#Kane fic

[lunarwritesthings]

here's a fic idea(kinda) that I had

We know Kane can switch between "normal" Kane and demon Kane. What if Kane can truly feel other than those shows with the demon. For example, feeling like guilt, happiness, sadness, and more. Like what if young Kane, the one before the fire, the one that loved his family is still alive but has just been buried so deep within Kane that it's locked away with most if not all the memories from that time because of all the trauma that happened during and after the fire, but that part still knows normal feeling that are anything but normal to Kane so he's confused by the feeling that can sneak through the walls and affect him but there someone that can unlock that part of him with the help of his brother.

That's all I came up with mainly because it was multiple thoughts that came together. Tbh, anyone can use this. Just give credit, I probably wouldn't write this very well.

[everwalldigan]

Bruce: *waking up in a hospital that he drove himself to after having a heart attack and telling absolutely nobody* hey…

The entirety of the batclan looking over him with Dick in the centre, an absolute terrifying grin on his face:

Dick: hello Bruce, nice evening isn’t it? Got something to share with us?

Edit: the fic is now out on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57780508

[veryrockyraccoon]

I think the Batfam acts differently outside of Gotham than they do in Gotham

They’re more intense in Gotham, lean more heavily into the cryptid/eldrich horror thing. They move in a way that’s not quite human, their words are just too close to chirps and whistles.

Outside of Gotham they behave like normal humans, well as normal as they can be with all their training.

This leads to theories that they’re all pretending to be human but because Gotham is their home or because of all the cursed/supernatural things there they can’t hide their own supernatural nature aswell. People also believe this is why they’re more aggressive in Gotham.

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim (raised eyebrow): Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim (missing the point): You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie (woefully): It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie (staring at the ceiling): I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie (sincerely): Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

---------------------------------------------

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

---------------------------------------

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

---------------------------------------

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)

some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry

title: the dancer and the angel part 3

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??

parts: part 1 part 2 part 4

warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

GRAYSON’S POV

Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-

I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.

Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.

I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.

I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.

“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.

It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.

It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.

“No,” I reply.

My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.

“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.

I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?

Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.

“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.

I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.

I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.

But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.

“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.

“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I’ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.

“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.

A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.

But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.

“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.

“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.

I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.

“Leave Grayson.”

I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.

***

Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.

911

***

The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?

The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.

I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.

She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.

I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.

I know her.

I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.

“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”

His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.

“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.

“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.

I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.

“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.

“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.

The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.

“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”

“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.

I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.

“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.

“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.

“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”

“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.

Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”

“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.

“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”

The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained

“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.

I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”

He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”

I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“

“What happened?” Nash drawls.

I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.

“I kissed Lyra.”

The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”

Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.

Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“

Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.

“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”

Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.

“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.

Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.

“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”

“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.

“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.

“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”

“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.

“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.

“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.

“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.

“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.

“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.

“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“

“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.

“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.

“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.

“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”

“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.

“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”

“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.

“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”

“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”

I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.

“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”

“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.

“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”

“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.

“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.

“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”

“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.

“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“

“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.

“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“

Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.

“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”

“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.

“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.

“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”

“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”

“Jameson,” Nash says.

He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”

“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”

“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”

“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”

“Good you should!” he screams back.

Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.

“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.

“Jameson.”

He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.

“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”

Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.

“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”

Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.

“Talk.”

I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“

“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”

“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”

She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.

“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.

Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“

I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.

“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.

“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“

I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.

“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”

I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.

“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.

“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”

Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”

“I made a mistake,” I press on.

“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”

“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.

“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.

“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”

“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn’t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.

“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.

“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.

No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.

“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”

“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”

“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.

“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.

“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”

“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“

“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.

I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.

“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.

He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.

“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”

I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.

Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.

“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.

Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.

“Honestly?” Xander asks.

I nod

“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.

“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”

“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.

“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”

Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”

“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”

“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”

“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”

“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”

“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.

“You don’t-“

“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“

“Grayson-“ Nash begins.

“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.

My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.

“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”

The change of tense makes my soul ache.

“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”

I nod numbly, robotically.

“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”

Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.

He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”

Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.

“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.

Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”

“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”

“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”

“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.

“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.

“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.

“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.

I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.

“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,

Nash shakes his head softly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.

“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”

The room grows still.

“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.

“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.

“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.

“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”

“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,

“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.

“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”

My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”

“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.

‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.

“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.

Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.

“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.

“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.

“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”

“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.

They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.

“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”

They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.

I can barely breathe, “who died?”

“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”

“What?” I say, my tone deadly,

Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.

“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”

“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.

“Gigi’s missing.”

The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.

***

YOUR POV

I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.

I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”

Only me, huh? Only me…

The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.

***

I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?

There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.

idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…

I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always

TIG masterlist

[applysome]

Things that broke my brain in Gif format: part 1

The Dream Synopsis - Europavox Festival

[ultraxavbo]

It makes me laugh a lot to think that most people have this idea that Bruce Wayne doesn't know how to do household chores, such as cooking, washing his clothes, etc. But if you think about it, I'm very sure that if he knows how to do household chores because when he had to leave to be able to train like Batman he had to be completely independent since he didn't have Alfred to help him with that.

[johnlennon-as-a-tv-chef]

Reminder that Alex Turner knows about Milex fanfiction and had the most bizarro response when a journalist asked him about it. He said,

"I’ve been told about it… Stories where we slip into one another. Does One Direction have that? And who fucks who? They fuck all at once? And they don’t want to write stories where we fuck the One Direction? Like Cadbury who puts in the same packets Dairy Milk and Ritz crackers?”

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

the justice league had an undercover mission where a they try to track down a intergalactic intruder who is introducing alien drugs to humans, to do so some members attend a masquerade gala in pairs to find and interrogate a high society couple who have been in close proximity of the drug before and most probably got effected by it without their knowledge, but they aren't the safest people so they have to take some samples and and ask them questions about it without them getting suspicious, basically have to get them to trust you, so the justice league figured that someone who Is good a infiltration and interrogation should go! So they decide on batman with a bit of hesitation cause they don't know if he can act or not, batman realises this and tells them he will bring batwoman with him to make it look more believable

And so they go to the gala and and the justice league (some on coms and some actually there but just spying on them incase something bad happens) asks him how in the world would he get close to them, he simply replies "I am aware I have a flattering face and body, and I'm willing to use it" the justice league goes crazy after calming down just a bit (they didn't) they think "we should have realised batsy would be willing to do anything for a mission but GODAMN" and they expect batman to chat up the women and batwoman the man

Batman however approaches the man and batwoman the women

To their horror batwomen is flirting with the wife and the husband is now on top of batman

What the fuck is going on

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

Brothers and Cliffs

authors note: alright i have a TON of requests (not just here, but also on my main) and yes i am going to get around to doing those, but i had this idea for a fic for a long time and really wanted to write it, so yeah! this fic takes place in either glorious rivals or the grandest game, but just pretend that they don’t know gigis kidnapped yet 😭

——————————————————————————

Lyra knew she was on the brink of getting eliminated. She knew it, and her heart froze in her chest from the acknowledgment of that fact. Gasping for air as she finally stopped running all around the island, she doubled over, placing her hands on her knees.

“Giving up so soon?” A British taunt interjected. Lyra turned her head, and saw Rohan leaning against a dead tree, smirking at her. She knew that he already knew the answer to the riddle, knew that she was the only one left who didn’t yet, and anger bubbled inside of her.

“No.” She spat, standing up as straight as she could before sprinting off, away from him. Her heart ricocheted in her chest, and Lyra tried to slow her breathing so she could think and not cry. She continued to run, before a sudden image made her halt to a stop. She stalked slowly to the tree, not sure if her eyes were fooling her. There, on the tree, she could just barely see a circle where the ridges didn’t co-align with the others. Lyra knew that was possible, but there was something about the perfection of the circle that made her freeze in the first place. Placing her fingernails into the tiny cracks, she grabbed the small circle of the tree the best she could and tugged. The part of the tree came out, leaving an empty hole inside. Lyra immediately crammed her fingers inside the hole, grabbing at it, before feeling paper and pulling it out. With her heart jolting in her chest, Lyra unwrapped the paper, before readings its contents:

“Without me and within me is death assured, with me and within you is life most pure.”

Lyra paused for only a moment. Water. There was no way it was that easy. That was, until a sudden memory of Jameson Hawthorne speaking to all of the contestants washed over her.

“Don’t be so sure,” Jameson said to Rohan in front of all of us, a reply to when Rohan teased Savannah about wanting to scale her walls. “Scaling walls is harder than one might think.”

Scaling walls. Lyra remembered a “wall” that would be harder to scale than one might think, a wall that stood just over a body of water. The cliff.

Without a moments hesitation, Lyra looked up at the sky, realized it couldn’t be more than 5 minutes till sunset, and took off towards the cliff.

Lyra knew she was getting closer to the cliffs by not only the feel of the wind on this side of the island, but also by the amount of contestants and Hawthornes she saw waiting. She saw Brady Daniels. Savannah Grayson. Jameson Hawthorne. Nash Hawthorne. Xander Hawthorne. Avery Grambs. Grayson, however, was no where to be seen.

Lyra’s mind lingered on that fact longer than she had any right to.

Running closer towards the cliff, a voice slowed her down.

“I know you know the answer by now, and I’m just telling you that if you try to scale that cliff in the time you have left, you are going to get hurt in the process.” Nash Hawthornes Texas drawl told her, as he sat up against the ruins, strumming a guitar. He looked up at her. “There has to be a length you aren’t willing to take, and if there is one, it should be this.” Pettiness rose in her chest. She still had time. 2 minutes, at the most, but time. An idea flashed through her, and, huffing out a breath, she tied her hair up with the small black elastic on her wrist.

“You seem pretty sure about that.” She retorted, determination clear on her face. Lyra figured out a way to find the answer she needed. She wasn’t going to scale the cliff. She didn’t need to.

She started to run, going farther away from Nash Hawthorne and closer towards the cliff. She ran. And ran. And when she was sure there was only a minute left on her time, she ran even more, coming closer towards the edge, slowing to a halt once she finally did.

And then she jumped.

GRAYSON:

Grayson walked out of the ruins, making his way towards Jameson, before a figure caught his eye. Lyra. Grayson held a breath as he watched her talk to Nash. He had looked all over the island, trying desperately to find her and try to help her through the riddle and its answer. She had, what, a minute left? There was a good chance that she wouldn’t make it, and Grayson knew what he would do if that were true. Start a trust fund for her brothers. Try and help with Mile’s End. He knew that Lyra would refuse any financial help, but he would try his best. And then what would happen if she left? What would happen to them?

An annoying voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“I think I’m the first to tell you this, Gray, but wistfully looking at the love of your life is supposed to only be a thing that happens in movies.” Grayson turned towards Jameson, raising a brow and snapping out of his daze.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated, despite Avery’s giggle beside Jamie.

“You two need to stop fighting so mu-“ Avery didn’t even get to finish before Jameson’s voice interrupted hers.

“What the hell?” He said, his voice intense. It was so sudden that Grayson froze, turning his gaze to where Jameson’s was. Grayson watched with horror as Lyra ran closer to the edge, before suddenly, with a jump, leaping off. Grayson hesitated. He paused, frozen alongside his brother who was no doubt thinking the same thing that Grayson was, and he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life. Staying frozen while Lyra could be de-

Grayson didn’t let himself finish that thought before breaking into a sprint towards the cliff.

LYRA:

Lyra turned the best she could in air, reading the message carved into the cliff wall only a second before falling into the water. She ran it over in her head, thinking about it as she scrambled to come above the freezing cold water.

“I am a mother and a father, but have never given birth. I am rarely still, but I never wander. What am I?”

Lyra thought it over. Then she thought over what her mother had said once to her when she was 13 and they were walking through a trail. What she said about the “most nurturing parents of the forest.” And then she thought about where she got her original riddle from.

A tree.

She barely had time to feel relieved before a wave hit her aggressively, dragging her under.

GRAYSON:

Grayson finally made it to the shore of the water below the cliff where Lyra should be, searching the water for her. He barely saw her come above the water, before getting sucked back under. Fear threatened to hold him under, but he pushed it, and the memory of Emily doing this exact same thing with him, down. With a shuddering breath, he took off his suit jacket as fast as he could and dove into the water. With his eyes open, he could just barely see her figure under the crashing waves, and then he was swimming towards her, and bringing her body to his. Her eyes opened once he brought her body to his chest and hooked one hand under her knees with his other arm wrapped around her upper back. She looked even more beautiful underwater. Grayson tried his best not to mull on that, but he still nonetheless drank the feel of her body pressed against his chest in like wine. Ignoring the aggressive waves, he swam back up to shore, holding her body in his arms as he saw his brothers, Avery, and the other contestants run over to them.

“What the hell was that?” Jameson demanded, his gaze turned to Lyra. Grayson could tell by his large pupils that he was also seeing a glimpse of what happened to Emily in Lyra. Avery had her hand on Jameson’s arm, but from his past demand, she took his hand in hers, turning his attention away from Lyra and Grayson almost immediately. Grayson placed Lyra down gently, ignoring his shaking hands as he took his suit jacket off the floor, shook off some sand, and draped it over her shoulders. Lyra immediately pulled it closer towards her, shivering. She was about to speak, when Grayson interjected.

“You could have gotten hurt, Lyra. Then what would happen?” He asked, his voice more hoarse than he wanted to admit. Lyra paused, her mouth stuck open, as her brows furrowed. She shut her mouth then, shrugging as she instead turned to Nash.

“I told you that you seemed too sure about the fact that there were lengths I wouldn’t take.” She told Nash simply. Grayson mulled on that, grappling with a calm that he didn’t in any way feel. Jameson paused, before nodding.

“You did what you had to do, reckless or not. Although I do feel that as Game Master I should warn you away from cliffs and danger in general, as we don’t need one of the contestants to kill themself half way through the Grandest Game.” He said, his pupils finally shrinking. Grayson whipped his head towards Jameson, as his mind still grappled with what was going on.

“This isn’t a joke, Jameson. She could have-” Died. Grayson paused, his voice guttural. Lyra turned to him with a raised brow, but Grayson kept his gaze firmly on Jameson. “She could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“I did just say that, didn’t I?” Jameson retorted, with a raised brow. In Grayson’s mind, he could see the image of Emily jumping off the cliff. Then, he saw Jameson’s smirk a mere few days after the incident. He was already making a joke of things.

“Are you serious?” Grayson was going to continue, before Nash cut him off.

“Enough, Grayson.” He warned. Grayson turned to him. “This isn’t about her.” Nash didn’t have to say who the “her” was for Grayson to know what he was getting at. Emily.

“Her?” Rohan and Lyra asked simultaneously. Grayson’s gaze turned to Lyra. He watched how her brows furrowed ever so slightly, before she turned her attention to Avery. Grayson could see her brain working through the events of tonight, trying to connect them to the Hawthorne heiress in some way. She opened her mouth to speak, before Grayson cut in.

“Not Avery.” He interjected. Lyra snapped her mouth shut, and Grayson held her gaze for only a few seconds before turning to his brothers. He planned on lecturing Jameson more on what jokes were and weren’t appropriate to make, before Savannah interrupted.

“Then who?” She asked, her expression calm as she raised a brow. Lyra, Rohan, and Brady all turned to him expectantly, but he wasn’t planning on giving them an actual answer.

“It doesn’t matter.” He stated, his voice meant to shut the topic down. Jameson raised a brow at him.

“Are you sure, Grayson,” He asked slowly. “That it doesn’t matter to you?” A flicker of anger sparked in Grayson’s chest.

“I could say the same for you, Jamie.” He replied, his tone cool and collected despite the anger building inside of him. Jameson rolled his eyes.

“You have to get over it at some point, Grayson. When’s that stick finally gonna come out of your ass?” He said, his voice louder than before.

“I am getting over it. When are you going to get over that nonchalant nothing-matters attitude? When are you going to finally take things seriously?” He retorted, his eyes narrowing at Jameson. Nash and Avery both interjected, telling the two of them to cool down as Xander watched nervously, but Grayson couldn’t believe it. Would he be cracking jokes at Lyra’s funeral? Making light of things while she’s in the hospital, bleeding out from impact? Grayson didn’t know.

“This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been, Grayson. Don’t act like part of your personality isn’t being a bitch.” Jameson spat right back, stepping closer to Grayson. Grayson’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t argued with his brothers like this in years. But seeing Lyra on the brink of getting hurt made him…. act different. Maybe it was about Emily. Or maybe the idea of losing Lyra was one that he just couldn’t bear. Grayson took a step forward, before Lyra’s hand shot out to hold his arm.

“What the hell are you doing, Grayson? Calm down.” She told him. Grayson turned to meet her eyes, feeling more calm than he had moments ago from the feel of her warm hand over his arm, before a voice brought that anger back.

“Yeah, Grayson,” Jameson taunted, his eyes hard as stone. “Calm down.”

“Don’t taunt him.” Nash warned Jameson quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Behind Nash, Grayson could see Savannah and Rohan send each other interested glances. He didn’t like fighting with his brothers, especially in front of other people, but right now, he couldn’t help it.

“Or what?” Grayson retorted, his eyes dragging back to Jameson’s. A flash of anger entered his eyes, and that’s when the retorts just kept coming.

“The fuck do you mean, or what? It’s not like you’re going to do anything. You’ve always been too scared to ruin that perfect reputation you’ve got going on.” Jameson said, his voice intense as he took a step closer.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grayson replied slowly.

“I do know what I’m talking about. When are you finally going to get over this bullshit?”

“Oh, you always bring it back to that.”

“Like it’s my fucking fault!” Jameson paused, running a hand through his hair. “Grayson. Do you seriously think that I don’t understand what you’re going through?” Jameson’s voice was more quiet now. And Grayson wanted to hear him out. He really did. But suddenly, a rush of emotions overtook him, and Grayson squeezed his eyes shut. It was only for a second, but still, when he opened his eyes, he was met with Jameson’s pitying ones. He didn’t want pity. And he knew, in his heart, that his grandfather would be disappointed in him for even craving the smallest bit of it.

“I think,” Grayson said calmly, stepping back as his face turned neutral in seconds. “That you haven’t figured out how to take anything seriously yet.” Grayson gave Jameson an unbothered stare, and that must have been the straw that broke the camels back, because in seconds, Jameson flipped him onto the ground.

“When will you grow up, Gray?” Jameson spat, staring Grayson dead in the eyes. Grayson returned the look, flipping him onto his back as he grappled for the upper hand.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Grayson retorted furiously. The two were in a fighting match, on the ground as different verbal assaults came flying from the both of them. Nash tried to break them up, but they seemed to be ignoring him, too caught up in their own wrestling match.

“What are you doing, Grayson? Get up.” Grayson recognized that honey rich voice immediately. Lyra. He tried to turn around and look at her, but his brother used the distraction as an opportunity to get the upper hand.

“You’re fucking unbelievable Grayson.” He spat.

“Please, spare me from your disappointment.” Grayson retorted sarcastically.

“Grayson, that’s enough.” A guttural voice that Grayson identified as Avery’s spoke up. Jameson immediately froze, his lips parting.

“It’ll be enough as soon as it’s enough for Jameson.” Grayson replied in a cool manner. Jameson’s gaze ripped back to Grayson’s, a sneer on his face.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You. First.”

“What the actual fuck are you two doing?” Grayson froze as his head whipped towards where the angry voice came from. Lyra stood with her arms crossed, her face in disbelief as she ripped off Graysons jacket and threw it on him. Grayson peeled the suit jacket off his face, his brother having stopped fighting too, as he stared up at Lyra.

“Well?” She asked him. Grayson paused, uncertain of what to do. She seemed even more furious at that fact, stepping closer to him as a flicker of anger entered her eyes. She pointed her finger in his face.

“Get. Up. You. Asshole.” She enunciated with each point, staring at Grayson furiously as he slowly got up from the ground. As soon as he got up, Lyra stared down her nose at him, despite Grayson being taller than her by a good amount, before shaking her head.

“Maybe the millions of dollars aren’t actually worth it.” She said, sighing. Nash snorted, the first I’d heard from him since he tried breaking me and Jameson up.

“That was… something.” Brady said quietly, his brows furrowed as he glanced between Jameson and Grayson.

“That was stupid.” Lyra corrected, glancing back at Grayson. “I didn’t get hurt.” Grayson knew that. But she could have. And, selfish as it is, Grayson couldn’t help but think that there would be nothing left for him in the case that she did die.

“But you easily could have.” He finally said, expelling a breath. Lyra mulled on that, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“This is all very heartfelt, and I’m so glad that this melancholy Romeo found his somewhat less melancholy Juliet, but I do feel the need to ask,” Rohan interjected, placing a finger on his lips as if in thought as he studied Lyra. “Is she still in the game?”

“Yes.” Grayson said immediately, his tone defensive. Rohan made a face at him.

“You, Grayson Hawthorne, are no longer a Gamemaster. You, are a contestant,” He said, his tone amused as he smirked at Grayson. “Therefore you have no say in this matter.” Grayson was about to rebuke whatever he said, mainly because Rohan was only trying to deny Lyra of her spot in the game, but also because he was eyeing Savannah in a way that Grayson didn’t appreciate, before Nash interrupted.

“Well, because of these two numbskulls,” Nash interjected, glaring at Jameson and Grayson, “She didn’t actually get to say her answer.” Nash turned his attention to Lyra, and gradually, so did everybody else. He gestured at her, and Lyra didn’t hesitate as she spoke.

“A tree.” She said, her eyes lit up with a courageous look so fierce it burned Grayson. Grayson had typically stayed away from risks, from the spark of danger his entire life. But for some reason, while all these traits do apply to Lyra, he just physically can’t find a way to stay away from her. From the spark in her eyes. From the determined set of her chin. From all of it. Avery’s gaze slid to Grayson’s, and, as if she could read his thoughts, she smiled.

“Congratulations, Lyra Catalina Kane,” Avery said, stepping forward to be face-to-face with her, “you will remain a contestant in the game.” A look of relief barely touched Lyra’s features, before they turned neutral. She nodded, before turning and straying back to the cliff. Graysons eyes lingered on her, before slowly sliding to back to Avery, who was currently speaking.

“This night will be a grace period, but by 8:00 in the morning, everyone should be meeting just outside the house.” Avery stated, her expression kind. All the contestants began to walk back to the house, with Grayson’s brothers trailing after them and casting those looks at the way Grayson was watching Lyra, and soon enough, it was just the two of them left near the cliff side.

“You definitely had a normal reaction today.” Lyra finally said, breaking the silence that threatened to swallow Grayson whole.

“I couldn’t have handled it better.” He said, matching her sarcasm as he strode up beside her. Lyra turned to him suddenly, the movements graceful, yet intense, in a way.

“What was going through your head?” She asked him suddenly. Grayson swallowed.

“I..” He trailed off, before clearing his throat and making his features as simple as possible. “I was worried about you.” And he was. He was terribly worried, that the one good thing in his life would suddenly vanish.

“And if something were to happen to me..” She trailed off. Grayson knew she expected him to finish her sentence for her, but when he didn’t, she just looked up at him exasperatedly.

“Tell me you wouldn’t freak out as much as you did today if I were to die. Tell me that it wouldn’t weigh down on you as much as I saw it did in your face.” She said, trying to make her voice as simple as possible. Grayson wanted to lie. To tell her, ‘yes, I would be fine in the case that any of that were to happen’. But he couldn’t. His heart squeezed at the thought of lying to her. A strand of her dark hair blew free from her wet ponytail, and Grayson had to physically fight down the desire to brush it behind her ear.

“I can’t.” He finally said, his voice more hoarse than he intended it to be. She pressed her lips together, her thick brows knitting together as she gazed up at him.

“Why not?” She said softy, giving him a half shrug.

“Why not?” Grayson repeated, his voice tinged with amusement and disbelief. He wanted to explain to her exactly why not, but he held himself back from the urge to.

“Because….” He trailed off again, searching for a response. Once he found one, he immediately spoke up again. “Because you deserve to find out exactly what happened to your father. Your dying wouldn’t exactly make the search easier.” Lyra closed her eyes momentarily, and Grayson knew exactly where her brain was going; to calla lily’s, to gunshots and blood, and to omega. To everything they had found out while in that room for 12 hours.

“So it’s just about my father? Nothing else?” She finally said, opening her eyes. Grayson couldn’t say no. He couldn’t will himself to lie to her. So, all he could manage was the slightest nod. Lyra nodded back, before speaking.

“Well, at least you’ll go to sleep tonight knowing you mastered the art of being a jackass.” Lyra stated, making Grayson snort.

“I learned a lot of things tonight.” He said, more softly now.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Lyra rebutted. Grayson paused for a moment. He thought about the bitter and angry person he had become when his mind lingered on the idea of Lyra getting hurt. And then he thought about how those terrible thoughts began to vanish the second she looked his way.

“Quod amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus.” Grayson said softly. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“I really hope that that’s not another one of you Hawthorne’s Latin lingo.” She said, her lips quirked. Graysons lips lifted by a hair himself, as his heart felt lighter than it had a mere 10 minutes ago.

“Sorry to disappoint you, then.” Grayson stated, raising a brow. Lyra’s smile grew, before she turned her head to the cliff side. Grayson wanted to fill the silence before Lyra noticed that he was watching her.

“When was the last time you’ve slept?” The question was so sudden that it made Lyra’s head turn in confusion. She studied him, as if seeing if he was joking, but after a moments hesitation, she only snorted.

“Uh, I don’t know, what day is it today?” She asked jokingly.

“Monday.” Lyra made a face.

“Oh… that’s bad.” She blew out a breath, causing that same strand of hair from before to fly upwards. Grayson turned his attention more to her, coming closer.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?” He asked her, raising a brow. Lyra waved a hand, smacking Grayson’s chest in the process. He liked the closeness of her, and barely held himself back from stepping closer and never moving away again.

“I swallowed a good third of the ocean while almost drowning, so I think I’ll be good for the week.” Lyra joked.

“Lyra.” Graysons tone was serious. She met his gaze again, the humour from her face disappearing.

“We all had dinner last night, remember?” Lyra said, sounding sincere. Grayson’s brow raised deepened.

“Yes, I very much remember. You pushed around your food the entire time.” Grayson stated. He was worried. He didn’t exactly know why she wasn’t eating, but still, he knew whatever compelled her to avoid food, it wasn’t good. Lyra gave him a look.

“Look, I’m not eating because of… that.” She finished lamely. “Not like you should be watching me eat anyway. But, since you asked, sometimes I don’t eat because I get…. stressed. Whenever I’m stressed, I completely lose my appetite.”

“And you’ve been stressed because…?” Grayson trailed off, knowing the answer, but still wanting her to say it herself.

“My father.” She finished, her chest heaving. Grayson nodded, before turning to where he and Jameson had been brawling on the floor, picked up his suit jacket, and dug his hand in the pocket. His hand came out holding a protein bar. Grayson noticed that Lyra had been shivering the slightest bit, almost as if she was covering it up, and he draped his suit jacket across her shoulders just like how he did before. Lyra gave him a look, but didn’t object as she pulled it closer towards her. Now that she was looking at him, Grayson held out the protein bar to her.

“Eat this.” He told her, stepping closer to her again and holding it out for her. Lyra raised a brow at him.

“‘Eat this’? Wow, you’re really good at giving orders, asshole.” She deadpanned.

“Please.” Grayson managed. She held his eyes for a few seconds, before huffing out a breath and grabbing the bar.

“We should go back to the house now.” She said, squinting at the protein bar in her hand.

“Agreed.” Grayson said. They walked in silence, with Grayson watching Lyra, before she finally sighed and spoke.

“You’re going to keep watching me until I cave and eat this bar, aren’t you?” She asks him, giving him a dirty look.

“Yup.” Grayson replied simply, holding her gaze despite the look she was giving him. Lyra sighed again, before ripping open the bar and taking a bite.

“Mm. I just love the taste of sand and granola.” Lyra deadpanned once she swallowed her first bite. Grayson couldn’t help but let a smile loose.

“It adds texture.” He teased. Grayson’s eyes caught on something. Nash’s guitar. He must have forgotten it after the entire… situation Grayson was going through with his brother. He walked over to go pick it up, before walking back to Lyra. Her ponytail was becoming more and more loose, until the elastic completely fell out. Lyra huffed, grabbing her hair in realization that it fell out and gave him a look that said “of course”. Graysons lips lifted by a hair as he walked over to her, saw a little black elastic, slipped it onto his wrist, and kept walking. He’d give it back to her once it wasn’t covered in sand. Or… that’s what he told himself, anyway.

“Ugh, how is there sand in this? It had a wrapper.” Lyra complained, almost done eating the protein bar. Grayson turned to meet her eyes, taking her hand that held the bar and pointing with my other to a label on the bar that said “now has more dark chocolate!”

“I thought you’d like it,” He said, dropping Lyra’s hand and noticing how she immediately dropped her arms to her sides. “it has dark chocolate, after all.” Lyra gave him a look.

“I didn’t tell you I liked dark chocolate.” She said.

“No, but I heard you telling Xander about how you like chocolate, and then I figured you’d like dark the best.” Lyra turned her head, eyeing the doors of the mansion as Grayson held one open for her.

“Well, you figured right.” She finally said, walking in. She was about to walk the other way, towards the contestants rooms, before Grayson spoke up.

“Try and sleep tonight.” He said. Lyra turned and gave him a glare, to which Grayson dipped his head. “Please.”

She looked like she was going to say something sarcastic, but just slumped her shoulders and gazed at him with eyes a gorgeous amber shade instead.

“I can’t.” She finally said, her head bowed. Grayson stepped towards her, gently placing two fingers beneath her chin and tilting it upwards.

“Try.” He said softly. She just looked away, as she chewed on her lip. She looked like she was about to rebuke his one word statement, before Grayson spoke again.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping too,” he admitted, opening up for her so that she could do the same for him. Lyra looked up at him, and her mouth suddenly quirked into a smile that Grayson was beginning to recognize: a crooked smirk that said “I’m going to say something either really funny or really teasing”. Unfortunately for Grayson. she went for the latter.

“Whoever has darker eye bags tomorrow morning has to third wheel with Rohan and Savannah for a whole hour while being forced to listen to their…. colourful conversations.” She said, a cheeky grin on her face. Graysons cheeks immediately heat up as he shook his head at Lyra.

“I have 0 idea what Savannah could possibly see in him.” Grayson stated darkly, his face sour as he thought of the annoying British man who she associates herself with. Lyra just giggled into the palm of his hand, and Grayson, with cheeks that were beginning to tinge red and a very vibrant image of strangling Rohan in his head, did not think that the moment that they just shared was so awful, because the sound of her laugh could never be associated with anything even remotely negative. Grayson couldn’t help but smile himself, and gestured to her room down the hall.

“You might want to get a head start, because I don’t plan on being forced to stay even 10 feet near them.” Grayson deadpanned. Lyra snorted, and winked at him as she walked away.

“Believe me, I don’t need it.” She retorted. Grayson liked her quick tongue. He liked it a lot.

“Oh yeah?” He asked her with a raised brow as she walked away.

“Yeah.” She replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder and continuing to walk to her room, her steps graceful and filled with poise.

Grayson watched her go, momentarily forgetting about the guitar in his hands. Once he remembered, he strode to Nash’s room, knocking twice on the door. Once he heard Nash’s call for Grayson to come in, Grayson opened the door, walking in and placing his guitar propped up on his side table.

“You definitely were acting out today, Gray.” Nash drawled, crossing his arms as he got up from his spot on the bed, and giving him a look.

“That’s one way to put it.” Grayson eventually said, running a hand through his wet-yet-drying-now hair. Nash made a noise at the back of his throat, before sitting back down on the bed, strumming his guitar again.

“So what were you and Lyra up to?” Nash asked. His tone was innocent, but Grayson knew what he was implying. Grayson shrugged.

“Nothing. She lectured me about what happened, and then I walked her back to the house. That’s all.” Grayson said. Nash nodded, turning his gaze to his guitar again. Grayson took this as his cue to leave, and, just as he was about to walk through the door, Nash’s voice made him halt to a stop.

“Right. And where’s your suit jacket, huh, Gray?” Nash drawled. Grayson paused, turning to meet his gaze with a raised brow. Nash’s eyes were twinkling, and he stopped strumming his guitar as he got up, putting it down and strolling over to Grayson. “Lemme guess: she has it?” Grayson paused, as if thinking.

“No,” He lied, “I just must have forgotten it near the cliff side.” Nash gave him a look.

“I’m sure you did. So, if I get up early tomorrow morning and scour the cliff side, including the beach, you’re telling me I’m going to find it just sitting there on the ground?” Nash asked, stepping closer as he crossed his arms.

“Unless it’s blown into the water, then yes.” Grayson again lied. He hated lying to his brothers, but he knew that if he admitted to giving Lyra his jacket, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “It’s just a coincidence.” Grayson held Nash’s gaze, until Nash raised a shoulder and walked back towards his bed.

“Oh, and Grayson?” He drawled, pausing to turn around once more and give him a look. Then, Nash stepped forward, took Graysons arm, and pushed his sleeve down, revealing a small black elastic. “That a coincidence too?” Grayson jerked his hand away, giving Nash’s teasing grin an ice cold and unbothered stare.

“She dropped it. I’m giving it back to her once it’s not covered in sand.” Grayson said with a raised brow, as he tried to be as calm as possible. Nash gave him another shrug, before walking to his bed and lying down on it, his ankles crossed and his hands behind his head.

“I’m sure you are, Gray. But don’t go lying to yourself that this little…” Nash paused, before continuing. “Preoccupation you have with Lyra is nothing.” Grayson paused. He could give a sharp answer and shut it down. But he couldn’t deny the way that the steady beat of his heart began to thump faster the second Nash spoke her name. He turned and walked out without a word, shutting the door and hearing a “you’re welcome” from Nash as he did. His… preoccupation with Lyra was none of his brother’s business.

It wasn’t anybody’s. Nobody’s except for his and Lyra’s, if she saw in him what Grayson sees in her. He didn’t know how any of this was supposed to work out. After all, he was a Hawthorne, and Hawthornes are known to be unforgivably cruel to those who aren’t family. Lyra’s father was a prime example of that. Yet still, he could see a silhouette of a future in which the past didn’t control them.

Where they could make their own choices.

Grayson told himself, when he finally winded down to go to sleep that night, that all he’d see is pitch black darkness before waking up.

But as soon as amber eyes and a voice meant to soothe even the worst of man kind itself began to flash through his mind unconscious mind, he knew that he was only lying to himself.

——————————————————————————

if you sent me an ask MONTHS ago and you’re seeing this fic that i made without anybody requesting me to…. no you didn’t 😊😊

[tsartistry]

When Lester has amnesia, he falls in with Carter and Sadie, and starts learning Egyptian Magic. Set has opinions to share.

[mushyblushyredhead]

TickleTober 2024 🎃

♡ Aug’s TkTober2024

Day 10: Spidering

~ Alien AU ~

Ler!facehugger

Lee!Kane

Word Count: 4.2K

Warning: This is a tickle fic, and a sillier more fluffier spinoff of the Alien universe. If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read. But! If you want to read a more sillier ending of the Nostromo crew where nobody dies and Kane is fine, then by all means, enjoy! :3

Additional warning: some language & spoilers ⚠️

In Space, No One Can Hear You...Laugh?

Groaning, the previously comatose executive officer, Kane, fluttered his eyes open as he finally came to. His entire body felt stiff and heavy, like he had woken up from cryosleep again. His head ached as his eyes struggled to adjust to the bright overhead lights above him.

Once he finally did, he slowly looked around, observing his surroundings. The air smelled sterile; the room was decorated in all white; medical equipment and tools littered the counters, and a monitor sat nearby displaying his vitals. He was in the med bay.

Rubbing his eyes with another groan, Kane struggled to replay the recent events that just took place. His memory was foggy, but little bits of what happened were starting to come back to him. He remembered the Nostromo crew took a detour from their previous course in space to an unknown planet, investigating what seemed to be an SOS. Upon arrival, Kane went off to investigate on his own before encountering what looked to be giant eggs housing possible alien life.

The last thing he remembered was curiously getting close to one before…something jumped out, and made him black out.

Kane shuddered at the memory. Whatever jumped out of that alien egg and tried to latch onto his helmet and face couldn’t have been friendly. It was a miracle he came back in one piece and was still alive.

An unsettling realization suddenly dawned upon him. What if something did happen to him while he was comatose? Surely that alien life form wouldn’t try to latch onto him unless it was planning to do something to him, right?

Oh no. He panicked, sitting up and frantically looked around the room. What if…they brought the creature back on board with them? The whole crew could be in danger!

Or worse…what if the alien infected him with something that could spread to the rest of the crew?!

Kane’s hands frantically shot down to his torso, trying to feel around for any abnormalities that could already be showing. The monitor beeped rapidly as his breathing and heartbeat increased.

He jumped at the sound of the med bay doors sliding open. The rest of the crew rushed in, no doubt suddenly concerned as soon as they saw his vitals change drastically.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” navigator Lambert spoke. “You were out for quite some time.”

“H-How…How long was I out?” Kane groggily asked.

“About sixteen hours, actually,” warrant officer Ripley answered as their science officer, Ash, handed Kane a cup of water to drink. “We were worried you wouldn’t wake up, but we rushed in here as soon as Ash alerted us of your breathing and heart rate increasing erratically. Are you okay?”

“I-I think so?” Kane said in between sips. “I can barely remember what happened but—wait.” He set his cup down nearby, looking around the room again. “Where’s the creature? What happened to it?”

The Nostromo crew exchanged weary glances, as if unsure how to answer that. Then, Captain Dallas spoke up. “When we found you unconscious back on the planet, the creature was still attached to your helmet. It…looked like it was trying to penetrate your suit. We carried you back here to the med bay—despite Ripley’s protests about quarantining over here,” he gestured to said officer, who merely rolled her eyes in response. “Hoping we could get it off you, but the moment we tried, it grew aggressive and scurried off. We’ve been trying to find it ever since.”

Kane’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s still somewhere on board?!”

Dallas sighed. “Yes. But we will find it. In the meantime, you still need to rest.”

“Are you kidding? How am I supposed to rest knowing that alien thing is somewhere loose on this ship?”

“Settle down. We still have a job to do here, so go ahead and rest up. Ash’s orders.” Dallas gestured to the monitor. “But don’t hesitate to beep for us if you need anything.” He got a firm nod in response. “Alright, everyone. Fan out and find this thing, pronto. Remember to keep tabs over the comm channel.” The crew nodded and headed off. Then the doors slid shut.

It was quiet in the med bay again. After just waking up from being comatose by an unknown alien creature, the thought of going back to sleep frightened Kane. It was unsettling. He kept checking all around the berth, afraid the creature was going to jump out of nowhere like it did when he curiously peeked inside the opened egg earlier. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably not the most smartest thing he should have done.

After he checked around the berth for the ninth time, he laid back down with a sigh. “Paranoia,” he muttered tiredly. “Captain was right; I really do need to rest.”

He shifted into a more comfortable position before shutting his eyes. A minute must’ve passed before his ears picked up the faint sound of shuffling nearby. Kane’s eyes shot open. Could that have been..? No, no, it couldn’t.

There it was again: sounds of scuttling, only faster. Kane shot up, eyes with wide panic. There, in the corner of the room, stood the dreaded alien creature. It looked like some kind of mutated spider; long human-like fingers shot out of its sides and front while a long feathery tail flicked around inquisitively.

The alien seemed to pose no threat at first, merely observing the visibly frightened human in front of it. But the second it spider-crawled towards the human, they scooted away with a startled yelp.

The alien halted in its tracks, chittering in confusion at the reaction. With one swift big leap, it landed right on the berth, making the poor already terrified officer shriek in fear. The creature paid no attention to this human’s frightened noises as it simply crawled towards them, ready to engage in the activity it was infamously known for.

Kane whimpered and froze in fear as the alien crawled up his chest towards his face. This is it. He shut his eyes, preparing for the worst when he suddenly relaxed as a wave of relief hit him. His fear instantly vanished as soon as the alien wrapped its finger-like talons around the side of his face and its long tail around his neck like a scarf.

Was this thing seriously trying to tranquilize him? Render him helpless so it could do something far more sinister?

Kane tried to fight against the feeling, but the more he struggled, the quicker the effect took over. He eventually succumbed to the feeling, laying back down, completely vulnerable and at this creature’s mercy.

The alien immediately detached itself and began crawling around the human’s torso, tittering curiously. Kane merely twitched at the weird feeling of this thing’s crawly legs all over him. But his frown suddenly turned wobbly as the alien’s skittering legs brushed over rather sensitive spots on his torso.

Kane struggled to muffle the bubbling laughter. No, he refused to give in. Tickling, seriously?! He thought fiercely. This is stupid! What kind of—oh NO!

The dam finally broke as the alien found a particularly bad spot on this human’s left side of ribs. It began spidering rapidly against the spot, adding the rest of its claws into the mix.

“N-No! Nohohoho!! S-StOHOhohohop!!” Kane giggled madly. “Thihihis ihihihisn’t funny!!” He began squirming on the berth, legs kicking as the surprise tickles didn’t stop.

The last thing he would have expected this terrifyingly looking creature to do was this. As grateful and relieved as the executive officer was for not being a victim of this alien’s unspeakable horrors, he wondered why of all things would this alien resort to tickling? What kind of alien race were these things?

He didn’t have time to ponder about it because the alien switched tactics; now it wrapped all eight of its long fingers against the human’s chest and rapidly dug into his ribcage.

The poor officer arched his back with an uncharacteristic squeal as his front and back ribs were now being assaulted with rapid tickles. ‘StAHAHAHAhap!! T-Thahahat’s WOHOHOHOHORSE!!” His squirming and kicking increased as he tried to dislodge the alien off his chest. He tried rolling onto his front, squirming side to side, even trying to pry the spider-like creature off with his own hands, but it was no use. This alien had an insane death grip!

Even with some of his strength already being sapped from the tickles, the creature would not budge even as he pulled with all his might. He couldn’t even loosen one of its long fingers. Kane kept trying; tugging and tugging at its claws with all his might.

But that proved to be a big mistake as the alien suddenly emitted a low hiss. It quickly shot its two front claws under the human’s arms, digging in ruthlessly.

Kane let out an even louder shriek, collapsing back onto the berth as loud laughter poured out of him. “NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!! OKAAAAHAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAHAY!! I WOHOHON’T TRY TO PR—HAHAHA—PRY YOU AHAHAHAHA—OFF!!” Clearly, this alien did not want to be pried off while it was tickling this human astronaut to pieces!

Instinctively, Kane slammed his arms down to his sides, but that did nothing except trap the still wiggling claws underneath.

“PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! PLEASE!! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!!” As a last resort, he frantically batted at the alien’s…head? In hopes that it would have mercy on him.

Fortunately, the alien seeemed to understand as it slowed its fingers down to a stop. It tittered and chirped and it watched the human lay limply, panting and breathing heavily. As soon as his breathing returned to normal, he slowly lifted his head up.

The alien softly tittered, flicking its tail all innocently. Kane shot a glare at it. “What the hell?! What the hell was that? First, you give me such a fright and render me unconscious, and then you…attack me in a childish manner like if I am a child!”

Huffing, Kane sat up and brushed the alien off of him. “I wake up from a coma just to scold an alien like a dingbat,” he muttered. “This is what I get for smoking too many sticks.” He slid off from the berth and made a move for the doors when the alien immediately jumped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Move,” Kane barked. The alien immediately hissed like an angry snake in response. Startled by the reaction, Kane backed away until his back hit the wall. As soon as the alien rapidly crawled towards him, Kane yelped and made a run for it. But he couldn’t get more than a few steps before the alien would reappear in front of him again.

With nowhere else to go and unable to get close to the mad bay doors, Kane hopped on top of the berth again. Okay, maybe not the wisest decision, but what else was there to do? Now he was starting to regret agitating the creature.

But strangely enough, Kane noticed how he didn’t feel fear in the moment. He did feel something as the alien was chasing him, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else. He couldn’t quite understand, but it felt like…giddy anticipation. Now? Seriously? Well, the alien didn’t seem like it was going to actually hurt him, would it?

That one split second of being distracted by his own thoughts caused Kane to be unaware of the creeping alien right behind him, ready to pounce.

It leapt with arms wide and landed right on the human’s back, making him let out a shriek that could be mistaken for a female’s. It wasted no time wrapping its fingers around Kane’s torso; three on each side of his ribcage, and two on either side of his neck. It immediately dug and wriggled its claws with no mercy, making poor Kane burst into screechy laughter once more.

“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!! NOHOHO!! NAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!! NOHOHOT AGAAAAAHAHAHAIN!!”

Kane thrashed like a fish out of water against the berth. The claws grazing his neck made him scrunch both shoulders and giggle like a maniac. The claws spidering ruthlessly against his ribs made him squeal helplessly like a little kid. And when one of those claws happened to claw against his back ribs, he arched his back with another high-pitched squeal that the alien found utterly adorable.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the alien kept switching from spidering its second set of claws from Kane’s highest ribs to his underarms, back and forth, so he could never get used to the feeling.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAP!! CUHUHUT IHIHIHIT AHAHAHA—OUT ALREADYHEEHEEHEE!!”

It didn’t help that Kane only had his underclothes on. The thin white tank top he had on did absolutely nothing to protect him from this alien’s merciless tickles. In fact, all it seemed to do was make him even more vulnerable; a huge advantage for the alien.

Lucky him.

The alien paused its torturous assault one last time before it would go for the final kill. Kane exhaustedly flopped against his back, the creature still attached, as he tried to get the air back into his lungs. He was surprised the weight of his body didn’t deter the alien at all, or even crush it.

After several long minutes, his breathing returned to normal, but his cheeks were still dusted with a light pink hue. Kane slowly sat up, huffing in annoyance at the feeling of the alien’s limbs securely hugging his torso again. It chittered excitedly, like a puppy wanting to play.

“Alright, get off of me,” Kane firmly ordered as he tried to looses its fingers. “You’ve had your—weird and torturous fun, but I need you to release me now so I can alert Dallas that I’ve found our…guest.”

The alien stubbornly clung on tighter, refusing to budge. “C’mon…let…go!” Kane grunted through gritted teeth. It let out an angry hiss again. Kane sighed. “Dammit, you’re even worse than Jonesy!”

With one last attempt to pull it off, the alien decided enough was enough, and proceeded to tickle the human again. Kane shrieked as the claws started to spider and stroke up and down his ribs again.

“N-Nononono stop! StOHOhop! I dihihidn’t mean ihihihit!”

But the alien wasn’t convinced. It pulled its eight claws away, luring Kane into a false sense of security that made him sigh in relief before plunging back in, tickling mercilessly.

Kane screeched, flopping back onto his back as those evil claws wiggled against his neck, underarms, ribs, and even reach in front to spider against his stomach. No matter which way he squirmed or how much he flailed and kicked, he could not do a thing to protect his ticklish spots.

“STAAAAAAHAHAHAP PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! I SWEA—HAHAHAAAA—SWEAR I DIHIHIHIDN’T MEAHEEHEEHEAN IHIHIHIT!!”

Then, just to be extra mean, the alien extended its long feathery tail and slipped it under Kane’s shirt, rapidly brushing the sensitive skin underneath.

Kane let out an ear-piercing screech that he would deny for the rest of his life as he felt something soft and feathery brush back and forth against his bare belly. It tickled horribly!

“AAAAAAAEEEHEHEHAHAHAAAAA!! WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHEHELL IHIHIS THAHAHAT?!!” Kane dared to peek one tear blurred eye open, but immediately shut it as the alien’s evil tail slowly traced up and down one side before swishing circles across his belly, and then tracing the other side.

Could this get any worse?!

A sharp tase to the sides, another squeal. Rapid digging under the arms, more shrieky cackles and protests. More quick pinches to the ribs, another funny sounding squeal. Sneaky feathery brushes over the navel, another screech followed by a snort.

This was maddening; this was torture! This was…surprisingly fun?! Wait, what?

Despite all the protests, and flailing, and laughing, there was something oddly enjoyable about this that made it feel fun. Perhaps it was the playfulness of all this. This alien spider thing clearly did not intend to hurt him from the beginning. Was that its whole purpose form the start? To lure somebody close enough just to engage in this silly play?

As secretly fun as Kane was having, he was also reaching his limit. He could feel his entire face was on fire from how much he was blushing. His limbs had given up trying to protect himself. And his sides and stomach were already aching from how much he was laughing. Even his chest hurt; it felt like it was going to burst any moment.

“PLEEEEEEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!!! JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAHAP ALREADY!!! I-I REAHEEHEEHEALLY CAHAHAHAN’T TAAAAA—TAHAHAHAKE ANYMOHOHOHOHORE!!!”

Hearing the desperate plea, the alien finally showed mercy and ceased its tickly torture. Kane laid like a limp starfish on the berth. He was too tired to even lift a finger. His chest heaved as he struggled to get the air back into his lungs.

The alien noticed how visibly exhausted this human looked after its little attack. So it decided to help the way its’ kind helped all their victims after they laughed themselves silly.

Chittering softly, it crawled towards Kane’s face again, making him yelp. “W-Wait, wait! Not again, please!” He didn’t want to be the victim of another tickle attack. Well…maybe not right this second.

Instead, the alien wrapped its legs around Kane’s face in a loose hug, while its tail wrapped around his neck again.

Okaaay, this was awkward. He wanted to ask what this creature was doing, but his words were muffled by its furry underside. His question was immediately answered as he felt the air return back to his lungs; he was no longer panting or out of breath. His sides and stomach were no longer sore, and he even felt his body temperature return to normal.

When that was done, the alien released its hold and perched right on top of his chest. It chittered and nudged him as of to ask, “are you okay now?”

Kane slowly nodded. “Um…yes. Terrific.”

The creature let out a satisfied chirp before making itself comfy on Kane’s chest, tucking its legs in just like a cat would when loafing. It wrapped its tail around itself, softly purring in content.

Kane rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Are you shitting me? You’re the one tired after I laughed myself to tears and near death?” The alien just chirped in response.

Kane sighed and let himself relax against the berth once more. The med bay doors suddenly slid open, getting his attention. The Nostromo crew walked in, wither with wide eyes or relieved smiles. And were they…stifling laughs? Well, everyone except Ash.

Kane frowned as he sat up, making the alien slide down into his lap. “Where the hell have you guys been this whole time?”

“Trying to find the damn alien, duh,” Parker, one of their engineers, replied while biting back a smile. “But uh, heh, it seems like you already found it.”

“Hang on a minute.” Kane scanned the crew with a suspicious glare. “Were you all aware of what I was painfully enduring…this whole time?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘painful,’” Lambert timidly pointed out, a knowing smile visible on her lips.

“So you guys did know!”

“Now, now, hold on, let us explain,” said Ripley, biting back a smile of her own. “We were trying to find the creature. We searched everywhere, but we couldn’t find it. That’s when we heard you screaming, and we rushed back, afraid that you were in danger. But when we saw what was going on…”

“We saw you weren’t actually in any real danger,” Lambert concluded.

Kane was in disbelief. “So you guys just stood there and watched?! And didn’t think to fucking help me?!”

The Nostromo crew couldn’t hold back their chuckles. “Oh c’mon, you whiner,” Parker teased. “It’s not like you needed our help anyway.”

“And besides,” Dallas couldn’t help but point out. “It’s not like you did much to try and make it stop, either.”

Kane could feel his cheeks grow warm as he knew exactly what he meant by that, but pretended not to know. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kane,” Ripley smirked. “You didn’t really put up much of a fight against that alien. But if it makes you feel any better,” she gave a comforting squeeze to her embarrassed crew mate’s shoulder. “I think you have a really nice laugh. I don’t think we’ve ever heard you laugh before, Kane, but it was really sweet to hear.”

Everyone murmured in agreement, which just made Kane blush even more. He covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Ughhhh…you guys are all assholes. The absolute fucking worst.”

The crew laughed again. “And we love you too, Kane,” Dallas patted his shoulder. Then his face grew serious as he eyed the still sleeping alien in Kane’s lap. “Now, about our guest…what do you all suppose we should do about it?”

“Well, we’ve already seen that it poses no threat to any of us, as Kane demonstrated earlier,” Parker pointed out, making said executive officer bristle at his comment. “But I still think we should contain it until we can know more about it.”

Kane seemed hesitant about that decision. “Is that really necessary, Parker? Like you said, this creature posed no threat to me as soon as I woke, and still isn’t threatening any of us right now.” He gestured to said creature curled up in his lap, faintly purring. “As silly as it sounds, I think this creature is harmless, and we have nothing to worry about. Its only purpose seems to be luring people close just to give them a thorough tickling. Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’d rather have that than some kind of dangerous alien eating my face off, or implanting eggs in my chest or something. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“But wait,” Lambert broke the silence. “What about the SOS we received earlier when we found this creature? Couldn’t that still be a red flag that this thing is dangerous?”

“Actually, I looked into that a while ago,” Ripley answered. “Despite Ash’s protests for me not to, I got MU-TH-UR to decipher the transmission. Yes, it was a warning, but not the kind you would think or should panic about. The transmission explained how these creatures originated from a distant planet, and were supposedly engineered to be deadly organisms that would bring the extinction of other planets. However, something didn’t go right like they wanted, and the SOS was warning any travelers to be on the lookout for these aliens because they escaped from the crashed spaceship we encountered earlier.”

“Sooo there’s no real danger?” Brett, their other engineer, piped up.

“None,” said Ripley. “While I do agree with Parker and we should find out more about this creature, we really don’t have to worry about our safety with this thing on board. It’s actually harmless, from what I read on the transmission.”

“All right then, I guess that settles it.” Dallas turned back to look at Kane. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a roommate when we go back into stasis.”

Kane stuttered. “I—what?! Dallas, you can’t be serious..!”

Dallas gave him an apologetic smile that Kane could see right through that it wasn’t sympathetic. “Actually, I am. We’re going to need to go back into stasis again soon, and I think we’d all feel more at ease if this creature wasn’t running around loose on our ship while we’re asleep.”

“I-I get that, but—”

“And you heard Ripley, this thing’s not dangerous. And, it already seems to have grown attached to you in such a short time.” The captain suddenly smirked. “What, are you afraid that it might go after you again while you sleep?”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want this thing in my cryopod!”

The crew laughed again, but Kane wasn’t so amused. A devious idea suddenly crossed his mind. Time for a little revenge. “Oh, sure, you guys can laugh about it. But wait until you’re all suddenly on the receiving end, and we’ll see who’ll be laughing now!”

Kane gently nudged the alien awake, then gestured to the rest of his crew mates. “Hey, look, little chap…more targets!”

The alien chirped and squeaked with delight, seeing a whole buffet’s worth of new victims. It positioned itself to pounce, tail whipping around playfully as it was ready to claim its next ticklish victim.

As soon as the Nostromo crew noticed the crouching alien, they immediately stopped laughing. Everyone except Ash and Kane started backing away awkwardly. It wasn’t until the alien leapt forward that the crew shrieked in unison, and dashed out of the med bay.

Now it was Kane’s turn to laugh. “Let’s see how you astro-jerks like it!”

The alien suddenly ran back inside, making a crawl towards Kane again. He stuttered and held his hands out in defense. “H-Hey, hey, wait. Why are you going after me again? Go after the others! No…no! N-No! NonononoNO! Not again! No!” Kane dashed out of the med bay, the alien skittering after him once more while chirping mischievously.

Now alone in the med bay, Ash scowled as he heard the rest of the Nostromo crew running back and forth between floors, their distant laughter echoing. He gets sent to go undercover to retrieve a supposed deadly alien to be the perfect weapon, only to find this? An alien tickle monster?

“Tch, the fucking Weyland Yutani corporation needs to get their facts right next time. ‘Perfect organism’ my ass.”

THE END :3

[werewolfsmile]

The Eliot Spencer Details Masterpost

I have been recording details about our beloved Eliot Spencer on my latest watch through. And now, it's finally time to reveal the details!! If I have gotten any details INCORRECT, I beg of you to correct me, at which time, this post will be updated and credit given. (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers - aka the correct order - and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.) !! This post contains details from Leverage: Redemption! Read the episode references carefully if you are wanting to avoid certain spoilers !!

Shirtless Moments

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: The flashback scene when Aimee asks Eliot what his excuse was for not coming back to her, we see him being dragged/tortured, shirtless. "Tell us what you did with the monkey!"

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Eliot is shirtless for the fight match.

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Ehh he's not completely shirtless here but whatever. At about 16 mins in, Eliot and Parker are getting changed together, Eliot strips to a singlet then throws his shirt at me the camera. (I didn't include other scenes of Eliot in a singlet here because in this scene he's actively undressing, whereas in others he's not.)

Necklaces

The earliest sighting of his guitar pick necklace is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job. It continues to pop up frequently in episodes, though noticeably less in S1. I thought about recording every occurrence of it here but ... lmao it's in legit waaayyyy too many episodes for me to bother.

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Honourable mention of the necklaces Eliot wears with his fashion week outfit. The longer one is kinda dogtag-esque, the shorter one is ... I think it's a fleur de lis? He also wears a range of chain necklaces later in this episode.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Bird pendant (possibly kingfisher) visible at 34 mins 39 seconds. Full credits to @wolves-in-the-world for this one including the time stamp! You can check out their reblog of this post with more details here!

Dammit Hardison

S1 E13 The Second David Job: The FIRST INSTANCE of dammit Hardison in the entire show! Said upon discovering each other in the gallery, around 4 mins 15 seconds.

S2 E1 The Beantown Bailout Job: Said around 22 mins 30 seconds, immediately following, "What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?" Iconic.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: When setting up for the magic show and discovering the rabbit missing, roughly 19 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Running from security, around 31 mins 30 seconds.

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Trying to enter McRory's at the same time, around 1 min 30 seconds.

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: This is an honourable mention because this time NATE is the one to say dammit Hardison! 9 mins 15 seconds.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Upon discovering the master tape isn't in the case, roughly 32 mins.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot and Hardison running in the woods for their lives, arguing as always. This one is a bonus 'dammit' because Hardison says it straight back to Eliot after Eliot yells it at him! Around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: Discussing Hardison's forgery work, followed by Eliot regretting touching anything. Around 23 mins 55 seconds.

S3 E13 The Morning After Job: Pretending to be cops and accidentally ending up with a prisoner to take back to jail, around 16 mins 20 seconds.

S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job: Honourable mention of Chaos mocking Eliot by saying dammit Hardison. Roughly 21 mins 15 seconds.

(phew, S3 was rough on Hardison! given what Eliot was going through with the whole Moreau thing.... ooh that's delicious angst)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention for Sophie saying it this time! While playing the role that was meant for Eliot, around 24 mins.

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Mixing chemicals for a distraction, roughly 25 mins 30 seconds.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Hardison running away from being thrown off a high floor, around 5 mins.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Sneaking around at the Bellington Dam, roughly 13 mins 35 seconds.

S5 E1 The (Very) Big Bird Job: 'Accidentally' putting a brew pub menu in front of Eliot, around 10 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E15 The Long Goodbye Job: Emotional scene that we do not speak about, around 12 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: After knocking Harry out and asking Hardison to help carry Harry, and Hardison refuses. 11 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Upon discovering that security is headed to the vault where Parker is, and the only way down there is through the vents. Around 34 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: We get 3! In this whole episode! Probably to make up for Hardison being gone for most of Redemption. Anyway! First one when Eliot and Hardison are in Ralphie Roy's place and Hardison has no idea who Ralphie is, around 23 mins 15 seconds. Second is when they're breaking into the elevator and Hardison won't help fight or move the unconscious guards, roughly 37 mins 40 seconds. And third, after the job when Parker says that Hardison was the one who took out all the guards. Around 45 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E3 The Tournament Job: Right at the start after Eliot says gaming isn't a sport and Parker texts Hardison, so Hardison starts blowing up Eliot's phone. Lmao. Around 4 mins 20 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: After realising Breanna stole his truck, Eliot says dammit, then aims it at a grinning Hardison, since Breanna is already running away. Around 46 mins 50 seconds.

Dammit Parker

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Parker jumps out of a second floor window, Eliot catches her. 15 mins. (Parker gets a dammit from Eliot before Hardison does!!)

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Parker driving erratically, Eliot thrown around in back seat. (Technically there's a pause between dammit and Parker but I'm still including it) 35 min 35 seconds.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Searching the mark's house, Parker wants to steal a shirt. Again, this isn't technically a proper dammit Parker, as Eliot instead says, "Put it back! Dammit." But I'm still including it because it was aimed at her. 21 mins 20 seconds.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Parker is pretending to be a hacker heavily modelled off Hardison. Not a proper dammit Parker as, again, Eliot only mutters "dammit" under his breath, but still counts to me. Just after 18 mins.

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: At end of episode, after Parker admits that she didn't even learn Eliot's name till after the team broke up the first time. 44 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: After washing up on shore and entering the Beacon Inn, Parker and Eliot are bickering about Maria. He doesn't strictly say dammit Parker but there's absolutely no doubt who he's directing the dammits towards. 3 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: When farewelling Billy and Parker says next time she'll finish telling him about the robot bodies. Again, it's just dammit not dammit Parker but it's close enough. 41 mins.

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Another standalone dammit that is most definitely aimed at Parker! When breaking Romero out, Parker says she's a firefighter (with far too much glee), around 14 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: A full dammit Parker this time! When Parker reveals that it's super easy to steal from a university and produces a whole bunch of stuff, roughly 22 mins 40 seconds.

Very Distinctive Moments

S1 E2 The Homecoming Job: Eliot ID's the weapon from the gunshots, around 8 mins. Later, he ID's a guy off his knife fighting style, around 18 mins 50 seconds.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: ID's a CIA guy from his stance, roughly 7 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: ID's the smell of peppermint on Hardison's breath, around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: ID's former British paratroopers by their haircuts, 30 mins 10 seconds.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: ID's a former spetsnaz guy by his footprint, 13 mins 45 seconds.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing ex-military personnel by their stances, he just doesn't say very distinctive. 18 mins 50 seconds.

S4 E11 The Experimental Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing a helicopter by the whumpa-whumpa (there's 7 of them did you know). Around 7 mins.

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: ID's military satellite transmission by the static, 7 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: ID's a Navy Seal who enlisted between '90-'95 by his watch, around 16 mins.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: ID's a drone (Breanna's) from the sound. 11 mins 50 seconds.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: ID's Russian mob by the tattoos, 36 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword Job: Honourable mention for Maria ID'ing the way Eliot disarmed her gun, 7 mins 50 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: Eliot ID's a guy as not having a distinctive anything - which is what is so distinctive. 20 mins 40 seconds.

RS2 E13 The Crowning Achievement Job: ID's MI6 off their search pattern, 6 mins 50 seconds.

Known Family

S1 E6 The Miracle Job: When discussing Bibletopia, Eliot says his nephew would like it. This is the ONLY mention of a nephew in the entire show, Redemption included; nor is there any direct mention of a sibling beyond this (which leads me to believe that this nephew is actually the son of a close friend/cousin/military buddy, rather than a direct family relation, but that's just my headcanon).

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: When talking to the abused boy, Randy, Eliot says he has an uncle named Randy.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot's dad owned a hardware store and he wanted Eliot to take over one day. But Eliot wanted to get out of that small town, so he joined the service. Fought with his dad the night before he left and hasn't been back since. He goes back at the end of this episode and knocks - but his dad never answers the door 😭

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: While interrogating/torturing Eliot with Red Haze, Bligh says that Eliot's dad's friend from Vietnam has invited Eliot to join them for Christmas. At the end of the episode, Eliot goes to join them for dinner, only to get a message from 'J' that his dad was a no show. This 'J' is widely accepted as Eliot's unknown sibling but that is incorrect! 'J' is Eliot's dad's buddy from Vietnam!

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: The ultimate Eliot family backstory episode!! (if you haven't seen it yet and don't want spoilers, skip this one!) Eliot was adopted by a black couple, Billy and an unnamed woman, after being abandoned/surrendered at a hospital as a baby. His father was a war hero who got none of the glory and sustained a wound, ruining his civilian career path, so Billy never wanted Eliot to follow in his footsteps. Eliot loved the stories of his dad in the military so joined up to be like him. His mother died while Eliot was on an op and he couldn't get leave to come back for the funeral, deepening the rift between him and Billy. Ultimately, they reconcile, (Eliot says his dad was always a hero to him, Billy say's he's proud of Eliot, they hug), and I cry every time 😭❤️ [Edit: Eliot being a baby at the time of being found at the hospital and consequently brought home by his adopted mother is unconfirmed and my presumption. We have no clear info on his age at adoption. Thanks to @nival-kenival for picking that up!]

Phrases: Ain't

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Said to Nate, right before Nate tells him to go skip some rope.

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Says it twice while conning Irina.

S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job: Upon being told to go help Parker instead of watching a sports game, Eliot takes his beer back.

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Discussing the fights the mark runs, says they ain't the UFC.

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: Said right before threatening to throw Randy's abusive father over the railing of a stairwell.

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Upon spotting a hitman sent to kill McSweeten and Taggart.

S2 E8 The Ice Man Job: After hearing Hardison call himself the Ice Man, says he won't bail him out when things go wrong.

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: While trying to get Parker to the court room and end up cut off by the police.

S2 E11 The Bottle Job: When Hardison wants help to clean up Nate's apartment and Eliot refuses.

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: When Nate says to meet outside the ballpark but Eliot refuses because now he's sucked into the sport.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Twice while arguing with Hardison about how to rescue Parker, once when Parker offers him a lift down the stairwell with her on her harness rig and he refuses. This is the most he says ain't in a single episode!

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Once when the militia try to make him kneel, later when the militia kid catches him and Hardison near the train tracks.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: When Sophie changes her story to mock Eliot's accent and mannerisms.

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: When confronting Moreau with Hardison.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: Upon arriving at the base camp and complaining to Nate.

S4 E7 The Grave Danger Job: When looking for a buried Hardison and hearing the sprinklers.

S4 E10 The Queen's Gambit Job: At the end, swearing revenge on Sterling.

S4 E12 The Office Job: Arguing with Hardison about Eliot's sandwich while searching the warehouse.

S4 E13 The Girls' Night Out Job: When trying to convince Nate to socialise at the very start.

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Exactly the same as the previous episode, so this one barely counts.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: In the patent office, when trying to figure out who lured Nate into this situation. The same scene is used later as a flashback.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Warning Nate of the consequences of taking a life with your own hands.

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: When ambushed by Marko when leaving the ice rink.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Once when going to wring information on the hit out of Riley, once when Hardison steps on the trigger plate of the claymore.

S5 E13 The Corkscrew Job: First time talking to Betty about how Leonard's a jerk.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Twice when ambushed by RIZ thugs in the warehouse.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Once when discussing Ryan Corbett at the start, once when refusing to let Hardison have a turn with the diamond-tipped drill.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: When warning Breanna to be certain of her calculations for how to get him and Parker out of the casino's vault.

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Once when discussing hiring people to overthrow a government, once when discussing how they're going to do like 6 things at once, including saving Harry.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Said twice while talking with Blanche, after Blanche helped rescue Eliot from RIZ.

RS1 E14 The Great Train Job: While digging through the tainted soil with Harry.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: When trying to get to Volkov's plane with Parker and seeing that two guards are in the way.

RS2 E5 The Walk In The Woods Job: Talking to Paul after rescuing Harry, who was pretending to be Eliot.

Fun fact: for every ain't that Eliot says, Hardison says at least two more. And that's too many for me to bother recording!

Phrases: Y'all

Never. Not even once.

Hardison, on the other hand, says y'all all the damn time - every season, multiple times, sometimes even multiple times in the same episode.

Honourable mention for Chaos saying y'all as an incorrect mockery of Eliot's accent in S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.

... Okay, okay! So Eliot says it a few times in Redemption! But only in ONE episode!

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Said 4 times when playing a character and convincing people to clear out of the auction house.

That's it.

Aliases

These are all the names that Eliot's gone by or used on cons that I could find, not just full blown aliases.

S1 E1 The Nigerian Job: Detective Lieutenant Carden (the scene with this alias was cut from a lot of versions of this episode)

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Vince Fetkey, Hans Von Schwesterkrank

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: Brad Mackie

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Dale

S1 E12 The First David Job: Professor Sinclair

S1 E13 The Second David Job: Professor/Dr Adam Sinclair

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Kid Jones (on the fight match poster)

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Coach Brewer

S2 E5 The Three Days Of The Hunter Job: Earl

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: Officer Hilts

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Julian

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: Roy Chappell

S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job: Dr Abernathy

S3 E2 The Reunion Job: Lloyd Hickey

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Guy Hamilton

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: Phil

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Kenneth Crane

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Agent Quint

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Skeeter

S3 E9 The Three-Card Monte Job: Detective Moffat

S3 E10 The Underground Job: Eric

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Dr Wes Abernathy

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Ray Laroque

S4 E2 The Ten Li'l Grifters Job: Charlie Siringo

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Lieutenant (only granting him this one because CK played him in the flashback)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Tom Boonen

S4 E12 The Office Job: Mr Dennis

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Luigi

S4 E15 The Lonely Hearts Job: Jackson Cooper

S4 E16 The Gold Job: Tobias Bowden

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Cowboy (*cough* John McClane *cough*)

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: Jacques "Jack" Labert

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: Willie Riker

S5 E5 The Gimme A K Street Job: Steven Turner

S5 E6 The DB Cooper Job: DB Cooper/Young Steve Reynolds (again, technically not an alias but whatever it's here anyway)

S5 E7 The Real Fake Car Job: Barry McElroy

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Archer

S5 E14 The Toy Job: Carl

Honourable mentions of Eliot being called: "Rambo" by Hardison in S1 E2 The Homecoming Job [thanks @independent-fics for this!]; "Emeril" by Parker in S1 E3 The Wedding Job [thanks @aardvaark for this one!]; "Sparky" by Parker in S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job and by Tara in S2 E15 The Maltese Falcon Job; and "Skippy" by Hardison in S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Will Gallagher

RS1 E6 The Card Game Job: Glenn the Savage

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword: Emmett Milbarge

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Frank Farmer

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: Hank

RS1 E12 The Golf Job: Reed Wilkins

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: Calvin

RS1 E15 The Muddy Waters Job: Armus Vagra

RS2 E7 The Big Rig Job: Kris

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Nick O'Brien

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: New Blood, Caterpillar

Honourable mention of Eliot being called "Skipper" by Hardison in RS1 E16 The Harry Wilson Job.

Known Associates

This is in direct reference to hitters/people from the criminal world that Eliot knew or was aware of prior to the Leverage Team. Quinn is not included in this list due to that distinction (sorry Quinn).

S1 E3 The Wedding Job: The Butcher of Kiev

S2 E7 The Two Live Crew Job: Mikel Dayan

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Gutman

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: Chapman, Damien Moreau

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Damien Moreau

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Frank, Randall

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Roper

S5 E4 The French Connection: Rampone

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Riley

Trivia

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: Eliot claims he only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and that he cured his claustrophobia as a kid by locking himself in the woodshed behind his house for a couple nights.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Eliot is nervous to perform in front of an audience, to the point that Parker startles him and she's surprised that she did. Interesting to note that he seems to have no issue playing sport in front of crowds.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot says he hates beets.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Eliot chews gum. He does this throughout a LOT of episodes across the seasons but I've only noted down this one episode for it.... thanks, past me 🙄 [Edit: thanks @nival-kenival for more info! Another confirmed episode is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job, and S3 E13 The Morning After Job!]

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Eliot says he fought a guy with a Nerf sword in Damascus, 2002.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot drives an F-150 to his dad's house in Oklahoma. This is a THIRD vehicle that apparently belongs to Eliot, in addition to the Chevrolet Silverado and Dodge Challenger we see in other episodes. The F-150 is not seen again.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Eliot has 'special sedatives' aka a little psychotropic he picked up outside of Bogota.

Eliot mostly walks at the back of the group, presumably to be the rear guard and make sure no one falls behind. See ... just about every damn episode for evidence.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: Parker says that Eliot has cut his way out of an ice cave, escaped a gorilla enclosure, and catered a wedding for the mob.

Eliot is seen wearing glasses throughout various episodes. A flashback in S1 E1 The Nigerian Job shows him wearing presumably his own glasses. All other instances of him wearing glasses (that I can think of) are when he takes someone's glasses for a con. It is unconfirmed if Eliot actually needs glasses to correct his eyesight or not, but is a fandom headcanon. In S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job there is an interaction where Nate ribs Eliot for taking so long in a fight, and Eliot says it's because of new glasses. An argument could be made that this means Eliot does require glasses. [Thanks @independent-fics for picking this up - for pretty much all the details pertaining to Eliot's glasses!]

And there you have it! All the details that I've spent the last 3 months collecting!! Now it's time for me to take a good, long break because my brain is fried! 😂

Once again, let me know if you find any errors so I can update the post. Data from Redemption S2 is where I've most likely missed things, since I don't have it on DVD and it's sooo much harder to scrub through streaming footage to find things. When will they release RS2 on DVD I need itttt.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this post can be a helpful reference for you!

[arias-archive]

can u write a one bed scene between Grayson and Lyra which takes place right after the scene where they kiss in tgg

a/n: Hiiii! Yes ofc! I’m so SO SO sorry it took so long but I wanted to make sure I got this as perfect as I could for all the anticipation it built :) (there was also another anon who asked for a graysonlyra fic so I hope this is okay!). I really hope I didn’t let anyone down and once again, thank u for waiting and supporting <3

this is set right after the graysonlyra kiss in tgg!

warnings: swearing, panic attck, kissing, slight tgg spoilers?

description: 12 hours until the next game and what a coincidence the asshole got locked out of his room

tig masterlist | masterlist

catch me if you can (a graysonlyra fic)

Lyra thought about the danger of touch. She thought about all the reasons she had not to do this. But as Grayson lowered his lips, Lyra rose up on her toes, tilted her head backward, moving like a dancer, needing this—and him.

Her long-held memory of that kiss gave way to this kiss. And this kiss was everything.

His tongue coaxed her lips to part, slipping inside, sinfully exploring every inch, ravishing her in a way she never had been before.

He wasn’t a gentle kisser, but he wasn’t rough either. This kiss was greedy and passionate and everything she needed. Her lips tingled with the memory of their first kiss, but that was practically a peck compared to this.

She knew this was foolish, kissing Grayson Davenport Hawthorne when she had every reason to hate him. She wanted to forget about that for a moment, letting the kiss deepen while her thoughts ebbed away- with nothing but him plaguing her mind.

As she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, she really didn’t want to stop. She felt like she was burning from the inside out and all she wanted was to burn with him.

They stood there, desperately fused together with the burning orange sunrise illuminating them. He held onto her waist, her chest pressed up against his in a way that made her want to get impossibly closer. He pulled away for a breath and her mouth instinctively followed him, pressing against his lips again.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, fused to each other but it was her who pulled away first, face flushed and breathless. But It was the sound of a couple of breaking branches that jolted her out of her fantasy.

She was still standing in the frame of his arms when they pulled apart, his fingers digging into the smallest part of her waist as if she could vanish at any moment. She whipped her head around, brown locks whipping her face as she searched for what could’ve possibly disturbed them. She saw nothing though.

Nothing except the charred ruins of the great mansion that one stood here, a skeletal frame bordering them. Nothing except the burnt remains of the papers containing her father's names scattering the ground.

She was surrounded by papers bearing her father’s name, someone had given her a ticket and it wasn’t the Hawthorne’s and Odette-

The realisation of what she’d been trying to actively avoid slammed into her like a truck.

And then the kiss just felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

Her lips burned with the intensity of it all, desperate to fall back into him but she couldn’t. She felt sick. She jumped back. Still high on the adrenaline from that kiss, she turned and ran.

Okay, maybe worse than just ran. She practically sprinted from the ruins, running towards the House, leaving the silver-eyed boy alone in the trees.

She heard him shout her name, she heard him sprint after her but she still ran. She was still reeling from everything that had taken place from last night to now. She was in shock that she ran away from the kiss without saying anything to him. What the hell was wrong with her?

She ran until everything hurt, and she was gasping for air. And then she ran some more. Her feet pounded against the dirt in time with her racing heart. But running was all she knew how to do at the moment. She needed to get away, from everything. She needed to think. To process everything and what would happen next.

She shouldn’t have kissed Grayson to push away those thoughts. And she shouldn’t have ran away after that. That was stupid. She didn’t want to use Grayson like that. Her heart ached at the thought of the asshole becoming a distraction for her. Something to use to solve the mystery of her father.

She might admit she cared about Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

She was still dressed in her beautiful masquerade ball dress, the frothy waves of her skirt swishing around her as she kicked up stones and twigs and leaves in her wake. These were the wrong shoes to run in, she thought, as she felt her feet throbbing painfully.

She was so close to the House, just had to push past the overwhelming desire to stop and breath, when she felt strong arms wrap around her, her feet dangling off the ground.

“What the fuck?’ She exploded incredulously, glaring down at the freaking asshole who was holding her captive. She thrashed her body against his hold like a fish out of water. She already felt exhausted from sprinting all that way, and she really needed a drink of water but she couldn’t stop wriggling in his hold. Who did he think he was?

“Why did you run?” Grayson huffed, grappling for calm. He had a vice-like grip around her body and she couldn’t help but be reminded of the chandelier task, her body arcing into his instinctively-

Nope. She wasn’t going there right now.

She stared at him in disbelief, tightening the unsteady grip she had around his shoulders to balance herself. “What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?”

“You’re the one who ran after we kissed!” He defended astutely, “Did I do something-”

“Put me down,” she interrupted him sharply, aiming a swift kick towards whatever body part she could reach with her beautiful ballet flats.

He lowered her down gently, before she could actually connect her foot with its intended target, letting her stumble back a few steps. He stood there, waiting for an answer to his question. He didn’t repeat it though, just let her answer when she was ready.

She bent over double, hands on her knees as she grappled for air and trying to make sense of her own emotions.

He didn’t do anything wrong. She really liked that kiss and she really did want his help in finding out the truth about her father. But it was his family, his grandmother, that had something to do with this. She couldn’t do this, she just couldn’t.

“No, you didn’t do anything,” Lyra finally replied, her gaze baring into the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to look into his stony eyes. Afraid the see the judgement there.

“Then why did you run, Lyra?” His tone was calm, like he already knew everything but was waiting for confirmation. She hated that he always sounded so self-assured. She hated that she was so uncertain again.

Like she was remembering that birthday all over again.

Her entire world had been thrown off-kilter again, sending her mind battling for possibilities to make sense of this twisted joke. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled quietly, eyes stuck to the ground in embarrassment. “This isn’t about the kiss. I just needed to think-“ She paused, unsure of how to explain why she actually ran when she wasn’t sure herself.

“If this is about your father,” Grayson said with unshakeable promise, “I vow I will help you find out what happened, Lyra. You have my word.”

Even just the mention of her father from somebody else’s mouth stung like acid. She nodded, her eyes still glued to the dirt floor as she straightened herself up.

Her unease still clung to her, her father’s names rattling around her head like gunfire. The coppery tang of gunpowder and blood coated her senses, preventing her from sucking in air.

Her vision blurred, her ears ringing like the aftermath of gunfire. She thought the situation could’ve gotten better now that she had the help of Grayson. She had someone on her team.

But she’d lived so long being the only person on her team that she couldn’t rely on someone else to help her. She didn’t know how.

Her sense of vision and hearing were impaired, her sense of smell clogged up by blood. But she hadn’t lost her control on touch. She leant into Grayson, digging her face into his shoulder.

His arms wrapped around her back and the back of her knees, lifting her up softly. She couldn’t hear the reassurances he was murmuring into her ear, but she could feel his comforting presence around her- reminding her that he was on her team from the start. Even though she didn’t want it.

She must’ve spaced out because next thing she knew, she was in her temporary room, fingers digging into the sheets beneath her, sobbing into Grayson Hawthorne.

Her sobs were ugly, ragged and breathless. She was just mumbling incoherent nonsense until Grayson shushed her.

He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her and Lyra’s temper flared. Why did he think he could just silence her?

Her furious gaze snapped to his, glaring into the endless abyss of gray. His lips twitched as if he knew that would get her attention. That just made her angrier.

“You will stay here with me,” he murmured, her brain remembering the words from the panic attack she had earlier on. When he had first seen her vulnerable. “Right here. Right now, Lyra.”

She liked the way he said her name. The way it rolled off his tongue with precision and charm and surety. The way the syllables bounced off his tongue, as if he savoured the very words.

She focused on that, on him, on where she was. Here and now

“When I was 13,” he started, his gaze locked onto her panicked eyes, a calmness that she didn’t possess right now. “My brothers hid glitter on top of my bathroom fan, then proceeded to cover the entire bathroom in glue.”

She snorted, lips twitching in amusing at the thought of a clueless Grayson wandering inside her bathroom and being met with a sparkly surprise.

He lifted her palm to his chest, pressing it against his steadily beating heart. It was calm and orderly, just like Grayson. So she tried to match her breathing to its pace, syncing up the him.

“I turned on the fan,” he continued, rubbing his warm hands against her arms, grounding here to the here and now. “Obviously glitter exploded everywhere and stuck to everything.” He still sounded so bitter about it that she actually burst out laughing, in midst of her tears.

Grayson’s lips tilted upwards after listening to her laugh, unable to stop the quiet chuckles eliciting from his own mouth. Lyra focused in on his lips, they were fuller than they should be, and sinfully beautiful. The memory of his lips pressed against hers tingled painfully, aching for more.

Grayson tried his best to control his amusement as he schooled his features back into a bored expression. “That isn’t funny,” he huffed with an eye roll. “There’s still glitter in my bathroom.” 

She shook her head, her breaths slowing down, matching with his own calming pace. She pulled away from him, turning her face away as she dried her wet face. She was slightly embarrassed now. 

But before she could ever let that embarrassment fester, his fingers found the bottom of her chin, tilting it up towards his face. “Don’t do that,” he murmured with a small shake of his head. “I’m on your team, Lyra.”

“Do what?” She asked after she cleared her itchy throat, unable to look away from his piercing gaze.

“Put those walls back up.” There it was again. The way he said her name. Like it was a prayer, whispered over and over again. She liked hearing her name come out his mouth.  

She managed to drag her gaze away, eyeing the barely furnished room. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and just sleep for a bit, but she couldn’t. Not until she properly apologised.

She wasn’t good at apologising though. Especially not to assholes like him. The words caught in her throat, refusing to push past her lips. 

So she changed the subject with a breezy tone. “I liked the first story you told me,” she considered with a small scrunch of her nose. “The one about the cello and the kitten and the long sword.”

“And a crossbow,” he added. His hands never left her arms, soothing her even if she didn’t want to talk about it yet. 

“You have to tell me how that happened-“

“I will not.” He replied firmly. 

“Oh come on,”

They bickered and chatted for ages, Lyra slumped against Grayson’s shoulder as he just chatted on about whatever she wanted to hear next. His voice was grounding. It pushed away the sticky blood and the metallic tang of gunpowder and the burnt remains of those notes. 

Eventually, Grayson stood up, pulling two keys out of his pocket. “I should leave now,” he said, dusting imaginary dust off his vintage suit, tugging at the sleeves.

He handed one key to her, her own room key which he must’ve taken from the trays back downstairs. She held it firmly, letting the cool metal of the intricate designs press patterns into her skin. 

She wouldn’t beg him to stay, despite her wishes. It wasn’t in her nature to plead. She was fine now, better than fine. She was ready.

She nodded at his words, opening her mouth to apologise before he left but the words stuck to the roof of her mouth, heavy and weighted. He waited for her to speak but she couldn’t. She waved him off with a small smile, flopping back onto the bed. 

He turned to leave, casting one last glance at the dark haired girl before gently shutting the door behind him. She strained her ears to listen to his retreating footsteps until they faded completely.

She didn’t know how long she lay on the bed, simply staring at the ceiling contemplating everything until she heard a firm knock at her room. 

She furrowed her dark brows, sitting up with a yawn, hair cascading down her back. She needed sleep desperately.

“Who is it?” She called, stifling her yawn with her hand. 

“Grayson,” the smooth voice replied back, so quiet yet so loud all at once. “Can I come in?”

She nodded before realising he couldn’t actually see her so she called out, “Yeah. Is everything okay?”

The door was pushed open as Grayson re-entered the room, walking with authority and power wherever he went. He shut the door behind her, arms crossed over his chest. 

She raised a questioning brow, signalling for him to talk about why he was here. 

He cleared his throat before speaking. “It appears that our lovely game makers have locked me out of my room,” he said coolly, his jaw ticking in annoyance.

“Oh,” Lyra replied with pursed lips, biting the inside of her cheek. Only now did she notice he was keyless. 

She didn’t know what to say to him just standing there, basically asking for help even if he would never outright demand it. His way of relinquishing some control, she supposed. Dare she say even trust her a bit?

He had helped her, throughout the whole night and going forward. Hell, she was sobbing in his arms not too long ago. So before she could even stop the words from coming out her mouth, she said, “You can stay in here,” before hastily adding, “if you want.”

He assessed her and then the room, nodding once. “Only if you are sure.” His voice was monotone, but she felt the undertone of hesitation there too. It was almost comical to her.

She looked around the room, taking in the sparsely furnished room. There wasn’t a chair, or a couch, or even a rug for him to sit down on.

Only the bed. Where she too was planning to lay. But she couldn’t tell him to get out now. Not after kindly offering her room up. 

So she wordlessly shuffled to one side of the luxurious bed, pulling off her ballet flats and disposing them beside the bed. She lay down, still clad in her beautiful ball gown, waiting for him to do the same.

He paused, as if waiting for something. A moment later,, he bent down to take off his own shoes and lined them up neatly at the foot of the bed. He robotically lay down on the other side of the bed, facing the ceiling, stiff as a board. As if he were laying on a bed of nails.

She rolled her eyes and couldn’t resist teasing him. He looked like a grumpy cat. “Everything okay, Hawthorne?”

“Splendid,” came his bored reply, his eyes meticulously tracing the ceiling. 

“You look like you’re going to fall off the bed,” she stated, propping herself up into an elbow, nudging his shoulder with her other hand. “Move closer.”

He was quiet for so long Lyra wasn’t even sure he was going to reply but then he moved. Only slightly. The barest centimetre. 

Lyra rolled her eyes again, poking his shoulder harder. “Never slept in a bed with someone before?” 

His scowl only intensified, only adding to her own enjoyment. But he moved closer, albeit only slightly. She kept up her taunting and teasing until he was only a few inches away from her own position on the bed.

She lay back down properly, rolling over her other side to get comfy. Her eyes fluttered with exhaustion and she was eager for sleep to take her. 

Just as she was about to drift off, she felt an arm drape over her midsection, clutching her closer to the warm chest pressed against her back. Her cheeks heated at the proximity. She could feel his heart racing, even through the layers. 

She stayed like a statue at first, unsure of what to do or how to react. But she meant what she thought earlier. She did like Grayson. And she wanted someone on her team. To be in her corner. 

So before she lost the nerve, she flipped around in his embrace and pressed a long, hard kiss to his lips, her tongue coaxing entrance to his mouth. 

Sparks ignited from the contact, their bodies creating an unholy inferno daring to be burned out. He pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss fully. 

Her fingers threaded through his blonde locks as his caressed her face, thumb rubbing her cheek softly. 

This kiss wasn’t like the first, or even second kiss. This one was better. As if they had never kissed before yet had kissed a hundred times before.

 It felt like two people dancing, moving simultaneously to the music only they could hear. It felt like a battle, each treading more deeper into greed.

This time it was her who pulled away for air first, his mouth following hers only to be stopped by her finger held against his lips, effectively stopping him.

She could see the protest flash through his eyes so she forced the words out her lips. So she could properly apologise, not the half-hearted explanation she gave earlier.

“I’m sorry for running, Grayson,” she whispered softly, her lips dewy with saliva. Her eyes bore into his eyes with sincerity, using her other hand to push hair away from his face. “It wasn’t about the kiss at all-“

He pushed her finger down impatiently, cutting off her apology with another kiss before pulling away. “You run, I run, Lyra.” 

She grinned, wrapping an arm around his body as she let her eyes flutter shut. And for the first time in a very long while, she had felt safer than she had ever felt.

“Catch me if you can, asshole.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Im writing a road trip AU and I need some advice on what each of the batfam's favorite music genres are. And some prompts if you wouldn't mind!!

I have a number of character playlists on my Spotify which you can check out as a starting reference, or you can search up the music tag on my blog as I've answered a number of music-related questions

For some prompts:

If you want fluff and humor...

Tacky roadside attractions

Trying strange local delicacies (looking at you Rocky Mountain oysters)

Hotel room shenanigans

Taking turns driving

Joint trips with other superhero families

Unique family vacation traditions

Accidentally ending up at the border

If you want emotional hurt/comfort...

Late-night campfire talks

Leaving someone behind at a stop

Someone breaking off from the party

Vacation fatigue

Someone/something getting lost

Bringing work on the trip

If you want mystery and heroics...

Cryptid towns like Point Pleasant or Roswell

Seedy motel criminals

Haunted places

Team-ups with other local heroes

Getting stranded in the middle of nowhere

Facing the North American wilderness

Encountering lesser-known urban legends

[lyrakanefanatic]

just thinking about how confusing it’s gonna be once lyra explains the story of her father shooting himself. not only does it call out the hawthornes (we know this already), but imagine how knox and brady will react when they hear the word CALLA lilys come out of her mouth. they are going to automatically assume that calla had something do to with lyras father, and that will start a whole CHAIN of arguments.

not only that, but the hawthorne brothers will 100% recognize the “what begins a bet? not that” riddle and automatically start questioning grayson. then that’s going to set off the “okay 13 years after the incident regarding my father i decided to call up a special someone” story from lyra and THEN jameson will understand why grayson gave her the 1000 yard stare when he first heard her voice on the helicopter.

okay lowkey this would make a pretty funny situation. like imagine:

lyra, having finished telling the story about how her father shot himself: “-and then my mom and stepfather were there and it was finished. that’s all i can remember, anyway.”

jameson: “that’s terrible… but did you say your father said, “what begins a bet? not that” before he shot himself?”

lyra: “yeah, why?”

xander: “i swear grayson told us that riddle… what, two years ago?”

grayson, with all his brothers eyes turning to him: “..”

lyra: “….”

lyra: “so here’s part two-“