like there was a lot of different pieces of the lore in just one movie. So like before I go into breaking down my thoughts I want to say what my expectations are before I saw this movie so there’s some understanding. I thought this movie was gonna give a cohesive big picture type story on the lore. I thought that since there was a rumor it was gonna be 5 movies, I was under the impression that this movie gonna lay the lore out. I was really hoping for a cohesive story.

So now the movie I liked parts of the movie I liked the fact that attention to detail on the lore and the fans were in mind. What I don’t like is the storyline they decided to do, just to simplify my feelings for people who haven’t seen the movie I ultimately thought that they put bits and pieces of the lore in the movie i don’t wanna say for no reason but it did make me go hmmm what just happened. I don’t think the story was…good?. The costume and filming, and actors did a good job! I really wanna emphasize that lol. Thank you to @raminbootss on tik Tok for posting a slid show of the lore for the games.

‼️Spoilers after this/ I essentially write an essay and ramble please read at your own discretion. ‼️

So I’m assuming people who’ve seen the movie are reading this, but I’m going to briefly write down the movies lore.

Mike and Abby are siblings, there was a third sibling called Garret

Garret is kidnapped from the woods by William Afton

Mike has ptsd because he was there’s at the kidnapping but can’t remember the kidnapper’s face (guilt)

Mike induces dreams to revisit the memory to force himself to remember the kidnapper’s face

Vanessa comes in is a cop and later is established as Aftons daughter

Afton kidnapped Garret and other children Vanessa helps Afton cover it up

It’s a stupid simplification, but this is just so it’s understandable. I’m gonna essentially attack this one by one. To me it doesn’t make sense why Garret was kidnapped in the woods by Afton specifically. I feel like it’s so random/unnecessary to have it in the woods because it’s outside of Aftons mo in the established lore. If the story is to have Mike have zero familiar ties to Afton I think a better route to just have Garret be kidnapped so that way Mike is projecting on to the ghost children as a way to have redemption for not saving Garret. The movie sets it up this way in the first half where it felt like there was gonna be this big reveal with maybe Mike having some sort of connection to the kidnapper. However Vanessa throws that all off with being Afton’s daughter. Like Fanf 4 they use the concepts of dreams and memories cool nothing wrong with that I think that it was a good way for the ghost children to communicate with mike. My biggest grief I think is that Afton is controlling the ghost children. I think it would’ve been so much better to have the children ask Mike for help to find peace. This also would’ve been a better way for Mike’s character to deal with his grief of losing his brother cause now he can move on.

Moving on to Vanessa, I think that the introduction to Vanessa is done too early. Vanessa’s character in this movie is a caretaker to the animatronics because she feels guilty that her dad killed these kids. Which is fine I don’t mind this being a thing since it’s up to debate on security breach being cannon or not. I just think that the setup of Vanessa is done poorly maybe it’s the fact she was a cop where she honestly had no business being at Freddy’s instead of doing her job before the reveal of her being Afton’s daughter. They could’ve made her the morning shift security guard I think that would’ve made better sense cause now she can have a way to talk to Mike. She’s just is suspicious off the bat when she’s a cop, and can’t establish trust with Mike. I think they’re was a better way for her to have a redemption because Mike and her share a similarity, the both share guilt of not doing something to help these kids that died.

Let’s get into Afton so the set up for him is actually great because if I remember correctly during the beginning of the game’s release a theory did float around that maybe phone guy is the killer so he had a great set up I just don’t understand why the reveal of him being Afton is done so early. On one side I understand the fact that everybody knew that Matthew lillard was already gonna be Afton from the moment the trailer is revealed. It’s hard to make that twist be entertaining when the audience knows what you are going to do. On the other hand I don’t think Afton was utilized properly. So many different routes could’ve been taken. Also why did Afton kidnap Garret in the woods??? Anton’s m.o is he kidnaps children from the pizzeria in the bunny suit which they kept in the movie for the five children why kidnap Garret? He wasn’t even stuffed in a suit. In my opinion the movies opening scene should’ve been taken place in Freddy’s. This is blumhouse they’ve done horror they’re could’ve been a really strong suspense scene of watching this kid get kidnapped or seeing this kid get in the suit literally anything and really playing off the audience’s anxiety. If you do it this way you can still have Mike relive this memory. Anyways it’s revealed at the end of this movie that Afton is controlling the ghost children with a drawing so that they do as they’re told. Which like sure okay? I understand that they wanted to put drawings to be involved but I don’t know if I buy it. They also just kill Afton how he’s established to be killed in a spring lock suit how are you gonna set up a sequel that way? There is no build up or like finally you get what you deserve. The bad guy we watch died and sure he says I will come back but like…idk I think ultimately it doesn’t make me want to see a sequel because they’re was no cliffhanger or suspense. The vibe is just off. Matthew did such a good job though that phone scene really hyped up everything.

I tried talking about this to my sister but she said that they wanted to open this up to newer audiences. I think that’s lame because when the first game got released the hype about it was the mystery what is the bite of ‘87 who killed these kids, THE LORE. This movie doesn’t do that it answers all the questions in the first movie into a pretty little bow of oh Afton did it and now the ghost children kill him the end. The video-game went viral proving itself that the story set up will bring in a new audience that mikes background had to be changed. I feel like Mike is the catalyst for Afton to be caught so for it to be changed is a really huh moment for me.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #shit post #ramblings #i have a lot of thoughts #five nights at freddy's #movie review

[desertgremlin]

OMG I love Zoya! She is so bitchy (sorry for using that word) but I love it. She kind of reminds me of Blair from Gossip Girl. Like they are both beautiful, vain, unkind people but they really love themselves and are fierce and fearless. I know Zoya's personality improves and there is a reason why she is the way she is. I appreciate that she grows but I also love her flaws lol.

And yes, the show is really well casted. Like obviously it isn't going to be 100% accurate (like, it would have been cool if they cast an actual fat actress for Nina or if Wylan had red hair) but the actors really capture the essence of the characters, which is a testament to their talent. And yeah, congrats to the person who cast Tamar and Tolya, that was *chef's kiss*

I'll keep watching to see how I feel about Matthias. Like, I get it. I do get why he is the way he is. But I just feel like he is so resistant to opening up his mind and that's what bothers me. Like, I know it's hard to let go of your upbringing. But I just feel like he really doesn't want to! It takes him soooo long. Like even when he has proof (Nina!) that his beliefs are not true and are harmful he is still skeptical and I'm like, these people are very patient with you because I would have knock you upside your head already and kicked you to the curb, you little baby. That time when Inej tells him that maybe he isn't enough for Nina, I was like, facts! 😂😂😂

And yeah I feel like...I'm just gonna call him Nikolai lol. Nikolai was always the way he was presented in the show. But because we don't know who he is right off the bat, I was suspicious. Like it wasn't that much of a twist, like you could def figure out who he was in the books, so I was like, this is annoying, just be real. And he also was coming on to Alina, which from her perspective I'm sure is great, but I was like....hmmm. I was always team Mal, but he was being dumb as hell when that was happening so I get why people were like, Nikolai and Alina should be together. And I also just found it suspicious when anyone came onto her, because it was like, are you trying to use her? I was team Mal because she wanted him, but none of them were that good enough for her haha.

Basically! I always love the women and give side eye to the men, but what else is new? 😂😂😂😂

Zoya is, like, that bitch and I kinda love it. I need to pick Rule of Wolves back up and finish reading her whole arc.

True!! It's definitely not 100% (hollywood 😤 beauty standards etc 😤) but I like that the actors have got a lot of the character mannerisms/vibes down. Love seeing them be brought to life like that on screen.

Hahah, loving women and side-eyeing men is your brand bestie and it's the most valid stance ever. Nina and Alina could use your counsel, you would've had them all kicking all these men to the curb and living their best lives instead 😂

Let me know if you've seen more of the new season, like no rush I just wanna know what you think of the pacing of these storylines 👀 And some of these character developments 👀👀

btw did we ever talk about how GoL s2 ended??? I feel like I took a while to get the time to watch the last few eps and I can't remember if we came back around to it, what did you thinkkk.

#ask #bestie anon

[homosnapeiens]

can you make bernard a batman conspirator?? pls i need to see this!!!

i’ve actually been thinking abt this a lot. so basically bernard is a huge believer that batman and bruce wayne are the same person. he is a part of “the butts match” community and it is very funny when he brings it up in conversation with tim. here are some examples.

-

tim: *literally just eating*

bernard: so tim....

tim: *looks up* yes?

bernard: does bruce ever go out at night...like really late?

tim: *confused* uhm...yeah? i guess?

bernard: *clasps his hands and leans closer* do you know where he goes?

tim: i always just assume he’s going to someone’s house to...yknow.

bernard: *leans back and hums suspiciously* okay...that’s a good enough answer.

tim: *raises and eyebrow* wha-

bernard: for now.

-

tim: *watching a movie*

bernard: *stares intently at tim*

tim: *glances over at bernard* what?

bernard: what do you think of batman?

tim: why?

bernard: just answer the question.

tim: *looking back at the tv* i don’t know. he seems like a bit of an asshole.

bernard: how so??

tim: i mean that whole shadow thing. could be really scary if someone is...idk just standing in an alley or something.

bernard: *nods* yeah i can see that.

tim: why the sudden interest in batman?

bernard: *smirks* oh no reason.

-

bernard: *walks in tim’s room holding a tablet* tim. i have important research i need help on.

tim: *looks up from his laptop* oh for school? yeah i can help with that-

bernard: *shoves tim’s laptop off the bed* look!

tim: *frowns* that was my favorite laptop.

bernard: *pushes the tablet into tim’s hands* you can buy a new one. now look!

tim: *looks at the tablet* this is a powerpoint about...batman’s true identity?

bernard: *nods aggresively* go to page 7.

tim: *shocked* why are there 35 pages?

bernard: hush just look at page 7.

tim: *reading aloud* potential identity 7...bruce wayne??

tim: *looks up at bernard* you think bruce is batman??

bernard: *pointing at the tablet* look at the evidence!!

tim: *sighs* it’s just two pictures of..what the fuck bernard why do you have a photo of bruce’s ass on your tablet??

bernard: *whispering* the butts match.

tim: *makes unintelligible whining noise*

-

*meeting bruce*

tim: bruce meet bernard! my boyfriend!

bruce: *holds his hand out to bernard* nice to meet you bernard. tim has told me a lot about you!

bernard: *takes his hand and inspects it* hmmm

bruce: *confusedly looks to tim*

tim: *shrugs*

bernard: *hums* you have quite calloused hands mr.wayne...do a lot of..i don’t know....punching people?

tim: bernard no-

bruce: *raises an eyebrow* excuse me?

bernard: *chuckles* i’m just joking. ready for lunch?

tim & bruce: *nod hesitantly*

*30 minutes later*

bernard: so bruce. i have a question for you.

tim: *looks suspiciously at bernard*

bruce: yes?

bernard: how do you feel about batman?

tim: *groans* bernard-

bruce: *raises an eyebrow* i think he does a lot of good for gotham.

bernard: *nods* you would think that wouldn’t you...

tim: *covers his face with his hands* please-

bruce: what do you mean by that?

bernard: never mind...but just for jokes...how do you feel about furries?

tim: *slams his head into the table*

-BONUS 1-

tim: *standing by the coffee maker*

*clicking noise sounds behind him*

tim: *turns around* bernard? what the hell are you doing

bernard: *holding a camera* i had to.

tim: did you take a photo of my ass?

bernard: it’s for science!

tim: *exasperated sigh* why the HELL do you need a photo of my ass?!

bernard: *grabs a photo of nightwing from seemingly nowhere* i have to tim

tim: you have to what?

bernard: *puts the photos next to each other and gasps* the butts match...

tim: excuse me?!?!?

(let’s just say a phone call was made to a very amused dick grayson later that day)

-BONUS 2-

tim: bernard i have to tel you something. take a seat please.

bernard: *warily sits down* why do i feel like i’ve been called to the principals office??

tim: *sighs* you aren’t in trouble i just have something to tell you. and it’s big.

bernard: *gasps* your pregnant?!???

tim: *chokes on his coffee* what?!? no!!! bernard i physically cannot birth children!

bernard: oh right sorry.

tim: *clears his throat* as i was saying. bernard....i’m red robin.

bernard: *blinks* really? you aren’t fucking with me?

tim: no i am not fucking with you.

bernard: are you telling me...this whole time i’ve been shipping my boyfriend with superboy?!?!

tim: you WHAT?!?

bernard: omg does this mean that-

tim: yes bruce wayne is batman.

bernard: I FUCKING KNEW IT!

tim: now what is this about you shipping me with superboy.

bernard: *pulling out his phone* quiet tim i have angry phone calls to make to bruce wayne.

tim: why?

bernard: *narrows his eyes* he hit me with the batmobile.

tim: *spots out his coffee* WHAT?!?

bernard: *grins* just kidding i just want to leave many voicemails with bat puns for him.

#the butts match #dc universe #batfam #bruce wayne #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #batman #red robin #bi tim drake #conspiracies #incorrect quotes

[beels-burger-babe]

The Façade of the Suitor - Pt. 2

***Wow! You guys are really digging this series! Thank you so much for your support 🥰🥰🥰 I don't get to share OCs often, so it's really reassuring to see you guys take to Harlow. She's a character, that's for sure 😅😅 Thanks for all the love! - B*** Summary: MC catches the eye of Lady Harlow, a higher demoness who has had a small feud with the brothers for centuries. She's determined to steal MC from them and keep MC under her wing. The brothers, however, are determined not to let that happen. Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

After a week had passed since the ball, Lucifer had dared to hope that maybe that had been the end of things and that Harlow would just leave him and you alone. But fate had never been on his side. A letter arrived in the mail, sealed with a horrifyingly familiar purple stamp and her nauseating fragrance. It was, of course, addressed to you.

Lucifer's nose wrinkled in distaste. He'd have to dispose of this before you ever caught sight of it. He had turned to do exactly that when he bumped into Satan and dropped the letter. Satan sighed and bent down to pick it up. "I thought that you of all people would be capable of watching where you're," he stopped short as he finally looked at the letter. Satan's jaw clenched as he looked back at Lucifer. "Why in Diavolo's name are you in contact with her again?" Lucifer sighed and tried to take the letter back, Satan stepped out of his reach. He glared at the angry demon. "Not that it's any of your business-" "Not my business?!" Satan snapped before Lucifer could finish his explanation. "She turned you against all of us and nearly tore this family a part and you don't think it's my business if you're in contact with that- that- that snake again?!"

Lucifer growled at the reminder of his past failure. "If I had a choice, I would wipe her foul existence from the face of this realm, but I can't. I loath that woman as much as you do. The letter isn't addressed to me. It's to MC."

Satan's eyes widened and quickly looked down at the letter, seeing your name scrawled in her disgustingly perfect cursive font. He dropped the letter as though it had burned him. "We can't let them see this. Harlow shouldn't even know MC exists! How the fuck did this happen?"

Lucifer picked up the letter, " The exchange program ball. Near the end of the evening, MC and I were relaxing near a wall and Harlow approached us." Satan looked at his brother as though he had two heads. "And you just let her?" This quickly earned the younger demon another glare. "We were at a public event where I was representing our House and Diavolo and MC was representing the human realm. There wasn't much I could do without causing a scene." Satan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. "Of course! You'd let Harlow sink her claws into MC just so you can protect your reputation. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment." Beel stepped out of the kitchen and into the room at the sound of the yelling. "What's going on?" "Noth-" "Harlow's trying to get to MC." The "father and son" duo sneered at each other. Beel's eyes widened as his face paled. "Well, we aren't going to let her, right? We can stop her this time. Now we know her tricks. It won't be like last time?" he was staring directly at Lucifer. The eldest felt his stomach twist and churn guiltily at the desperation in Beel's stare. They all knew from experience just how cunning and manipulative Harlow could be. She had targeted Lucifer specifically, and because he let down his guard, his whole family soon became infected by the demoness venom. He refused to let the same happen to you. Lucifer turned on his heel and threw the letter into the fireplace. The three brothers watched as it slowly was consumed by the flames and turned to ash. "Tell the others about what happened. There's no doubt that Harlow will attempt to reach MC again. It's our duty to stop that from happening," Lucifer spoke up. Beel nodded right away before taking off to obey the command. Satan sighed and glanced at Lucifer, "You know this won't stop her. She'll figure out a way to get to MC." Lucifer continued watching the flames. The fire's glow reflecting in his obsidian eyes like a memory flickering in the darkness. "Maybe so, but at the very least it will give us time to come up with a plan on what to do when she does." In the end, Satan had been right. The brothers worked tirelessly together to intercept any letters, bouquets, or baskets that had been sent for you. Asmo kept a collection of the bouquets and gifts in his room, and simply told you that they were objects of admiration from his fans. You had walked in on Beel shuffling through the mail one day, and he had managed to fluster out an excuse before hurrying out of the room and shoving the most recent letter into his mouth. Mammon became even clingier than usual and was always by your side. Although he was physically with you, his mind and eyes were always looking around you for any signs of the demoness that he was trying to avoid. Satan had worked with Solomon to put an enchantment on the House's gates that caused anything that had recently touched Harlow's hands to be incinerated as it passed through the gate. Levi had been forcing you to watch the top ten anime betrayals and any anime with a manipulative or toxic antagonist in hopes that it would help you recognize them in Harlow if she ever got to you and that you would do the right thing and choose your real best friend him (and I suppose the others as well). Belphegor would purposefully fall asleep on you as much as possible to prevent you from leaving the House and therefore heightening the risk of Harlow coming to meet you personally. Lucifer had begun to do his own research on Harlow, once more, and was looking back on his own past experiences with the demoness to gain wisdom on how to outwit her. Despite all of their efforts, it wasn't enough. You came down to breakfast, looking complexed but intrigued as you held a piece of paper with a dreadfully purple broken seal on the top. The brothers froze as Harlow's familiar perfume reached their noses. Levi swallowed his food as he looked at you nervously. "M-MC, what...what do you have there?" You blinked up at them and held up the paper. "It's a letter from

Lady Harlow. A bat flew through my window this morning with this attached to its foot. According to the letter, she's tried more normal means of communication, but had no luck. Hmm, I wonder why?" you pondered out loud as you continued reading the letter. The brothers exchanged worried looks. Lucifer straightened his posture. "What else does it say?" You barely looked over at him as you responded. "Oh, she has invited me to a private luncheon at her manor. Apparently, she'd like to get to know me better." Your words caused everyone at the table to stiffen. "Seems suspicious to me," Belphie stated as he rested his head on your shoulder. "You shouldn't go. She's probably planning to kill you or something but is just pretending to be nice to get you to let your guard down." You smirked down at him. "Hmmm, sounds familiar," despite your joking tone, you noticed the room tense and Belphie looked away in shame. You frowned and placed a hand on his arm. "I...I was joking, Belphie. You know I've forgiven you for that. You've proved that you've changed. We're okay," you looked around at the others, finally picking up on the tension in the room. "What's going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?" Satan sighed and met your eyes. "Harlow is the Lady of Manipulation. She thrives off of playing with others' emotions and desires to get her own twisted wants." "She's dangerous," Lucifer added. You were shocked to see that he was seemingly unable to meet your eyes. Instead, he stared at his plate as though lost in a memory. "She's incredibly skilled at what she does and will worm her way into your thoughts before you're even aware of what's happening. She's cunning and sly," he finally lifted his head to look at you. You shivered at the intense urgency and regret in his gaze. "Lady Harlow is not one that you should give even a second of your time to. If you give her even a single inch, she will take a mile." You frowned and looked back at the letter. It was filled with so many kind words and eloquent phrasing. She had seemed nice enough at the ball, and she went through all this trouble just to send you an invitation. "Thank you for the warning," you spoke sincerely as you looked at the others. "I'll be sure to keep your words in mind and be careful." Mammon scoffed and crossed his arms. "You make it sound as if you're going." "I am." The room burst into a mix of angry proclamations, commands that you were not going, and pleas for you to listen to them. You smiled sympathetically at the brothers. "I know you're worried, but it would be extremely rude to reject a personal invitation like this from a noble, especially after all the effort she went through to have it delivered. I should at least go to see what she wants. I'll have my D.D.D. on me and you can guys can ask me all the questions you want as soon as I get back." Lucifer's eyes searched your expression in a mix of frustration and desperation. "MC did you not hear a single word I just said? One visit is all she'll need. I really must urge you not-" "Lucifer stop," the room fell silent as Lucifer's mouth snapped shut. His gaze hardened at your use of a command. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. "I'm sorry, but this isn't your choice. I know you seem to have...something going on with Harlow, and I will take caution from your words during my visit. But I'm sure I'll be fine. I live with and have befriended seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. What's a silly noblewoman going to do to me?" You gently lifted Belphie's head off of you and rose. "I should get ready for the school day. I'm sorry guys. I'll see you all later." As you left, a small piece of hope from within the brothers left with you. Lucifer snarled and downed a glass of wine. "Right," he said bitterly and looked over at Satan, "onto plan c."

*** I hope you guys enjoyed it! I promise you will find out exactly what went down between Harlow and the brothers later on. But for now, let the games begin 😈 Thanks again for all the support and love you've all been giving this series!***

Taglist: @cosmixbun @sufzku @simeonspebble @lovevictoire @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @peachyeevee13 @otome-scribbles @azureusmoonie @poly-bi-mf

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me fan fic #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demon brothers #obey me demon oc #lady harlow #demon oc #gn!mc #gender neutral main character #obey me main character #my writing #fan fiction #fan fic #the facade of the suitor

[ackerslut]

doing science: a varigo drabble

ao3

“Well, what if I gave you a kiss,” Varian said, sarcastically.

Hugo, hanging precariously from the top of the cabinet, blinked down at him suspiciously.

“You can’t say things like that.”

“What if I gave you two kisses.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Goggles, I’m drunk AND I have three liters of cyanide in this vial. I cannot be stopped.”

“Three kisses.”

“YOU DON’T EVEN WANT TO KISS ME. YOU’RE JUST SAYING THAT TO GET ME DOWN,” Hugo shrieked just as he lost his balance and tumbled straight into his arms.

Or on his arms. Oops.

Varian, now face down on the wood floor, moaned pitifully. “I hate you.”

“I want my kisses.”

“Fuck you.” Varian sat up. His eyes were narrowed. “I said that for science.”

Still seeing double, Hugo blinked at him a few times. “Science, you say.”

“Yeah, I wanted to see if you would come down.”

“Hmmm.” Hugo let Varian roll over so he was facing him instead of the floor. “Did it work?”

“Well,” Varian drew out the word thoughtfully for a moment, like he was examining the end results of one of their experiments. “You’re here now.”

“Sans my kisses,” Hugo pointed out, mournfully. Then, “If you give me my kisses, I’ll get off you.”

Varian’s eyes narrowed. “You drive a hard bargain, Hugo.” Still, he leaned in. “This is, of course, for scientific purposes only.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hugo readily agreed. His eyes were glued to Varian’s plush lips. “And, naturally, we’ll have to conduct numerous experiments under differing conditions to form a cohesive conclus- mmmph. ”

Intoxicated though he was, Hugo had to admit it was a very good kiss. Varian’s lips pressed against his- warm and chaste- before he parted his mouth in invitation. Hugo moaned a little, sweeping his tongue past the seam of his partner’s lips. It was soft and wet and a little sloppy from the odd angle Varian’s body was tilted in, but overall a very very excellent experience.

When Varian finally pulled away for air, Hugo was the perfect mixture of aroused and sated. The two dueling sensations left him chasing the taste of Varian’s lips once again seconds later.

The second kiss was better than the first. Hugo tangled his fingers in Varian’s stupidly soft hair, pulling just hard enough to elicit a soft whimper. In retaliation, Varian’s fingers started wandering lower; down down down down until his palm was pressing up against-

The study door slammed open, causing Hugo to shriek and bump his forehead into Varian’s nose.

“Shi- ” Varian’s hand came away bloody.

Nuru blinked down at them, mouth agape. “What are you two doing?”

“Science.”

“Experimenting,” Hugo said, sulkily. He pressed one hand against Varian’s nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

" ‘ugo stop, I ‘an’t BREATHE.” Varian batted Hugo’s hands away.

“You two are freaks,” Nuru muttered. “I don’t even remember what I came in here for. Ugh.”

“Go away.”

Nuru stuck her tongue out and flounced out of the room, leaving Varian, Hugo, and a puddle of blood.

Hugo stared at Varian. And then the blood. And then Varian again. “Unsuccessful endeavor,” he decided. “We must try again under better controlled conditions.”

“Very true,” Varian agreed, except it sounded like bery two with how he was pinching his nose. “Shall I suggest my bedroom?”

“That,” Hugo said contemplatively, “is a very controlled condition. Lead the way, Goggles.”

And then they did science in Varian’s bed.

#varigo #varian #hugo vat7k #tts #i'm insane rn

[stray-tickles]

Do You Know

Read on AO3

a.n. Turns out that Jon's beholding powers can be turned against him. I blame @rosileeduckie for putting this idea in my head with her fic.

-

Martin had honestly started doing it by accident. It was an unusually warm day, the kind of warm that made him crave something that acknowledged the weather, a cold drink in a park with bread rolls and barbequed meats. He let out a sigh as they lounged on the sofa with the windows open. “You know what I want for dinner?” He asked, waiting for Jon to ask what even though it wasn’t really a question.

Ribs. An evil thought crossed his mind and made him grin. Archivist ribs. The kind that made his boyfriend shriek and squirm and laugh so beautifully. He loved the feeling of him writhing in his arms as his fingers traced over each bone in turn, making Jon melt against him with shaking laughter.

Then he realised that Jon hadn’t responded. Jon was, in fact, staring at him with wide eyes, a deep flush and- Martin noted somewhat suspiciously, his arms locked tightly around his sides.

“What?” He asked, though he had an inkling.

Jon swallowed, not moving his arms from around himself. “Sorry, I- I know you said not to know, but when y-you ask I can’t really help it, a-and…”

Martin grinned. “So, you- you know what I was just thinking about.” It wasn’t a question. Just to be safe.

He nodded, lips twitching with a nervous smile.

Martin turned, leaning closer to him and kneeling on the sofa. “Do you have any thoughts about it?” He asked amusedly.

“Ah-” Jon swallowed, shrinking back and holding his hands out, ostensibly to catch Martin’s own attacking ones, but, well. It also conveniently left his ribcage unguarded.

Martin snickered, taking a moment to appreciate just how adorable and obvious his boyfriend was before striking lightning fast, scribbling his fingers up and down his ribs and sides, drawing out that gorgeous laughter that he loved so much, punctuated with shrieks and snorts as Jon kicked and squirmed and batted at his hands without putting in any effort to actually stopping him or getting away.

That time was an accident.

--

The next time, well, Martin sort of wanted to test it. And tease, a little.

They were grocery shopping; the store wasn’t very crowded but there were a few other people about. Jon was examining an aubergine in the produce section, and it seemed as good a time as any to give it a go.

Martin’s lips quirked when he thought of the set of delicate paintbrushes he’d bought online. How tiny the smallest one was, probably light and thin enough that it could tease inside any wrinkle, never mind the large fluffy one that would doubtless ruin Jon when he subjected his upper ribs to it.

He let his smile become more relaxed. “You know what I want to do when we get home?” Martin asked, keeping his voice as breezy and casual as he could.

Jon wasn’t paying much attention, was about to respond when his mind was hit full force with exactly what Martin wanted to do. The aubergine slipped from his fingers, falling back into the pile of others. His face was on fire.

“Jon?” He looked up at Martin’s face and knew, he knew.

That was on purpose. He glared, wishing he could stop being so damn flustered. “You- you’re awful.” He managed to grind out.

Martin smiled at him. Like a jerk. “Do you know that?”

Why couldn’t the Eye give him the power to know what to say right now? Martin was so fucking smug; he was torturing him with the mental image of what he had planned. Part of Jon wanted to run all the way home and demand that he make good on it immediately, another part of him wanted the ground to swallow him up. “I-I’m going to get you for this.” He hissed.

“Oh yeah?” Martin was unshakable like this. “Can’t wait.”

Jon whined in the back of his throat.

This was decidedly unfair.

--

“Hmmm, do you know what I’m thinking of doing?”

Jon tugged at his arms, squirming wildly and grinning like mad. His hands were pinned under Martin’s knees and the rest of him was pinned under that gaze, helped along by the ideas being fed into his mind at rapid fire. Fingers caressing that spot in between his ribs, feathers dancing between his toes, raspberries over his stomach. Giggles bubbled up inside and he flushed deeper by the second, knowing that Martin was practically spoon-feeding these fantasies to make him more and more flustered, and it was working.

Much more of this and he might just break and beg Martin to do it.

Martin smiled down at his boyfriend, trembling at the thoughts that Martin knew he could sense. His hands bracketed Jon, making no move to tease or tickle beyond those in his head. He watched his reactions, seeing how Jon twitched with each new spot he thought about, how his wobbly smile got wider by the second.

Raspberries to his neck got a twitch of his shoulders, but not much of an attempt to turtle up.

Wiggly fingers at his ribs got a hiccup of a laugh and eyes squeezed shut.

Feather-light tracing of his stomach had him squeaking through sealed lips.

Squeezes to his knees earned the lightest of laughs.

Then a particularly evil thought occurred to Martin, and he knew it was a winner because of how Jon’s eyes snapped open, fixing on his own. Pleading, giddy, desperate. Practically vibrating from anticipation.

“Oh alright.” Martin said, trying not to laugh. “Since you’re basically begging for it.”

He slowly pushed Jon’s T-shirt up until it was bunched at his underarms, leaving his torso completely undefended. Jon squirmed in anticipation, even just the feeling of the air against his bare skin seeming to tickle now.

Martin leaned closer to him, and Jon closed his eyes, legs squirming in anticipation simply because it was a part of him that he could move, at least without incumbering Martin in some way. He was getting better at admitting that he didn’t want to stop this.

A light kiss was pressed to his ribs and Jon squeaked. That wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain about being showered with love from his wonderful boyfriend.

Even if the kisses did send him tumbling into those embarrassing giggles.

Martin fought to keep from smiling too much as he kissed up and down and across Jon’s hypersensitive ribcage. He was sure to suck ever so slightly now and then, to blow gently against the skin after he broke the kiss, to skitter his lips along the bones. The only downside of tickling Jon like this was that Martin couldn’t see his reactions as much. It was a decent trade off though, for getting to shower him with love while tickling him to distraction.

Jon smiled wildly, tugging at his hands through his giggles if only to cover his face. He didn’t know why he was so self-conscious about his smile, but the urge to hide was impossible to resist. Luckily, he wasn’t the one resisting it right now. Every brush of Martin’s lips had him twitching, giggling, feeling like he was full of sparkles and he was going to melt into a pool of laughter on their bed and this wasn’t what Martin had been thinking about. “Ma-Martiiiin!” He managed to complain without laughing.

Feeling a little wicked, Martin didn’t pull his lips away from Jon’s skin to speak. “Yes love?” He asked, getting a wonderful shriek in reaction.

Jon whined. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that this wasn’t what Martin had been thinking about, that it was teasing and light and he loved it, but the other thing was going to drive him utterly out of his mind, and he wanted that, he really wanted it. “Please?”

Martin kissed his lowest rib. “Please what?”

Jon kicked his feet. “Don’t make me say it!”

Martin chuckled to himself. It really was funny how flustered Jon got over this. They both liked it, they both had fun, and still he couldn’t admit it, couldn’t ask for it. Though, he thought, Jon wasn’t the only one. “Okay, I won’t.” He said, raising his head to smile at Jon wickedly. “Just one thing though. Do you know how much this is gonna tickle?”

He watched Jon’s expression, as pleading turned to shocked turned to anticipatory, and didn’t wait one more moment to dive in with his teeth, nibbling gently and mercilessly at Jon’s ribs.

Jon’s mind stuttered for a moment, processing the feeling of sharp, gentle gnawing at his ribcage, before he let out a loud screech, bucking bodily to the point that he actually shifted Martin a little.

Martin laughed, shocked by the intensity of his reaction. “Bloody hell Jon.” He muttered, going back to his meal of archivist ribs to the melody of frantic, hysterical cackling.

No thoughts could cross Jon’s mind. All he could process was the feeling of that unbearable nibbling, all he knew was that that tickled, it really tickled, he was laughing and couldn’t stop, his skin burned as he twisted and shrieked and babbled with laughter.

Then he was gasping for breath as the feeling abated, Jon blinked back tears of laughter looking down at his boyfriend and noticed that he wasn’t the only one taking a very deep breath right now. Oh no.

Jon barely had a moment to realise before Martin blew a very large raspberry against his ribs, earning yet another scream and an even more violent jump than before.

Against his will, Jon seemed to have freed one of his arms. He had lost any remaining will or energy to fight back, instead cackling relentlessly as Martin blew more raspberries over his flaming ribs, nibbling at the bones and overall doing a very good job of tickling him to death.

Martin laughed between his bites, noting how Jon twitched when he did so. There was something so endearing about his archivist’s uncontrollable shrieking laughter. His nibbles and raspberries reached one of the two spaces where Jon had a rib missing, and feeling mischievous, he darted his tongue out, wriggling it over the space.

Jon snorted loudly between fits of laughter, his free hand finally deciding on grasping at his own face, covering one eye and tangling into his messy hair. He was lost awash a sea of tingly sparkling sensation, able to do nothing but feel it, wanting to do nothing but feel it.

Eventually the feeling receded, leaving a trail of sparks along Jon’s nerve endings, lighting him up with giggles though there was nothing left to be causing them. He was flushed and his ribs still buzzed, and he knew that they would definitely be doing that again.

--

To say that Martin’s now frequent teasing had gotten too much for Jon would be a lie. He’d loved every moment of it, and he would love it for every moment that it happened going forwards.

It was just… he wasn’t the fittest of men. His lung capacity had its limits, and some days he got muscle aches even without his boyfriend driving him out of his mind with laughter. All that to say, he might need a break, as much as it pained him to realise.

Martin had never been good at asking for things. Get rejected enough times and that’ll happen. He’d been trying to do better at it with Jon, they’d talked about it. Jon pouring himself a glass of water and Martin, somewhat strangled, asking whether, since he was already up, if he’d mind…

Jon never turned him down. He kissed him every time he asked for something, which Martin tried to think of as an expression of his feelings rather than an attempt to train him into asking.

Still. Some things were a struggle.

Martin shucked off his jumper in the room before going to join his boyfriend, who was seated on the sofa. He got nervous asking for things at the best of times, even without how goddamn flustering this was. But he wanted it, and he should be upfront.

Well.

As upfront as he could be.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jon could judge him; he couldn’t ask either. Martin sat beside him, feeling himself flush at what he was about to do.

He cleared his throat. “Hey- um, d-do you- know- uh- know what I want to do?”

Jon closed his book with a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’d love to Martin, but I ache, and…” He stopped talking as exactly what Martin was thinking about was presented to him. Oh. Ohhhh.

He smirked. “Ah, I see.”

Martin flushed bright red, burying his face in his hands.

Jon chuckled. “Very inventive of you, I must say.” He wrapped his arms around him. “I’m a little jealous.”

Martin tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling to avoid those eyes. “Jealous of me having a mind-reading boyfriend?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” He laughed, kissing Martin’s jaw and earning a twitch. “My, you are eager.”

“Don’t.”

Jon’s smirk widened and he drew back. “Don’t? Of course.”

“Jon you asshole, don’t you dare!”

“Don’t I dare what? Honestly Martin, you said don’t, so I stopped, I hope there isn’t a problem here.”

Martin whined, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please?”

Jon let the mischief and evil fade, smiling warmly. This was as good an opportunity as any to help Martin practice. “Please what?”

Oh god, he sounded so sincere. Martin sucked in a breath. “P-please… tickle me?” He whispered, blushing deeply, a little stunned that he managed to get the words out.

Smiling lips closed over his, easing his nerves somewhat. He opened his eyes to see Jon looking back at him with the most lovestruck look in his eyes Martin had ever seen. “Of course, love.” He said, then paused. “Would you, ah, like to show me specifically what you want?”

Martin groaned, bowing his head and closing his eyes, a million fantasies flying across his mind and he knew, he knew that Jon could see every single one of them.

“I’m not looking.” Jon promised quietly, kissing his forehead. “I won’t look unless you ask me to.”

His flush intensified, something Martin didn’t think was possible. “You- you do realise that’s the worst, right?”

Jon squeezed him tighter, resting his head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to see anything you don’t want me to.”

“Asking is hard.”

“I know love, you’re doing wonderfully.” Jon pressed a kiss to his jaw again. “I don’t have to look if you don’t want. I’m sure my instincts will be just fine.” He was grinning now. How couldn’t he be?

“You’re the worst.”

“Me?” Jon asked incredulously. “You’ve been tormenting me with this ever since you found out you could.”

“You loved it.”

“So did you.”

Martin wasn’t sure why, but that was enough to break through the tension he’d been holding onto. He grinned, matching Jon’s own smile, and pulled him close enough to bury his face in his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jon murmured.

Martin squeezed his eyes shut. “You can look.” Not that he had anything specific in mind. He wanted…

Jon kissed him surprisingly, making Martin’s eyes open. There was knowing in his eyes. “You’re really very sweet.” Jon murmured.

An indistinct noise tore from Martin’s throat. “I don’t even know what I was thinking about.”

His eyes were so fixed on Jon that he didn’t notice the flickering fingers until they danced across his neck. Martin squeaked, twitching against the urge to crush the sensation into his shoulder.

Jon was grinning at him. “I can tell you the impression I got.”

Oh god. The fingers didn’t stop their fluttering, and Martin squirmed bodily if only to keep himself from reacting in a way that would stop Jon. He squeezed his eyes shut again to avoid that knowing, loving smile.

Jon brought his other hand up to trace and tease Martin’s ear with his fingertips, warmth spreading throughout his body when Martin started giggling, making no effort to hold the laughter back. He kissed the tip of his nose. “I think you were needing a reminder of just how lovely you are.”

Martin flushed, sinking into the sofa, still giggling away at the teasing tickles around his neck and ear.

Jon kissed a line across his cheek until he was at his other ear. “Because you are.” He whispered. “You have the most wonderful smile, frankly it’s a crime that I don’t get to see it every second of the day.” The hand that had been dancing around his neck migrated to his stomach, scratching against the fabric of his shirt. “Not to mention your remarkable sense in clothing, do you know how difficult it is not to curl up against you sometimes?”

Martin jolted at the change, bursts of laughter breaking through his giddy giggles, his arms twitching from the impulse to push Jon away or pull him closer or something. He didn’t know how to deal with all this affection directed squarely at him, especially when he was far too ticklish to try to respond.

No, all he could do was sit there and take it and wow did it feel nice.

Jon pressed a long kiss to Martin’s neck, loving that he got to be the one to do this. Martin’s teasing of him so far had been focused, he’d gotten a clear view of exactly what he meant and that had been… very flustering. This was different; his thoughts had been a lot more muddled, nothing specific beyond the haze of emotion and want. The want itself was clear though. To feel warm and fuzzy and loved, to be so lost to giggly laughter that all he could feel was happy.

And who was Jon to say no to that?

His fingers continued to spider over Martin’s stomach and trace his ear, wiggling over the spot just behind that always got a squeal. Jon kissed his way back to his cheek. “I could spend all day counting your freckles.” He said fondly.

“Jon!” Martin squealed, bucking when blunt nails scratched at the spot behind his ear. One of his arms twitched as if to stop him.

With a smile, Jon caught the hand in his other, weaving their fingers together. “Oh of course, your hands.” He said, kissing Martin’s knuckles while continuing to torment his ear. “Honestly just perfect to hold, I wish I could sprout another arm exclusively to hold your hand.”

Martin snorted at the odd compliment, flushing all the way down to his toes. Yeah, he could admit it to himself, this was what he’d wanted. He couldn’t even word it properly in his mind, but Jon had known. He wanted to feel like this.

Jon laughed under his breath. He could see that Martin was loving this, but he could also see that he was getting short of breath. Ah well. They could do this any time. They could do this every day as far as he was concerned.

“And your ears, naturally.” He whispered directly into Martin’s other ear, while his fingers continued to scratch and tease the other. “Adorable. Especially with just how ticklish they are.” He illustrated his words by pressing his lips to his earlobe, making Martin’s giggles give way to laughter as he kissed up and down, the conflicting sensations making him twist from side to side.

Then Jon caught the shell of his ear gently in his teeth and Martin shrieked, immediately falling over sideways on the sofa in an attempt to escape and dragging Jon down with him.

Jon grinned, ceasing his assault and burying his face in Martin’s neck. “Okay?”

Martin still shook with giggles, and in place of responding, squeezed Jon in a tight embrace. Almost too tight. He wanted to hold him more tightly, wanted to hold Jon until they could never be apart again, so the giddy feeling of being together would stay forever.

Jon squeezed him back, burrowing into his arms. He could feel the happiness radiating off Martin like a furnace. Taking a deep breath, Jon murmured, “Martin. Do you know how much I love you?”

The warmth in Martin’s chest somehow grew warmer still. He pressed a kiss to Jon’s hair. “I think so.”

#tickle fic #tma #tma tickles #ticklish!Jon #ticklish!Martin #Jonmartin #jmart

[beepboop358]

Victor Creel Theories

(also includes ST movie DNA series: Star Wars)

Victor Creel is described as "a disturbed and intimidating man who is imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital for a gruesome murder in the 1950s." We know he will be institutionalized at Penthurst mental hospital, where Peter Ballard works, based on leaked on set pics.

There a few possibilities regarding his character:

He could be a former test subject with some kind of powers and a connection to the upside down (which would also follow the even/odd season pattern of a main character being directly involved with the upside down creatures) I think it's highly likely that Victor Creel will be involved with the mystery/danger in Hawkins in some way, and have a connection to the upside down. He could also be disturbed on top of this, and he could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season.

That he is not a test subject and is ONLY mentally disturbed.

He may be related to one of the already established characters. Most likely Joyce, and maybe Terry but it's a stretch.

Before I go any further into that last possibility, I just want to preface that this idea of an "evil father/grandfather with powers" could be a purposeful Star Wars parallel. The Duffer brothers have already paralleled and used Star Wars references a few times in the show:

In Star Wars, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father, and Palpatine is Rey's grandfather (aka the literal worst guy in the universe). A common theme in ST is abusive/bad fathers - that post here. Interesting...

Palpatine is also Anakin Skywalker's father, so Luke and Leia are both the grandkids of Palpatine as well as Rey is, but it's unclear if they are just force midichlorian related or actually dna related as well but I won't get into that here!

Luke and Rey are both force sensitive (have powers), so are Darth Vader and Palpatine; their descendants (kid/grandkid) have powers, and so do they (father/grandfather) The descendants use their powers for good, while the ancestors use their power for evil. Who has powers in ST? Eleven and Will - and they both already have this idea of abusive/bad/evil fathers: Will has an abusive father Lonnie, and Eleven has an abusive father figure Dr. Brenner "Papa".

So... Victor Creel being the evil/bad grandfather to either Eleven or Will and the evil/bad father to Joyce or Terry, would make a FULL Star Wars parallel to people who are morally good and have powers (Will and El - Luke and Rey), discovering they are the descendant of an evil male figure who also has powers (Victor Creel - Darth Vader and Palpatine)

If Victor Creel turns out to be the father of anyone in the show my bets are it's either Joyce Byers or maybeee Terry Ives.

If he was a test subject, its likely he went "crazy" with some of his powers and the government couldn't cover it up so they declare him mentally insane to get him committed, and he probably goes insane being locked away as well. Personally, I think he may be 001 or an early test subject, when they were still working out the kinks of the program, and I think he does have a big connection to the upside down.

The Duffer Brother's on s4: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything"....

Now let's get into the possibilities for Creel's storyline/who he could be related to (split into 3 parts).

Part 1: Creel could be Joyce's father

Based on Victor Creel's description as "disturbed" and that he is "in a psychiatric hospital", it could connect him to Joyce's bloodline.

There are several comments in the show hinting to this idea of mental instability in Joyce's family:

s1 ep.5: When Lonnie comes to visit in s1 after Will goes missing, Joyce says to Lonnie "No, don't look at me like that, like how everyone is looking at me, like I'm out of my damn mind" He responds saying "I think you need to consider the possibility that this is all in your head. Remember your Aunt Darlene?" Joyce quickly replies, "No, this is not that."

That conversation, although quick, is very telling. Lonnie is implying that Joyce had an aunt who was mentally unstable - and Joyce clearly knows about her aunt being unstable because she responds to his comment by saying what's she's experiencing is not that (the mental instability of her aunt)

s2 ep.2: Joyce says to Bob, "this is not a normal family", when he suggest moving out of Hawkins.

I used to think Joyce was always was referring to the whole 'my son got stuck in an alternate dimension with supernatural monsters and is now traumatized, and we were sworn to secrecy by the government' thing but maybe she is also referring to her biological family.

s1 ep.2: When they are searching for Will, one of the other police officers, says "Joyce is one step from the edge" and the other officer responds "She has been several steps for quite a while now".

If Joyce is related to Victor Creel biologically, and he did also happen to be a test subject, has powers, or has some other relation to the upside down, this could possibly have contributed to whatever kind of abilities Will has, because he would be a descendant of Creel. But Joyce does not seem to have any powers and neither does Jonathan. If they were related to Creel, it's odd that they both didn't get powers, but Will did. I've always thought Will was born with his powers, like El.

We know almost nothing about Joyce's past, it's never discussed in the slightest in the show, which I feel like is purposeful. We don't know Joyce's maiden name; she doesn't change it back after she and Lonnie divorce. Maybe the Duffers are saving Joyce's backstory for s4 (and possibly s5), like I think they are doing with Will and El's connection. Will, El, Hopper, and Joyce were pictured in a series of 4 tweets posted by the stranger writers, hinting to the main 4 storylines for season 4. My analyzation of this tweet here.

I think it's possible that Joyce's storyline this season could also have to do with her past- not just her searching for Hopper- but also more personal information about her. Perhaps we will see flashbacks of younger Joyce and maybe learn about her biological relatives.

Noah also said this would be the darkest season for Will, so this idea of being the grandkid of someone evil or disturbed could fit into that.

Part 2: Creel could be Terry's father/Eleven's grandfather

The only other person I could see potentially having a biological; relation to Victor Creel could be Terry Ives and Eleven, (because it would complete the Star Wars parallel mentioned earlier) but it's a stretch for several reasons, the main one being that Terry and Becky's father Bill Ives, died in a car crash (year unknown).

So for Victor Creel to be Terry's father that either has to be:

Her adoptive father OR

Her mother cheated and led Mr. Ives to believe Terry was his kid but her father is really Victor Creel, and Becky is actually Bill Ives son (which would explain why Becky has no powers)

Right of the bat it's interesting Terry's father's name is Bill. Bill is a nickname for William (Will Byers full name is William), and Billy's a nickname also for William... Hmmm....

Immediately after El is born, Terry is adamant that Brenner stole her child to use as a weapon to fight the commies BECAUSE SHE HAD SPECIAL ABILITIES - and she's completely right about everything. How does Terry know El had powers immediately after she was born? Because she knows she has developed some kind of special abilities from the experiments as well. When El goes to visit her mother in s2, THE LIGHTS FLICKER, just like they do when the upside down is near, but it's not Eleven controlling it. Her Aunt Becky says it's just the wiring, and Eleven responds: "IT'S MAMA. She wants to talk." And then we see Terry's NOSE BLEED, just like El's does when she uses her powers.

Quick side note about El's biological father is Andrew Rich: (It's revealed in the canon novel Suspicious Minds that Andrew Rich is El's father) He was a college student who got expelled from school due to protesting the Nixon address, making him eligible to be drafted in the Vietnam war, and he died in battle. Terry was involved in the Project MKUltra experiments at Hawkins National Laboratory in College, under the direction of Dr. Martin Brenner, but didn't know she was pregnant at the time. Andrew never even knew Terry was pregnant, meaning she was extremely early on in her pregancy at the time he was sent away, not even Terry was aware yet. It's also stated in this book that BRENNER HAD A HAND IN GETTING ANDREW EXPELLED SO HE COULD SEND ANDREW AWAY. The novel states that Brenner has Andrew drafted because he wants to SCARE Terry, to show her how much power he has over her life. There's definitely some history between Terry and Brenner that we don't know about yet.

If Victor Creel is in fact Joyce's father it's interesting that the powers seem to have skipped a generation with Joyce, and also one kid with the Byers, but if Victor Creel is Terry's father, no generations were skipped in passing down powers. ANYWAYS, this is all just theories and speculation since we have no actual concrete reasons to believe he will be related to Joyce or Terry.

Part 3: The possibility that Creel could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season does not rely on them being biologically related.

**One of the filming locations for this season is the Claremont House, which is RUMORED to be Creel's house and also "Vecna's lair" the new monster for s4 (unconfirmed) This is the house the Hawkins group goes into in the ST4 sneak peek, where they see the grandfather clock striking midnight. If that's true, there's a connection between Creel and the upside down and having powers, which could connect Creel to Eleven. The Duffers: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything". This thing "that connects everything", could be Creel's storyline (his possible connection to the lab/upside down/person in the show), because Creel's storyline also spans all the way back to the 1950's and before that, so there's our "long buried" part most likely.

Robert Englund recently revealed in *an interview* that his character Victor Creel gouges his eyes out, making him unable to see. Englund also mentions what it's like working with Millie Bobby Brown and talks about the first time her met her, he doesn't mention any other cast members in detail like he does Millie.

He's clearly working closely with Millie's character Eleven.

But why? I think Creel could be involved with Eleven getting her powers back, and her reliving her past. Once the government baddies realize El has no powers, they're gonna want them back. If Creel was in fact a test subject, maybe there is some kind of connection between them, Such as Eleven revisiting what happened to her in her past and how that could relate to her getting her powers back.

Another thought I had was that perhaps the gruesome murder he committed is somehow related to something that ends up impacting in Eleven's life.

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

Whatever Victor Creel's storyline is, it will be an important one, and it will carry somewhat into s5, since he will be a returning character. He is not signed as a series regular, but as a recurring character, which means we don't really know to what capacity he will be in s5. It could be flashbacks mostly, or he could have just as big or small of a role.

Source: indie wire

That detail about eyes being gouged out reminds me of fear street 1666 when the townsmen who was sacrificed to the devil becomes possessed and gouges the kids eyes out. Leigh Janick, director of fear street, is married to Ross Duffer. They both direct and make horror/sci-fi themed series about kids in a small town set in the 80's, who fight supernatural evil with a heavy undertone of queer themes, that are even filmed in a lot of the same locations (the mall, the town streets, etc.) I'm not saying it's the same thing, it definitely won't be. But there's so many similarities between ST and Fear Street, I thought I would mention this as another.

#stranger things #st movie dna series #st4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things season 4 spoilers #stranger things four #stranger things season four #victor creel #joyce byers #st4 spoilers #st4 theory #st4 speculation #Terry ives #eleven #el hopper #eleven hopper #Jane byers #Jane hopper #will byers #Will Byers has powers #stranger things theory #stranger things 4 theory #stranger things obsessed #stranger things analysis #stranger things 4 speculation #stranger things meta #stranger things season 4 theory #st meta