#that everything his abusers have told him is going to come true and no one is ever going to help him???

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Things Simon Loves About You

Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.

Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.

Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.

He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.

It’s still going on ‘til this day.

He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.

He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.

He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.

Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.

And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.

He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—

You see where this is going.

He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.

He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.

Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!

He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.

Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .

Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.

Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).

Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”

All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[once-upon-an-imagine]

What Was I Made For? - James Potter

A/N: well, it looks like this keeps on working so... I hope you guys like it!

Anonymous asked: Request for hufflepuff black!reader x James with the prompt "Forget it. Just like you forget everything else." Where reader has never had a fun birthday celebration and usually ignores her birthday but James promises to do something fun for her and gets her hopes up but then stands her up accidentally (with happy ending please). Thanks so much &lt;;33

Warnings: this is super angsty! (and super long) but it has a happy ending; mentions of abuse and overall a not happy family life, reader feels weird for not really knowing how to express her feelings; let me know if I missed anything

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

What Was I Made For?

Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for, something I'm made for

12:08 a.m. Your birthday was over. And he didn’t come. Of course, he wouldn’t come. You kept looking at your watch feeling a tiny bit of hope that he would come running any second, apologizing for being late. But, deep down, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, and decided to finally leave. You were angry. But not at him. At yourself. You should have known better. You never should have trusted a word he said. Because he treated you as if you were the center of his universe. And you were stupid enough to believe him. Because that’s what James Potter did. He made you feel as if you were the only thing that mattered to him. Damn him and his stupid beautiful smile. The one that got you into this mess…

“You actually want me to believe that you need my help in Potions?” you insisted as he raised his hands in surrender while you pointed your wand at him. “Why are you asking me?”

“B-because you’re top of our class-”

“That’s not true. Severus Snape is” you insisted.

“First of all, I would never ask Snivelly for help” he rolled his eyes. “And secondly, I doubt that’s true since you are a year younger than us and are already taking Advance Potions-”

“So ask Lilly Evans then-?”

“Evans hates me-”

“So do I!”

“Wait, y-you do?” he asked, confused, stepping away from your wand. He sounded genuinely hurt.

“I…” you weren’t able to continue. You never really hated James Potter. You hated him because you were supposed to, weren’t you? “D-don’t you?”

“I don’t hate you” he informed you. “Why would I?”

“Because Sirius does! And you’re his best friend” you told him. James noticed the hurt in your voice and in your look. He knew you missed Sirius.

“Your brother doesn’t hate you” he insisted and you scoffed, looking away and lowering your wand. “He doesn’t!”

“Look, Potter, you don’t have to lie, okay?” you glared at him a little. “Isn’t your father a famous potioneer? Shouldn’t you be good at Potions?”

“Yeah, he is… you gotta love the irony, love” he smirked.

“Don’t call me that!” you glared at him. “What if Sirius finds out?”

“He won’t” he assured you. “And I honestly don’t think he would mind if he does” he tried.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Isn’t the loveliness of my company enough, love?” he asked but he saw you raising your wand at him and he put up his hands in surrender. “Fine… what do you want?”

You thought about it for a moment. Nobody had ever asked you what you wanted. Not really. You were always just told what to do. And then, you thought of the one thing you had always wanted but could never do.

“Um… if I tell you… do you promise not to tell anyone? Or um… laugh at me?” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down. James had to admit, he had never seen you like this. You always looked so confident, like everyone else in the Black family.

“I promise” he said, making you sigh.

“W-would you teach me um… how to uh- f-fly?” you asked in a small voice, James wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly.

“Um… didn’t you learn how to fly in your first year?” he asked, confused.

“Look, it’s a long story. Are you in or not?” you asked, going back to your usual self and James let out a small chuckle.

“Fine. It’s a deal. You teach me Potions, I teach you to fly” he said, putting his hand so you would shake it. Which you did, pulling him closer.

“And Sirius is not to find about this, is that clear?”

“Perfect.”

And that’s what it was. Perfect. For the following months, you and James spent a lot of time together. In the beginning, you found him incredibly obnoxious since he kept trying to become your friend. Which he quickly managed. You let your guard down and found yourself actually liking his company. And then, it grew into more. You never thought it could happen, but it did. He had somehow become your favorite person. Granted, not many people talked to you so, it wasn’t hard. But if there was a word you would use to describe James Potter was, enchanting. And you quickly fell for him. And you hated it. Because now, here you were. Tired, hungry, alone, and upset. You made your way to the Kitchens, hoping that you could at least get some leftovers from the Elves.

“Miss Black” one of them greeted you happily. “We thought you weren’t going to make it” he said, making you frown in confusion.

“M-make it? What do you mean, Blim?” you asked, confused as two other elves carried a basket your way.

“Mr. Potter asked us to save this for him but he never came” he explained, confused. “Said it was really important for Miss Black’s birthday” he instructed as they handed you the basket. You felt yourself smiling a little but quickly wiped it away. He never came.

“Thank you so much, Blim” you told him.

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Miss Black” he said, as they waved you goodbye. You thanked them happily, after all, they were the only ones that had wished you a happy birthday, and then you made your way to your dorm.

“Hi, Ophelia” you greeted your beautiful black cat.

At least she showed up for your birthday. You changed into your pajamas, played some of your favorite music on your record player, and sat on the small seat you had created against your window to go through the picnic basket only to find your favorite food. He’d remember. Everything was perfect, even the cake. Except, he hadn’t been there. He promised he would and you believed him. You knew Gryffindor played today. You knew they won. But he promised. And you believed him.

But again, it was your fault, really. You should have never let him in. You should have never told him what your favorite food was. Or why you didn’t know how to fly. Or that nobody in your house wanted to share a dorm with you anymore. You shouldn’t even have told him that today was your birthday. Well, yesterday. Because you now understood what he felt for you. It was pity. It wasn’t love.

“Alright, are you ready?” he asked, holding up the broom.

“Actually… I’m having second thoughts about this. I don’t want to do it” you said, nervously.

“Come on, love. I promise you’re gonna love it” he insisted.

You had grown accustomed to him calling you love by now. No matter how much you begged him, he wouldn’t stop. And no matter how much you tried to deny it, you were starting to like it.

“B-but what if I fall?” you asked, making him smile at you adorably and grabbing your hand.

“I promise I would never let that happen” he said sincerely. “But… we don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to” he assured you.

“No, it’s okay” you said, unconvincingly. “I just… need a minute” you told him, sitting down on the grass of the Quidditch pitch.

“Look, I know you’ve told me not to ask why you didn’t learn to fly sooner so…” he said, sitting down next to you. “May I ask why you want to learn now? Why is it so important to you?”

“I don’t know” you said, quietly as you started playing with the grass next to you. “My mother has told me not to my whole life” you informed him. “She always said it wasn’t for ladies” you said, bitterly. “On my first year, she sent an owl saying that she may not be able to control which house her disappointing daughter was sorted into but I was not to ride a broom, and well… you know nobody wants to go against Walburga Black” you said with a sad chuckle. “I always wanted to learn because Siri and Reggie- um… Sirius and Regulus both know how to and they love it” you continued. “I guess I wanted to have something in common with them” you smiled sadly. “Are you… are you crying?”

“I’m sorry” he said, wiping away the few tears on his cheeks. “That was just… um, w-well, every story Padfoot tells me from your home it’s just…”

“Sad, I know” you said as James composed himself. “You can say it” you told him.

“Is it… as bad for you as it is for Sirius?” he asked, worriedly.

“A little” you admitted. “At least Sirius has you, Remus, and Peter” you smiled a little.

“You have me too” he said, placing your hand on top of yours and making you look up at him. “You know that, right?” he asked, feeling his heart beating faster when your smile got bigger.

“You’re sweet, James” you said, surprising him a little. “What?”

“I think that’s the first time you call me by my first name” he smiled.

“Oh, s-sorry, um-”

“No, no” he chuckled. “I liked it” he assured you. “I um… I like you” he said, feeling his cheeks blushing.

“Y-you do?” you asked, breaking James' heart at how genuine your question sounded. As if you were actually confused as to why someone would like you.

“Of course, I do” he said, cupping your cheek gently.

“A-are you about to kiss me?” you whispered.

“Is that okay?” he asked sweetly and you nodded smiling before James gently pressed his lips against yours.

You had no idea what you were feeling. Your entire body felt as if fireworks were exploding everywhere. Never, in a million years would you have thought that kissing James Potter would feel so perfect, but now that you knew, you never wanted to stop.

“Alright. I think I’m ready” you said once you pulled apart. James smile at you and got up, offering you his hand to help you. “Y-you promise I won’t fall, right?”

“Promise, love” he said, pulling you closer and kissing your hand.

Lies. From that moment. You never should have fallen for him. How could you have been so stupid? James may have been right, every story from your childhood was extremely unhappy, but you had never felt so empty inside. Having a best friend who then turned into something more and you were sure that you felt was something that you had never felt before, and now it was gone.

You hoped listening to sad songs would help you cry but your eyes seemed dry. You felt the pain in your heart, which was weird. You never felt that before. But you thought you might as well cry. James said it might help whenever you felt upset. But it ended up being him who cried. And not you. So, you were about to just go to bed, when you heard someone knocking loudly on your door. At 1:47 in the morning. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and quickly ran over to open the door, revealing nobody on the other side.

“James, what the bloody hell are you doing? You’re going to wake up my entire house!” you said, pulling him inside and closing the door as he removed the cloak around him.

“I’m sorry, love! I am so sorry I’m late! I swear I lost track of time!” he slurred out.

He was drunk. Really drunk. He was still in his Quidditch robes, drunk out of his mind.

“Potter, you’re-”

“No, no, no! Please don’t call me Potter” he said, walking closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You only call me that when you’re mad” he pouted. “I know I screwed up but I promise I will make it up to you, love!”

“James, you’re drunk-”

“I know! There was a party because we won and I swear I was just going to be there for a few minutes b-because I’m the captain a-and I just lost track of time and-”

“You should leave” you said, quietly, avoiding his eyes. You knew you would cave if you looked into his beautiful doe-eyed face. And you had made up your mind.

“No, no, sweetheart, please I want to make it up to you. Please give me a chance!”

“You are drunk right now-”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry” he insisted. “I can- I just need to-”

“James, please. I’m tired and you’re drunk. Just go to bed” you said, firmly. “We can talk tomorrow if you want to” you told him.

“I don’t want you to be alone” he said, his eyes tearing up. “It’s your birthday!”

“It’s no longer my birthday so… you can go” you said, getting upset.

“I don’t want to leave you” he said, getting closer to you and cupping your cheek softly, making you look at him. “Please, love. I am so sorry” he said. “Please talk to me, just tell me how I can make this right. You can yell at me! You can throw things, I deserve it-”

“James, I don’t want to yell at you” you said, sighing tiredly. “I just want to go to sleep” you told him.

“I don’t want to leave you, love” he said, with a few tears escaping his eyes and bringing you closer. He was about to kiss you and you smelled the Firewhisky in his breath so you pulled away and he kissed your forehead instead.

“Fine” you sighed. “Y-you can stay but I’m tired, I just want to go to sleep” you gave in.

“Okay” James said, feeling his eyes welling up. He couldn’t believe he had failed you. Just like everyone else in your life. He fucked up. He slowly walked over to your bed and sat down. “Is… this okay?” he asked nervously.

“Sure” you said, sounding exhausted.

You threw yourself on your bed, turning your back to him and James quickly climbed next to you. You instantly felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you to him. You sighed deeply, preparing yourself for what was to come. You were going to miss him. You knew that much. You hated how used you had become to him. How regular it just seemed for him to show up and spend the night with you. So, you took it in. His scent, his touch, everything about him because you knew it would be gone by tomorrow.

“I’m really sorry, love” you heard him say before he kissed the back of your head.

“Just… go to sleep, James” you whispered back and it wasn’t long before you heard his snores.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next morning, James woke up to an empty bed, and the realization of the night before quickly came flooding back into his mind. He quickly sat up and saw you on your desk, writing on some parchment.

“Um- w-what time is it?” were the first words that came out of his mouth and he cursed himself. He was beyond stupid.

“It’s still early” you replied as you continued doing whatever it was you were doing. “If you hurry, you can still go to breakfast before your friends wonder where you are” you said, quietly.

“N-no. I don’t want to go to breakfast” he said, walking over to you. “I want to apologize and talk to you” he said, looking down at the parchment you were working on. “W-what’s that?”

You finished writing and stood up, handing the piece of parchment to him with a serious expression on your face.

“A list of people who are not Severus Snape that can tutor you in potions” you simply said, trying to make your way to your window seat.

“W-what?” he panicked.

“I have your things here” you said, handing him a box with his things. “Oh” you said, realizing you were wearing his sweater so you quickly took it off and placed it on top of his things. “Sorry” you said, and you felt like you were freezing.

“Wait, you’re- you’re breaking up with me?” James asked, placing everything aside and walking closer to you. “Please, just… hold on a second. I promise I can explain-”

“James” you said, taking a step back. It unnerved James how calmly you were talking to him. Like you did in the beginning. Like your walls were up again and he meant nothing more than a stranger to you. “I just don’t think that this is working” you said, silently.

“Please, don’t do this, love! I swear I want to make it up to you” he said as a few tears started falling down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I love you!” he shouted a bit louder than he intended to. “I know I fucked up and I am so sorry! But please, love, just give me another chance, I swear I didn’t mean to miss it-”

“That doesn’t matter, James-”

“Yes, it does! I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, I understand that! But this is a fight, I- I can make it up to you and w-we can go back to the way it was-”

“Why would we do that?” you asked, confused.

“Because that’s what couples do!” he insisted.

“We’re not a couple, James” you said, sounding broken.

“Yes, we are!”

“No, we’re not. You never asked me to be your girlfriend. We’ve never gone out on a date. You barely talk to me outside these walls-”

“You said you didn’t want Sirius to know about us! I told you I didn’t care!”

“That doesn’t make a difference, James!”

“Yes, it does! Because I love you!”

“No, you don't!”

“Yes, I do! I love you so much and I know you love me too!”

“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous, Potter” you said, with a sarcastic chuckle as you tried to walk into your bathroom but James blocked your way.

“No, I’m not!” he said, softly as you tried to look away. He gently cupped your cheek with his big, strong hand and slowly lifted your face so you could see him. Not even a sign of tears while his eyes were flooded. “Tell me you don’t” he said, quietly.

“E-excuse me?” you asked, confused.

“Tell me you don’t love me” he said. “I know you’ve never said that you love me but whenever I tell you that I do, you smile and you kiss me! You’ve never said that you don’t! So, tell me you don’t love me” he insisted.

“James!”

“No! If you want to break up with me, at least talk to me first! You at least have to tell me how you feel about me!” he argued.

“You wanna know how I feel about you?” you snapped pushing yourself away from him.

“Yes!”

“You really want to know how you make me feel?” you said, getting upset.

“Yes!”

“I have no idea how you make me feel, James!” you snapped, breaking James’ heart. “Y-you make me feel happy and angry, and scared, and sad, and crazy, and warm, and vulnerable, and like I can break at any moment, but I somehow know that I won’t because you won’t let that happen but then I feel so lost if you’re not there! And I feel weak and confused, and-” enchanted. “And, alive and like I can float, and sure but unsure at the same time, and like I can be myself and I want to try to be a better person but it wouldn’t matter because you still look at me with that stupid grin! And- and-” you said, trying to take deep breaths. “I don’t know! It’s just a lot all at once and I don’t know how to handle it and I don’t like it!” you said, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t like it, James!”

“Okay, okay!” James said, quickly walking over to you and placing his hands on each side of your face. “Breathe, love, please” he said quietly, as you slowly tried to catch your breath and stop shaking. James was now fully weeping but a small smile formed on his face. “Sweetheart” he said, quietly. “That’s love” he told you.

“W-what?”

“What you’re feeling” he explained. “That’s love” he insisted.

“How do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Because that’s exactly how I feel about you” he said as you managed to even your breathing again.

“I don’t like feeling scared” you whispered.

“I know, love” he smiled. “I know, and I’m scared too-”

“Then why would you still want to be with me?”

“Because I love you” he repeated. “And… you’ve made me the happiest I’ve been and I know that I fucked up yesterday, I do, but I promise I will make it up to you and, if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me, love” he said in a serious tone.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to. You really did. You wanted to know what was on the other side and if you could live a ‘happily ever after’ that you read in so many stories when you were a kid. But this was real life. And you couldn’t break James Potter like you broke everything else you touched.

“No, James” you said, pushing away from him.

“B-but-” he tried but you walked away, going to your bathroom.

“Please, James. Just… forget it. Like you forget everything else" you said sadly before you walked inside, locking the door and your heart broke when you still heard him cry.

James turned to look at the box you left with all of his things. He couldn’t bring himself to take it. He needed to make things right. He walked out of your dorm and your house and made his way over to the Gryffindor Tower, not even caring about breakfast. He plopped himself on the furthest sofa, and after a while, he heard giggling and a group of girls walking over to him.

“Hey, Potter” Marlene asked. It wasn’t usual to see him without his three friends and his energy was entirely different today. “You okay?”

“Um… can I ask you, girls, something?” he said as Marlene, Dorcas, Lily, and Alice sat around him. “I would ask my friends but… in this particular subject they all are just… useless” he chuckled sadly.

“Is it about a girl?” Alice asked.

“Well… yeah” he admitted.

“Oh, Merlin it is! Who is it?” Dorcas asked, excitedly.

“I can’t… say it out loud, Sirius can’t know!”

“He’s your best friend, why can’t he know?”

“Because it’s his sister” Lily smirked.

“What?” the other three reacted shocked.

“How did you know?” James asked, confused.

“I’ve seen you in Potions” she shrugged. “You two are cute together” she smiled. “So, what happened?”

“Well, we had been seeing each other for a while now and yesterday was her birthday and I promised her that we would do something and I had this whole picnic planned in the Astronomy tower but… I lost track of time and-”

“No!” Alice said, her smile dropping.

“You didn’t!” Dorcas frowned.

“You forgot?” Marlene asked, slapping his arm.

“I didn’t mean to! We were playing with our secondary team because we had so many hurt players, I didn’t think we would win! And then we did and I started drinking and I just lost track of time!”

“You are unbelievable potter!” Marlene glared at him.

“I want to make things right! I love her and I’m pretty sure she loves me to-”

“Pretty sure?” Alice asked with an arched eyebrow.

“W-well, she hasn’t said it, exactly, but I know she feels it” he insisted. “Look, this is the first time I’ve felt like this in my life and I know that I fucked up but… I also know she’s scared and it just… I want to make things right” he insisted.

The four girls shared looks amongst themselves before they went back to James and Lily nodded.

“Alright, we’ll help you” she agreed.

“Really?”

“Yes, but only because she has looked happier lately, and you seem to actually be sorry. But if you fuck this up again, Potter-” Dorcas threatened.

“I know, I swear, I won’t!” he told them.

“Alright, then” Alice smirked.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you doing here?”

“For fuck’s sake!” you jumped, falling down the stairs you were on and landing on the floor. “Sirius!” you said, getting up. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” you glared at your older brother.

“I asked first” he shrugged.

“None of your business” you said, rolling your eyes. “You?”

“Same” he said.

“Fine. This has been lovely, then” you said, trying to walk out of the class but Sirius stopped you.

“Okay, no! Wait!” he said, grabbing your arm and turning you around. “I was… looking for you” he admitted.

“If you’re planning on stealing my Potions essay, I haven’t finished it yet-”

“No, that’s not it” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I… wanted to… um… talk to you” he said, awkwardly.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Well, there are… a few things I wanted to tell you” he admitted. “If um… you’d like to come with me to the… Lake or something” he said.

“Well, since you asked so normally” you said, still confused. But this was the first time that Sirius talked to you in so long, you really didn’t want to take it for granted, so you followed him. Once you reached to the Great Lake he sat down near a tree and pointed his side so you would join him. “So… did you bring me here to kill me or-”

“Shut up” he said with a faint chuckle. He then looked inside his bag and got out a small present. “Here” he said, handing it to you. “Um… happy birthday” he said quietly. You raised your eyebrow at him before grabbing the gift.

“Is this thing going to catch fire or something?”

“No!” he argued. But he couldn’t really blame you for thinking that. “No, I promise, I just… I know I’m a day late-”

“You’re about six years late but, alright” you said a bit harshly.

“I guess I deserve that” he muttered as you opened your present and you saw all of your favorite candy from Honeydukes. “I… wanted to say that… I’m sorry” he said.

“Um… why?”

“What do you mean why? For shutting you and Regulus out when I got sorted into Gryffindor and then… still not reaching out to you when you were sorted in Hufflepuff-”

“No, I know but… I mean… why now? Do you need something? Are you dying? Am I dying?”

“Stop it, bug!” he said, rolling his eyes and then looking at you when he realized what he had just called you. You felt your heart stopping for a moment.

“You… you haven’t called me that in a very long time” you said, feeling warmth in your heart. Once you thought was absolutely gone.

“I know… I’m sorry, if you’re not okay with it-”

“It’s okay” you quickly said. “I… kind of missed it” you admitted, looking away.

“You used to hate it” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I know but… once it was gone…” you sighed.

“We’re both really bad at this, aren’t we?” he laughed a little and, to his surprise, you did too.

“We definitely are the worst at feelings” you admitted. “Why are you apologizing to me now?” you asked curiously.

“A couple of reasons” he said. “I miss you” he admitted and you glared at him a little. “I really do!” he insisted. “Look, I get that we are awful at feelings and all that but… I’ve kind of been working on it and… I just… I want a relationship with my little sister” he said genuinely.

“Those are big words, Sirius” you chuckled. “What do you even know about relationships?”

“Well… I’m… currently in one” he said, looking away.

“You are?” you asked, a bit shocked and he nodded. “Wow, who’s the unlucky girl?”

Sirius let out a scoff, glaring at you. “Actually… it’s not a girl” he corrected.

“Is it Lupin?” you asked as Sirius widened his eyes in surprise.

“How did you know?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, you sink a deeper level of idiot whenever you’re around him” you informed him.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. Last week you knocked down your cauldron and three others when he laughed” you pointed out.

“That was… an accident” he tried to defend himself.

“Sure, it was” you said sarcastically.

“So… what do you think?” he asked, nervously.

“Why would you care what I think?”

“Well, you’re my sister, and… you’re also… the first person I’ve told” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Y-yeah” he said with a nervous smile.

“Well, if I’m being completely honest… I think Remus can do a lot better than you” you said with a smirk, making Sirius push you a little and glare at you.

“That’s not funny” he argued.

“I wasn’t joking” you said. “Is he… the one that’s making you get in touch with your feelings?”

“Kinda” he admitted. “You know, he and James grew up in a functional home, and… they know how to feel like a normal person” he informed you. “So… a few months ago, I was where you are right now” he added.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, nervously.

“I’m talking about you and Prongs and how you are afraid of being in a relationship with him” he said, casually.

“W-what? D-did James say-?”

“He didn’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar” he shrugged. “I’ve known for a while and… to be honest, I have never seen him as happy as he is with you” he told you. “And… I have never seen him as miserable as today” he added. “So, I knew you were probably feeling worse, but… had no idea how to express it” he told you.

“How would you even know that?”

“Because you’re just like me” he told you. “A few months ago, Remus and I had our first fight. He told me that he loved me and… I kind of ran away” he said. “We didn’t speak for about three days. I was in such a bad mood, even I didn’t want to deal with myself” he explained. “Look, I know that we are wired differently than everyone else because mum and dad didn’t exactly teach us how to… feel or… love” he continued. “So, when someone does, it feels-”

“Fucking weird” you added.

“Yeah” he agreed. “But… that doesn’t mean that we can’t, you know that, right? And it doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it, bug” he told you. “I know I screwed up on my part and I am really sorry for pushing you away-”

“Why did you do it?” you asked all of the sudden. “I get that you were angry when you came back home from your first year but… Regulus and I never thought any different from you and you… shut us down” you said, sadly. “And then… the next year, when I was sorted into Hufflepuff, I thought maybe-”

“I know! I should have talked to you, I know, I was an idiot!” he said, genuinely. “Remus has made me talk about it a lot lately and… I want to make things right” he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to and I don’t expect you to do it right away if you do, I just… had to start somewhere” he smiled, hopeful.

“By giving me candy and saying happy birthday a day later?” you smirked a little. “It’s a good start, I guess” you nodded, grabbing a Sugar Quill and giving him one.

“Well, I also… wanted to help you fix things with Prongs” he suggested.

“Because you love James so much now that you are an expert on feelings and don’t want to see him sad?”

“Well… sort of, but… I love you too, bug” he said, making you almost choke on your sweet. You were pretty sure he had never said that before. “I know, we don’t really say that to each other or anyone else. Remus was the first person I ever said it to. It feels good, you should try it” he continued. “I know you love James-”

“How could you possibly know that? Even I don’t know that!”

“I think that you do and that’s why you’re so scared” he told you. “And I know I’m probably the last person that should be telling you this but… there’s nothing wrong with that” he assured you.

“It’s just…” you sighed. “W-what if he realizes how broken I am and he doesn’t want to be anymore?” you asked, sadly, breaking Sirius’ heart a little. “Or if I end up breaking him?”

“Bug, you’re not that broken-”

“Really? Do you want to know what I was doing in Potions class? I was looking for something that would make me cry” you explained.

“Really?”

“Yes, James cries all the time, did you know that?”

“Yeah, he cried when Moony and I told him we were dating” Sirius laughed.

“I feel empty without him, Sirius, and yet… not a single tear!”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you’re broken” Sirius insisted. “We never cry” he continued. “Blacks don’t cry” you both said at the same time, letting out a small laugh. “We’ll get there, bug” he said, pulling you to him and kissing the side of your head.

“We?” you asked, a little confused.

“Oh yeah, now that you have accepted me back into your life I’m not leaving-”

“Can I reconsider this-?”

“Nope, it’s too late! We’re going to be best friends, bug!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You had surprisingly spent the rest of the day with Sirius, and Remus had joined at some point. They took you to Hogsmeade as Remus insisted on at least taking you out for your birthday. You liked Remus, and you could see that he definitely brought out the best in your brother. They seemed very in love. And at some point, it dawned on you. You were in love with James. He had been right. What you felt for him, was love. You were still terrified but you had made up your mind to talk to him the next day. Remus and Sirius even said the four of you could go to Hogsmeade together. This was definitely the craziest thing you had ever gone through in your life. But you were done feeling sorry for your self and you were done being afraid. You definitely did not want to spend the rest of your life like your parents. Feeling nothing and being unhappy. So, you would talk to James and try to be happy for once. However, when you opened your dorm’s door, you saw that he had already gone ahead of you.

Your mouth dropped when you saw the scene in front of you. Your dorm was decorated with beautiful fairy lights above, like floating stars, and candles and flowers everywhere. James was in the corner, finishing putting some flowers next to your bed.

“James?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, love- I uh-” he stuttered, walking closer to you. “Um, I know you told me to f-forget about it but…” he sighed, offering you the last flower in his hand. “I don’t want to” he chuckled. “I don’t want to forget about it and… I don’t want to forget about you” he explained. “Love, I know that I majorly fucked up” he continued. “And you have every right to hate me and never forgive me if you want to but… I wanted to give you the birthday that I had planned for you first. The birthday that you deserved before I royally fucked it up” he said, grabbing the picnic basket on your window seat.

“Did you ask the elves to do the whole meal again?”

“N-no” he assured you. “Um… I did it myself” he said, making your heart flutter a little. “Granted, I… uh, I don’t think it’s going to be as good” he chuckled. “So, we don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to” he assured you before he placed the basket back down. “I um… I also didn’t get to give you your present” he said, grabbing a bag on your nightstand.

“You-” you felt something weird happening. “You got me a present?”

“Of course, I got you a present, love” James smiled sweetly. “Would you like to open it? Or we can eat first if you’d like. Or you can eat. And I can leave if you prefer-”

Before he could go on, you quickly grabbed the bag from him. James smiled to himself at how excited you looked, opening your gift. And then, you pulled it out. A book. And a stuffed rabbit. An exact rabbit like the one in the book. Wearing a small knitted cardigan with Gryffindor colors. Just like the one James had given you.

“What-?” you tried to catch your breath. “H-how did you-?”

“The sweater comes off” he smiled. “I asked my mum to make it, I thought it would look cute because you like mine so much” he explained.

“N-no, how um- how did you know-?”

“You told me, remember?” he frowned, confused. “How when you were a kid, and your mum took you and your brothers to Diagon Alley and you ran off and got lost and ended up in a muggle library” he continued. “And you read that book and you always wanted a rabbit like that one-”

“Y-you remember that?” you asked, in complete disbelief.

You told him that story so long ago. You remember it perfectly. It was the first night he stayed in your dorm and you ended up talking all night. You had no idea he would remember it. It felt like forever ago.

“Of course, love” he said as if it was obvious.

Before either one of you could say anything else, you threw your arms around James’ shoulders and you planted a big kiss on his lips. James widened his eyes in surprise a little before he closed them and wrapped one of his arms around your waist and he placed his other hand on your cheek.

“This is…” you sighed when you pulled apart and you looked down at your rabbit. “This is the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me” you chuckled.

"Um... I also wanted to ask if... you would like to be my girlfriend?" he said, nervously.

"I would really like that" you nodded.

“Wait, are you… are you crying?” James asked, brushing a few tears with his thumb.

“A-am I?” you asked as a smile appeared on your face. You brought your hand up to your face and you saw that it was, in fact, covered in tears. “I’m crying!” you chuckled as you noticed James’ eyes welling up as they usually did. “James, I’m crying!”

“I can see that, love” he smiled brightly at you. “I’m really sorry I forgot your birthday” he said, pulling you closer.

“It’s okay” you assured him. “You cooked for me” you said with a small laugh.

“I also apologize for that. I have no idea what I was doing” he warned you.

“It can’t be that bad” you assured him. “Would you like to join me?”

“R-really?”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards your window. You sat down as James pulled out the food, smiling when he saw you playing with your rabbit’s ear and going through the pages of your book. He had never seen you smile like this. And he promised to himself that he would do anything he can to keep that smile placed there.

“James?”

“Yes, love?”

“Um… please don’t cry when I say this but… uh, you were right… earlier today” you said, nervously before you cleared your throat and you looked at him. “I love you” you admitted, feeling an enormous weight off your shoulders. And of course, James’ tears quickly ran down his cheeks.

“Y-you do?” he asked with a sweet smile and you nodded.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it” you said, nervously. “I just… well, y-you know Sirius and I don’t really- um… I was just… scared because we were sort of instructed to… not really feel anything and I just… didn’t want to screw things up with you because you are very in touch with your emotions and I’m a bit broken that way-”

“You’re not broken, love” he insisted, holding your hand in his. “I wish you could see yourself as I see you. Because you’re perfect” he said, making you smile a little. “And I love you so much” he said, pulling you for another kiss and he felt your smile against his lips. “Say it again” he asked when you pulled away.

“James-”

“Please” he pouted, making you laugh and roll your eyes a little.

“I love you” you said, making him throw his arms around you and pulled you to him, peppering your face with kisses as he heard you laugh, which was his favorite music.

“I love you too!”

The End

[Bonus Scene The Next Day at The Three Broomsticks...]

"Sirius... are you crying?" Remus asked his boyfriend.

"It's just so beautiful" he said, wiping his tears as you rested your head against James' shoulder. "How Prongs set everything up for her birthday after he forgot and he got her that cute rabbit" he said, while Remus chuckled and hugged him and he looked at James.

"You kind of opened the gate for Blacks to cry, you know that right?"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I really love how this turned out so I hope you liked it too! xD let me know what you think! Remus is coming next and then Sirius!

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hiya love! My request is for Steve Rogers. Reader and Steve a fairly new relationship. They are having a fight about something and Steve gets loud and gesticulates, Reader flinches (physical abuse in a past relationship, Steve doesnt know about it yet). He notices... How would He react to that?

hello, I decided to turn this into a headcanon, and I hope you enjoy what I wrote.

warning - slight mention of a past abusive relationship.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

HEADCANON OF STEVE REACTING TO YOU FLINCHING DURING A FIGHT

You and Steve had only been dating for a little while, about five months now. You had met during one of Tony Stark’s parties. Steve had seen you in the corner, staying away from everyone as your nerves caught up. 

Everything had been okay for a while, you got along so well, and it felt like a fairytale. You two hadn’t fought yet, which made you think it was too good to be true.

Maybe you should’ve thought otherwise because now you were fighting big time over something so small.

You knew he had specific rules for certain things. Like how you weren’t supposed to come to the compound when he was working, the public wasn’t supposed to know of your relationship because he had enemies, and Steve didn’t want you to get hurt.

But he had forgotten his phone and wallet, and you thought he might need them. Being the kind girlfriend you were, you also decided to get him some lunch seeing as you had to go there anyway to drop his things off. What could be so harmful? 

Apparently, you were wrong. Steve was furious when you showed up. His ears and face turned red from anger, and he walked around you, slamming the door shut, causing you to jump slightly. 

“What did I tell you about coming here?! How can you be so stupid?!” He raised his voice, and you watched him raise his hand. You didn’t think Steve would actually hit you, but you flinched anyway. Your eyes immediately closed, and you began to close in on yourself.

You never told Steve about your previous relationship, one because he never asked, and two, it was too early in the relationship to disclose. You didn’t want to be seen as weak in front of THE Captain America. 

Steve caught it straight away. His anger immediately disappears and is replaced with pains in his chest. He quickly steps back, making himself smaller than you because he can see you shivering from his height. “Doll, It’s okay…” It felt like he had been shot, watching you curl into yourself. “I’m here… I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay.” Steve whispers, keeping his hands to himself, waiting for you to come to him instead. 

You shiver, slowly opening your eyes and noticing Steve staring at you worriedly. “I–I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Doll. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the jerk. It’s okay.” He reassures you, smiling softly when you slowly approach him and immediately sink into his arms. “Now, do you want to tell me why you reacted that way, Doll?” 

“J–just an ex…” You swallow, not wanting to relive those memories, and Steve doesn’t expect you to. He squeezes you tightly against him, his face growing red with anger again, but not toward you. 

For once, Steve was happy with the privileges that come with being an Avenger because once you fall asleep. He’ll have Tony find this man so he can pay him a little visit.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[littlemisssatanist]

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

[fangirl-writes]

Planning Our Future

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of child abuse, mentions of a sex

Notes: I wrote a little blurb when watching the ‘Midsummers’ episode and decided to turn it into a whole fic. Also I still haven’t seen season 3 yet so no spoilers please!

Summary: JJ dreams about running away with the gold and taking you with him.

You and JJ were cuddled together in one of the hammocks tied to the chateau’s trees. It was just close enough to the water to hear the waves, but far enough away not to get sprayed. That, and you could watch the sun dip into the water every evening.

JJ’s arms were wrapped around you tightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

It had been a long day.

John B. was in the hospital after Topper pushed him from the Kildare Hawk’s Nest, with Sarah Cameron by his side.

He was losing his mind about the gold and about her. 

“You think he’s still going to try to find it after this?” You asked quietly. It felt wrong to speak in a normal tone and disrupt the silence that the two of you had built there.

“Probably,” JJ replied. “As long as he didn’t break any ribs or anything, he’ll bounce back pretty quick. I’ve never seem him as determined about anything other than this.”

You hummed. “Don’t act like you haven’t been enabling him a little bit.”

He frowned. “No. In fact I told him that if he kept going down this road he was going to end up just like his dad.”

“JJ, that’s a horrible thing to say.”

“It’s true. They’re too much alike. Big John wouldn’t give it up either and who knows where he is now. Probably floating in the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

You didn’t respond to that. As blunt as it was, he was right.

A few moments passed before either of you spoke again.

“So...are we gonna talk about it?” You asked.

“Talk about what?”

“J,” you said. “Come on. You take the fall for Pope then turn up with a busted lip and bruises-”

“Can we not talk about this?”

“No, JJ, I’m sick of not talking about it,” you said, moving so that you were on the other side of the hammock, facing him. “You can’t stay there if he’s gonna treat you like this. Everybody knows what a piece of shit he is so why don’t you-”

“Shut up!”

You snapped your mouth closed.

He’d never raised his voice at you before.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just...I can’t leave. I don’t got anywhere to go. If Big John was still around, he’d take me in a heartbeat but your guys’ parents don’t like me and I know it. And I’m not letting DHS take me away. If John B. can stick around and play the system, then I can deal with this.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

JJ sighed. “I know just...can you come back here?”

You frowned but slid back over into JJ’s arms, laying your head on his chest; his heartbeat a welcomed lullaby. 

“We get that gold,” he said. “You and me. We’re gonna ship off somewhere nice. Somewhere our parents can’t reach us.”

You hummed good-naturedly.

“We’ll surf waves every day and smoke only the finest marijuana.”

You smiled.

“Our own little slice of paradise. Far from OBX.”

“That sounds amazing, J,” you said, softly.

“We’ll have our own house and everything. Have sex in every room, just to christen it.”

You giggled. “Can we have a waterbed?”

“Of course we can have a waterbed. But also a memory foam mattress for when we need more stability.”

He was staring up at the sky that was slowly fading from orange into inky night, eyes glazed over as he dreamed.

“I’ll buy you a pretty diamond ring. And we’ll get married on the beach in the summertime by the water. Barefoot, but I’ll still wear a tux if you want me too, as long as you wear white. We’ll only invite the pogues...”

You were lapsed into comfortable silence, the hammock slowly swinging.

“I put the gun to his head,” JJ said, suddenly, making you sit up from his chest. “He was asleep and I had it right there” - he gestured to his forehead - “I could’ve killed him...he’d’ve deserved it...but I couldn’t pull that trigger, Y/N. I couldn’t do it.”

You took his head in your hands and pulled him to your chest, the tears in his eyes falling freely and he sobbed in your hold.

“I hate him,” he whispered. “I hate him so much, why couldn’t I do it? Why...”

You blinked back your own tears. “Cause he’s still your dad.”

JJ didn’t reply, just sobbed in your arms.

“Tell me about our wedding again,” you said. “Will we have a priest?”

“No...” JJ said, softly, sniffing and wiping his tears. “Pope will get ordained and perform the service. A full pogue ceremony, nobody else. Not even parents.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

“I love you, JJ,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” JJ replied.

“Will we have kids?”

“Yeah...but not for a while. John B.’ll probably have them first. Then Kie. We’ll probably be the last of the group to have any.”

“Names?”

“Booker, after John B., for a boy. I kinda like Bianca, for a girl.”

“I like it, too,”

JJ kept dreaming for a while, until the both of you fell asleep under the stars. In your own little paradise, right in the OBX.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

From Her Knees

❝either we're smoking, or we're drinking, or we're at each other's throats. ❞

Summary: You're in a toxic relationship with Aegon.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Unnamed Female Character (no Y/N)

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of an old fic for a different character, but it fits Aegon so well that I had to write it for him. I hope that you enjoy it! As always your support through a reblog or comment is appreciated!

Warnings: alcohol use, language, p in v intercourse, oral (m receiving), mentions of previous domestic abuse, they are so bad for each other.

“You don’t do anything, Aegon!”

That was true.

The words she screamed at him usually were. He knew that, of course. That’s why it pissed him off so much. She was always right and she rubbed it in his face every single time. He had been home less than an hour after the shittiest day and she was already gunning for him.

“When am I ever here?” He spat. “I’m never fucking here! And when I am here, I have to listen to you bitch, and moan, and complain, and I’m fucking sick of it!”

That was also true.

He was almost always working; bearing the cross of being his father's son, forced to live a life he despised. It was exhausting, and draining, and all he wanted to do was come home and rest for the few short hours that he had before he had to get up and do it all over again. She’d never let him, though.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? Boo-fucking-hoo, Aegon,” she threw her hands up in the air. “What are you going to do? Leave? You tried that before, remember? It didn’t work.”

She was right again. How many times had they broken up? They had probably been separated more times than they had actually been together. He broke up with her the night before over something equally as futile, and yet, here he was again.

He just couldn’t stay away.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch!” He yelled. “You know that?” 

Yeah, she knew. She always had been and he always knew it. Yet, he stayed, she stayed. The two couldn’t stay away from each other.

They were moths to a flame.

He threw the door open, marching outside to the balcony, cigarette already lit and beer bottle in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, but she didn’t flinch. She was used to slamming doors, used to him in her face. Their screaming fits turned into fist fights almost every single time.

“Yeah, well fuck you,” she mumbled.

She poured herself a drink, swallowing the warm liquid quickly; it burned the whole way down. His silhouette danced along half-opened blinds as he paced back and forth on the balcony. Through the thin glass of the door she could hear him talking to himself; talking himself through hypothetical arguments while waving his hands in the air as he rehearsed. She didn’t even know why she was mad anymore. That’s how it was most nights. Something so small would trigger one of them, and then one sarcastic remark after the other and they were fighting again. The only time they ever got along was when they were both drunk, high, and fucking like animals on the closest surface available.

He was contemplating leaving again. Contemplating grabbing the keys, getting in the car, and spending the night in the gutter of some bar. This relationship was toxic. It always had been. His family begged him to stay away from her; the ‘narcissistic bitch’ they called her. Told him she was no good for him and that all she did was use him for money and sex. No matter how many times he tried to tell them that wasn’t true, they still wouldn’t believe him.

She didn’t want or need money. She didn’t want or need the sex. Hell, she barely wanted him. She could do so much better, they both knew it. She was beautiful and smart, and had everything going for her. Why she was sucked into this black hole of a fling, he would never know, and at times that made him feel even worse; knowing that she- in all of her holier-than-thou attitude and narcissistic personality disorder- she was still the prize of the two of them. He was just some cubicle junkie who only amounted to anything because of his last name, not because he cared.

Not because he was good at anything.

He came back inside when he was done smoking his cigarette and feeling sorry for himself. She was sitting at the table waiting for him. That was it, that was all it took; either he left or it was going to be World War III. He knew it by that shrewd look in her eye. The one that said, ‘you say one word to me, and I’m going to hurl this bottle of Jack Daniels at your fucking head’. He pulled the keys from the counter and started making his way back towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” She asked him, standing up from her seat at the table and placing her hands on her hips.

He rolled his eyes and stopped. He really, really didn’t want to argue with her. He was tired, his muscles were sore, and he was so fed up with her shit. When he turned to face her, he sighed internally. She looked so cute standing there like that. Like at any moment she could just jump on him and claw his eyes out.

He hated crazy, but he loved her crazy.

“Well?” She drew out after not getting an answer the first time.

She was really trying to start something, and Aegon was caught in a cross hair; if he answered her, they fought. If he didn’t answer her, they still fought. If he left, they’d fight when he came back. Either way, there was going to be a fight.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” He yelled, knowing that everyone in their apartment complex could hear him. “Away from you and you’re fuckin’ voice that’s like nails on a goddamned chalkboard.”

All he had to do was say ‘I’m leaving’. He didn’t have to add the comment about her voice. But back-handed remarks were his thing, and he really couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it really mattered.

“Oh my voice is like nails on a chalkboard, huh?” She replied. “You aren’t saying that when you’re asking me to scream for you in bed! And trust me, the only reason I would be screaming is in laughter because your dick is so fucking small!”

She was in his face now, not intimidated at all by the way his eyes darkened. His fists were balled. He had hit her before a few times, and he always felt bad about it. But Gods, she was so annoying.

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” She egged on.

He was seriously thinking about it. Shut her up for the rest of the night. She might even pack her bags and stay with someone else for a few weeks. But he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. Instead he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into him, crashing his lips on to hers. It didn’t take long at all for her to wrap her legs and arms around him.

They wasted no time; Aegon pushed her up against the wall, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled her panties to the side, and spit in his hand to wet the tip of his cock before he pushed himself into her. She gasped, fistfuls of his hair. Her mouth hung open as he pounded into her, slamming her up against the wall with each thrust. Her heavy moaning in his ear only added to the built up frustration that he needed to take out on her. She nibbled at his ear lobe, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he groaned in between thrusts.

Aegon pulled out of her and forced her down to her knees, shoving his wet cock into her mouth. She sucked the taste of herself off of him with pleasure before he pulled himself out and slapped the tip against her cheek, exploding on her face. He stood there for a minute, riding out the climax as she licked the dripping seed from his shaft. Then, she looked up at him from her knees; the sticky white liquid covering her face as she smiled. 

This was why he couldn’t stay away.

She stood up, adjusting her clothes, and wiped the semen off of her face with the t-shirt she had pulled off of him. Aegon fixed his pants and plopped down on the couch.

“Grab me another beer, would you?” He asked after a yawn.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “Get your own fucking beer.”

“You’re so ungrateful!” He replied.

“I’m ungrateful?” She started. “I fucking cook your meals, wash your fucking clothes, do your fucking dishes! And what do you do? Nothing!”

She suddenly realized why she was mad at him in the first place.

“Here we go again,” He replied with a groan. “For the last time, I’m never fucking here!”

[sugawara-kkoushi]

Thoughts about Rezaren’s characterization:

Spoilers beneath the cut.

I’ve seen some people lament the way his character seems to completely flip in episode 4, saying it feels unrealistic and reductive. But that scene was honestly my favorite in the whole series.

I’ve seen complaints like these with other villains before, in which they’re “cartoonishly evil, puppy-kicking villains” that suddenly feel one-dimensional because they’re going to such extremes and seem beyond reason. While that can be true for some villains, that’s not the case with Rezaren. 

What makes the mindscape scene between him and Miriam so good is how much it highlights his core perspective: That she belongs to him. Rezaren hasn’t changed at all - we’re just getting a stark, real picture of his true colors. His personality, motivations, everything - remain consistent from start to finish. 

His introduction scene tells us everything we need to know about his character: He’s charismatic, commanding, and self-serving. His love interest tries to stop him from summoning a spirit, but he disregards and manipulates her with hollow placations. Then he refuses to heed the summoned Memory Spirit’s warnings, only talking over it and trying to force it to do what he wants. Two times in one scene, he’s been told “No”, and two times, he disregards what others have to say. He will get what he wants, be it by manipulation or by force.

As the story unfolds, his love interest tries and fails multiple times to tell him “No” - “No, you shouldn’t go back to the vault”, “No, you can’t use blood magic”, “No, you have to stay in your quarters as is lockdown protocol”, “No, I’m in the middle of an interrogation” - and every single time he asserts his authority over her to get his way.

Then we get to the mindscape conversation between him and Miriam. He shows her memories of their past growing up together - visions where they’re happy and playing like siblings. But when she shows him her own perspective - one which shatters any idea that they were familial equals, he can’t accept it. Indeed, he completely dismisses it, saying that they were all suffering under his mother’s parenting, so they were the same.

But that’s not when he turns on her. 

It’s when she tells him simply, “No.” 

It’s when he “offers” her a chance to be his slave again, but treated “like a sister” as he rules the Chantry as the new Divine. A single refusal from her, and the vision in the mindscape literally starts to crumble and crack violently. It’s here that he rips into her - tearing her dignity down, telling her she’s less than a slave, that he offers her purpose and that she will only live because he wills it. 

This is what real life manipulative abusers do. They tear you apart, then offer you salvation - salvation that only comes by living the way they tell you to. And if you dare to refuse? They get violent. 

He is an Abuser - a Slaver. 

This is why I think his characterization was better than what people think. He didn’t “suddenly become evil” - he always was. This is what real abusers look like. To most, they seem pretty okay and generally get along with people. But that monstrous, narcissistic mindset lurking beneath the surface can come out very fast when challenged. 

[noroi1000]

Feeling Warm

Gojo (in toxic relationship) x maid reader

Words: 8k

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, his girlfriend abuse y/n. NSFW

Gojo's toxic girl name is Chloe. I don't mean to offend anyone with this.

Summary: You've been working for Gojo as a maid for two years now. His girlfriend recently showed up. But it was obvious how she used him.However, she did not accept that he broke up with her.He was looking for someone nice and sweet. On your example.You can't buy love, but you can buy fake love.He wanted someone to love him. So could you at least pretend and give him that fake love?

You couldn't do that.

You looked at the girl who clearly showed dislike for you.

You looked at your employer with whom you have been living for two years. He looked at you too.

You felt your wet coat soaking your apron that you were wearing.

Actually, it was your job to do household chores for your employers.

Cleaning, cooking, washing clothes. It's something you do.

Actually, Gojo-san is paying you what he shouldn't be paying. Because maid services are not that expensive. And he pays you more than he should.

Perhaps because he wanted you to be at his house all day when he was at home.

You don't know why he wanted it.

Once every two days when he was gone, you would come and clean his whole house.

And also on the day he was coming, you were there too, cooking him food and giving him a bath.

Sometimes he would ask you to give him a little massage when he was really tired.

He paid you that much, so you didn't say no to him.

Besides, you're not surprised that he asks if you can stay with him since he lives alone in such a big house.

It's like he's paying you extra for your company.

You could even do it without his money. After all, you've known him for two years.

But it's not like you don't need the money...

You get so much out of your monthly salary... You could buy yourself a new house, or even go to work by car instead of taking the bus or train.

But you help your family financially. You have younger siblings and you do not come from a rich family.

You want to support your parents, so you send them some money. Every month.

You leave as much as you need.

One day Gojo asked you how you are at home. Or should he pay you more because he noticed that the maid's salary is small. You told him that he pays you more than he should anyway. Because it was true.

He earns so much... He's so rich. Maybe that's why he thinks you don't make enough money.

He offered you more for an hourly rate, but you refused. You can't take money to sit in his house. It wouldn't be fair. And you're not that kind of person.

If you were doing more, or had much more work, you would have accepted a raise from him. However, you didn't do that much. He already gave you one raise because you got new responsibilities when he trusted you more.

You had the keys to his house. Besides, it took a while for him to let you come into his house when he wasn't there.

You knew he wasn't trusting easily. It wasn't bad.

Besides, you couldn't rob him... He was too nice a man for you.

You washed his clothes, you arranged it, you cleaned every corner of his house. You cooked him whatever he wanted.

You also took care of the garden on his estate.

You did everything right.

You took a job as his maid because you were looking for a job. And you were out of luck. Nothing was possible in your area. And sometimes you missed it because someone else was ahead of you.

In your family, your aunt works as a housewife for rich people.

At her suggestion, you wanted to do the same. If you knew how to cook and also did housework well, why not.

You put an ad in the paper because you didn't know anywhere else.

And a week later you got a call from your current employer.

He reportedly saw your ad in the newspaper while his friend was reading it. He needed someone to take care of his house because he is often busy. So he thought to talk to you.

You were very shy at your first interview. Because your employer was to be a young and very handsome man. He smiled at you, and even paid for your coffee when you met at the coffee shop.

You thought because of how nervous she was, he wouldn't give you the job. However, at the end of your meeting, he said that if you want, he will gladly hire you.

You wore different clothes at his house, and your apron was always there.

You were so tense when you finished something and you were afraid he wouldn't like it.

But he never complained.

You had the hardest time with his clothes and baths.

Because he asked you for all this.

You had problems in the beginning. You were afraid to ruin his very expensive clothes. You were ashamed to arrange his underwear...

You were even more ashamed when he asked you to wash his back while he was taking a bath in the bathtub.

He didn't seem ashamed or anything.

And when he saw your red face, he smiled.

His eyes were magical...

You don't know why, but it was.

The longer you were there, the better you got.

Even though you still blushed when he went shirtless or only in a towel, asking if you could give him a massage because his back hurts.

And your little hands on his muscular back were always something else.

You've been watching massage tutorials online. So you managed to make him relax.

You knew he was a stranger to you, but you couldn't do anything when you saw the lipstick stains on his shirt.

He was just your employer. a free man. You were not for yourself. you were nobody. You were just someone who cleaned and cooked for him.

He had his life. He was a young man. Of course he had needs. And since you haven't heard of him having a girlfriend, he must have met his needs somehow.

Your employer was a young playboy...

Someone whose charm made you feel something.

He was nice to you. He was handsome. He had a sense of humor. Besides, you, like no one else, got to know his childish behavior. And also that he is sometimes spoiled and doesn't care what other people feel. It was probably something others didn't see in him.

However, the real Gojo Satoru was someone who had goofy, irritating behavior. Who laughed at danger and people. Who immediately said what he thought. He was painfully honest.

So you understand why he didn't have a girlfriend or wife. Because it was better to leave the house, pick up some willing girl and then come home.

He once told you that all the women he knows closely say they would never want to be with him. They don't like his behavior.

He told you that as a joke.

And you answered him kindly.

„You're not that bad. If that's your character, you should look for someone who will accept you for who you are. I don't think you're as bad as others make you out to be."

He thanked you for the advice.

And then you noticed that he started looking for a girlfriend.

It was a year later when you met him.

You found out you fell in love with him...

Really...

Your employer was someone who was your type...

At first you thought he was serious and thoughtful. Someone mentally very adult who spends a lot of time at work.

And you got an adult child. Hell of a handsome and rich teacher (?) who is addicted to sweets and eats a lot, and acts childish despite his sometimes scary aura when he's serious.

You don't know if he's just a teacher or someone else as well. But you also don't know why his wardrobe has blindfolds and sunglasses that are so black you can't see anything.

You just don't know much about him.

And you guess you'll never know...

You're just his maid.

And he has a different taste in women...

He wouldn't want a girl whose job is to look after someone else's house.

Plus, you definitely look different than his girlfriend he has now.

Well, Chloe showed up four months ago. Their relationship was different than it is now. Well, Gojo hasn't changed. She has changed.

He, following your advice, was himself.

You couldn't have your crush, so you wanted to help him. You're too shy to tell him that. So you wanted to let go.

Ever since he first met her in the city until he finally brought her home.

And they've been a couple ever since.

He seemed pleased.

But she often told him to stop doing things.

When he asked you if you could bake him a cake, she forbade you, telling him that he can't because if he eats that much he'll get fat and she doesn't want to show up at the beach with a fat boy.

She didn't like some of his behavior. And you knew he was him then. the real him.

She often got annoyed when he played with her.

Until he, too, began to get annoyed with the way she behaved.

Completely different from the beginning.

At first she was nice and even sweet.

Now she was a real bitch.

She practically did not smile at him, sometimes she would come to his house to sit with him for a while.

He understood that she was working.

But at some point he found out that she quit her job.

She even wanted to move in with him, but he said it would be better for her to stay at her house because he is often away.

She didn't like it.

They were still a couple, but their relationship was strained.

They ignored each other. They quarreled often. And it ended up that when he started to get off balance, she ran away in fear, only to come back the next day.

For her there was a rule: sex fixes everything.

And yet she couldn't give him much.

Often her phone rang while they were fucking. She never said who was calling her, but she pushed him away and took the phone to his dressing room to talk.

And those moments that should have been a pleasure for them passed.

It's not like he was hurt. He didn't care. But he also had his needs.

And he complained later, even saying it to you while you were cooking.

Sometimes also when she had finished, she wouldn't let him come because she felt tired.

You often witnessed their quarrels.

They weren't that close after all.

He thought he finally found a nice girl.

However, that was not the case.

He hoped to find love, but he failed.

There was no love between them.

But he sometimes thought it was his fault.

You noticed that he really cares about others.

He was worried that he had done something wrong.

But she just wasn't accepted the way he is.

He also saw his account statements. Well, he let her use his credit card once or twice. And then she was just pulling it out of his wallet.

You witnessed it too.

She was probably transferring money from his account to hers. Because there was no way he would give her access to his account.

She forbade him to behave as he naturally behaved.

So over time, he noticed that she was bragging about him in front of her friends. And that she has new, fashionable and expensive clothes.

For "stolen" money from him.

Throughout the month this is going on, he's been trying to be calm.

Because he thought maybe he could do something to fix what he broke.

You were afraid to speak up, but at some point you got over it and told him it wasn't his fault.

Because it wasn't.

He didn't want it to turn out to be because of him. He really liked Chloe. But that was in the beginning.

She was sweet, kind and caring. Completely different from what she is now.

She didn't like you from the beginning. Perhaps because you were closer to your employer.

But she didn't even want to remember your name from the beginning.

She thought he should have a better maid because you often make mistakes.

But he didn't listen to her.

You didn't answer and apologized. You didn't want to be the cause of their quarrel.

She who hates you. And he who always stands by your side.

Would it be the same now?

"I've told you many times to call before you come here. You can't just walk into my house without asking, you know?"

"I didn't come in here. Your maid opened the door for me. At least she was useful for something after all..." She snarled throwing her wet coat at you. "Hang it up on the hanger, but gently. It's new. I don't want anything to break. Or better yet, dry it while you're here. I guess that's your job."

You caught the coat correctly, which helped your apron.

"Why are you looking at me? I don't pay to stand and do nothing." she said waving her hand at you.

"Sorry..." you grunted and walked away, walking towards the laundry room at home.

"You don't pay her. I do it." he said as you disappeared down the hall.

"But she's our cleaner."

"She's not a cleaner."

"So what is she doing? I believe she's here to clean your loo and wash your pants."

"She's supposed to be here. Unlike you." He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

She put her purse on the kitchen table.

"Baby, what are you talking about?"

"Don't talk to me like that."

"What's going on? Something happened?" She looked at him questioningly.

"Don't pretend to be worried."

"But I–"

"Just shut up and get out of my house."

"This is our home." She interjected.

"You don't live here and you won't live here."

"Don't you love me? Satoru, we're a couple–."

"So maybe it's time to end it, don't you think?"

"Wha–" she moaned.

You've heard everything that's going on there.

"You're a total bitch who thinks she can take advantage of me and I won't know it. You think you can play with me? Don't make me laugh!"

She walked over to him and placed her hand on his cheek.

He moved away.

He only knew one thing.

That he shouldn't hit her.

Because then she'll make him an even worse monster than she is.

"Get out of my house and don't come back. These are my last words." He growled pointing to the front door.

"Satoru, I think you had a bad day at work. I'll come another time, okay?"

"No! Get the fuck out of my house and don't come back! I'm sick of how much you interfere in my life. Doesn't suit you? get the fuck out. You will not use me for your image. And I won't be with a bitch like you. Also, how's your next boyfriend?"

"You have a fever?"

"Just leave."

she snorted.

"Fine... I'll see you when you're feeling better..." She turned around and started adjusting her high heels. "Servant! My coat!"

Recently, Gojo asked you for one thing...

Don't listen to this person...

"What a bitch! How can you have a maid like that?! She doesn't even come when I call her! I don't want you to have a maid like that! It's not worth anything! How can you still pay her?!"

Her words hurt you.

This happened every time they argued.

She must have said something bad about you. She always put you down.

Is it because you're a maid?

After all, Gojo doesn't treat you like she does...

You really wonder how much longer this poor man will have to deal with her.

He frowned as he walked towards the door behind which you were standing.

"(y/n)." he called softly before entering.

He looked sadly at the fact that you were standing with your coat in your hands in front of the clothes dryer. One hand rubbed your eyes.

I'm sure you must have been sad to see her push you around so much.

"(y/n), give it to me." he said walking closer to you.

He gripped the clothes roughly, crumpling it.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to dry it." you said quickly.

"It's okay." He said smiling slightly at you.

He put his hand on your head.

"I'm going to get rid of that bitch. Don't worry."

You only left the laundry room after you heard the front door slam.

He sighed resignedly.

Even with curses he didn't have the same problem as with her...

What a life with this woman...

If she knew what he did every day, she would run away from him as soon as possible.

If she knew about all the "creatures" he had killed.

After all, his job is to kill curses and ghosts. And also curse users. And some curses can have feelings.

Besides, even something trying to kill him has more feelings than she does.

"Toxic bitch..." he spat out.

He really didn't want her to come here anymore. She just ruins the rest of his day.

Besides, their relationship was destroyed about three weeks ago.

And she still thinks they're fine.

And he constantly comes or invites him somewhere. Even if she's not welcome here.

He honestly told her that he was breaking up with her.

And she came back the next day, trying to convince him that nothing had happened.

He was just a boy with money and good looks to her. Nothing else mattered to her.

And he wasn't as spoiled as she was.

He has heard many times how her friends envy her such a handsome boy. So tall.

And that he has so much money.

He was walking benefits to her.

And he noticed it the moment she showed her true nature.

Sweet and innocent at first.

Then a toxic whore trying to make him crazy.

Plus, she was also taking it out on you. Punishing you for doing your job perfectly.

You were supposed to work for him, not her.

you work for him. Not for her.

So you don't have to listen to her. Especially now that she's nothing to him.

You stood behind him, staring at the back of his head.

His shoulders slumped as he sighed heavily.

He turned to look at you.

"I don't know how many more times I have to tell her we're not together." He laughed and took a few steps closer to you. "I hate fake people."

You looked at him questioningly.

He placed his hands on your shoulders.

"It's good that I can count on you. You're not fake."

You looked at him with brighter eyes.

He was so observant of people.

He even recognized fake love.

While he tries to take care of her and she wants to use him.

"I hope you don't take what she says personally."

"... It's fine... I know she wants to make my life miserable..." you replied with a very small smile.

It was sad that you always have to listen to them argue. And also some screams will always go at you.

"You were right," he suddenly said with his trademark smile. "I should look for someone who will accept me. Even though this sentence at the very beginning seemed so sad to me, now I see that it is sooo true~."

He didn't know if he should keep looking or stop. After all, he could live as he had before. Without someone like that.

And you...

You accept it, don't you?

Scratching the back of his neck slightly, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

You looked at him with a slight blush.

He met you two years ago, and he never once saw you change.

You are still the same.

You don't want money because you reject raises.

You live your life according to your morals.

Not like Chloe.

You're not like her.

You are sweet and caring. Nice and soft. You are always there to help him or to do something. You are doing what you are supposed to do.

Bypassing what you would have to do for you.

Being in his house, you live work.

And he knew your house was in a small block and also that you lived alone.

This job for him is your way of earning a living because you only work for him.

He could pay you even more. For being with him and helping him stay mentally healthy.

Because if you hadn't been there when they were arguing, he would have done something other than scream.

But having you there stops him.

And he doesn't regret what he chose.

He knew that keeping you working for Him no longer would be a bad choice.

It was the perfect choice.

For a man like him. For someone who is considered an anomaly and a monster among sorcerers. Someone who cannot be killed. Someone you can't get rid of.

Someone who cannot be deceived and taken advantage of. Because he is smarter and stronger.

No ideals. However, he needed something to distract him from his work.

Since death, which he sees almost every day.

Especially as a special grade sorcerer.

You didn't know he was a sorcerer, and you didn't need to know.

You might think he's kinky because he has blindfolds.

But even the fact that you sometimes thought he was a weirdo was something that felt good to him.

He needed peace. The warmth of the house. A soft feeling. He needed support and love.

Something to distract him from the constant killing.

Something nice.

Seeing your face has become a daily routine for him.

And when you're gone, he worries.

You care for him. You give him what he needs.

Nice feeling.

In return, he pays you to work in his house.

Even though you give him that feeling of your own free will.

"Dinner time is approaching. Would you like something special to eat?" You asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

It was weird when he was standing in front of you staring at your face with his hand on the back of your neck. And he never took his eyes off you once.

You weren't even sure if he blinked.

It was a moment of longer seconds.

But he's never looked at you like that.

It was a look he didn't look at Chloe. As if he was thinking hard about something.

He won't fire you, will he?

You tried to break the atmosphere by asking him about dinner.

You cook for him often, so you know his culinary tastes.

He will eat practically anything.

But you don't serve him alcohol because he doesn't like it.

Even though he always has a few bottles of sweet wine in the pantry, he never drinks it.

This is where it lies if guests come to visit him.

And his guests are most often his students, who are minors.

So they drink tea, coffee, water or juice.

The wine will probably stay there for a long time.

The only thing he'll take with the alcohol is cake. But there is one condition - it cannot be felt strongly. Because according to Him, the bitter, pungent taste spoils the sweetness.

So it's simple. You bake him cakes that have nothing to do with alcohol. Same with other food.

You are not a professional cook, but by using recipes from the Internet you manage to cook something.

Let him tell you anything now...

Just to distract you from the way he looks at you.

You feel guilty about his arguments with his girlfriend.

No. She is his ex-girlfriend.

He broke up with her over the phone because she kept running away from the subject.

But she still thinks they are together.

He does not want to. So he shows it straight to her.

Oh god... You really don't want you to be the reason they broke up.

What finally happens is that he takes your side and they argue...

Always been like that.

Every time she insulted you, he took your side.

You must repay him somehow.

"...Will you make an onigiri for me?" He asked suddenly.

Now you don't know if he was thinking about this or something else...

"Of course. Would you like something right inside?" you asked, adjusting your apron.

"... I'm relying on you." He said with a smile, winking at you.

Then he adjusted his glasses on his nose.

You only know one thing about these glasses...

That he has really sensitive eyesight and apparently his eyes hurt when they are not covered.

you understand it. Someone has sensitive hearing, smell. He has a sensitive eye.

And those glasses suit him too.

"I'll take a bath and come. oh! Could you make a little more and pack for me for work tomorrow?"

"Yes." you answered.

"I have one student who loves onigiri. I'd like to give them some too." He said with a smile.

How can someone as caring as him not find someone good?

"You have a wet apron on." He said as his smile faded slightly. He pointed to the white fabric on your body.

"Oh, that's nothing. I'm going to cook anyway." You waved your hand slightly. "Prepare a bath for you, Gojo-san?"

"I'll take a quick shower and be back." He said as he started to walk away.

This man deserves more than he gets from life...

He has no family, many of his friends are gone...

Others, despite being his friends, are also sometimes annoyed.

Why does a nice man like him only get so much?

He's rich, but you don't think he cares about his wealth.

He is content with the simplest things. Homemade food, little things. Even if he likes some expensive clothes.

The people he dated always had something of the artifice.

The women he dated.

He didn't have much emotion to show...

And he didn't want to open up to anyone.

Then why does his mood change so much when he talks to you?

                            "I'm stupid." He laughed from sitting on the floor of the large shower, a smile on his lips as his eyes were closed.

Feeling the warm water run through his hair and over his skin.

"To you, I'm probably a goddamn playboy who fucks everything I like..."

Even though he said it out loud with a smile and a soft chuckle, there was a little pain in his voice.

Because it was true.

He didn't trust people. He didn't get into relationships. He simply provided an outlet for his needs.

But he also needs trust...

Someone will trust him, but he will not completely trust anyone.

You spend your days at his house and you're not a lying person. You only lie about what's wrong with you.

It's up to you to work for him.

He trusted you.

You will probably never share his feelings because you know him. You know what kind of man he is. You know what he really is. And he's probably not your ideal man.

Money is important in life...

People pay to receive affection...

So maybe he could also pay you to give him some affection?

He wanted home warmth, security and love.

Pleasant moments. Not only sexual pleasure. He wanted pleasant moments spent with a smile on his face.

Maybe if he paid you more and asked for even a fake relationship, maybe you'd agree?

He's happy to come home from work when he knows you're there, waiting for him with lunch.

With the relaxing sight of your smile.

It's easy to say you're friends.

But he would like you to be at his house all the time. When he wanted a feeling of warmth.

He was able to provide you with everything you need.

Everyone would ever give in to money... He wanted you to do it too, and maybe you'd accept money from him to pretend you love him...

There's also a chance you won't agree.

His cunning made his shower last even longer.

He didn't know there was a scene he should know about.

"Chloe-san? I didn't think you'd come back—" You said as the girl pushed the door open to go inside.

Her boots and coat were dripping with water and mud from the rain outside.

"Shut up. Where is Satoru?" She cut you off and gave you the coat again to hang it up.

"Takes a bath." you answered normally.

"No difference. What are you doing for dinner?" She replied indifferently, taking a seat at the table and pulling out her phone.

"Gojo-san asked for onigiri."

"That's disgusting... I want a fresh Parisian roll." she growled.

"Gojo-san wants an onigiri." You replied directly.

"Tch... I really don't understand why he keeps you here if you can't follow simple instructions! He's probably paying you to be his fuckhole. I can't believe he fell so low...

Does she really think you're here as a prostitute?

"I'm doing what Gojo-san asked me to do. Since he asked me to cook it, I'll do it."

"Fine! Make me some jasmine tea!"

You sighed and turned on the electric kettle, poured dried jasmine into the jug, then poured boiling water over it to make it brew.

You poured the tea into the cup you handed her.

She immediately took it into her mouth, suddenly spitting it out at you.

"You're stupid?! It's too hot!" She said standing up.

She put her fingers to her lips.

"It's tea-"

"Shut up! You can't even do that right! Who sane gives hot tea to drink!"

You gave her freshly brewed tea... I wonder why it was hot.

Maybe because you brewed it freshly.

It's not your fault she wanted to drink it right away.

Neither the Gojo nor you drink anything warm immediately after brewing, and you wait until it cools down.

And if she wants the tea to be at the right temperature right away, she demands the impossible.

"I don't want it. Take it!"

She took the plate with the cup in her hand, and instead of giving it to you gently, she handed it to you quickly and let go, causing the tea to spill over your hands.

Reflexively, to avoid more burns, you dropped it through your sore fingers, and the drink spilled onto your apron and your sleeves. Caused a brief sting, but the clothes protected your skin. Luckily it wasn't boiling water, it was hot water.

It wasn't that hot because it had cooled down a bit in the jug. But that doesn't change the fact that your hands are burning.

The cup fell to the floor shattering.

You held your red hands, and you knew she was about to scream.

But before she could, you heard a voice.

"What's going on here?"

"Satoru! Your maid gave me too hot tea! And she even dropped a cup!" She shouted pointing at you.

"It's normal for the tea to be hot at first. And I also know that what you say is not entirely true. Besides, you weren't supposed to come back here." He said, adjusting the towel around his neck.

He looked at you and your little tears in your eyes. The skin after the burn hurts.

He walked over to you and looked at your wet sleeves and apron.

He gently grabbed your reddened hands, and placing his hand on your back, he gently pulled you towards the kitchen which was right next to you, as she sat at the island kitchen table, and he turned on the cool water, gently sliding your hands under the stream.

He stood next to you, holding your smaller hands on top of his, and watched the pain in your face slowly disappear. Just like redness on the skin.

It's lucky that tea didn't hurt you enough to cause severe burns.

"She's so clumsy. You should cut her salary for that."

"I should throw you out of here now."

"What?"

"You weren't supposed to come back here."

"I came to tell you that we're not going to my cousin's party in two. I ordered us matching outfits. The package will arrive here tomorrow. When you have it, let me know." She said standing next to the chair. "Don't deal with her. The floor is dirty. Let her clean it up."

"Nobody's going to listen to you." He told her and turned off the water. "Besides, we broke up two weeks ago."

"I don't accept breaking up over the phone. It's like it doesn't exist." She looked at her nails.

He chuckled, drying your hands.

"Except for the past two weeks, I've been telling you the same thing every time we see each other. I'm not your boyfriend and I regret that I ever was."

"You can't break up with me."

"I can't. Because I already did."

"Without me you have nothing. My friends are important people."

"your friends are. And you are nobody. Do you seriously think I have nothing? Look around." He chuckled sarcastically.

A Gojo saying such things while laughing is ghastly.

"I don't want to see you in my house any longer. I don't want to see your fake face one more time. We understand each other?"

"You're so–!" She started to speak but he interrupted her.

"There's a lot you don't know about me. Get out of here before you find out something you shouldn't know."

His aura was intimidating.

Even you felt a chill hit when he said that.

Some strange energy hit you.

you shivered.

"You know what... Fuck this bitch as long as you want! I do not care! There are so many other better men than you in the world!"

"You finally understood that we're not a couple! Congratulations!" He put his hand over his eyes, laughing like a madman.

Then, seeing his behavior, she left.

He was glad he would never see her again.

"Gojo-san..." you said and looked at him.

His hand was still holding yours.

He looked at you with warm eyes and his crazy smile changed to a gentle one.

"Call me Satoru. Like I told you before."

"I'm just your maid. I-"

"You're closer to me than that fucking bitch was. And you talk to me like we're strangers."

"Sorry..."

"You have nothing to apologize for." he said laying his head on yours. Gently and comfortingly hugging you.

"Dinner will be delayed. And I broke a cup."

"I know it's her fault. Don't worry."

"But-."

He interrupted you.

"Go to my dressing room and get some clean clothes, okay?"

"I'll be home soon anyway. I'll cook you dinner and be back–."

"Nope..." he said firmly.

"I should take care of you, so let me take care of you. Why don't you stay here today?"

"I'm not sure..."

"I'll pay extra for night work."

"I have nothing to do. Unless you want me to do something else. Besides, I don't want any more money. You're paying me too much for a few hours a day anyway."

"Is that important?" he asked.

You thought he was ignoring you, but he was clearly listening to what you were saying.

You take your job seriously and honestly...

Your deal was different than what he wanted to do now.

"So stay as my guest. Take clothes from my wardrobe and feel at home. Because this is your second home, isn't it?"

You nodded.

After all, he was right.

You'll wash his clothes later and everything will be as before.

You went to his room.

He meanwhile grabbed a broom and picked up the broken glass from the floor.

When you came back, you were wearing his gray T-shirt that he wore when he was at home.

Your apron was dirty and you had to start cooking. So you took a T-shirt that you know isn't new.

What would happen if you ruined his expensive T-shirt?

He watched you go to the kitchen.

He saw you weren't wearing new pants.

You told him your pants weren't dirty.

His phone rang and he told you right away it was from his job.

You started making the onigiri the way he wanted.

You had some more work ahead of you because he wanted to take some for the students.

That's why you prepared more rice and other ingredients.

He didn't come back to the kitchen after someone called, and you're guessing he's still talking. Someone calls him often.

But you did your job anyway.

You prepared everything as it was supposed to be, packing the excess into boxes.

You left some for him and waited for him to come back.

According to what you had, you ate with him. So you took two onigiri while eating this.

He still hasn't come back.

It was getting late...

You started washing the dishes you used to prepare the food.

As you were rinsing your plate, very suddenly you felt and saw his hands wrap around your waist.

A common thing when he wanted to tease you or scare you.

He appeared in front of you without a sound.

"How are your hands?" he asked as he watched you wipe the plate and set it aside.

"I'm fine. It's not hurt." you replied while continuing your work.

He was a man of no barriers and often invaded your private space when you became friends.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." You smiled. It's nice that he cares about you. "The onigiri for you for dinner are in the fridge. I didn't know when you were coming to eat."

"And you?"

"I already ate. I wanted to wait for you, but you didn't come. So substantial. I made about 20 extra."

"Thanks."

He was kind of quiet now... It was a different behavior than usual.

He didn't show you his face.

"Is everything OK?" you asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah..."

You felt something was wrong.

He wasn't sad about what happened. For those three weeks they often quarreled when she suddenly came when he didn't want to see her.

Now it was different.

Maybe he was sorry that she hurt you?

So yes, hot tea on the skin is definitely painful. But not that much.

It was quiet, and he suddenly reached for the faucet, turning off the water as you rinsed the next plate.

You turned your head to the side, looking at the side of his face.

He wasn't smiling. Which only showed that he didn't do it for fun.

"I was looking for someone sweet and nice because I'm used to the way you treat me." He said suddenly.

"Huh?" You groaned as you felt the heat on your cheeks and in your chest.

"I forgot that I don't need to look for someone like this. Because I can have a person close to me who is a perfect match for these characteristics. You are sweet and kind. And it's because of you that I want to feel it. I want to know that there is someone like that with me. Sweet and nice. Why should I look when the perfect person is already next to me?

"I–" you blushed.

"I'll pay you. Double salary. Triple. I'll pay you whatever you want."

You widened your eyes. You didn't know what to say at all.

"I'll give you what you want. For you to be with me as you are now, but in a relationship."

Love can't be bought...

He knew about it.

But he also knew he could pay you to be with him. As it has been for two years.

He paid you because that's how you worked.

It won't be a real relationship, but he'll know then that he's coming back to the warmth of home. To someone who will be waiting for him there.

Even if you don't fall in love with him that way.

Love cannot be bought.

But you can buy fake love.

You may not love him, but he wants you to at least pretend to love him.

That you at least treat him as if you were in love with him.

So he could live the lie he arranged to find what he was looking for.

Since there is no one who can love him for who he is, he can at least make someone pretend to love him.

It was hard for him to say it before, but he fell in love with you.

But he can't force you to love him.

That's why he wanted the person he loved to at least pretend to love him. It would be better than living in a relationship that would never work out.

"... Satoru, I..."

"I'll pay you to be with me..."

Everyone needs money.

You too.

But you don't want to accept that kind of money from him...

Not like this...

You heard the desperation in his voice.

You could never accept such an offer...

Not so...

You don't want to make money off of him by giving him a fake relationship...

You don't want to give him a fake relationship for making him pay you a lot...

You can't do this to him...

He is someone who was close to you... But you didn't want it that way.

"...I can't...I can't like this..."

His grip on your waist lessened.

"I'm sorry..." he said. "I'm sorry I even suggested it... I could have guessed you'd say no... You're not the kind of person who would do anything for money..."

He suddenly turned you to him, and you saw his sad face.

Tears welled up in your eyes just seeing him.

But he suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, placing you on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

"At least let me be with you as much as I want. For this one moment..."

Before you could react, his lips were pressed against yours.

He expected you to push him away. That you hit him.

But you stay still.

Without moving.

You let him kiss you.

And as he pulled away, he saw tears welling up in your eyes.

"Oh no... I'm sorry... It was so sudden... Please don't cry, I don't want you to cry. It's my fault... I didn't mean to impose anything on you." He said quickly and started wiping away your peacefully flowing tears.

With his hands on your cheeks, he thought he was the worst person...

He shouldn't have done that...

"Forget I did that... that I said that..."

"...No..." You placed your hands over his, with a soft whisper. "I won't forget what you did..."

"I..." he began, but didn't say anything until his next words came out. So a long while later. "I don't know what love is... I never knew. But I'd like to tell you that I love you... Because that's probably what I feel for you..."

Her eyes widened at what he said. He tightened his fingers on his hands and your lips turned into a slight smile.

But still a crying smile.

"(y/n)..."

"I never expected to hear those words from you..."

"I know I suck... I know my character is fucking not what you to like... But don't let me live in suspense. Just honestly tell me that you don't want me around."

He was used to not having anyone close to him.

He probably also experienced it when someone told him that they did not love him.

He's already suffered a loss. So he's probably going to be heartbroken now too.

"Just tell me and I'll try to make everything back to how it used to be..." He rested his forehead against yours.

"Why can't you just shut up..." You cried.

You grabbed his neck holding him and put your mouth on his.

He opened your mouth with his, feeling the sign that you let him.

And he connected your lips more demandingly than gently.

He pulled away, keeping his tongue slightly sticking out, watching your tongues connect with a thin string of saliva.

You lowered your head, hiding your red face.

"To means..." he said.

You had your hands on his shoulders.

"...Don't ask me if I'll be with you for money no more! If I can do it for free...!"

His eyes lit up when he heard that.

And then he moved closer to you, hugging you.

A strange weight fell from his chest.

And let you cry your tears on his shoulder.

You didn't know when, but you found yourself in his bedroom.

And he was there to lie down gently on the bed.

And pin you to the mattress with my hands next to your head. Still keeping your thighs on his hips like when you were sitting on the kitchen counter.

He opened your mouth with his thumb, using his tongue to play with yours.

His other hand reached for your stomach, pulling the hem of his shirt up against your body.

"Can I?"

It was the first time he could say he had sex.

Before, he was just fucking.

Today it was different.

The way he gently held your body as his hips hit yours as he stood behind you.

Your hands on the bed so you don't fall.

Your hand sometimes grabs the hand that held your waist before he wrapped his forearm around you.

He then held you upright, letting your hand rest on his hand on your waist and the other placed on his hip as he continued to move his hips like that.

Quickly but gently.

Making you crumble beneath him as his tip digs into your cervix.

You've never seen him naked in such an exposed way.

You never touched him the way you touch him now.

You've never felt the way his big cock straightens your insides, carving his shape into you.

You're supposed to wrap it perfectly, because you'll be doing it more often.

In your house. So here.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against the bed. You looked down and saw moisture running down your thighs. The combination of your juices with his saliva when he made you orgasm for the first time.

He was experienced. You noticed it. But he didn't get tired of the soft way you moaned and shivered under him. Letting him use your body.

He wanted you to do that for him endlessly.

You never knew your employer had such a big dick.

You couldn't even think about the fact that he had other women in bed before you.

But none of them were with him like you are.

That day you were fired from your job.

At your own request.

Because you wouldn't be able to take money from him since what you're doing is for both of you.

Just like what you're doing now.

Your Clit was swollen as he reached out to rub you.

Adding a little more to the moans.

His bangs were combed to one side as his hair was sticky with sweat.

He didn't want to end it quickly.

He wanted to enjoy your first time together as long as he could.

So he took his time.

He was firm in pounding your hips, but he wasn't doing it to please him.

He always wanted to please him, and by the way the partner he had then.

And now, he wanted to give you pleasure. So he pushed with his hips to hit those points that make you moan the loudest.

He pressed his hips against you to see how well you held him and tightened inside.

To move his cock inside you again later.

To also pull it out and then put it back inside you, watching your pussy expand as much to take it in.

But you took it so well.

Every part of your body was perfectly made to fit his body.

Any mark on your skin, any blemish, it didn't matter. Because your whole body suited him.

Something that doesn't lie. It's not fake. It's not artificial...

It is not possible to buy with money.

Especially when you fell on the bed with your ass up while his cock was still embedded in you. You fell as he momentarily let go of you to shove his length into you as he slid out.

Teasing your sensitive points and clitoris, you clenched on him as you received an orgasm that took the strength from your legs. And he didn't catch you before you lay on the bed, just sticking your ass out to him. Because you felt the constant pleasure coming from his thick length inside you.

He wanted more.

He wanted to know you were his.

Right now and you will.

Pulling his cock slowly out of your thirsty hole, he gently lifted you up, positioning your body on your back, head below the pillows.

He placed your hips on his thighs, slapping the tip against your sensitive clit several times.

Before he pushed himself into you, reaching a new low. Your calves on his biceps as he pushed at a fast pace.

You looked at him with hazy eyes. Sensitive.

But you didn't tell him to stop.

You didn't want him to stop. Not when it's so good...

He kissed you almost all the time. His thrusts became sloppy.

His hands around you as he thrusts into you like there's no end to it.

As he made low grunts into your mouth, and low moans.

Filling your mouth with it the same way it filled your pussy.

He felt warm. Inside and outside.

He didn't want to give away the wonderful feeling of warmth you gave him and you are giving him even more now.

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part fifteen

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen |

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues (domestic violence between parents), fluff, mentions of underage drinking

word count - 900+?

NOT PROOFREAD

-

living with an emotionally unavailable parent is soul crushing at times. yes i can say i have two parents who did love each other at one point but it came to an end. to my knowledge no one knows when my dad became a different person. always drinking, going from bar to bar every night, never affectionate to me or my mom, emotionally and apparently physically abusive.

he was never the parent to help you with homework at the dinner table, although if he did i left that table in tears, clutching my book and running up the stairs.

i always had a feeling he did that to my mom but i never saw it so i chose to block out those thoughts, until i saw the proof right in front of me.

there was many moments in which i thought they would eventually split up and i could just live happily with my mom but for some reason it never happened. reasons in which at this point im honestly scared to find out. seeing your parents relationship crash and never having a true representation of what love is can fuck with you.

which brings me to now.

silently crying in chris’ bathroom at 7am after a night out in which i drunkenly confessed to him that i loved him. i thought i did, but did i actually know what that meant? i sure felt it when i was with him.

home.

he felt like home. he felt like safety. he felt like comfort. he felt like when my world was crashing he could come with a toolbox and fix it within seconds.

sure thats what you would want out of your significant other, but i dont know what love truly is.

i sat on the toilet with the lid down with my face buried into my hands and tears that never seemed like they would stop. struggling to breathe for air as i my mind just raced with thoughts. my parents, chris, anna, everything.

knock, knock

fuck. me.

i get up and wipe my face, hand on the door nob slowly twisting it. i crack to door open and im greeted with the all to familiar blue eyes that i seemed to drown in every time i looked into them. his face saddens as i open the door wider and his arms come over my shoulders. “what wrong?” chris whispers as i wept into his chest. i dont respond and just shake my head against him. he pulls away and puts one hand on the side of my face and the other one is placing my hair behind my ear, “theres nothing you cant tell me y/n, why are you crying”

“i cant-“ i croak, dropping my head down and putting my hands up to face. “yes you can, what happened?” he sighs as he pets the back of my head. “i told you i loved you” i sniffle

“what?”

“i- i told you i loved you.” i say more sternly this time.

“why is that a reason to cry kid?” he whisperers wiping my tears. “chris what do i know about love, nothing. i was shown a fucked up version of an abusive relationship my entire life. thats no way to learn what love is, i dont know what it truly feels like. m- my dad fucked me over for my entire life by being who he is, i dont know if i can ever fix that part inside of me.” i let out a sob.

“well y/n i know what love is, i am standing with it right now” he begins, “this, this right here is love,” he points between us, “them, that is love” he points at the hallway meaning his brothers. “this” he kisses me, “that is love.”

i blink at him as he talks, just in awe of his way with words. “there is never a day that i dont worry about you, if your ok, if you want to stop this fake relationship, if you even give a shit about me.” he half chuckles, “i was shown love not just by my parents but by you.” he breathes.

“you might not exactly know if your in love with me but i sure as hell am in love with you.”

jaw, on the fucking floor.

“you what?” i sniffle. “i fucking love you”

i lean up grabbing either side of his face and pull him in to a kiss. the salt of tears and chris hitting my tongue and i continue to cry into the kiss as tears flow out of my closed eyes.

“i love you too.” i pull away and he leans in again.

home, thats exactly what this felt like. i had never felt safer than in this moment. maybe i didnt know what real love was, but i knew i felt it when i was with him. i felt it for months and it was right in front of me but i always believed it was too good to be true.

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @sturnsjtop @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturnssmuts @emlovesthesturniolos

a/n: love you all<333

[minhosbxtch]

Shadows and Silence

Azriel x reader

Yall voted Azriel so here we go

Warnings: violence, mentions of SA, mentions of physical abuse, language

It'd been 400 years since you last spoke. 400 years since a single word had been uttered from your mouth. 400 years since your mother had been executed. 400 years since your tongue had been cut off.

Beron, being the dick that he was, had decided your mother was desirable and he wanted her. And Beron being the dick that he was took her.

Fast forward 9 months and you were born. Your mother, disgusted for how she came to be pregnant pretty much ignored you. Until you reached the age of 6.

On your sixth birthday your mother decided that enough was enough. She started to groom you into the perfect wife. To be pretty, proper, and polite. She also introduced you to the court, where people came to notice your unusual likeness to Beron.

Beron who also heard these rumors faintly remembered what he'd done to your mother, so it was possible you might be his.

So one day when you were roughly 14 he brought you and your mother to have dinner with him. Your mother, thinking he might marry you off to his oldest son, Eris, who she knew was your half-brother, but the power she would gain from that? The reputation?

So she went and dragged you with her.

Turns out it was not that at all.

No not in the slightest. Once you both had arrived, guards had instantly seized you both. Killing your mother almost immediately, Beron, instead of killing you, had cut your tongue out so you could not tell. He wasn't aware you could write though. But it didn't matter. What would being related to him change?

Eris was there though. He knew everything. What Beron did to your mother and that you were his half-sister. He hid behind a column as Beron and the guards left you crying and bleeding out on the clean, polished floors.

After a minute you passed out from the blood loss and that's when Eris made his move. He knew you would most certainly lash out or hurt yourself more if he approached you like this, so he had waited until you were unaware.

Picking you up and gently examining you're mouth he saw that one of the soldiers perhaps took pity on you and cauterized your tongue.

So he took you to the only place he could, his mother's.

His mother, had instantly sent for healers as he explained what he knew. He told her that she had no other family and no place to go. His mother pursed her lips before coming to the conclusion that the only solution was to make her a personal maid. That way she could keep her close and mostly protected from Beron.

All of this she had told you after you had woke up, a day later.

She had become a true mother in your eyes. And to her, you were the daughter she never had. You had also been close with Eris. Even though you two were only half-siblings you were both closer than with any other sibling, perhaps Lucien was a close second though.

Usually the Lady of Autumn gave you the day off today so you could relax and try to forget what happened today, despite your protests. But today there was an important meeting including all of the High Lords. She wanted to take you along since she was Eris' support, she wanted you to be her support.

She gave you an orangey-red long sleeve gown to wear. You would play no role. All you had to do was stand behind your Lady and say nothing.

So you did.

You paid no attention to what was currently going on in the room, choosing to admire the beautiful architecture of the Day Court palace.

Suddenly the talking in the room ceased and all eyes turned to you. Your eyes met those of amber sitting across from from you, studying, calculating.

"She's a mute," Beron sneered, dragging your attention to him, "good for nothing except her silence."

High Lord Rhysand tilted his head, eyes narrowing and smirking at you, "She is of Night Court descent."

"No she's Autumn through and through," said the High Lord of Autumn. "She might be unworthy scum, but not that much."

You looked at the ground before feeling a gentle caress in your mind, causing your head to snap up meeting the High Lord of Night's gaze yet again.

Is he telling the truth? Rhysand spoke in her mind.

I- I don't know. My mother's been dead for over 400 years. She might've been she didn't look like she was from Autumn. You thought replying to his question.

At a slight tilt of his head you nodded and gave your permission for him to search your memories.

It was a strange sensation, him rifling through your memories. He saw each and last one of them. From that one night, taking care of the Lady after a nasty argument with Beron, and times where Eris was just as vulnerable as you were.

His presence jolted as he saw your mother. A flash of recognition.

You know her? You thought in surprise.

Yes. I do know her. His voice was shaky, almost horrified.

But you didn't care. You wanted answers. Answers you waited 400 years for.

So? Can you tell me about her? Anything? You pleaded. You didn't care what you just needed something, anything, any scrap of information. To prove that at least one of your parents were even slightly a good person.

The High Lord hesitated but relented, sensing her thoughts. She... Your mother's name is Mithrianyus Arwel. She was a resident of Hewn City and she... if Keir had a women that he'd trust to be his right-hand, it would have been her. She was incredibly brutal and had an old view of how young females should be treated, that their happiness did not matter. She thought the only use for them was to gain political power.

While my sister and mother were alive, she took it upon herself to try to corrupt her, but my father decided enough was enough. He'd been looking for a good excuse to kick her out. She never liked my mother. Thought she was above her. That my mother was Illyrian scum. Not worthy of even looking at the High Lord, much less his mate.

At his words your heart sank. Even as you had prepared yourself for the worst, it still hurt. You had allowed a kernel of hope to blossom in your chest, but before it could unfurl it had been squashed.

You felt the High Lord leave your mind as he suddenly announced to the room, "Y/N's mother hailed from the Night Court and unless her father would like to claim her then she belongs in the Night Court," he said with a pointed glance at Beron.

No words were spoken until Rhysand beckoned you over to his side. As you rose Beron suddenly decided to speak up. Your heart skipped a beat thinking he would claim you but instead he said, "Once you realize all she's good for is keeping her mouth shut and whoring around then you'll still have to keep her."

You just kept your head down and kept walking, ignoring the stares you could feel prickling against your skin. You stopped when a loud snarl sounded in front of her, from the Night Court's area.

You looked up to see the same amber-eyed male snarling at Beron, eyes blazing. Your eyes widened as black tendrils snaked around his form. Other then his eyes, you hadn't really looked at him, thinking he would be offended that such scum like you was even looking your way.

But now that you're paying attention, you noticed he is easily the most handsome Fae you had ever seen, including everyone in the room. His eyes were like drops of honey which had quickly hardened as his anger sparked. He was muscular but slim and his face- Mother his goddamn pretty face. He was darkly handsome, ethereal even. Like an angel of death. His leathery wings only added to the factor, in sharp contrast to his tan, muscular skin.

His eyes met yours again and lightened, despite his face not softening, his eyes welcomed you. Like a unknown familiarness.

As you reached their side High Lord Rhysand beckoned you to a new chair that wasn't there earlier, next to a different male.

He shared similar characters, but was broader and more muscular. He also had soft eyes. Not pitying, you hated the look of pity people gave you. Taking you off guard, he gave you a broad welcoming smile. You were shocked but gave a small, uncomfortable smile back.

Instead of looking up and accidently meeting Beron's eyes, you looked down and fiddled at your hands. Anything to not seem noticeable.

When the kind male next to you gave your shoulder you finally looked up to see the Autumn Court gone.

At your sigh of relief he let out a quiet chuckle and said, "Yeah I never liked them either. I'm Cassian", nodding to you.

You motioned to Cassian and he seemed to get the message.

"Yes. I know you can't talk, but I figured I'd introduce myself to you so you had at least one friendly face that you knew," he said with a large smile.

Did he always smile this much?

You looked around the Night Court section, scanning, seeing if you recognized anyone else when you met eyes with that male for the third time.

He didn't say anything but gave you a nod and a slight smile.

Cassian saw your roam around his court.

He leant down next to your ear so only you could hear and said, "The one your currently staring at is Azriel. Hey, there's no problem staring at him. I find myself doing that all the time. What? Hey he's hot!" Cassian protested as you elbowed him in the side.

At your look he cleared his throat and continued, "Anyway you already know Rhys, that's Mor and that's Feyre as you probably know. There's gonna be more but I'll introduce you to them when we get back."

Back where? You didn't care.

You decided then that you liked Cassian.

Very much.

-'~{~}~'-

The meeting hadn't gone on for much longer. After Beron left a lot of the tension had vanished.

Well that was until Tamlin showed up, made a shit load of dirty comments about Feyre, given you a look that had you shrinking in on yourself and Cassian and Azriel bristling.

With nobody coming to the High Lady's defense you wished you could speak. You didn't even know her but Mother he needed to chill.

After another comment finally Azriel said, his voice dangerous, "Be careful how you speak about my High Lady."

Holy Mother. As if he wasn't sexy enough.

Cassian nudged you and whispered in your ear, "You're gawking." He quickly snapped his head around to act like it never happened. As you glared harshly at the side of his face you could swear you could see the slight outline of a smile on his face, as if he was trying not to laugh.

After Tamlin's little tantrum Rhysand decided he was done and it was time to go.

To go back to wherever Cassian explained they had to winnow and then left for Mor to take him.

She scowled.

He left her.

Maybe she didn't like Cassian as much as she thought.

You didn't know what to do so you just awkwardly stood there until Azriel approached you.

He smiled softly and said, "Would you like me to take you? Mor is taking Cassian because he can't winnow."

You scrunched your brows in confusion. How could Azriel winnow but not Cassian?

At your confused look he cleared his throat at said, "I can't winnow but I can do something similar. I can use my shadows to transfer me places. If it makes you uncomfortable I can let them know and you could switch?" Azriel offered.

You shook your head. You were slightly nervous but didn't want to be a burden and besides, Azriel seemed kind and like he didn't mean harm, at least currently.

He slowly extended a scarred hand out for you to grab, a stray shadow circled his wrist, also curling towards you as if it couldn't help it. You hesitantly reached for it.

His hand was warm, but not unpleasant. Here and there you could feel cool brushes of the shadows. You could feel the ridges of his scars, but they didn't make you uncomfortable. You had some just like that from Beron.

"Ready?" Azriel spoke quietly. He seemed like a quiet person. It was nice. He was quiet but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

You nodded and gasped as shadows wrapped around you and Azriel. Turning your head towards him you saw he had a smile on his face at your awe.

In a blink your vision was completely swallowed by the black and your only tether was Azriel's hand which you squeezed tightly as if he was your lifeline.

Suddenly your vision cleared and you were standing on a gorgeous balcony that overlooked a sprawling city next to a river below.

Barely seconds later, Feyre, Mor, Rhysand, and Cassian was also standing right in front of you.

You knew you were still holding Azriel's hand but you didn't want to let go. He seemed to sense as much and thankfully, also didn't let go even as Cassian came over smirking at their conjoined hands.

Azriel quickly followed Feyre into the house, away from Cassian so you did too, not wanting to hear his teasing or let Azriel go.

Feyre lead the tour which started in the living rooms, kitchen, eating areas, and finally the bedrooms.

The entire time Azriel's hand was in your grasp. Occasionally, he would squeeze your hand, as if checking in. Each time your heart skipped a beat as you squeezed back. At first you were worried you were bothering him, that he had more important things to do but as you went through the tour he seemed content, even stopping Feyre to tell you something she left out.

At the very end Feyre led you up the stairs to a long hallway, pointing out everyone's bedrooms as she went.

She stopped at the second-to-last door on the left and motioned to the door.

"Here's where you'll be staying. All of your clothes and things are still in the Autumn Court so we can go shopping whenever you would like. In the meantime you can borrow stuff from Mor and I," she said with another smile.

You didn't bother to try to tell the High Lady that you had nothing there that was worth saving anyway.

No servant did.

For the first time since you arrived, you let go of Azriel's hand to open the door. Was that just your imagination or did he also look disappointed.

As you opened the door you were in awe of the large room furnished with a ginormous bed in the corner. There were armchairs, tables, and couches tastefully placed around the room. In the other corner there was a large fireplace.

You probably wouldn't use that since fire would probably be too soon.

Across from the bed, there was the door to a large bathroom. Inside there were shelves filled with different shampoos, towels, conditioners, and washes. Across from the selves there was a large sink with a mirror overtop of it. Taking up almost half of the large bathroom, there was a bathtub, if you could call it that. It was practically a pool for how large it was and the fact that it was built into the floor.

You turned around to thank Feyre but she was gone. The only one there was Azriel who watched her reaction, grinning.

He cleared his throat offered you a blank notebook and pencil. "This is just if you want to talk to someone y'know?"

You tilted your head at his nervousness. The infamous, terrifying Shadowsinger, scared of you?

You took the notebook out of his hands and wrote a simple note:

Thank you.

He nodded and started to turn away before turning back and saying, "Can you fight? I know it's a stupid question..." Azriel's voice trailed off as you wrote:

A little. Eris taught me in case there was any males that he couldn't protect me from.

"You were close with Eris? From what I've gathered about him he doesn't care about anything," he asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

We were close. He's the one who saved me from bleeding out and took me to his mother. He also protected me from various males that tried to have their way with me.

Despite Azriel's deep hatred of Eris, he respected him slightly for how he protected his mother and you. Perhaps there was a half-decent male in there, but a coward.

"Here you're welcome to get some sleep and if you need anything just ask the House," Azriel said while shutting the door, "I'll have Mor or Feyre bring clothes."

Honestly the only thing you wanted to do was take a bath. You needed to wash off the dirt and the stink of the day.

As you walked in the bathroom, you noticed the bathtub was completely filled and steaming. You slid off you're clothes and dipped a foot in the water.

It was too hot. It reminded you of fire. Beron's fire. The fire that had burned you everytime you were too slow in bringing something in his presense.

You couldn't bathe in that water. Maybe if you waited, the water would cool off.

So you waited, and waited.

When there was a knock at your door you scrambled to your feet and quickly threw on your dress from the Autumn Court.

Feyre was standing behind the door a bunch of clothes piled in her hands. She frowned when she saw you hadn't taken a bath yet.

"Were you waiting for me to bring other clothes or what," she said gesturing to the open bathroom door.

You grabbed the notepad and wrote:

The water is too hot. I tried to wait for it to cool down but it didn't. I don't like hot things.

At your note Feyre's face softened. "I can cool it off for you," she offered, "How would you like it?"

Almost cold. Room temperture?

Your baths, (if you could call them that), that you had as a maid had just been taking a quick dip in frozen water with several other girls.

Feyre nodded and strode to the bathroom where she knelt next to the bathtub and waved her hand over the water.

"Is this better?"

You dipped a foot in. Gods, yes that was better. It wasn't cold enough for you to shiver in but it was cool. Sort of like a lake on a warm day.

You nodded.

"Good. There are clothes on the bed. There's undergarments, dress, pants, shirts, shoes, socks, and nightgowns. If there's anything else you need just come find me or someone. Oh, and if you don't want to write to me just let down your mental shields and we can talk mind-to-mind," she said with a smile.

You let your mental shields down and you could feel the High Lady's presence in your mind.

Do you perhaps have an extra satchel or small bag. Azriel gave me a notebook and I wish to carry it with me. You thought trying to keep thoughts of the handsome male out of your mind.

Of course, I can have it ready by tonight at dinner. She spoke, tinged with amusement as she walked out, closing the door behind her.

You built your mental walls up and took your clothes off before getting into the bathtub. You saw your scars and burn marks in the mirror. Your bathrooms didn't have mirrors. Only the people you served and you kept yourself completely covered for those encounters.

Mother it'd been so long since you could relax and the bath did just that. Once you finished washing, you sat on one of the steps and allowed yourself to melt against the water.

You forced yourself to get out to not fall asleep and ignored the mirror as you strode past.

You sorted through the pile of clothes on the bed. There was everything from dresses that were practically lingerie to a set of Illyrian leathers. As you peered closer to the leathers you saw a note saying:

I saw these weren't being used and figured you should have them if you wanted to train. If you want to, just find me, Cassian, or Rhys and tell us. -Azriel

You figured training would be a good thing to do to build muscle and also to defend yourself.

You pushed thoughts of that aside and dressed in a pair of leggings and a simple sweater and opened the door to get dinner with your notepad.

Tinkling laughter echoed from the staircase that led to the dining room. You walked down the stairs, feet silent and came to at the entrance to the dining room.

No one noticed you there, nor heard your feet from what you could tell.

Suddenly a presence appeared next to you and you turned to see Azriel beckoning you to sit in the other open spot.

It was between Cassian and Feyre. You thanked the Mother that you didn't have to sit in the other which was between two unfamiliar females.

One had a short black hair and silver eyes and the other looked like Feyre, but a much more delicate version.

There was another women standing in the doorway. Sharp would be the best word to describe her. Sharp cheekbones, sharp eyes.

Shit. Her sharp eyes snatched to you but you stared right back even as she approached you.

"I haven't seen you before. Are you also a member of their perfect little family?" Mother even her voice was sharp.

You snorted and wrote on your notepad.

Mother I hope not.

She smirked and stuck her hand out, a human gesture. "I'm Nesta."

Ah the High Lady's sister. So the soft one must be Elain.

You shook her hand and wrote your name.

"You're new I haven't met you before," she said eyeing you.

They claimed me from the Autumn Court.

"So you're the one they were talking about. They were discussing if you could be trusted. Rhysand said he looked into your mind and didn't see anything bad so they're keeping you I guess. But why can't you talk?"

Instead of writing anything down, you opened your mouth and showed her the absence of your tongue. Instead of the pitying look most people gave you, her gaze hardened, angry.

"Just another reason to murder Beron I suppose," she said threateningly.

You just wrote:

Please do. And do it where I can watch. Or let me have a turn.

She laughed at that, a cruel, harsh sound that had everyone pausing their conversations.

You grinned. You liked Nesta and her sharp tongue.

Where are you going to sit? You wrote.

Whatever happiness lingered in her face vanished at the question. "I'm not going to."

Then I'm not either.

That was the start of your friendship with Nesta. On the days you trained she would sit and watch you. You would both sit in the library and read each others books. She introduced you to her world of smut, smut, and more smut. Honestly you didn't complain one bit. I mean how could you?

Your friendship with Cassian also progressed. Sometimes he would train you, sometimes Azriel would. He also gave you books. They were a lot less interesting than Nesta's but you read them.

He was there for every step of your recovery. I mean so was Nesta but she was also trying to recover and didn't express her emotions as much as Cassian did. Honestly the tension between those two... You wished they would shut up and get together at this point.

Mor you didn't really click with. I mean she was always nice but her personality was overwhelming sometimes. She loved physical affection. You had nothing against that but you didn't like people touching you as much as she does with people.

Feyre on the other hand understood you more then she let on. She always knew when you were struggling and offered a hand. She also knew you couldn't go on extravagant spending sprees like Mor did, especially when it wasn't your money. She was content just enjoying your company without having conversations, and when you did it was nice not having to write, since she spoke in your mind.

Rhysand you didn't really have a relationship with. He was your High Lord and was always busy, so you two didn't spend much time one-on-one. And whenever you did and it was silent, the silence was uncomfortable. He knew everything about you, had seen it in your head, (with your permission of course), but it made you slightly nervous that you were so vulnerable to someone that powerful.

But Azriel, he knew everything. That was because you trusted him. He had told you everything about his past, so you told him about yours. You held each other in the early hours of dawn due to the nightmares you each had. There so far, was no mating bond with each other but you felt like you didn't need one. You two were close enough that you would tell each other anything. You liked this feeling, completely bare to someone else that was also completely bare. Physically and mentally.

You had shown each other your scars. He knew the feeling of the burns, the light prickle that turned into an inferno. Like you needed to scratch the skin off. His room was always cool for that precise reason. When you woke up screaming in the night, he was there to hold you, his shadows caressing your bare skin. He knew of the males that hurt you, he fought all his instincts to not go off and find them to tear them apart. No, he swore you could have that chance.

He hadn't minded kissing you even without your tongue. It took some getting used to be he didn't care. Didn't care that you couldn't talk. He bought you notebook after notebook so you could talk to him. There were separate ones that only stayed in his room, completely filled up that he always took when he went on missions, to read over when he wasn't with you.

Once your relationship became public, he doted on you every chance he got. Taking you to shops, buying you anything your eye snagged on, or just holding you during meetings with the Inner Circle.

At first he knew you weren't super comfortable with touch, so he made it his mission to help you. At first it started with small touches, light kisses, and holding hands. Then it went to having an arm around your shoulders or waist. Once you became comfortable, he held you publicly or had a hand on your thigh.

You never were unfomfortable with him no matter who else you were with. He made you feel safe. How could you? He was home.

Your home.

[olicitymckono]

Verstappen's Heart

First Max X reader 😊

AN: All mistakes are mine

Warning: Mention of abuse.

ENJOY 😊

Working as Max Verstappen’s Personal Assistant was an opportunity of a life time. Yn was a young American/British woman who had grown up watching Formula 1 with her grandfather during her teens and knew more about the sport than anything else. She had been studying for her masters degree in administration and had been taking a break for the holidays when she had literally ran into Geri Halliwell the former Spice Girl and wife of Christian Horner, team principle for her favourite team Red Bull. The two women had got to talking and some how Yn found herself at dinner with the Horner’s and with a job as Max’s assistant. She had yet to meet the man and as the new season grew closer she found herself more and more nervous about the meeting. That day happened to be the day Max was leaving to join his team for some pre season training. Max had been busy talking to GP his engineer when Christian had introduced her to him. She had quickly realised that she need not have worried because Max was a really nice and genuine guy who made her feel at ease and accepted from the get go. She could definitely see them becoming fast friends. And she had been right.

Max had been quite intrigued by the young blond woman who had entered his life and he could not deny that she was good at her job. In just the space of a few short weeks she had managed to familiarise herself with his schedule and everything else that was important to him. One thing that really surprised him though was the fact that his father Jos seemed to like her as well. That might have to do with the fact that she stood up for herself and never allowed him to intimidate her. That first day when she had called out his father Max had never liked the girl more.

One person however who did not seem to take a liking to YN was Kelly, Max’s girlfriend. The fact that Penelope had taken to Yn didn’t do her any favours. Max was convinced that Kelly was just jealous and had called he out on it a few times but Kelly had been adamant that there was something off with the American/Brit.

Yn was by no means a bad person and was genuine in everything that she did but Kelly had been right at least slightly. Yn had a secret well not so much that she had to keep it hidden, it was just something she didn’t like talking about.

Two days before Qualifying Max had asked her to dinner. He wanted to thank her for the great job she was doing. She couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made her heart flutter. They had both had a lot of fun that night but the next day the media had a field day with pictures of them, all with the same question, “Was Max cheating on Kelly?”

Max and Yn decided to ignore it as it was the 21st century were a man and woman were allowed to be friends and true fans of Max and Formula 1 knew who she was and loved her just as much. Kelly on the other end was not impressed and she had caught the next flight to Jeddah. She had started a huge argument and demanded that Yn should be let go. Max equally pissed at the demands of his girlfriend refused and told Kelly that Yn was not going anywhere. The atmosphere between Kelly and Yn was thick and the fact that Max refused to get rid of the her. Kelly knew she had to do something herself. She hired a private investigator.

2 weeks later:

Max was busy getting ready for media day in Australia when Kelly came walking into his drivers room, a smile on her face. “I need to talk to you.”

“Hi yourself,” Max looked over at her. He was a little surprised she had wanted to come to this race as she usually missed this one due to her work schedule, but yesterday she had called him to say that she was on her way.

“Hey baby.” She kissed him deeply.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Max, I know you like Yn but she isn’t who she says she is.”

Max sighed annoyed. “Kelly please I’m tired of your suspicions and accusations. I don’t know why you don’t like her and that’s fine but she is my co-worker and friend. You don’t have to like her.”

“I wish you could just listen to me for a change. Yn Logan doesn’t exists at least not till 6 years ago.”

“Not everyone posts their lives on social media Kelly.”

“I’m not talking about just social media. I mean she doesn’t exist anywhere. I hired a PI.”

“You what?” he snapped. “Are you out of your mind?”

She reached for him but he pulled away. “I’m trying to help you Max. This girl is dangerous.”

“No, you’re just jealous!”

“I’m not jealous. Oh her? Please.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Listen she’ll find another job and that will be that. Like you said she’s good at what she does.”

“I’m not firing her Kelly.”

Kelly huffed, “Still? Just how good is she in bed?”

“Excuse me?” he was fuming.

“Well,” she crossed her arms annoyed. “there is no other reason you won’t get rid of her unless you’re sleeping with her.”

“He’s not.”

The couple turned towards where Yn was standing. She had been on her way to go over some possible questions he might have to answer when she had heard them arguing. She was going to turn back to give them some privacy when she had heard her name.

“Of course you would say that. Little slut trying to protect herself.”

“That’s enough Kelly!”

“I think you should ask that investigator for your money back.”

“You heard that?” Max asked looking a her. She nodded. “I’m sorry, Kelly had no right to do that.”

She shook her head, “It’s ok. She was looking out for you.” She turned to the Brazilian. “They didn’t do a good job though.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t look that hard. Up until 6 years ago my name was Yn Alexander when I was legally allowed to change my name. Logan is my grandmothers maiden name.”

“And why would you need to change your name?” Kelly asked sarcastically.

“Because I wanted to get as far away from my family as possible. I wanted to rid myself of any connection.”

“Why?”

“Kelly, stop.” Max could see how uncomfortable Yn was and he didn’t need an answer unless she wanted to share.

“My biological father died when I was 2. Killed in action. My mother remarried her boyfriend less then 8 months after my dad died. Turns out they had been having an affair while my dad was on tour. My step dad had my name changed to his. Which he decided was enough of a reason to take what he wanted. I was 4 when he touched me for the first time and 5 when he raped me for the first time.”

Kelly’s face fell, she had not been thinking anything like that. Max walked over to Yn and put an arm around her shoulders. “Yn I’m so sorry.” Kelly replied.

“My mom never believed me and choose him. So I got rid of that name. But thank you for making me relive all that.” She moved away from Max and hurriedly wiped her eyes. “The media is waiting Max. You need to get out there.” She turned and walked out the room.

“Max,” Kelly started but he simply put up his hand to stop her before leaving the room.

She was quiet during the media and avoided any unnecessary contact with him. Charles who had been in the same group as his friend picked up that something was a miss. “Is Yn okay?”

“No,” Max couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. “Kelly fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not my story to tell but she violated Yn’s privacy.”

“Why? Is she still acting jealous?”

“Yes.”

Charles nodded softly. “Can I asked you something without you getting mad?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like her?”

Max knew who he was asking about and it would have been easy to say no. But there was something there, he had realised it weeks ago but he had not said or done anything. He did love Kelly. Yn had this way about her, she was warm and caring. Everyone she met instantly connected with her. She never treated him like he was untouchable. She always saw him as just Max. He could be himself with her, something he had recently realised he was not able to be around Kelly anymore. She was too much of a wag and what that entailed that she had forgotten about her boyfriend and even at times her own child. “I do.”

Most of the weekend passed by uneventfully. Kelly, Max had noticed had made herself scarce and avoided Yn at all costs. She felt terrible for what she had done but she didn’t regret it, as she had just been trying to protect Max. But he was more worried about Yn. She didn’t spend anytime alone with him, making sure that she was the first to leave. He was worried he was going to lose her. And he was right.

After the race and celebrations for his win, Christian called him over. “Where’s YN?”

“She quit.”

Several weeks had passed since Australia and she was finally getting settled into a new job and routine back in Texas. She missed the races and the drivers especially Max but she had lived so long in a toxic situation and wouldn’t endure that again. Her feelings for Max was not easy as well. She had felt guilty for days for thinking that she had somehow made Kelly jealous, but soon enough she had realised that she hadn’t done anything wrong. No matter how much she had grown to like Max, she had never done anything inappropriate. Max had tried getting in touch with her over the weeks but she had ultimately decided to move past all of that and had simply sent him a message thanking him for everything and that she would miss him greatly before blocking his number. Charles on the other hand had become quite a good friend and had been keeping her up to date on the red bull driver. Just because she was gone didn’t mean that she had stopped caring about Max.

It was midway through the season and Max was doing well at least from a driving perspective. He was top of the championship and had yet to lose a race but that was because he had been determined to hide how sad and angry he was. Things with Kelly had soured significantly after Yn had left to the point were the two were barely talking to one another. The only thing in his relationship he cared about was Penelope. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the change in Max as he had always been focused and determined but both Charles and Christian knew something was wrong with the Dutchman and it had everything to do with his former PA. A week into the mid season break and Charles took the opportunity to help out his friend, both of them. He knew they had feelings for each other and deserved a chance regardless of what anyone said.

“Hey man, how is everything?” Charles asked one day over the phone. “How’s the break?”

Max sighed and Charles could tell he was tired. “Not great man. Kelly and I....it’s just exhausting.”

“Don’t you think maybe it’s time? You obviously don’t feel the same about her anymore. Why make yourself sick over a relationship that’s over?”

“I want to bit what about P?”

“Max I know you love that little girl but what about you? You’re in love with someone else. Someone who gets you and makes you feel like you matter. Not as a driver or athlete but as Max.”

“She doesn’t care about me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Charles, she blocked me from everything and hasn’t spoken to me since Australia which was months ago.”

“Because she was hurt. She hates her past and what happened to her. They way she had to tell you was not how she would have wanted to. In fact she might not have told anyone if she had the chance. Did you know the abuse lasted till she was 14?”

“What?”

“Yep, once a month for 9 years. Sometimes more. Her stepdad would lie in wait till her mom would be either out of town or too tired to notice. Each time threating her afterwards. She tried telling her mom but the woman refused to listen. It was only after her grandparents visited for the birth of her half brother that anyone helped her. Her grandfather woke up one night for something to drink when he saw her stepfather coming out of her room clothes not quite right. He had waited till the other man was back in his own room before he went into her and found her crying. She told him everything and when he confronted his daughter, you know what she said?”

“No,”

“Yn was a little liar and was trying to ruin her family and was jealous of her baby brother.”

“I would have killed that son of a bitch on the spot.”

“They removed her from the home and she changed her surname as soon as she turned 18. I’m sure you can imagine wanting to forget something like that as best as you can.”

“It’s terrible and I wish she could have gotten the chance to tell me on her own terms.”

“She asks about you all the time.”

“You talk to her?” Max asked now fully invested in the conversation.

“We’re friends.”

“How is she?”

“Aside from missing you for some reason, she’s doing okay. Lives in Austin. You should go see her. After you break up with Kelly. I like Penelope too but you can’t deny your own happiness because of her. She wouldn’t want you to.”

Max nodded before realising his friend couldn’t see him. “Will you help me?”

“What can I do to help?”

 

Yn was a little surprised that Charles had asked if he could come visit her for a week. Just days ago he had asked her to join him and Alexandra in Italy for a break but she had sadly had to decline do to work commitments. Although she was happy to get to see her friend again. He had arranged to met her at her apartment after work and now she was hurriedly trying to pull it together before they got there. She was just putting the last piece of her clothing away when she heard the door bell. “Coming.”

When she opened the door though the smile she had fell. “Hi Schat.”

“Max, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” she stepped aside allowing him in.

He looked around her apartment at everything that made sense. Her home represented her in every way. Minimalistic but classy and sophisticated. “Looks amazing.”

“Thank you. You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here? And why do I get the feeling Charles has something to do with this?”

“Because he does. He was never coming. He was helping me.” He looked over her, drinking in the sight of her. He had missed her more than he could express. He walked towards her, stopping right in front of her.

The way he was looking at her cause her stomach to flip and the fact that he was so close to her wasn’t helping. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Why?” he asked reached a hand out and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. The part of her skin he made contact with felt like it was on fire. “Because.”

“Because why? Are you afraid of me?”

“No,” she responded quickly shaking her head. “You just can’t look at me like you want to kiss me.”

“You’re not wrong there. I do want to kiss you. Have wanted to for weeks even before you left.”

“While as much I want that too you can’t.”

She made to move past him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her flush against his chest, lips mere inches from hers. “See now that’s where you are wrong.” He closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers. At first she wanted to resist but he was a really good kisser and it felt so good. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up. Wrapping her legs around his waist he carried her to the couch lips never leaving hers.

Laying in his arms felt right but of course there was the elephant in the room. Kelly. Yn felt guilty that she had slept with a taken man. He could sense something was wrong as he lazily traced patterns down her bare arm. “I broke up with her.”

Yn lifted her head and looked at him, “You broke up with Kelly? Why?”

“Well, things had been weird between us since Australia but the main reason was because I fell in love with someone else.”

“Me?”

“No Danny,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “Of course you. I knew I felt something for a while but I knew for certain that I loved you after you left. Life just sucked.”

“I doubt that, you’re leading the championship.”

“Winning isn’t everything Schat. And truth is the more I won and you weren’t there by my side, the more it lost any appeal. My life is empty without you. Not to mention my cats miss you too.”

“Should have led with that.”

“Oh, so you love them more than me?”

She chuckled, “I didn’t say that.”

“And you didn’t say you didn’t love me too.”

“I do Max. I love you.”

“Come back. Be with me.”

“I want to but I have a contract and an apartment.”

“We’ll rent it out and use it for holidays. And as for your contract, Ill buy you out. I want you with me.”

“What about your new PA Greta?”

“I’m sure Danny will take her off my hands and she’ll be happy with that too.”

“What did you do?” Yn smiled knowingly.

“Nothing....too bad.”

She laughed, “You’re a stubborn man sometimes.”

“Exactly, which means I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“You make a tough offer to turn down. But I have one condition.”

“Let me have it.”

She shifted so that she was on top of him causing him to groan as she touch his sweet spot. “Can we keep this between us? The fact that we’re together, at least for the time being. Its so soon after you and Kelly split and I know how the fans can get.”

“I don’t care abut the fans, but I can do that for you. For a while a least. But we have to tell Charles and Alex. He is the reason we’re together. “

“Okay, we can tell them, and maybe Daniel, he is your best friend.”

“And Christian. I know he’ll be thrilled you’re back, second only to me.”

“Ok. I have one more request.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you think you can do that thing with your tongue again?”

In one swift move he had them turned over with him hovering over her. “Anything for you my liefie.”

Feel free to send in any requests

[showtoonzfan]

Okay so I saw S1E2 of HH “Video killed the radio Star” so here’s my thoughts on that, ⚠️SPOILERS⚠️

- So once again, the pacing is all over the place. In the span of 2 episodes we have to deal with introducing Adam and Lute, the main characters of the hotel, the three V’s and Sir Pen, and I don’t like how the three V’s are introduced in the second episode of season 1. Like…can we just let the characters we know breathe and get to know them before you introduce new ones?? Told you this was going to be like Helluva lol.

- So hell is freaking out that the extermination got moved to 6 months later, but Charlie of course isn’t the focus of this episode. It’s mainly the three V’s + Angel/Al/Sir Pen. It still bothers me that the reason behind redeeming sinners is not because Charlie is sick of Hell being a damnation but because she doesn’t want them to be exterminated. It’s such a drastic change from the pilot and the character motivation that it still throws me off sorry.

- So, I actually like Vox. I take back bitching about Christian Borle playing him because while his suave voice may not fit the twink design, he does a fantastic job either way as expected, making Vox an intimidating person. I had thought before that Vox was going to just be this dumb henchman, but I actually like how he’s the runner of things. He’d be so cool if he didn’t curse and talk like every other character in the show though.

- Good GOD Valentino. I already shared how I felt about him when the dialogue leaks came out, but I HATE how his character is just this idiot man baby who throws temper tantrums and legit needs to be “calmed down” by Vox because he’s such an idiot. Like…Velvette calls him a piss baby and Vox legit had to talk to him as if he was one, that’s how dumb this guy is. There’s a scene where Vox asks what they should do about the hotel and Val says “just put something inside, that’s how I get the bitches”- like…kill me. The fan interpretations were better. He was actually someone you didn’t want to mess with and had an intimidating voice, here he’s a whiny baby that you have to remind yourself is the same guy who forces himself on Angel. The Addict and comic version of this character is not the same as the one we have now. His voice is too high pitch, it sucks and his accent goes on and off constantly. Viv can’t write abusers for shit, she sees everything as a joke. Again, how are we supposed to take abuse seriously if this is how you portray your abuser. Crimson is more intimidating than this joke of a cockroach.

- Alastor has been gone for seven years, yeah that “Lilith is Rosie and Al is working for her”- allegation is 100% true like it perfectly lines up together since Lilith has also been gone for seven years. Only for Alastor, it makes no sense. Like…wdym he’s been gone for seven years. The pilot is canon and they state he’s been at the hotel for a week. Alastor was literally walking around town when Charlie was on the news. Do they mean that it’s been years since he’s done his radio show? Viv, when you retcon shit you need to specify. You’re just confusing everyone again.

- They need to explain why exactly it’s dangerous to make a deal with Alastor because all this vagueness isn’t helping the story. The whole reason Vox sends Sir Pen out to be a spy was to make sure Charlie didn’t make a deal with him, yet you literally have Vaggie making a deal with him like it was nothing in the last episode. I also fail to see why exactly Vox cares about Charlie making a deal with Alastor in the first place. Is it because he doesn’t want Al to have more power? Is it because he doesn’t want Charlie to have power? EXPLAIN.

- Yay more retconning and woobifying. So Angel Dust is a whiny wimpy bitch in this episode, he’s very out of character. When Sir Pen comes to the hotel, he’s extra pressed about that, when in the pilot he couldn’t even take Sir Pen seriously and was acting nonchalant towards him. Then when Charlie starts getting all giddy and complimenting Pen, Angel gets sad and jealous??? This is the second fucking episode of season 1. I thought the whole point about Angel and the hotel was that he didn’t trust Charlie nor take the redemption stuff seriously. Now apparently he wants her approval? And then when he finds Pen out, Pen insults him and that causes Angel to just fucking lunge at him and start punching. When did Angel get this goddamn sensitive. Why did the wimpy snake character who’s supposed to be a loser get under his skin THAT much? It’s even more jarring because the last episode Angel was literally saying he loves being exploited and in the pilot he’s presented as someone who could give less of a shit of what other people think, now a simple jab at him being a slut made him go off. Remember when Travis called him a slut in the pilot and Angel just laughed it off? What happened to that Angel lol.

- Vaggie has a line that flat out calls Angel a sexual harasser. And yet we’re supposed to feel bad for him and root for HuskerDust. Makes perfect sense Viv, fuck you. She has no idea what sexual harassment even is because she sees actual harassment as quirky funny jokes and paints it as genuine love. Pick a side. Is Angel an asshole who sexually harasses people or is he an uwu baby who deserves to be with Husk. Clearly Viv chose the second option.

- I liked Vox and Al’s song, tho I wish it was more singing instead of talking. Charlie’s song in the end was boring but at least it was short. I still don’t know how to feel about Pen being at the hotel tho. Like I get he’s a loser and not a big threat but him happily joining the hotel now is way too structurally fast. There’s a lot of things that feel like Viv changed at the last minute compared to the pilot and it shows. Pilot was better.

That’s it, not looking forward to the third one which is HuskerDust focused (female centric show my ass)

[mostly-just-sasuke-blog]

The conversation around Sasuke leaving Konoha needs to change. It's true that the in-story narrative by those who don't know Sasuke is that he is a traitor that betrayed Konoha. Unfortunately, too many in the fandom take this narrative at face value. But neither Naruto or Sakura endorse this view. Although they are confused by Sasuke's choice they both know Sasuke too well.

People talk about Sasuke choosing to leave Konoha...

But no one talks about how Itachi told Sasuke he'd come back to kill him someday. And Sasuke had very good reason to think that Itachi would target anyone Sasuke got close to.

Or how about how the curse seal would have killed Sasuke if it wasn't fully activated?

Or how Orochimaru made it clear he wasn't going to stop pursuing Sasuke? How long do you think it would have been till his patience ran out and he got tired of asking nicely?

Or how about the fact that he was found and targeted while he was in the village. The village couldn't protect him. Kakashi couldn't protect him. It's even the whole reason Naruto left to train, because the village wasn't safe enough. Naruto had people looking out for him. But Sasuke didn't. He is targeted multiple times and the village didn't take any action to protect him.

Yeah, Sasuke did make a choice. The right choice. He made the best choice he could make under the circumstances and no one-- not konoha, not Naruto, not Sakura--no one was hurt more by Sasuke's choice than it hurt Sasuke to make the choice to leave and live with one of his abusers. Yet he was the only person who offered to do anything to help him deal with his other abuser. It was horrible that Sasuke had to put himself through this second trauma... And yet the fandom has the audacity to make Sasuke's trauma about Naruto?? Or about Sakura?? Sometimes it really seems like no one in this fandom gives a crap about Sasuke unless it's to prop up their stupid ships. The fandom literally treats Sasuke like crap. Sasuke didn't leave because he wanted to. He wasn't being selfish or greedy. He just took stock of his situation and made the most viable choice he had. He wasn't happy that it was. He was willing to die for Naruto and Sakura. He valued them more than than his own life. Of course he wanted to stay. But he couldn't.

Ironically the fandom has compassion for Itachi for doing what he felt like he had to do, even though he actually killed people, and when he torments Sasuke, of course even then people actually focus on Itachi. But Sasuke did something that incidentally hurt Naruto and Sakura, do he's a selfish traitor. Sasuke didn't owe Naruto or Sakura. Yes, we see Naruto cared about Sasuke, but to Sasuke's face Naruto had treated him like he was a rival he wanted to overcome more than as a friend. And Sakura? He never started a relationship with Sakura. He may have felt guilty because he was abandoning his duty to Konoha.... the irony.

Sasuke lost everything once, and then he lost everything again when he was forced to leave it all behind. And it killed him. That Sasuke, the part one Sasuke who sometimes acted his age, he died. Sasuke killed him, so he could survive. It was yet another traumatic experience in his life.

That's the conversation we should be having about Sasuke leaving.

[brights-place]

do you mind doing a Branch x rock troll reader?

Branch dating an Rock troll! S/O

Pairings: Branch X Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry for the late post I've been kind of busy hon! anyways take the request! <33

- He met you when poppy introduced you to him since you were going to be helping him expand the structures of pop village - Branch would be confused at first when he realize he likes you - You slowly started to bond after awhile of hanging out and him learning about your genre as he told you about his back. - It's known pop Troll is extremely happy, strives happiness and seeks fun above all things which is so like them but its also true that they are prone to absolute panic when things go wrong, often overreacting in a comical way - But branch didn't have that atrribute well he had the panicking bit but the happy and fun part? that was... uhmmmm yeah no - Branch takes awhile to open up to you especially after well The Rock world tour - I mean come on! Barb was leading an world tour and all the crimes she has committed has changed his whole view of rock trolls though he is trying to welcome them slowly - This Dude Is Autism Coded you can’t change my mind! (I’m autistic) - Attempted world domination, Attempted cultural genocide, Hate crimes, Terrorism, Piracy, Malefic, War crimes, Crimes against trollkind, Mass invasion, Mass kidnapping, Serial grand larceny, Mass brainwashing, Unlawful imprisonment, Abuse of power, Conspiracy, Psychological abuse, Extortion, Minor arson, Assault and battery, Mass property destruction, Attempted mass slavery, Corruption, and Public endangerment! He has an whole list of crimes that were committed by barb

- Though after awhile of hanging around you he couldn’t help but feel relaxed and allowed you to touch stuff in his bunker

- He Let you meet Gary and you are the only one allowed to hold Gary and know everything about him. (Gary from trollstopia if you know)

- Branch enjoys how you listen to him when he rants about things

- You were so worried when he said he would drink his own sweat which you told him not too and is unhygienic

- After awhile he would notice subtle things about you and would learn more about you and your hobbies which poppy pointed out was kind of weird for branch since he never does that for other trolls a lot but him doing that for you? Poppy smirked - He fell for an ROCK TROLL! - This man was so confused and questioning himself as you were standing in front of him telling him about your new song that you wrote and were gonna preform with Petra, Romper and Rose - He was an pop troll... you were an rock troll you were different!

- Branch would listen to you about speaking about your genre and you listen about pop genre aswell - You two would do duet songs of rock songs and pop songs but if you could convince him to sing rock songs with you he would try... It turns out he’s good at it

- You teach him some Rock n Roll greetings and handshakes which he got used to

- He did the handshake infront of poppy doing the rock n roll greeting handshake with Riff and Barb who laughed and they told him where you were which made branch flustered

- Poppy stared at him with sparkling eyes squealing questioning if you two were dating which you weren’t… Yet!

- If Branch ever found something that would suite you for example some studded belts or leather braclets he would think of you and would buy it

- Whenever you meet up he would always have an gift that reminded him of you

- His love language is Acts of Service, Quality time and sometimes Gift giving

- Though he wouldn’t mind some affection from you since whenever you see him you hug him tightly

- Introvert X Extrovert type of bond!

- You are his opposite and that’s what he loves about you

- Your smile your laugh and yes you may be different genres but he loves you so much because of it.

- Your comfortable in your own shell and you help him to become comfortable with himself aswell!

- branch is thankful for you though you mainly come to his bunker then he comes to volcano rock city since he finds it hard to breathe due to well the lava and Asch along with the foggy presence

- Though he will visit if you can’t come if your sick or your doing an show

- He stared up at you when you were on stage signing while playing your guitar while maintaining eye contact with him

- After the show was done you rushed to him hugging him squealing excitedly glad he came to see your show

- He couldn’t help but stare at you with an spake in his eyes which you returned before leaning in kissing eachother with an smile on both your lips

- Barb coughed into your hand as you giggled while branch hid his face in your shoulder grumbling

- “Love you” Branch muttered as you smiled back “I love you too”

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 9

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: 10.6k 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.* Family drama (past), revelations, family estrangement, the truth will always come out. Summary: The revelation of your grandfather's identity is not the only secret that will unfurl itself into your life. Notes: This week has just been another shitshow of utter chaos, but it is LOVELY chaos, so I hope you enjoy the chapter my darlings! As always, sorry for any errors I miss. I’m just an exhausted little nerd doing my best 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

"How are you here?" And, more over, how are you real? But one thing at a time. The fuzzy edges of the memory that washed up on the shores of your dreams are still nudging at your waking mind.

He sighs sadly, his eyes shuttering slightly as he reflects on what has brought him back to you. “It was only because of your abuela’s sacrifice, muñequita. It was the only way to lift the spell. She loved you more than anything else on this earth.”

"I don't understand." Whether it's the fog of waking up so suddenly or the confusion of memories and dreams and daydreams all slamming together in your mind, you can't quite tell.

“I am your grandfather.” He tells you with a charming grin. “Some call me ‘The Thief’, since it has been years since anyone but the people in this house have known my name. But you always called me ‘Yayo’.” He bows slightly as he tells you his real name.

“Holy shit.” Max hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at his sire. The pieces are clicking into place, but even he is shocked at how close you really are to the man who had created him, who had saved him when he had been destroyed. How was it possible? A vampire cannot have children, at least that’s what he’s been told.

"But...I made you up." That's the rational half of your brain. The part of you that knows dreams aren't real, that fantasies can't come true through manifestation alone, and that love is a feeling rather than a universal force. But the other half of you? The witch who was born of witches who once conjured fire with nothing more than a thought and bare hands? That part of you knows he's telling the truth. "Didn't I?"

Again, another sigh. A habit he had picked up from his late soulmate. The human-ifcation as she liked to call it. “No. When your mother took you away, banned us from seeing you, the only way I could visit was through your dreams. Apparently the spell she cast had also made you forget about myself and your grandmother.”

Max is tense beside you and you cover his hand with one of yours, squeezing it as if it might reassure him that everything is okay. You can feel that intrinsically even if the logic for how you know that escapes you. "I think..." Like a rapid-fire collage on the inside of your mind, flashing of visits with your grandparents burn to life as very real memories instead of gauzy wisps of dreams. "I—um—" Looking between the two men, realizing that you're in bed and in your pajamas, you look back to Yayo with wide eyes. "You're not a witch, are you?" You ask, needing confirmation more than you actually need to be told. The memories are there in your mind, but they aren't clear.

Chuckling quietly, he shakes his head. “No witch.” He promises, letting his razor-sharp fangs descend from his gums to show off his true nature. “A vampire who was soulmates with a witch, just as my protégé.” His eyes shift to Max. “Now you understand why you were brought back.”

The next puzzle piece clicks into place in your mind and you gasp, looking over to Max with wide eyes. "Are you— I mean— did he?—" You sputter inelegantly, running out of breath all at once as you try to stutter out a coherent question. " Your sire is my...grandfather?"

“I didn’t know.” Max shakes his head in awe, apparently nearly speechless considering he knows that this vampire is older than any other that he knows.

"There is much to say." Yayo's eyes move between you on the bed, coming back to you after a few seconds and holding your gaze. Not in an entrancing way, but with the soft eyes of a doting grandfather. "We can talk anywhere you like, muñequita. But when you were a little girl you were very grouchy before breakfast."

"I should at least get dressed, I guess." For the second morning in a row, you are starting out disoriented and with an unexpected visitor. But this time you're not afraid. Curious? Oh yes. But there is none of that deep, intrinsic fear that there was yesterday.

“Then I shall meet you in the dining room.” Yayo bows and turns to disappear through the door like a ghost, completely silent as he moves.

It's icy cold around you when he sweeps out of the room without a sound, and you turn to Max in wide-eyed confusion. "Um..." you huff, shaking your head. You want to ask how he had possibly gotten in the house, but that seems like a moot point by now. "Good morning?"

“It seems like there is a lot going on.” He snorts slightly, reaching out to you to stroke your arms lightly. “How are you feeling?”

"Weird." The sense of safety that you have with Max is absolute, and you nearly collapse into his side to beg silently for more of his comforting touch. "I dreamt about him again last night. And it was a dream. But it felt so real..."

“I don’t think it was a dream, Queenie.” Max murmurs softly. “I think your grandfather made you relive a memory. He was here, all night.”

"He was here?" When your head pops up again you want to harrumph about having two vampires sit around watching you sleep, but as soon as you think it you think again about how safe that is. And how no one else in the world would probably feel as safe around creatures who drink blood to survive as you do. "Max?" Your head tilts slightly and you find his eyes. "Have you ever known your sire to lie?"

“Never lie.” Max tells you. “Sometimes he doesn’t tell you everything. He’s…enigmatic, but not a liar.”

"I remember my parents fighting," you tell him quietly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Max's shoulder before you push back the blankets to crawl out of bed and find some clean clothes. You're doubly glad that you took a bath last night. It had helped you relax and be sleepy for bed, but now it takes away the need to wash this morning. "That's what I dreamt about. My parents fighting with my grandparents." Right before you disappear around the corner into your dressing room, you turn to look at him with sadness in your eyes. "About me."

“Families sometimes don’t agree.” Max can understand that you are hurt by that. Zipping over to you to wrap his arms around you. “But you can find out why now. And….” He bites his lip. “You have family still.”

"One person." Though you nod against his chest, knowing that he's right as you hug him back. "It was too much to let me know both of them, I guess."

“He said something about a sacrifice.” Max doesn’t want to cloud your opinion before you talk to his sire. “I know that it was Cookie’s choice to stop taking his blood. He did not agree, but he could not stop her.”

"Allison said Cookie...abuela was trying to break some kind of spell. They were working together trying to combine their magic to make it happen but they couldn't." Realizing that you were technically brought here under false pretenses is odd, but you can't find it in yourself to be upset about it. Apparently, this situation is far more complicated than you knew.

“Then we should hear the unfiltered story from his mouth.” Max encourages, giving you a small smile as he reels from the developments of the morning.

"I guess that is what breakfast will be for." Looking at your closet, you look back to Max with determination. "You said your sire was a big deal in the vampire world, right? I should...try to dress up? Dress respectfully?"

“Dress in whatever makes you feel good.” He arches a brow. “This is your grandfather, important vampire or not. Your imaginary friend isn’t so imaginary anymore.”

"What's your favourite color?" It seems like a silly question, but in the face of so much chaos you're looking for an anchor. Something solid to hold onto in the storm. And if that thing is as simple as wearing your soulmate's favorite color, then that's what you're going to do.

Max smirks slightly as he leans against the door frame. “Blood red.” He teases for a second before he shakes his head. “No— actually, yellow is my favorite color.”

"Okay." Yellow...you have a few yellow things somewhere...you can definitely find something, at least. For now you reach up to hug Max as tightly as you can and exhale an unsteady breath. "I'm just going to get dressed and then I'll meet you downstairs?

“Of course, sweetheart.” Max understands that you might need a few moments to yourself. He nods and then disappears out of the doorway to dress himself and go down to the dining room.

The photograph of you and your mother that stares back from your vanity mirror is a tantalizing route back to those memories that still escape you. You find yourself staring at it for longer than you should, tracing the curve of your mother's face and seeing the way that Yayo's curls somehow had ended up on her head. How had you never noticed? Or were those curls just something you found so comforting that it simply hadn't occurred to you not to give them to your imaginary friend? But he isn't imaginary at all. He's so very real. And he is your family.

Sighing, you dig into your dresser until you come out with an amber colored cable knit sweater and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. The comfortable ones that Derek hated because he said they weren't putting your best foot forward. Fuck that. You've always loved these pants. If comfort is a way to take back power, you are absolutely here for it.

Max is dressed in a flash, downstairs and waiting for you. His eyes fixed on the stairs as he tries not to ask his sire any questions that you might wish to know the answer to while he waits.

As quickly as you can, you head downstairs, only to find both men standing at the bottom of the grand staircase instead of sitting in the dining room as you expected them. "Waiting for me?" You ask, knowing the answer but feeling unduly self-conscious about it all of a sudden.

"I would wait to eternity for you muñequita." He promises, soft affection glowing as he steps forward and offers you his arm. While he understands the modern customs and traditions, he still prefers his way of being. Set in his ways about some things, and the opportunity to touch you is still a delightful experience. "Your breakfast is nearly ready, and I believe the tea service is already on the table."

“Mrs. Taylor is wonderful.” And you’ll never downplay that, especially not now that you realize your housekeeper has been his housekeeper for a very long time. Taking his arm instead of Max’s feels strange only in that you aren’t used to Yayo being solid. In all the thoughts you have of him, he is a figment of your imagination and not much more. Realizing that there is more at stake here is a lot to process.

“She is.” He won’t deny that in the least. “She took care of your mother when she was a child as well.” Since she had been with them for so long, Mrs. Taylor had known the entire history of the family.

“Mom…grew up here?” It’s only a few steps into the dining room, and Yayo pulls out your chair for you before sitting down on your right. Max takes the seat on your left and you note quietly that there are only three places set. Allison and Eddie must have gone back to Allison’s house last night after their date.

Settling beside you, his eyes are focused on you. “This house was built in 1852.” He explains. “When I found out that your grandmother was pregnant with your mother. She gave birth to her in this house.”

“What?” The math doesn’t add up. Not at all. The woman you remember — the woman you have photos of — was maybe in her mid-30s at the oldest. “Mom was…over a hundred and fifty years old?”

“Yes.” He knows it’s nearly impossible to imagine, but it’s true. “Your mother was half vampire, half witch and like me, nearly did not age.”

“Will you…” you sigh softly, and pour yourself a cup of tea with shaky hands. “Will you start at the beginning, Yayo? Please?”

Again, there is a carafe of blood, and he pours himself and Max a cup before he pick up the elegant tea cup and smiles slightly, remembering how he had bought this set for his Cookie. “When I was a young man, I was a thief.” He tells you, wanting you to understand the background of your family line. “The best. I was never caught save for one time.” He flashes a grin. “When I stole from the Devil.”

The Devil. For the moment — and for as unbelievable as the rest of the story seems to already be — you suspend your disbelief and nod. “How long ago was this?” You ask, trying politely to get a handle on exactly how old Yayo is.

"201 B.C." He answers with a small smirk. "I am quite a bit older than most would guess." Even Max's eyes widen dramatically, unaware that his sire was such an ancient vampire. "As punishment for my sin, the Devil decided to make an example of me." He takes a sip of his blood and pauses dramatically. "I was the first of our kind. The undead. The first vampire to walk the earth."

When you glance at Max it’s very clear that your soulmate fully believes the story that is being told, and you would never take Max for easily misled. More over, he knows a hell of a lot more about vampires than you do. So you sip your tea in contemplative silence for a long moment before sitting back in your chair again. “And you met Ms. Brown—Cookie—that is…abuela…in the 18th century?” The timeline here is mind boggling, but you’re trying your best here. To understand it all. To believe it.

“Part of my punishment was that I would walk without my soulmate for over a thousand years.” He snorts elegantly. “Apparently a few hundred extra years is no matter to the Devil.”

“And abuela was born a witch?” The genetic differences between witches and humans had dwindled over time to become very subtle. The powers they manifested were less powerful, too, and you regret now that you never listened more deeply to your father when he tried to tell you about your ancestors. Your mother’s intense desire to live a human life had overruled that sort of talk as you got older.

“Yes.” The proud gleam to the ancient vampire’s eyes reappears and he caresses the edge of the teacup. “Cookie was formidable. A powerful witch. When we met, she had come to the colonies because her own coven had cast her out. Scared of the power she possessed.”

“She was remarkable.” Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway from the pantry with a plate of fixed breakfast for you, as the only warm blooded person at the table, and a bowl each of fruit and raw nuts for the vampires to pick at with their blood. “Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you have decided to leave the tower.”

“So that’s where you’ve been camped out.” Max snorts, smirking at his sire. “Dramatic as always.”

“Is that why Renee looked like she’d seen a ghost when I asked her about the locked room?” You thank Mrs. Taylor softly, as always, and inhale the beautiful scent of the last pieces of quiche from yesterday — one of your favourite leftovers that you had begged her to save — alongside a fresh salad, a few slices of bacon, and a warm croissant. She has outdone herself, as always.

Your grandfather clicks his tongue at Max, slightly annoyed at making it sound dramatic, even though it is. "I had a room next to Cookie's spell room. It was so that I would not bother her, but I could rest easier closer to her." He frowns slightly, still getting used to talking about his beloved in the past tense.

“Max is going to help me turn the teahouse into a little spell cottage.” The urge to be excited and proud for something you’re sharing with your soulmate is overwhelming, simply because after yesterday morning — and so many years before — there was not much to be excited about. And certainly no family to share anything with.

He smiles, a flash of fang and white teeth. No longer hiding them now that he's not just in your subconscious. "That is wonderful, muñequita." He agrees. "Every witch would have her own space. Your mother preferred her room, no other would do, when she would work on her magic."

“Her room was the one with the silver wallpaper, wasn’t it?” Somehow there is no doubt of that in your mind. The powerful feeling of belonging and comfort you had gotten from it when you first walked through the house now makes perfect sense, and you’re glad that you didn’t choose it for yourself. From now on you can go and sit in your mother’s room when you miss her, and that almost brings happy tears to your eyes. Because gods above, you have missed her so much.

"It was." He smiles as he realizes you must have felt a connection to the room. A presence. Since his daughter had passed, he had hoped that the feeling of her spirit - her early spirit - would remain. It and you were all he had left of his beloved child. "The portait hanging above the bed is your mother, nieta. She was twenty when it was painted."

“Abuela kept it close.” It isn’t even a question. You understand completely that that is how it ended up in the bedroom that once belonged to your grandmother and is now yours. “Was it for when she came out? Or…did Mom ever have anyone? Before Dad, I mean?” It’s a delicate topic but an important one, and something pulling at the back of your mind pushes you to ask it now instead of waiting.

“Your mother had a soulmate that she was with.” The memory makes him frown, his brow furrowing slightly.

“She did?” That is startling news, considering she always told you that she didn’t have one. But apparently there are a great many things your mother didn’t tell you.

"It is probably my greatest regret." There is a dramatic sigh for show from the vampire and he sets his tea cup down. "I, like any parent, made mistakes, muñequita." He admits. "Like Cookie and I, we believed that your mother was destined to be mated with a vampire. By the time she had come - which was a miracle - there was a large coven of witches and vampires. Despite my best efforts, there had been tensions between the two groups." He bites his lip. "Our nature, our bloodlust, craves the blood of a witch more than anything else." He reveals. "It's nearly ambrosia to a vampire and because of that, there had been some hard feelings among the covens because of our...less than responsible vampires."

"You believed she was meant to be mated with a vampire even though there were objections to vampire and witches interacting?" It isn't a judgement call, you're just trying to understand. Apparently your little suburban family with typical holiday dinners (and atypical holidays) was far less typical than you thought. "And Mom...didn't want that?"

"Vampire and witches are stronger together." He tells you quietly. "Especially for us. My line. We were the only ones capable of having children. Of creating a lineage." He sighs again. "She was in love with him. Emanuel was a smart, talented young man. Her mother and I were proud when we discovered they had matching marks."

"So what happened, then? Did something happen to him?" It must have, otherwise your father would have been a very different man. And Yayo wouldn't look so terribly sad.

“I made the mistake of changing him.” He murmurs quietly. “I didn’t do it without his permission. He wanted to become a vampire.” It’s almost as if he was imploring you to believe him.

"But you didn't talk to Mom first?" Though it is only a guess, it is a solid one, and you put your fork down for a moment. "It was a long time ago, Yayo. A very long time ago. I'm not judging you. I just want to understand what happened to my family."

“No, I did not talk to your mother.” He had hoped it would be seen as a gesture on Emanuel’s part. His acceptance of the family he had joined. “Unfortunately, your mother’s blood called to him. He tried to drink from her and she—” he winces. “She destroyed her soulmate.”

“Gods.” If you had been holding anything you would have dropped it instantly. Your mother killed her soulmate over bloodlust. That makes you stammer for a moment before all you can do is reach for Max’s hand and try not to shudder at the idea. You know Max would never hurt you. He’s proved that. He’s your port in the storm. “I’m so sorry, Yayo.”

"She blamed me. As she should have." He watches as you reach for Max and it soothes him in a way that he would never be able to explain. Your soulmate is a vampire and yet you are still drawn to him, comforted by him. "I had not yet learned how to bring one of my protégé back, so he was lost to us."

“Thank you for learning.” Your hand tightens around Max’s subtly, fingers flexing and keeping his grip. “For…making sure Max was here for me when I needed him.”

"Of course, muñequita." He nods his head seriously. "You should have met him years before and I cannot fix the past, but I could make sure you would meet him."

“And you have no idea how much that means to me.” He has no idea of what you’ve been through. What has gone on in your life between childhood and now. But at least you can say to his face that you’re grateful.

“I spent many years trying to find the way to fix my mistakes.” He murmurs quietly. “I am afforded the luxury of time, so I decided to put it to good use.”

“They did raise me a witch.” It’s the most reassurance you can give him, since your parents did not give you even a hint of the reality of vampires in the world. They had taught you magic, yes, but you had never had a real talent for spell work. “I’m sorry to ask you all of these things all at once. I just…I guess I don’t understand why we haven’t been in contact since the accident?” Allison had told you something about helping Cookie break a powerful spell, and that that was why she chose to stop drinking Yayo’s blood. But you still don’t quite understand.

“Your mother, while she wished to be human,” he sighs again. “Was a powerful witch. Some of her own talents far surpassing even her mother’s.” He picks up a few of the nuts and rolls them around in his hand. “There is a spell, a protective barrier, that would keep anyone away until the blood price has been paid.” He stares at you solemnly. “Death.”

“She really didn’t want me involved in all of this…” Something which is both stunning and rather appalling to you, considering coming to Newport might truly have saved your life. Who knows what might have happened to you if you had had to live in your car in Tennessee. Knowing that your sweet, steadfast mother was angry enough with her parents to separate you for life is daunting.

“Your mother…” he doesn’t wish to speak ill of the dead, and especially of the daughter that he had loved for centuries and will continue to love until he is destroyed. “Was very much human in the fact that she was not infallible, none of us are.” He doesn’t wish for you to hold a grudge against her, even as he tries to explain things. “I pushed too hard and tried to see you again after that last memory I showed you. That was when she cast the spell.”

“A spell that kept you and abuela away…and made me think that I made you up?” That is a remarkably impressive spell, you will admit it freely. Your mother’s abilities must have been far greater than you could ever have dreamed.

“Yes.” He bites his lip. “It was one that took us a long time to even figure out what she had used and even longer to discover the key to breaking it.” He reaches out and touches your hand. “Your abuela left you a letter, in case these truths ever came to light.”

“I would like to read it. If it’s not too much trouble.” A few of Cookie’s own words might be wonderful, if you’re honest. Though you do already feel the fullness in your mind off memories beginning to resettle now that you realize they are memories and not only your imagination. “It…doesn’t have to do this moment. It will take some time to process all of this.”

“Whenever you feel like it.” He promises, smiling indulgently at you. “I will have them placed in your room for when you are ready.”

“I’m…” There isn’t technically any reason to feel this way, but you still squeeze his cold hand gently. “I’m sorry we were apart so long.”

“Muñequita, do not feel guilty.” He chides softly, aware of that expression on your face. “It is I who am the guilty one. You have suffered for so long because I could not find you. I could not reach you.”

“It isn’t your fault that I was in a bad situation. Or Max’s either.” Acutely aware that Max views himself as responsible for that entire situation because he had been expelled that night, you won’t hear of it for even a second. “It seems like this is a new beginning for all of us.” New, aside from the specter of your ex-boyfriend that now hangs over Newport.

“Though I hear you had a visitor yesterday.” Your grandfather’s youthfully middle aged face drops unhappily and his eyes darken fiercely.

“I—” Mistaking his displeasure for anger directed at you, your eyes stop to the table instantly. “He was not invited,” you defend immediately, not wanting anyone to get in trouble on your account.

He pauses when he realizes that you think he is upset at you. “Yes, this…Derek will be dealt with.” He promises you. “Although I do not understand why you will not let your soulmate kill him.”

“Because I don’t believe that murder is ever the answer. Regardless of the question.” Suffering, pain, death — none of it. You’ve lived several lifetimes of all that hurt and you would be happy to never have another second of it near you.

“Kind and empathetic.” He hums, not displeased with the idea at all. “I will promise you this—” he taps your hand gently. “If he harms you again, nothing on this earth or in hell will protect him from me.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. A pact to repay every hurt he has ever bestowed upon you tenfold.

“I will say if I am hurt or not.” That is the bargain you will make. To make your grandfather feel as though the door is open, though you need intend to go through it.

His eyes narrow for a moment in contemplation and he nods. “Agreeable.” He decides.

******

For the rest of your meal, he answers your questions, never shying away from the answers and it surprises Max. His sire has always been elusive at times, and yet, he is very succinct with you. Perhaps it is because of the want to keep you close.

After he leaves you, your grandfather goes back to the tower. The locked room beyond Cookie’s potion room now opened. The mahogany box retrieved from a shelf and his fingers brush over the inlaid gold. The letters are inside. Lovingly preserved for you. His soulmate had taken to writing you at least once a week since deciding that she would sacrifice herself to break what she viewed as a curse. Her thoughts, hopes, memories all immortalized in ink, her familiar script beautiful as he opens the box and lifts a letter to his nose, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “You would have loved her, Cookie.” He murmurs sadly. “She’s stronger than all of us.”

******

The cadence of his footsteps is unfamiliar, and nearly nonexistent, but you know it’s him coming into the library a few minutes after breakfast has ended without ever having to look up. Mrs. Taylor has left menus for you to approve and Max is outside at the teahouse with Mr. Taylor — and Renee is altogether too bright and sunshiny for such a quiet entrance. But when Yayo appears holding a beautifully and intricately carved box in his hands, the arrival is near-silent and solemn.

“I had considered leaving these in your rooms.” He admits quietly, his voice low and soothing like it always is. “But then, I did not know if you would want that.”

“Would you…” you push the tray of menus aside, knowing that Mrs. Taylor won’t object to getting them later today. Not when these letters are so important. “Want to sit with me? While I read some?”

“I would be delighted.” Silently and much faster than Max, he moves over to you with the box.

The letter box is lacquered mahogany, trimmed in gilded dragons done after the Chinese style in what you now know intimately as chinoiserie — a Gilded Age specialty. It’s yet one more thing in this house that someone else would sell for a fortune at auction and instead you cling to it desperately as a connection to your family’s past. The key that he has left resting on top fits neatly into the lock and you open the box with a small smile as you bite your lip in concentration. The box is very old, after all, and delicate. What’s inside, though? Dozens of letters. Some thick and some thin. All stamped with blood red wax and addressed to you. “There’s…so many of them…”

“My late soulmate was a woman who loved to write letters.” He admits, his smile wistful. “There is a trunk of letters she had written to your mother while we were…estranged.” He reveals. “At one point after learning of her death, she had thought to burn them all, but could not.”

“The accident wasn’t easy for anyone,” you admit, glad to see him pull up a chair beside the large library desk with you instead of pacing anxiously or giving you distance. There has been so much distance for so long — all you want now is to keep him close. “I almost withdrew my place in college and just stayed closed up in the house. But I knew they wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“No, they wouldn’t have.” As much as he regrets not being there for you, he admires your courage. You might not think so, but you have been extremely strong-willed through the last ten years.

“And these are…all for me?” It seems incredible to you, that anyone would have spent so much time and effort just thinking of you, but the reality of things has been so different than what you thought they were for your entire life that it bears a sort of…reinspection.

“Yes.” He smiles at the box. “She would sit at her writing desk and talk to me about you. Wondering what you were like, how you were doing.”

“What was your favorite thing to imagine?” There is no way they could have guessed the truth, and that is your comfort. That you hope they never feared for you.

“You used to love to dance.” Your grandfather hums. “We spent hours dancing in your living room when you were small. We used to imagine you dancing. Laughing as you were guided along the dance floor.”

“I stopped for a long time.” You admit, not ashamed of the fact although you’re ashamed of the reason. It’s just what happened. It was your life for many years. “But I’ve started again…because of Max.”

“That’s brilliant.” His eyes sparkle in delight and his lips quirk up in a pleased smile. “You were so happy to learn when you were just a baby.”

“I loved ballet.” The slipper blanket still in your room is proof enough of that, and you smile. “But I do love ballroom more. And Max did danced competitively in college. It’s…honestly so nice to be able to share that with him.”

“It was my rule for the school that all students must take an elective that was creative.” He tells you with a dramatic flip of his hand. “I think it appealed to him because I was teaching the class and your soulmate is a bit of a suck up.”

“So you teach, then?” Ignoring the comment about Max — because you used to be a little bit of a suck up in dance class, too — you leave the letter chest closed and focus on Yayo. “In Romania?”

“That is how I discovered your soulmate, Muñequita.” He hums. “When I saw the birthmark, a mark I would know anywhere, I knew. I knew I had to take him under my wing.”

“I’m so grateful that you did.” If not for Yayo, who knows who Max’s sire would have been? Who knows how you ever would have found him again?

“I made mistakes with him as well.” He can admit that, flashing a fangy smile. “I let him get too arrogant. But he has learned his lesson.”

“According to him, he was already arrogant,” you tell your grandfather. “But he says that his attitude has changed enormously since you brought him back.”

“It has.” He agrees with Max’s assessment of himself completely. “This house, his stay here has been good for him.”

“This house has been good for me, too.” Yesterday morning notwithstanding, of course.

“Of course it has.” To imagine anything else would be unbelievable. “Despite your mother’s ill feelings, I had this house built to be a refuge, a haven, if you will.”

“Mom didn’t like having her hand forced. I didn’t understand it then, but I do as I get older.” It makes you shrug, though, not wanting to start an argument with your grandfather. “But this house has certainly been a haven for me. So thank you.”

“If I could have done things differently, I would have.” He admits quietly. “I would have bitten my tongue and realized my daughter’s dreams for life weren’t mine for her.”

“Regretting and wishing can’t bring them back,” you murmur, voice finding the same tenor as his. “If it could, we would have had my parents back immediately.”

“You are right.” He reaches out and pats your hand. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”

“I have had a lot of time to think it over. Not as much as you, of course, but…” A slight shrug of your shoulders comes as your hand runs over the box in front of you again. “There is so much I would say to my mother if I could see her again.”

His smile turned mysterious and he hums. “Think of what you would say to her, Muñequita. Never forget it.”

“I wish she could meet Max.” The thought had already occurred to you more than once, and as much as it hurts you also have to believe that she’s watching over you with your father beside her. “I think they would enjoy teasing each other.”

“She had a robust sense of humor.” He chuckles. “Perhaps one day you will know what she thinks.”

“It would be too wonderful for words, I think.” Dwelling on it for too long threatens to drown you in a wave of sadness, and your expression flickers — faltering slightly. “But I can dream.”

Sensing that you might want some space, he pats your hand again and stands. “I think I will go have Mrs. Taylor bring you up a pot of tea while you go through your abuela’s letters.” He decides.

“Thank you, Yayo.” Your hand catches his, squeezing his fingers tight for a moment before letting it go again. “For everything.”

“It is my pleasure and my duty.” He nods and bows slightly before disappearing from sight.

The box in front of you is full to bursting, and when you open the lid it is clear that some letters consist of a single page while some are self-contained novelas. They seem to be stacked in order of writing, but not with any semblance of order in the time between each letter. Selecting the first — a single sheet neatly folded, waxed, and dated — you carefully slip the seal and open the paper.

My Darling Girl— It has been a month and a week since we visited you last, making today your ninth birthday. I hope it is joyful, sweetheart, and that you know how very dearly your grandfather and I love you. When we see you again we will bring your gift and heaps of books, and your grandfather will dance with you until you are too exhausted even to laugh. And it will do my heart so much good to see you both reunited. You are the magic of our hearts, darling, and always will be. But in case this letter is only the first of many you will not see until you are a grown woman, know that we are thinking of you and missing you every day. And that we are so proud of you, no matter what path you choose each day. Happy birthday, darling girl. We love you. Granny Cookie

The heavy vellum paper is quite old, the scrawling, looping handwriting a work of art. Cookie had whimsically decided that your letters would be written with a quill, like she would have before. Making it a labor of love.

There are so many that it seems daunting, and something tells you not to read them in order but that might just be a response to how many there are. You’re still toying with the box, though, when Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway with a tea tray.

“Your grandfather said you might enjoy some tea while you read.” She smiles as she walks inside. “I took the liberty of making Cookie’s favorite tea for you.”

“You’ve known the entire time.” Far from being angry or accusatory, there is awe in your voice. Her loyalty and steadfastness to your grandparents is astonishing.

“I have.” She doesn’t apologize, her smile softening slightly. “It has been hard not to mention your mother, since you look so like her.”

The tea tray she sets down on the desk beside you is sparse, but Mrs. Taylor never brings * only* tea. There is a plate of scones today, with jam and butter. “Did you ever meet me before?” You ask cautiously, unsure if you had ever even been to this house as a child or if the housekeeper had ever traveled with your grandparents. “When I was young?”

“We have met before.” She answers vaguely, a curious twist to her lips. “There was a time we spend quite a bit of time together.”

“I wish I could remember.” It must have been when you were just a baby, considering that first letter from your abuela was at your ninth birthday. “I wish I could remember this house. Or visiting here.”

“A side effect of the spell.” She murmurs quietly. “It’s as if this house never existed to you before now.”

“I knew my mother was powerful, but I guess I never really knew how much.” There were always signs of it growing up, and of course your father has considerable magic as well, but this is a level far beyond what you knew was possible. “But…I never knew she was half-vampire, either. I suppose there was quite a lot they kept from me.”

“Your mother…” she sighs softly, a sound just for you. It had been amazing learning how to do those things again when you don’t need to breathe. It conveys so much. “Always looked at the other side of the field and admired the grass there. Even though her side was perfectly lush.”

“She wanted to explore.” Even as young as you were when she died, you know that. “Explore new experiences and meet new people. The more and the more different, the better.”

“She had been that way for her entire life.” Mrs. Taylor hums, happy that she had never lost her spark. “She was the first of her social circle to wear pants when it was so terribly taboo.”

“I can see her doing that. Being a rabble rouser.” In fact, from alternative choices at bake sales to extra adventures on field trips, your mother was always ready for anything. For a long time, you had wanted to grow up to be just like her. Fearless.

“Despite that, she broke many hearts when her soulmate was found.” She tells you. “She had quite the number of gentleman callers before.”

“Dad always joked that he had to treat Mom like a princess because there would always be another guy who would if he didn’t.” Mostly those jokes had been to encourage you to look for someone who would treat you the same, but you hadn’t really understood that at the time. Now, you think it might be a big part of why your father might have approved of Max. “So I can see that.”

“That is true.” She agrees. “I did not get to know your father well, but he seemed like he was a good man. He loved your mother, that was obvious.”

“He did.” You nod, agreeing with that statement easily. “He loved her more than anything else in the world.”

“Then that is all that matters.” While she’s sure that her soulmate would have been amazing, she’s not lived for as long as she had without knowing that you don’t have to be a soulmate to love someone completely.

“They were wonderful together.” It warns a small, almost wistful sigh from you and you smile. “Completely wonderful.”

******

Max had not meant to leave you alone all day. After breakfast with his sire, he had gone off with Mr. Taylor to look at the Tea House. Looking had turned into doing and half the afternoon was gone before he realized. Strolling into the morning room, he grins when he finds you still reading letters, happy to see you enjoying yourself. Carefully handling the folded and wax sealed paper as if it were precious, because it is to you. “How many secrets did the old bird spill?”

“You’re never going to believe some of the stuff she wrote out for me.” Having moved from the library after tea to the window seat in the morning room, you’ve been basking in the near-sunset while you read uninterrupted. But now that Max is back inside? You shift to one side of the seat and sit up, making room for him to join you. “She wrote down as much as she could stand to, I think. Sometimes just little notes and sometimes pages upon pages.”

Max plops down next to you in a graceless flop that would have looks undignified by anyone else. He makes it look almost elegant in its casualness. “So it’s like a journal….in letters?” He asks curiously, peeking at the script of the one you are holding.

“Kind of.” You nod and shift closer to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne when he puts one arm around you. Since vampires don’t sweat, the only underlying scent is the intensely powerful sunscreen he wears everyday to keep from being affected by the sun. Enchanted, according to him. “Some of these are stories about my mom. Others are talking about powers she suspects I might have had, or would be able to develop. Others are just memories. Sometimes she even wrote down stories about her and Yayo.”

“Really?” His eyes widen and he playfully waggles his brows. “Don’t know if you should be reading those.” He teases.

“They’re not intimate stories.” You pinch Max with two fingers and laugh, feeling lighter this afternoon than you thought you would be able to. “They’re my grandparents.”

“Uhhhh, hate to tell you, babe…” Max grins even wider, happy you are laughing and smiling. “Grandparents fuck.” He snorts. “Otherwise there would be no parents to have the grandkids and make them grandparents.”

“Yes, they do.” The way you roll your eyes is just for show, playing along with his teasing. “But they don’t typically tell those stories to their twelve-year-old granddaughters.” The letter you happen open to be holding is on the thicker side, dated the summer you were twelve. “Usually.”

He snickers and shrugs. “It would be a lot cooler if they did.” He jokes. “Let the g-kids know how hip they were at one time.”

“I think I would have been horrified to hear that when I was twelve,” you tell him honestly. “I was a very innocent kid.”

“Very innocent, huh?” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “We’ll change that, Queenie.”

“I was an innocent kid.” The last word gets emphasis, and you tilt your head to kiss his lips as of that proves some sort of point. “I don’t think what we did the other night counts as innocent in the least.”

“Just a little harmless grinding.” His grin turns positively wicked. “It’ll be less innocent when my ‘no need to breathe’ face is planted in your pussy for hours on end until you can’t take another orgasm.”

It should be abundantly obvious from the shock on your face that you hadn’t yet put that puzzle together, and the heat in your cheeks radiates off you in waves. “Yep…” you manage to swallow finally and half-nod. “That will be…not innocent at all.”

The chuckle he gives is filthy, accompanied by a wink. “So I was thinking about another date tonight.”

"You were?" the suggestion lights you up immediately, although it is tinged with that unfortunate but real paranoia. "Did you have something in mind?"

“I know you love to dance, but I don’t want to be a one trick pony.” Max hums, leaning in against you. “So I thought we could be disgustingly cliché. There’s a pumpkin patch, with a corn maze and a ‘haunted hayride’.” He puts air quotes around the last portion. “They do all the cutesy shit and sell hot chocolate. I thought you would love it.”

“Are you going to protect me from all the jump scares and fake vampires?” It’s your own small brand of teasing, because even though you love horror movies as an adult there is something about jump scares in real life that is less fun and more anxiety-inducing. The one thing you do know, though, deep in your heart? Is that Max will protect you no matter what.

“Absolutely.” Max practically giggles. “Gotta show off so your little pussy throbs at what a strong, manly vamp I am.” He winks to show that he’s teasing, but he would protect you from anything.

“And you can smell it, so I can’t even pretend like it doesn’t affect me.” Which, admittedly, could be slightly embarrassing. But for some reason Max being so in tune with your emotions is a wicked turn on.

“You can pretend it doesn’t affect you at any time.” He hums. “Just because you’re turned on, doesn’t mean you are in the mood, sweetheart.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Although he does have a point, and you appreciate him acknowledging it out loud. “I was thinking more like…it’s harder to play innocent. Since I kind of have an inkling that you might enjoy that sort of thing.”

“Hmmmmm but I like when someone plays hard to get.” He admits with a grin. “Knowing they want me but making me chase is just as thrilling.”

“So this works for you perfectly then, I guess?” It’s one less thing to have on your mind, if he’s telling the truth. And Max has never given you any reason to think he would lie. “You probably love those great big doe eyes some girl have. The innocence and purity of it all.”

“I like your eyes.” He flirts shamelessly. “They are the prettiest I’ve ever gotten lost in.”

“I’m already yours, ya know.” Despite the protest, you absolutely melt in his arms and become a puddle against his chest. “You don’t have to flirt.”

“I want to flirt.” He promises. “Flirting is good for the body, mind and soul.” He announces. “It makes you feel good, makes you feel wanted and it makes you easier to kiss.” He teases, turning his head and kissing your nose.

“In that case?” You could not be more putty-like in his arms if he had been literally kneading your shoulders. “What time do you want to go out tonight? Because hay rides and pumpkins and chilly fall things with you sounds like a dream.”

“Six? Six-thirty?” He asks. “That way we still have plenty of daylight to pick out pumpkins? I know you will want one or two.”

“That’s perfect.” You would probably put a pumpkin or two in every room of the house if you could, but that sounds like a mess waiting to happen. “Do you want to sit with me for a little bit or do you have something you want to do before then?” It’s about a hour and a half away, and there are so many more letters from your grandmother to read. The box seems never ending. It might even be enchanted to hold extra, you can’t tell.

“I’m right here until we change,” he promises. “I’m thinking this will be our casual date. Leggings, boots, for you of course.”

“Maybe we can alternate?” It’s just a small idea, but knowing that he loves to dress up and make a splash and you aren’t typically as well dressed as he is lets you both have moments of fun and moments of relaxation. “Something fancy and something casual?”

“That sounds good to me, Queenie.” He flashes you a grin. “Can’t hurt and it’ll keep you from getting bored.”

“I have a feeling I’ll never be bored with you.” It’s just a feeling, but it’s right in the back of your mind and hovering over your heart, so it’s undeniable.

“It’s because I’m incredible.” He boasts, but it’s all just an act. His thigh is pressed against yours and he looks over at the letters. “Want to read me one? Or is it something you’d rather keep to yourself for now?”

“I think it’s safe to say that my family is your family…since my grandfather is literally your sire and all.” It does sort of call the structure of vampire families into question in your mind, but that is a detail you will ask Yayo about later on. “You can read the next one. That sounds nice.”

“You want me to read it to you?” He asks, brow raised at the thought. “I will.”

“I like your voice,” you admit sheepishly, sinking down in his arms a little in a rush of embarrassment. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it now.” He teases, reaching into the box and selecting a letter. “Hmmmm, how does this one look?”

“Perfect.” Every time he shows such amusement or happiness at little compliments from you, you feel that same skip in your heart that you’re starting to think might become a permanent fixture in your life. Max never ceases to surprise you with his affection and it really is wonderful.

“Puuuuurrrrrfect.” He rolls his ‘r’ playfully as he slides a neatly manicured nail under the wax seal and breaks it. Stopping and shuddering before he looks over at you. “Did you feel that?”

“It’s just a little chilly in here.” You explain it away instinctively, not even realizing that a breeze would have no effect on Max whatsoever.

“Sppppooooooky.” He’s playing it up, but there had been a current to the air when he broke the seal on this letter. Clearing his through is purely perfunctory as he opens the stiff paper. “My darling Muñequita,” he begins and says the date.

This is a later letter, something from you were a teenager. Max must have gone deep into the box. You hum happily at that and snuggle into his side like a cat.

“You really are the cleverest witch I have seen in my time. And considering how old I truly am, that is saying something.” He tilts his head and glances up at you before looking back at the letter. “To think that the answer was right in front of us, just a few words difference is simply magical, pardon the pun.”

“Are you sure this one is addressed to me and not my mom?” Though the question is rhetorical, there is also a nugget of truth to it. You haven’t done any sort of remarkable magic in years.

“It says it’s to you.” He huffs, flipping it back over so you can see the way it’s addressed. “Hush.” He blows you a raspberry. “Take the compliments. Now where was I?” He scans the page again. “For centuries, we had just believed that it was a myth, as fanciful as that sounds. Time travel. Who would have believed H.G.Wells was a witch?”

“I’m sorry.” Sitting up ramrod straight in an instant, your eyes go wide. “Did you just say time travel?”

“Are you always this disruptive?” Max teases as he waves the letter at you. “It’s right here. Do you want to read it for yourself?”

“But time travel is impossible!” Managing to snatch the letter from his hand, you settle back in his arms with a furrowed brow and your two front teeth firmly biting down on your lower lip as you reread what he had just read out loud. “Who would have believed H.G. Wells was a witch? Of course, everyone know that magic, alchemy, and science are all the same thing. But not everyone knows how to harness it to emotion. But you are such a clever thing, we ought to have suspected that you would find a way.”

“Sounds like someone did something.” Max intones, his voice playful, but he’s impressed.

“I can’t imagine what. By the time this was written, they hadn’t been allowed to see me in more than six years.” Still, the pull of this particular letter is far too strong, and you turn back to it with curiosity. “It took us an embarrassingly long time to understand it fully, Muñequita, but once we did you cannot imagine how foolish we felt for not seeing it years before.”

“Wow...incredibly intriguing.” Max snorts, impatient as always. “Like- what did you do? I wanna know.”

"I'm disruptive and you're impatient," you tease, but you keep reading. "To know that you managed to visit us from your time is remarkable beyond words. And how clever you were not to let us know, to never have even given us a whiff. You have your Yayo's talent for keeping secrets, darling girl, and we are so proud of the power you have finally come to. We will keep the portrait you so graciously left with us in the house and I will display it proudly for all of my days, telling anyone who asks that my granddaughter has a warm and loving heart and a doting, charming husband."

“Husband?” His own eyes widen slightly and his lips curve into a slow grin. “Something I should know, Queenie?”

“At the moment you know exactly as much as I do.” Your hand is practically shaking with the letter in it, but the slightly smug, pleased grin on his face makes you huff out a laugh. “I have no idea!”

“Wellllllll, now we have a mystery to talk about.” Max chuckles. He knows that you don’t know, but it’s intriguing.

“If I had to guess?” Being the kind of little kid — and sometimes adult — that had dreamt yourself into every possible and impossible kind of situation, you avoid his eyes slightly when you shrug. “If this is true, then you must have been there, too. I wouldn’t call anybody else that, and depending on when we went to, dating doesn’t exist. It’s married or unmarried, and an unmarried woman has a hell of a lot more restrictions on how she can act than a married one.”

“That would be interesting.” He snorts and shrugs. “I promise I won’t demand my husbandly rights if you’re correct.”

“Maybe we’ll actually be married by the time it happens, who knows?” It’s such a ludicrous ides that you can’t really take it seriously in the first place, and you shrug. “Besides, it’s time travel, honey. It’s not true. It can’t be.”

“And vampires don’t exist.” Max reminds you with a grin. “It’s so unbelievable that you would go back in time to visit with your granny when your soulmate doesn’t have a pulse and drinks blood?”

He has, frustratingly, a very good point. So much so that it makes you pause with your mouth already half-open to a pithy reply and shut it again with a furrowed brow. “I guess…” you swallow a deep breath. “If I wear every going to visit anyone…”

“She would be the one to visit.” Max finishes for you. “I wonder when you visit her. Obviously you haven’t yet.”

“After Mom was born.” You can answer that easily, even if your voice is quiet. “Any time when Mom was young. I always wondered what she was like as a young woman…and she never liked to tell stories. I get why, now. How could she rephrase a story about the 1870s to make it sound like modern life?” The idea of seeing your mother again is painful it’s so sweet, and you sniffle quietly, burying your face in your free hand. “I miss her so much.”

“I know you do.” Max hums thoughtfully after a moment. “You can’t have gone to the past when she would remember it, would you? Otherwise, she might have done things differently in life, right?”

“I guess…it would have to have been long enough ago that she wouldn’t have a strong memory of me. Or at least that she would never make the connection.” It feels like such a weird thing to contemplate, but Max is looking down at you so intently that you find yourself just spinning in the idea. Trying to follow the thought all the way through. “And I certainly wouldn’t use my real name. It would be Dolly. Or Queenie.”

“When we time travel, don’t use your real name, got it.” He gives you a thumbs up and snorts playfully. “Can I have a code name too?”

“Sure.” If you do roll your eyes at him it’s all in good fun and teasing. “What do you want your code name to be? James Bond?”

“Bond.” He imitates with an English accent. “James Bond.” He laughs and shakes his head.

He is laughing, which has you giggling, and you shake your head at him in pure amusement. “I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a yes or no,” you tease.

“I would need something way cooler.” He huffs and smirks at you. “Something that is subtly acknowledging my sexual magmatism.”

“Bruno?” Just about anything would be silly, and you can’t resist his smirk anyway. “Should we call you Jean-Claude van Damme?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Romania, not Austria, babe.”

“What would you like to be called?” What he wants is more important than anything, after all. At least, it is to you.

“I was just teasing, sweetheart.” He promises. “Call me Max, I promise it’ll be alright with me.”

"We won't ever need to worry about it." You're certain of that, somehow. Even with the evidence sitting right there in your hand.

“With this discovery, do you still want to go out?” He asks quietly. If you’d rather read more letters, he wouldn’t blame you.

“I think I need some time to adjust to the idea,” you admit, putting the letter down without finishing it. It’s taking up so much space in your mind that you feel as if you might explode. “Maybe I’ll shower before we go out? I know we said tonight is going to be casual but I still want to look nice for you.”

“Go shower, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “Or better yet, go soak in that claw foot tub.”

“Yeah?” It’s a very soothing idea, and you have to agree that it might do you a world of good. All the same, though, you don’t want to be too far from Max. “Are you going to go back out to the tea house?”

“No.” He can sense your unease, and he quickly decides that he will stay nearby. “I’m going to go see if my jeans still fit.” He jokes with a grin. “Haven’t worn them in a long time. No need to, until now.”

“I know you’ll be very handsome in whatever you choose.” It is touching, though, that he is dressing down for you. Because you know that his suits are his suits of armor.

“I know the leather jacket is what you’ll focus on.” He jokes, winking at you.

If you could stop yourself from blurting it out you would have, but your immediate reaction is an unapologetic: “You have a leather jacket?”

His eyes light up when you give yourself away and he nods. “Yep.” He hums, leaning in to you, crowding you slightly. “Black leather.”

“That…” When you swallow it’s slightly embarrassed but interested all the same. “That sounds nice.”

“Does it?” He rubs his hand down your arm. “That’s good. Maybe we’ll see how you look in it tonight when you get cold.”

The thought of being marked as his in any way makes you burn in the most unexpectedly lustful way, and you clear your throat before standing up. “I going to go take a cold bath.”

“You do that, sweetheart.” Max reaches out and pats your hip. “I’ll be here when you get out.” He pauses. “Better yet, I’ll be at your door when you’re ready.”

______

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My Masterlist!

[genovianxprince]

OK I think I understand some of why some people in the fandom choose to make Mystra some kind of a terrible, grooming abuser to Gale. It's because every one of the companions has like a specific person you can point to and say, that is the abuser. That right there is the person who has caused the companion grievous harm. Gale and Mystra are a little more complex than that.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel technically have a whole cult/culture backing up the abuse, but you can still pretty directly point to Viconia and Shar for Shadowheart, and ultimately Vlaakith for Lae'zel as well as just... every Githyanki she ever met, except for Kith'rak Voss.

Wyll has Mizora, Karlach had Zariel and Gortash, Astarion has Cazador, all very obvious and self explanatory in the game. They were innocent, kidnapped, coerced, sold, played like a damn fiddle. But Gale?

Gale has Mystra, a goddess he loves, who also loves him, and the things they did to each other were both fucked up, and a lot of the fault totally lies with Gale! The other companions all had external forces affecting them. Gale's was mostly internal. He refused to believe he was good enough. "As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and I still wasn't satisfied." A literal goddess, the one he favored, the one he was in love with, who favored and loved him back, consistently told him he was perfect as he was and he straight up did not believe her. He placed himself on a higher and higher pedestal he could never reach the top of because if he wasn't constantly climbing to some nebulous goal of perfection, then could he be good enough for Mystra?

Y'know, instead of just believing the woman he was in love with. And I get it! Insecurities suck! Especially when you've been the gifted child your entire life, perfectly talented at something that all the adults in your life go nuts over. But also, it is extremely arrogant to assume you know better than your literal goddess and be like "yo, there's a missing piece of the Weave and I can go get it" like... Mystra is the Weave, she would have known and probably sent someone on a quest if it were actually Her Weave and not Karsus' Weave.

Gale is INCREDIBLY hubristic and he keeps falling for that trap. He's overconfident. Hell, even after his year in isolation where he comes out humbled, a small group of people believing in him for a short amount of time gets him to go "omg, crown of karsus = godhood, I can totally do that and tell the gods they SUCK and overthrow Ao's rules!"

Like, babyboy, no.

Of course, Mystra is not without some fault. After Gale's initial... Folly-up, she just ignores him for a year. Damn, girl, what the hell! Well. You see. The Netherese orb is a fragment of the magic that Karsus used to try to ascend and steal her throne with. The magic that she realized was going to kill everything if she didn't sacrifice herself. For a moment, all magic ceased to exist, including Mystryl herself, and Karsus died. Then Mystra came into being. Gale tells you a short version of this story himself! So it kind of makes sense that Mystra would see this shard of magic and just... kinda have a trauma reaction! And to gods, time flows differently. It wouldn't shock me to learn she didn't realize it had been a year by the time Gale left his Tower due to mind flayer shenanigans. Naturally, she does not want to discuss the thing she's so terrified of, and just tries to have it destroyed without her having to touch it—the plan to have Gale blow himself up on the Absolute itself, and she would save his soul. And even after he disobeys her instruction, she still allows the orb to feed on the true Weave! She still lets him live without fear of blowing up randomly, even though it greatly distresses her to let this magic that killed her once feed on her own life force.

Then he reaches the city, and reads The Annals of Karsus, and realizes she's going to have to explain, despite not wanting to. And she summons him. Tells him exactly what's in his chest. Asks him to turn over the Crown and she will destroy the orb and face her own trauma, because Gale... doesn't want to die. She understands that. And she still loves him and his big beautiful brain despite how stupid he's been, and she wants to have him as her Chosen again.

Things will never be the same, of course. They both fucked up. Gave each other a bad time. But in the end, they forgive each other and move past it. Not as a couple, because things broke too much for that. But they can have a healthy relationship as Goddess and Chosen once more.

And that is what sets Gale and his trauma apart from the companions. He doesn't have a direct abuser or live in a horrific abusive society. He almost killed the goddess of all magic a second time and she had an understandably harsh reaction to that, even if it was still too harsh. I just don't believe it's only Mystra who fucked up here. Not by a long shot. Much of it lies squarely with Gale.

And, as for the grooming allegations [as far as people trying to say it is canon], literally just no. She's a True Neutral goddess. Gale literally tells you that you are not his first mortal lover, he had a few before he ever fell into Mystra's bed, and you're just the first since the breakup about a year ago. The game doesn't shy away from sex and sexual abuse in the least. Why on Earth would this be something hidden behind several layers of nonexistent subtext? It's definitely fun for AU's, but by Ahghairon's lost nose, no, it's not canon!