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#because for me at least that's a point of trauma and i know it's similar for some other trans people. and i just can't justify it.
uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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I would give up my immortal soul if it meant that journalists, publishers, writers, family, friends - just everybody - would stop with the whole trans person's chosen name followed by "formerly known as [unused or dead name]"
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rubysparx · 4 months
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Honestly I don't think I'm qualified to make this post, I just don't know if I can make coherent enough words man. But the thoughts are in there and I will try to articulate them. This is probably going to be mostly images though. anyway yeah KABRU POST.
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A couple nights ago (at approximately 2:30am, lasting a little over half an hour) I had a bit of a moment about Kabru. That, too, was mostly images- most of what you see in this more concise post were presented then as well. I think my main points of the "moment" were about Kabru's trauma + self hatred, his autism and/or general otherness, and also a little labru if you'd like..
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I think something easy to start with is I wanna point out Kabru's constant back and forth and conflicting opinions of demihumans and how, I believe, thats a reflection of how he goes back and forth on what he believes his purpose of living is- and the general worth of his own life. I've said it before and i've just kinda shown it in images; Kabru is "i think im a monster and it disgusts me" where Laios is "I know im a human and it disgusts me" (i could go more into the latter on another post)
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the above are both from the world bible, with the left being from the section on kobolds and the right being from the section on Kuro specifically. Utaya was very near to the desert where most of the kobold population is, this is likely why Kabru is able to speak Kuro's language- he grew up around demihumans. (chapter 48 cover, kobold chapter in the world bible) I won't try to speak for how his mother or the rest of utaya felt about the kobolds but I can say that Kabru was very much othered as a child, as was his mother, purely for the way her son's (kabru) eyes looked.
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I feel like its fair enough to say that both kabru and the kobolds were othered, and possibly for similar reasons (villager's seeing them as nonhuman, as monsters) and the fact that Kabru learned their language probably didn't help his case. I think his perception of kobolds (and all demihumans, subsequently himself, as he probably still views himself as nonhuman or not human enough.. deep down) was damaged by the Utaya incident. at 2:30am when I first started this ramble my main comment was that "had the utaya incident not happened kabru would have little reason to feel ashamed for his connection to monsters. and may have ended up similar to laios in that he couldve had otherkin swag" which is just a sort of silly way of saying Kabru could've learned to love the thought that he is possibly nonhuman or at least not hated himself so much for it.
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in the original ramble I said, and quote, "he has been STALKING laios. laios is his hyperfixation to learn how he can ever be loved. he keeps going back and forth so harshly on wether or not he wants to kill Laios and he clearly sees his survival from utaya not as an unfortunate trauma [*] but as a necessary, deserved fate. a punishment for his mother's witchy sins, and for his sin of being non-human. to atone for it all, to apologize for being alive, he tries to better the lives of all humanity. He was set on his way to dethrone the governor of the island . do you understand? im going insane" *i also said somethings about the way he processes other people's traumas and not his own. He's able to understand and even help some people, but he struggles to process his own issues and see himself as worthy of love and life.
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^some examples of Kabru being understanding of or helping others who have suffered greatly. I think its also worth mentioning that with Rin (called "Lynn" in that translation) he says "I wish there was a way to get her out of this" though he's insisted and pushed for himself to go into a dungeon;
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In chapter 94, Mithrun says "The desire I had left wasn't revenge. All I wanted.. was for it to finish devouring me." and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say Kabru was in a similar situation. Mithrun sought out the demon with no plan on how to kill something like that because deep down he wanted it to end his (Mithrun's) own life, to finish the trauma it caused and kill him. I think Kabru went into the dungeon in part with the hopes that it'd kill him. That the same thing that destroyed Utaya and caused him so much trauma would just.. finish him.
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I just think Kabru is a beautifully complex character, I have a lotta thoughts on him and I don't see nearly as many analysis posts for him than I do Laios (despite labru being such a popular ship)
there is no tldr for this post idk how to summarize it. do what you will with this collection of images. have fun. go crazy
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fun fact the woman in the bottom left corner is his mother, she is labeled here as "witch"
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sukifoof · 10 months
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hii i was talking about this on twitter so i think i will just copy paste it here cuz i’ll probably delete it there at some point <3 twitter frightens me but i love my mutuals here we are all insane about flowey in the same way
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 i think saying “you’re the type of friend i wish i always had” is a really important thing for asriel to admit... this whole time asriel has dealt with so much grief and guilt about chara that it separated the actual person chara from the idealized version of them in his head who he has never stopped grieving. its a huge part of his character that hes unable to view them as they were because that’s just how his ptsd and guilt affects him. as someone who went through a similar thing that kind of grief can mess with your head and how you view yourself and the person who’s gone really badly. the pacifist route, for flowey’s character specifically, is a really good example of how grief and ptsd can make you feel disconnected from yourself, everyone around you, and like if only the person you lost was back everything would be perfectly fine again. the fact that he can admit they weren’t perfect and that he made the right decision is a huge character development that we don’t get to see in the no mercy route because he’s still convinced that this idealized version of them birthed from bereavement will make everything okay. similarly to how he believed toriel might have been able to fix him, he wants to believe there’s someone out there that could somehow return him to who he was before being traumatized, but the reality of it is this is just who he is.
his grief and trauma is a huge part of who he is like it is with real people, but it doesn’t have to be all of him. i think the emphasis the fandom puts on whether chara was Good Or Bad completely misses the point that it doesn’t really. matter i guess?? they were a kid people loved and now they’re gone. we're seeing people deal with the grief this brought and we know so little of who they are because there’s also a degree of separation about who they are to the people they loved as well. idk i hope this makes sense i think a lot about how chara is a kid who hated humanity and calls themself a demon. to me that just shows an EXTREMELY traumatized child with self hatred. i don’t know why there was ever this huge moral argument about chara when they’re literally just a kid with issues. they weren’t taught how to deal with how they felt and likely held themself in lower regard compared to the dreemurrs. its the same thing with asriel, he feels responsible for them being gone and his own trauma. he just wants a friend who can teach him to understand his grief or someone who can at least let him view the situation for how it really is
i just think. flowey is so well written but not understood very well by the fandom because the type of thing he’s gone through is kind of hard to grasp. it’s a weird situation that doesn’t have a completely black or white Is He Or Chara At Fault kind of answer. they were children. people are complicated and want someone to blame when something goes wrong and flowey directed that at himself. hes such a fascinating and well written character i love him dearly i hope u guys understand how insane he makes me <3
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yourheart-inmyhands · 5 months
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YOU HAVE A CAT?! ME TOO?!
She hates me tho :(
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Zhongli, Neuvillette and Dottore
With a fox!darling that is always with animals and isn't social at all due to heavy torture in her past and they discover it? 💀
Man I'm in need of some gore rn 💀💀
- Weird anon ✨
i'm so sorry but i just couldn't write neuvillette for this prompt, he's too precious DX
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including being held against will, delusional behaviors, torture, breaking of bones, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!
Yandere!Zhongli sympathizes with you, and since it’s clear that the animals bring you comfort, he allows you to keep a couple when he moves you in with him. He even goes the extra mile and builds a special enclosure so they’ll be just as content as you are, even if you aren’t receptive to his love yet. 
When he finds out about your past, which is inevitable with how overbearing he can be and how good he is at finding out things from the locals, it almost hurts his heart a little. But the more sickening side of him is thrilled because now he knows exactly how to get to you, exactly how to make you his perfect little spouse.
Whether it’s be reintroducing trauma through breaking bones, locking you in a cold, damp room with no lights for hours on end, or even things that border on torture, he’ll use it against you so long as it won’t entirely ruin you. While he wants you compliant to his whims and wishes, he doesn’t want you to be a shell, it would’ve been a waste of his time to break you to that point;
Zhongli would never stop as low as hurting your animal friends, but if need be he could certainly find ways to turn them against you. It’s almost amusing to him, the way you care so much for creatures who you’ll outlive. How you care so much for creatures who don’t even really know you, funny.
The sickening crunch of bone echoes through the room as Zhongli stands over you, the heel of his shoe digging into the freshly crushed bones in your leg. The makeshift gag, a towel from the kitchen, dug into the sides of your mouth as it muffled your screams and cries. The Geo Archon almost feels bad for using his strength in such a brutal manner, but it would all be worth it, at least that was how he justified it to himself. It wasn’t about the now, but rather what now would soon be bringing him. By breaking you down bit by bit, sending you spiraling back into some of the worst moments of your life, he could slowly rebuild your shattered pieces how he saw fit. What use was a puzzle if the pieces weren’t in the correct order, right?
Yandere!Dottore is sick, sick, twisted, and absolutely disgusting. If he wasn’t the cause of your original trauma, you could surely bet he’d be the driving force behind re-traumatizing you. 
Whether he chooses to reenact every step, or to simply do something far worse than what had previously done it all dependent on how he feels that day. Some days will be so similar to your past that you’ll truly feel like you were back there, all those years ago. Other days are so awful it almost makes what happened in your past seem insignificant as if that were a stone among boulders resting on the ocean floor. 
Dottore does think it’s funny though, using it as both amusement and research opportunities. It wasn’t often that animals such as yourself came across his table, so of course he’d taken the prime subject as soon as he’d laid eyes on you.
In his lab, you aren’t seen as anything but a thing that exists only for Dottore’s own gain. If you’re lucky one of his more sympathetic clones might take pity on you and actually give you a day to rest when he’s out of the Palace, but they’re expected to keep up the same treatment he inflicts in his absence.
It was almost sickening to the segments as the watched the fox-human endure soul shaking torture day in and day out. Everything from injections to straight up live surgery to see how much pain the body could take whilst awake had occurred on the cold, steel table. They were often left to clean up the mess, expected to stitch you up, administer antidotes to anything too harmful that had been administered today, and even sometimes bathe you due to the mess that had occurred. You’d been fed little since you arrived, given water only when necessary for your survival, and hadn’t seen sunlight in days- or months maybe? With the sickening way time seemed to pass, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been here. Your only reprieve would be when the doctor left for something more pressing, leaving you in the care of his segments that only sometimes took pity on you. Some seemed to hold a little more humanity than others.
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phantomwitch16 · 2 months
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Hazbin Hotel Theory: Lilith
I had never posted about Hazbin Hotel before, but I came across a theory about Lilith that I wanted to discuss. I’ve only seen clips, so correct me if I'm wrong. So, anyone who hasn't watched anything or hasn't caught up yet, WARNING: SPOILER ZONE.
At this point, everyone is quite aware of the Lilith/ Eve Theory, where Lilith left or was kidnapped by Eve to explain her disappearance for most of the show and what she was doing in Heaven. I think the theory has some promise, but some things don’t feel quite right.
In the episode where Lucifer first appears, we learn that Lilith and Lucifer seem to have split years ago. We don't know how long ago or the circumstances of the separation, with it pretty much up in the air.
It could be possible that Lucifer’s depression could've gotten in the way of their relationship (similar to his relationship with Charlie), causing some friction. This obviously would give Lilith a lot of responsibility, likely to raise Charlie and inspire the denizens of Hell by herself. We don't know much about what Lucifer does most of the time other than making ducks, keeping Lulu World running and wallowing in his depression.
I don't think that they split up, at least I don’t think that’s the whole story. There have been some odd details regarding Lilith and a few other people within the series that do add to the theory. While it's possible things might have changed during the development of the series, Viv has previously stated that Lilith and Lucifer were a very lovey-dovey couple and I doubt that she would change it. While I think their relationship would have its faults, obviously with their history and trauma, yeah, that was going to happen, but not the stereotypically 'my partner hates me' bs.
Even if they had split up, I doubt that Lilith would have just up and left Charlie without saying anything.
But anyway, since her appearance on the beach with Lute, there have been several theories about Lilith and whether she would be an antagonist or the main one. I disagree, but given how she's been pretty much a mystery for most of the series, with not much being said about her, it’s understandable most would come to this conclusion. But I doubt Lilith would be because Lilith was the one to instil Charlie to help the denizens of Hell so for her to come to disrupt her progress with the Hotel.
This obviously leads to the Lilith/Eve Theory people have come up with by what people have seen and picked apart from the show and the cards that people received before it aired. Now people who have watched the show and been on Twiiter/X or any other social media probs already know the theory, but I'll spell it out for those who don't.
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Just before the show aired, people received cards on each character and a few select items in the series. Of these characters was Lilith, but there was something off with it. Instead of seeing a revamp of her original design in the pilot, it's just a close up with her face shadowed.
The image above has Lilith or who we think is Lilith sitting with her hand over her lips and a shadow over her face, only showing a sinister smile. The one thing strikes me about it was the was almost like she know that we know there was something wrong with the image and was telling us to be quiet.
So far in the show, we've only seen her in the portraits that are decorated around the hotel and in Lucifer's ducky workshop. She makes a brief appearance in Charlie’s flashbacks where we don’t even see her face, though this is largely because the attention was focused on Charlie and Lucifer. Here it shows that even her look has remained largely consistent since the pilot.
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What truly defines Lilith design is her long wavy hair. But despite it, there is something different about it in the card. It's very long, obviously but as it gets closer to her face, it starts to look more uneven. Or jagged.
But what grabs the attention in the card is the smile. It looks very sharp and angular, very different to the smile that she has in the portraits and in her depiction on the storybook in the first episode.
But we've already seen it somewhere. Just not on Lilith.
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Obviously, this isn't a new take. This is a very popular take that nearly everyone has heard.
I like to think that with the reveal, we will get a more factual retelling of what happened when Lilith and Lucifer rather than what came out of the story book Charlie was reading, likely something her mother made for her when she was growing up. Mainly what happened to Eve as they cleverly avoided it. While we don't know if they're going to tackle it, it's likely that they will discuss Eve's life after eating the fruit and her very long life. I think that while Adam was sent to heaven to become one of the exterminators, Eve became one of the first original sinners sent to Hell.
There are several ways they could handle it with it's possible the Eve is starting a little bit of chaos using the knowledge Lilith and Lucifer gave her. With Lilith attempting to stop her alongside Lute and the rest of Heaven.
For what reason? She could've taken up a new identity after death. that identity being called Roo. Or more specifically, the Root of All Evil.
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Roo is someone that's been known for since 2019 and someone Viv is excited to introduce since she first drew her, calling her a looming threat amongst the series. Hints of her appearance have been placed throughout the pilot on the tower and on the show. I believe that Lilith, Lute and Eve are working together with Heaven to track down Roo to destroy her hold on Earth or to prevent her from doing something to Hell, Heaven and Earth.
It's also likely that she is the demon Alastor is chained to. Why her specifically and not Lilith? Besides the timeline matching, there is very little opportunity for them to meet. Even though Alastor has made a big name for himself in the Pride Ring, Lucifer has not heard of him, so why would Lilith? But that just might be a Lucifer thing, they probably could've met after one of Lilith's shows or something.
Knowing Alastor as a person, he would've been in a very desperate situation, or maybe he was too cocky like with Adam and picked a fight with her, thinking that she was some random Overlord or low ranking demon who knocked him down and stole his soul. With her having control over him, then he is willing to do anything to get out of their agreement. Whether its to play around and isolate the princess of Hell from her support network, to make her hopes and dreams crumble to dust.
It could be possible Lilith left Charlie and Lucifer to focus on Roo, with it likely that Lucifer knows what's she's up to and tries to shield her from what's happening. But as the hotel gets more popular, Roo's attention is directed to it, thus putting Charlie and all three realms in danger. Lilith would come to Charlie, try to sugarcoat it as best as possible before revealing Roo as a threat. Then when she comes there, Alastor betrays them, but as he is free, has a change of heart and attempts to help.
That's what i think anyway.
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genderkoolaid · 8 months
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Hi!
I (24 nb) am having a serious issue with girls my age being quite misandric and using radfem rhetoric in their speech.
The issue is I understand their fear and mistrust of men in patriarchy and with many of them having horror stories to share about bad heterosexual relationships. But i am deeply uncomfortable with misandry and i don't know how to effectively point out that no it's not good feminism to hate on men.
Do you have any resources you could recommend me to build a good argument? I want to be prepared for this kind of discussion because it keeps happening more and more frequently.
I know it's not the main topic you cover on your blog but as it is closely related to transandrophobia I was hoping you (or your followers) could still give me some advice.
I wish you a wonderful day
My advice would be to start with talking about the negative impact of misandry on women first (although don't use the word misandry, at least at first). Starting off with "it hurts men" in any regard will likely not go over well, but if you first bring up the issue in relation to a group they already really care about, they'll be more likely to listen. Also, I would reaffirm that having trauma or bad associations with men isn't the problem, they aren't obligated to associate with men in ways that make them uncomfortable or exhausted, and that they have a right to feel their emotions, be angry, be annoyed, etc. Affirm that your concern is with how their actions and attitudes could be causing real harm to others, and that anger being valid does not mean you don't need to take responsibility for how you choose to act.
Some potential talking points:
When women are perceived as manly or masculine, they tend to get viewed with the worst traits of masculinity: butches and trans women are seen as aggressive, violent predators who prey on sweet, feminine straight/cis women. The patriarchy doesn't just hurt women through their femininity, but through their (real or perceived masculinity as well.
Even inside queer spaces, butches are expected to fulfill toxic masculinity: they are expected to be sexually dominant tops, not be emotionally or physically "weak," not do feminine things, etc. Butches can get ridiculed by others, even partners, for not fulfilling these things. Things like balding and small penises, that are traditionally seen as failures of masculinity in the patriarchy, are also made fun of in queer spaces; it seems like queer spaces have issues with how they deal with (real or perceived) masculinity.
When spaces make jokes about hating men, put a lot of emphasis on gatekeeping men, etc., it makes it a lot harder for trans women and nonbinary people assigned male feel safe. Some trans women & genderqueers might not realize their gender because they are kept out of spaces that could've helped them realize because of how queer & feminist spaces act regarding men. Butch trans women and genderqueers often face heightened scrutiny because of their masculinity, from both inside and outside their communities. (Also, send them this article.)
^ As a result of all of that, maybe we need to be more careful with how we think and talk about masculinity. It seems like we are reusing a lot of negative patriarchal stereotypes about men & masculinity in ways which hurt marginalized people the most.
From there, you can bring up marginalized men: you can talk about how trans men, multigender/nonbinary men, men of color, Jewish men, fat men, disabled men, etc. are negatively affected by negative patriarchal stereotypes about men & masculinity- I emphasis that because its how I would go about referring to "misandry" or "antimasculism" without actually using a word. Since misandry (and anything that sounds similar) is such a trigger word for many, its important to set the foundation that there is a big difference between the MRA concept of misandry, and the transunitist concept of misandry. Transunitist misandry focuses on how sexism & genderism* is used to target marginalized groups (specifically trans* people). Transunitist misandry does not say that misogyny doesn't exist, or that men are oppressed in the exact same way women are; its saying that the patriarchy (as a part of kyriarchy) uses gender and sex to harm not just marginalized women, but marginalized men too.
My goal with this would be to introduce and try to convince them of the idea that Misandry Is Harmful Maybe, and then once they realize how its harmful, bring up the idea that this kind of stuff needs to be named. Once they generally agree with these ideas, I think it will be much easier to help them understand why misandry is bad even beyond marginalized men: because the patriarchy relies on harmful ideas and expectations for men, even as (dominant/non-marginalized) men have a different place and more rewards; because liberationist feminism must be concerned with universal liberation, and that means it must be concerned with everyone's wellbeing and liberation; because we cannot disnantle the master's house with the master's tools, and letting any patriarchal thinking in poisons the well of your feminist praxis; because it just makes you a meaner and shittier person. In my experience people who think in the ways you described are resistant (not necessarily for bad reasons) to any kind of criticism towards sexism/genderism towards men, so my tactic would be starting with areas (like women) that they are concerned with not hurting and show how misandry hurts that group. Connecting the harm of this way of thinking to something they care about is going to make them more open to seeing it as an issue in general.
*I use "sexism" to describe the system of oppression based on physical sex, and "genderism" to describe the system of oppression based on gender identity/presentation/roles.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 months
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He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Five
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Summary: Taehyung gets careless and breaks your heart yet again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Implied yändere and mentions of signs of trauma because of it. (nothing too extreme) a/n: It's taken me so long to get this chapter out I'm sorryyy but I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for your continued support on my stories and I hope you'll look forward to the next part!
Jungkook's visit last week really had me thinking about the choices I make on the daily. 
I stopped stressing about what Taehyung might be doing when he's away and started thinking about ways I could improve myself.
It wasn't anything major but I wanted to take baby steps.
For instance, setting up a schedule for when I wake up and always making sure to not stay up past midnight. Along with promising myself to at least sit and write for a couple of hours per day but also taking breaks when I felt I needed to. I would come back though and finish only when I was satisfied and came to a proper stopping point.
Implementing these little changes in my life has worked wonders on my confidence and peace of mind. I feel like I'm accomplishing something and getting some sort of fulfillment in the day to day which I haven't been able to say for the past few years.
I guess all of this can be chalked up to Jungkook. 
I know I'm ultimately the one who's implemented these things into my life but if he hadn't given me that push, I don't think I would've ever gotten to even see these small victories.
While I'm in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee I hear a faint chime on my laptop and I smile knowing exactly who it is.
'Good morning Noona, did you sleep well?'  I read from the all too familiar jkjkjk.97  and smile seeing that my suspicions were correct.
'I slept like a baby, who knew going to bed before dawn would do wonders!'  I send back and when I try to stand up to walk back over to the kitchen I'm met with another email popping up from him.
'That's good! I'm happy to see that you're feeling a bit better these days :)'  he sends and I smile at the fact that he's just as eager to reply to me. It's been like this ever since that day he dropped off my groceries. He would send me emails first thing in the morning almost like clockwork.
I'm surprised that he manages to keep a similar schedule to mine but I don't really know what he does most days except work. 
I know he works at the grocery store but it seems to me like he's always working at odd hours. Most days even well past closing so it's got me thinking about what else he could possibly do for a living.
It's none of my business but I can't help but be curious about it since when I ask him how his day went, he usually says he's still working even though it seems like he's been working since dawn. 
I really want to ask him but I don't want to pry. He seems like the kind of guy that keeps to himself and open up when he's ready. 
I'm just hoping that there will come a day where he'll trust me as much as I have grown to trust him.
My thought process his interrupted by the sound of keys jingling in the door and my heart sinks to my stomach when I'm brought back to reality.
"Hey baby" Taehyung greets while taking off his shoes. It's Saturday so he doesn't have work which means he might be hanging around here for a while before no doubt heading out again. 
"Hey" I respond quietly, feeling as though I'm retreating back into myself, not really being able to relax until I know what kind of headspace he's in.
"Where's my welcome home kiss from my gorgeous wife?" he asks while walking over to where I'm sitting at my desk. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, moulding his mouth against mine while I crane my neck up and return the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him connected.
"Welcome home" I let out after he pulls back, panting slightly as he nudges his nose against mine before standing up straight again. "Have you been up long?" he asks, him having gone out late last night and surprisingly turning up here again bright and early.
I hum in acknowledgment, "I've been waking up earlier these days so I can get a jump start on my writing and trying to go to bed earlier" I respond while watching his back as he walks over to the kitchen.
"Oh really? How's that going?" he questions, pouring himself a cup of coffee and walking back into the living room, waiting patiently for my answer. 
"Well it's been nice to implement a bit of a routine since my days and nights have kind of been all over the place for a while. Plus, I feel like this story is really coming along. I even started mapping out ideas for the next book in the series!" I say and he looks at me as if he's almost falling in love with me again, making me shy under his gaze.
"That's amazing honey. I feel like I haven't seen you smiling like this in a really long time. "Looks like all you needed was a little discipline to really get your life back together huh?" he say while giving me a knowing look, cocking his head to the side and letting his eyes roam my body for a second. No doubt looking at the faint bruises he'd left from last week.
"I guess so" I say, awkwardly rubbing my bicep where he had grabbed me. "How are you feeling?" he questions, coming a bit closer and ghosting his fingers over the marks. "I'm fine, they don't hurt as much anymore" I say, slipping my arm out if his grasp.
"That's good, I'm sorry I got a little rough with you. I was frustrated with some work stuff and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair of me" he apologizes while brushing the hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. "It's okay" I say quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze. 
"No, it's not okay" he says tilting my chin up and making me make eye contact.
"I haven't been treating you well and I wanna make it up to you" he says, caressing my face with the hand that he used to tilt my chin up. "Okay" I whisper as he leans down to connect our lips again but before they're able to touch his phone rings. 
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone and the name Tiffany flashes across the screen with a kiss emoji at the end, giving me a name to associate as to why he's actually never home. 
"I've gotta take this" he says and I nod my head to show I don't mind even though my heart is breaking more and more with each ring. He gives me a quick kiss to apologize before answering the call and walking into the kitchen. 
I take that as a sign that he'll be leaving for the night again and head into the bathroom since it's the one place he won't question as to why I've shut him out. I close the lid of the toilet and cover my ears so I can't hear him but curiosity gets the best of me and I hold my breath to see if I can make any words out despite my whole motives of coming here in the first place.
"No I ca-. Well I just got here I-. Okay, okay fine I'm coming. Let me just come up with an excuse to tell her and I'll be there soon. Okay? Alright, love you too. Bye" I hear him say and he ends the call. I cover my mouth, trying to stop any sounds of heartbreak that might come out and listen as he walks down the hall to our room. 
"Y/n? Honey where are you?" he asks, barely bothering to look for me. "I'm in here" I say, turning on the sink to drown out the sound a bit to prevent him from hearing how wobbly my voice sounds from the emotions I'm trying to keep at bay. 
"I've gotta head out for the day but I'll be back tomorrow night. You gonna be okay?" he asks as if he cared about me. "Yeah I'll be fine don't worry, I'll see you then" I yell above the sound and he says a quick goodbye through the door in return and leaves soon after. 
Once I hear the front door close I let some of those choked sobs go.
He's never been that obvious before. Does he just not bother to hide since he sees that I don't question him about it? I don't even know why I still care since it's very clear that he doesn't care about me.
At that I look at my phone and see that there's another email from Jungkook that came in a little while ago which gives me motivation enough to dry my eyes and get myself together so I can head back out to my laptop and get lost in this safe haven we've created for each other. 
'Did you forget about me already?'  he questions, seeing as it has taken me a while to respond. I couldn't risk doing it and Taehyung finding out about us. Even though there is no 'us' when it comes to Jungkook and I, unlike that Tiffany girl he just left me for today.
'I'm sorry Taehyung came home. He just left though...'  I send and get a response back immediately, seeing he's been waiting for my response.
'Are you okay? Did something happen?'  he asks and I smile at the thought that there is someone out there that cares enough to ask. 
We've been emailing each other everyday since he came over and I've opened up to him a bit more about my relationship with Tae and he's been really good at just letting me talk and just being there for me. Always talking me through things and helping me process no matter if it's problems with Tae or even other more mundane things like writer's block. 
He's just there, no matter what.
'Can we meet up today?' I type out but hesitate, letting my hand hover over the mouse. 
Watching, waiting, worrying about if this would be a good idea but before making that decision myself I accidentally hit send when I try to put my hand down to rest it on my lap. 
"Shit" I say out loud but before I can figure out how to unsend the message I get a response back. 
'Sure :) Did you want to meet at the Blue Pearl? Or should I come over?'  he asks and I hold my breath, weighing the pros and cons to this whole situation and decide to just say fuck it and do what I want for once. 
'Can you come over?'  I send and close my laptop, too nervous to look at his reply. "What the fuck am I doing inviting a younger guy to my apartment when my husband is gone? What am I doing?" I say out loud and pace back and forth until I hear the chime come from my phone this time. 
'Be there soon :)'  "I'm fucked" I admit out loud before running around and quickly getting myself and the house ready.
 ~~~~~
A rhythmic pattern of knocks plays and puts my mind at ease while I walk towards the door and open it. 
"Noona!" he greets with a smile before giving me a hug that catches me off guard making me take a step back to help me stay balanced. "Thank you for coming" I say while returning his embrace and letting go a second later so I can step aside to let him in. 
"Are you okay?" he asks after having taken off his shoes and taken in my form to what I don't realize is to look for any signs of harm. "Yes I'm fine" I say with a sad smile yet know for a fact that even if I try to deny it he can read me like a book. 
"Then why were you crying?" he asks, looking at my red eyes and flushed cheeks. "I heard Tae talking to one of the girls he's cheating on me with" I mumble and at that Jungkook takes my hand and leads me over to the couch without saying a word.
"He didn't even try hard to hide it. Like he has a stupid kiss emoji next to her name and everything. He had only been here for like twenty minutes tops before he left" I spill out. He keeps a hold of my hand, looking down at it while I let out all the things I've been holding in. 
The worries, the doubts, the fear, the stress. I don't know when it started and I can't figure out how to make it stop. 
"I don't know what to do" I admit, looking down at my lap, watching as the tears fall from my eyes and onto the fabric of my jeans. 
"Do you want me to be honest and tell you what I think or do you want me to just listen?" he asks, rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Be honest?" I pose almost as a question, knowing this is the ugly truth I've been hiding from. 
"Can you tell me more than one reason as to why you should stay with him? Besides him being your husband" he asks, sitting silently and waiting for me to respond, giving me time to think it through but when I shake my head he goes forward with posing his argument. 
"If you can't manage to come up with a reason as to why you should stay with him then what's keeping you from leaving? I know you said that you're scared and you don't know what to do but the fact that you're not doing anything is hurting you more than if you decided to leave him" he states, I just nod my head and listen, letting him say his piece.
"He's hurting you. He's hurting you physically" he says while ghosting his fingers along the bruises that run up my arm, "Mentally" he continues brushing the hair off of my face and rubbing his thumb up against my temple "And sexually" he finishes, taking note of the hickeys and the way I flinch away from him when he tries to lay his hand on my neck. 
"That's just how Taehyung is, he likes things rough" I say, making excuses for the marks that are clearly beyond rough sex. 
"But do you like it?" he questions, catching me off guard with an intimacy of the question. "He keeps me satisfied if that's what you mean" I answer curtly, hoping he'll take that as an answer. 
"That's not what I asked. Do you enjoy the way he has sex with you? Is that how you want to have sex?" he continues, not backing down from getting an answer out of me. I look up at him to see if he's seriously asking me that question and all I can see is a serious expression on his face.
"I don't mind it" I say, dancing around my answer. "Noona" he warns in a tone of voice he's never used with me, catching me off guard. 
"N-no. No I don't like it. It's too rough for me and I don't like it" I admit. He nods, casting his eyes down as if he's lost in thought before asking his next question. "Have you ever told him?" he questions and I shake my head only to realize moments later that he can't see me. "No I haven't told him" I respond quietly and he nods again before looking back up at me. 
"Why?" he asks and I'm left with one answer. "Because I'm afraid of what he might do to me if I say no" I explain. "I figure it's better to say yes and take it instead of saying no and having him force himself on me" I cover my mouth not realizing the fact that I said the thing that I was even too afraid to admit to myself.
"Has he ever forced himself on you?" he asks while clenching his jaw, clearly upset at the thought. "I didn't tell him no but I tried to make him see that I didn't want it but he didn't care to pay attention" I answer, getting rid of the filter seeing as it won't do either of us any good if I were to hold back. 
"That's one of the many reasons that you shouldn't even be with him anymore" he starts, his whole body tense, anger just bubbling under the surface. "You shouldn't have to be with someone you're scared of. I just don't kno-" 
"That's just it, you don't know. You told me that before, that I shouldn't be with someone that I'm scared of but you just don't get it. You've never been married. You've never had to deal with struggles like this. You make it sound so easy, that I could just leave and never look back but it's not that simple" I spout off, defending myself and my decisions. 
"Noona I just want to he-" "I know, I know" I say cutting him off but gaining a softer tone at the end, shrinking back into myself, ridding myself of my defensive behavior. "I'm sorry Jungkook, I shouldn't have said that. I asked you to come over and then I just yelled at you and I just..." I trail off, hating myself for doing that to him.
He tilts my head up and looks at me, studying my features and I cast my eyes down, too nervous to maintain his strong gaze. "Look at me" he says in a soft tone but I keep my eyes down, focused on my hands that I have balled into fists. 
"Look at me, please..." he whispers and at that I decide to do as he says and I see how his eyes have glossed over, the stars in them wavering. "He doesn't deserve you" he whispers cupping my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone to brush off a tear that I didn't even realize had fallen. 
"I don't know what to do" I let out in a choked sob, letting the tears that I've been holding in fall, never letting myself cry enough to feel better. He pulls me in and I latch onto him, burring my face into his shoulder as he holds onto me tighter, further showing me that I'm safe with him. 
"Whatever you need I'm here for you. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it" he says, the deep rumble of his voice brings me comfort. "I-" I start but cut myself off with another sob. "It's okay, just let it all out" he says and cling to him harder. 
After having sat there and cried with him for what felt like hours my sobs slowly die down to sniffles and my breathing patterns return to normal. "You okay?" he questions, more so asking if I had finished crying versus how I'm feeling about my current reality. I nod my head but nuzzle in closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet. 
"What's wrong?" he questions. "I don't want you to see my face" I complain into his shirt and he laughs at (from his perspective) how adorable I am. "Aw come on why not?" he chuckles and I nuzzle my face into his neck, making skin to skin contact without paying any mind to it. "My face is probably all red and my eyes are puffy from crying" I mumble against his neck. 
His body goes stiff but I don't take too much notice and move a bit closer to him, not realizing how I'm making him feel and only realize it after he clears his throat a few times. "Is something wrong?" I ask finally taking in how uncomfortable he seems. 
"No, nothing's wrong I just- no it's nothing" he says trying to backpedal out of this. "It's obviously something if you're reacting like that" I press, wanting him to be as truthful with me as I have been with him. 
"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" I say, pulling away from him. "No! Noona no, it's just that. Your lips were on my neck and you were really close and..." he trails off, hoping that's explanation enough. 
"I didn't even realize I was doing that, I'm sorry..." I trail off as well, hating that I made this situation even more awkward than it already is. "It's okay Noona I just, well I just want to make sure we don't cross a line and it was making it hard for me to do so" he explains.
"What do you mean by that?" I ask, wanting to know exactly what he's thinking. "It's just, well you're married and I think you know that I'm attracted to you by now so it was just making it hard for me to think straight" he admits and I nod my head and look down at my lap, not really knowing how I'm supposed to respond. 
"I hope this doesn't change things between us. I really do want to be your friend but I understand if I've made you uncomfortable. I just thought you should know" he finishes and waits with bated breath for my response. 
"Would things be different?" I question, not fully asking the question since I'm not sure if I want to know the answer. "Would things be different if what?" he presses. "Would things be different if I wasn't married?" I ask and I close my eyes, scared of seeing his reaction. 
"You can't just ask me that" he says and I look up at him to see his face turned away, showing how pink the tips of his ears have gotten and how his jaw is clenching. "Why not?" I press, needing to know based off of the kind of reaction he's giving me. 
"You don't know how hard I've been holding myself back" he says and tongues his cheek, making me widen my eyes at the motion. "Holding yourself back from what?" I press further, needing to know what's running through his mind right now. 
"From kissing you" he says, finally looking back at me, making eye contact before his eyes flicker down to my lips. "I-" "I should go" he says, cutting me off before I can say anything further. "Wait, no you don't have to go. I'm sorry" I say, trying my best to keep him here. I can't let him just run off after a confession like that but he's giving me no other option as I watch him stand up. 
"You have nothing to apologize for Noona. I shouldn't have said that. I do have to go though, my family is waiting for me back at home" he says and I widen my eyes, never having heard him talk about his family as of yet. 
"Family?" I question, my curiosity peaked. "Yeah I live with my mom and my three siblings" he says while walking over to put his shoes on. "Three?" I question and he nods his head not bothering to give me much more than that. 
"That's a topic of conversation for another time though" he says after he stands back up from tying his laces. "Oh okay" I say and hug myself, providing myself some comfort, hating to see him rushing out of here already. 
"They really are waiting for me. My mom has to work tonight so I'm stuck taking care of the kiddos" he says, giving me a soft smile before turning to open the door and I follow behind him. 
"Let me know when you get home okay?" I say, leaning up against the door frame. "I will" he says and reaches out to pull me in for a hug, accepting it right away. 
"I still want you in my life so please, don't disappear" I mumble into his chest and he hums in acknowledgment. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Not after I fought for that title of best friend" he says pulling back and looking down at me fondly and I smile back up at him before he places a hand on the side of my neck and leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.
"Bye Noona" he says, giving me a soft smile. I smile back up at him and return his sentiment before he turns to walk away.
I watch as he goes, waiting for him to get in his car where he looks back up towards my apartment, not expecting to see me waiting for him but smiles when he does. I smile back and wave and watch as he pulls out of his spot and makes his way out of the parking lot. 
"I'm really fucked" I mumble to myself and turn to walk inside my apartment. 
"He gets more and more handsome each time I see that young man" Mrs. Mitchell says, making me jolt back from the scare of being caught. 
"Mrs. Mitchell we didn't-" I start but she waves me off. "You don't need to make excuses to me love. Like I said last time, I wouldn't blame you if you did" she says and places a hand on my arm, noticing all the mixed emotions I have written all over my face. 
"Why don't we change the subject and have you sign those books we had spoken about the other day" she says, turning to walk towards the stack she had waiting by her front door like she had told me she would. 
I smile at her enthusiasm for my writing and and am thankful that she doesn't address what had happened between Jungkook and I anymore. 
"There you go" I say putting the cap on the pen and handing the last book back to her. "Thank you dear! The girls are going to love these!" she says placing the books back in their place. "Girls?" I question, chuckling at her reaction, so happy a simple thing like this could make her happy. 
"Yeah! The other women in my book club. I recommended your books to them and they've been begging me to get them a signed copy from you ever since" she says, turning back to face me. "Well I hope they enjoy them!" I reply happily, embarrassed still that woman of their age are reading it but thankful nonetheless. 
"We're all meeting together here next Sunday so maybe if you're not too busy writing you could stop by and have tea with us. I just know they would love to meet you!" she says, practically glowing with excitement. 
"I'll have to get back to you on that one but it sounds lovely" I smile, my heart swelling at the thought of meeting some of my readers. "Wonderful! But I'll let you get back to your day dear. Make sure to set aside some time to take care of yourself and relax tonight okay? You deserve it" she says placing a comforting hand on my arm before we both go our separate ways. 
As I close the door behind me I'm met with that all too familiar chime and I walk over to my desk, this time a bit more tentative than before, being nervous as to what I might find from my familiar friend jkjkjk.97
Home :) is all he sends but I decide to respond, nervous of the result if I don't, scared that he might shut me out or fade away.
Have fun with the kiddos tonight! And thank you for coming today, it really meant a lot to me  I send back, hoping to make things sound normal.
Anytime, let's see each other again soon. Okay?  he asks and I can tell he's waiting earnestly for a response. 
Okay. This time at The Blue Pearl so we can say 'Hi' to Rae. I miss her :(   I say, hoping that he won't take that as a way of me keeping him from coming over when I really do miss Rae. 
The Pearl it is! Goodnight Noona he says, ending the conversation early tonight, no doubt having a lot to do to manage three kids for the night. 
Goodnight Jungkook  I send and close my laptop, vowing to do as I had agreed upon and take the rest of the day to take care of myself. 
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inbarfink · 8 months
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Goddam, just seeing Simon in these last two episodes is really flooding me with so many conflicting emotions.
Because, on the one hand, after his lowest point in Episode 4 - resigning himself to death in the hands of the Scarab - he’s clearly finally doing better. Just look at him making plans
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And showing off his smarts
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And finally genuinely smiling and feeling happy
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And being so glad to meet the alt versions of his friends
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And getting excited about his nerdy shit for the first time in glob-knows-how-long
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And cracking goofy geeky jokes
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And offering others the same grace and kindness he was given when he was trapped under the curse of the Magic Crown
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And trying to be comforting and fatherly and give Fionna advice and cheer her up
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He’s so clearly doing a lot better now, he’s rediscovering aspects of himself that his depression has torn away from him, he found a meaning and purpose in his life again. And it should warm my heart, and on some level it does....
But it also sends a chill down my spine knowing that this purpose that brought back the light into Simon’s eyes, the purpose he finally found is sacrificing his mind and identity again for the sake of Fionna’s happiness and her world.
He’s throwing himself right back into the miserable existence and the trauma he tries so hard to move forward from. He’s dooming himself because he honestly believes now that he’s always going to be miserable and lonely and fucked up so he might as well have be the kind of miserable and fucked up that is not lucid enough to know how miserable he is all of the time. The kind of misery that at least fits into his world.
Because he started to romanticize being the Ice King in a twisted kinda way, and now he has found the excuse to turn it into a selfless, noble act. Because the only way he feels like he’s useful and like he has worth is by protecting and helping and sacrificing himself for the sake of others.
(And like, especially in light of how he was trying to resign himself to death just moments before coming up with his plan. Not to get extremely dark, but.... suicidal people often seem to ‘get better’ just before the try to kill themselves. Because they feel like they’re finally ‘doing something’ and their misery is almost over. That kinda feels what Simon is going through right now? Becoming the Ice King again is not literally death, but it is a sort of death for Simon Petrikov’s identity.)
And this new sense of purpose in saving Fionnaworld by dooming himself is clearly blinding Simon to so many obviously telegraphed signs that this is a horrible idea.
He saw hints of just how badly Farmworld Finn has been dealing with his own Magic Crown Related Trauma
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and maybe if things would’ve been different this could’ve been something they could have commiserated over. Simon could’ve had someone who understood a bit of what he has gone through, and seeing a version of Finn, of all people, face similar struggles - maybe could’ve helped him feel a little less Uniquely and Irredeemably Fucked Up. (For bonus points, they're ALSO both dealing with the grief of losing their Significant Other)
But his newfound obsession that Everything Will Be Better Once He’s Cursed again was making him totally ignore all of this.
And then there’s their little adventure in the Winter Kingdom. Which had both the Candy Queen/Princess Bubblegum as a perfect reminder of the suffering and pain involved in being trapped in the Madness of the Magic Crown
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And the Winter King as a reminder of the harmful and twisted things he was capable of doing as the Ice King.
But instead he basically refused to learn any lesson from that Universe that’s not just ‘Fuck That Version of Me Specifically’ and tried to advice Fionna to do the same.
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But well, while I am still worried about Simon’s mental state, his improved disposition does give me a little bit of hope. Hope that maybe he himself will notice that he is doing better and won’t be quite so eager to sacrifice his own sanity. Or maybe more likely, hope that now that he’s not just a miserable sadman screaming at their faces
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Fionna and Cake are growing to appreciate Simon Petrikov for who he is and will simply refuse to let him sacrifice himself for their sake. Because, yeah, Simon tried to tell Fionna to not worry about all of that Winter Kingdom stuff, that it was just that Simon was ‘messed up’ - but since when does Fionna Campbell do what she’s told?
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candeathbereal · 3 months
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Small Astro observations
-Sun conjunct ascendant in synastry is an odd moment for me. Mostly cause as a Leo rising I have met some Leo suns and I have no bad blood for them. It just feels weird because most times the Sun person will mimic the ascendant person in some way. From what I’ve noticed at least. Maybe my Uranus being in my seventh house has a mild affect because Aquarius is all about uniqueness or something along those lines. So naturally I can enjoy the idea of someone doing/acting similar to me but not enough to make a bond with a person. Idk it feels odd for me at least. Other people enjoy it though but maybe it’s just my ego talking idk.
-Pisces suns from what I have seen have either sleepy eyes or something distinct about their teeth. Some people have said that Pisces have fish teeth but that isn't all they can have. Idk I've noticed that most Pisces I have met can have fish like teeth but overall their teeth just has something distinct about them. For instance, my dad has almost no teeth but still chooses to eat steak and all that even though it doesn't seem that easy for him to do. I also think it's the Taurus moon and mars that adds to his stubbornness. You could read this observation for either tropical or sidereal since I've seen the same with some Aries suns (tropical). I myself am an Aries sun but Pisces sun in sidereal and I have a lazy eye and some interesting teeth imo. Mostly cause I have two sharp teeth kinda where you would see vampire fangs but I have a similar moment with two bottom teeth like directly below my other two teeth. There is just a odd sharpness to them that my other teeth don't have. Plus I have always had problems with my teeth to the point that apparently at the age of 12 I had to get most of my back teeth removed (they were baby teeth so they grew back).
-3rd house synastry creates more of a sibling like bond with a person or that person could remind you of one of your siblings (depends on you I guess idk how many siblings people have so yeah). Whereas 4th house synastry has more of a likelihood to remind you of a general family member as opposed to one of your siblings or just a sibling in general. I've noticed that 4th house synastry causes an emotional comfort where you can talk about your trauma or just childhood in general with someone one, but 3rd house synastry is more like a weird assumption that you don't really have to talk about that because somehow it is just accepted that you know it. Again kinda like a sibling moment cause most times you don't have to have deep talks about your childhood with your siblings (at least for me most times). Funnily enough I have fourth house synastry with both my sister and one of my brothers (I have my moon in my sister's fourth house whereas my brother has his moon in my fourth house), so we do have those talks about our trauma and such. Honestly I have always felt more close (emotionally) with them than my own parents. It's an interesting bond for sure for me. I feel very lucky that I have that bond with my siblings.
-6th house synastry is a moment to live through because it can manifest differently based on the planet. I think moon in sixth house causes the most mixed reactions to each other, because the sixth house is all about routine and service. So the moon being there causes a emotional bond for each other through service towards each other. Although it does depend on other aspects of the synastry most times it's a mutual I help you you help me kinda vibe to it. I think it can work out but both parties would have to have some level of emotional maturity or even just a lack of Pluto influence. It's not like it can't work out with Pluto influence but it just would take a lot more work since Pluto is a little cunt who likes messing around with shit so the emotions get fucked around with the most. I can't blame Pluto too much for it since it is a planet all about transformation and obsession and people can control their own actions. Take what you can from what I said.
Anyways I haven't posted in a while so I figured I'd do that real quick cause it would feel wrong not to. I would love to hear you guy's thoughts on this or even anything at all. Feel free to message me for any questions you might have. I can't guarantee anything great or even smart. A veces no tengo sentido. Todavia estoy aprendiendo espanol asi que pido disculpas por mi mal espanol
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findafight · 1 year
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Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.
They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.
And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.
So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.
And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.
I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"
And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)
She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."
Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.
"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."
He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."
"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."
"thanks Robin."
"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.
"or used the bonesaw"
"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."
He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.
Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.
It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.
"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"
Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.
"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."
"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."
"mmhmm"
Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"
Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.
"yeah, duh."
"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."
Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"
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valen-nidk · 28 days
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Bugambilia. | One-sided Eve!Reader x Lucifer.
Content: Hurt no comfort. Low self-steem Eve!Reader, mentions of Lilith and Adam, lingering feelings, longing Eve!Reader.
Eve!Reader and Lucifer reuniting in Hell after years of Eve!Reader hiding, generosity of the extermination that had forced them to come out from hiding.
But it's not a warm welcome or even a meeting that either of them was looking forward to — Eve!Reader who has hiding their face behind a mask, quite similar to that LED one that Adam wore. Their posture stiff, even defensive with wings expressing their discomfort.
Lucifer who awkwardly rubbed his arm at the sight of someone's spouse that he stole out of pettiness? To prove a point? He didn't love Eve as stealing her, erh, them away from Adam had been a power move to one up the first man, and... well, he wasn't sure they were Eve anymore. The consequences of his own actions that he hadn't thought throughly before acting on them.
"You uh, you look great, Eve!", the King of Hell itself was not one with social skills, it seemed. Partially amused, partially disgusted and beyond pissed off at his words, (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes had shifted to red demonic ones the iris turning into a slit akin to a snake's reptile eyes.
"Don't call me that", a sharp glare at his direction, their voice having dropped a few notes lower as a clear signal of disgust at being referred with their deadname before shutting their eyes, taking a deep breathe and composing themselves. "And thanks, I guess. The trauma helped with the style", a low-blow to their own self-steem but it was worth it, at least for (Y/N) since they got to see Lucifer flinch at the memory, guilt crawling his skin and he was clearly uncomfortable — though their eyes stared up and down at the powerful figure before them.
A pained smile curved their lips as their previously venomous glare had softened into a recluctant loving one, approaching the same-height demon, though for (Y/N)... Lucifer was still quite a beautiful angel, even if he had fallen from grace — ever so mesmerizing, so awkward and adorable. So beautifully and undeniably human. "Now you... You look as beautiful as the last time I saw you back in Eden", Lucifer was visibly shaken at that, flustered at such unexpected compliment. It seemed like he didn't get those often, or perhaps, he was uneasy that it was them who complimented him.
It woudn't be weird, moreso because Lucifer had basically ghosted them after making Adam and Eve get kicked out of Eden. Lilith was and... still is, more important for him. For both Adam and Lucifer while (Y/N) was blending with the background.
Ah, God was cruel with them.
"I... thanks uh, so... Hell! What brings you to Hell? No actually, don't answer that— fuck, stupid...", he trailed off, hitting his forehead with his hand. Somehow, that awkwardness and lack of social awareness was adorable, making (Y/N) chuckle softly. In the past, it had been them the ones who'd be stuttering unable to come up with something witty to say while Lucifer waited with a patient smile curving his lips. Oh, how the roles had reversed.
"I have been here ever since I died, you know how He had never favoured me. It was only Adam this, Lucifer that... Lilith...", her name was enough to make Lucifer bit his lower lip and look away. Ah, so that was it... He still loved her.
You were never important, Eve.
"I had been wandering Hell with no place to call home", they bit their tongue to stop themselves from saying anything unnecessary, like deals they had made and souls they owned. A wanderer yet a powerful one. "I didn't think I'd cross paths with you". Not now, nor ever. "What about you..? I thought you became an hermit".
"Haha well ah, stuff happened and I have been helping my daughter rebuilt her hotel and — right, have you heard of my daughter? Surely, you must have! She has this idea and...", he rambled, his facade softening and his smile seemed genuine as he used some of his magic to make a projection, a drawing in the air of what Charlie had planned. He spoke, they listened in an absent manner as their gaze lingered elsewhere.
At the distance, (e/c) eyes widened slightly at the sight of the Princess of Hell. Not like Lucifer could have noticed due to the mask they wore. Charlie was just like her father, almost not a single trace of Lilith herself. The realization was a bit funny, truly, how their children seemingly took after themselves: Cain had looked like them but Abel was a mixture of Adam and themselves. Mostly Adam.
"She has your eyes, full of hopes and dreams", (Y/N) said in a soft spoken tone, making Lucifer cease his talk and look at them with shock. "I wonder how either of my boys are...", they trailed off, unable to finish that thought and Lucifer didn't ask or press for more.
Clearing his throat to break that heavy silence and awkward atmosphere, Lucifer looked at them with a certain understanding feeling. "If you have nowhere to go, ah...".
"(Y/N)".
"Lovely name. As I was saying, (Y/N), if you have nowhere to go then... My daughter's hotel will welcome you".
"Mm, that's assuming she'll let me in. And... I appreciate the offer, I'll consider it".
"Yeah so uh, I'll...", pointing behind himself at the hotel, Lucifer averted his gaze as he tried to come up with something to say, to bid his farewell.
(E/c) eyes observed the fallen angel standing before them, shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly wanting to escape this situation as gentlemanly as possible. "You were never good with goodbyes, go now, I'm sure your daughter does miss you".
Without any more to say, or any delay. He left and (Y/N) stood there, watching Lucifer leave them once again without even bothering to look back.
Though their sadness was shortlived, a static noise in the background being an annoyance, causing (Y/N) to frown and shut their eyes, right hand raising to rub their temple as they turned on their heels. "Yes, yes... I'll leave now".
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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months
Text
the lakes (5) // finnick odair x f. reader
summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.
previous chapter / next chapter
midnight rain
2.3k words
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warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism bc haymitch is there, brief drinking, allusions to death and violence, rebellion planning, allusions of trafficking/sexual trauma, wanting children, mentions of birth control and class divide, terms of endearment, mental illness, manipulation of someone's feelings, self-hatred, mentions of nausea and allusions to puking, reader being utterly enamored by Finnick, unedited, no use of Y/N
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Harsh wind made your body shake and Finnick immediately wrapped his arms around you. How he always felt like a furnace was something you'd accepted you'd never have the answer to and you gratefully relaxed into him.
“Oh look, I just happened to run into you two on the roof, a happy couple just relaxing while they still can." Haymitch's voice pierced the air billowing around you.
“What a coincidence.” Finnick took a step closer to where Haymitch was approaching.
"Gives us a perfect chance to talk about allies though.” Your voice was loud enough that if anyone was listening they would be sure to hear your completely pure intentions with a mentor right before everyone's voices conveniently took the octave and pitch down.
“After this there's not opting out, so I need to know that you're 100% on board. You could be killed if this gets found out." Haymitch fiddled with his flask.
“We're already going to be killed, at least this way there's a chance we can stay together and end all of this." He stood close enough now that your soft voice could only be heard within the earshot. Finnick squeezed your hand softly.
Haymitch nodded, “Beetee is in on it too, so is Wiress, but who knows how much of a help she'll be. Plutarch can give us insight into small things before the Games start, but the main point will be finding away for enough chaos to happen that we can get Katniss out of there.”
“So our job is to get her to trust us, protect her and Peeta so she sticks to the plan that will get her out." Subconsciously Finnick began tapping his fingers on your waist and you rubbed your thumb in circles across his hand to try and soothe whatever it was his mind was running on about.
“Yes and we might need to find a way to force that because you weren't doing a great job on that, darling. I can't blame you though, she can be quite difficult.” Haymitch took a swig from the flask, you could only imagine how burning cold the metal must have been. Then he was pointing at you, "The princess here might actually have more luck since in an ever so contradictory way she's less gaudy.” Finnick scoffed. "She'll just have to get over preconceived notions first which isn't usually easy. Going over tributes though the problem would be you as a package deal, so we might have to find a way to force her to ally with everyone anyways.”
Slowly, Finnick nodded, “We should tell Johanna, she'll definitely be determined even if she doesn't get Katniss’ trust right away."
Haymitch laughed slightly, “Oh I think she's already left quite the impression." You could only imagine what Johanna had done and you smiled, her blunt attitude had immediately drawn you to her and it helped that her strategy was slightly similar to yours as far as the tears went.
“You go, it'll look like you're trying to figure out alliances and not be as suspicious, if they are watching." You kissed Finnick's cheek and reluctantly pushed away from his comforting arms.
"Okay, I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too bad.” He began stepping away so slowly as if he wanted to stay too, which you couldn't imagine why you had to have made his internal heater freeze with every touch.
“Oh I already do." He smirked and you walked over the cement bench, patting on it as Haymitch sat down by you. He held his arm out, offering the flask he was holding. You thought about it for a second, but accepted the offer. Earlier assumptions were correct, the metal was so cold it burned the lips right before the alcohol did. “What is that?" You scrunched your nose, handing it back to him.
Haymitch chuckled, shaking his head. “One of their wild, Capitol creations." He shrugged slightly, the idea of carrying a drink around that you couldn't even name just to numb the pain made your head ache for the victor. “So you tied the knot away from all the pomp and pageantry?"
"They can't have all of me.” Even if they have most of me, went unsaid into the crisp night air. Your body, your tears, what you could give, the raw, violent parts of you forever memorialized for eternity. Now parts of the private ceremony would be exploited, but the moment could never, only the parts you chose to reveal. It was yours.
“Good for you." He took another drink. “They can only take so much from us, they have to know this was bound to happen." You hummed a yes and reached your hand out which he filled with the cold flask, you took another drink that stung your throat before returning it.
“I don't know how people can have kids when the world is like this." You muttered, looking out at the city below. So badly you wanted a family, Finnick would be a great father, but it seemed impossible to fathom when at any second, for years on end they could be ripped away to be publicly executed for entertainment. If they even managed to survive, horrors lay beyond that, you would never wish for your children to live in a world where they went through what you did.
He shook his head, “Desperation, extra hands, not everyone has fancy Capitol provided ways to prevent pregnancy, Princess."
"Yeah.” You were all too familiar with that. Rich men rarely wanted the possibility of a kid running around with a second-class being even if she was a victor and you took every precaution possible as the fear ate you up inside. They could steal away your body, your intimacy, how you felt with yourself, but if you did escape all of this the only kids you would be having would be yours and Finnick. You wouldn't let them own you in that aspect too. “She's lucky she and Peeta came off as such a strong case of star crossed lovers, it's saved her in and out of the arena. Saved both of them.” Blankly staring at the stars, too beautiful to shine on such a cruel world.
“That she is. My so-called defiance lost me everything, everyone and she managed to be so popular that they couldn't do that. It's why we stand a chance, princess.”
You stood up, "I'd wish you a goodnight, but that rarely happens.” You smiled, sadness tainting your eyes.
Haymitch shook the flask, "If it works right, I won't remember a thing.” He said it so sardonically it weighed down your very being. This is what the Capitol did to its child winners, fractured them into being blackout drunk to dodge the nights full of horror.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You sat on the hallway floor, it's carpet itching your skin as you sat there, head on Conway’s shoulder.
“The outfits were so ridiculous, dressing us like prize pigs." He seethed, “Not you I mean though, you didn't look like a pig, the blue looked nice on you-" Conway started rambling to make up for his initial words and you pressed a finger to his soft lips.
"I know what you mean.” You smiled, so softly it looked enamored with his stumbling. It was cute, but not like your Finnick's sureness in all he said. No, not your Finnick, not anymore he was just Finnick, the mentor, the guy from the past. Oh, how you craved his touch, the smell of his salty skin, the sound of his honey like voice. You scolded yourself, now wasn't the time, it couldn't be. You couldn't risk Conway being able to tell if you were thinking about the other man, as if he could somehow read your mind, nevertheless it was too risky.
“Thank you for always understanding me, you've always been so sweet since we were children, it's what made me want to be your friend in the first place and then-" He paused, then your lover is what he was holding back. You knew this, his sister had told you once back when you were with Finnick, how jealousy was eating Conway’s sweet soul alive. “Then made my family love you too."
It was like an arrow in your heart, you weren't sweet, it was more harrowing that he thought so. Your brain encouraged you to persist even though the echoes muttered back how much you should loathe yourself. “No, you're the sweet one. Always covering for me." You shook your head, keeping the smile glued on your face. His hand was suddenly on your chin, trying to guide you in. His fingers were slightly calloused but there were no sparks, like when Finnick even brushed his atoms into the same vicinity as yours. You leaned in slightly, eyes searching him as if you wanted to know if he really wanted this, of course you knew the answer though. His lips pressed themselves to yours, he tasted just as he sounded, like strawberries and you did like strawberries of course, but not as much as a raw honeycomb.
Just as quickly he pulled away, “I'm sorry." Conway’s voice spilled out, “I don't know what I was thinking, I know you still have him and all, I just I don't know." He shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands, combing them through his hair anxiously.
“He's a jerk." He was, but in the best and worst way. “I don't know what I saw in him." You shook your head, sadly staring at the carpet. Urging the tears to present themselves to help cover your lies because you knew exactly what you still saw in him, his humor, his protection, the warmth, and the absolute love and care he exuded with each look, each graze of his fingertips. “Especially when-" You acted like you were getting choked up on your confession, you disgusted yourself.
Conway’s fingertips were tilting your head back up to him once again, “Really?" His eyes were eager, so innocent. You had to stop your resilience from breaking, from halting the whole operation. “Do you really mean that because I have for so long and please be honest?"
You were nauseous. Trying not to start gagging on nothing as you nodded. "Of course I do, I just didn't see what's been right in front of me.” He kissed you again and it was overwhelming your senses. Not in the way Finnick did which made you buzz, in a way that made you want to run. When he finally pulled away you forced yourself to let out a sly smile as you began standing. "I'll see you in the morning, we should sleep before all the training tomorrow, making impressions with the other tributes.”
His smile was shy and his eyes were basically begging you to stay with him another night, to hold you. It would certainly help your plan, but you couldn't. It was already too much and you needed senses knocked back into you before you broke. "Goodnight, sleep well." Conway whispered, slowly letting his fingers part from yours as he turned down the hallway. You'd been just outside of your room so you walked to it and opened it right before closing it to make it sound like you'd gone in before making a beeline in the opposite direction for Finnick's. Vainly trying to hold back the dry heaving.
Ever so softly your fists knocked on the door and almost instantly it was open, like he was waiting, like he knew you would be coming. Before another second could pass you'd thrown yourself into the protection of his arms and were weeping.
“I'm a terrible person." You choked out as he carefully shut the door with his foot, wrapping his arms around you even tighter like a blanket.
“No you're not an angel, it's survival of the fittest." He kissed the top of your forehead burying himself in it.
"Oh God, I'm gonna be sick.” He instantly led you to the bathroom where you were in fact. He didn't leave you though, he pulled out some medicine to soothe your stomach and head. Handing you a glass of water as he soothingly had his hand on the top of your head, stroking your hair. Once you've finished he was brushing your teeth for you.
It should be pathetic to have someone doing that for you, but not when it was him just trying to keep you secure. “Gotta open wider, angel." He was diligent and precise before helping pull you up from the edge of the tub to the sink. “Okay now spit. Let's get you into bed, sweet girl."
“Thank you, I'm sorry." You muttered out, voice raspy.
“Don't ever be." His warm hands tilted your chin up in a way that melted you into his touch like sugar in tea. “Look at me. You're doing what it takes to survive, which you deserve to do, I'm just doing what you deserve." Your Finnick could make you fall into tears every time, healing the patches of the broken heart you had from the way you were using Conway. “Let's get you to bed." He began to walk out of the bathroom and you softly put your hand on the one trailing away.
"Finnick.” Your voice was tender but the air was so stagnant it felt booming to your ears. He turned to look at you, worry evident. "Can I stay? Please?” Finnick smiled so sympathetically it made your head feel better, like it would float away instead.
"Of course, my love, you can always stay with me, I'll always stay with you.” As you crawled into the sheets that he'd of course emanated his soothing heat onto you knew it was true. Just as you knew you'd always stay with him.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
thank you so much for reading! literally y'all's comments make my heart so happy and my passion for continuing to write this skyrockets, you are all so incredibly kind and supportive 💕 as always if you enjoyed feedback, likes, reblogs, comments are all so appreciated and my asks are open bc I think about this series all the time. I love you guys and thank you again sm 💋
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madnessandentropy · 6 months
Text
Catra's Abuse of Adora Has No Excuse
I know this is an old series. I know a lot of people don't believe in talking negatively about shows that have already ended and that it doesn't matter anymore.
But it matters to me.
Because spop has framed the abuse victim in this story as the idiot and the one in the wrong, the one who should've just stayed with her abuser and never "left" her, while the abuser gets off scott free and likely continues her actions.
Victim blaming very and real and prevalent, forgiving or defending abusers in real life is very real and prevalent.
This is an important thing to call out and discuss because what you put in your creations affects reality.
Spop IS a kids show, and kids often accept what they're exposed to as the norm or as something to copy. You can't just sweep it under the rug, saying it's just a show.
So that's why I want to talk about Catra and why all the trauma in the world does not sxcuse abusing your partner, or at the very least should not frame your partner as the one in the wrong for wanting to leave you.
Okay.
Catra is a character adored and worshipped by the fandom and defended with cult-like ferocity and obsession (death threats, gaslighting, doxxing, bullying, etc).
Many of her actions are actively ignored and excused by the fans and writiers, especially the main thing about Catra:
Her blatant abuse of Adora
I can hear the cries of outrage now
"You're just homophobic! Of course you criticise the queer couple! You just hate Catra! Catra is a victim of a abuse! They're in a war! Catra said sorry! But Catra loves Adora! You don't know what abuse is!"
And then they write an essay about Catra's sad backstory
In response to this I would like to quote one of my favourite B99 characters Jake Peralta:
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Or in this case:
"Cool backstory, still abuse"
I really like Catra.
She's a cool character and an excellent villain. She has a very interesting and complicated psyche, a result of growing up in the Horde. A toxic, abusive environment that gave her attachment issues and likely ptsd and other problems. She lashes out because of her trauma, she is aggressive and rude so that she isn't vulnerable, to avoid being hurt.
There are many reasons for her actions, but it does not excuse them even if the narrative does.
Expecially her actions towards Adora, the person's she supposed to have loved all this time.
As I've said in another post, most abuse in media isn't very subtle because people still don't really take subtle abuse that seriously and often blame the victims. (Which is a whole other kettle of fish)
Not subtle abuse in media often consists of the following:
•Screaming or yelling at your partner, tearing apart their self esteem or threatening them
•Gaslighting/guiltripping them*
•Hitting them or physically assaulting them in any way
•Trying to kill them
•The victim is immensely afraid of/distressed by their abuser
*Note for this: it can depend on the depiction because its either abusive and in your face or romantic and just trying to help you depending on the story and writer
It astounds me to see Catra has done every single one of this things to Adora, and both the fandom and the writers excuse it or say "it isn't abuse, actually"
I'm gonna go through each bullet point and discuss how Catra does these things, mention excuses fans make up for it and point out their errors
Let's go
•Screaming and yelling at your partner, tearing apart their self esteem and threatening them
Catra is not someone who screams her throat raw, but she does yell when she lashes out and does so often at Adora.
She's constantly insulting her intelligence, making her doubt herself, telling her nothing she does matters, calling her weak and demeaning her.
She rips into her and treats her like trash beneath her heel when they were in the fake reality.
Again, we often see Adora repeating a similar rhetoric, believing what Catra and SW say fully or sometimes starting to believe it.
DURING her confession, Catra calla Adora an idiot. While Adora is basically dying, in this crucial moment for both of them, she resorts to insulting her intelligence.
"But her feelings were so obvious and Adora didn't notice!"
Let me tell you, spop has a massive tell don't show problem. This defence could've easily been true IF the writers bothered with evem something small like Catra hesitating to harm Adora or treating her with more care when fighting than with her other enemies, or at the very least treating her kindly.
They have done none of that. Instead they had other characters (E.g Horde Prime) talk about how much she cares for Adora and how strong her emotions are for her.
Literally the only way anyone could've known Catra loved Adora is through these characters giving exposition.
Adora is not an idiot for not realising Catra loved her, because Catra's actions do not show love or even an ounce of basic respect.
Making Adora doubt her intelligence and abilities is not love. Mocking Adora the way she does is not love. Torturing Adora is not love.
Telling Adora that she was a mistake and that "none if this would've happened if you didn't come through that portal" is not love.
Nothing she does to Adora is an act of love.
And also, not being very good at deciphering or recognising emotions that are "obvious" does not make you stupid, jfc
"Catra just says those things because she's angry, she doesn't mean them!"
It doesn't matter if she's angry and doesn't mean what she said. She says it. And there's never a scene were she regrets her words.
Her anger is a reason, not an excuse. That behaviour is not okay.
•Gaslighting/guiltripping them
Catra often likes to talk about Adora abandoned her, how Adora kept leaving her alone, and the show shifts to frame this as true and paints Adora in the wrong.
In Season 5 she's asks Adora "Please, just this once, stay?" After Catra herself being the one to run away, to make Adora feel guilty for the very much correct actions she took previously.
Adora refused to return to the Horde which was committing mass genocide and destroying everything in its path and painted as the bad guy for doing this.
Adora told Catra what they were doing. Begged Catra to come with her so they could start a new life. Throughout the series she is giving Catra chance after chance and trying her best to stay with her.
Every time, Catra has been doing the leaving.
Running away, abandoning Adora in the temple, vanishing in a blast or puff of smoke when it covers her.
She does the leaving, and she convinces Adora that it is in fact Adora leaving, and that she is bad person/friend for wanting nothing to do with the Horde.
The portal reality is the worst for me.
Adora is distressed and afraid, feeling like she's losing her mind and that something is wrong with her.
Catra, fully knowing the truth, gaslights her by saying she's crazy and just seeing things. And also is insults her intelligence yet again.
Making Adora doubt her own intelligence is also a form of manipulation and gaslighting.
Blaming Adora for everything that happened in the fake reality is gaslighting.
"But Adora DID leave Catra!"
Yeah. At the beginning after learning the Horde was committing mass genocide and after Catra tazed her twice. Refusing to go back. She was fully in the right. She apologised later and tried to get Catra to join her, so they could both continue being together. But Catra left her over and over again after that.
"The portal reality made Catra happy! It helped her cope with her trauma! She was having a mental breakdown!"
Hmm let me see isn't allowing your partner to continously be distressed and afraid and gaslighting them so you can be happy idk... selfish and abusive?
Yep she was having a break down. She was still in full control of her actions, and no trauma makes that okay in any way
•Hitting them or physically assaulting them in any way
Literally something Catra has done since they were children.
I can forgive the times they were small, because they don't know better and are abused children. But from episode one before Adora even left the Fright Zone Catra was pulling her around by the hair shoving her and over all being very aggressive.
After Adora leaves the Horde Catra: tazes her, tears at her skin with claws that can cut through metal, leaves her with scars, tortures her, kicks her and so much more.
Over and over again. Without a single sign of remorse.
"They were in a war!"
Yeah. Emphasis on the "they". Adora was in that war too. She was always worried for Catra, actively holding back, trying not to hurt too badly, treating her with respect.
Catra did none of that. She didn't even bother to show the slightest remorse or hesitate one second before clawing at her back and face.
Catra, in fact, is less violent with the sort of strangers that are Bow and Glimmer. She tackles Bow to the ground and hisses at him, that's it. Adora? Tearing at her skin, kicking her in the back, grabbing her by the face, torturing her, etc
War is not an excuse
"Catra's backstory! It's how they were raised! She's a victim of abuse copying her abuser because she doesn't know any better! She's lashing out!"
Cool backstory, still abuse.
Okay. She's lashing out. Doesn't excuse it. She is still actively harming Adora, and if she really can't control herself or see the wrong in it like some people claim, then that only supports the fact she is NOT good for Adora.
•Trying to kill them
The portal.
Catra knew what was going to happen.
She knew what she was going to cause.
She looked Adora dead in the eyes and pulled the switch anyways.
She didn't care as long as Adora lost. She is willing to let Adora die in order to win.
"But Catra wanted to die too!"
Okay. That doesn't matter. That doesn't justify anything. Being suicidal does not justify attempted murder.
"But (any excuse)!"
I honest to god do not care.
Just like Adora said:
"I didn't make you pull the switch. You made your choice. Now live with it!"
There is NO conceivable way for Catra knowingly doing what she did just so Adora didn't win to be okay.
She tried to kill the woman she supposedly loved.
That is not excusable.
That is not love.
And what's worse is after Adora begins to accept that Catra will not change and that trying to be peaceful will not work. Being together again is a dream. And the show rips that away.
•The victim is immensely afraid of/distressed by their abuser
Adora is absolutely terrified of Catra, or at the very least a bit afraid of her.
Every time Catra grabs Adora by the face or pins her down, Adora's eyes are wide with fear or at the very least immense discomfort.
In Roll With It, Adora is incredibly distressed and works herself into a complete state because nobody is considering what Catra will do.
"But Adora just wants to see Catra! She's thinking about her obsessively like this, it's a sign of her feelings!"
Adora knows what Catra is capable of. She knows what will happen to them if they aren't prepared. Planning out every possible option because of what could happen is not a sign of her feelings. It's a sign that she knows Catra will show no mercy, and she does not want the mission to fail or her friends to get hurt.
While Catra isn't directly present here, this is all because of her actions. Actions that have a reason, but not an excuse.
It is not healthy or romantic for your love interest to be afraid of you.
Moving on
At the end of the portal incident, Adora stared at Catra with cold eyes that clearly said "You've crossed a line"
It is here that many critics agrees that it's a bit late for Catra to have a redemption, because this truly was above anything else she had ever done.
This was where they could have had Adora move on from Catra and begin unlearning all the negative things Catra and others have embedded in her psyche.
If they did manage to do Catra's redemption right, whether during S5 or before it, I think it would've been best for the two of them to separate. It's made clear with how being away from the Horde and Adora made Catra happier when she was in the Crimson Waste.
I don't think either of then should've been in romantic relationships at all. Horde soldiers don't even know what proper food is, they've never heard of basic things like parties and the like.
I think it would've been better for them to slowly heal in their own time, Adora being happy with her newfound friends and learning the ways of Etheria and Catra staying in the Crimson Waste or somewhere else.
Romance should've been something to come to them when they've both matured and healed, and with different people.
Spop had the perfect opportunity to show that even if an abuser has trauma it is still abuse and it is not selfish to walk away.
It doesn't how sorry they are, it doesn't matter how much they claimed to have changed.
You are not obligated to be with them.
You are not obligated to be their punching bag just so they can be happy.
But spop didn't take that opportunity.
Instead this behaviour is excused or romanticised.
And the fact that the creator says this is based off his own relationship makes me deeply concerned.
......................................
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and that this wasn't too much of a mess! If you disagree with me, feel free to give your reasons and I will happily discuss with you. If you're just going to call me a homophobe and throw a fit and start fights, you can screw off
Tagging: @spop-romanticizes-abuse
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showtoonzfan · 6 months
Text
Hey it’s been a bit! The Mammon episode finally came out, so here’s my review!
Pros:
- The sign language scene was cute. Kinda weird that a kid was seeing a show that was clearly for adults but I love me some representation so it gets a pass.
- Despite Blitz not really needing to be in this episode, I thank god he had little screen time and more time was dedicated to Fizz.
- The fish ladies (despite having wonky color palettes that made them EXTREMELY hard to look at) were cute.
Cons:
- Mammon is so flat and uninteresting but I don’t know what I expected from a creator who always hypes her characters up that always end up being one of the three go-to personalities she picks for her male characters. In Mammon’s case he’s just a loud mouth cursing bum so way to ruin another Deadly Sin and make them boring af, moving on.
- I don’t like how Mammon and Fizz’s relationship are similar of Val and Angel’s, Viv keeps recycling stories, characters and plot lines ect, it makes Angel’s story for Hazbin really predictable/underwhelming and not exciting to look forward too especially since we already have the “mafia bad daddy” aspect to him too that they pulled for Moxxie. I guess the idea of Mammon being a controlling ruler is fine on paper but not much is done with it, Fizz just quits in the end like it was easy with zero consequences so what was all that build up for.
- Fizz himself once again feels REALLY out of character, he’s just too soft compared to how he was introduced in season 1. He’s constantly nervous in this episode and insecure, as well as walking on eggshells, and even in Oops he wasn’t THIS sensitive. I’m all for characters struggling and being kicked down but it has to make sense and not feel forced, and once again it feels like Viv is trying way to hard to make the characters she once introduced as snarky assholes to uwu innocent babies. I refuse to believe Fizz was actually INTIMIDATED by this random geeky imp who insulted him, as well as the fish ladies whom he was weirdly nice and welcoming to. It’s also weird seeing how uncomfortable/nervous he was around his fans when I thought the whole point was that he LOVED praise and loved being famous, at least that was season 1 Fizz. Now he feels retconned. Seeing him say “I just need this gig” is weird too, the explanation to why he went through all of this makes no sense, Fizz still has Ozzie and is famous in the Lust ring, and I understand Mammon is his idle but to go through all that abuse for so long for something that could have been so easily avoided feels forced to fit the plot, but it also makes Fizz look dumb.
- There’s confusing lore stuff regarding Mammon and Ozzie, and it makes me realize that Viv should have picked ONE storyline aka ONE Seven Deadly sin to go with Fizz’s story because this is getting mixed up. Fizz acts like if he looses this completion, he looses everything, which confused the heck out of me because no he wouldn’t have? First of all, Ozzie is a fucking powerful sin, how would you loose him? Second, from what we know from season 1, Fizz is a jester who performs at Ozzie’s club. It was Ozzie who built the sex robots across the rings of hell, NOT Mammon, and in season 2 we see that Fizz is under Ozzie’s care and lives in his house. Yet for some weird reason Mammon also represents Fizz and uses him for profit, but it’s not really explained in a way that makes sense, like Love’s art had said in her Fizz redesign video, Fizz’s job is really confusing on what exactly he does. Having both Ozzie and Mammon represent him overcomplicates things and the show did a poor job at explaining how this goes.
- Once again Viv dumps trauma and struggle onto her characters without building it up first. When did Fizz ever give off the impression that he was being controlled or abused, or even that he was so insecure and constantly walked on eggshells to be perfect. In Oops he was happy to be in the spotlight and happy to get the attention, he bragged to Blitz about how successful he was. He seemed happy to perform for Mammon and talked of him highly, and now you’re pulling an Angel Dust situation where he’s expected to be perfect 24/7 and it gets to him emotionally, while also being someone who’s physically and mentally abused. Yet another season 2 episode that wasn’t planned, same as how Millie wanting to feel important wasn’t planned, same as how Stolas seeing Blitz as genuine love wasn’t planned. Different episode, same issues.
- I’m so done with the Hell lore bro, this place officially has no rules and demons can just do anything without consequences. There’s no class system, there’s no rankings, there’s no power dynamics, screw anything that Viv says. There was no fucking reason why Ozzie and Fizz’s relationship needed to be a secret. There was no reason showing Ozzie threatening his workers to not tell anyone about his love life if he was just going to admit it to EVERYONE THE NEXT EPISODE IN FRONT OF ANOTHER SIN ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME— what was the POINT. What is the point of Stolas and Blitz’s conflict. What is the point of Stella being classist. What is the point of these class systems and rules if you can just announce that you technically broke a hell rule and no one gives a fuck and you get off scott free. Mammon telling Ozzie “you’ll regret that” like a cartoon villain doesn’t do anything either. What is he ganna do? Tell Lucifer, the character that canonically won’t appear in HB because the sins won’t appear in HH? If Lucifer rules over the sinners, who the fuck is in charge for the rest of Hell. Where’s the authority? And Mammon is just ganna come back for another episode to give the gang trouble cause lord knows we don’t have enough fucking villains already.
- It feels weird that Ozzie would just sit back while someone whom he knows is a piece of shit is treating his loved one badly. I get he was concerned but you’d think one of the seven deadly sins would have more power and authority.
- I was expecting some big gross bug-like thing to appear when Mammon was transforming into his final form, only for it to the exact same design but with small extra eyes and a spider lower half that isn’t even visible in most shots….GOD VIV.
Watching this episode also made me remind myself that this is supposed to be Hell. Seeing Fizz feel better and stand up for himself was sweet but these soft lessons and morals don’t belong in a show like this, and it’s extra aggravating regarding Viv’s double standard, how she can just pick and choose which characters she wants to be evil and which characters are saints. Overall not anywhere near the worst episode of season 2, but I am officially done with Helluva Boss so-
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guilty-pleasures21 · 2 months
Note
I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA ABOUT JASON
IMAGINE JASON DATING AN S/O WHO'S ALSO A WEREWOLF OR SMTHN SIMILAR--- I'M THINKING OF BITING RN. BITING JASON. WITH CANINES. OR FANGS. GROWLING WHEN YOU REALISE HE'S BLAMING HIMSELF FOR SMTHN. MORE BITING AND HIM LIKING IT.
(ughh some days i just wanna top that man and see him trying and failing to not be submissive as hell)
I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM BTW!!!
~ 🐺anon
Ahh! @🐺anon thank you so much!
Okay, so I'm actually a HUGE vampire nerd (I've never seen/read Twilight, but I have other recommendations if people are interested!) and funnily enough, I only realised when one of my friends pointed out to me my suspiciously extensive knowledge of vampires once back in school. (And I also found out my best friend was secretly OBSESSED with werewolves - she used to read all the Patricia Briggs books and I called her out on it one day? 🤣)
BUT ANYWAY! I really love wolf-coded guys? Like, the fangs and the claws and the pure masculine dominance and need to protect their mate (I FELL IN LOVE WITH MIGUEL BEFORE KNOWING ANY OF THIS ABOUT HIM THOUGH OKAY?!! 🥺).
P.S. I was actually working on a Dick Grayson fanfic loosely based off of Red Riding/Beauty and the Beast once, so ... 😳😅
The monster
Jason's already told you all his secrets. Are you ready to tell him yours?
Warnings: mentions of trauma, descriptions of sex including blowjob (f & m receiving), fisting (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).
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She rang the doorbell, then knocked on his door when he still hadn’t answered.
“Jay!” X yelled through the door. “You know I'm gonna find some other way to come in!”
She waited patiently for a few moments, then finally, he opened the door. “What?!”
X reflected his expression back at him, her eyebrows scrunching together in irritation. “Rude!”
Jason clenched his jaw at her response and tightened his grip on the edge of the door. “Not tonight, X.”
X folded her arms across her chest. “I came all this way and you're just going to turn me away at the door?! At least let me use your bathroom first!”
Jason rolled his eyes and sighed before heading back into his apartment. He left the door open behind him, but didn’t speak a word to her as he trudged back into his bedroom. It must have been really bad then. But was it because of a mission or another nightmare? She shouldn't have left him alone last night, but she'd had no choice! It was the full moon, after all, and her parents would have killed her if she’d missed it.
She took her bag off and set it down on the kitchen island before tiptoeing into Jason's bedroom. He was lying on his side of the bed, even when she wasn't there to take up the empty space beside him, and her heart cracked at the sight. She slid onto her stomach next to him, taking care to keep that bit of distance between them. Then she turned to face him. “You don't have to talk about it, but you don't have to take it out on me.”
Jason sighed, knowing she was right - wanting to believe that she was right. But it was difficult to undo years of damage in just a few months. And even though she always encouraged him about the progress she saw him making, some days, he felt like life hadn't moved at all; like he was still trapped in that abandoned warehouse, waiting for someone to want him enough to come rescue him. He removed his arm from over his face, but continued to avoid her gaze. X watched him quietly, giving him the time he needed. Then finally, he glanced over at her - her thick hair trailing across her pillow, her long limbs sprawled out over his bed. He shuffled closer to her and she turned onto her side so he could snuggle against her, his arm coming around her waist as he buried his face in her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, still waiting patiently.
“How-” He broke off as his voice cracked and took a moment to compose himself. “Why do you love me?” ‘Why do love me? What do you love about me? What in me is worth loving?’. That was what he was really asking her to tell him. She continued to stroke his hair, trying to find the right words to comfort him.
“Hmm,” she contemplated. “You're really sweet, Jay. I know you think that everyone thinks you're this big, bad, tough guy who just hates everything, but you care so much about the things that are important to you.” Jason tightened his grip on her, wanting so badly to believe what she was saying, to believe that he was good, so she continued.
“You always fight so hard to give everyone the opportunity to be good; to give them a choice and teach them all the different reasons they should make the right decision. You put everything into what you believe in, even at the cost of yourself.” She paused to press a kiss to the top of his head and he finally relaxed a little. “You're gentle and attentive and so caring; so deserving of all the love in the entire world and I will fight everyone to give it to you!”
Jason let out a soft snicker at the thought of his tiny little girlfriend beating people up for him. Then he tensed up again. “But … But I've hurt people. I've done bad things.”
Her response was immediate.
“We've all done bad things, Jay - we're only human.” Mostly. “But you've never hurt anyone … You've only hurt those who have hurt hundreds of other people! And in doing that, you've given all those other people a chance at life. At a better life. You basically do what everyone complains about God not doing.”
He pulled back slightly to raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief: had she just compared him to God? X shuffled closer to him and cupped his cheek in her hand, her fingers brushing along the stubble sprinkled around his jaw.
“You serve justice - even if it doesn't look so pretty sometimes,” she added. “Like karma.” Her eyes lit up at the thought.
“Ooh! Should we change your vigilante name to that?” she suggested excitedly. “That's such a cool name: Karma. And you'd have such cool catchphrases too!”
Jason couldn’t stop the smile that creeped across his face at her enthusiasm. He'd revealed his identity to her a few weeks before they'd started dating, secretly thrilled that the cute friend he'd made at the library months ago was already so enamoured with his alter ego. She liked how firm he was, she'd always say; how he wasn't afraid to make sure that everyone got what they deserved. She'd scare Dick and Steph sometimes, with how intense she could be, but he loved it - he loved her. Even though he still hadn't found the courage to say it just yet. He stroked her back gently, delighting in how soft she was. “I'm not changing my name, X.”
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him - like a little puppy. She'd remind him of one sometimes, bouncing around with her infectious enthusiasm, rambling on about something interesting she'd found without stopping taking a breath. He could practically see her wagging her imaginary little tail whenever she got excited. “Then can I do it? Can I become a vigilante like you?”
She held her fists close to her mouth, almost whimpering as she begged him for it - just like a little puppy. Jason ruffled her hair fondly and tugged her a little closer to him. “I don't want you to ever be in danger because of me.”
“Then keep me safe!” she responded quickly, grinning like it was that easy, that simple.
Jason snuck his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and scratched her skin lightly as he studied her. Then he pulled her into his chest and pressed his lips into her hair.
“I'll keep you safe,” he promised her. “I'll keep you safe, sweetheart.” He hesitated after saying it, thinking about it. If he was being honest, he didn't want her to get involved in that part of his life because he never wanted her to see that side of him: to see him for the monster he really was. And maybe it was selfish of him, but … what other choice did he have?
“X …” he began slowly.
“Hmm?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.
“Do you … Do you ever get scared of me?” he asked her quietly. “Do you ever think … I could be a monster?”
He looked so sad as he said it, his voice all soft and terrified. And she wanted to beat up whoever had ever made him feel that way. She frowned.
“Why would I ever get scared of you, Jay? You keep me safe, remember?” Her brows remained creased as she watched him consider her response. Then her heart leapt into her throat as she realised that this was the best opening she was ever going to get. “But Jay … Even if … Even if you thought you were a monster … I'd say that we can be monsters together.” She curled into herself and peeked up at him nervously, then let her eyes glow gold in the dim light of the moon streaming in through the windows.
He did a double take, unsure if he’d just seen what he thought he saw. Had her eyes just … flashed gold?! Or had it just been a reflection of something? “What?”
X bit her lip and sat up, avoiding his gaze.
“What if … What if I told you I was a monster?” she asked him carefully. “Would you still love me then?” Sure, he'd never said it, but she knew that he loved her - how could she not when he was always looking after her and buying her little gifts, planning small surprises for her and showering her with all his affection whenever they were together? But she'd been selfish - she'd fallen in love with the poetic boy with the white streak in his hair from their first conversation in the library and ever since then, she hadn't been able to stomach the thought of ever losing him.
Jason sat up, bewildered. Why was she suddenly acting so strangely?
“Of course!” he assured her firmly. He reached out to cup her cheeks. “Of course I'd …”
“I'd still want you,” he finished lamely. “Even then.”
X turned her face away from his, her stomach roiling with nerves. But she had to tell him - she couldn’t keep lying to him forever. “I'd never hurt you, Jay! You know that, right?”
“Of course I know that,” he assured her, turning her face back to his. “Of course I know you'd never hurt me, princess. But why are you talking like this? What happened?”
X dug her fingers into the mattress, wincing in anticipation of his response.
“I belong to a family that …” Ugh, it was like pulling teeth! Or fangs. Maybe she should just come out and say it. “I can turn into a wolf! Sometimes. But I don't hurt anyone! I'd never hurt anyone, Jay! Especially not you!” She looked up at him with wide eyes, the fear scrawled all over her face, and his breath caught in his throat: he'd never had anyone afraid to lose him. Not him, never him.
“W-What … What are you talking about?” He rubbed his thumb along her cheek, waiting for a better explanation.
X whimpered nervously as she curled into herself. “I can … I can show you?”
A wolf?! She could turn into a wolf?! What the f*ck?! What the hell was he supposed to say to that?! He let his hand fall from her face and shrugged, wanting to put her at ease. “Okay.”
She stood up and went over to the window to pull the curtains open. She took a moment to soak in the moonlight, letting its power wash over her, then she turned back to him, allowing him to see her for who she really was.
Jason’s jaw dropped at the sight of her golden eyes, her elongated canines, her sharp claws. What the actual f*ck?!
“I'm not … I can turn into a full wolf, if I wanted to, but I'd be too big.” She glanced around the room after saying it, imagining her large wolf form trying to squeeze into the space between his bed and his window. Then she lowered her head and waited for his response.
She still seemed the same: still spoke the same, still acted the same, still curled into herself with fear in anticipation of his response in the same way. He narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully. “How?”
“It runs in my family,” X admitted, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I've been able to do it since I was young.”
“Does it hurt?” Jason asked her. X shook her head quickly, still keeping her distance from him so she wouldn't scare him.
“No!” Jason sat in silence for a moment, thinking. Then he waved her over to him.
“Come here,” he commanded. X walked forward, but then stopped at the foot of the bed, still avoiding his gaze.
She was out of the moonlight now, but she wasn't changing back. “You don't need to be in the moonlight to do that?”
“Only for the first transformation of the night,” she explained. “Then I can do it whenever I want. It only lasts for about twelve hours though. Then I'd need the moonlight again.”
She didn't seem to have a problem speaking around her fangs. Would he have trouble kissing her though? He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and gestured for her to get on his lap. “Come here.”
She curled her fingers around his shoulders nervously and straddled his lap. Jason placed his hands on her waist and took a moment to study her body. She was still as soft as she always was, still as warm. But wait. Was that a tail? His lips twitched as he ran his fingers along her silky fur. “You have a tail?”
“Mmhmm!” She nodded enthusiastically in agreement, but her eyes were still wide with fear. And Jason could help but let out a huff of amusement at the irony of the situation: there he'd been, terrified that she wouldn't accept him once she knew the truth about him, and now here she was, asking him to do the same. He glided the hand that wasn’t stroking her tail up her back and around her waist, checking to see if everything else was still the same. He reached up to cup her cheek in his hand when he was satisfied, then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. He kissed her slowly, cautiously, taking care to not cut his tongue on her fangs.
He was kissing her! He was really kissing her! But did that mean that he was okay with it? Or was he just testing it out? She pulled back slowly, then squeezed her arms to her chest, avoiding his gaze as she did so. “Are you … Are you okay with it? With me being a monster?”
Her voice was just a whisper as she said it, and she glanced up at him nervously. He tilted her face up to his and smiled. “We can be monsters together.”
X grinned as he repeated her words, and she started kissing him again, her movements a little hungrier, a little less careful this time. She pushed him down onto the bed and Jason chuckled at her eagerness. She looked so cute like this, her tail wagging with joy at his acceptance of her, her lips curled into that happy smile as she looked at him. She bent over to nip at his earlobe and Jason sucked in a breath as she began trailing her teeth down his skin, a delighted growl escaping her throat everytime her fangs pricked his skin. He slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and crawled his fingers up her skin cautiously, and she sat up to let him take her shirt off.
Her skin almost seemed to glow beneath the moonlight, and he sucked in a breath at the sight before looking up at her in question. They’d had sex before, of course, but this was … different. This time, they'd expose all of themselves to each other, every ugly piece of them they both thought should be locked away forever. X curled her fingers around the hem of his shirt, taking care to not scratch him with her claws. Then she nodded.
He kept his eyes fixed on her chest as he took her bra off, then he licked his lips hungrily when she was bare before him. She was so f*cking beautiful; more now than she’d ever been before, so completely herself, so utterly unafraid. He turned them over so she was lying beneath him, then slowly slid off her jeans and underwear. Shit, she was hot: her smooth skin, her soft curves, her silky curls. He stood up to take his own clothes off, then knelt down on the floor, settling himself between her legs. He tugged her to him, pulling her knees onto her shoulders, then began pressing soft kisses to the insides of her thighs, his teeth closing around her flesh occasionally to tug on her skin.
She pushed herself to her hands, wanting to look at him, but then he was dragging his tongue up her length and closing his lips around her clit and her head was falling back in pleasure. Jason continued licking and sucking on her like he was trying to make out with her p*ssy and she shuddered as she felt herself getting wetter and wetter.
“Hngrh … J-Jay …” X twisted her claws into the bedsheet, her body trembling as he continued to arouse her.
F*ck, she was cute, the helpless little whimpers that kept escaping from her lips as he continued to eat her out slowly? It drove him crazy. “I guess the transformation doesn't affect your sensitivity, huh, sweetheart?”
He chuckled against her pulsing p*ssy and X let out a surprised yelp as her leg twitched in response. Jason ran his fingers up and down her thighs as he gave a low moan of satisfaction. “Mmm. You gonna come for me, princess? Already?”
He closed his lips around her folds and gently pulled them into his mouth before lazily dribbling his tongue along her length. F*ck, she tasted sweet.
He was so good, so gentle and slow, her Jason, always taking his time to appreciate the taste of her on his tongue. She shuddered as he let out another low moan and started moving her hips against his mouth to get him to go faster. But Jason pulled back instead and chuckled at her impatience. X growled at the sudden absence of his mouth and bared her teeth at him in a snarl. Jason flashed her a smug smirk in response as he stood up and leaned over her.
“You think I'm scared of you, princess?” He asked, gripping her chin tightly and turning her face up to his. “With those cute little puppy dog eyes of yours?” He snickered as she continued to glare at him, then he bent over to press a kiss to her lips.
X loosened her grip on the bed sheets when she felt his tongue brushing across hers. She'd always been a bit of an outcast within her pack: the male wolves would always go for someone bigger, stronger - a mate who would be able to give them many children and help them hunt for and look after the rest of the pack. It wasn't their fault - just a part of their DNA - but it didn't make it hurt any less. She gasped as Jason reached up to cup her breast, his mouth moving to trail along her neck and shoulder instead. But here was a man, big and strong and always ready to defend his pack, worshipping her body like she was some kind of angel he was blessed to be able to lay his hands upon. If only he could see himself in the same way; in the way she saw him. She steeled herself so her voice wouldn't shake when she next spoke. “Jason.”
“Hmm?” he grunted, continuing to trail his lips and hands all over her body. F*ck, she tasted so sweet.
He wasn't listening to her and she was starting to get a little frustrated at the smugness in his voice. So she grabbed him by the waist and flung him onto the bed.
“Whoa!” Jason exclaimed, caught off guard. Then he turned to grin at her. “How'd you do that?!”
X kept her face scrunched into a frown as she climbed on top of him and pinned his wrists against the bed. “It's my wolf strength. Now shut up!”
He stopped talking, but continued to smile at her, amused by how cute she still looked despite her wickedly sharp canines; she looked more like a puppy than a wolf, glaring down at him with her beautiful, round eyes. X huffed in irritation when she saw that he still wasn't taking her seriously.
“Tell me where it hurts, Jay,” she demanded. Jason shut his mouth and raised an eyebrow at her, his lips curling at the ends in teasing. X shoved him into the mattress in warning. “Jason!”
Jason lets out a little snicker. She was so powerful - a full-on wolf when she wanted to be! - and yet, she was still so vulnerable before him.
“What?” he finally relented. “What do you want me to tell you, princess?”
X began to hesitate, her resolve weakening as she contemplated what she wanted to ask of him. “I want … I want you to tell me … all the parts of you that you think aren't worth loving.”
His breath caught in his throat at that and he felt his heart skip a beat. “W-What?”
X let go his wrists and sat back, taking a moment to assess his body. Her fingers trailed over all of his scars and bruises and she repeated herself, her tone more firm this time. “Tell me all the parts of you that you think aren't worth loving.”
Jason swallowed hard, his heart resuming its beats, but much faster this time. He shifted uncomfortably in position, so she curled up on his chest, her big dark eyes looking up at him as she held him down. He clenched and unclenched his fists, then turned away from her, ashamed.
“My mouth.” Something easy, he'd start with something easy. “Someone always gets hurt whenever I open it. I've always been told that I have a big mouth.” X smiled and crawled up over him to trace the curve of his lips with her finger.
“All the better to kiss with,” she joked. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him slowly, pouring all her affection into him. Then she pulled back. “What else?”
Jason's chest started heaving with shallow breaths as the anxiety began to creep in. He was going to do this, he was really going to do this: tear himself open and let her see all the vulnerable bits he tried so hard to hide. “M-My … My hands. All they do is take and take and take.”
X lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his palm. Then she began listing all the things he'd taken from her, stopping to nip each of his fingers in between.
“They take my sadness. They take my pain. They take my loneliness. They take my tears. They take my hunger.” She placed his hand on her waist when she was done, then she took hold of his other one to do the same. “They take my sorrow. They take my fear. They take my nightmares. They take my ignorance. They take my insecurities.”
She placed his hand on the other side of her waist and continued. “What else?”
Jason swallowed hard, the pressure beginning to build up behind his eyes as he digested her words. How could she do that? How could she take all of his self-loathing, all of his hurt and his pain … and turn it into something so beautiful?
“My shoulders,” he choked out helplessly. “They're not strong enough to carry the weight of … of his expectations.” She lowered herself back on top of him and rubbed his shoulder gently, knowing exactly who he was talking about. She scratched his skin lightly with her claw, leaving a faint red line, then she smiled down at him, her eyes glowing in the dark again as she did so.
“They carry mine perfectly fine.” She bent over and sank her fangs into his shoulder, just enough to draw a surprised hiss out of him, but not enough to hurt him - he'd already had enough pain to last a lifetime. Longer, even. She bit him softly, then pulled back and began reciting all the expectations he'd taught her she was allowed to have of someone. “Brave.”
X moved her mouth higher up his shoulder and nipped at his brawny muscle again.
“Sweet.” Nip. “Patient.” She moved to his other shoulder when she ran out of space.
“Thoughtful. Attentive. Generous.” She sat up again and fixed him with a challenging look. “Is there anything else?”
Jason tightened his grip on her waist and, this time, his voice cracked with pain when he spoke. “I'm broken. I'm so broken, X.”
X gave him a soft smile and traced one of the scars on his shoulder.
“You're not broken, Jace. You're all stitched up! Here.” She brushed her fingers down his scar, then moved on to another. “And here.”
She repeated the phrase, her fingers sliding along his skin, her claws outlining each of his hideous scars. Then when she was done, she bent over and nipped at each of them, her fangs pricking his skin delightfully. She took hold of his cock when she reached his abdomen, curling her fingers around it and moving it aside. But then she began stroking him gently, her thumb rubbing across his slit as she dragged her fangs along the inside of his thighs.
“X …” Jason breathed, clutching onto the bed sheets as his arousal began to intensify. X raised her head to grin at him, her tail wagging happily behind her. Jason pushed himself up to his elbows, glancing down at his body to see what she'd done, and his heart squeezed in his chest. Where before he'd had scars, now he was showered with little bite marks, the imprint of her fangs scattered across his body as she'd claimed him as her own. X sat up, her fingers still stroking his cock carefully, and smiled down at his body.
“They're not scars anymore, Jay,” she told him, brushing her fingers across his rough skin tenderly. “They're all the places I've marked you.”
She looked up at him, eyes glinting gold with mischief and glee. “You don't belong to Death anymore, Jason Todd - you belong to me.”
Jason reached up to cup her cheek and pull her closer to him so he could start kissing her. He kissed her hard, aggressive, licking into her mouth thirstily like she was the only thing that could soothe the aching emptiness inside of him. X giggled as she kissed him back, then she yelped in surprise when he pushed her down onto the bed beneath him. She gasped and twisted her fingers in his hair as he began pressing his lips and teeth all over her body, marking her like she'd marked him.
“I belong to you,” Jason recited feverishly, like the words were a prayer on his lips. “I'm yours. All yours, baby. All yours, X.” He squeezed her breast in his hand, then growled and nipped at the other before dragging his tongue across her nipple. X whimpered and curled her toes as her legs twitched with arousal. Then she let out a helpless moan when Jason sucked hard on her breast before releasing her with a wet ‘pop’.
“You like that?” he teased her, making his way down her abdomen, nibbling on her soft skin and leaving small bruises all over her body. “You like it when I mark you like this, princess? When I …” He trailed off as he reached her centre, her sweet little p*ssy all blushing and dripping just for him. He growled again at the sight, then pushed his mouth into her folds and groaned at the taste of her before drinking her up.
“You're all mine,” he declared. “You're all mine, X, all mine, princess.”
She whimpered and moaned again as her walls began to throb with arousal, the intensity of it causing her body to contract hard. “J-Jason!”
“F*ck,” he breathed. He flipped her over and started licking her up from behind, his fingers digging into her ass to spread her apart as he dragged his tongue along her length. X twisted her fingers into the bedsheets, her claws ripping the soft fabric as she did so.
“Jay!” she squealed helplessly. Jason bit down on her ass, his teeth sinking into her skin delightfully, then he held her tail down so he could start making his way up her body.
“You're so perfect,” he murmured, his words slurred with desire. “So perfect, baby. So pretty, so f*cking pretty.”
She shuddered as he trailed his lips up her spine, her entire body so sensitive from how badly he'd stimulated her already. Then finally, he reached her neck and she found the strength to push herself up to shrug him off of her. He rolled over onto his back and she pounced on him quickly before he could get up.
He looked up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust, a dazed expression on his rugged features. He was so handsome when he was confused, when he was completely at her mercy like this.
“W-What?” he stammered out, puzzled. X placed her hands on his shoulders, then dragged them down his chest, her claws leaving a faint trail of pink down his torso. Jason sucked in a breath at the pleasant sting of it, then she turned around on top of him and settled her p*ssy over his mouth. Her tail flicked playfully at his nose as she took hold of his cock and began licking the insides of his thighs and he grabbed onto her ass instinctively, digging his fingers into her skin.
“F*ck!” He tried to continue eating her out again, to suck on her and lick her up and please her, but he was just too distracted by the feeling of her fingers teasing his tip to do anything besides pressing soft kisses along her length.
X fisted his cock as he suckled on her clit, her body giving a hard contraction that had her curling her back involuntarily. “Hngrh …”
She pushed her hips against his mouth and Jason let out a satisfied groan at the feeling. He started lapping at her folds, picking up the pace of his movements, and she whined.
“J-Jay … Stop …” He didn't listen, so she started running her tail across his face, stroking his cheeks and tickling him softly. Finally, he released her, his head falling back onto the mattress against his own will.
“F*ck!” he exclaimed. X continued to run her tail across his neck and shoulders as she began licking his cock, her silky fur brushing against his skin teasingly. Jason held his breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of her all over him; her tail around his neck, her c*m leaking onto his chest, her breasts pressing into his abdomen. He bucked his hips as she lowered her mouth onto his cock, pushing it deeper in so that his tip hit the back of her throat. X growled at the feeling and he muttered another curse when he felt the vibrations racing down his length to his core. X trailed her tongue up his length, tracing the veins in his shaft. Then she shook her head like he was a toy she was playing with and his hips lifted off the bed again as his dick slapped against the insides of her cheeks.
“F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck!” Jason swore, his brain turning completely numb with pleasure. “X … Stop … Princess, I want …” She refused to listen to him, happily sucking on his cock as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. He groaned and pulled her back, settling her hips back over his face. X yelped in surprise, then flopped over him and started whining again when he shoved his tongue straight into her hole.
“J-Jay!” He groaned against her and she shivered as his low voice sank into her skin and danced along her bones. Then she ripped herself away from him and turned around so that their centres were perfectly aligned. The both of them paused for a second, chests panting with shallow breaths as they took each other in. Then Jason took hold of himself and tugged her down onto him. She sucked in a breath when she felt all of him filling up all of her, then she threw her head back with pleasure and started riding him.
“H-Hold … Hold on, princess …” Jason's voice shook as he bounced against the bed with the force of her movements. But he eventually managed to push himself up and grabbed her by the waist to lift her up slightly. She growled and snapped at him with her fangs, but he just chuckled and held her in position.
“Calm down, princess,” he reassured her lazily. “Just tryna get comfortable.” He shuffled up the mattress to lean back against the headboard, then loosened his hold on her, to allow her to continue.
X began rolling her hips against him again, her movements hard and fast. Shit! He felt so good! His thick cock stuffing her completely, his swollen tip hitting that one spot that had her entire body relaxing with pleasure. She could feel a howl starting to build up deep inside of her, a call to her mate, a warning to mark her territory. But there were still some parts of her she was too ashamed to share with him, so she did her best to swallow it back down.
She kept whining and whimpering, like she was trying hard to silence herself. But he didn't want her to silence herself - he wanted her to let him in, to feel safe enough with him to let him see all of her. “What's wrong … princess?”
“H-H-Hooowl …” X winced as the urge continued to press against her throat.
“Y-You … You wanna howl?” Jason asked, another wave of desire hitting him as she made her eyes all round and sweet.
She nodded eagerly, her features still scrunched up in embarrassment. Jason tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You can howl if you want, princess.”
His voice was low and gravelly as he said it and she found herself unable to hold back anymore. She pushed him against the headboard and finally let out a shy and adorable little howl.
“F*ck.” How the f*ck was she so cute?! Jason buried his face in her breasts and glided his hands along her sides and up her back. He tugged on her nipple with his teeth then circled it with his tongue before sucking on her. X whined at the sensation and let out another soft howl as she continued to bounce on his cock. “Shit.”
Jason released her breast and his head fell back against the headboard as she slammed him against it again. X yipped happily when she saw the dazed look on his face, then she curled herself around him to nip at his ear. Jason winced and tightened his grip on her before letting out another curse. “F*ck!”
X giggled against his neck and slowed down a little, rolling her hips slower, but harder, against him. God, he felt good, thick and warm and filling her up so very nicely. She gripped onto his hair as her body shuddered, her p*ssy pulsing around him desperately as she came for him.
“F*ck.” Jason kept his arms around her as his entire body tightened, and then he was coming too, his c*m shooting into her cervix and coating her walls with his seed. X slumped over against him, her entire body relaxing at the feeling of his warm semen inside of her. Then she closed her eyes and took a moment to listen to his heartbeat, the steady sound of it soothing her. They stayed like that for a while, the both of them holding each other in silence. Then finally, “I love you.”
It was so soft that she almost didn't hear it at first. She transformed her ears and angled them towards him in question. Did he … Had he really said it? After months of her being the only one who would? Jason let out a small laugh, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head before repeating himself. “I love you, X.”
X sat up to grin at him, her tail wagging furiously behind her. “I love you too, Jay.”
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wardenparker · 5 months
Text
Vampire Waltz - ch 10
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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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: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10k 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.* Heavy flirting, mention of a safe word, technically public groping/making out, drunkenness, weapon, threats/arguing, accidental injury, character death, blood drinking Summary: An interrupted date and a magical mishap end up with very surprising results. Notes: This chapter has been marked explicit for violence! Please proceed knowing that tags are intentionally vague so as not to give away plot points!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9
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The farm that Max found is two towns over, crawling with families and teenagers and other couples out on similar dates. The little food stand they have open is cranking out fresh doughnuts and corn dogs, and French fries from potatoes grown right there on their land — along with locally pressed apple cider and hot cocoa that is nice and rich but Max is certain just came from a powdered mix. Considering his prowess on the topic, you’re not inclined to disagree with him. Surprised to enjoy yourself so very much that hours fly by without your notice, it isn’t until you shiver in the October chill and Max very dutifully wraps you up in his leather jacket, that you start to think about home again.
Is it possible you’re only thinking that because you want to snuggle up beside him? Very possible. But that’s not such a bad thing to want to do.
“Warm now?” He asks, his arm around your waist and leans in close. He has the opportunity to snuggle close to you and he’s going to take it. The atmosphere is positively sweet and he’s hoping that you are relaxed.
“Much.” Even if he doesn’t radiate body heat, the proximity of him and his bearing makes him into a walking blanket — and his jacket is deceptively warm for being deliberately stylish. “I feel like we’ve done everything but I’m not ready to go home…which seems silly.”
“We can always go through the hayride again.” He offers, thrilled that you want to spend time out with him again.
“You wouldn’t mind that?” The last thing you want to do is bore him, but Max seems to be enjoying himself. Or at least he’s looking at you so softly and happily that you can’t imagine the expression is false — which is really its own sort of miracle.
“I’m out with you.” He hums softly. “I don’t mind at all.” It’s pretty astonishing how soft he has become for you. Managing to have you break through his crusty, self-important exterior to the soft and mushy inside.
“And you’ll really never understand how astonishing I find it that you feel that way.” You lean into his side and sigh, the heavy sound so opposed to the lightness and easiness in your heart. “One more hayride and then we’ll call it a night?”
“That sounds good, sweetheart.” He leans in and nuzzles your cheek. “We can always slip off into the woods to canoodle if you want.”
“Max!” The tone of scandal in your voice is obvious, but not in a way that disagrees by any means. In fact, your pulse jumps up and your cheeks burn hot immediately at the suggestion. “How very scandalous of you.”
With no one looking, Max flashes his fangs at you playfully. “That’s me. Scandalous.”
“Scandalous and sexy.” You huff a little laugh, letting your arm around his waist relax as the two of you walk back toward the start of the hayrides together. “And elegant, of course.”
“Always elegant.” He jokes. “You should see how elegantly I can pin you against a tree.”
Prior to Max, that probably wouldn’t have affected you too much in any particular way, but knowing that Max has never used his strength in any way but to care for you makes that image some even sexier. You know for certain that any way he had you in his arms, you would be protected and cared for — as well as absolutely wrecked. “M—maybe I’d like to see that.”
You manage to shock him. His step falters and the elegantly graceful vampire damn near stumbles. His eyes dart towards your face as he gauges how serious you are. “Give me a safe word.” He demands when he sees you’re serious. “One word that stops anything and everything happening.”
“I—” You’ve never had to have a safe word before, partially because you had a partner who didn’t prioritize your safety, but that is beside the point. Right now all that matters is the hungry way Max is staring at you. “I don’t…” The first word that pops into your head is what comes out of your mouth. “Napkin.”
He wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. Knowing that you would be embarrassed if he did. Probably interpret it as him laughing at you, rather than the word. Instead, he nods. “Napkin. Okay, sweetheart, if you ever want to stop anything – I mean even holding my hand – you just say ‘napkin’.”
"It was the only word I could think of," you defend, embarrassment hot in your cheeks even as you cuddle closer into Max's side. "But I understand what you mean. And...for the record?" Looking up at him from this close to his shoulder makes you crane your neck as though he was twelve feet tall and that's somehow even sexier. "I can't imagine that I would ever want you to stop holding my hand."
“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.” A cute little Hallmark perfect date wasn’t the setting he had in mind for discussions about boundaries and safe words, but here you are. “But the second that changes, I want you to tell me. Without being scared I will get mad or it will hurt my feelings. Invalidating your own comfort for mine isn’t something I want.”
"And you'll tell me too?" Somehow you know that he would, but you still feel the need to say it out loud. "Don't be afraid that it will hurt my feelings. I would rather that you always be honest with me."
“You’re my person.” He stresses, tossing you a grin. “My little ketchup packet, my favorite fantasy snack. I would never lie to you.” That part he’s serious about. He doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t trust him, you’re part of his soul. If you can’t trust the person the universe said was your perfect match, can you even trust yourself?
"I'm claiming that as my new pet name," you tell him, practically doubling over and cackling beside him as you wait in line for one more hayride through the farm. "I'm your little ketchup packet from now on. That's the weirdest and cutest thing I've ever heard."
“Then that’s what you’ll be.” He grins, enjoying your amusement and watching you with steadfast affection.
******
Eventually, after another five or ten minutes of waiting, snuggling together like every other couple in line, the tractor pulling the trailer with the bales of hay piled up to make seats arrives. Unloading the last giggling, excitable group before they motion towards you and Max to climb on. He sets a precedent by helping you up onto the trailer with a flourish that makes the other men of your group seemingly follow suit, making him grin as he settles down beside you against a surprisingly comfortable backrest of hay.
“Show off,” you tease under your breath as he puts his arm around you in the back of the truck bed and rest your head on his shoulder. “Forcing them all to up their game.”
He snorts and leans down against your head. “Poor them.” He mocks silently.
“All the girls are probably thanking you, though.” The way your hand creeps into his, fingers threading together and locking into place, is comfortable and practiced now.
“They should have been helping them up anyway.” He muses, smirking at you, “Helps get them laid.”
“Oh yeah?” Your eyes flash mischief and you grin. “Are you hoping it’ll help you, too?”
“Well, I’m always hoping.” He nuzzles your nose with his and chuckles. “But as long as I get to hold you while you sleep, I’m perfectly good.”
“I don’t think it will take too long.” It’s less a promise than a reassurance, because with the way you feel about him you’re just not going to be able to resist very long. And that’s okay.
“We’ll get there.” He’s not concerned about sex, which is amazing considering he was kicked out of the college he was supposed to meet you at because he was thinking with his dick. Maybe it’s because he knows you are his, his soulmate bond stronger than just mere physical attraction.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” The question is soft, and more plaintive than you meant it to be, but it’s honest. Just because he’s stayed beside you for the last two nights doesn’t mean that he is always going to want to. But you want him there. For every possible second that he’ll allow.
“I was hoping you would ask.” He admits, squeezing your hand gently. He wasn’t going to push you for another night beside you while you sleep, but if you want him there, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
“I always want you there,” you admit quietly. “But I don’t want to keep you if you have other things to do.”
"I can do any work I need to get done on my phone." He tells you. "Unless the light would bother you."
“It doesn’t.” That is an easy promise, considering you sleep more deeply in Max’s arms than anywhere else. “You could probably talk to me in my sleep and the most that would happen is I would hear your voice is my dreams.”
"Good." He curls a little closer to you and nudges your ear with his nose. "Maybe we can...sleep together regularly?"
“Honestly?” The closer he gets the more you warm up, the heat of attraction rolling off you in waves. “Stay with me every night. Just screw having different rooms, I don’t even care.”
"Ready to move me in, Queenie?" He grins, not bothered by it at all. "You must really like me." He has zero problem staying in your room from now on. Only going back to his room to dress if you couldn't, or wouldn't, give him closet space.
“You’re my soulmate.” As if it were some kind of all-powerful spell, a brisk breeze sweeps through the cart and nudges you to nuzzle closer to Max as the hayride takes off. “And technically I’m the one who moved in with you. You were already there.”
“Technically.” He hums happily, tightening his hold on you as the ride starts.
The first hayride you took had been full of local teens and one young family all looking to enjoy some seasonal entertainment, but this time it is very obviously all couples. There is no doubt about it when seven pairs of people are all sitting in their own little corners of the truck bed and cuddling without a single care in the world for anyone else present. You and Max are able to just watch the night go by from your perched spot on a bale of hay, and when you approach the tree line again towards the end of the ride you bite back a giggle. He makes you feel giddy, and you have to wonder privately how scandalous it really would be to sneak off into those woods.
“Hold on, sweetheart.” Max can move faster than you can. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you off the trailer with his inhuman vampiric strength and speed to move you to the trees, out of sight of the continuing hayride.
Clinging to him is sort of an understatement for how tight you hold on, but in just two seconds’ time or less you’re well-hidden with him in the tree line and gasping for air as you try to muffle exuberant giggles. “I can’t believe we just did that!” It feels like breaking the rules and you never break the rules.
He chuckles and leans against you gently, pinning you against the tree “Yeah?” He hums, nuzzling your pulse. “We are breaking the rules and being naughty.”
“Max…” Breathy and plaintive, his name on your lips is as certain as the way your fingers are digging into his sides to keep him close as your eyes flutter shut. He’s like a wall around you, surrounding you and blocking out the world, and somehow that is even sexier than you ever thought it would be.
“What do you want, my Dolly?” He asks, sliding his tongue out to trail lightly along your skin. “What do you need?” His voice dips down low and sensual, caressing you with his words.
It’s the most fantastic thing in your mind when he does this, lips and tongue and just the gentlest nip of his teeth on your skin making you forget everything in the world besides him. Far from any feeling you’ve had before, it is intoxicating and all-encompassing and you have to wonder how much it is the soulmate connection and how much is just your physical attraction to him. “Drive me crazy—” you gasp and it drops to a low moan when his hand spreads out over your hip and he presses in closer.
“Good.” He huffs against your skin and grins. He wants to drive you crazy, to make you forget about everything but him and the moment. He presses against you a little more and continues to kiss along your throat. “Wanna drive you crazy.”
Everything else around the two of you truly dissolves and the only thought in your head is how long you can possibly make your neck to give Max more and more skin to kiss. One of your hands finds its way under the hem of his sweater with such ease that you don’t even realize you’re touching him at first. It’s like an unconscious effort to crawl inside the strength of his embrace and just stay there forever.
“Do you know how good it feels to have you touch me?” Max growls against your skin, shivering slightly. Not from the chilly weather, but from the exquisite feeling of your touch. The feel of someone who was meant for him.
“Tell me.” Your hands seek out skin like a magnet, grazing Max’s sides and dipping delicately under the waistband of his jeans.
“It’s— it’s electric.” Even though he doesn’t need to breathe, his voice falters, nearly losing track of what he was saying. “Tingling. Like waking up Christmas morning.”
“Ooo, a fan of Christmas?” The giggle that bubbles out of you is throaty and you find yourself pressing back against the tree to give him maximum leverage while your hands retrace familiar routes. “I’ll remember that.”
“Only when there are presents under the tree.” He teases, his own hand sliding under your shirt at your back. Loving how hot you are as he caresses your skin.
“I’ll put a ribbon on my forehead,” you tease, rolling your hips forward in an effort to connect every possible part of your bodies.
“Yeah? You gonna be my present?” He groans at the thought and imagines unwrapping you from the most delicate lingerie you can buy.
“I’d like to be.” The idea that he could be bored of you by then flickers across your mind but you don’t let it stay. Max has never given a single indication that that could happen. He didn’t even spook when your abuela’s letter mentioned a husband, which would have sent any previous boyfriend running for the hills.
“You’re—” There’s a crack of a branch, one that doesn’t sound like it’s from an animal. A scent that is definitely human. Making Max groan as he pulls away from you, putting his finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet.
Being seen is mortifying enough, but the look on Max’s face is seriously displeased and you clam up instantly. A nod of your head is your promise to obey, and you’re instantly pulling your clothes back into place.
“Well, what do we have here?” The condescending tone isn’t one of a displeased hayride worker, it’s more of someone looking for trouble. Max can smell the booze from here he knows that you won’t like being accosted by a drunkard, especially this drunkard.
It should say something that you recognize his slur as easily as his voice, and you know that Max just heard the way your heartbeat jumped into your throat in fear rather than arousal. Still, you stay silent like Max ordered. “Whaddaya got there?” In the dark he can’t see details very well, but he wobbles forward another step with unearned certainty. “Little lady like her hayride?”
“Funny running into you here.” Max keeps his voice slightly jovial with a tinge of warning in it. No need to start hostile. He’s sure that will come later.  “Didn’t take you for the pumpkin patch type.”
Derek reels back slightly when he recognizes Max, his mocking smile dipping down to a frown. “You.” He huffs, craning his neck to look behind the younger man’s large frame. “I’m just out with some new friends,” Derek insists, waving his arm vaguely in back of him as though fifty people should have appeared out of the trees there. “Trying to get to know my girl’s new home a little.”
“Not your girl.” Max reminds him. “You are done. Best thing you can do is leave.”
“Not gonna happen.” Derek informs him with an amused shake of his head. The arrogance rolling off him in waves is different from Max’s breed of cockiness. It’s downright sinister. “And what do you even care, man? You’ve had her, what…a month?” He scoffs at that and takes a swig out of the brown bottle in his hand. “Just go find somebody else. No harm, no foul. No problem between us.”
“There is a problem between us.” Max turns, shielding you from your ex and acting as a barrier between you. “There’s no one else for me. She’s it. So I suggest you find another punching bag to break in. She’s done taking your abuse.”
“That little mouse?” The doubtful expression on Derek’s face is all for show. He hears the resolve in the other man’s voice and sees the set of his shoulders. The only reason he’s certain he could survive going toe-to-toe with this guy is because Derek knows his own speed. “C’mon man,” he takes another step forward, adopting a friendly posture. “I’m doing you a favor here. Trust me.”
“Trust me, pal.” Max snorts and grins evilly. “You don’t want to push me. She is the only reason you are still breathing.”
The habitual haze of alcohol has Derek interpreting that statement entirely backwards, and he moves toward you with all the confidence of a swaggering buffoon. “I knew my girl could never give me up that easily.” After ten fucking years of training you, you had better not.
“Queenie.” Max snarls your nickname, ready to pounce on this piece of shit and tear him apart if he so much as touches a hair on your body. “Leave.”
“Not without you.” As much as you want to get the hell out of here, there’s no way. If Max is still here then you’re staying, and you’re not sure how foolish that deep loyalty is in your decision making but the decision has been made.
“I’m gonna rip your fucking throat out and shit down your neck if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Max warns. “Don’t fucking bother staying around.”
“Baby.” The way Derek turns his eyes to you in the dark is practiced. Measured. And more than a little demanding. “Are you gonna let him threaten me like that, little girl?”
Once upon a time it was baby girl. Crooned and sweet and sighed in your ear to make you feel completely complacent and like he was where you belonged. It was a trick. A nasty, dirty one, and you’re ashamed of yourself for ever falling for such an obvious act. “He can threaten you however he likes,” you tell Derek, though your voice isn’t as strong as the words are. “The second I give him permission, he’ll kill you.”
Derek scoffs and shakes his head. “No he won’t, because he isn’t gonna go to jail for you.”
Max chuckles. “Wanna bet, fuckface?” He growls. “Besides, they would never find you after I’m done with you.”
“They wouldn’t.” You know that. Hell, considering who Max’s sire — your own grandfather is — you doubt there would even be a body left to find. “You should go, Derek.” The kindest thing you can possibly do for this piece of shit is warn him off, but you know that he won’t listen to you. Not now. He never even did when he was pretending to love you.
“I’m not leaving without what is mine.” His face twists into one of pure rage and he reaches into the pocket of the thin jacket he is wearing. The gun in his hand was not what Max had been expecting. Nothing in your few stories about the bastard had ever indicated that he had a penchant for brandishing a weapon. His fangs instantly descend and he’s clenching his fists together as his nails elongate into claws.
The world seems to go into slow motion all at once. As soon as you see the flash of steel in Derek’s hand your mind goes into high gear. You barely register Max’s growl or Derek’s shouting, or even the unsteady pounding of blood in your own ears. All you can think in this split second of terrified panic is that Max is about to be shot. If ever there was a time for your magic to manifest itself, let it be with this moment of intense emotion.
According to all of your grandmother’s letters — and the memories that have begun to spill back into your mind from their locked away place — you have more magic in your little finger than you do strength in your body. And that means something when it’s said about a dancer. Your body propels itself forward, voice calling out to Max to be careful, but all your thoughts are on all the things that will never happen if Derek pulls that trigger. No more dances. No more feeling Max’s heartbeat when you kiss him. No more reading aloud to him. No more dreaming. You’ll never get to spend innumerable lifetimes with this man that you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. That you want to marry. And hadn’t Yayo said his line could even have children? Without Max you would never have the strength and support to try going back in time to see your mother and grandmother again.
“Stop!” Your hand connects with Derek’s wrist at the same moment your other touches Max’s chest, and you push yourself between them with purpose. Only to feel the world turn upside down a moment later.
Max is furious when you move in front of him, knowing that it’s him that can handle whatever this little shit can throw at him. “Noooooo—” his angry yell rips out and he grabs your arm just as something happens and suddenly he feels like he’s being tossed in a tornado.
Rougher than Dorothy getting tossed into Oz, you find yourself face down in the dirt with one hand still clinging to Max just seconds later. It’s darker, somehow — the glow of festive lights from the nearby farm deadens so the moon and stars seem brighter but only from the loss of competition. There’s panting to your other side, and you scramble to your feet to grab the gun that has fallen out of Derek’s hands. Your desire to never touch a weapon in your life is far outweighed by your desire to protect your soulmate.
It takes Max a second to orient himself again, whatever you had just done had fucked with his equilibrium. Taking him longer than normal to situate himself and immediately zooms over to you as soon as you reach the gun.
“Are you okay?” Nothing else matters, and the moment Max is at your side you are wrapping one arm around him tightly and clinging carefully to the butt of the gun with the other. “I-I—I don’t think— I mean I tried to cast a protection spell,” you blurt out, rushing and stammering through the words.
“Are you insane?” Max huffs, shaking his head and his own hands slide over your body to check you for any injuries. “How could you step between me and a gun?”
“He was going to shoot you!” It was instinct, pure and simple, and the grumbling moan that comes from a few feet away signals your entire system to flood with adrenaline all over again. Derek is on his knees in the grass, shaking his head as you raise the weapon with shaky hands. “Was I supposed to just let him hurt you?”
“He wouldn’t have hurt me unless it was a wooden bullet to the heart.” Max huffs, still shaken by how you could have been killed. “Don’t ever do that for me again.”
It isn’t until he spells it out for you that you even realize the stupid mistake you made, and your eyes grow even wider looking at the weapon in your hand before you drop it to your side and instantly look around for a way to get rid of it.
“Goddamn fucking idiot—” As he starts to clamor back to his feet, Derek is cradling his head on one side and practically snarling at you. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing charging at me like that you stupid bitch? I should kill both of you!”
Max’s fangs come down again, beautiful and deadly as he grins. Hoping the bastard keeps coming. Even if you don’t want him to kill Derek, he’s going to.
“What is the meaning of this!” a scandalized voice rings out, and Max pauses, turning to see none other than Mrs. Taylor.
“Mrs. Taylor!” The surprise of seeing her out here outweighs anything else and you jump back, dropping the gun into the grass in the process but Max steps forward immediately to cover half of it with his foot and discourage Derek from trying to grab the thing. “What are you doing here?” In the dark of night, it is difficult to see that her outfit is nothing like what you are used to seeing her in, and clothing certainly isn’t where your mind’s focus is right now.
“I could ask you the same, dear girl.” Her voice is more prim, accent a little crisper, and she surveys your group with the air of a captain on deck of his ship. “Alone with two men unchaperoned. And dressed as a boy! You will be lucky if I do not inform your family. And what could you gentlemen possibly mean, cornering a young lady in the dark woods like this? Anyone would think you had no breeding at all.”
Max relaxes slightly, smirking because he knows that Mrs. Taylor won’t put up with any nonsense out of Derek. Even if she doesn’t quite know who you are yet. There’s a little bit of a reckless history in her past and he flashes her his fangs. “The lady is my wife.” He tells her. “The man is a delusional ex-beau who refuses to believe that we are honeymooning.”
“I see.” The honorable vampire draws herself up to her full height and sets her eyes on each of you carefully. “Then you will attend to the matter yourself? There is nothing but privacy, of course, this late into the night.”
Max hears you inhale roughly and he sighs. Rolling his eyes at the inability to tear the rat apart. “My wife is tenderhearted.” He tells the older vampire. “She does not wish for me to take his life.”
“Why are you being so weird?” Nothing about anything makes sense right now but maybe you’re just missing some kind of vampiric social intricacy.
“You have clearly been unsettled by this intrusion, ma’am.” Mrs. Taylor never seems to break her poise, and as she steps forward into a shaft of moonlight you see that the thing you missed isn’t an intricacy, but something very obvious. The dress she has on is one that you saw in the attic of the mansion barely a week ago. One she said was one hundred and fifty years old. “Allow your husband to escort you home. This gentleman will trouble you no further.” She assures you with a demure, polite smile.
“Come, my dear.” Max turns towards you and even though you are in modern clothing, he offers his elbow to you like he’d seen his sire do with Cookie hundreds of times before. Mrs. Taylor is about to dispose of his problem and while he would love to stay and watch, you shouldn’t. “You don’t want to see this.”
“Don’t walk away from me.” Derek spits, finally pushing himself up on his feet. He must have hit his head on a rock because his hair is matted with blood. “What’s some middle-aged bitch in a Halloween costume gonna do? Scold me?”
She’ll do a hell of a lot more than that if you so much as say the word, but for a moment you truly consider amnesty. But he was going to kill Max. That was his intention, anyway. And while you have taken endless worlds of abuse from him for yourself, you can’t let that intention against your soulmate stand. There is anger brewing in you from that intention. There is so much anger, and a decade of frustrations, fears, and failings to cap it off with. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean over and pick the gun up again to hand it to Max before you turn back to Mrs. Taylor with eyes of stone. “No one will miss him,” you tell her with certainty. “But he still should not be found.”
And understanding passes through her eyes and she nods once. “I assure you, he will never be found.” She says before she turns back to the man who is stumbling forward.
“You stupid bitch, you think you’re through with me? You aren’t done until I say you’re done.” He yells, balling his hand up into a fist.
Despite having an inclination of how poorly your magic obeyed you when you tried to protect Max, your hand shoots out to stop Derek’s just as his juts out. His fist collides with your palm, but instead of hurting you, he yelps in pain and recoils in shock. “I am through with you.” You tell him steadily, though you’re disappointed to find that your palm produced no flames when you look down at it. You had intended to burn him with fire but it seems like your hand only temporarily turned to a lava-like texture. It still did the job though, if the way he’s cradling his hand is any indication. “The whole world is through with you. And history will completely forget your name, just like I will.”
His hand is injured but his ego more so. “He will be bored with you in a week.” He spits. “I was. But I just let you hang around like that unwanted stray.” He wants to lash out at you, feel that hurt rolling off you again. It feeds his need to push around someone else, props him up.
“You wanted someone around to pay your bills.” It hurts to admit, but they say the truth will set you free. In a way, as distorted as it is, it feels a little true. “Go to hell, Derek. And make sure you let the Devil know who sent you when you get there. He’s a friend of the family.”
Max doesn’t allow the shit stain to say another word, whisking you away so you can’t see what Mrs. Taylor does, but within seconds, a panicked, tormented scream starts to echo in the woods. Stopping a few seconds later, nearly five hundred yards from where you had last seen your ex, Max keeps you close.
You shudder visibly, leaning into Max’s side and burying your face in his chest. “Tell me I did the right thing?” You beg quietly, knowing that he deserved worse but not feeling good at all about being the one to deliver it.
“You did the right thing.” He promises sincerely, turning into you and pulling you closer. “He’s— he would have continued until he hurt you again, or worse.”
"He was going to hurt you." Or he thought he was. He intended to. And that matters far more to you than anything else. "And I couldn't—" Your voice cracks a little and you sigh, eyes closing against the weighty truth of the moment. "I couldn't let that happen."
“Sweetheart,” Max sighs softly, pressing his face to your hair and inhaling your mouth-watering scent. “At the risk of sounding completely sexist, I’m supposed to protect you.” He hums. “You are so much braver than you give yourself credit for.”
"It's not about being brave." He said he would protect you and you believe him, but if he's focused on you then he's likely not protecting himself as well as he could. It's a vicious cycle that flashed in your mind and left doubt there, which you are not fond of. "It's..." You sigh into his sweater. "It's that I love you. And I can't stomach the thought of losing you."
“You won’t lose me.” It’s a hollow promise since he’s been brought back once before, but he still kisses your forehead. “You’re stuck with me.” He stares into your eyes and cups your cheeks, making sure you are looking at him. “I love you, Queenie, my queen, my soulmate.”
“And…apparently…your wife?” You do have to crack a smile over it, even as dower as this moment might be otherwise. “That was a surprise, I admit.”
“You will be.” He predicts with certainty. “But…sweetheart, we – whatever you did – we have time traveled back to your letters.”
“No we did not.” There is no way. It’s just not something you’re capable of. “I couldn’t even cast a Protection spell when I tried to. Or conjure a simple flame. There’s no way.”
“Did you see the way that Mrs. Taylor was dressed? The lights have changed and it smells different.” Max insists. “We are back in time.”
The fact that you noticed two of those things doesn’t quite deter your stubborn incredulousness. But it doesn’t stop you from burying yourself against his chest again and shaking with anxious fear. “What—” You blow out a long breath. “What if I can’t get us home again?”
“Obviously you do.” Max reminds you quietly. “Because the letters continued.”
“This is insane.” It feels like a trick. Like the twist of some Halloween film you turned in on Netflix out of boredom. But it is as real as the grass under your feet or Max’s arms around you.
“We need to find Mr. Taylor.” Max huffs. “If she is here, I know he is also around. The best thing we can do is get to the house.”
“What do we even tell them?” You look up at him with doubtful eyes. “We can’t just spew out that I’m family. Who knows when we are? My mother might not even be alive yet.” To make this remarkable journey and not see her would feel awful, but it isn’t as though you simply set a destination in your GPS and drove back in time. This all happened by accident.
“My sire will know that he has made me.” Max promises. “He can smell blood. He will be able to smell your blood as well.”
“I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not,” you admit with a weak smile. But there isn’t time to protest more, as Mrs. Taylor walks out of the woods looking as put-together as ever. Not so much as a hair is out of place.
“That was an unfortunate tasting gentleman.” She huffs and smooths down her dress. “Now, wherever did you come from?” She asks as she looks up and down at your clothing. “Obviously not from around here.”
“It is…a very long story, I think.” Looking over her now, in the clear moonlight, there is no denying it. Mrs. Taylor may look exactly the same as she did this morning in the dining room of your house, but she is also a much different version of herself. And her appearance is undeniably old fashioned. “Unfortunately, it seems that we are without a place to stay or any of our luggage. And…as you will understand…my husband,” calling him that is so odd and yet feels so right. “He is not everyone’s ideal guest.”
“You will come back to the estate with me.” She decides with a jut of her chin. “My mistress will sort everything out and her soulmate has the same inclinations as your husband.”
“We…know of your mistress,” you murmur, looking around to make truly sure there is no one to overhear you. “As her husband shares the inclinations of my own…so, so I share with your mistress’.”
Her brow furrows and she is curious about how you know about Cookie Brown. “A vampire and a witch… interesting.” She looks past you to where her own soulmate is pulling into the clearing with a cart. “And our ride.”
“I suppose it behooves you both to get work done at night.” The cart is full of barrels and things stacked up under oilcloth, and you accept help from both Max and Mr. Taylor in getting you up onto the bench of the cart.
“Our skin is sensitive to the sun. We cannot be out for many hours during daylight.” She explains. “But your husband should experience the same issue.”
“He does.” You reach for Max and squeeze his hand once he’s seated behind you. “Our…carriage…has darkened windows. To allow him comfortable travel.”
“That is good. Modern conveniences have made our existence easier.” She nods as the four of you start to move. “What brings you to our area?” She asks. “There has been no request for a coven transfer.”
“I am afraid it is not an easy matter.” And you have no idea if you’re even talking the right way, let alone explaining yourself well, but so far just pretending you’re in a Jane Austen novel or an episode of Downton Abbey seems to be working. “But my husband and I had thought to take a house here in town.”
“I am afraid that you will find that houses here are few.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “My mistress and her soulmate built their estate.”
The carriage ride takes far longer than the little ride in Max’s sports car did to get out here, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It will help you to get a handle on the situation, if nothing else, because the situation is a very big one. “We have heard it is very grand.” You commend, nodding at the mention of the house you’ve come to think of as home. “With forty acres and a view of the sea, they say? It must be very grand.”
“People love to talk.” She’s suspicious, but you look familiar in some way although she cannot pinpoint how. Something about your eyes.
“They do.” Sensing you might be overstepping; you walk back your interest and squeeze Max’s hand gently. “Thank you again, ma’am. For helping us.”
“My mistress would be very upset if I did not help someone of her kind in need.” She tells you.
“But you did not yet know that your mistress and I were alike when you stepped in.” The smile you offer her is sincere and deeply felt, and you practically bow your head. “We are most grateful.”
“I heard the shouting and the vile curses.” Her placid expression turns into a fierce frown. “Disgusting man. Were you really entangled with him before?”
"I cannot deny it." Though you dearly wish you could. Although...none of that matters now. It is over, done with, and truly a thing of the past. An irony which does not escape you at all. "Before I met my husband, of course." You add quickly.
“Meeting one’s soulmate has a way of making the past fade from memory, does it not?” Mr. Taylor is the one who speaks up, looking fondly as his own.
There is no way to deny that, and you turn back to Max again with the sort of honest smile that seems specifically reserved these days to be just for him. "More than I ever could have expected."
“Again, we thank you for your hospitality.” Max murmurs. His fingers slide under your shirt to caress your skin reassuringly.
"The master will be about when we arrive, no doubt, and he will see to any arrangements for you after I have explained how we have all come to be acquainted." Mrs. Taylor tells you both. "And, of course, your lady wife will require rest."
“She will.” Max acknowledges with a nod of his head. He’s drained after whatever magic spell you used so he knows that you are probably even more tired due to still being human.
Conversation is polite but not overly familiar as the ride drags on, and by the time the horses are pulling the four of you down Bellevue Avenue with Chateau-sur-Mer in sight, you're practically asleep on Max's shoulder. It's only the sight of the house that perks you up again, realizing that you've come back in time far enough that the landscaping is drastically different. The huge weeping beech outside your front door is nowhere to be seen and neither is the hedge maze in the north garden. For the first time you realize that your beloved teahouse might not be here, either.
“Wow.” Max whistles and shakes his head. “Those hedges can hide so many bodies.”
Mr. Taylor chuckles, glancing over at their passenger in amusement. "The upper class like to play at a bit of mystery. Keeping the house half hidden is a game the mistress likes to play."
“I like the idea of privacy.” He admits. “They should have kept them. It complements the gothic vibe of the house.”
"Should have?" Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow in question as her own soulmate steers the horses and cart toward the service door of the house on the other side of the east wing.
“An estate we were close to, back home.” Max supplies quickly, with a shrug. “They tore out their maze.”
"A shame." That has the vampiric housekeeper nodding in understanding. "Such a feature is a talking point, at the very least. One that humans seem to enjoy very much." When the carriage comes to a halt, Mrs. Taylor lifts herself out with ease and dusts her hands on her skirt. "Come inside," she beckons toward the service door. "I will have you wait below stairs while I inform the master of your circumstances."
Max helps you down and immediately takes your hand. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, aware that Mrs. Taylor can still hear every word he says. “We are safe and together.”
"This is where I feel safest," you tell him honestly, holding onto his one hand with both of yours. Whether the assembled vampires take that to mean this house or with Max is up to them. "It's all just...so much has happened the last few days. And now this?"
“At least now, you completely understand that the visit was a joy. You can relax.” He smirks, squeezing your hand. “And we can still sleep in the same bed. Or…you can sleep.”
"I will return momentarily," Mrs. Taylor tells you with a polite smile before she disappears up the stairs faster than any human housekeeper would ever be able to manage.
“At least we know the layout.” He jokes quietly as he pulls you closer to cuddle against him. Knowing that despite the letter, you are anxious.
“I guess that’s true.” Despite it, though, the nerves running through you are heavy and stinging. What was once a perfectly beautiful date night has spiraled out of control. “I just hope you’re right and he lets us stay.”
“He will let us stay.” Max is confident in that. He might not understand the connection quite yet, but the blood running through your veins is his and he will smell it.
“I hope so.” The house might be the same but all the mechanisms are different. The Viking appliances that outfit the current kitchen are obviously nowhere to be seen, and the great, coal burning, cast iron monstrosity that sits against the wall here looks more complicated to use than you could ever wrap your head around. Mr. Taylor pops in and out of the delivery door toting things off the cart from the farm with his immense strength but does not use his uncanny speed, and you wonder if he is trying to be discreet around a mortal. That sounds just like him.
“This is like living in the twilight zone.” Max snorts and shakes his head and looks around the vastly different kitchen. “I wonder what the bathrooms will look like.”
“Rene said the master bathroom on the second floor was the only bathroom on the second floor until the renovations they did in 1872.” Leaning into his side, a layer of anxiety and tension eases away when Max’s arms come around you and hold you tightly against him. “From the look of the house, it’s after that. But I saw the formal entrance on our way in, and that was closed off in 1893, so we’re somewhere in that twenty-year span between renovations.”
"So how old was your mother during that time?" Max frowns slightly, trying to keep the timeline in order in his mind.
“Yayo said they built the house when abuela Cookie was pregnant, so…at the youngest maybe around twenty? Or as old as forty, depending on what end of that spectrum of time we’ve arrived in.” It’s mind boggling, but the idea of seeing your mother again makes you feel infinitely less dreary about the entire prospect.
"We should not say anything about our true origins until we speak to him." Max tells you. He knows that you would never affect the future on purpose, but you might slip up and greet her as your mother and you can't do that. Not when you haven't been born yet. "We will see what your grandfather says."
“Believe me, I’ve read enough time travel stories and seen enough movies to know that you don’t fuck with the timeline.” The prospect of it terrifies you, if you’re honest, and you have to shake it off quickly. “I’m done with changing anything. But…what’s done is done.”
"Absolutely." He nods quickly and his fingers squeeze your reassuringly. "Do not even think about that unfortunate episode at the farm. "We know it was successful because she had written to you about it."
“I’m glad you’re here,” you murmur into his chest, knowing he’ll hear you all the same. “I think I’d be scared out of my mind if you weren’t.”
"I'm glad I'm here too." He admits quietly. "Although.....my phone doesn't work here." He jokes, attempting to lighten the worry and unsettling unease of the moment.
For just a second you think he might be serious, but in looking at his face, your lips twist into a smirk. “I’m sure your clients will forgive a short absence.”
"I need to text." He huffs, playing up the joke a little more. "My fingers are burning with the need."
“Then I suggest you learn the art of sending a note,” you murmur, hearing very deliberate steps out in the servants’ hall. “Because until I can learn how to send us back correctly, I can’t just take a chance on my magic getting us home by accident.”
"I am sure that with my business savvy and romantic heart..." He grins at you and winks. "I will be sending missives that will stand the test of time." He vows, holding his hand over his non-beating heart. "Love notes, dirty notes."
Mrs. Taylor clears her throat politely in the doorway and nods in an equal sore off manners. “Follow me,” she intones, and it feels very much more like an order than a suggestion.
He raises his eyebrows and makes a comical face as she whirls around and the two of you follow her down the hall. "I have to admit that the lanterns give the hall a proper....austere look." He whispers to you, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor can hear him.
“The estate has the finest of everything available to it.” She commends, heading for the servants’ stairs at a brisk pace that gives Max no trouble but you have to hurry to keep up with. “It is the greatest house in Newport without competition.”
"I am sure the Vanderbilts would disagree." He chuckles under his breath.
The absolutely derisive huff Mrs. Taylor exhales is fully for show, and you have to admit that you love her for it. She obviously doesn’t care a fig for those new money millionaires who built up the palaces along Bellevue Avenue that are now museums. “That cottage they bought from Mr. Lorillard is no match for a house of this grandeur,” she asserts proudly.
Max snickers, appreciating that he can still get under her skin and yet she's just as poised as she always is. "Of course not." He agrees with a serious nod. "Peasant’s cottages."
Your little trio emerges upstairs and Mrs. Taylor deposits you in the library with one more polite nod of her head. “He will be in momentarily,” she tells you, before heading back to the servants’ side of the house. If you Mrs. Taylor at all she’s off to make up a bed and probably a tea tray, but that is just a guess.
Max snorts as he walks around the room. "Good to know they still had the same taste back then." He tells you. "Or is it now?" He asks with a tilt of his head. "This is going to get confusing."
“Aren’t you the one who always says the house is a time capsule?” The chair sitting at the large library desk isn’t exactly the same, but it was definitely from the same maker. Maybe even the same set. “Fair warning. If Yayo makes me wear those giant dresses while we’re here, you’re going to have to help me keep my balance.”
He throws his head back and laughs just as the door opens and your grandfather appears. “It seems as if I have missed a joke.” He muses, his sharp eyes narrowing on the two of you.
Whatever instinct it is that’s ingrained in you, the relieving sight of your grandfather almost makes you stumble forward to hug him. It’s only the fact that you are holding Max’s arm that stops you, and you end up nodding nervously. “We’re…very sorry to intrude like this,” you start, hoping that sounds appropriately contrite.
“No, no you are not.” He hums, arching a brow. “You are relieved, but not apologetic.”
"Sorry to intrude," you clarify, though you swallow thickly at the fact that this is obviously not the doting grandfather you knew as a child. "But not to be offered sanctuary. In that, you are correct."
“And why should I offer sanctuary to a vampire and his mate who somehow smell like my progeny?” His head tilts and his fangs descend into a pair of sharp needles extending from his gums.
There seems to be no beating about the bush tonight, and you look over at Max with a plaintive expression though you both know that this is your story to tell. "Because we are." You tell him honestly, keeping your voice as whisper quiet as you can possibly manage. "In different ways. And it is a long story, but we didn't come here with any...nefarious purpose. In fact...it was an accident. Sort of."
In the blink of an eye, your grandfather is beside you, his hand around Max’s wrist and his fingernail sliced into his skin. The elder vampire's lips wrap around the wound as he tastes the other vampire’s blood and he reels back. “I have never seen you, yet it is my blood that travels in your veins?” His voice is astonished and mystified as he stares at Max curiously.
"I am afraid it is...an unusual story." And one that you are going to have to tell, whether you like it or not. A fact which makes your heart thump with nerves.
He turns to you and leans in close, inhaling your scent. While you are human, you are the soulmate of a vampire. To touch you would be a grave sin. “You smell like my daughter.”
“I should.” You don’t flinch the way someone else might have when he gets close to you and he notes it with a flick of his eyes and nothing more. “I am her daughter.”
The smell of you proves that, but he knows that his daughter hasn’t given birth. “Explain.”
“I…attempted a spell that was more powerful than any other I have tried before.” It isn’t worth mentioning that you haven’t tried much of any spell work at all before, so you keep that to yourself. “But I was able to make us travel through time by some mechanism that I don’t yet understand.”
“And my biological granddaughter managed to transport herself and her soulmate – my vampiric offspring – back in time.” Your grandfather fills in, talking mostly to himself. You nod and he is silent for a moment. “We will keep this to ourselves.” He decides, softening immediately. “You will be related through your soulmate.” Turning towards Max, he arches a brow. “What is your name? I must know it at some point, since-”
Max introduces both of you, making sure he calls you Queenie like you had discussed before. If Yayo is going to be the only one to know the truth, it makes sense to just be straightforward about most things. What you don’t want to do, however, is influence any future decisions if you can help it.
Your grandfather nods. “Cookie will be interested to meet you. As well as your mother.” He cups your cheek again and stares at you, memorizing your face. “You are beautiful. Do I tell you that in your proper time?”
“You do.” His cool hand is a welcome sensation against your hot skin and you nod softly against it. “You are always very kind to me.”
“Good.” Your answer pleases him and he smiles, his fangs once again hidden from sight. “Cookie will have settled down for the evening, so I will show you the bedroom Mrs. Taylor has no doubt prepared for you.” He glances at your clothes. “She will sort out suitable clothing. You cannot wear that.” He gestures towards your outfit.
“It certainly doesn’t seem that way.” Which is frustrating, if not realistic. You like your clothes most of the time. “But…what should we call you?” You ask after a moment. “I can’t go around calling you ‘grandfather’.”
“As you can imagine, I have had many identities through the times.” It’s almost bragging, but not quite. “For now, I am John Jacob Brown, residing here with my wife, Cookie and our daughter.”
“Mr. Brown.” Of course that makes perfect sense, and you nod accordingly. But it does make you wonder what his original name was. “And she is…here? Now? Annie?” It’s impossible not to ask, even though you know you shouldn’t make a big deal out of seeing your mother.
“By now, if you have come from as great a time in the future as I imagine, you know by now that your mother is far older than she appears.” He smiles proudly, happy he can provide centuries of life to his offspring to enjoy. “Right now. She is thirty-one. A ‘spinster’ by the collective society, yet she still receives callers regularly.”
“I would guess that most of society does not know her real age,” you venture, before looking up at Max. “Mom always had a baby face. It really was impossible to know how old she was.”
Your grandfather’s eyes flicker between you and your partner, not missing the terms you are using to describe your mother. Past tense, as if she is no longer in your life. “She appears to be eighteen.” He nods and Max snorts. “Sweetheart, you should look in the mirror. You don’t look twenty-one yourself.”
“It runs in the family,” you joke quietly, always glad for any way you could be positively compared to your mother.
“Have you eaten?” Your grandfather asks and then shakes his head. “I meant the vampire; I know that Mrs. Taylor has prepared a tray to have sitting in your room.” His eyes crinkle in amusement.
It is something of a comfort to know that Mrs. Taylor has always been the same, and you smile at how pleased the vampire housekeeper would be to know that the house still operates like a well-oiled machine under her supervision. “Actually…Mrs. Taylor takes wonderful care of us, still. So Max had blood at tea today.”
“I see.” He nods in understanding. “When you are needing some, we have a donor, so the supply is fresh.”
You both thank him, not wanting to say too much about your own time and give away more than you have. When Mrs. Taylor appears a moment later to escort you to your room, it is only at the prospect of sleep that you really start to feel how exhausted you are.
“Don’t worry, Dolly.” Max murmurs as the two of you are guided through the familiar halls. It’s not as if you can say that you know the way since you’ve supposedly never been in this house. “I will not leave you during the night.”
The third-floor guest room you are shown to has a big, beautiful canopy bed carved in Chinese imagery and with a typically Chinese element in the carvings. Renee had told you once that he took Cookie to China when they were first married and she had loved it there. As far as you know, this is known as the Gold Room, and judging by the even more brilliant color of the gold silk brocade wall coverings and golden bedclothes, it probably is called that in this time as well.
“The bell cord is right here.” Mrs. Taylor wraps her hand around a gold braid rope. “If you require anything, just pull it sharply and we will be up.”
“Thank you,” a simple nod seems to work best, but you chew your bottom lip nervously and add, “for everything.”
“My pleasure.” She nods and motions towards the sitting area. “There is a tray with some refreshments if you wish.”
“Thank you,” you murmur again, barely stopping yourself from assuring her that she always takes such good care of you. Yayo says your origin needs to remain a secret from everyone else, and you absolutely understand why.
Once Mrs. Taylor leaves the room, Max turns to you and cups your cheek. “When you want to talk about it, sweetheart…why don’t we call it ‘back home’?” He suggests. “I know this will be hard, but we can do this, we did this before.”
“It’s hard to wrap my head around.” With your face in his hands, your shoulders droop from pure exhaustion rather than anything else, and you sigh. “We’ll say we’re from Tennessee? Since that’s where we would have met if things had gone differently?”
“Perfect.” He winks at you. “I’ll adopt a hillbilly accent and everything.” He teases, knowing that he was nothing but happy in Tennessee before he was kicked out of Vanderbilt.
“Don’t push it.” Even though you try for a warning tone it comes out in a laugh. “I’m so fucking grateful you’re here, honey. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Sweetheart, we are in this together.” He promises, leaning in and giving you a soft kiss on the lips, relishing the sudden bump of his heart. Something he doesn’t know if he will ever get used to and he loves it.
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Without that solidarity, with his utter and complete support, you really don’t know how you would manage whatever is to come. But with him? You just might be able to make it work.
______
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