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7-wonders · 6 months

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It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why.

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.”

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.”

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric.

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?”

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events.

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

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wardenparker · 3 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Honestly, not many warnings here. Mostly fluff and some sexy flirting and blood drinking/talk of biting. Summary: On the night of the Samhain ball, your long-anticipated return home is marked with tears, hugs, and a very important announcement. Notes: Next week's epilogue will be the official end of this story, my darlings, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has come along for the ride!

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

"Miss Allison, I promise you that everything is under control." Mrs. Taylor has watched Allison work her very hardest to finish the plans on the Samhain ball, and she has done wonderfully. Far more wonderfully than Allison herself would ever take credit for. Now, though, it is up to Mrs. Taylor and the rest of the staff to get the buffet tables and innumerable chairs set. "Please go and get dressed. We will take care of everything from here. It is going to be a wonderful night."

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip and wracks her brain, running through the mental checklist that has been swirling through her mind and double then tripled several times.

"This is not, as you like to say, my first rodeo." The elder vampire chuckles at the expression and motions toward the stairs. "There is plenty of time. Take a shower or even a bath. Relax yourself. Get dressed. It is time to enjoy your night."

“Do you think we ordered enough blood and donors?” She asks worriedly. Vampires from all over are descending on the estate and some do not drink from blood bags, so concessions had to be made.

“Mr. Finchley counted through the bags this morning and Renee is meeting each of the donors as they arrive.” Mostly students from the neighboring college, the set of a dozen voluntary donors for the night have signed contracts for financial compensation that they are permitted to back out of at any time if they should decide — and they will also be provided with enormous care packages made by the Taylors regardless of how long they stay or how many guests partake of their blood. Mrs. Taylor has baked and cooked enough in advance for each of them to essentially have a week’s worth of free food and Mr. Taylor went through enormous trouble to find them all manner of health and self-care items as well as other goodies. “Mr. Taylor had offered to speak to everyone but Renee thought the young ladies who signed up might be less intimidated if she was the one to greet them.”

“That would be best. I can also meet with them. Explain how it is for a human.” She offers with a slight blush. Last night she and Eddie had indulged in that particular activity after the conversation they had and she loved it.

Mrs. Taylor smiles at Allison’s blush, not calling attention to it but certainly noting the happiness in the young woman. Things appear to be going quite well. “I’m sure they would be comforted to hear from you.”

“Then I will meet with them when they are ready.” Allison decides with a smile. “Please have someone inform me when that is?”

“They have been asked to arrive by nine o’clock tonight.” The mantle clock beside them reads just after seven, meaning there truly is plenty of time. “The Master is taking it upon himself to greet any trick or treaters we might have tonight, so do not feel you need to rush in readying yourself.”

“He loves children, doesn’t he?” Allison asks, tilting her head and smiling at the thought of the elder vampire greeting kids and cooing over their costumes.

“He does.” Mrs. Taylor nods. The same expression of soft admiration paints both their features and the housekeeper clasps her hands a moment later. “Would you like a tea tray for your room? Or any help getting ready?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” She admits before she thinks about something else. “Is— has Dolly’s room been prepared for her return?” She asks softly, as if asking about it might jinx things.

An enigmatic smile from Mrs. Taylor is not the reassurance she is looking for, but the vampiric housekeeper has plenty of her own secrets as well. “All is prepared for. Truly, there is nothing for you to worry about. You should try to enjoy yourself tonight, miss.”

“Were you nervous when you were human?” Allison asks in wonder. “Or have you always been so self-assured?”

“Oh goodness no.” That actually illicits a small laugh from her and Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “It took a good century or so to find my calm, dear girl. Before that I was as nervous as a spring bride in the morning. I simply learned to…what is your phrase? Fake it ‘til I make it. Eventually it just sank in.”

“Good to know.” She’s more assured than some, but this is her first big event and she feels like she needs to prove herself worthy to Eddie’s sire.

“Everything will be just as you wished it to be.” Mrs. Taylor promises. “Now go on. I will bring your tea up myself.”

“Thank you.” Allison flashes her a grateful smile before turning around and doing as she says.

The artfully made Alice in Wonderland and Mad Hatter costumes that Eddie found for them are hanging in his closet and Eddie himself is sitting on the bed with a copy of the party itinerary in his lap when she walks in. "Hey baby." Almost instantly, he's at her side with his arms around her. "Did Mrs. Taylor banish you from the ballroom to get ready?"

“She did.” Allison huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “I was told that she has it completely under control. But I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be.” He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If I suggest we take a shower will that actually relax you a little? Everything is going to be great, baby.”

“It depends.” Allison admits with a grin. “Will you…feed off me again?” She asks quietly, amazed at how much of a rush of endorphins it can be.

Eddie’s chuckle is deep, tinged with equal parts amusement and desire. “I will. Because I can smell how badly you want me to.”

Biting her lip, she grins and bats her eyelashes at him. “You don’t seem to mind it.” She reminds him, finding it intoxicating when it fires him up. He loses control for a split second when he starts to drink.

With his hands on her hips, Eddie whirls Allison around and starts walking her toward the shower with urgency. “Alright. Let’s go. Very important shower to take.”

Her laugh is one of delight and she’s ecstatic that one day, she won’t have to secretly worry about growing old and leaving Eddie. She’ll be right there with him. “Baby?” He hums and she giggles. “Can we still do this once I’m changed?”

“Shower together?” He huffs at her playfully because he knows that isn’t what she meant. “I mean we can, but vampires don’t sweat so we don’t need to wash as much.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes before she turns around to start undressing. “You know what I meant.”

“We can,” he stresses the second word and tugs off his t-shirt. “But the thing that’s weird about it is that if you drink my blood and I’m the one who turned you…it doesn’t quite taste right. It’s like an evolutionary red flag, or something like that. To prevent vampires from consuming their kin. So if you want to keep doing this, and you want it to taste good and give adrenaline and all that? I would recommend that we ask someone else to change you.”

“Would you mind?” She asks quietly. Changing a person into a vampire is also quite intimate and she doesn’t want to upset him.

“I would prefer you chose someone you know well, if it isn’t going to be me.” He can understand her choice is entirely her own, but to make another vampire is a deeply intimate and meaningful relationship. It’s why so many refer to those they have sired as their children.

“I was thinking about asking your sire.” Allison admits. “Since he approves of me.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie kisses her cheek this time, pretending to consider something he already knows is a good idea. “Are you sure you want Max for a big brother?” He teases.

She snorts and shrugs. “He will be either way.” She admits, knowing that Eddie will always be around Max. Plus she kind of likes the other vampire for his treatment of you.

“I guess that’s true.” Eddie grins, though, and helps Allison out of her last few items of clothes after turning on the hot water for them. “To be honest, I thought you might pick Mrs. Taylor, but I have no doubt if we ask him about it later, he will say yes.”

“I hope to have more of a sisterly relationship with Mrs. Taylor.” Allison admits. “Although if your sire thinks it’s a good idea, I would be fine with that.”

“I doubt dear old dad will object to siring you. But be prepared for him to make a very big deal about it.” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. “Dramatic son of a bitch.”

“You’re dramatic in your own way.” She teases, sliding her hands up his cool chest and grinning at him.

“I’ve been well trained, I guess.” He huffs, but pulls her into the shower with him. “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

“Oh I do.” She promises, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “I absolutely do.”

******

"This place looks incredible!" Tracy squeals, throwing her arms around Allison almost the second she's inside the house. "Holy shit, holy shit everything is amazing. And what is that smell? Are you burning incense in the house or something?"

“The food.” There’s probably some incense burning as well, but all the human food is fragrant. “You look incredible!”

"Oh, this old thing?" Tracy giggles as she twirls around in her Clueless costume and poses like a model. She and Candance and one of the other women from the coven decided to come as Cher, Tai, and Dionne tonight. "As if, right?"

“No, you look amazing, I don’t think there will be a pair of eyes that don’t stop on you and admire.” Allison gushes, grinning at the other woman. “And you’ll be dancing all night.”

"I can't believe how good the house looks and how good you look!" She jumps forward to squeeze Allison tightly again. "Everything is perfect."

“Yes it is.” Since the shower and getting dressed, she’s calmed down. It’s too late to change anything and what will be, will be. She’s left it in Mrs. Taylor’s capable hands.

Tracy bites her lip as Candace comes up beside her. “Any sign of…?”

Allison sighs, chewing on her lip worriedly and glancing around. “Not yet. But knowing Max, he will make it as dramatic as possible and arrive at midnight like some reverse pumpkin fable.” She snorts, hiding her own nerves behind the facade of humor.

“Oh god, you’re right,” Candace snorts. She reaches to hug Allison tightly and shakes her head in some sort of fond exasperation. “And he’ll have figured out how to cue Phantom of the Opera entrance music or something.”

“That would actually have been a wonderful idea!” Allison gasps. “Next year. Next year’s theme is decided.”

“All of Broadway, or specifically Phantom?” Tracy giggles at the idea, already on board.

“Phantom.” Allison knows you would love the idea. “We could honestly have a Broadway themed ball every year.”

“Different time periods, different Broadway shows, different literary influences…” Candace sighs dreamily. “My vote is for a Jane Austen ball.”

“Ohhhh that would be wonderful.” Allison sighs as well, enchanted by the idea. “It would be a very proper ball.”

“What would be?” Eddie, who had been at the front door making sure the signs for parking and entry were clear enough and in the right places, now comes up behind his girlfriend and slips one arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She beams at Eddie and sighs at the idea of him in a Regency era suit. “A Jane Austen ball.”

“Ooo, you would love that.” He coos softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Mr. Finchley is out front to help with parking and direct people who haven’t been here before. The first cars were pulling in when I came inside. I thought you ladies would like to know.”

“Oh, it’s time.” Allison panics for a split second but Eddie’s hand on her waist steadies her. “Then I guess you and I should stand in and greet the guests.”

“And we will man the donation table.” Tracy grabs Candace’s hand. One of the main points of the night is still to collect for charity, and every party goer is supposed to be bringing in a canned or boxed food item for the local food bank. Between the food drive and proceeds from ticket sales going to nearest women’s shelter, the night should end up being a rousing success on all fronts as long as everyone has a good time.

“Thank you.” Allison throws them grateful smiles, happy that she has such a good coven to help her.

“Come on, love,” Eddie encourages her. There is a broad, proud smile on his face and he kisses her other cheek this time. “We have guests to greet.”

“Yes we do.” In your absence, Allison wants to be the best hostess so the reputation of the party grows. This could be a success for years to come.

The first half hour or so of arrivals is a trickle. Coven members, the teachers and students from the dance studio that you and Max had gone to. Some of the museum docents from the local preservation society have arrived as a group in full costume. A few folks from the charities benefiting from tonight’s collections also arrive in their festive Halloween costumes, and a smattering of students from the nearby college as well. It’s over an hour into the night when a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that Allison doesn’t recognize, pulls up under the porte-cochere and Mr. Taylor looks particularly amused — or even smug? — when he opens the door.

“Allison!” Though you haven’t aged a day to the naked eye, the way you hold yourself is different now. Over a hundred years changes a person, and the trauma that had once governed all of your actions has melted away to be left far in the past. But a straighter spine and surer shoulders are not what matters now. Not as you haul yourself out of the car in the beautifully elaborate gown that you wore to the first Samhain ball you ever attended — the one thrown by your abuela in 1885 when you decided to stay in the past. You and Max had thought it was a symbolic choice to wear the same clothes tonight.

Eddie’s eyes widen when Max pops out of the driver’s side and zips around to immediately take your hand, smirking slightly at the surprise and delight of the people gathered who recognize them. “I told you we haven’t missed the dancing.” He muses to you as he guides you towards the receiving party. “Edward, you look magnificent and that is saying something considering the gorgeous creature next to you.”

“What in the hell?” Eddie’s eyes widen at the deeply obvious change in Max’s demeanor and he can’t help a deep, amused laugh at how giddily you and Allison are greeting each other as he steps forward to either shake Max’s hand or give the bastard a hug. He can’t really figure out which. “Well, goddamn. You—you really did stay, didn’t you?”

Max takes the other vampire’s hand in a firm shake and drags him forward for a hug. “We couldn’t leave.” He admits shamelessly. “That time, the people, it was exactly what we both needed.” He pulls back and grins at Eddie. “But it’s damn good to see you. We missed you both.”

“We missed you, too.” As nervous as they were, and as worried as they were, it’s extremely obvious that whatever had happened, it was a positive decision. “But where the hell did you come from? And how did you leave in the first place? And when were you? We have so many questions.”

“We’ll explain it all.” Max promises. “Dolly has a lot of information to share with the coven. Including Mrs. Astor’s grimoire.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” You cling to Allison happily, drowning in your long-missed friend’s affection, before pulling back to look at her. “You look so happy, honey. That’s so good, and I’m so, so glad to see it.”

Max smirks slightly, sending Eddie a knowing look. “Eddie, you finally made your move.” He hums in approval. “Good, relationship bliss looks good on you both.”

“Come inside,” Eddie insists, practically dragging Max with him and Allison wraps her arm around yours to do the same. “We want to hear everything.”

“Of course you do.” Max is teasing, but if the situations were reversed, he would be hounding Eddie for the details. “First, how long have we been gone? Dates have kind of blurred.”

“About three weeks.” Allison tells him, still clinging to your hand. She’s still reassuring herself that you’re both real. “How long has it been for you guys, though?”

He glances at you and grins before he looks back at Allison and Eddie. “You tell them.” You urge with an indulgent smile since Max has been so excited about this.

“Only a few years.” Max insists. “One hundred and one.”

“So…you went to 1922?” Allison asks, confused because that doesn’t seem to track with what they found in their research.

“Not quite,” you admit, knowing the whole situation probably seems very complicated. “We went to 1885, and came back from 1986. A few weeks before Max was set to be born. You really don’t want to hop around in your own lifetime if you can manage it.”

“So you can move around through time?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open as every one of his theories is being explained.

“It was by accident the first time.” The admission is a little sheepish, but you look very proud just a second later. “I’m actually quite good at it now.”

“What happened?” Allison demands. “We were thinking something happened to you when your grandfather told us.”

“Unfortunately for him, my ex decided to surprise us on our date.” It’s been a century and the hurt is gone. Not even a sting remains. Derek is no more than a blip in your past and there are now very long stretches of entire decades where you even forget he ever existed. “I tried to keep him away from us with a protection spell but my spellbinding made it go haywire, and instead of protecting Max and myself from Derek, I protected all three of us from that moment in time. It sent us back to the exact same moment, but in 1885.”

“I knew you had to be spellbound!” Allison gasps. “How did you— did you see your mother?” She asks.

"My mother has been my closest friend for a hundred years." It was difficult, moving in and out of each other's lives at times, but with both of you being functionally immortal for that time you both understood that sometimes there was no choice but to be apart. "She even called me the day she met my dad." It was a phone call you had been waiting for, unfortunately. Knowing what would ensue in the coming years, you and Max had taken it as a cue to get out of the country for the remainder of your time in your own past.

“I’m so glad you got more time with her.” Allison glances at Eddie nervously, aware that your grandfather’s announcement tonight might devastate you.

"Then why do you look as though you had lost my favourite sweater?" You reach for her with both hands and squeeze her shoulders gently. "What's wrong, Ali? The place looks amazing, you look happy, and we're finally home again. It should be a night to celebrate."

“It is.” She promises, shaking off the feeling and sending you a smile. “Your grandfather will be happy to see you.” She promises.

"He should be expecting us." Out of anyone in literally all of time, your grandfather has always been the one person most informed about when and where you will be, your plans, and anything else you could conceivably need. He's been a wonderful father figure to Max and a doting grandfather to you, as well as an invaluable resource.

“He is.” Allison assures you. “In fact, he was the one to tell us you would be back tonight.” She admits with a rueful grin. “Guess we shouldn’t have doubted him.”

"He's the last person we spoke to before we left 1986," you admit, but you also shrug. After hanging up with your grandfather, you'd definitely spent the next few hours enjoying a nice dinner and fucking all over your empty house. Max's absurd '80s power suits had ended up to be just a little bit of a turn on for you. You're just not quite sure how that happened.

Max smirks, reaching up and caressing the back of your neck as you are obviously thinking about the same thing he is. “That was a lucky year.” He teases softly.

"Very lucky." Your own smirk meets his and for one happy moment you forget anyone else exists, just sharing an amused glance with your soulmate. It may be more than a hundred years later, but you still fall a little more in love with him every day.

He arches a brow and licks his lips. “No one would miss us for a few minutes, would they?” He asks, even though he knows he can’t sneak you away for a quickie.

Allison snorts in amusement, shaking her head at Max seemingly not changing at all in his core, despite the changes in his manners on the surface. "It's your house, guys," she reminds you both.

“No.” Max shakes his head and smiles at your friend. “My wife has waited way too long to see you again to sneak her off.” He admits with a chuckle. “And I’ve been told if I mess up her hair before our first dance, there’s hell to pay.”

"It'll be Gladys Vanderbilt's debutante ball all over again," you tease. The fond roll of your eyes is nothing but love after so many years together. "Although..." Looking up at him, you flash him a sly smile. Hearing him call you his wife still hasn't gotten old. "It's been what...fifty years now, since the last time we had a wedding? We might be due for another one."

“You’re married.” Eddie is the one who practically squeals it. He has known Max to be staunchly against being tied down, but that was before you. “How many times have you gotten married?”

"Um..." The look you and Max share is vague confusion, as between the two of you, you try to count out the different weddings you have celebrated over the decades. "1885...1923...1946...1967...and the last one was 1980. So five times. And I guess that's not quite fifty years ago. More than forty, though."

“Oh my god.” Allison whispers, glancing between you and Max in amazement. “Five weddings? Max you are just….” She shakes her head and throws her arms around him while looking over her shoulder at Eddie. “You have a standard now.”

“Sorry Eddie,” you tease, enjoying the easy lightness of being with your friends again. The urge to just continuously hug them and not let go is very real. “Although it is fun. And parties these days are so much more casual than they once were. That makes it a bit easier. Or at least less forbidding to plan.”

“I want to experience that.” Eddie admits, reaching out taking Allison’s hand. “We have decided that Allison will become immortal soon.” He announces after she gives him a soft smile of encouragement.

“Oh, honey!” Your eyes flit between both of them before you bundle them both up in a hug with a beaming smile. “There is so much life to live. You’re going to love it.”

“I can’t take Eddie’s blood like you can with Max.” Allison doesn’t mind that, not really. All that matters is that Eddie wants her. “And Eddie doesn’t want to…outlive me.”

“I think it’s an oversight on the universe’s part that you aren’t soulmates.” The connection they have is so strong and their love so sure, you would have just assumed it if you hadn’t been around when they started dating. “It’s wonderful to hear that you’ll be able to be together.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile at your own partner. Your other half throughout all of history. “Forever is quite fun, I have to admit.”

“You don’t look a day older.” Allison smirks as she takes in the changes you have brought back from the past. Self-assurance looks amazing and you seemingly glow. No longer the scared woman she had met in a farmer’s market, you are almost intimidating, and your entire aura radiates powerful magic.

“That’s a combination of Max’s blood and Audrey Hepburn’s face cream.” You smirk conspiratorially. “I’ll guard that potion with my life, since you won’t be needing it once you’ve been changed.”

“Interesting.” Her brow wings up at the mention of the famous actress, realizing you must have met her at some point. “Hepburn was a witch?”

“Particularly good with charms and potions. And she was fun. You never hear about her being fun, but she was great.” Beside you, Max has one arm around your waist and he hums proudly. “Max was a movie producer after the Second World War.”

“Really?!” The squeal is loud and enthusiastic and all heads snap towards the group. “Oh— that’s— I can’t believe we didn’t find you.”

“We were using different names at that point.” It had been essential to learn how to craft and re-craft new identities. Luckily, your grandparents had been fountains of information. “And Max only produced, so it’s not as though we were in anything.”

“Still.” She shakes her head and giggles. “The stories you can tell. What else have you two done?”

"I'll tell you everything starting tonight," you promise her, as the four of you step deeper into the house. It's good to be back at Chateau-sur-Mer again. To you and Max it has been just a few years since the last time you were here, but that's long enough to miss it. "But tomorrow you should come over to our house for dinner."

“Your house?” Her eyes widen and Allison frowns in confusion. “Dolly— th-this is your home. Cookie willed it to you, remember?”

"I know." And it is good to be back, but you rub Allison's arm affectionately. "But to avoid complications with my family through history...Max and I built another house here in Newport."

“When?” “Where?” Allison and Eddie ask at the same time with identical sounds of bewilderment.

They've reached a place where they have the same voice sometimes and it makes you smile softly. "You know that little gothic house on the beach that has basically been abandoned for the last couple of decades but somehow never decays? Seacliff Castle?" Beside you, Max smiles proudly. "It was finished in 1888. Max and Yayo designed it with the architect who built this place."

“You are kidding me!” Allison’s screech can raise the dead and she looks like a kid who was just told she was going to Disney and getting a puppy. “I have always wanted to tour that house, but no one knows who owns it. But it was you all along?”

"Come over tomorrow and we'll show you the whole place," you promise her, giggling happily at the absolute glee in her reaction. "But tonight? I want to see what you've done with the ball. I know it's going to be amazing."

“I have been so nervous.” She admits quietly. “But I think we have everything. Including donors for those who don’t eat bagged blood.”

“Mrs. Taylor and Yayo would never let you have anything less than a perfect night.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” From a nearby dark corner, your grandfather emerges into the low, atmospheric lighting of the great hall.

Max chuckles as he hears his sire’s voice. “Always.” He shakes his head. “Dramatic like always,” he jokes, having told you that your grandfather would make a dramatic entrance.

“I have learned that there are some things which are expected of me,” he jokes pleasantly. “Your journey was not difficult, then?”

“No.” Max reaches out and shakes his sire’s hand warmly and pulls the elder vampire in for a hug. “Cookie did not stake you for keeping our true relationship a secret, I see.” He jokes, even though everyone already knew that.

“She was…not happy.” He clears his throat distinctly remembering that particular fight with his soulmate. Cookie had been furious to find out that her beloved granddaughter and the witch she had been so fond of for a hundred years were one and the same.

“Hopefully she understood eventually why we had to keep it from her, and from Annie.” The contact with your mother had lessened over the years but she had never demanded that they choose sides, something Max had been grateful for – for your sake.

“She did understand.” He is sure of that, considering how very much it had been discussed. “But she regretted not being able to dote on you both as her grandchildren.”

“She did dote on us though.” Max protests and shakes his head. “She treated us like we were family and she loved Dolly like another daughter.”

“She did.” His sire nods, knowing it is the absolute truth. He sighs though, with a theatrical shrug of his shoulders. “But you know Cookie. My darling girl loved titles.”

“She was a special lady.” Max has a fonder appreciation for the older woman, even more so with the knowledge she had known who he was when he first arrived and still had kept her word to her husband to not say anything.

“She was remarkable.” Your grandmother may not have been perfect — in fact she was decidedly less than sometimes — but that was what made her so incredibly special to you. She had never demanded that perfection from you or Max that she tended to expect from Annie. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know how you were at the time? You’ll never quite know.

“Yes, she was.” For a brief second, amongst those he is closest to, your grandfather’s grief shines on his face. Missing the other half of his soul as vividly as the day she had passed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Yayo.” The only one of the four younger beings whose instinct is to reach out, you bundle your grandfather up in a hug. “I miss her, too. Her and Mom.”

He accepts the hug, squeezing you harder than he would have before you started taking Max’s blood. “Thank you, muñeca.” He hums softly, not missing the way that Eddie and Allison shift slightly. “I will be reunited with them soon.”

“You never know when the people we love can come back to us,” you hum, but the look on your grandfather’s face makes you hesitate. “But…somehow I don’t think you’re talking about that…?”

“Because you are bright.” Yayo praises softly, cupping your cheek and smiling at you mysteriously. “It has always been my plan to join my soulmate in her afterlife.” He admits. “Since she decided to end her mortality. I have only extended my time in this existence to make sure you were well settled, my darling muñeca.”

“Oh…” You don’t cry much anymore, but tears well up behind your eyes instantly. Saying goodbye to the last of your family is not something you had prepared for tonight. “I—but—the family?” He has so many more responsibilities than just your immediate family, you can only imagine that he was preparing for this for a very long time. Or else made a lot of decisions very quickly.

“Is your family now.” He reminds you softly. “Although I have decided to name my successor tonight.” He smiles proudly and hopes that you will not be too upset at him.

“This night is much more important than I thought, then.” Stepping back from him, you settle against Max’s side and try for a smile. Your grandfather is doing what will make him happiest and you have to respect that, even if it is rather a big shock.

“You will understand.” He promises, smiling at the group and then motioning towards the ballroom. “Let the evening begin.”

******

The evening, as Yayo so elegantly termed in, is incredible. With the party starting so late and the buffet being available to guests all night long, it seems that the ebb and flow of partygoers is constant. Music plays, people dance, and the lingering masses of vampires throughout the house are generally met with curiosity from the humans who find them fascinating — though they don’t quite know why. Those who are attending as donors are spoiled immensely and some have been given guest rooms for the night, but for the most part they seem to be an altogether dreamy sort of drunk to the unaware humans present. It is not until Yayo disseminates word to his extended family of brooding immortals to meet in the morning room that any sort of tension cracks the enjoyment of the night.

Max holds your hand, aware that you are upset, and he wishes he had some insight into this talk. As close as he had become to the older vampire, he hadn’t had a clue he was planning on giving up his immortality. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, squeezing your hand.

“I know.” You squeeze his hand tenderly and lean into his side, long ago having learned how to be close even while wearing large gowns. You just wish you had had more notice. Time to prepare. “He just has to be dramatic as hell about all of this. Calling a family meeting in the middle of a ball? Very Yayo.”

“He likes to make a scene.” Max snorts, lifting a brow when the servers bring around glasses of blood and champagne for the guests. The one who stops in front of you, hands you a specific glass. “It’s white grape juice, madam.”

The barest sniff of sweet juice proves she is telling the truth, and you smile gratefully. Even after a hundred years? Alcohol holds no appeal for you whatsoever. “Thank you,” you acknowledge with a smile. “My husband prefers something a little richer, if you don’t mind.”

“Mr. Phillips.” Another glass is handed to him and he sniffs it politely.

“Hmmmm AB negative.” He smirks. “Someone put some thought into planning this.”

"Allison said she left blood menus to Mrs. Taylor." There is no mistaking that your friend took the responsibility of planning tonight seriously, and divvying tasks out to the appropriate people when delegation benefited the situation.

“Then I will have to thank her.” Max takes and sip and hums in approval. “But later.”

"Has he started yet?" Eddie and Allison slip into the room beside the two of you, already having said hello to the extended vampiric family earlier in the night.

“Not yet.” Max eyes the elder vampire. “I think he was waiting for something.”

"It's always something," you hum, sharing a grin with Allison as the same passing waitress who served you and Max returns to offer Eddie and Allison drinks before exiting the room. When she goes, she shuts the morning room door behind her.

“I would like to thank everyone for traveling to attend tonight.” Yayo’s voice never seems to raise in volume but it booms around all of you clearly. “Not only is this a worthy cause to humans dear to my heart, but it is also a special night for our future.” There is a smattering of polite applause and you lean into Max's side even while Allison does the same with Eddie beside you.

“All the vampires here, I have personally sired.” He reveals with a pleased smirk on his face. Considering there are no fewer than two dozen vampires in the room, a small murmur ripples through the younger of that number. The elder vampires chuckle with the knowledge. “And tonight…” He holds up his own glass of blood. “One of you will replace me as the elder vampire. Leader and mentor to the future.” He announces. “I have decided to join my soulmate in the afterlife.”

The limited, mannered responses are gone in an instant, replaced by an audible gasp and murmured exclamation as the members of your extended — very extended — family all look around the room to see if anyone knew this announcement was coming. Eyes fall on you more than anyone else, wondering if your grandfather will take his biological family into account in this decision.

“I know that a lot of people have wondered who would take my place. And at one point in time, I had imagined my grandson-in-law, Max Phillips, to lead our pack.” He turns his head and acknowledges him with a smile. “However, there is another that I have in mind, since Max will be busy with juggling a new role.”

New role? You look to Max with confusion, but it's clear from the furrow in his brow that he has no idea what your grandfather is talking about either. If anything, his expression is more akin to crestfallen than anything else. He's fallen short of whatever expectation his sire had of him...

“Years ago, I made a mistake.” Yayo admits to the men and women he considers his children. “My Annie, my daughter with my soulmate; I felt she was destined to leave the coven of witches and her soulmate Emmanuel would be the perfect vampire mate. I ended up losing my daughter and never got to properly apologize for placing so much emphasis on the wrong things.” He pauses for a second. “I want my granddaughter and her husband to focus on the most important role of all. They will be becoming parents.”

Enthusiastic is the word for the applause this time, though the reaction from you and Max — the people being announced — is pure shock. "H—how?" How could he possibly know that? Especially before you do?

Your grandfather chuckles, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on your face. “Your smell, my dear muñeca.” He explains with an enigmatic smile. “I have had the pleasure of smelling a vampiric pregnancy before. That is why your soulmate had not been aware either. There is a sweeter note to your blood.”

Honestly, you might be more embarrassed about having it announced in front of so many people if you weren't so flabbergasted by the news. With your jaw practically on the ground and your eyes watering, your free hand goes to your stomach while your other squeezes Max's so tightly you would be afraid of hurting him if he weren't a vampire. You're so shocked that you didn't even notice Allison take the glass from your hand or the proud uncle expression on Eddie's face.

“I want my family to focus on being there, being the best parents they can be.” He admits selfishly with a small shrug. “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He jokes. “Max however, will be vital to the next leader. His own wisdom far greater than my own, and I feel that he will make Edward Perez the best leader vampires have ever had.”

Eddie's gasp is even more audible than your own when he hears his sire say his name. For that matter, it's been almost ten years since he used his mortal surname, and hearing it spoken so proudly is a kind of gratification that he can't quite express. While it's true that his sire — the entire room's sire — had given him more than ample guidance over the decades, Eddie hadn't ever considered himself anything too special. Not until he had started giving him more responsibilities in the last few years. Not until Allison had come along with her staunch and unyielding belief in him. Now it seems like all of that is coming to a head, and he steps forward hesitantly to stand up beside his sire.

“Eddie has been the best vampire that I could have imagined.” Yayo admits. “And Max— he has held a special place in my heart from the very beginning. I know that with Eddie in charge and Max advising him, our numbers will grow and your bonds strengthen.”

If there is any doubt or dissention from the other vampires of the clan, not a word of it is spoken in their sire's presence. Instead Eddie accepts a few nods and a whistle or two from his extended family and looks back at Allison to flash her a smile before putting his hand out to his sire. "I will do everything I possibly can to live up to this responsibility, and the faith that you've placed in me."

Max smiles, still a little shocked that he had not known you were pregnant. Leaning close and inhaling your scent to recognize the sweet, floral undertones to your blood for what it is. He had just imagined it was because modern food was processed with more sugar than in the past.

“I can’t be that far along, can I?” You whisper to him under the commotion of vampires now moving forward to shake Eddie’s hand or meet Allison for the first time. Many of them had not bothered to meet the younger vampire’s partner earlier in the night but they are making the effort now. “I mean…” you look up at your soulmate with disbelieving tears in your eyes, beaming an enormous smile at him. “I haven’t even missed my period yet.”

“No.” Max can’t help but lean closer to smell you again, addicted to the idea that you are carrying his child. If his own tears are concealed by your neck, that’s just a coincidence. “Your smell hasn’t been sweeter for long. Only a few days.”

“It’s sweeter?” Somehow that is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever heard — that pregnancy can and does make your scent sweeter instead of anything else — and the water behind your eyes presses at them again.

“It is.” Max hums softly, smiling at the newfound knowledge. Committing this smell to memory. “We will have to make sure you stay healthy, my love.”

"It's a damn good thing that I mined abuela for information about carrying a half-vampire baby while I still had the chance." The hand you have on your stomach curls in, conscious of the corset under your dress but knowing that there isn't anything but a tiny little bundle of cells in there right now. "Holy shit...pregnant..."

“I can’t believe it.” It’s not like you’ve been trying but you also have gone over one hundred years without protection. Max had quietly assumed children weren’t to be and had never mentioned it so he wouldn’t worry you. The relief that he can give you a child is one that would make him cry, and he will later on when it’s sunk in.

"I just sort of assumed..." you murmur, leaning into his side and burying your face at his shoulder. In this room you can be quiet as a whisper and everyone will still hear you, but they have enough respect to pretend otherwise. "After so long...I figured it was just...not in the cards."

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” He murmurs softly, smiling at the thought that you are carrying his little baby biter. “Do you want some of my blood or should we find a vintage you like for when the baby demands more than you normally take?”

"Abuela said she ended up drinking a glass of blood at almost every meal in her second trimester." Of course the word trimester hadn't been used in that conversation, but you had made copious detailed notes for yourself after any conversation in which vampire pregnancy or children rearing was mentioned. "I guess I'm going to have to figure out how to drink it when it isn't from you. Maybe mixed with hot cocoa? Or even decaf coffee."

He chuckles. “Actually, you might like it in tomato juice.” He suggests. “Keep you from thinking about it too much.”

"That's not a bad idea." The hand you have in his tightens reflexively, keeping him close and savoring these first few moments of realization. "We'll try a little bit of everything. It's going to be a very interesting nine months, considering I'm only the second woman in the world to carry a vampire's baby."

“I mean technically….” Max grins. “You’re a quarter vampire yourself. A little more than that every night.” He winks at you salaciously.

A momentary snort of amusement breaks a little bit of the bubble of worry that was starting to form in your mind, and you nudge him with your shoulder. "A hundred years later and you can still never resist joking about that."

“Babe, if I ever stop joking about that, you just go ahead to push that stake through my heart.” He jokes, knowing that you would never think about something like that.

"It'll never happen," you laugh, knowing as well as he does that some things will just never change.

“I know.” He bites his lip and grins at you. “So we haven’t had a wedding in this time.” He ventures. “What do you think about a shotgun wedding?”

"Oo, we've never had one of those before." An elopement, a grand party, a trip to City Hall, a backyard barbecue, and a small town bash — all of those you've done. But a shotgun wedding would be a new one for the two of you. "I think it's perfect."

“Now…we have to find out who’s holding the shotguns.” He jokes, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. “Do you want to wait until the belly is huge or before?”

"We may not get a chance to have me showing off a baby bump in a wedding dress ever again. I think we have to take advantage of it." He can obviously feel the way your heartbeat has risen, smell the way your adrenaline is singing, but that tender bump of his heart when he kisses you makes it all a perfect symphony.

“Completely agree.” Max nods seriously. “The wedding should be themed. Obviously.”

"Baby themed or cowboy themed?" You ask, laughing but slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“Oh no.” He snorts and sends you a grin. “Hillbilly, shot gun wedding.” He tells you, enjoying the idea immensely even if you would never agree.

Both of you snort, knowing it isn't the kind of thing that you'll ever do, but that joking about it is it's own kind of fun. "Water guns as favours for every guest and a Beverly Hillbillies impersonator to marry us?"

He chuckles and nods. “Something like that.” He jokes before he looks at you seriously. “I do want us to be married officially before the baby is born. In our true timeline.”

"I have no problem with that." Somehow you have a feeling this will be the wedding that matters most to him, whereas the one nearest and dearest to your heart was the one in 1885 where you were surrounded by your family and new friends. Setting both hands on his chest, you lean in to kiss him again and smile softly. "We'll make this one perfect for you, love."

Max knows that after one hundred years of family with your mother and grandparents, he should not have familial hang ups, but he does. “I don’t care about perfect.” He promises. “I just want to do right by you and our child.” He admits. “To be everything my father said I would never be. A good husband, a good father. A good man.”

"Those are the things you are, Max." It never hurts to remind him once in a while. You know that. But you also know that sometimes he has to prove it to himself more than anyone else. "And I'm very proud to be your soulmate."

“I never want that to change.” The Max of before might not have said that in front of a room full of vampires, but he doesn’t care. If they know nothing else about Max Phillips, they should know that he is devoted to his soulmate.

It takes a little while for the hubbub to calm down, but when it does, Eddie squeezes his arm gently around Allison's shoulder on one side of him and looks to his sire and shakes his head in near disbelief. "This is...it's a surprise. I have to admit."

“You don’t think you deserve it?” Max asks, clapping his vampiric brother on the shoulder and even though he’s disappointed for himself, he’s proud for Eddie. He understands why Yayo didn’t name him as the next head of the clan. He would be too distracted by your pregnancy and Eddie is levelheaded where Max is not.

"We're the two youngest, and you're soulmates with his granddaughter," Eddie reminds Max, turning to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You can't blame me for expecting the choice to go in another direction."

“Nah, you deserve it.” Max tells him honestly. “You’re the better vampire and you know it.” He smirks. “Now we just need to get you to act like it.”

"Good thing you're home, then." He laughs, grinning even as he shakes Max's hand with a force that would break a mortal's bones. "We'll catch up with you in a second," he intones, glancing back at you and Allison hugging a few feet away. "I need to talk to our Father about something."

“Of course.” Max flashes him a grin and a wink. “I’m going to go flirt with my wife and your girlfriend.” He teases before moving back to your side protectively.

"Actually..." Allison slips away from your side to take Eddie's outstretched hand. "I'm...part of this conversation. But when we get back out there, I'm stealing you for a dance. Okay, twinkle toes?"

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise furiously but he nods and wraps his hand around your waist. “Hope you’re ready to glide around the floor. I’ve had over one hundred years of practice with Dolly.”

"That's exactly why I'm stealing you," she teases, giving you both a small wave before turning back into Eddie's side to broach the topic of her own siring with the vampire who just stepped down as head of his long-lived clan.

“I wonder if everything is alright.” Max frowns slightly as he looks at the retreating pair and then back at you. “How are you doing, my love?” He asks, cupping your cheek.

"Wonderfully." The glass of grape juice is still sitting nearby and you pick it up, wanting the small comfort of a drink in hand. "In fact, I think when we go home in the morning, we should celebrate."

“How should we celebrate?” Max asks with a grin, even though he’s got some idea.

"Hmmm..." you tease, pretending to think very hard about it even though you already know the answer. "I was thinking...by the same way that we made the little nugget in the first place."

“You mean you want to have sex on the balcony overlooking the ocean and waving to the boats as they pass by?” Max grins as he licks his lips.

"I'm so glad we decided to have a house by the water," you groan softly, humming at the memory of just a few days ago — it was still 1986 but you were back at Seacliff, getting ready to travel back to your own true timeline. "Excellent idea. Extremely good."

“I know.” He grins at you. The house has been a lovely refuge for the two of you. It had given you the separation you needed from mother and grandmother so you didn’t spill the secret.

"So Eddie's head of the vampiric family, huh?" Wrapping your hand around Max's arm, the two of you drift back toward the ballroom at a leisurely pace. "And you'll be his right-hand. That's a hell of a lot of responsibility while we're growing our own family."

“I think that’s why your grandfather didn’t want me to take over.” Max admits. “Although, don’t tell Eddie I said this, he’s a better fit for the job.”

"You're a good pair." You admit that you had balked a little at the time, but when Max had wanted to go check on Eddie's human parents in the few years before he was born, the late 70s and early 80s had actually ended up being a blast. Eddie's little hometown in Northern California was comfortable and fun, and you’d lived a very basic suburban life for a few years. Max had barely stifled tears the day your neighbors had brought little newborn Eddie home from the hospital.

“We’ll see.” Max doesn’t argue but his hand slides down to your stomach proudly. “I’ll honestly be more focused on you and the little biter.” He has already filed the paperwork to ‘inherit’ the money he has made over the past generations. Restraining himself and not taking advantage of his insider knowledge too badly.

“That’s what you’re going with calling the baby, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him but still end up smiling. You’ve wanted this for so long, it almost doesn’t matter what he calls them.

“I can call them a little pup.” He teases, his chest puffed out proudly. “That’s what baby bats are called.”

“That’s actually kind of cute.” The smile on your face widens again and your hand rests over his on your stomach. “Which is appropriate, since you’ve always been my Cutie.”

His shy grin is always something that makes him look younger and despite the years, he still is bashful about the way he had become a bat to spend more time with you. “Need to find a bat mobile for the crib.” He jokes, “or I’ll just change and flap around to entertain them.”

“It will end up being both.” At the edge of the ballroom, you beam at him proudly and hold out your other hand. “First dance as expectant parents?”

“Always.” Max takes your hand and kisses the back of it. You had mentioned how much you loved the gesture when you had first watched Titanic when you were younger and while back in the 1800s it was extremely appropriate. Now he knows that two hundred years from now, he will still kiss the back of your hand to watch the burst of delight in your eyes. “Waltz with me. Today and every day, my love.”

______

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