#Since my dad is working here we choose to visit him

[littlestarcafe]

Pics of my vacation, I really love in this area of Mexico despite its heat

[starkwlkr]

Hahah the moms flirting with Charles. You should write a dad flirting with Ruby’s mom and she tells charles and he’s like wtf

you’re not my dad | charles leclerc

yes, the title is a vine reference 🧍🏽‍♀️

request #2: Could we please have return of baby leclerc, where she's out with her mum and a man starts to flirt with yn but he won't leave her alone and then Ruby is like she happy with my papa and then Charles notices and gets him to go away, pleasee and thank you, I love your work

Ruby loves Texas. She loves the food, the cowboy hats and boots she got to wear everytime she visited the state, but most importantly, she loves going to the hotel pool on a hot day.

It was a nice sunny day in Austin when Ruby woke up her parents demanding them to take her to the pool. It was media day for Charles so as much as he wanted, he couldn’t join his family for a pool day.

“Listen to your maman, be good and have fun for me, okay?” Charles pressed several kisses to Ruby’s cheeks.

“Okay, papa!” Ruby gave Charles even more kisses.

Charles said goodbye to his family, wishing he could skip every interview, but he couldn’t leave Carlos alone.

“Baby, which swimsuit do you want?” Y/n asked the girl, who overpacked. Ruby had practically stuffed her entire closet into her tiny princess suitcase.

On the bed laid two swimsuits, a pink and purple one piece. Ruby took choosing her swimsuit seriously. Pink was her favorite color, but purple was her mother’s favorite. She ended up choosing purple. After putting on her swimsuit, Ruby wanted to wear her goggles, arm floaties and her donut shaped floaty. She probably looked crazy with all her floaties on, but she didn’t care. She was ready for the pool.

Y/n was also in her swimsuit, but had on a pair of swim shorts over her bottoms. When they finally arrived to the pool, Ruby stopped herself from running since her mother had told her about the pool rules.

They found an empty table to put their bags on. Ruby patiently waited for Y/n to take out the sunscreen. To her it felt like forever, but eventually Y/n gave her the okay to enter the pool.

“I’m going to be a mermaid maman!” Ruby yelled as she jumped into the pool. She doggy paddled all over the pool with Y/n keeping a close eye on her.

“Maman! I can swim from here to there really fast! Watch me! Are you watching me?” Ruby called out to Y/n, who laughed at the little girl. She swam as fast as she could to one spot then turned to look at her mother. She didn’t expect to see a man talking to Y/n.

“Hi, there.” The man said to Y/n. “I’m Matt.” He introduced himself.

Y/n politely smiled and nodded. “Hi.”

“You visiting?”

“Sure.”

All Y/n wanted to do was enjoy a pool day with her Ruby Jules but this ‘Matt’ guy decided she needed some company.

From her spot in the water, Ruby noticed the frown on her mama’s face. She hated seeing her mama upset so she swam to the edge. “Mama.” Ruby spoke.

“This your daughter? She’s really pretty like her mama.” He said with a smile. “Hi, little girl.”

Ruby looked at her mama, who shook her head. But Ruby wasn’t letting this man ruin her day. No, they didn’t deserve to have their day ruined by some stranger.

“Only my papa can call me and my mama pretty. Sometimes my uncle Pierre calls me pretty, but you can’t.” Ruby replied, already giving her famous ‘Ruby glare’.

“Well your papa is a very lucky man.”

“Yeah, and he loves me and mama more! I’m telling papa.” Ruby said in a threatening manner.

“Hold on, I’m just telling your mama she’s a very pretty woman. No need to tell your dad about it.” The man tried to defend himself. From her seat, Y/n was enjoying Ruby make ‘Matt’ wish he didn’t come up to her.

“Papa calls us pretty. You’re not my dad.” Ruby said with the most serious face ever.

Matt, feeling scared for his life, apologized and excused himself. He walked away wishing he was anywhere else at the moment.

Y/n chuckled and got up from her seat. “You’re the best, my Ruby Jules.” She took off her swim shorts so she was just in swimsuit and joined Ruby in the water.

“Want to play mermaids?”

When Charles finally arrived, both Ruby and Y/n had showered and changed into their matching pajamas. They were currently watching The Lorax on the tv.

“How was the pool?” Charles asked Y/n as he joined them on the bed.

“Wonderful. Ruby, want to tell papa your favorite part?” Y/n asked her daughter.

“We played mermaids and I swam really fast and then some guy was talking to maman but I made him go away and then we came here and now we’re watching my favorite movie!”

“What?”

[missberrycake]

So, I know we all love the headcanon that Eddie moved in with Wayne when he was a teen or a pre-teen, be it because one or both parents died, chucked him out, are in prison, etc. But! I’ve been thinking about another option.

What if Wayne has been looking after Eddie since he was a toddler?

It all comes as a bit of a shock to Wayne who, in his early forties, had pretty much assumed he’d missed the boat on the whole ‘kids’ thing. And yet, here he is, taking in his baby nephew when his brother turns up on his doorstep one day.

When it starts, it’s only supposed to be for a short while. His brother’s wife is newly out of the picture (it’s a crying shame, Wayne had liked her, she’d stayed a gentle soul throughout) and he just needs some time to get himself sorted, right? But then a week turns into a month, turns into two months, turns into half a year and Wayne? Well, he gets attached to the kid, so sue him. 

Because little Eddie is a rambunctious boy. He’s full of gummy smiles and bubbling laughter and Wayne runs himself in circles trying to stop him from toddling into sharp corners and sockets and yards of rope. The two of them are well suited, it seems, and Wayne takes to settling Eddie on his knee in the evenings and going through the races for the next day in the paper.

Eddie chooses a winner more than once. 

Every day, when Wayne comes to pick him up from Julia’s two trailers over (he’s still got to work, something his brother hadn’t considered before he left, or maybe he didn’t care), Eddie greets him with his arms out, already chatting away with the handful of phrases that he knows. 

The boy’s hair is soft and his cheeks smooth and if Wayne gets a little sentimental when he tucks him into bed at night, then nobody else needs to know, do they?

He’s a sweet boy. He deserves someone to care for him. 

So when his brother turns up again with vague mutterings about there being some work for him down in Florida, Wayne’s chest aches. 

“What’s your plan for the littl'un?” he asks.

“Ed? Whad’ya mean?”

“I mean, have you got a place to stay lined up? Who’s gonna look after him while you’re working?”

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

He shrugs and Wayne feels something close to panic bubbling in his veins. When he suggests that perhaps his brother should travel ahead, get himself settled first before sending for Eddie, he doesn’t expect him to agree so readily. He can’t say he’s much surprised though. 

The entire exchange doesn’t take more than ten minutes and his brother doesn’t ask after Eddie once, doesn’t show any desire to see him, doesn’t even step inside the trailer—not one jot of fatherly affection shines through. 

It only occurs to Wayne that evening that perhaps this was the outcome his brother wanted. But, hell, it’s fine with him—he’ll let him think he’s winning. Wayne knows who’s got the real prize here. 

He doesn’t mention the visit to Eddie, the kid doesn’t need to know, too busy digging holes and collecting bugs. 

Just like he expected, his brother never sends for the boy. They get letters for the first few years, poorly wrapped and ill-thought through trinkets for the kid’s birthday and Christmas, but it’s not long until they fall by the wayside too. 

Once Eddie’s older, they have a conversation about it. Have to, really, when Eddie comes home from preschool and is full to the brim of questions, because apparently Peter Gillespie says that everyone has to have a mom and a dad, “and I know I have a mom because you’ve told me about her and I said that she’s not around and Mrs. Lang told Peter to be quiet but then I thought about it, but I don’t know, ‘cause you’re my dad, right? I know I don’t call you dad, but that’s what you are, isn’t it? Because what else would you be and Peter says I have to have one.”

It floors Wayne for a moment, but he recovers quickly. He leads Eddie to the couch where he sets him on his lap. For the next while the two of them look through all the pictures that Wayne can find of Eddie’s mom and Wayne’s brother. Wayne makes sure to hold him close and tells him it doesn’t matter that he’s ‘just’ his uncle, that he loves him as much as he would a kid of his own, that he’ll always be around to take care of him. And Eddie takes it all in his stride, in the way only children can. 

“So I can’t call you dad?” he asks.

Wayne lets out a long breath, rubs at his jaw. 

“It’s not that you can’t, kiddo, it’s just that I ain’t.“ 

Because it feels a little like stealing. What would happen, if one day his brother came back and found his kid calling Wayne ‘Dad’. If the boot were on the other foot, Wayne would be angry as all heck. And there was still time, wasn’t there? For his brother to see the error of his ways? Who was Wayne to keep all of that from Eddie? 

“Okay,” Eddie says quietly. “Uncle Wayne is still good.”

“Oh, it’s still good, is it?” Wayne crows and squeezes Eddie tight. “I’m sure glad I meet your high standards, your majesty.”

Eddie just giggles at that. He always giggles when Wayne puts on his voices. 

“And what would the esteemed gentleman like for dinner tonight, huh? The options are spaghetti hoops, spaghetti hoops, or - now let me think. Oh! Spaghetti hoops.”

The nail in the coffin comes one day in the summer of 1978, just before Eddie’s twelfth birthday. It’s been over eight years since his brother dropped him off in search of better things and sure, there have been some days where Wayne has been tearing his hair out, but through all of it he knows he made the right decision that day in the doorway of the trailer. He wouldn’t change Eddie for the world, and he knows by now that there are some out there that would, who would only see the difficult or the different in him, but isn’t that what being a parent is? Loving your kid no matter what? Seeing the good in them and helping them see it themselves?

When his brother slams the door shut on some car so shiny that Wayne wonders if it’s fresh out of the packet, he knows they’re in for some trouble. 

“Nice car, man,” Eddie whistles from where he’d been lounging on the plastic chairs out the front of the trailer. Clearly the sight of something so drenched in luxury in their neighbourhood makes it so that he just can’t help himself.

Wayne’s brother grunts in that way that he always did when they were younger, like he’d gotten away with something. 

Wayne just watches, then, as his brother nods at the book in Eddie’s hands. “A reader, are you?” he says, a joke in his voice. “What’s this? Always knew there were brains in the family somewhere.”

“It’s ‘Lord of the Rings’,” Eddie replies, uncertain. His gaze flicks to Wayne, who nods. Funny, that the kid was quiet now, he’d been ranting and raving to Wayne about that goddamn book every spare second of the week. “It’s got orcs and wizards and elves in and stuff.”

“Fairytales?” his brother scoffs. It grates on Wayne like a physical thing. “What you been doing to the boy, Wayne? Here.” He turns back to Eddie. “You know me, kid?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“I’m your old man! So you like cars, do you? Want to go for a spin in her?”

“You don’t have to Eddie. Not if you don’t want,” Wayne pipes up then. He knows his boy well enough that he can see the internal war going on behind his eyes. And, hell, it is a nice car. Eddie bites his lip and stares at Wayne, eyes wide, asking permission.

“‘Course he wants to.” And his brother is already walking back to the driver’s side door. He winks at Eddie. “Gotta lot of catching up to do, ain’t we?”

“Hold this for me?” Eddie asks and hands Wayne his book before jogging away.

There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when Wayne watches the dust trail behind the car as it leaves the trailer park. He sits out on the porch all afternoon, eyes flashing towards the road every few minutes. It isn’t until almost dusk that it careens into the park once more. 

The passenger door slams violently and Eddie stomps towards him.

“He’s not my dad,” he splutters as he pushes his face against Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne can feel where his cheeks are hot and flushed.

Cradling the back of Eddie’s head with one hand, he mutters gently, “Yeah, son, I know.”

And how had he ever thought that man could be Eddie’s father? No, Eddie may still call him ‘Uncle Wayne’, but they’ve gone well beyond that and both of them know it.

Directing Eddie back inside the trailer, Wayne sends a small nod to his brother where the man is still lingering by his car door, looking faintly murderous. 

Let him try, he thinks. No one’s taking his boy from him now, come hell or high water.

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?”  I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head.  You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?”  I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home.  Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced.  “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

 I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.”  I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.” 

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.”  A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.”  The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo

[krirebr]

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever. Part of the Psycho Killer AU

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left. 

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

[papriikau]

I miss us sometimes

JAMES WILSON x FEM!READER

SUMMARY You and James Wilson hadn't spoken since your divorce. You still care for him after all this time, but choose to avoid him to avoid getting hurt. But when a family emergency forces you to reconnect with your ex-husband, you struggle with your feelings for each other.

WARNINGS sex mentioned, nothing too bad.

NOTES I started this and half way realized I didn't know where I wanted to go with it so the last half is kinda rushed, but its still cute.

It had been 5 years since you had spoken to James Wilson. Once the divorce had been finalized, that was the end of it. For James, he had already gone through two divorces before you, but it had only been your first. You truly were enamored by him; he was 6 years older and he seemed like he had it all together when the two of you met, but that facade slowly faded away after only 3 years of marriage.

You avoided the hospital he worked at whenever a hospital visit was required, that was until last night. You received a phone call that your mom had a stroke and was taken to Princeton-Plainsboro hospital. Obviously your need to avoid James was a lot less important than your mom, so you drove over to the hospital.

“Dad what's happening?” you ask your father and the doctor he was talking with informs you that she's in the ER and all you can do is wait. And that’s what you do, you wait around until you hear a familiar voice call out your name.

“Good evening House,” you say tiredly.

“Here for a conjugal visit? I can call Wilson down,” 

“Please don’t, I'd rather not know I’m here,”

“Too late. Wilson! I didn’t know you ordered a stripper,” House yells out as your ex-husband walks into the room. You curl up in the chair you’re in, hiding your face in your hands. He walks over and House promptly takes his leave.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he says awkwardly, as if he isn’t sure what to say to his ex-wife he hasn’t seen in 5 years. You sit up and take a big breath in. You're not in the best state at the moment, bags under your eyes, messy bed head and pajama pants and a sweater.

“My mom had a stroke, what about you, what are you doing here?” You ask.

“Oh, how's she uh- how's she doing?” James asks, ignoring the stupid question you asked.

“I don’t know, I just got here and no ones told me anything yet,” 

“Give me a moment,” he walks off, and you watch as he talks to some of the other doctors for a couple of minutes before returning to you.

“Did they say anything?”

“She's stable, they have been moving her to her own room soon, but they'd like to keep her overnight to monitor her,” he informs. You're glad he is keeping this interaction fairly professional, you don’t know how you’d act if he started trying to talk about your personal life. The two of you stay silent for a while. You intend to keep it that way, but knowing James, he's bound to start a conversation about something.

“Do you still work at the University?” he asks.

“Yeah, I was promoted to department head four years ago,” you play with your nails awkwardly.

“I have to get back to work but maybe we could catch up over lunch some time?” he offers. You look up and he has a kind but nervous smile on his face, looking down at you.

“I don’t know if this is the best time to be asking me out to lunch,” you say slowly. He winces and runs a hand down his face.

“Right, I'll see you around then,” he says, an embarrassed haze over his expression. You nod, letting him get back to whatever he was doing. Not long after your mom was moved into her own room where you could be with her. Considering it had been the middle of the night when you received the call, you were tired and ended up falling asleep. 

It wasn’t until afternoon that you saw James again. You had called in and canceled your classes for the day so you could be next to your mom. Your dad had gone home to grab a few things and your mom was asleep in the hospital bed, when you hear small knocks on the door. You turn and see James in the doorway. You wipe the sleep from your eyes and stand up.

“How's she doing?” he asks.

“Doctors said she’s gonna be fine, she should be discharged tomorrow morning,” you nod, keeping your eyes on the floor, not wanting to look at him.

“That's good, how are you doing?”

“I think I’m doing alright, just worried about mom,” James got close to your parents when you were together. They had grown fond of him and when you cut contact, they were devastated but decided to do so as well to support you.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Not since last night,”

“Why don't I buy you lunch,” he offers.

"You don’t have to do that, I’ll probably get something when dad gets back, I don't want to leave mom, so,” you ramble a little bit. You blink a ew times, trying to clear your head. Talking to him again brings you back to being 24, flirting with the cute doctor at the Oncology seminar. 

“We can just go to the cafeteria and bring it back here, how about that?” He offers a kind smile. God he still had it. 

You think for a moment before hesitantly nodding, “okay.”

He takes you out to the cafeteria, suddenly self-conscious of your state, “House is working on a case right now so he won't be bothering us,” James calms your nerves a little.

“Thank god, don't get me wrong he's great, but not really,” you let out a quiet laugh.

“Tell me about it,” he rolls his eyes playfully. You walk through the cafeteria and grab some food, your appetite hasn’t quite come back yet so you only grab enough to hold you over. James, being the gentleman he is, pays for your lunch and walks you back to your moms room. She’s still sleeping, but your dad is back so you go sit next to him. James gives him a polite nod and exchanges brief pleasantries before leaving, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly before stepping out. 

James checks in again before he leaves his shift, and the next morning, your mom is discharged. Your dad helps her into the car, telling him to take her home and that you’d be over soon after. They drive away and then you go back inside of the hospital, working up some nerves, deciding at the door that maybe you don't actually want to do it, but you push through the nerves and turn back around.

Three knocks on the office door and James peeks his head out, opening it all the way when he sees it’s you. “Hey, how's your mom?”

“She just got discharged, dads are taking her home now,” You nod nervously.

“That's good, is there anything I can do?” he asks, curious as to why you're knocking on his office, very clearly searching him out.

“Are you free Saturday? Around noon?” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your sweater. “You asked me to lunch and I thought I’d take you up on that offer,” He stares for a moment, not sure what to do, but nods his head unconsciously.

“Yes, absolutely,” he clears his throat and invites you into his office. “Where uh- where do you want to go?” he asks.

“How about that lunch place we always went to, the one down the street from our old house?” you suggested, not sure if you should have suggested such a staple in your relationship.

“Okay, Saturday at noon, I'll meet you there,” he agrees and you offer him a smile before leaving the hospital.

—

James taps his foot nervously, looking at his watch. You're running 20 minutes late, and James was about to leave when the bell on the door jingles and he looks up to see you.

“I’m so sorry, I had to come into work today to mark papers,” you apologize, internally cringing at your own lateness.

“You're okay,” he says, remembering the days he came home late or missed date night because of work, he is fine excusing 20 minutes. For two hours the both of you hang out in the restaurant, just talking and catching up on the last 5 years.

For the longest time when you thought of James you thought about the reasons he pissed you off, or what got on your nerves, the reasons you got divorced, but talking to him after all this time makes you remember a lot of the reasons that you married him in the first place. It feels natural talking to him, it feels good talking to him and you hate it.

You hate that you feel good around him.

The lunch date ends and you both go your separate ways, promising to do it again sometimes. You exchange numbers and the next week try to make plans, but busy schedules get in the way and the two of you aren't able to pick a day and then it dies out quickly, and you go back to not speaking.

—

You're sitting on your couch, watching a movie when the phone rings, it's late at night so you're not sure who could be calling.

“Hello?” you say into the phone.

“Hey, can I ask a really big favor?” James says from the other end. You look at the clock to see it’s 11pm.

“What is it?”

“I don’t have my car right now, or my wallet and I missed the bus and I don’t know who else to call so-” you cut him off.

“You're at the hospital?” 

“Yes,”

“Can you wait 40 minutes?” you sigh.

“If your busy then I can ask someone for money for a cab,”

“Okay, I’ll leave now,” you hang up the phone before he can argue and get in the car, throwing on a jacket and some shoes before leaving. It starts to rain and when you pull up in front of the hospital, you flash your headlights and James runs out, covering his head with his jacket.

“I didn’t know you lived so far away, I could have-” you cut him off again.

“It’s no problem,” you yawn, not looking forward to the drive home. He thanks you and directs you to his apartment, which is 20 minutes in the opposite direction.

“Thank you,” he says and offers you a warm smile.

“No problem,” you wipe your eyes and yawn. “Maybe call me earlier than 11 next time,” you laugh tiredly.

“I’ll make sure to,” he gets out of the car, thanking you again and heading inside. You sit in the car, trying to wake yourself up before driving an hour home. You turn the car back on and as you put the car in drive, James knocks on the window, his jacket over his head, you put down the window a little, not wanting to get your car seat too wet.

“What’d you forget?” you start looking around the passenger's seat.

“I forgot you,” he laughs.

“What?” you narrow your eyes.

“You shouldn’t drive while you're that tired, stay the night,” he offers and a red haze covers your cheeks.

“I don’t know if that's the best idea,”

“Sleep on my couch, please,” You think for a minute before shutting the car off again, quickly getting out and running with him to the front door. You walk over to his apartment and he opens the door, letting you in. He shakes off his jacket and hangs it up. You stand there awkwardly, your eyes watching him roll up the sleeves of his shirt, unable to take your eyes off him.

God this was a mistake.

I'll grab you some blankets, get comfortable and make yourself at home.” That simple, and commonly used phrasing comes off very different to you, and he felt it too. He swiftly exited into his bedroom while you sat on the couch, your hands in your lap, looking around at the books littered around, coffee stains on the table, and of course a few pieces you remember as being in your shared home. You remember picking out the couch cushions with him the night he proposed.

“Here,” he says, another memory in his arms. He handed you the blanket and you couldn’t help but just look up at him. “Everything alright?” he tilts his head.

“I think so, thanks for letting me stay,” you recover quickly.

“Your welcome,” he says and sits in the arm chair, leaning back in it. “Sorry if this is weird,” he says after a moment of silence.

“It is a little,” you say, looking down at the blanket.

“Well it's not like we're strangers,” 

“We kind of are,”

“We know each other,” he says.

“We used to know each other,” you correct. He runs a hand down his face, letting it fall into his lap.

“It has been a while hasn’t it,” he sighs, looking over at you, wanting you to look up at him too. You could have him if you wanted. He invited you back into his place, he had to know there was even the smallest possibility that could happen, but you knew it would be too hard to leave if you did sleep with him. You have to remind yourself how shitty he had been close to the end of your marriage; he was negligent and never home, and when you were in a state of vulnerability and needed someone, he wasn’t there to help you.

But God the sex was good.

“I’ll let you rest,” he nods and heads to his own room. You let your head fall into your hands. How could you be so stupid, you didn’t fight for him back then, and you're still too much of a coward to do it now.

Eventually, sleep overtook you and you woke up to James sitting in his kitchen, sipping a coffee. “Morning,” you rub your head tiredly, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Sleep well?” he asks

“Good enough,” you get up and stretch, “mind if I have some?” You point to the coffee pot.

“I can’t drink a pot on my own,” he laughs and you laugh with him, search through a few cabinets until you find a mug pouring yourself some.

“Not sure how I’m going to explain to my boyfriend I spent the night at my ex-husband's place,”

“You have a boyfriend?” he says, the slightest bit of outrage in his voice,

“No,” you smile coyly into your mug. He rolls his eyes.

“Any luck in that department?”

“Not really, I’ve been focused on work,” you shrug. He says the same thing.” You were my first like, real relationship,” he can't say the same.

The two of you sit in silence for a little while before you break it once again.

“Being divorced sucks,” you admit, sipping on your coffee.

“Tell me about it,” he sighs. The both of you finish drinking your coffee in silence. It's not that you don't know what to say, you just have nothing else to say.

“I should be heading out, I got some things to do today,” you put the mug in his sink. 

“Thanks again for last night, if I had known you lived so far away I would have found another way,” 

“I’m glad you called me,” 

“Really?” he tilts his head.

“I miss us sometimes,” you look up at him, a bit of a shocked, awkward expression on his face.

“Only sometimes?” He takes a minute to respond.

“Only sometimes,” you repeat, silence filling the air once again. “Maybe we could get dinner tomorrow?”

“Uh- yea, I'd love that,” he stutters, his cheeks dusted with a bit of pink. You love when he gets flustered.

You smile, heading for the front door, “I’ll pick you up at 7.” “It's a date,” he takes a step forward, deciding to not get any closer.

“It’s a date,” you repeat before slipping out and into your car. It takes you a moment to recover; the butterflies in your stomach impeding your ability to think straight. Eventually you make the drive home, thinking about your date with your ex-husband.

—

“So who’s the unlucky girl,” House bursts into Wilsons office.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Wilson deflects.

“So there is a girl?” House concludes.

“There’s no girl,”

“Then who was this from?” House shows him a little sticky note you wrote him. Wilson furrows his brow.

“You ate my lunch?” he accuses.

“Who is it,”

“No one! I’m not seeing anyone!”

“Liar!” House accuses. That's when there's a knock on Wilson's office. House, being the one standing, opens to the door, only to find you standing there with two coffee cups.

“Am I interrupting something?” You ask and watch as House looks between you and Wilson.

“You’re dating your ex-wife?!” House says overly loudly. You wince, walk into the office and shut the door.

“Good to see you too Greg,” you say, forcing yourself to be polite before making your way over to James and sit on his desk, ignoring House.“ Thought you could use some coffee,”

“You didn’t happen to bring lunch did you?” James rolls his eyes.

“No, we could go out real quick, on me,” you offer.

“Anything to get out of here.” he stands up and gives you a kiss before leading you out of his office, his hand on your back.

“Am I invited?” House calls out after, to which you both just roll your eyes.

“Where do you want to go?” you ask, leaving the hospital.

“How about our usual lunch spot?” James suggests.

“Aren’t you tired of that spot?”

“Not one bit,” he looks over at you with loving eyes and grabs your free hand with his. You both lean in for a quick kiss, then go to lunch.

[morganski-19]

The One With Mother’s Day

Eddie trips out of his room, rubbing at his eyes, to answer the door. Someone choosing nine in the morning on a Sunday to knock very loudly on their front door.

“Yeah,” he says blearily as the door swings open.

“Eddie, it’s so nice to see you again.” Karen Wheeler says from the other side of the door. “I remember Nancy saying that you moved in with her about a year ago.”

Eddie tries to blink the tired away. “Mrs. Wheeler, hello. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” He steps out of the way so she can enter the apartment.

She walks in and stands awkwardly in the walkway between the kitchen and the living room. “Well, I didn’t know I was coming here until this morning. Is Nancy home?”

“You drove all the way from Indiana to here, that’s quite the trip. And yeah, she’s probably up, hold on a second.”

“Well, it’s been forever since I visited Nancy, and I thought since it’s Mother’s Day, I might spend the day with my daughter. My other kids are either too busy with school or too far to drive so suddenly.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” Eddie mutters as he knocks on Nancy’s door. “Hey, Nance, you up?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Eddie looks back at Karen with a polite smile. “Could I come in for a second?”

“Sure,” Nancy responds suspiciously.

Eddie quickly opens and shuts the door behind him. “Your mother’s here.”

Nancy sits straighter in the chair by her window. Shutting her book and placing it on the small table beside her. “What. She didn’t tell me she was coming.”

“She apparently didn’t even know she was coming until this morning. It’s at least a five-hour drive from home.”

“She got up at four in the morning just to come visit me. Why?”

Eddie shrugs. “Something about Mother’s Day and her other kids being too busy or something. I don’t know. She looked, ok? Like every other time I’ve seen her. But like, with that crazed fluster she would get when Mike’s friends were over, and your dad refused to get off of that lazy boy he had.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “This could go one of two ways, and I’m not sure either of them will be good.”

She gets up and heads to the living room. Where her mother still stands, hands rubbing together anxiously. “Nancy, I’m sorry to show up out of the blue, I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night with a phone call.”

“That’s ok,” Nancy says with a partially fake smile, giving her mom a hug. “Eddie said you just drove here this morning, you must have left pretty early.”

Karen shrugs. “Yeah, well, you leave early enough, you miss all of the traffic. And the highways are so nice to drive on when no ones around. But, anyway, how are you doing, it’s been a while since we talked.”

“Pretty good. Just working a lot, trying to be able to write something other than stupid tabloids and junk articles. But mom-.”

Eddie groans in the kitchen, opening the empty coffee container. “I’m going to rob Steve and Robin’s for coffee.”

“Ok,” Nancy replies as he shuts the door.

“Steve and Robin still live across the hall,” Karen smiles. “That’s so nice. Do Jonathan and his college friend still live across the street?”

“Argyle,” she reminds. “And yes, they do. Mom-.”

Karen claps her hands. “Oh, I am starving. Why don’t we go out to breakfast? You know, catch up, my treat.”

“It’s Mother’s Day, shouldn’t it be my treat?” Nancy eyes her mother skeptically. Wondering why she really showed up out of nowhere. Got up in the middle of the night just to have a surprise visit.

“Just spending the day with me would be a treat. Go on, get ready, I’ll just wait out here.”

Nancy nods and returns to her room.

-

When Eddie uses his spare key to go into Steve and Robin’s apartment, he expects them both to be asleep. Robin never gets up before noon if she doesn’t have to, and Steve always has the weekends off, so he should be relaxing. Instead, Steve’s sitting in the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear and fingers pinching his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He barely notices when Eddie enters the apartment.

“No mom, I haven’t seen her since college.” Steve sounds utterly exhausted. “Because we never really talked then either other than that time you came to visit me. Maybe because I’m happy being single. It’s a perfectly respectable job, and I love it. I didn’t want to work with dad.” He sighs as his mom drones on about something. “I didn’t call for this, I called to wish you a happy Mother’s Day. You know, it’s late where you are so how about I let you go. Love you.”

Steve hangs up the phone, placing it face down on the table and letting his head fall into his hands. He stays like that, frozen.

“That didn’t sound fun,” Eddie breaks the silence. Spooning a serving of coffee into a plastic bag.

Steve huffs out a laugh, fixing the glasses on his face and sitting back on the chair. Crossing his arms and shaking his head, avoiding eye contact. “Oh you know, just normal chats with my mother. She can’t go one conversation without trying to set me up with some rich family’s daughter she knows.”

Eddie winces. “Never a nice rich boy in that mix.”

The glare Steve gives Eddie is tired and chilling. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie sits across from Steve. “Sounds like it sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Steve sighs, looking at his phone. “I love my parents, I really do. But sometimes it’s hard to. Especially when they keep trying to set me up with people I don’t even know or get me to change careers. I just wished they respected me more than they did.”

“They should, you have a job you love and so what if you’re single. That’s a pretty great deal if you ask me.”

Eddie’s phone dings.

Nancy: Me and my mom are going out for breakfast

Eddie: Cool, have fun

Nancy: I will try

“If it makes you feel any better, Nancy’s mom showed up unannounced and now they’re going out to breakfast.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Like she drove here this morning?” Eddie nods in confirmation. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah, I know. Still don’t know why she’s here.” Eddie’s stomach rumbles. “God, I’m starving.”

“I haven’t eaten yet, you want to go get something? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

Eddie smiles. “I do not. Let me get changed, I’ll meet you in five.”

-

Nancy thanks their waiter when he brings them their food. Silently piercing the yolk of her egg and watching it run over to her hashbrowns. Karen talking for the both of them.

“Have you talked to your brother recently? Him and Will are settling in well over in New York, their place looks nice. Small, but nice. I’ll have to take a trip out there some time to visit them.”

She just nods along to her mother’s ramblings. Watching as she pauses to take a bite and just continues. Always dodging around the subject of why she’s here whenever Nancy tries to ask.

“It’s so nice that they’re still together after all these years. Not that being alone is anything bad. I miss the single life. Well, I never really had that much of a single life. I met your father in high school and that was that. Part of me wishes I had a few years to explore, like you did. Get to live life before having a family.”

“Yeah,” Nancy interrupts. Coldly. “Why are you here mom?”

Karen looks taken aback. “Is it wrong to visit my daughter?”

“No, it’s not. But you’ve never just drove here on a whim. There was always at least a phone call, booking a hotel stay. Not waking up at four in the morning one night and deciding to drive five hours to come visit me.” Nancy softens her face. “This isn’t like you, what’s going on?”

Karens mouth twitches as she places down her silverware. Fiddling with her napkin. “You know how it was you father’s and my anniversary last week.”

Nancy nods, listening.

“Well, he forgot, again, and I didn’t want to make the plans again this year. I wanted him to surprise me like he did when we were young. With none of the kids in the house anymore, it gets kinda lonely me and him. When I asked that morning, he scrambled to make plans but couldn’t get a reservation anywhere until last night. Where we basically had a silent meal, paid, and left. No surprises, no anything.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I know how dad can be with the romantic stuff.”

Karen sighs. “Any stuff. If it wasn’t me doing everything, nothing would get done. We haven’t even slept in the same bed since Mike went off to college, and that was years ago. I thought maybe we could try and rebuild what we had. Guess I was wrong.”

Nancy frowns. “I didn’t know that.”

“How could you? You never really came home once you graduated, on to bigger and better things. Not that I blame you, I am so proud of you and the life you’ve built here. I just, didn’t want to bore you with the problems in my life. In my marriage.”

“You could have. I would have listened.”

“I appreciate that.” Karens pauses, closing her eyes. “I’ve decided to leave your dad, Nancy. That’s why I came out to visit you.”

Nancy can’t say she’s surprised. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t been happy in years, we all knew it was coming. I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“Whatever you want,” Nancy smiles. “You get to do whatever you want. Go back to school, get a shitty part time job. Get back out there and find a man you deserve. Find new friends, anything. You get to build a new life.”

Karen smiles, tears shining her eyes. “Well, that’s all true, I guess. Thank you for not judging me for this.”

“I never would.” Nancy goes back to her breakfast. “So, what else would you like to do while you’re in town. I have tomorrow off too.”

“I don’t know. But I am excited to find out.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts

[magicaldragons]

ugramm (vs. salaar)

for @noisywolfwagonpeanut-blog

so, Ugramm takes place on a much smaller scale than Salaar, where:

Khansaar = Mughor Devaratha = Agastya Varadha = Balaa Aadhya = Nithya Krishnakanth = Prabhakar Vishwa = Bilal Shivarudra, an MLA, and his son, Dheeraj who are equivalents for Khansaar's leaders

the plot, with comparisons:

the movie starts with an animated backstory, telling us that the reason Nithya's dad is in so much trouble is because he was asked to make a shipment (since he owns a shipping company) for Shivarudra's smuggled goods, and he refuses, due to which his wife is killed

before the men can kill Nithya, who is a baby at the time, Prabhakar promises to make the shipment, but he steals most of the materials, selling them himself. He tips the police off about Shivarudra, and runs to Australia with Nithya.

this is particularly interesting because the reason that Krishnakanth is in trouble hasn't been revealed yet in Salaar, but it's the first thing we find out in ugramm i highly doubt the reason will be the same in Salaar though, since it's implied Aadhya's mother dies in Australia and never got a chance to visit India.

Twenty years later, Shivarudra is out of jail, though he has been keeping the syndicate active through his son, and he still craves vengeance on Prabhakar.

he's in a state similar to Radha Rama, which probably means that Krishnakanth is the reason that Radha Rama had to leave Khansaar, and does not really show her face anywhere, choosing to operate instead through obulamma, vedha, and the others.

In the present day, an older Nithya comes to Bangalore to visit her mother's grave (not with ashes), and is kidnapped by Dheeraj's men, but Agastya comes for her after receiving a call from a friend (Vishwa) and takes her to his home afterwards

therefore it's Agastya who saves her (without violence, specifically), and develops a rapport with Nithya, rather than how it is in Salaar, with Bilal doing most of the work, and minimal involvement from Deva.

Starting here, there's a whole series of events that bring Agastya and Nitya closer, and MANY motifs and themes that recur, as a symbol of their feelings for each other.

this is a section, that even though it gets major importance in Ugramm, is completely skipped in Salaar, with prashanth even going as far as to not show any chemistry between Aadhya and Deva whatsoever. there's also much more comedy and lightheartedness in Ugramm, which prashanth has cut out of Salaar, which really drives it home that he means for Salaar to be very dark and undeniably gritty.

some of these scenarios include:

Agastya teaching Nithya the names of various vegetables in Kannada, because she's temporarily responsible for the cooking and other housework (since Agastya is hiding her true identity from his mother).

Nithya bothered by people in the market place, which is when Agastya's mother gives him permission to save her. [he draws a line around her in the sand (with an umbrella) and says: "the line is drawn. everything in this circle belongs to me"]

a whole montage telling us that, Agasthya will be everywhere Nithya is, just a step behind her, and as long as he is there, no one will dare to touch her.

Agastya sheltering her from the rain. with an umbrella. several times

he saves her from Shivarudra's men, and finds where she's hiding based on the fruit she describes to him over a call, because she doesn't know where she is (it's a gooseberry)

he takes her to her mother's grave and when they reach she says: "do i look pretty? (for my mother)" & he's just awestruck by her beauty

basically, prashanth really builds a meaningful relationship between Agastya & Nithya and makes us root for them.

there's this scene where Agastya's tattoo is revealed to Nithya, and she has a whole phase where she's kind of scared (unlike Aadhya, who is immediately fascinated by Deva's violence), but it still serves as relationship development for the both of them.

in Salaar, on the other hand, Deva and Aadhya barely get a chance to talk, and Deva doesn't really form the best of first impressions which makes me wonder: if prashanth intends on putting Deva and Aadhya together, would he really save all of that characterization and plot, just to dump it on us in part two?

Eventually, after observing how mysterious Agastya has been at times, and hearing rumors from the neighbors, Nithya asks Vishwa about Agastya's past, which is then shown to us in a way that's not as elaborate as what we see in Salaar.

an important point to note is that throughout the course of Ugraam's flashback, we know that Agasthya is intensely loyal to Balaa due to a promise made when they were children, but we see no proper reason for that fealty. We are never told why Agastya goes so far for Balaa, so there's no emotional quotient tied to any of Agastya's actions. Balaa especially is shown to be a bit smug when people witness the power Agastya holds, which makes it feel a little like Balaa is using Agastya as a weapon, and not as if Agastya is offering it himself.

Agastya saves the women of Mughor from a man like Vishnu (but imagine without the theatrics), which gets Balaa put in jail, and the way Agastya storms the jail to get Balaa out (which takes two minutes) is extremely anticlimactic compared to what happens in Salaar.

after getting Balaa out of jail, Agastya promises to conquer Mughor for him, and there's a specific scene where he gives Balaa a map and says:

"whatever you point at, will be yours"

this is the point in the plot at which Salaar: Ceasefire ends.

Following this, Agastya goes on a rampage, capturing areas of Mughor for Balaa, which gains both him and Balaa several enemies. Politically, things become heated, and it doesn't help that some people, including Balaa's brother, want credit for some victories.

Balaa's brother is irrationally aggressive at times, and this reaches a limit when Balaa's brother threatens an innocent women, whose husband they have just killed. Agastya disagrees with hurting her, since she's not involved, and helps the woman. Balaa's brother, feeling humiliated, says something about hurting Agastya's mom, and that turns out horribly, leading to a fight. This then ends with the brother's death, when he actually attempts to find Agastya's mother.

There is a chance that Deva will be responsible for Baachi's death for different reasons (and an even smaller chance that Baachi might not die at all), especially because Amma isn't in Khansaar when Deva returns, after 25 years. He returns alone. In, Ugramm, Agastya and his mother only escape their hometown when Agastya is well into adulthood. Ugramm does not have Salaar's childhood plot whatsoever, which changes the circumstance around Deva's return to Khansaar. This means that, if Deva invokes Varadha's rage by hurting/killing Baachi, it might be for something other than Baachi threatening his mother.

Agastya decides to leave Mughor, knowing that what he has done will be unforgivable for Balaa, and Balaa stops him right before they leave, intent on killing him. Agastya's mother, worried for her son, begs Agastya to make her a promise that he will never enter Mughor again or commit violence.

Agastya makes the promise at the last moment, and Balaa decides not to hurt him, before they part ways.

Fast forward to the present, Nithya's dad comes for her from Australia, and Agastya lets her go, (due to the classic 'she's too good for me' syndrome) which disappoints her, but she is then kidnapped and taken to Mughor, compelling Agastya once more, to step foot into that place.

Agastya fights to save her, killing Dheeraj in the process, but just before leaving, Balaa finds him. Agastya refuses to fight, willing to accept whatever punishment Balaa deems necessary, as long as Nithya is spared,

but Balaa, after consideration says:

"I won't fight a man who won't fight back. Even if I win, it'll bring me shame to attack a man who is already weak from fighting."

Before Balaa lets him go, he makes it clear that he has somewhat moved on, and acknowledges their friendship once again, calling Nithya "sister-in-law".

The movie ends with Agastya and Nithya outside of Mughor's borders, where he tells her to let him go, because of the way he is. She refuses, drawing a line in the sand around him as a callback to the first time he fought for her, and tells him that "everything in the circle belongs to her," ending the movie with the both of them together, and their prospective futures ahead of them.

this is where many things can go wrong if prashanth decides to put Deva and Aadhya together in a similar way, because he has not set them up for that. with the way he's laid out the plot and characterization, it is legitimately impossible to imagine: 1. Deva choosing anyone over Varadha, even if Varadha dies by the end of part two or 2. Varadha letting Deva go after they meet again, especially if he is able to move on from whatever Deva did that hurt him

All in all, Prashanth has made many minor changes regarding detailing, for the story to flow better, and he's scaled Salaar up to seem grander than life. It's evident that he has put more care into explaining every facet of the story, so that there's no plot holes, and been able to use Ugramm as a stepping stone to make Salaar that much better.

The major differences include showing us Varadha and Deva's childhood, and taking out all of Deva & Aadhya's relationship development, along with giving many of Nithya & Agastya's parallels to Varadeva, which suggests a different ending for Salaar: Shouryaanga Parvam, than that of Ugramm.

[shmaptainwrites]

What if the reader is House childhood bestfriend? They kind of split up because she wanted to be a lawyer and moved out of town to achived it. Now she is hired at Princeton Plainsdoro. Wilson meet her for the first time in the elevator and help her to find her new office (which is next to his). They often meet and they both begin to like eachother. Wilson take the reader to the cafeteria for lunch and they meet House. He is angry because no one has told him that the reader was here (Wilson as well) and the reader hadn't spoke to him since the split up. Wilson wants to stay with her but House can't stand her anymore so Wilson has to choose between them.

heyy! again using this as a reward for doing my homework LOL

Okay this is really interesting because being childhood friends with House adds another dynamic. For this to work I assume you'd also have a parent in the military that worked pretty closely with House's dad and so you were like a constant friend for each other despite needing to move around all over the world

So after the one constant in House's life is gone, and we know he doesn't like change too much, he becomes bitter towards you and even though you would write to him or try to call him to keep in touch he cut you off

Then we fast forward to the present where you begin working in the legal department for a hospital and you meet this very sweet and cute doctor who offers to show you around after you look a little lost and need some help carrying your boxes to your office. You immediately hit it off and are more than happy to hear his office is next to yours which ends up translating into lots of visits from him until he eventually asks you out on a date which you accept

Surprisingly, being so zoned in on your work and spending lots of time with Wilson and being mostly in your own office you don't even know House is also working there let alone is best friends with your new boyfriend so when you finally all cross paths in the cafeteria it's a big moment of realization for all three of you, making the connections between the relationships

House is frustrated even though you all literally didn't know of the connections between each other and he makes a bit of a scene, proclaiming to Wilson that he shouldn't date you and is more than happy to use embarassing childhood and teenage aneccdotes to get what he wants

You stand up and leave because you refuse to be battered by him when all you did was leave to pursue your dreams. Wilson is upset and tells House he's being unresonable, but I think as we've seen before when Wilson is caught between two people he forces them to deal with whatever issues they have because it would be unfair to both of them and himself for him to pick a side, so I think he'd be really passive and maybe try and enlist some help to get you and House to talk about your problems

In the end I think with time House probably comes to tolerate you again maybe even despite not wanting to at first, but it definitely creates an interetsing dynamic between the three of you

send me your RSL character x reader thoughts

→ accepting asks for james wilson, cruise, peter müller

→ i've seen up to 5x6 of house — NO SPOILERS PLEASE

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Montreal

Je t'aime series

F1 driver reader x hockey player bf

When the Montreal GP & Eastern Conference finals fall on the same weekend, certain worlds collide….

The insta edit

Notes: Takes place in 2024 so everyone is a year older - reader is an 01 baby so 23 & all the hockey guys are playing for their respective NHL teams. (For plot purposes, Montreal is the second last race before the summer break - still takes place in mid-June though) Danny, Mick & Seb are still on the grid because I say so & I’m trying not to have a breakdown over Seb being gone gone. 

For Formula 1 driver y/n l/n, this weekend marks her return home as we head to Montreal for the Canadian Grand Prix. We sat down with the championship leader to talk about what that means for her.

Thanks so much for talking to us today Y/n. How excited are you to be back home in Montreal? 

I’m pretty pumped. It’s always nice to be back and have so much of my family be able to come. The track is always a special one to race on & I’ve had a few good races here before, so hopefully this weekend will add to that. The little break after means I can spend a few days here before heading into Silverstone so that’s nice. 

Any exciting plans for those few days?

Definitely catch a hockey game! It’s hard to watch games live with the travelling & living in Monaco, so while I’m here I’m definitely going to get to the Bell Centre. It worked out really well that the Habs are playing on Sunday night & it’s such an exciting game, with it being Game 7 in the conference finals. Montreal fans are absolutely incredible so hopefully the boys can bring this one home! The city’s going to be pretty wild on Sunday, and hopefully I can add to the excitement with a win here too!

I never would have known there was a game this weekend. It’s not like there’s stuff all over the city. Hopefully they can win it at home! Actually, speaking of hockey, your dad played, correct?

Yeah, so he played pro in the US and then Switzerland and Germany. So, I spent about 8 years over there before moving back here permanently, and then when I was about 14, moved back over for racing. but Montreal is definitely home. 

Did you ever consider hockey or were you always set on the formula, single seater series? And how did you settle on motorsport?

So, I played hockey growing up but once I hit 12ish I had to choose since both were getting more competitive and there wasn’t enough time. I would’ve loved to go pro in either, but F1 is where my heart is. I still play whenever I can though. Lance & I like to try finding rinks when we travel and have a little battle. I’m currently 4 wins up, just fyi. Or whenever I visit my best friend, we go out & have some fun, even though that’s not often. I’m not beating him unfortunately but it’s pretty hard to beat a pro when he’s working on his skills constantly and I’m playing maybe 20 times a year. As kids though I could whoop him. The decision for karting/single seater over hockey was hard, but I’d been hooked since I sat in my first kart. I think part of it was being able to travel all over racing & just experience so many cool things. And with Formula 1, there’s 20 spots, right? So, if you make it as a driver, you’re one of the top in the world. With hockey there are so many incredible female players already, and as we know not many in motorsport. I wanted to be able to inspire young girls in sports as well. I think I made the right decision for me. 

 My dad was a big F1 fan, so I’d been watching races basically since birth. We were living in Germany during the Schumacher era, so everyone was really into it and that definitely helped ha-ha. It’s kind of crazy that I ended up going through all the feeder series with Mick in the end & we obviously became good friends when his dad was one of the main reasons I started racing. And having him show up to watch races was insane! But yeah, once I sat in my first kart I was hooked! If three year old me who had that Schumacher Ferrari merch could see me now ha-ha. 

Ah the Schumacher era, that’s how so many people got interested. And your best friend is a hockey player? I don’t know if that’s ever come up, so can I ask about that? 

Ah so actually, our dads played together in Switzerland & bonded over being from Montreal, so once my parents moved to Germany, about two years after I was born, they still visited each other. The two of us spent a lot of time together as kids during those visits, especially playing hockey. We moved back a few years before his family, but they were always around in the summer & we stayed pretty close. We’re apart a lot but were both living our dreams so its pretty special when we can get together. he’s one of my favourite people so shoutout to Thomas. You’ll probably see him in the paddock this weekend since he’s around here somewhere. 

That’s such a great story! What team does he play for, and for anyone who’s maybe looking at which team to support, who would you recommend?

So he plays for San Jose, the Sharks, but I’m a Canadiens girl all the way. You can’t grow up in Montreal and not get support them. We’re having a great season, so fingers crossed for Sunday! But I do support the Sharks, definitely my favourite Western team, no bias here ha-ha. I’ve met a lot of great guys through Thom too who play, so I do try and keep up with their teams, but Habs all the way baby!

Alright, there you have it folks. Y/N thanks for sitting down with us, good luck this weekend! I’m sure we’ll see you soon!

You shake Natalie’s hand & thank her for having you. Exiting the media pen, you start making your way back towards the Ferrari garage, waving at Lewis when an arm’s thrown around you shoulder.

“Ready for Sunday’s game?” Lance says, “Time to kick some Devil ass and then get the cup.” 

“Yeah, I just have a race to win first” you stick your tongue out at him as he punches you in the arm. 

“Your boy toy coming today?” You roll your eyes “yes he has a pass, so he’ll be around somewhere. There’s a bunch of them coming. Not sure when though…”

“YO MCQUEEN!” you hear from down the lane. “There it is” you shrug off Lance & speed up as Thomas comes running at you. Damn he’s quick. You meet in the middle and grab him in a hug. “tu m’as manque” (I’ve missed you) he whispers in your ear, squeezing the life out of you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, mid-January at least. When you were still on break and made it to a game of his where you hung out for a week before heading back across to Italy for training. You talk almost every day though

“Missed you too Bords. It’s been too long. Congrats on your run though. You guys played really well.” It sucked that the Sharks got knocked out in round 2, but they had a good team. Next year they’ll have it. His phone starts ringing and he pulls it out.

“Ah shit, the idiots are lost.’ He rolls his eyes as you laugh.

“They’re at the Ferrari garage. We should probably go before they end up breaking stuff” We start off towards Ferrari, when Lance catches up to us. “Hey man, how’s it going?” The two have met before, when you were all kids in Montreal. They catch up as you walk over, when you notice a bit of a crowd. You nudge Thomas

“Those yours?” and point towards the commotion. You get there & see a few familiar faces. You run over to give Thomas’s sister a hug before turning to the hockey players gathered. You count five, but there may be more floating around. Thomas had 10 passes altogether. 

“Sup boys” you give Brendan, Matty & Owen a hug, then do your handshake with Truss. You visited Michigan a few times when Bordy was there, so you got close with his roommates & friends. You managed to stay pretty off the radar since F1 isn’t as popular in the US, so you got some of that college experience that you missed out on. Plus, he’s brought you to the Hughes Lake house a couple of times so you got to know a bunch of the other idiots there. 

“Y/n you traitor!” Lance calls from somewhere behind me. “What did I do?” You yell in indignation as someone spins you around to see Jack Hughes making his way towards you. “Ah Fuck off Lance, we all know he has no chance!” Cheers from people around tells you that there’s quite a few Canadiens fans in the paddock right now.

“Hell yeah they don’t” You see Cole behind him along with Luke Hughes & Phil. 

“Is this everyone?” They nod “okay, come with me. Lance, I’ll see you later.” You lead the crew of hockey players into the Ferrari garage, taking them up to the hospitality area. “As nice as it is to see you all, why are all of you here?”

“Osheaga (Music festival – it usually happens in August but for the plot it’s happening in June) was last weekend, so we all just stayed, especially once Bordy told us he could get tickets. And we’re going to the game on Sunday” Briss pipes up. 

“Yeah, I know nothing about F1 But it looks pretty cool so I’m excited” Luke says. You gasp, the blasphemy.

“How much time have we spent together Hughesy, and you still know nothing? I’m wounded” Dramatically you hold your hand to your chest. Your phone starts going off, your timer that your trainer set going off as Charles approaches you. He beckons you since he has the same reminder.

“Alright boys, I’ll see you later, but I’ve got practice. Ask any of the lovely workers here if you need a hand with anything. Peace out” You walk off with Charles, making your way further into the motorhome. Once you get to your driver room you start your usual routine. About 20 minutes in, as soft knock on the door interrupts you “babe? You free?” 

You open the door & pull your boyfriend in. ‘“God, I missed you.” You press your lips to his, savouring the kiss. “ the minute I can I’m taking you out properly. I don’t care where, but we’re going out. Hopefully with something to celebrate” You wrap your arms around him and nod “sounds good. When are you leaving?” “Monday early afternoon” he pouts and he’s so cute you just have to kiss him again.

“Two more weeks then I’m all yours for the summer.”

“Deal. Now get back to it.” He slaps your ass and you continue your usual routine with the occasional commentary from him. He slips out a few minutes before you leave, heading down to the garage for practice. 

Two successful practice sessions later, you’re done for the day. You’re chatting with Charles when Thom finds you. You introduce him around since he hasn’t met many of the boys, just Lance & Mick. The other hockey boys have left but you make your way back to the hotel. As much as you’d love to stay at home, it’s a little further out so you stay at the hotel with the rest of the crew. Once you enter, you spot a crowd exiting the restaurant. Ah, apparently the Devils are staying here.

You whistle, “damn, who let some losers in?” As others laugh. Jack flips you off, but someone else comes running over

“y/n/n!!” Nico hugs you. You knew each other as kids, his dad being involved for the team yours had played for. Whenever your family would visit the Bordeleau’s, you’d see him. You & T would bug him lots since there weren’t many kids to hang around with. “Can you introduce me to Sebastian Vettel?” He whispers in your ear. “Get out of here” you push him away. 

The rest of the team us standing there, mouths open. “Sup McQueen” Luke waves. You’re going to kill Thomas for that nickname, but you wave back before dragging Thomas towards the elevator. You’ve got catching up to do & he knows that tomorrow you’ll be in race mode & not want any distractions.

“Where are the rest of the boys staying?” You ask him. Obviously, Jack & Luke with the team here, but he tells you that the rest of them managed to get 2 rooms in this hotel, so they’re close by. “My parents offered to let us stay with them, but we’ve been pretty rowdy so I thought this would be better.” 

A few hours later you need to get ready & go to bed so you’re in top form for quali tomorrow, so Thomas heads to the room he’s sharing, wishing you luck beforehand. He knows that tomorrow you won’t want to see anyone until after qualifiers. You’re almost done your routine when Ring. A soft smile takes over you face. He always calls before he goes to bed, just to say good night. You do same & most of the time you miss each other so you have lots of cute voicemails saved on your phone. 

“Hey superstar. This whole being in the same time zone thing makes it a little bit easier hey?” He chuckles “yeah babe, it definitely does. Hang on” you hear some shuffling on his end and then a door open. “Roommates kick you out?” you laugh as he huffs, “I don’t want to disturb them so I’m going to the conference room so I can facetime. How are you feeling for tomorrow?” The request pops up & you see him sitting in one of the rooms. 

“Pretty confident. It’s a good car & it’s nice that everyone was able to come so I’d love to get a win for them. Think you’ll be able to sneak out tomorrow night?”

“Are you sure? I know how much you need your routine. I don’t want to mess anything up for you.”

“No, I want cuddles” you pout “and you know I sleep better when I’m next to you” you can hear the smile in his voice as he says “I’ll see what I can do. Now you’ve gotta go to bed so you can kick butt tomorrow. I love you & I’ll be watching.” He blows a kiss. “Love you too. Tomorrow night, okay?”

“Yep, I’m all yours. Ill text you before you go out tomorrow since I know I’m not going to see you. But you’re gonna kill it.” You lay down on the bed and just look at him.

“God you’re cute. I still can’t believe you’re mine.” He blushes, like he always does when you complement him.

“You better believe it. nearly four years in and I’m never letting you go.” Damn it now you’re blushing. “Okay Casanova, I really should go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you” you blow a kiss & hang up because you know from experience that you’ll just go back and forth for the next hour otherwise. 

Saturday

You wake up fired up & ready to go. Moving quickly, you and Charles meet up & drive to the circuit. There’s a lot more people here today which you love. You go through practice & then it’s time for qualifiers. Q1 & 2 go smoothly, with you landing in the top five, but you want that pole position. It’s so much sweeter especially with this being your home race. As Q3 gets underway, that’s what you’re aiming for. Unfortunately, it’s only P2, but at least its only Charles in front. You know you can get ahead of him with the right strategy.

Meeting up with Thom & the crew at the hotel, you grab a quick dinner in the restaurant. You stop by the front desk & grab an extra key, slipping it onto your boyfriend’s pocket when you’re giving all the guys hugs. After about an hour you have to excuse yourself for a team meeting, and 2 hours later you finally make it back to your room.

You’ve just closed the door & are turning around when “BOO!” & you jump a foot in the air. 

“Putain! Jesus Christ you fucker.” Your heart is racing a million miles as you take in the sight before you. Jack has half his body still in the bathroom but has fully on the floor, just about crying from laughter. “That’s not why I gave you the key, connard.” You say as you help him up. “I ha-ha couldn’t ha help myself.” He dissolves into another fit of giggles. You move towards the bed as he comes up behind you. Arms around your waist as he buries his head in your neck. 

“This is harder than I thought” “I know, let’s just get through this weekend. A couple weeks then well be back at the lake with everyone who knows & we can do this every night.” He places a kiss at the junction of your neck.

“Promise?” you turn your head and give him a kiss. “Promise. Well talk about next season too. I’m sick of not seeing you for months.” He nods.

“you’re coming to the game tomorrow, right?” “Do you even have to ask?”

“Okay smartass, but will you root for me?” He sounds a bit sad as I turn in his arms. “I want you to win, I really do.”

“Oh yeah, not your precious Habs?”

“Wow. The sarcasm is strong with this one. I want both of you to win, but since that’s not possible, I’d say I have a slight interest in Jersey winning the cup.” “Only slight, eh?” he tickles my sides.

“I know how hard you’ve worked so yeah. As much as it pains me to say, and if you tell anyone else, I’ll kill you, but I do hope you win. If only so we both get one this weekend.” 

You kiss him again before pulling him into the bathroom & running the bath. It’s your regular night before race routine, made much sweeter by him being there. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but Thomas was my favourite person that summer.” He mumbles into your hair as you sit in the tub. 

“The one we met?” “Yeah, when he brought you to the lake house for a few weeks.”

Now your confused. You tilt your head back & raise an eyebrow “when you barely said four sentences to me?” he grins sheepishly.

“I was intimidated. You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen & you drove fast cars for a living. It took me a whole year to gain the confidence to ask you out the next summer. And then you didn’t even show up with him! I was this close to asking for your number when you turned up a week later.”

“Aw, well I’m glad you manned up.” He sticks his tongue out. “I can’t believe that was five years ago. We were babies”

“Yep and now you’re stuck with me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way”. 

(They meet when they’re 18, but he doesn’t ask her out till 19 & now they’re 23) 

You both get out & go about your night routine with some additional commentary from Jack. When you finally settle into bed, he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you to his chest.

“je t’aime” He whispers and a smile creeps onto your face like it does every time he uses his limited French. “je t’aime aussi.” You whisper back as you snuggle back into him.  

Sunday Morning. 

You wake to a kiss pressed on your cheek. “I’ve got to get back to my room before the team meeting. I won’t see you before the game but go kick some ass. I love you & we’ll be celebrating tonight” Jack whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to your lips and leaving. About a half hour later your alarm goes off & you start your pre-race routine.  Thomas stops by to wish you luck before you head to the track with Charles & your trainer. Ten minutes before you need to head to the garage your phone pings. It’s a picture of Jack & Luke with the caption ‘good luck!!!’ 

You smile before heading out to get into your gear. Soon it’s time to line up on the grid & you hop in. 

You settle in, ready to go as the countdown starts & the lights go. 

“It’s lights out & away we go here in beautiful Montreal!”

59 laps in you sneak past Charles, an early stop strategy paying off in your favour as ten laps later you take the win. After pulling your car in behind the first-place stand, you jump out & soak in the noise. Cheers from fans and your team ring out, as you spot one person in particular.

Hopping off the car, you run over to the barriers and grab Thomas in a hug. It’s the first F1 race you’ve won with him there, so you know he’s excited. After letting him go you hug your engineers & team before being pulled into a quick interview with Natalie. 

“Y/n, that was a beauty of a win, how are you feeling? What’s it like to win it at home?”

“Oh my god, amazing! Winning any day is an incredible feeling but to do it here, in front of my city, friends & family is so much sweeter!” 

“Anything to say to the fans here today? Or for anyone watching?”

“Mom, I did it!! You told me I’d win here one day & here we are. To my team at Ferrari, Merci! Superstar, merci d’etre ici ce weekend. Votre soutien signifie la monde et je t’aime. Montreal, ca c’est pour vous, et ALLEZ LES CANADIENS!” 

Cheers go up from all around as you just take it in. 

After the podium ceremony, you make your way back to the hotel to change since you’re soaked in champagne. Opening the door to you room, you spot a box at the end of the bed & a bouquet of lilies on the bedside table. You smile as you make your way over & see a note on the box 

Knew you could do it babe! Here’s a little something that I hope you wear tonight. See you on the ice ;)  xxx J

“I swear, if he put a Devils jersey in here..” you trail off as you see just that, but also a gorgeous lingerie set in the same bright red underneath. “that cheeky shit”, there’s a pair of new red converse in there too.

Putting the set on, you take a picture before finishing getting dressed & send it off to Jack, making a face. ‘Good Luck babe'. Then you finish getting ready & head down. 

You meet the boys in the lobby & make your way to the Bell Centre. Outside, you meet your mum, who’s brought you one of your old Canadiens jerseys since you didn’t have one on you. You pull it on over the hoodie & make you way in. Someone on the marketing team meets you inside. After your interview aired yesterday when you mentioned going to the game, they contacted your team to ask if you’d like to do the ceremonial puck drop, which duh you would. You split up with the rest of them and follow the guy. You’ll meet up with Bordy & his sister at your seats, but you won’t see the rest of the guys until later. You wait, chatting to various workers as warmups happen and finally its time for you to go out.

Making your way to the tunnel, you hear PK, who’s on the ice

“We have a special guest for you all tonight! She’s back in town, she goes fast and she won today, it’s your favourite race car driver Y/N L/N!!! 

You walk out on the carpet, waving at the crowd. “Well y/n, were glad to have you here to get us going here at the Bell Centre. But first, we have a little present for you. Your very own Canadiens jersey!” He holds up a jersey with my last name & racing number on the back.

“Oh my god that’s so cool. Suck it Lance, you’re not so special anymore!” you know he’s laughing from wherever he is in the arena. You take it & the puck he’s holding out. 

“Let’s get the captains please.” Pk says as Nico & Nick skate towards you and get in position for the photo.

“Nick, kick their ass.” You say to the Canadiens captain before posing and then walking off the ice. Someone shows you to your seat, where you find Thomas & Jade. The energy in the arena is absolutely electric as the anthem singing comes to an end and the crowd cheers. Thomas passes you a beer, as someone taps you on the shoulder. 

“Sorry, but would I be able to get a picture?” a young girl sitting behind you. You oblige & tell her you’ll get a better one during the intermission before sitting back down as the game starts. 

The Canadiens take an early lead with a beauty of a goal scored halfway through the period. The games intense with lots of back and forth between the goals. The Devils manage to knock one in with just a minute to go and then its intermission. You send Thomas off for snacks while you take a few photos & sign some stuff and before you know it it’s time for period two. No one scores for a while, but there’s quite a few penalties being called as the game gets a little rougher.

The second period ends still tied 1 all. You & Thomas chat about summer while you wait for the third. You’re planning on going to the lake house and you know he’ll be there at some point, but he’s staying here in Montreal for a bit first. You grab a couple more beers before the buzzer sounds and were off for the final period. Canadiens score a minute in, then Jersey gets one.

Back and forth again, shot after shot on each net with no more success. The whole crowds on their feet, cheering & screaming for Montreal as the minutes count down.

“Mon dieux its going to be OT” you whisper as the final minute hits. The crowds are practically silent as the seconds tick. Ten seconds left and all of a sudden Jack gets the puck, making a breakaway to the Canadiens net.

Go, Go, Go!!! you’re screaming internally as the defense rush after him, but not fast enough. He shoots and it flies past the goalie’s shoulder. The crowd explodes with boos & angry yells, but you’re smiling.

Thomas nudges you “he’ll be happy about that"

“Yeah, he will” you say back, a soft smile on your face as the final buzzer sounds and the Devils all celebrate on the ice. The fans are none too happy but there’s nothing you can do. You take out your phone & text jack.

That was amazing superstar!! I’m so so proud of you. I’m going out with the boys, but I’ll see you later<3 text me whenever you guys are done if I’m not back. 

“let’s get out of here” you turn to Thomas, knowing that Jack’ll be caught up for a few hours with team celebrations & media stuff. “Mick texted a while ago, a couple of them are downtown so let’s go celebrate your win” he says.

A pit stop back at the hotel to drop off jerseys & make sure you have all the boys then you’re making your way downtown to one of your favourite clubs. The drinks are flowing, drivers & hockey players are all around and lots of dancing means that a few hours pass in the blink of an eye.

About 3 hours in, you check your phone and see a message from Jack.

Got about 20 minutes left then I’m heading back. I’ll be in your room. See you in a bit xx

Looking around, you spot Thomas & Charles and make your way towards them. They’re chattering in French, but you butt in.

“Hey boys, I’m heading out in 10” Turns out most people are pretty done for the night, & you end up having a big group heading back. You all grab a couple of cabs back, and as you make your way through the lobby, you spot a piano in the corner.

“Ooh!!” say, making your way over to it & sitting down. “Is it okay if I play?” you ask one of the workers who nods. The boys follow you and stand next to the piano, staring at you. Except for Thomas. He knows that you can’t play for shit, all those lessons you took as a child being absolutely useless, so he’s laughing.

You crack your fingers and start playing la vie en rose absolutely terribly. The boys laugh as you stand up & bow. “Merci, merci! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a sexy man waiting for me” you wink before heading to the elevator & making your way to the room. He’s not there you, so you get undressed so he can see the gift he left for you. 

The door opens a few minutes later. “Hey champ” you drawl as he comes into view.

“oh, fuck me” “I plan to” you respond jokingly. He pulls off his shoes & shirt before jumping into the bed next to you. 

“You did it,” the smile on his face is absolutely massive “I did it. We’re going to the finals. Holy fuck” 

The two of you lay there, lazily making out & cuddling until you fall asleep, too worn out for more. The next morning brings sad goodbyes with promises of more in a few weeks time. 

F1 GOSSIP

Alright folks, we all know that Y/n L/n has been romantically linked to former F2 teammate Mick, who she sort of grew up with, and Charles Leclerc, her current teammate, for a while now. The Mick theory is more likely, as we’ve seen. I’ll show the evidence that has been collected here. But this weekend, a new player entered. Thomas Bordeleau, another childhood friend of Y/n & a pro hockey player, was in and around the paddock. Now we didn’t really know about this connection until an interview that y/n herself did on Friday, where she called him ‘one of her favourite people’. Apparently, we weren’t looking hard enough. Obviously, we had to do some digging, and the team here are starting to think that he may be the real deal when it comes to y/n’s heart. Let’s break it down.

Childhood friends – we found some photos from y/n’s early karting days, both in Europe and Canada. Know who makes an appearance in a few of them? Thomas. Now there aren’t too many pictures of them as teenagers, as it appears he lived in the US & obviously y/n had moved back to Europe for racing. However, we were able to find this picture, of Y/n at a hockey game with one of his jerseys on. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. Thomas attended the University of Michigan and based on a video out of the paddock Friday, y/n knows a few of his college teammates. So, we did some more digging and found that y/n visited Michigan no less than six times over the 2 years he was there. And if that’s not convincing, take a look at these photos we dug up. Tell me that the way the two of them are looking at each other doesn’t scream in love (Photos of the two at various different parties looking cozy). Flirty comments left on posts, photos from friends that show the two cuddling or laying on top of each other, years of appearances in the back of each other’s photos, and a few references to a boyfriend in y/ns comments by close friends. All of these point towards the two of them being together, but the most damming evidence came out of Montreal. Lance Stroll was overheard asking y/n about her ‘boy toy coming’ mere seconds before Bordeleau made his appearance.

On Sunday, Y/n fought her way to a first place, and once she exited the car ran over to him at the barriers, practically flinging herself at him for a hug. Not two minutes later, when talking to a reporter she was saying thank you to the fans, and let this slip in French “superstar, thanks for being here this weekend. It means the world to me & I love you so much.” Now who speaks French & was there this weekend? Her best friend.

But that’s not all!! They made their way to the Montreal Canadiens game on Sunday night, where they lost in the final seconds. Several other players who appear to be friends of Bordeleaus & some of the guys who were playing in the game attended, however they watched from one of the boxes. y/n and Thomas, on the other hand, were smack dab in the centre of the action, accompanied only by his sister. Photos from the official sports accounts & fans were all over social media showing the two very close, joking around & cheering passionately for their home team. They were then seen out partying in the city with some of the other drivers and hockey players. I don’t know about all of you, but I’m pretty convinced. This isn’t what we were expecting, but it actually seems the most plausible. What are your thoughts?

 

Xx

[invisibleraven]

confessing feelings when you think the other is asleep, peterpatterlina

Apparently tumblr posted this half way through writing, so please make sure you read the one with tags to get the full story!

"Thanks again for letting me stay guys," Luke said as he set his bag down on the bed.

"You know it's never a problem dude," Reggie replied. "It wasn't like we were let you live out on the streets while they fumigate your building."

"Let either of us know if you want anything," Julie offered. "Supper's in twenty, so get settled and we can eat."

Luke shot them a thumbs up but sighed as the door closed. It's not that he didn't appreciate Reg and Jules putting him up, but given his notebooks was full of half-finished songs about how deeply in love with them he was, he could have gone for another option.

Unforetunately, Alex and Willie were out of town, his relationship with his folks was still testy even though the band had a signed contract and the first album almost done. Flynn was in the middle of finals, and Carrie was doing a phone free weekend with her dad.

That left Luke with little recourse but to stay with his two crushes.

It was only for the weekend-he had survived longer on the tour bus with them. But on the tour buss they had gotten sick of each other, so it was acceptable to retreat for as much alone time as they could. Here he couldn't use that excuse.

Hell he could probably tell them how he felt-it probably wouldn't go horribly. But it would be awkward for a time as they tried not to lead him on and he tried to get over these feelings, like he hadn't been trying to do just that practically since they got together.

He had always found both Reggie and Julie attractive-who wouldn't? He knew he could easily fall in love with them, but figured friendship was more important. But they had gotten together in senior year, and Luke suddenly realized that he wanted to be a part of them. It had hit him like a flash of lightning, and the feeling hadn't faded.

He didn't think they suspected-they still acted the same towards him-as tactile and kind as ever. But every touch, every smile, every note they sang captured his heart even more.

He refused to say it though-he couldn't bear to lose anyone else that loved him after the rejection from his folks. He would suffer through until he died if needed just to keep even the platonic love they offered him over nothing at all.

Dinner was lovely-Julie had a talent for cooking-and the three of them always had something to talk about, laugh over, or turn into a song.

Julie and Reggie turned in early-they were planning on visiting Ray and Carlos the next day and had volunteered to make breakfast.

"You stay up as long as you want though," Julie encouraged him. "Sleep in tomorrow, raid the fridge and whatever. We'll probably be back before supper."

"You want me to cook?" aksed Luke.

"You mean order a pizza?" Reggie chuckled. "Sure thing."

Luke scowled a little, but then had to laugh himself-he was a notoriously bad cook, and he knew it. He was a decent baker, but he had to be in the mood to whip up a batch of his famous brownies.

The two of them went up, but Luke kept himself busy for a bit-rifling through the books, but not finding anything he wanted to read, channel surfing but only finding talk shows, and eventually he headed upstairs himself, content to strum on his guitar a while.

He was working on a song-yet another about how he felt about his friends, and this one was close to being done. The rest were half finished dreams and semi-formed sentences that cluttered up his pages. This one though...

He tuned up his six string, and began to strum, finding the right chord progression, playing the opening, and then let the words ring out.

My heart is all but ripped in two Half for him, and the other for you I couldn't choose but I never could Couldn't love the way they say I should

Maybe it's greedy to love you both But I can swear here, under oath That you've captured me heart and soul Need the two of you to feel whole

Love is love is love so they say Couldn't have it any other way Three may be a lot for all but few But I know I won't be complete without you two.

Luke stopped there, smiling at what he had so far.

"That's beautiful babe," Reggie said from the doorway.

"Where's the rest?" Julie asked, wrapped around Reggie.

"I-it's not done yet," Luke admitted. "How much did you hear? I thought you were asleep."

"Kinda hard to sleep when you're being serenaded," Reggie said with a chuckle. "Worth missing the sleep."

"Who's it for?" Julie teased.

"You know," Luke said, blushing hard.

"Well I have to say we feel the same," Reggie said, sitting on one side of Luke, Julie the other.

"And we'd be honoured to help you finish the song so it has a happy ending," Julie said, squeezing his hand.

"We always do write better together," Luke admitted. "Are you sure though?"

The kisses he got in response were answer enough, and the song ended up being their first hit. And by the time it had gone triple platinum a few years later, Luke had his own spot in their home-with Reggie and Julie on either side of him, the three of them singing their children to sleep with the song that had brought them together.

[kka1lyns]

“Is Our Love Worth the War?”

intro

— Chapter 1

☁︎☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆  𓅓

It was midday, the sun shining through the pillars of Annabeth’s chamber. Her scrolls were opened, held in one hand, her quill in the other, ink dripping onto her fingers. She always found peace in studying, until she was interrupted by her brother, Malcom. He whined and groaned for Annabeth to quit studying and spend some time with him, but to no avail.

"Oh c'mon, Annie! You must have something better to do! You've been staring at that thing all day! Just do something fun for once!”

“Can’t you see I’m studying? I just need peace and quiet from all the things happening right now…”

“Suit yourself, Annie, I’m going outside. Its pretty much useless to argue with you.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like—“ 

SLAM! He shut the door, making a pretty loud bang. He didn’t look upset, he didn’t sound upset, but judging how hard the door was shut, he was pretty upset. It would go away eventually though, I hope…

After studying for a bit more, reading my scrolls about poems, inventions, history and the likes, I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!” I shouted. ‘Very un lady-like, Annabeth.’ My mother would have scolded me by now, I can tell.

Piper then walked in the room, she was the Daughter of Aphrodite, my best friend, cousin, duchess of Olympia, and fianceé of Jason Grace, 2nd in line to the throne of  Olympia.

“Hi Piper… I feel like you wanna tell me something…?”

“Well… yeah…! Theres princes coming over from basically all the kingdoms y’know, and since you’re gonna get married, you have to look for a-“

“I’m not marrying, Piper.”

“WHAT!? But what about the rules? You can’t possibly-“

“I know about the rules, but I don’t wanna be pressured into things like… this… I may rule Athens soon, but I wanna rule on my own… I mean— look at mother! She rules alone, dad left her… and well…— That just proves my point!”

“But still… What would your mom feel? I mean… there are some pretty cute princes my mom could set you up with—“

“I don’t think I’ll need your mom’s help for this, Piper… Besides, all the guys I know either look bad, act bad, or both. There’s no point in looking for someone.”

“Suit yourself, she’s the love expert.”

“But enough of that… congrats on being Jason’s fianceé.”

Piper was getting married to Jason in a few months. Pretty overwhelming, concidering the fact he was 2nd in line to the throne of Olympia and she was just a duchess. A pretty high rank amongst royals, but still… pretty overwhelming…

“Thanks… I’m honestly glad both Zeus and Hera like me… if they didn’t… I don’t know what I’d do… theres so many expectations too…”

I pat her shoulder lightly “I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pipes…”

Someone then knocked on my door, it was ome of our servants. She opened the door, calling me. “Princess, your mother wishes to see you.” This could never be good… It never is…
 
☁︎☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆  𓅓

I opened the door to my mother’s study, seeing her on her chair, both her hands resting on the table. “Go on, sit. I need to talk to you.” She says sternly. I was never really close with my mom, over the years, we slowly drifted apart due to my duties as a princess and hers as a queen. 

“What is it that you need to tell me, mother?

“You do know princes are coming here in five days to visit you, right?” I already knew where this was going. “You’re going to have to marry soon, Annabeth. A prince of high status.”

“I don’t want to marry, mother. You know that.”

“But what about the rules, Annabeth? You can’t disobey the law. The own laws you swore to follow.”

“But you didn’t follow them either, you never-“

“Silence, Annabeth. You will marry, and that’s final. You shall choose a prince by the end of this week, and it has to be a prince. If it is some low status boy, you know my answer. I won’t have a princess marry a commoner.”

stopp oh my gods 🥹🥹 i don’t post my works online like this at all so this is basically my first work posted 😓😓 i hope ygs think its good tho 💗💗 mwamwamwa

[nerves-nebula]

Nigerian living in Nigeria here and I really really don't think you should come over. We are currently in a very very anti trans and anti lgbtq period. If anybody were to find out you were trans you'll be super unsafe. I know this advice is unsolicited and you didn't particularly say you were coming here but as a queer trans person who's unable to transition and is currently stuck in this country, I feel increasingly unsafe and things are getting worse.

If you were to come, you probably would have to make sure you pass as a woman really really well and have backup plans to leave the country quick if you were found out.

I've noticed ppl have started to pay more attention to how I dress and noticing me binding my chest and dressing masculine, no one paid that much attention to that a few years ago but now ppl can't seem to shut the fuck up about it

We have a thriving queer community here, we are small yes but we know how to find each other. The problem is they are no laws to protect us and the average person thinks we are devil worshippers. Ppl who get caught by the police have to bribe their way out of prison and it isn't even the police you have to worry about, it's the ppl around you.

The beard thing can be passed of as genetics if it isn't a full one, we have a lot of women with facial hair, but if you give of any hint that you aren't cis you'll be in trouble.

And it also depends on the area you would be visiting too. Gated communities tend to mind their business and it easier to be a moderately rich queer person than a poor one. The rich can choose where they can go and who they can interact with while poorer queer ppl have to interact with ppl who are more likely to hurt them

If you're sure you can pass as a cis woman then come if you can't and you don't have any support systems that would protect your best interest in the country then I advice you stay in America. Nigerians barely ever protest(at least ppl outside unions) yet average ppl were protesting the legalisation of gay ppl just this year

The climate here is complicated, we have very popular trans and queer influencers that have millions of followers but it isn't that hard to find a video of a transwoman getting beat up. If you're rich with parents that'll turn the other way you're must likely good if not sorry for you 🤷🏿

If you do think you'll be able to manage I don't mind helping in any way I can

thanks for giving me the general vibe, it's definitely something i was wondering about so i genuinely appreciate it. i think i can still pass for a woman (one with a slightly deep voice but tbh it's no that deep. I've still got breasts and everything so at most they'll think I'm like. a masculine looking cis woman, idk)

I dont have like a full BEARD beard i think i'd have to shave what i do have cuz my sister, who has already visited with my dad, says i prolly got too much facial hair to pass it off as genetics.

the issue i'm worried about is my dad telling people i'm trans. i don't even know if he knows that i'm transgender or what, but he knows i'm on testosterone.

I wouldn't come over if I didn't think I was safe. and that's the issue that i'm grappling with cuz I'm not entirely sure what my dad will say/do. i don't think he'll beat me or anything since he hasn't done that with his other, way more volatile and argumentative children. that's like, not a fear i have about him. but i'm not sure if he'll tell the people around us about me or endanger me in some way.

my inclination is to say no, but he and my mom have done equally awful stuff when i thought "surely they wouldn't do that" so I'm not sure. I don't think my dad is rich, but i don't know exactly. he has a lot of connections and has worked in the government and when my oldest sister visited, she said he had armed guards that escorted them everywhere. so that's probably a good sign? but that was a few years ago.

i wouldn't go by my real name or pronouns there, that's for damn sure, but I'm worried I'd forget the little things about me that show I'm trans. for example, my favorite jacket has a trans flag painted on it and my backpack has a pronoun pin. those are easy to side step obviously, just remove the pin and don't bring the jacket- but I'm worried about little things like that slipping through the cracks because i'm not used to hiding them.

[oliveranimated]

A vent bc I'm resenting my brothers, feel bad and need to get this out.

Posting this here bc reddit's being a bitch.

I (F16) have 4 siblings, 3 of them being younger brothers and an older sister. It crosses my mind on a daily what life would be like without the youngest two (6 and 3). I don't hold much ill will towards the older younger brother, R (12), just the occasional squabble n stuff as siblings do. But the youngest two I've grown a resentment towards. I was fine as a middle child for the most part and content with my older sister and R, but once the other two came into the picture I've felt burnt out constantly. The 6 year old was born in 2017 when I was in 5th grade by my dad and step mom, who I didn't and still don't live with. This stressed me out a little and I was failing some of my classes, but I brought it up only for it to decline again a little when my great grandma died in 2018. When my brother was born (I'll call him B.), I was happy for my dad and stepmom and had no ill will towards him. I didn't see him often though, as in, the 6 years he was alive, I've seen him for less than a full year's worth of visits. My mom didn't like my stepmom so we couldn't visit much since my dad was working a lot out of state, so we only visited when he was home. After a while, we found out B. was autistic. Now don't get me wrong, I hold no resentment towards autistic people whatsoever, but between me not forming a proper relationship with him from the jump, me not being good with kids, and him being autistic and not developing as we'd expected clashed with me. I've gone sleepless nights at their house when I was supposed to be relaxing and getting away from home life, just because he comes in and turns on the lights constantly, is loud, and constantly takes off his diaper. This agitates me because I'm a light sleeper and it takes me forever to go back to sleep once I'm awake. On car rides I try to stay away from him but on days where it's inevitable, he touches my hair and face and just me in general constantly, and his hands are always covered in chip crumbs as he makes a mess in the car, and I only like touch from a select few people. The amount of times I've had to give up certain things because of his sensory issues drive me up a wall. I can't choose where I want to go for my birthday because it has to be friendly to B's sensory issues, and if I wasn't constantly giving up my childhood for my siblings I'd be fine. But on my birthday where I finally get to have attention on me, I can't even choose where I get to go, and there's already not a lot to do around here where we live.

[arielhopepeace]

This is a Javier Peña and Harry Styles (again lol) short story for all my fellow Pedro Pascal lovers 💕 This one isn’t gonna be as sweet as the Joel one. Y/N’s life kinda sucks lmfao. I will be posting the trigger warnings since some of the content is sensitive! This was a story suggestion by my best friend who doesn’t have a tumblr otherwise I’d tag her lol. BUT I will be coming out with another Joel story after this one so, feel free to follow me if you’d like to read that when it comes out!

As always, enjoy ❤️

Part two is here

Part three is here

Final part is here

Part One

18+ only

Tw: prostitution, abusive father, mention of drugs, mention of death, extreme violence, guns, murder, abuse in general, mention of sexual assault, implied smut (there’s gonna be a lot of this, she’s a prostitute 😬)

I’d also like to quickly say that I’ll never ever write sexual assault into my stories. It’s just a topic that is too sensitive for me, and for many others out there. There are mentions of it because men are sick and twisted in this world, but I will never describe it happening, or have it happen to y/n. Just a heads up on that ❤️ Anyway, onto the story to escape reality…

4,200 words

There's nothing that I love more than the scenery of Columbia; the beaches, mountains, forests. For the last few months that I've lived here with my father, I've always felt melancholy about the fact that I wasn't born in this beautiful country.

The move was a necessary change in order for my dad to be more successful with his business ventures. I despise the man, but he's filthy rich due to running with the narcos of Medellin. Of course he's never given me anything from his wealth, and instead has pawned me off to be a prostitute for extra income.

I tried my best to fight him on it, but to no avail. You can't argue with a powerful, dangerous man like him. All it does is get me badly beaten. He doesn't like to hit me often since it's bad for business, as he likes to say. Men don't generally like to sleep with women who are all battered and bruised. They think I'll carry some sort of emotional baggage and try to cling to them for security.

Truthfully, I'm very numb to all of it; the beatings, the sex, the disgusting clients, everything. There's no point in me feeling bad for myself. After all, I'm still the daughter of an important drug dealer who works for the drug dealer of Colombia, Pablo Escobar. Nobody would dare to hurt me, since it could possibly end up with them "disappearing". I don't think my father would ever kill someone for my sake, though. But I know he has for his.

It's been a difficult transition since I know hardly any Spanish, and that is the only language anyone speaks here. There's been countless encounters where I've been left feeling imbecilic and witless. My father never bothered to teach me the language, but hired his own personal tutor in order to better conduct business. This way, nobody will be able to talk about anything right in front of his face without him being able to understand. He never wants to be made a fool of.

The house my father lives in is incredibly opulent and pristine. It's just outside of Medellin, sitting on an emerald hill overlooking a vast crystal blue lake that shines brilliantly in the sun. Anytime I'm there for a visit, it makes me wish I lived in that damned mansion. Instead, I have to live in a shitty apartment in the more run-down side of town.

My place is close to one of the whorehouses where I like to sometimes find clients. Usually, I'll dress nicely with a provocative touch and head to a bar, fishing for men whose eyes linger on my breasts. The proposition I set is only said with my body, and once the man understands that I can't speak Spanish, not much else needs to be said, anyway. I'll say my price before we leave, choosing a number I'm comfortable with charging and pronouncing.

I have yet to find someone who refuses to pay, or is unnecessarily rough. It's a relief, because that was one of my biggest concerns going into this. My dad doesn't think that my job has any danger, but he also couldn't give two shits about me, it seems.

There's a slight sense of giddy elation that courses through me, knowing that I'm able to take the day to myself. All I want to do is go to the clinic to do my weekly health check, and then to my father's lakeside house to bask in the sun while he's away for a while today.

He always has to be made aware of my company, just in case he were conducting business and I startled one of his ruthless peers. They all know what I look like, and a few have even solicited sex from me before, but I'd rather be cautious about it than get shot for showing up unannounced.

Once the clinic gives me yet another clean bill of health, I go on my way to my dad's mansion. The warm air whips my hair around the car from the open windows, allowing me to breathe in the crisp feeling of summer. It trails goosebumps of satisfaction along my skin, a smile splitting my face as I giggle lightly to myself.

There aren't many moments when I'm truly happy, but being alone on the drive to my dad's is definitely one of them.

  To my dismay, my father is home, his smooth, lavish car parked at the top of his gated cobblestone driveway. He was supposed to be out all day, but I'm sure he'll explain why he's here so early.

I step out of my run-down sedan, closing the creaking, rusted door shut with a slight slam. My breathing is a bit more shaky as I approach the front door, not really wanting to face my dad today. He knew I was coming, though, so he shouldn't be mad, right?

The living room is relatively quiet as I enter, being greeted by one of the maids in the foyer.

"Dad?" I call out, hoping he doesn't answer me.

His raised voice echoes through the halls, my high heels taking me clicking down the marbled pathway, the walls are so tall it feels like they could swallow me whole at any moment. There's some profane Spanish coming from my dad's office, and I inwardly kick myself as I push the ajar door to it open slowly, not knowing if he's going to scream at me for this.

He has his front turned towards the countless amount of books that he never touches, an obvious strain in his irate tone. The large, gray mobile phone is pressed to his ear, the antennae shining silver above his head by several inches.

My eyes widen as he turns to me, my body immediately cowering in fear as he takes in my presence. He ends the call, gripping the phone so tightly in his fist, I'm worried he'll crack it.

"Hey, y/n," he says quickly. "What have I said about being in here when I'm on calls?"

"I'm sorry," I stammer. "I just wanted you to know that I was here. I'm sorry," I apologize again. All I ever do is apologize to this man when really I want to punch him.

He holds up a large, murderous hand, shaking it side to side. "It's fine," he snaps. "You do what you have to, I don't care. Just leave me be. Got it?"

Without his eyes meeting mine for even a second, I nod, scurrying down the halls as fast as I can without breaking an ankle in my heels. I'm once again greeted by the warmth of the air and sun, surprisingly able to breathe better out here than I was inside.

"You're here," a British voice says beside me.

My head turns to see the charming, dashing Harry, my father's right hand man. "Oh, hi, Harry." I spot the gun sticking out of his belt, making me swallow hard.

He stuffs his ring-clad fingers into his powder blue suit pockets, a small smile settled onto his pink lips. "What are you doing here today?"

I point to the lake over the hill. "Gonna sun tan for a while. Need to not look so—gringa."

Harry chuckles lightly. "I think your skin is perfect as it is."

His words make my cheeks feel hot, and I turn my face away briefly. "Thank you."

"How's business? Anybody need correcting, darling?" he asks with a hint on concern.

I've only known Harry for about a month, and he's been nothing but lovely since I met him. He's always had a bit of protectiveness towards me and I'm not sure why. We've done nothing but have conversations with each other, and he worships my father, a man who seemingly can't stand me. Maybe he feels like he needs to protect me just because he's obsessed with my dad. That reminder always turns me off to him, even if his dreamy looks and refreshing accent do the exact opposite.

"No," I shake my head. "Not everybody knows who I am, but those that do are very—respectful."

"If there's ever a time when somebody isn't," he lifts his suit jacket to flash the grip of his pistol, "you'll tell me, yeah?"

"Yes," I nod. "Thank you."

Harry tosses me a dimply grin, his teeth neat and white. "No need to thank me, y/n. You should always be respected."

I go to tell him that I'm respected by everyone except for my father, but I refrain. Do I think Harry would ever hurt me? Probably not. But that one percent of uncertainty is enough for me to keep my mouth shut.

When I'm settled near the lake, I strip off my dress, kicking my heels to the side shortly after. Being laid out in only my matching black bra and thong with the sun licking my skin is more euphoric than any sex I've had in Colombia.

The men haven't really interested me in the slightest. Of course there's been the few attractive ones who have approached me, but even if it feels good, it's not often that I'm pushed past that delicious precipice. I've yet to have a client who cared about my pleasure, but they're not paying for mine. They're paying for theirs and theirs alone.

My eyes are closed as I relax my shoulders into the grass, allowing my body to be consumed by the intense rays. Being here with nothing but the sound of nature puts me so much at ease that I sometimes fall asleep. The birds that sing their songs proudly above are all giving me unique, individual lullabies, and I love every single one.

The distant sound of shouting makes me sit up, looking up towards the house for any indication on what could be happening. I abandon my dress and heels, my pulse immediately rising from the anticipation of what is unfolding at the top of the hill.

My body freezes as I see several men on their knees in front of my father with Harry standing beside him. He has his pistol tucked underneath both of his hands that are crossed over his front. My dad has his large pistol pointed at one of the men's heads.

Even if I spoke Spanish, there's no way I'd be able to tell what they're saying. They're too far away. I do my best to stay out of sight as I move in closer, creeping behind a shrub that lines the pool, giving it a green privacy gate.

I jump involuntarily at the sound of a single bullet being emptied from the chamber, one of the men falling back into a puddle of his own blood and brain matter.

My sweaty palm flings to my mouth, tears unable to escape from the shock I feel in my body. Of course I know that my father kills people, but I've never actually seen him do it.

He presses the barrel to the next man's forehead who is speaking with a trembling voice to my cold-faced dad. It's eerie how he has no empathy or emotion, only wrath and strategy. I've been convinced that he's a psychopath since I was a kid, but now I truly believe it.

There were nights before my mom died that they'd argue, and he'd slap her around like he does to me. It always made me furious, but what the hell is a kid supposed to do in that situation? The only thing I could do was imagine I was somewhere else that was far away, like a tropical island.

But here I reside in a tropical land, not at all living the way I'd imagine when I was a child. This is hell simply being disguised by pretty packaging and a sparkly bow.

The next man falls back after a shot, the third one not even being interrogated before my father shoots him dead, tucking his gun into the back waistband of his pants. A few men begin to get to work moving the bodies as my dad walks away, Harry looking down at them.

He shifts as if he's thinking, his own gun being wedged between his hip and his pants. I fall to my bare knees onto the soft blades of grass, curling up behind the bush as I hold myself tightly, still not having shed a single tear. Why can't I cry for the dead? Am I as psychotic as my father?

As I stand to walk away back towards my things at the bottom of the hill, a voice stops me in my tracks, my body freezing in place as if Medusa herself has turned me to stone.

"Y/n?" Harry comes into my view. "What are you doing up here?"

Panic. The only thing I can do right now is panic.

"Please don't hurt me," my voice wavers. "I'm sorry."

His green eyes soften, his hands stretching out towards me. His palms graze my arms, my eyes squeezing shut from fear. "Hey, I'd never hurt you. Look at me," he says gently.

Reluctantly, my eyes flip up to his, meeting his delicate gaze. "I heard yelling so I came up here. I didn't mean to see anything."

"Shh," he coos calmly. "Let me walk you back down to the lake."

With reluctant, frozen feet, I begin to tread down the hill with Harry's hand gingerly gripping the crease of my arm. I'm not sure why I feel so terrified of him right now. He's obviously killed people before, too, but I'm just the most concerned about him killing me. What if he tells my father that I was snooping? I don't know what he'd do to me.

My dress and heels lay lifeless beside the lake, my eyes fixed on them instead of the tall man beside me.

"Please don't tell my dad," I plead quietly. "I don't know what he'd do to me, Harry."

Harry tilts my chin up, giving me a comforting smile. "I never saw you, darling."

"Who were they?" I ask softly.

"Rats," he answers firmly with a furrowed brow. "They were giving information to the DEA that just got into the country. You know it's serious if America is getting involved."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Will you be caught?"

"Not if we're smart."

"Okay." My arms wrap around my midsection. "Thank you for your discretion."

Harry chuckles, nodding. "I'll always protect you."

My brows furrow. "Even against my father?"

He stands gazing at me for a moment before letting out a small sigh. "It depends on the circumstances."

Fuck, that's disappointing.

"Right," I nod, picking up my dress. "I think I'm gonna head out. I've had enough of the cartel for today."

Harry grazes my face with the side of his finger, the cool metal of his ring electrifying me. "Please know that I want to protect you from everybody, including your dad. It's just in certain situations, my hands would be tied."

"Like if I was a rat?"

He nods. "Exactly. I'd lose my head too if I protected you."

"I'd never do that, though. I know better."

Harry leans in and presses a delicate peck to my cheek. "I know, darling. You're too lovely."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He beams, stroking my hair and tucking it behind my ear. "I like you, y/n. You're fucking beautiful and incredibly bright. I love any time that we talk."

Butterflies settle into the pit of my stomach, making my face turn hot. "And you don't care that I'm a prostitute?"

Harry shakes his head. "You didn't ask to be one in the first place."

I sigh as I sit down beside the lake, looking at the glimmering water. "I begged not to be, but he just—"

Harry rests beside me, tossing his arm around my shoulders. "I know. I'm sorry I can't protect you in those moments, either."

"I'm used to not having protection, Harry. It's fine."

He sighs, gently easing my head to rest on his shoulder as we both gaze at the water. My body relaxes in his embrace, my face turning to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Harry lifts my head up by my chin, quickly and suddenly capturing my lips against his, making me gasp in my throat.

It's not at all that I'm opposed to this, but rather it was extremely unexpected.

"What are you doing?" I ask, his hands on my waist.

He pulls away, his eyes having darkened. "Do you want me to stop?"

With a small smirk I shake my head, pushing my head forward for more of his delectable lips.

We lay on the field naked and breathless, my legs shaky and weak from my orgasm, and my body glistening with sweat just like Harry's. I had no idea that today would turn out like this, but I can't say that I'm disappointed.

I gaze up at him from his tattooed chest, his golden cross necklace buried in his sprinkling of chest hair. He peers down at me, smiling as he pulls me up for another sweet kiss.

"I have to go," he says softly. "He'll be wondering where I went."

"Okay," I answer quietly, sitting up.

Harry slides on his briefs and pants, handing me my things with a gentle grin. "Let me walk you to your car."

Once we're both fully dressed, we make our way up the hill, Harry's hand in mine the whole way. He's being rather romantic about it which is not at all something I'm used to. And he actually made me have an orgasm, another thing that isn't ever achieved for me.

He pulls me in for a swift kiss, his hand at the small of my back as I giggle, my fingers twisting into his soft brown curls.

"Oh," he says quickly as if remembering something. Harry pulls out his wallet and hands me a thousand dollars all splayed out, a bashful smile on his face. "I don't want to take advantage of you, y/n. Please take it."

"That's way too much, Harry. And also, clients don't ever make me orgasm."

He chuckles, pulling me in for another kiss. "Consider me the best client, then."

Reluctantly, I take the money, shaking my head. "This is the most I've ever been paid for one session."

"God, I'd give you more if you wouldn't make fun of me."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You're sweet. You didn't have to pay me."

He pulls my hand up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I wanted to."

With one last glance to the handsome British man, I get into my car, Harry giving me a small wave as I drive away, his figure disappearing in my rear view mirror.

The encounter with him has left me feeling giddy and excited. Not only was he thoughtful towards me, but also just thoroughly romantic the entire time. I wasn't expecting Harry to ever become a client, but god, I'll look forward to the next time that I see him.

Later on, I decide to head to a bar near my house, just wanting to get a couple of drinks in my system for the night. I'm definitely not interested in anybody soliciting me since it's my day off, and I'm hoping nobody does.

I'm perched on a barstool, ordering myself a drink by only saying the names of the alcohols since I don't know how to make it more complex of a request. I've had to acquire the taste of neat tequila and vodka, which now I don't mind. The buzz comes on fast and it doesn't require me to know any Spanish of any kind.

A man sits beside me, saying something in Spanish to which I ignore, pretending as if he's not talking to me.

Then, in perfect English, he says, "No Spanish then, huh?"

With surprise and shock fixed onto my face, I turn to look at the man beside me. He has tanned skin and soft brown eyes with a dashing smile that sports a black mustache above it. His hair is also a slightly shaggy, shiny black that is flipped to the middle of his forehead. He's truly very attractive, but I really wanted to take the night off.

"No," I laugh slightly. "Hardly any."

The man chuckles as he sips his drink, a lit cigarette in the other hand. "Then what are you doing in a Spanish-speaking country?"

I wiggle in my seat, not wanting to give him any information about myself. "I could ask the same thing about you. You don't sound like you're from here."

"I'm not," he beams. "I was born in Chile, but then moved to America shortly after."

"And what are you doing in Colombia?" I ask with my head propped up on my hand.

"Vacation. I'm here with a few friends."

My head turns around to scan the bar. "Are they here now?"

"No, they're at their hotels with their wives."

"And you don't have a wife?" I laugh.

"No. It's hard to with my job."

My brows raise. "Oh, yeah? And what exactly is your job?"

"Would you be impressed if I told you I'm a pilot?" he chuckles with an arched black brow.

"Very," I giggle, "but only if that's the truth."

"And why would I lie?" he asks as he leans in, his voice low.

"Fine, Mr. Pilot. You wouldn't mind paying for my drinks then, would you?"

"Not in the slightest."

I giggle, shaking his hand as I stand off my barstool. "Then you have a good night."

With a victorious smile on my face, I leave the bar, making my way back to my apartment that isn't too far away. I thought it'd be better to walk rather than drive in case I drink too much, which in this case I haven't. Maybe a little tipsy, sure, but not enough to be impaired while driving.

There's a brief moment where I think I hear someone behind me, but I turn and nobody is there, making me shrug it off. I come up to the next alleyway, instinctively turning to look down it to find it empty. Perhaps it's the alcohol or the unsettled feeling that nighttime gives me, but I can't help but feel like I'm being followed.

I make it back to my apartment safely, climbing up the stairs in the building with groans of disapproval, my feet aching from my heels. At my door, I push the key in, being greeted by my shitty apartment that still somehow envelops me with a sense of comfort.

Even though it's a rather run-down section of town, and a less than adequate building, I still feel the most at ease here.

My tight dress slides off my body with a gentle tug, slipping on a nightgown before I tuck myself into bed. My mind flicks back to Harry being thrust inside of me, and his beautiful face twisted with pleasure. It causes me to clench around nothing just from the memory of him, and I know that he's going to be my new addiction.

As I shut my eyes, there's a knock on my apartment door to which I groan. Who the hell is here this late at night? With a wobbly, tired and tipsy walk to my front door, I pull it open, a man bursting inside suddenly.

"What the fuck?" I ask, watching as I can now make out the man to be one of my father's associates, José. "What are you doing here?"

"We were raided," he says with his back turned to me, holding several keys of cocaine in his arms. "I'm hiding this here."

"What? No the fuck you're not!" I shout.

José pulls his gun out and draws it on me, making my hands fly up immediately. "How about you shut your stupid bitch mouth and listen to me?"

"I'm gonna tell my dad—"

He scoffs, stuffing the cocaine beneath my couch cushions. "Who do you think cleared me to come here? Ever think that maybe your dad just doesn't give a shit about you?"

My emotions are once again held at bay. Why the fuck can't I cry?

"Just please hurry up and get out."

He finishes hiding the rest of the powder, finally lowering his gun. "You're lucky I don't fuck you right here for being such a bitch."

I swallow, my eyes staying on the floor as I decide to not answer him.

"Don't act like you wouldn't love it," he laughs. "It's your job to be a whore." José gives me a rough smack across my face, making me fall to the floor as I grip it. "Be happy that's all I'm doing before I leave." He slams my apartment door.

For a bit after he leaves, I'm sat against my living room wall gripping my cheek that throbs with a stinging pain. This isn't a feeling I'm unfamiliar with. The burn in my face only reminds me that I really am worthless here, and nothing more than a prostitute with no life worth living.

****

[amor-immortalem]

Too Good to be true ch.4

Word count: 5.2k+

A/N: I’m making this the final part even if it kills me.

・・・〆・・・

“Aurelius? I thought you and Cyrus were going to visit your sister this afternoon. Did something come up?” Arella’s surprised to see her middle child when he pops into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

“No. Dad asked me not to go.” The half-demon answers back, “Said he was gonna go see her by himself. He was going to tell her what’s been going on. I’m assuming he means about the two of you but I don’t know- he kind of left that last part open to interpretation.”

“He… did?” She shifts nervously. “I didn’t know that.”

“I figured,” is all Aurelius replies as he grabs the lunch meat out. “What is going on with you two? You and Dad are on the cusp of a separation and neither of you will tell us anything about what happened to cause it. We’re scared- I’m scared. I just want my family back to how it was before…” he makes a general gesture to everything around him “all of this.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know this is hard- I know it’s scary.” She wishes she could make it better so badly. “I’ll find a way to work this out, okay?”

“It seems like he’s ready to give up though,” the teen mumbles sadly as he finally finishes making his sandwich.

Arella only frowns as she watches him take it back to his room.

・・・〆・・・

The rest of the visitation carries on like it usually does. It isn’t until the last five minutes, that Azalea’s chooses to confront the topic of her father’s missing wedding ring.

“I know I said something before and ya ignored it but where’s your wedding ring?” Maybe this time he’ll answer her.

“I gave it back to your mother.” Is all Mammon gives in response.

“What, did it get damaged or somethin’?”

“No…” now he wonders if he should tell her or not- whether the news might impact Azalea’s treatment process or not. “I gave it back to ‘er as in I was thinking about separatin’. That night we sent you here was the night I found out about your candle being tampered with- we got into a huge fight. Well, actually it was more so just me yelling at her… anyway, I gave her the ring back and said that I was done.”

“Is that when ya put your hand through the wall?” Azalea asks.

“Yeah- surprised both her and myself- but anyway I ended up leavin’ and I haven’t been back since. How did you even find out about me puttin’ my hand through the wall in the first place?”

“Cyrus,” the half-demon answers. “You know he always tells me everything eventually. He can’t hide anything from his favorite sibling”

“Yeah… well anyway, it’s time for me to get goin’. With any luck, you’ll be out of here soon once they find the right medication for you. Be good and stay out of trouble, Kiddo.”

“I will, thanks, Dad.”

The demon takes his leave while Azalea is wanded down by unit staff to make sure she didn’t have any contraband items on her person before being led back onto her unit.

As Mammon steps out onto the busy sidewalk, he fishes his phone out from his pocket. There were 7 missed calls from Arella and a few texts from Thirteen.

“Might as well see what Arella wants…” he presses call and waits for her answer.

・・・〆・・・

“And now we’ve got a whole new problem.” Arella frowns into her cup of tea as she and Thirteen sit at the kitchen table.

“What kind of problem, Hon? If it’s about the secret, I don’t think Mammon would go about telling others.”

“Azalea. According to what Aurelius told me earlier, Mammon was planning to tell her about something at visitation- the whole situation with her candle I’m assuming. He even went without me knowing so I couldn’t order him to keep quiet about it.”

“I’m sorry, Arella,” the reaper sighs, “But I fail to see how that’s a problem. Actually I think having her know would be more beneficial to pulling this off until we find a proper solution.”

“How so?” The human asks, confused, “Knowing Azalea, she’d take full advantage of the fact that she can’t die and pull the most risky stunts imaginable.”

“How much do the kids know about Lilith and the war?”

“Not very much. Only that she fell in love with a human and broke a law in the Celestial Realm which then resulted in the war and the brothers falling from grace,” Arella admits, brushing some hair back behind her ear. “The brothers don’t really talk about Lilith much anymore. They had their closure so I suppose that’s just their way of moving on and not trying to open up old wounds. As far as the war goes… well, you could imagine they don’t want to talk much about what was undoubtedly one of the worst experiences they’ve ever been through. What are you getting at?”

“I’m not really trying to get at anything. But at least Azalea knows what happens to individuals that tamper with life spans so she won’t say anything and may even be more cautious about how she lives her life now.”

“Hmm, you have a point, I’ll give you that.” The human admits as she takes a long, appreciative sip of her tea.

That’s when Arella’s phone rings. The human is quick to snatch it up and step out into the hall.

“Hello?” She tries to sound composed, like she hasn’t been just waiting around for her husband to call her back so they could sort this whole mess out- or at least try to.

“Yo… what’d ya call for?” Mammon asks as he leans against the wall of Café Lament.

“Oh, right that- I had wanted to ask you if you’d like to meet up anywhere so we could talk. I know you went to go see our daughter without me as well…”

“Yeah… I told her about everything with the candle. Figured she had the right to know ‘n all seeing as how if this blows up in your face, she’s the one who has to pay the ultimate price.”

“And how’d she take it?”

“About as well as you can for finding out somethin’ like that. Anyway, yeah we can meet up. I’m right outside Café Lament right now so hurry up. I’m a busy demon these days.”

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just wait for me.” Arella bites back the urge for a snippy comeback about him being busy as she hangs up. She’s getting what she wants, after all. Why ruin it?

“Thirteen can you keep an eye on Mahlon for me? I’m running out to Café Lament to see Mammon. I’ll bring you back a sweet on my way home..”

“That’s fine.” The pink-and-blue-haired woman calls, “Call me if you need anything.”

And with that, Arella teleports herself away.

・・・〆・・・

Mammon didn’t really expect his wife to appear in front of him mere seconds after he’d hung up with her. One second his head was buried in his phone, the next he’s face to face with the tiny human.

“When I said ‘hurry up,’ I didn’t mean actually teleport.” The demon tries putting up this façade of annoyance.

“Sorry, I just- let’s just go in,” she suggests, already heading to the door. “Since you’re so busy, I figured you’d appreciate the promptness and getting straight to the point.”

“So, you wanted to talk?” Mammon slides into a booth nestled into the café’s back corner as Arella takes a seat opposite of him.

“Yes. Look, I’m sorry that everything unfolded the way it did. I’m sorry I never told you and I’m sorry that you felt hurt and betrayed when you found out but I had my reason for doing so.”

“Such as?” He doesn’t look impressed with her words. “It better be a damn good one.”

“You. I was worried about the impact that knowing would have on you. You worry so much not just about Azalea but all of our children. Just the thought of any of them getting hurt stresses you out beyond belief so imagine what would happen if you knew our daughter could die at a moment’s notice if the secret about her candle was found out. You would be constantly on guard, constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure no one was coming for her life.”

She places her hands over his.

“It was always my plan to tell you eventually, Love. I just could never find the right time and at some point, I began to think that maybe it would be better to not say anything at all and just take the secret to my grave- thought that I was protecting you by not telling you.”

“But yet you could tell, Asmo? You trusted him with this more than me.” Mammon wants to pull his hand away but he can’t seem to.

“I only ended up telling Asmo because he thought I was still delirious from the fever I’d had at the time- in a way I suppose he was right. That was right after Azalea had been brought into hospital for her injuries from the abduction incident. Like I said, before that, I had no intentions of letting the secret outside of Thirteen and myself.”

“Well, it’s out to me… so what do we do now? About our fight? I’m not sure how I still feel about what you did.”

“Just come home, please.” Her grip on the demon’s hand tightens slightly. “Even if its only for the kids. They miss you.”

And he considers it for a few moments. The three oldest are grown. They’d understand as long as a proper explanation was given. The only one that might suffer would be the youngest. Even if he and Arella explained as simply as they could why Daddy won’t be coming home every night, Mahlon still might not fully understand the situation.

Mammon lets out a sigh through his nose. He needs more space- more time to figure his feelings out.

“I gotta lot of work to get through back in Hell. I can’t give you my answer right now but I’ll think about it while I’m working…”

Arella feels a little relieved. It wasn’t an outright rejection at least.

“Okay.” She nods as the demon stands and his hand finally slips out of her grasp. The human is left sitting alone in the booth.

・・・〆・・・

Aurelius is just lying in bed attempting to get a quick nap in after the late night he’d had staying up worrying about the wreck his family had devolved into when his phone rang.

Blindly, he reaches for the device and doesn’t bother to look at the caller id before answering.

“Yeah?” His voice croaks as he rolls onto his back.

“Dude, you ain’t never gonna believe what I just heard from Dad.” Azalea’s voice is quiet, like she’s about to give him top secret information that neither of them should have.

It piques Aurelius’ attention.

“What’d he tell you? Something good?”

“You remember that story Thirteen told us all those years ago- about the family she helped out by tampering with one of their kids’ life candles? The one who had lost a kid previously and she knew losing another would break the parents?”

“Yeah… but only vaguely.” the 18-year-old doesn’t like where this is going.

“It was about our family. My candle flame is frozen.”

“You’re lying.” The half-demon lurches forward, sitting up in his bed. “Say sike, right now.”

“Wish I was… Mum knew this whole time but Dad didn’t- that’s what caused the fight…” there’s some shuffling around on Azalea’s end of the line and a muffled voice talking to Azalea.

“Damn… wait, how did you find out? And why hasn’t Mum said anything sooner?”

“You know how sensitive things like this are. She probably figured she was protecting you guys from any of the ramifications that would come if my situation got found out by another reaper…”

“Makes sense, if you’re going down anyway best not to take as many people as possible with you… and that kind of logic really tracks for our mother…” he lets himself fall back down onto his bed. “So, like, you never actually had a chance of dying all along?”

“Exactly. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to share with ya. My doctor’s here to see me about my medication so I gotta go.”

“Aight, I’ll talk to you later then. Keep me posted when you get an outdate. Zulima and I will come get you and we’ll all do something fun together- maybe hit up the movies or go out to eat or something.”

“Yeah… will do. Love ya.”

“Love you too.”

The pair of half-demons hang up and Aurelius is calling his cousin in all of two seconds.

“Zul, you won’t believe what ‘Zay just told me.”

・・・〆・・・

“So I see you’re still reporting that sensation of- if I’m using your own words- feeling like a zombie- is that correct, Miss Morningstar?” The doctor’s office feels cold and stuffy as Azalea tries to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair.

“Yeah. I already told ya I wanna go back to what I was takin’ on the outside. It worked fine enough- kept me pretty even-keel…”

“I’ve already told you we’re not going that route. You wouldn’t be here if your previous medicine was working as intended. I’m putting in an order for you to switch over to Tegretol for the mood swings and Citalopram for the depression. We’ll monitor your reaction to the medication for three more days and then perhaps we’ll talk about your discharge. As it stands, I’m thinking perhaps Friday. Anything else, you’d like to bring up?”

Azalea only shakes her head.

“Then you’re free to go. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

“Thanks, doc,” is all the 18-year-old can say as she takes her leave.

・・・〆・・・

The next three days pass by really quick for Azalea. These new meds made her feel exhausted, dizzy, and nauseous for the first couple hours after taking them even with meals but at least it was a step up from feeling like she was a member of the walking dead. These were side effects she could handle.

As Friday approached, the teen finds herself unable to sleep during that last night, her mind far to preoccupied with the things she would do once she had her freedom back.

Once the Devildom’s equivalent of daylight breaks, the half-demon is stripping off her bed sheets and taking them to the unit’s laundry room. She grabs some towels from the nurses station for a quick shower.

Her discharge was an early one set for 7:45 am and by the time she’s ready to go, her co-patients are starting to huddle around the unit’s exit door.

“Here are your meds,” one of the dayshift nurses says as he hands them over to her from her chart. “Your script is also in there as well. Be sure to keep up with them.”

“Right, right,” her tone is sarcastic, “I get it. S’long as I’m compliant with ‘em I won’t have another episode…”

“You also have an outpatient session scheduled with your therapist, so make sure you actually go to it.”

“What makes ya think I won’t?”

The male demon shoots her a meaningful look, “I know your type: prideful as the day is long. Most demons with your personality type don’t stick with treatment and I see them right back here in a matter weeks.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t me so…” Azalea takes a look the clock behind the nurse. “It’s time. Can I just get my stuff so I can get the hell outta dodge?”

“Very well,” the nurse hands over the brown paper bag that was filled with various disallowed items her parents had mistakenly sent with the rest of her clothes over the course of her stay here. “Now if you’ll follow me, I’m sure your parents are outside waiting.”

“Right!”

As the pair walk out and on to the awaiting elevator, a round of applause breaks out from the other patients on the unit. Once she’s on the ground floor and the nurse swipes his badge to let her out, she smiles seeing her parents waiting there for her to take her home.

Arella opens her arms for her daughter and the teen nearly topples her mother over as she wraps the human up in the tightest bear hug imaginable without breaking any of the human’s bones.

“How’re you feeling? Better?” She asks as she pulls back to inspect her daughter’s face. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“Mhm- I didn’t sleep very well last night though so I’m a lil’ tired…”

“Well, good thing ya got all day to sleep. Those beds ain’t very comfortable anyhow.” Mammon says, almost as if he’s speaking from experience.

“Right,” and with that the three of them are climbing in the car and heading home.

・・・〆・・・

It’s been a few weeks since Azalea was discharged from the hospital. She’d like to say everything had changed completely for the better but that’s not quite the case. There’s a tension that hangs in the air at home- divides between her parents and divides between two of her brothers. Hell, her parents aren’t even sleeping in the same room anymore! And Azalea feels like she’s stuck in the middle of all this, like she’s to blame- she was the catalyst for this after all.

The only two who feel like they haven’t changed are Thirteen and Mahlon. The reaper is as busy as she’s always been, dropping by every couple of days like normal and Mahlon never stops pestering Azalea, despite their parents’ best attempts to redirect the child.

The stress of it all, that feeling of guilt that hangs over her is heavy- makes her want to start cutting again. Azalea doesn’t want to go back to the hospital again either so she takes to wearing a rubber band around her wrist as part of a grounding strategy.

Azalea also takes to being out of the house as much as she can. She takes runs through the city or just drops in on one of her uncles and cousins just to feel some semblance of peace and a somewhat functional family.

Today, it was Levi, Henry, and Isabella that she’d gone to see. While the little family of Otaku could be a bit much at times, as long as she wasn’t stuck under all that tension at home Azalea could put up with it.

“Did you ever get around to seeing that Harrison Porter movie after you got paroled?” Henry asked as he swivels around in his desk chair. The game he was coding right now just not going as planned. It’s just the two of them right now.

“Paroled?” Azalea looked up from her phone, confused. “Henry, where the hell do you think I was? Jail?”

“Yeah? Where else would you have been? It’s kinda cool- I got a convict for a cousin…”

“No!” she squawks indignantly, “One, that’s not at all cool, two, I ain’t a convict- both my parents and Uncle Lucifer would have my head if I ever got in that much trouble- ‘n three, I was in a nuthouse. I tried to off myself.”

“Oooohhh… that makes more sense…” the thirteen-year-old replies, “Well, same difference…”

“It’s… it’s really not but okay…” she goes back to her phone, “but to answer your question, no… the whole franchise is kinda ruined for me at this point…”

“Then you’ve gotta give TSL a try!” The purple-haired boy nearly falls out of his chair in his excitement to show his cousin the one fandom that’s been close to his heart ever since he was born. “It’s got just about everything Harrison Porter does but better! And it’s written by someone we know- how cool is that!? C’mon, we’ll go raid my dad’s collection right now.”

“No, no, no, that’s quite alright, Henry.” The 18-year-old has to stop him before he starts off into one of his long-winded rants about the material and all of his theories on it that have yet to be confirmed. “The Lords all remind me a little too much of our family- like so much so that it feels like Simeon used them as the basis for the characters…”

“Yeah… but that’s what makes it so memorable to me… the lord of shadows is just plain awesome!”

“Wow, biased much?” The older half-demon chuckles,

“Yeah- and what of it?” Henry shoots back, a smile on his face, “I still think Henry should have ended up with the Lord of Shadows over the Lord of Fools but I get it, those two characters are an analog for your parents and everybody in our little circle knows it so they had to end up together or things would be weird- anyway, did you know once the final volume gets published, Simeon and Meli are going to start working together on a sequel series based on the Lords’ kids?”

“No… again, I’ve been in the hospital. But good for Meli, I guess… Did Simeon really like her fanfictions all that much that he’d want to make it all canon?”

“I guess…” Henry rights himself in his chair. “It’s all Uncle Satan could talk about when he was over the other day. He’s really proud of her.”

“You know those kids are based on us, right? Are you really okay with possibly having our family’s dirty laundry aired out like that?”

“Your family’s the only one that’s dysfunctional, ‘Zay.” He teases, “The rest of us have normal families aside from Meli -besides, you really think she’d do that to us?”

“I think if it creates an interesting enough plot, she’d put anything in there. Anyway, I’m happy she’s getting to have her dream come true with that project. Moving on… hurry up and finish your coding. I’m still waiting to test the beta for ya.”

Silence grows between the two as Henry goes back to his coding and Azalea keeps her head buried in her phone.

・・・〆・・・

“Mijo, put your game away and come help me with the groceries. Ándale.”

The pair of half-demons perk up at the sound of Isabella’s voice as she enters through the front door and Herny is downstairs in point two seconds to do what his mother is asking. Azalea doesn’t understand what the rush is but follows along all the same and helps get the groceries in.

“Dude, what’s the rush for?” She asks as she grabs a couple bags.

“When Mamá tells me to do something and it includes spanish phrases, it’s a pretty good indicator of her patience and if I don’t get off my ass and do it quickly, I’ll get la chancla straight to the head.” The teen pales at the thought of the last time he had that damn flip flop thrown at him.

“Okay?” Azalea chuckles softly, “it’s a flip flop how bad can it hurt for you to get hit by?”

“You laugh now, but that’s only because you’ve never experienced getting hit by la chancla for yourself. When she yeets that thing, it’s always a head shot. I don’t know how she has such perfect aim without magic...”

“It’s because I’ve mastered the secret art of chancla throwing passed down to me from your abuelita, my dear. Pero anyway, it’s nice for you to stop by Azalea. How’ve you been?”

“Just… y’know, livin’ the dream.” She sets the bags on the kitchen island. “Speaking of, I should probably get goin’. Solaris asked me to stop by the dorm when I got a chance next so that’s where I’m headed.”

“Oh… that’s a shame, I was hoping you’d stay for dinner. Oh well, maybe next time, yes?”

“Yeah, thanks, Tía.” And before anything else can be said, Azalea is out the door.

・・・〆・・・

Dad

Hey you’ve been out runnin’ around all day. Come home soon, would ya?

That’s the fifth missed text. Azalea doesn’t know if she’s exactly ready to head back home just quite yet. She doesn’t want to head back into the mess that her family’s turned into. Another text appears on her screen.

Mum

Dinner is almost done, Dear. I’ll save you some in the oven if you’re going to run late. Also, since your not answering him, your father asked me to tell you he wants to speak with you when you get home.

Had it really gotten to be that late? The half-demon wonders to herself as she changes routes. Solaris would have to wait.

Secretly, Azalea wonders if what Mammon wants to talk to her about has anything to do with that question he sprang on her while they were in the emergency room.

She still doesn’t know how to answer that question despite having thought long and hard about it. She doesn’t want to throw away all the good times they had when she was little but he was right in saying that she deserved better.

She runs her hands through her white-and-black hair as a frustrated groan emanates from her throat.

“Damn him, why’d he have to go and say all that anyway? Why couldn’t this just be like all the rest of the times he screwed up? How can ya even put a decision like that on your own kid?”

Because Azalea knows that ultimately the decision is hers and hers alone to make.

“Fuck, why can’t this be easy?”

And when Azalea finally does make it home an hour later, she finds things seem to be a little less tense as she can hear her parents both in the kitchen chatting casually as they wash and put away the dishes from dinner.

The first to notice her is Mammon who greets her with a smile.

“Hey, kid, felt like you were never gonna make it back here.”

“Yeah…” she doesn’t exactly know what to say. After feeling like an afterthought for so long, it feels weird having her father’s undivided attention. “You guys seem like you’re back to normal…”

“Here, sit down at the table,” Arella says as she pulls out the leftovers from the oven choosing to gloss over her daughter’s statement.

“Three plates?” The teen looks surprised, “Did y’all wait for me?”

“Yeah,” the demon shrugs, “we made dinner a bit earlier than normal because Cyrus had to work tonight and Aurelius didn’t want any since his girlfriend’s back in town from whatever travel she was doin’ and they were goin’ on a dinner date so we figured we’d just wait on you so ya didn’t have to eat alone.”

“Thanks,” now Azalea really doesn’t know what to say as they all take a seat. She doesn’t know why but this feels… nice? Is that really the right term?

“So, how was your day?” Arella asks as she looks up from her plate.

“I mean it was okay… I spent a large portion of it with Henry…” the half-demon answers as she pushes her food around her plate. “What about your guys’?”

“It actually wasn’t that bad.” Mammon comments, “For once, your little brother wasn’t a menace at the shops when we went out on our errands so that was a plus.”

“Hmm, maybe you’ll finally be able to take him places now.” Is all Azalea comments as she shoves a forkful of food in her mouth.

Both of her parents hum in agreement and they all fall into a comfortable silence.

As dinner comes to an end, Azalea helps her parents finish up the dishes.

“Mama…” a very pitiful cry from Mahlon sounds as the boy walks into the kitchen, the front of his pajama shirt stained a bright orange. “I threw up in my room.”

“Okay, I’ll clean it up.” The human says softly as she grabs some cleaning supplies from under the sink. “Let’s get you changed out of your dirty pjs first.” She takes the black-haired boy’s hand and leads him back upstairs, leaving Mammon and Azalea alone.

“You guys don’t seem too worried about whatever that was…” she says as she watches her mother and brother disappear around the corner. “What if it’s serious?”

“Ehh, kids throw up all the time for no major reason.” The demon hums, “Dinner just probably didn’t agree with his stomach- this was the first time we’ve ever made anything that didn’t include ingredients from the human world. You older three are more acclimated to and can tolerate Devildom food but Mahlon’s special. He takes more after your mother’s side.”

“And?” She quirks a brow curiously, “So does Aurelius and he can eat the food here just fine.”

“True but if ya really look at it, Aurelius is more a proper blend between demon and human while Mahlon has very little demonic influence. He’s more or less just a regular human kid with enhanced strength and speed and some odd birthmarks.”

“So he’ll never have any magic or demonic powers?”

“No.” Mammon admits, “but he’ll be fine. Ya don’t hafta have fancy demonic powers or magic to have a fulfilling life down here and it’s rare but if ya know where to look you’ll find a lot of demons who were born without either as well. They just gotta work a little harder in life is all.”

“Damn,” the half-demon says as she puts the last plate up. “And I thought my life sucked- I can’t imagine what he’s gonna go through… anyway Mum said you had wanted to talk to me about somethin’ earlier while I was out…?”

“Yeah, I did. Did ya ever think more about what I asked you in the emergency room?”

“Mhm…” Azalea leans against the counter, eyes trained at the floor. “And I couldn’t really decide one way or the other, y’know? That’s too much of a decision for me to make- not with how long our lives are. And to say that you’ll never be able to change in all of that time is a bit outlandish…”

“Alright then…” Mammon steps away from the counter. “It’s been a long day for me so I’m gonna head to bed. Are you gonna be up longer or are you goin’ too?”

“I’ll wait up for Aurelius and Cyrus so they don’t gotta come into a dark house. See ya in the mornin’.”

She watches as her father disappears from the kitchen before grabbing a drink from the fridge and settling down on the couch to wait for her brothers.

As the peaceful silence of the house consumes the freckled girl, she thinks about her situation and how one day she’ll be the one to outlive the rest of her family.

“Yeah… best to keep them all close for the time I can.”

・・・〆・・・

End

A/N: this was an exhausting mini fic to write which is why it ended up taking so long to wrap up but it’s finally over. I need to work on something fluffier now.