#grayson hawthorne angst

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 8

“can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time // i can’t read you but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine.”

summary: grayson comes over to talk things out in the dead of night, and to say you’re on edge is an understatement. wc: 1.3k a/n: the tiny parallels to part 2 somebody sedate me… how are we at part 8 already 😭😭💔 graysons pov next omf i cannot series masterlist — other parts

previously on part 7…

“**A blocked number wants to message you. Accept?**

— I’m sorry. .— I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I can’t let losing you be another. 

**Tap here to delete this message, and all previous conversation.** ”

—

you weren’t sure why you responded after that. you should’ve left it alone, he had no problem with not talking to you before, so why should you?

why was he saying this stuff now? why the switch up when you had just gotten comfortable with him not being there anymore? 

*Grayson Hawthorne has been unblocked*

you

— ok  — we should probably talk — this is so stupid

you should’ve just kept him blocked, but you didn’t. of course you messaged him back. there was no other word to describe the new silence between you other than wrong. perhaps there was another: unbearable.

‘we should probably talk’ you said. it was short, direct, and, unfortunately, impossible for you to take back.

after you showered your grogginess off and got changed, all without waking gigi up, you went to the living room and sat down.

the lights were all off, so you turned on a low lamp that engulfed the whole room in a dim yellowish white hue. you fluffed up the pillows on your couch, changed their place, then changed their place again. 

you checked the time again: 2:43 am.

you went around the living room once more, moving framed pictures and ornaments and making sure everything looked right. a part of you wanted to be in control of something— just the way your house looked, because it felt like recently you had no control over anything. your emotions, your friendships, your life.

it was 2:50 now.

your leg bounced up and down as you waited for him to come over. he texted you and asked  if it was alright for him to come and see you, and you said sure.

you didn’t know what you expected, and you were half hoping for him to ghost you again so you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive text. 

you looked around your living room, looking for something to fix or put into place as you waited anxiously. you noticed a candle you and gigi had lit hours earlier that you forgot to put out, still burning. 

you intended to blow it out, but then stomach dropped at the sound of the familiar knock— one that you had made up years and years ago. 

you forced your feet to the door, and when you opened it, grayson hawthorne stood there, every inch of him collected and unreadable, the way he always was. the only difference was that his hair looked slightly less neat than usual, like he had been running his hands through it.

his eyes flickered over your face for half a second, and then away. 

“are you sure this alright— me being here?” he asked, his voice hesitant. why was he acting like he wasn’t the one who put you guys in this position? 

you stepped aside wordlessly as you nodded, letting him in. you tucked your hair behind your ears, and he sat on the couch directly opposite you. 

you couldn’t tell if that was deliberate—  sitting on the seat furthest away from you. you felt your shoulders stiffen as you realized you were sitting on the couch he once kissed you on.

his hands weren’t fidgeting like yours, his leg wasn’t moving up and down, he gave the picture of looking perfectly fine.

you hated that about him— how you how he could look so composed, so detached, when you felt like your skin was on fire.

you crossed your arms, grounding yourself, and finally spoke.

“grayson, listen, i—“

“i should’ve never—“

your eyes met, and you realized you had both started at the same time.

grayson eyes went to floor. “apologies, you go first. you invited me here.”

“it’s okay, you can go.”

“i insist, please.” 

“okay then” your voice wavered, and you hated that too. 

“okay, so. we fought. it was bad. and, i don’t know about you, but i didn’t like it.” you said simply, adding a nervous chuckle, and grayson nodded slightly. 

you continued, “you know, i don’t want to be… on weird terms with you. because, at the end of the day, you are one of my best friends. i can’t do this weird halfway stuff.”

the words sat heavy in the room, heavier in your chest.

best friends.

you swallowed hard, not looking at him, and willing yourself not to choke on the phrase.

“and it would be a shame if we let one tiny mistake we made when we were tired and out of our minds ruin that.” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word kiss. you finally brought your eyes back up to his, and his gaze was stuck on you.

his face looked like it fell, and it looked like every movement in his body stopped for a moment.

he regained his composure, shifting slightly as his gaze resharpened, and you couldn’t tell if it was the word mistake or the forced steadiness in your tone that made his jaw tense.

his lips parted, like he was going to speak, then he shut them again. 

“a tiny mistake,” he finally echoed, his voice low, with the tiniest narrow in his eyes, that you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time looking at them in the past.

you could hear your heart beating in your chest, and you scratched your arms in an up and down motion. “yeah.” you nodded.

maybe if you said it enough times, it would feel real— maybe if he believed it, you would, too.

“i don’t want to lose our friendship over something so… insignificant, when our friendship has lasted for so long.” you added— your voice softening.

there it was again, that flicker in his eyes. the slightest shift, gone before you could make any sense of it. 

is it bad that you wanted him to just feel a fraction of the hurt and confusion that he made you feel? even if you were hurting yourself in the process?

he exhaled slowly, running a hand over his jaw. “you’re right.”

you don’t know what you were expecting. 

a part of you you wanted him to believe you. but you also didn’t; you wanted him to argue, to tell you it wasn’t a mistake at all, to tell you you were wrong, but he didn’t. 

“it was one action,” he said, his words as precise as ever. “we shouldn’t let complicate things.”

“right.” you exhaled, nodding along like you weren’t coming apart. “exactly.”  

you were lying.  

you both were.  

the silence after was deafening. he shifted slightly again, and you forced yourself to look anywhere but at him. 

you could feel the tension coiled between you, taut and heavy, threatening to snap if either of you said the wrong thing—or maybe the right thing.  

“so,” he said eventually, bringing his eyes to meet yours. you noticed a slight furrow in his brows when he asked; “we’re alright, then?”  

“yeah.” your voice was soft, almost unrecognizable to your own ears. “we’re good.”  

what the hell were you even doing? 

he smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and for a second, you almost envied him for it. envied him for looking so rational, so unaffected, while you felt like you were standing in the middle of a wreckage only you could see.  

“i should go now,” he said, standing up and sliding his hands into his pockets. you looked closely— and there seemed to be something in it. some sort of paper? probably just cash, or a business card— that wouldn’t be unusual for grayson to be carrying around.  

“yeah,” you replied, your throat tightening as you both made your way to the door. “it’s getting late”  

you said your goodbyes, and he thanked you for the talk and sorting things out. he lingered at the door for a second longer, one of his hands staying in his pocket strangely. he gave you one last look, then left. 

as the door closed behind him, the weight in your chest only grew heavier.  

you walked over to the candle you forgot to blow out earlier— it was dangerous, keeping it alight for that long. 

thoughts swarmed your mind as you blew air over the flame and it disappeared. you sat back on the couch and let your head fall back. you’d resolved it. right? 

you were friends again. you’d drawn the line, made it clear.  

so why did it feel like you’d just lost something you never even fully had?  

part 9

a/n: the other way this was going to go was that they angrily confess and kiss… i picked this one though 😬 i hope you aren’t too disappointed HAHAHAH taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm 

@goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington

[adddddiiii]

Could you pls write a grandma x reader where the reader relapses and cuts herself again and grayson sees her and she's scared of him seeing because she thought that he might judge her and leave her? Thankd<3

Relapse (Grayson vers.)

Contents: Grayson Hawthorne x gn!reader

Warnings: Mentions of scars, self-harm, relapse, slight angst, one use of y/n

It had been a hard week, one of those stretches where the weight of everything felt unbearable. You thought you were doing better, thought you’d put those days behind you. But when the emotions became too much, when the ache inside grew sharper than you could handle, you relapsed.

Afterward, the shame came rushing in like a tidal wave, leaving you to drown in it. But you did what you always did: buried it. You pulled your sleeves down and told yourself no one would notice. Not even Grayson.

He came over that evening, unannounced but welcome as always, bringing takeout and his quiet, steady presence. You weren’t sure if he knew how much you relied on that steadiness, how often it kept you grounded when you felt yourself spiraling.

“Movie night?” he asked while setting the food on the counter and glancing at you with a small smile.

You nodded, forcing a smile back. “Sure. I’ll grab the blankets.”

For the first hour, everything seemed normal. You sat curled up on the couch together, sharing fries and trading quiet remarks about the film. But as the night went on, you could feel his eyes lingering on you — subtle, careful, but observant as ever.

“Are you okay?” he asked at one point.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, waving him off.

He didn’t press, but you knew him well enough to see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

When you stood to grab another drink, your sleeve caught on the corner of the table, pulling up just enough to expose the fresh marks on your arm. You froze, yanking it back down, but not before Grayson saw.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and steady, the way he always spoke when he was trying to keep his emotions in check.

“It’s nothing,” you blurted out. Panic rose in your chest as you turned away from him. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, standing and taking a step closer.

“I said I’m fine, Grayson.” You tried to move away, but he caught your wrist. Not hard, not forcefully, just enough to stop you.

“Please don’t shut me out,” he murmured.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you bit your lip, shaking your head. “I didn’t want you to see.”

“Why?” his voice broke slightly. “Because you think I’d judge you?”

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. The shame was too much, twisting in your stomach like a knife.

Grayson’s grip on your wrist loosened, and he gently turned you to face him. “Look at me,” he said quietly.

You hesitated before meeting his gaze. His gray eyes were full of concern, not judgment, not disgust — just raw, unfiltered care.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I didn’t want you to think I’m weak."

“Y/n,” his tone was firm but impossibly gentle. “I don’t think that. Not for a second.”

You looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “I thought I was doing better. I didn’t want you to see how bad it’s gotten.”

Grayson reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm, just above where your sleeve covered the scars. “You don’t have to hide this from me,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and before you knew it, you were in his arms. He held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rested against your back, anchoring you to him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured again, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Stop apologizing,” his lips brushed against your hair. “You’re not weak, not even close. You’re human, and you’re hurting, and I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

You nodded against him, clinging to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you steady.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said quietly. “I’m here. No matter how hard it gets, I’m here.”

For the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter. And in his arms, you let yourself believe that maybe you could start to heal, one step at a time, with him by your side.

[authorscurse]

LOVE LEAVES SCARS: INTRODUCTION

Synopsis: In which! Due to a letter calling her to go back to Texas Verity Rosewood goes back to the place she spent years trying to forget. While she is there, she tries to reconnect with the people she left. Her family, friends, and especially the person she loved most.

[L.L.S Masterlist] [M. Masterlist] [G.H Masterlist]

Case file #1:

[Name]: Verity Rosewood

[Nickname(s)]: Veri

[Age]: 20

[Date of birth]: August 22, 2000

[Gender]: Female

[Sexuality]: Bisexual

[Eye color]: Brown eyes

[Hair color]: auburn

[Height]: 5'6

[Playlist]: Top of my school 【Katherine Lynn-Rose】 Pov 【Ariana Grande】 You're on your own kid 【Taylor Swift】 Brutal 【Olivia Rodrigo】 Little Miss Perfect 【Write out loud】Lose you to love me 【Selena Gomez】 All I want 【Olivia Rodrigo】 Dollhouse 【Melanie Martinez】 Be myself 【Why don't we】 I wanna be yours 【Arctic Monkeys】 Consequences【Camila Cabello】 Mess it up 【Gracie Abrams】 Control 【Halsey】 Elastic Heart【Sia】Applause 【Lady Gaga】 Thumbs 【Sabrina Carpenter】 In my mind 【Lyn Lapid】 Happier than Ever 【Billie Eilish】 Not strong enough【Boy genius】 If Only 【Dove Cameron】

Case File #2

[Name]: Grayson Hawthorne

[Nickname(s)]: Gray

[Age]: 19

[Date of birth]: August 23, 2001

[Gender]: Male

[Sexuality]: heterosexual

[Eye color]: pale gray

[Hair color]: blonde

[Height]: 6'0

[Playlist]: Looking at me【sabrina carpenter】Can I be him【James Arthur】Labyrinth 【Taylor Swift】Daddy Issues【The neighborhood】Ador You【Harry Styles】If I killed someone for you【Alec Benjamin】Man of the House【Marilyn Hucek】Money, Power, Glory【Lana Del Ray】I bet in losing dogs【Mitski】Angels like you【Miley Cyrus】Surface pressure【Jessica Darrow】People Watching【Conan Gray】I ain't perfect【IV of spades】Mistakes like this【Prelow】Mirror ball【Taylor Swift】Favorite crime【Olivia rodrigo】Feelin good【Michael Bublé] Lay all your love on me【ABBA】All of the girls you've loved before【Taylor Swift】Set fire to the rain【Adele】

Verity Rosewood

—The one who absquatulated

"I never wanted to leave, but I had to. For me."

Being the heir of the Rosewood family, Verity has been training and learning how to manage her family's company even at such a young age. She went to different kinds of classes, may it be public speaking classes, business management, dance classes, and many more. She had to be different, to be perfect. The pressure of being the best and perfect heir was exhausting, but she had her friends, right? The Hawthorne brothers have helped her cope with all the pressure and stress her family and everyone else pressed on her. She thought she could handle it, but everyone had their breaking points.

Grayson Hawthorne

—The Heir Apparent

"And that made me hate you even more."

Grayson had been considered as the "Heir apparent" of the family for as long as he remembered. As a Hawthorne, he was taught many things, and that included never showing emotion. He had to learn how to not cry or show signs of weakness. Being one of the oldest siblings didn't help with that at all. In fact, it just added even more pressure on him. Having to be the older and more responsible brother out of the rest. It was difficult. Trying to make yourself look as if you're not broken. He is broken and hurt, yet he makes sure not to show anyone even a second of his true emotions. He was not raised to be like that.

Verity + Grayson

—The never ending story

"In this toxic and suffocating world, we had each other."

The friendship of the Rosewood and the Hawthorne family has lasted for years now. So Verity being friends with the Hawthorne grandchildren was no such mystery. The group was always seen together during classes, tea time, playing outside on the grounds, or even skipping classes together. They were inseparable, but there were 2 children in the friend group that were much closer with each other than the rest; Verity and Grayson. The two consider each other as their safe places, the person who brings comfort to each other. Due to the pressure of their families, both of them really understood each other and considered one another as the place that they could bring down their walls and become their true selves. They felt safe, comforted, and peaceful in the presence of each other. Because for once, they felt as if they had one place they didn't have to pretend as if they're perfect.

[Playlist]: Back to December【Taylor Swift】Play date【Melanie Martinez】Tattoos forever【lauv】Love song【Why don't we】Make you mine【Public】Somebody to you【The Vamps】You and I 【One direction】That way【Tate McRae】Runaway【Aurora】If the world was ending【JP Saxe, Julia Michaels】Your name hurts【Hailee Steinfeld】Why's you only call me when you're high【Arctic Monkeys】Talk too much【Coin】Overdrive【Conan Gray】The one that got away【Katy Perry】House of memories【Panic! At the disco】Back to you【Selena Gomez】Midnight Memories【One direction】Still the one【One direction】Lover【Taylor Swift】The way I love you【Taylor Swift】Favorite crime【Olivia Rodrigo】I love you so【The walters】WYD now 【Sadie Jean】Somewhere only we know【Keane】Afterglow【Taylor Swift】Kiss it better【Rihanna】Kidult【Seventeen】No one can fix me【Frawley】Fall for you【Sarah Kang, Jesse Berrera】Remember that night【Sara Kays】

[jahayla-parker]

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[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine? Epilogue

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: her heart is so full.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 975

A/n: we are done with this series... I CANT BELIEVE IT OMG WERE DONE WITH IT 😭

THANK YOU TO YOU ALL FOR COLLOWING THIS SERIES EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME MONTHS TO FINISH IT ASJHAJDHDF 😭 ILY ALL SO MUCH ILY ILYY

im so happy heheh 🥹

anyways, enjoy!🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Mommyyy."

Y/n sighed, bowing her head and rubbing her eyes, water dripping from her fingers. She had only just gotten into the bath and Adelaide already missed her?

"Yes my love?" she called out.

"Where are you?"

"In the bath, baby."

Adelaide’s response was only the soft pitter patter of her feet as she ran into the bathroom, the door unlocked because Y/n knew her little girl loved following her around and if she had locked the door, it would have resulted in a tiny tantrum.

"Mommy, where is daddy?"

Adelaide had returned from school half an hour earlier, the car ride back home filled with her babbling about everything that had happened that day. Y/n had no choice but to nod along like she understood it all, while half the stuff she could not even make sense of.

It made her wonder if she even knew english.

Y/n raised her brows at her five year old. She only just remembered that her daddy was not home?

"Baby, daddy had some work. He will be returning soon."

Adelaide pouted, leaning against the tub and swirling her finger through the milky water.

"I miss him."

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to call him?"

Adelaide’s eyes lit up. "Yes momma! Please."

Y/n wiped her hand on a nearby towel and picked up her phone to dial up her husband’s number.

"Hello?"

Y/n had the call on speaker phone, so before she could respond, Adelaide did.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

Y/n could hear the smile in Grayson’s voice. "I’m just parking the car sweetheart. Come greet me?"

Adelaide only giggled and ran off, leaving the bathroom door open. Y/n sighed again, shaking her head.

Adelaide was a daddy’s girl through and through. And he was just as smitten by her as she was him.

Y/n would never want it any other way.

"You there, love?"

Y/n blinked, turning her attention to her phone. "Yes."

He paused for a moment. "I forgot what I was supposed to say." he exhaled a frustrated breath, prompting Y/n to giggle.

From the other end, Y/n heard Adelaide’s voice squeaking and squealing and smiled, deciding to end the call. Her husband would soon be coming to say hi anyway.

My husband.

Despite being married for four years already, the thought made her blush every time.

The two had gotten married almost a year after he had proposed. It took the two almost twelve months to convince Liam and her father that Grayson actually loved Y/n. Y/n’s mother, despite being disappointed in Grayson, had forgiven him quickly.

Maybe she saw the way Grayson looked at Y/n, or maybe it was her mother’s heart that only wanted happiness for her daughter. Whatever it was, she had accepted the two’s engagement within the first month. It was the men of the house who still held a grudge.

Y/n’s father and brother would constantly poke at Grayson, at times borderline bully the poor man. But Gray did not budge on his decision to marry her, even knowing that there was a chance that her family would never accept him and always hold animosity towards his very existence.

And that very determination of his to stay with Y/n swayed her father and brother, and while they still weren’t too friendly with him still, things were constantly getting better.

"Mommy’s in there." Y/n heard just a moment before Grayson appeared in the doorway, Adelaide in his arms.

His brows rose the tiniest fraction when he realised Y/n was in the tub. "Well, hello mama. How are you?"

Y/n shook her head, suppressing her smile at the way he shot her a suggestive smirk. "Good."

Adelaide squirmed in Grayson’s arm before he could say anything else, attention already drifting.

"Daddy, I drew you in school today. Let me show you."

She was gone then, leaving Y/n with her husband, who’s lips spread in a flirtier smirk.

He walked closer to her, leaning in while eyeing her shoulders. Y/n could already see the gears in his head turning, already thinking of ways to persuade Y/n to let him join. He began leaning in when she splashed some water on him, making him jerk away.

"Y/n! What was that for?"

She giggled, leaning back in the tub, shaking away the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. "Just felt like it."

He scowled at her, then before Y/n knew what was happening, he began tickling her.

Well, I didn’t think about the consequences.

"Gray- Grayson stoop."

He finally relented after a long moment of making Y/n laugh hysterically, her stomach squeezing.

If anyone who had known Grayson five years ago saw him now, so happy and warm, they would not believe it. But Adelaide had somehow, without even knowing, healed her father. He was happier now, he did not hide his emotions behind a mask, he smiled at everyone he talked to.

"That’s what you get for being mean to me."

She just smiled at him, her heart so full, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, not caring that she left behind prints of her hand, and tugged him close.

He let her do so without a complaint, smile on his lips when she finally kissed him.

"Daddy!"

Y/n pulled away, laughing lightly. "Go, daddy, your princess has summoned you."

He chuckled back, standing straight, but seemed to change his mind as he pecked her lips once more. "I’m yours."

Random confessions of love had become a habit of his now.

Kissing her forehead once he jogged out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Leaving her to smile to herself like a giddy teenager.

Mine.

He’s mine.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams

@bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @thena101

@imaseabear @book-nerd-emi @cassie6392

The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

[clarissaweasley-10]

WHY.ISNT.THERE.A.SINGLE. ROHAN.FANART.IN.THIS. FANDOM.

[7975348473]

Who Needs a Father When You Have Brothers?

———————————————

CH- 2

Jameson met each of his brothers gazes before sighing in defeat. He whipped out his phone, found the message and slid the phone across the table; towards them. Had this been another normal day, Jameson would have been slightly angered by the silent defeat. But today was, unfortunately, not a normal day. This happened to be Jameson's birthday, which was going terribly, he got a stupid ass message from his biological father and his heiress was out of town. A unique day indeed.

Nash grabbed the phone and showed it to each of his brothers.

A, much appreciated, silence followed.

"Jamie. Are you-" Nash started

"Yes. I am absolutely fine. I am ravishing actually, because, incase you haven't realized, its my birthday big brother, I am great." Jameson grimaced the moment he finished. He had screwed up.

Too many adjectives, too many synonyms for 'Good', god I am on edge today-

Jameson felt Grayson's peculiar glare on him, which can be quite exposing if you let it.

"Can you try to spew anything but lies today?" Said Grayson.

"That's right, I heard somewhere that lying on your birthday leads to bad headaches. " Came Xander's reply. His nonsense was much appreciated today.

"Speak, Jamie." A demand from the oldest Hawthorne.

Welp, its either give in or get a spanking. Might as well try to divert.

"Look, I know I have a way with words, but I am as bad at expressing myself as Xander is, going without scones for a day."

"People shouldn't have to go without scones for a day brother and you know it."

"Debatable, Xander."

"Mind elaborating?"

"Well, for starters, scones are relatively unhealthy. So eating them daily cannot be good for you. Sorry to break it to you."

Xander gave a dramatic gasp before stating, "Well brother. If we were to go-"

Grayson gave Xander a tiny nudge with his elbow and shot him a glare while Nash just sighed.

"OW! What did I do?- OH!! I SEE WHAT U DID THERE- Smart move Winchester."

Welp, it was worth a shot. Thought Jameson.

"Would you try to make this easier for all of us?" Came Grayson's retort, leaving behind none of his usual sharpness.

"Whatever do you mean, Gray?" Smiled Jameson. He met Grayson's eyes. A Question. A Challenge.

Lets see if I break today Gray, try me.

Grayson let his glare rest on Jameson's face for a long while. "You know exactly what I mean, dimwit."

"Well, its no secret that I am good at reading you, Gray. But it seems I am too tired to read between the lines today." Replied Jameson.

Grayson rolled his eyes, "Well let me save you the trouble, Jamie. Just what the fuck is going through that dumbass brain of yours?"

"Oh ho- you kiss Lyra with that mouth?" 

"Would you stop diverting the fucking conversation?"

"I was asking a genuine question."

"How the hell did you manage to bring up Lyra in this conversation?"

"She's my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, of course I can bring her up in any conversation that has something to do with you."

"He has a point." Intervened Xander.

"Shut up, Xander, no one asked."

"Rude."

"Yeah, why are you being so rude to the youngest? Cut him some slack." Said Jameson, bringing a hand to Xander's thigh.

"Yeah! I can always go tell Gran. I am her favourite." Said Xander.

"Whose side are you on Xander?" Said Grayson, his voice as sharp as a knife.

"I was on yours until you asked me, Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, to shut up. Me, Gray. Really?" Replied Xander, lacking no dramatic flair.

Jameson snorted before nodding in agreement.

"Xander, have you seriously forgotten why we're here in the first place?" Asked Grayson, obviously exasperated.

"Oh, don't try to fish him back to your side now. I am his favorite brother." Said Jameson, looking to Xander for confirmation.

"Uh- well- that's not necessarily true in all cases." said Xander, awkwardly flashing Jameson a smile.

"Okay. Ouch. Direct hit little brother. I have taught you well." Said Jameson. At this Grayson snorted.

"Actually, your heiress taught me that." Replied Xander, confidently.

"See, you're useless Jameson." Said Grayson.

"And he successfully diverted you too, Gray. Commendable effort Jamie, I must say, you almost got us all there." Said Nash, finally joining in on his brothers' chaos.

Grayson sent Jameson another glare upon realizing his defeat.

Victory. Sweet as hell. 

Nash stared Jameson up and down, calculating his next move before he continued, "You're not going to give in that easily are you, little brother? "

Jameson shot Nash a crooked smile in reply.

"Then lets do this the Hawthorne way. We'll play a game. If you win, Jamie, we will allow you to continue sulking in your corner. No cars. No adrenaline-boosting activities. But we won't push for answers." Said Nash, his voice full of authority, a voice no one could say no to.

"But if one of us wins, you will have to give us all the answers we want." Finished Nash.

Both Grayson and Xander nodded in agreement.

"Well, the chances do seem to be a bit unfairly tipped towards your side, don't they brother?" Asked Jameson, innocently.

"Are you saying you might lose? "Asked Grayson, a single eyebrow raised.

Jameson turned his head to face Grayson and shot him a wicked grin. "Never."

"Right. In order to make it up to you, Jamie, you choose the game." Said Nash, fixing his collar.

Jameson thought for a good moment. He glanced at each of his brothers one by one and he noticed one thing.

Each of his brothers were unusually under-dressed today. Even Grayson.

 Each of his brothers were now staring at him, anticipation clear on their face. Jameson smirked and met their gazes. His brothers immediately understood.

"Strip-Bowling."

[blaaaaa3451]

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne...

My Boy needs some love :(

Do you ever think about how many times he's had to hold back tears passing by the cliff? How many places he's avoided that reminded him of Emily Laughlin? How many times his throat closed up, tears pricked his eyes; his lips unintentionally quivered with every photo in his Camera that he sees of her? How many possible friendships he could have had that she inadvertently ruined? Even if he wasn't in the business of making friends, it could have been the earlier start of his own emotional wellbeing getting healed- like my heart hurts.

[me-h1m]

i am joining tig writing community!!!!!!!!!!

currently writing a fic requests are open!

[zmbiesoph]

PLLLSSSSS IM BEGGING GIVE ME WRITING IDEAS

PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GRAYSON OR CARL! (Or literally anyone, ideas - Jeremiah fisher, dean redding, daryl dixion, Ron Anderson, jj Maybank, John b, ANYONE)

@carlsangel @rarllover3753 @txrasbae @hiro--aoki @midiosaamor @midiosaamor

[catapparently]

Pull me out the Train Wreck

AO3 LINK • MASTERLIST

averyjameson In which Avery and Jameson are returning to Texas after the Phoenix games, but Jameson suddenly makes them take the train from New York to Texas instead of flying, a train that says "Jameson". Let's guess, who owns it? Surely not his father? (Of course it's his father.) Then Avery comforts him and they draw each other.

They’d been seated on the train for a few hours now; the red leather seats of the first class creaking quit every jostle of the carts on the rusty railroad tracks. All it took was one dramatic wave of a dainty little black card, and they were quickly ushered to the most glamorous and well-maintained section of the train. Jameson had been suspiciously insistent on landing in New York from London and taking the train back to Texas instead of flying all the way back. Avery had been a bit confused at his abrupt suggestion but went along with it, not bothering to probe him, but she quickly had her brief moment of epiphany when she spotted the large, obnoxious logo sprawled over the outside of every cart. “Jameson”, it read, the bold, imposing letters stretching from the skies to the ground. There was no way anyone could miss it, especially not the owner’s son.

Jameson hadn’t said anything, the usual nonchalant expression ever-present on his face as he stared out the window while holding a paper bag full of warm blueberry scones from a pastry shop nearby the station that he planned to give to Xander. It was a compensation gift for not having contacted him during the games at Phoenix, and if Xander forgave him, then surely Grayson and Nash would, too. He had that fake joking look on his face again, the one that he always had when he was trying to downplay something or ignore the obvious topic. Avery’s eyes darted to his left hand, which was latched so tightly onto the armrest that his knuckles were turning white while his other one squeezed all the life out of the next of the pastry bag.

She sighed heavily, leaning back in her seat. “Why are we here, Jameson? I doubt your dad’s here, and I don’t think you’re in the mood to vandalize a harmless train, either.”

Jameson looked away, his gaze flickering across all the passengers aboard. “I honestly don’t know,” he finally said after a few beats, his eyes burning holes into the headrest of the seat in front of his.

Avery wasn’t sure what she’d felt when he’d said that? Was it empathy? Pity? No, no pity. She didn’t pity him. But what exactly was he looking for? It’s not like his father would be on a random train he owned, and Jameson surely knew that. And even if he was, what would he even want to say to him? What was the point? She didn’t get it.

Jameson sank into his seat. “I don’t understand, Heiress. I just saw his name and rushed to it. There was no point or thought behind it. I just didn’t feel satisfied at the end of Phoenix. But, then again, what the fuck did I even expect? A fist fight? Him saying that he actually cares that he has a son? Me?” His voice had gone quiet now, chest heaving up and down as he looked right at Avery. Silence.

She scooted over as close as possible to him whilst still remaining in her seat and set her hand on his nape, gently tugging his head close enough to press a tender kiss under his jawline. They stayed like that for a while until Avery suddenly pulled out two notepads and pencils and handed him one.

“Here”, she said, “draw me and I’ll draw you. Best portrait gets one of Xander’s scones. Loser has to explain to him why the “dozen” is not “dozenning”.”

Jameson’s eyes immediately lit up at, finally, the challenge. “You’re on, Heiress.” He immediately snatched the supplies out of her hands and got to work, He didn’t even have to look up to stare at Avery’s face’ he knew every angle and plane of it by heart after delicately tracing them with his index finger on countless sleepless nights. She couldn’t help but admire how the front locks of his hair drifted in front of his eyes as he bent forward. Avery couldn’t draw. Not in the slightest. Hell, even her kindergarten had told her that her car drawings looked “funny”. “Funny”? What was that even supposed to mean? Anyhow, she’d just suggested the idea to change the subject and take Jameson’s mind off of things.

And so Avery tried her best, though not expecting too much of a result. She drew the classic stick figure, slapping on something akin to a shirt and shorts. Finally, she drew some generous spikes atop the head to add a somewhat resemblance to hair. “Hmm. Maybe I should have left him bald.”

Soon enough, Jameson was done too, and they exchanged drawings. And of-fucking-course Jameson had produced a whole MASTERPIECE. Avery should have seen this coming; Hawthornes were good at everything, after all. He hadn’t even drawn her in the position she’d been in at the moment. No, he’d drawn her sleeping, her head half-resting on her arm, presumably from his perspective when he woke up beside her in the morning. At least he was kind enough not to draw the drool. It was a quick rough sketch, yet Avery clearly recognized herself. Jameson knew her face even better than she did, and it sent a warm tingle down in her heart and up in her cheeks.

A faint cough came from Jameson, probably trying to cover up a laugh to not hurt her feelings. “I won’t lie to you. It’s downright terrible,” he started, “but it’s the most adorable and the most endearing thing ever.” He stared at it a bit longer, then carefully folded it and placed it in his shirt’s breast pocket. Oh, how Avery adored it when he wore that shirt; it was soft and tight and outlined all his arm muscles and it showed off that slutty little waist he didn’t even have to wish for.

He carefully replaced a few strands of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear again and leaned down to give her a soft kiss on the forehead. An uncommon choice for Jameson, who always went for the lips or the neck, but welcome nonetheless, especially with the way it made Avery’s heart flutter.

“Thank you, o’ precious beloved of mine. For everything.”

And of course Avery hadn’t noticed the few crumbs of a stolen scone from the bag meant for Xander at the corners of his mouth.

Rumor has it that, to this day, Jameson still keeps the drawing, saving it preciously (and framed!) in his drawer, right beside a velvet-lined ring box.

[authorscurse]

Grayson Hawthorne Masterlist

[Main Masterlist]

Requests are open!

One shots coming soon

Series Love Leaves Scars Sypnosis: In which! Due to a letter calling her to go back to Texas Verity Rosewood goes back to the place she spent years trying to forget. While she is there, she tries to reconnect with the people she left. Her family, friends, and especially the person she loved most.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine?

Summary: Grayson's world is about to turn upside down.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehe

•○🌑○•

Grayson sighed, rubbing at his brows.

"So you're telling me we need to get Y/n's approval for this project?"

"Yes." Aaron Galathynius stared Grayson down until he looked away, frustrated.

"But she is missing. She won't answer my calls, and you refuse to give me her location. What am I supposed to do?"

Grayson was sure that even if she hadn't been ignoring him like her life depended on it, she would have rejected the idea without even considering.

Galathynius gave him an unamused glance before turning to the papers spread on the table. "You do know that's my daughter you're talking about."

Grayson refrained from letting him know exactly who he was talking to. That without Grayson's grandfather, the Galathynius family would still be some nobody business, hoping desperately to make it.

But he only stopped himself only because he was friends with Aaron's daughter and would do anything to talk to her again, and fighting with her father was probably the fastest way to make sure she never talked to him again.

Grayson sighed again, picking up his coat and shoving his arms through. "Call me when you are ready to answer my questions, and maybe we can proceed."

Turning, Grayson stalked over to the glass doors and stormed out, letting them swing shut behind him.

Once in his car, Grayson pulled out his phone, staring at her contact name. She would not pick up, Grayson knew. She would leave it ringing just like she had been doing over the past year.

But still, trying to contact her was better than wondering about what he had done wrong for his best friend to ignore him so.

So he tapped his screen, and stared until the call cut off by itself after ringing for a good few minutes.

Grayson sighed, turning to stare out the window at the scenery that passed by.

Gray knew sleeping with her was a bad idea, but he hadn't been thinking. He hadn't thought that it would get this serious when he refused to apologise.

But he'd just found out about Eve's betrayal a few hours before Y/n had visited him in his bedroom and he wasn't really thinking, and that led to things escalating faster than Grayson could understand. And the next thing he knew, he stared down at her limp and spent form in horror, sated with the pleasure he had delivered.

She had smiled at him softly before she realised he did not look happy. Then she had shot up, reaching out for him. He leaned back, staring at her before stumbling out of bed. He could see her heart breaking, but he could not let himself think too much about the fact that he was the reason she got hurt.

"This was a mistake."

He'd mumbled out the three words that had broken the friendship that the two of them shared, and as he walked away towards his wardrobe to clean up, he could have sworn he had heard her curse him.

Heard her heart shattering.

But he could not bring himself to care as he hurriedly put on clothes. When he'd stepped out, she was nowhere to be seen, the clothes he had ripped off her body and discarded haphazardly on the ground gone, the only thing left behind her lingering scent.

He had seen her once after that, coming out of his mother's house when he went to visit her regarding something about the foundation. She'd had tears in her eyes and her arms wrapped around her body, as if to protect herself. He had tried to talk, but of course, he had been ignored.

Now, as the Hawthorne house rolled into view, Grayson told himself what he was about to do was not wrong. That this decision was for the best.

"Zabrowski? I need you to find someone for me."

•○🌑○•

The apartment complex looked posh, but it was nothing compared to what Grayson was used to. Still, he had to give it to Y/n. She had always been good at picking out the perfect things.

Grayson stared at the elevator door, making sure he did not let his anticipation and nervousness show as he neared the fifteenth floor, where Y/n had taken residence in according to Zabrowski.

Zabrowski had also mumbled something about a child in passing, but Grayson had forgotten all about it until a few hours ago.

As the elevator doors dinged open and Grayson stepped out, he wondered if Y/n had finally found someone. Wondered if she had stopped just having hopeless crushes and actually acted on her feelings for whoever, that maybe she was now pregnant as he rang the bell of apartment 1502.

He got his answers the moment the door in front of him opened, and out peeked the head of his best friend.

"Y/n."

Her name escaped him on a thin exhale, a weird feeling spreading through Grayson's chest. He watched as her lips parted in shock, her eyes only widening a fraction.

"Grayson?"

He dared to smile at her. "It's me-"

A loud cry broke the moment between the two, and Grayson's interest piqued when Y/n whipped around, letting go of the door as she ran towards where the sound was coming from.

Grayson knew it was wrong of him to push the door open and look for himself. but he could not help the curiosity.

He watched as the simple white button up shirt she was wearing puffed a little with air, her leg muscles flexing and contracting as she moved, stared as her shirt rode up a little to show the denim shorts she was wearing.

He watched as she ran towards the couch set in front of a wall of glass, looking out over the forest of buildings, and bent to...

Pick up a baby.

Looking at her cooing softly at the child was a shock to Grayson's system as she had always said that she did not want kids, or at least not until she had seen the whole world and was far older.

Grayson was damn sure she could not have seen the world in just one year, so either she had changed plans, or the baby was unexpected.

Grayson also knew he had been her first time.

Horror spread through his chest when Y/n turned around a little, smiling down at the... blonde baby with grey eyes wearing a cute litte pink onesie, who giggled back at Y/n. Her mother.

Grayson could not take his eyes off of the child, and it was a long moment before Y/n turned to him fully, her eyes widening.

Grayson finally glanced up, meeting his best friend's eyes. His voice cracked when he finally spoke, his eye stinging.

"Mine?"

Y/n did not reply, stalking over to the door and slamming it shut in his face. The loud crash echoed in the empty hallway, the sound deafening, heartbreaking.

But Grayson did not pay it much attention, the only thing ringing in his ears his own voice asking the question and the unsaid answer.

Mine?

Mine.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist (only tagging people who i either know read these books or people who sked to be tagged in everything 😉) : @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @berryzxx

[inmyheaddd]

under/over - g. hawthorne

wc: 1.3k idk how i feel about this one, it hurts me to write angstt i hope you enjoy!!

im under water, but i’m over you.

you and grayson were everything. you completed each other — finding him helped you find yourself, and the same goes for him. to him, you were the sun. you lit everything up, your presence kept everything together, and you were the focus of his life. 

that was until about a year ago, when he broke up with you.

something about “different paths in life,” “not in the right headspace,” and “i’m sorry.”

grayson being grayson, of course brought you out to a nice dinner to break up with you. you were so excited, got all ready, and looked your best, only to leave feeling more ugly and defeated than you ever have.

“so it meant nothing to you? all of this?” he responded with silence, and in hindsight you wish he would’ve left it at just that. “it didn’t mean enough.”

it didn't mean enough.

you didn’t mean enough.

you’re not enough.

every day felt like a vinyl record on repeat, the only skips being the dreams you’d have when everything was still perfect. you’d long for them so much that once you’d wake up that you’d stay in bed all day, hoping they’d come back. but they didn’t. 

instead, your mind was swarmed with endless thoughts.  “was i too much?” “was i seriously so caught up in being with him, that i didn’t notice we were falling apart?” “what did i do wrong?” 

but that was all a year ago, you had put it behind you. you’re over it now.

whenever you remember the girl grayson made out of you after the breakup, you almost want to laugh. you pity her, you want to give her a hug, and you want to slap some sense into her at the same time.

you’re better now, though. you took down every single thing that grayson was remotely tied to in your room. letters, gifts, and those stupid photos that seemed to cover every wall in your house. your friends say to just find a guy to mess around with and forget about grayson. but how could you ever not think about him? he was everywhere. 

the pattering of your feet running against the cold concrete filled your ears, your heels in your hands, and grayson already starting to take off his suit jacket, 50 or so meters ahead of you. you and grayson had a secret hangout spot—not so secret, considering it was a whole house on the hawthorne property—but it was you and grayson's secret. his grandfather had built it way back for whatever reason but never paid it any mind. you doubted he even remembered it exists. “wait for me!” you almost scream-giggled. the sky was painted a dark blue, the sun long gone, contrasting with the lighted pool behind the house, inviting you and grayson in. 

you were a laughing mess, and the second you were both out of your formal clothes from the event you left early, you grabbed graysons hand and jumped into the pool. you had planned before the event that you were going to swim, hence the clothes under, and it was now approaching 2 in the morning.

you weren’t sure if what you and grayson were doing even counted as swimming. splashing water in each other's faces, swimming away from grayson only to be pulled back in, and laughing so loud that they could be heard from miles away.

you splash more water in graysons face, after he tried to kiss you and you pretended to lean in. when he pulled back, after being met with water rather than your lips, he was trying to act annoyed, but his lips that twitched upwards betrayed him. 

you laugh at his silence and start to swim away. you were a good swimmer, but grayson was out of this world. that, and your never ending laughter minimized your ability to swim properly. he caught up within seconds and caged you in at the edge of the pool, and you were standing in between his arms.

you push your arms against the water at a punishingly fast pace. you’ve been swimming for roughly 2 hours now. you would’ve been sure your limbs weren’t there anymore if you didn’t feel that dull ache.  1,2,3,4, up, 1,2,3,4 up. 

tobias hawthorne died, and it seemed like all the progress you made did too.

he had a will reading; you weren't going to go - if you had a choice, but your presence was required. this was your way of prepping for it. if you’re so focused on the pain of your muscles, you won’t be able to feel any other types of pain. right?

“sorry,” you managed to get out after moments of laughing on end. you placed your hands on the side of grayson’s face, to which he looked up at the sky and almost shook his head in disbelief. with an ever present smile on his face, he looked back at you, and then he kissed you. somehow even in chlorine-filled water and wet hair sticking to your face, the kiss was as perfect as ever. this time, you didn’t splash him. his arms that were by your side now hooked under your legs and were holding you up, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.  you pulled back from the kiss and rest your forehead on his.

nothing could ever ruin this moment.

“if we ever broke up, i don’t think i’d ever be able to swim again.” you confess, if you two weren’t as physically close as you were you doubt he would’ve even heard you. “if we ever broke up, i don’t think i’d be able to live with myself.” his tone matched yours. sincere, and full of love.

upon entering the cold room full of memories at every corner, with every person, you were hyper-aware of every single nerve in your body, feeling everything everywhere.

but suddenly, you went numb, you couldn’t feel your limbs, and you felt like you were watching your life from a 3rd-person perspective, floating outside. 

your eyes met icy blue ones.

for the first time in over a year.

you look at each other, and even with all your inner workings and feelings for him all blurred, you realize that you barely even knew who he was anymore. 

but you knew one thing: the look in his eyes was the same. the eyes you fell in love with. the ones that pulled you in deeper and deeper every day, and the ones that told you it was over before he said it himself. it seemed like everyone was looking at you and grayson, yet you weren’t looking at each other anymore. you weren’t going to look at him for the rest of the will reading. not even a glance. you undoubtedly feel his gaze on you, and it takes everything in you not to meet it. you spent all this time becoming a better you, and he was not going to ruin it. you promised yourself. it wasn’t until you heard what you had been left with—what you and grayson have been left with. 

“…and to y/n l/n and grayson hawthorne, i leave you the rosewood property. may you find yourself cherishing it like you once had.”

you broke the promise you made to yourself without thinking, and there was a different look in those icy blue eyes, you’d expect hatred—2 minutes earlier he found out he’d been snubbed of billions, but this look was different. shock? you weren’t shocked, for one, the man knowing about your clearly not-so-secret rendezvous wasn’t surprising. so what was it? his eyes looked so distant, but full of familiar memories that float around in your subconscious. you looked away, and the hawthorne brothers lives were ruined again in another mere 2 minutes. practically all of tobias’ wealth went to a girl they didn’t even know. 

“he left everything to her?” 

“who the hell is she?”

“there must be some mistake.” and that was the first time you heard his voice in roughly a year. funny, that sentence could be applied to a hell of a lot of things.

you tuned all the noise out. what the hell was that look he gave you? was it regret? resentment?  lov— no. you weren’t sure. but it plagued you for the rest of the day, simply standing up and leaving the room when everyone around you seemed to burn into flames. 

i’m under water, am i over you?

[7975348473]

Bury Your Past.

———————————————— A Rohan Angst Fic. (Desi style) Timeline: During the Grandest Game Includes: Rohan x Savannah, Rohan and Lyra (sibling dynamic), Lyra x Grayson Slight gore. ————————————————

“Congrats fellow contestants, you have made it to the next stage of The Grandest Game!!”

Rohan tried to keep his focus on, the ever so dramatic, Alexander Hawthorne instead of a certain blonde girl.

Savannah had been throwing Rohan in and out of orbit from the very beginning of the game and saying he actually enjoyed it would be a major understatement.

“For this level, you will be paired into groups of two.” Avery Grambs continued.

Rohan’s gaze betrayed him, though, because he immediately looked to Savannah from across the room at the mention of a pair.

And, to Rohan’s pleasant surprise, her gaze also found his before quickly looking away.

Rohan almost smirked.

He knew chances of them both actually being on the same team were in the negatives, mostly because Jameson Hawthorne took a liking in tormenting him.

He was immediately proven right.

“For duo one,” Jameson began, “Brady Daniels and Savannah Grayson.”

Rohan looked to Jameson and he could swear Jameson’s eyes were alight with something that could only be described as trouble.

Is he trying to make me jealous?, Rohan thought to himself as he glanced over to Brady, who was making casual conversation with Savannah.

It’s working.

“For duo two— Rohan and Lyra.”

Now that was peculiar.

Rohan met Lyra’s gaze and they both assessed one another.

Lyra Catalina Kane. Her posture is confident, flawless almost. She’s definitely a dancer.

The game masters informed everyone of their groups before moving on to the details.

“This game is quite simple, and who passes depends on how well you entertain us.” Jameson began.

“You will find a puzzle waiting for you in a room specially designed for it. Once solved, you’ll receive a file with a specific topic.” Avery continued.

“The challenge is, you will have to put together a proper performance to showcase said topic within the given time limit.” Xander said, wiggling his fingers for effect.

A collective murmur broke out among the contestants.

A performance? Thats easy, Rohan thought. He practically put on a performance at The Mercy every other day.

The trick was to control the audience.

“But there’s a catch kids.” Said Nash, his Texas drawl on full display, “the only time you will be working together is when you are deciding on the performance.”

Silence followed.

“Which means, only one player will solve the puzzle and only one player will perform.” Nash explained.

That… actually complicated things.

The game was designed in such a way that the two players would work separately but still have to depend on each other .

If the person solving the puzzle took too long, they wouldn’t be able to put together a proper performance.

Rohan began to think out who would do what in his group.

“Of course, we have already decided who will do what.” Jameson said, making Rohan pause. He could practically hear Jameson’s smirk.

They gave everyone their roles and the teams were then dispatched to find their puzzle.

“Rohan, you have to be quick to crack the code.” Lyra said, breaking the silence once they reached the room.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. I’m good at quick.”

Lyra didn’t look so sure as Rohan stepped into the puzzle room.

They had exactly 24 hours before the stage officially ended— before they had to perform.

Rohan looked around the puzzle room, calculating his next move.

Two hours, Rohan promised himself and then he went for it.

——————————————————

One hour, twenty six minutes and thirty eight seconds.

Rohan would have felt giddy about finishing before his set time if it weren’t for the fact that it was almost too easy.

As if it wasn’t the puzzle they should have been worrying about, but the performance.

Rohan strode to the huge ballroom, where Lyra and him had agreed to meet.

Lyra jumped up off her seat when she saw him walk through the door.

“You’re done already??” She said, and Rohan could tell that she was worrying about the same thing.

Too quick. Too easy.

Rohan simply showed her the file he had obtained in reply.

Lyra raised a brow at him before plopping back down and signalling for him to sit down too.

Rohan did. Lyra snatched the file from his hand and ripped it open.

“Woah there kitty, calm down.” Rohan said.

If he was being honest, he only wanted to see how Lyra would react to the nickname he had come up with, inspired by her middle name.

Rohan was not disappointed.

The vivid glare she sent his way was plenty satisfying.

“Do not call me that.”

“Why not? I think it suits your personality quite well.”

“If you do not shut up, I will have your tongue.”

“Oof- bettered shut up then.”

Lyra rolled her eyes and Rohan gave a small smile in return.

She’s fun.

An immense sense of nostalgia suddenly hit Rohan. It was too sudden, he hadn’t seen it coming.

And he was never caught off guard.

Rohan quickly calmed his senses, focusing on the matter at hand.

“The file says we have to make a performance on the classical dance/s of India.” He said.

Lyra looked up at him, “You opened it without me?”

“Of course.”

“Bastard.”

“Kitty.”

Rohan could swear he heard a small ‘fuck you’ but he’d ignore that for now.

“Of India??” She asked, while reading the file. Rohan nodded.

“Wait— you’re half Indian right?” She looked up at him, Rohan didn’t deign that with a response.

“You have the skin tone, and the name.” She didn’t seem to stop.

“I might be genetically half Indian but I am purely British at the heart and soul. Sorry to disappoint.” He said, which was true.

Rohan remembered nothing of his childhood in India. Nothing of his family or home. Just one memory.

A memory he did not appreciate having.

Lyra shot him a skeptical look, Rohan replied with a smile that said ‘do not pry further or else.’

Either Lyra didn’t take the hint or she didn’t care.

“Still, you must know something about the topic??” She said.

Rohan took one mini second to calm himself before replying, “Unfortunately, I don't. I'm guessing you don't know much either then?”

A smug expression broke out on Lyra's face as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her hands, “Now, I didn't say that did I?”

As it turns out, Lyra was a dancer. A ballerina, to be more specific. But she had pursued many different dance styles before she settled for ballet. And they were in luck that Kathak just happened to be one of them.

“Kathak?” He asked.

“Kathak.” She affirmed.

Rohan flipped the word over in his head when Lyra spoke up, “Um- wait. There's something else written in the file-”

Rohan waited for her to read it aloud. When she didn't, he simply took the file from her hands.

Oh.

No wonder Lyra didn't read it, the phrase was written in a different script- a different language.

घर मोरे परदेसिया

Rohan knew that text. He knew that language.

He ran his fingers over the words as he closed his eyes, skimming through his memories- trying to find something useful.

“Do you have a pen? Or anything to write with.” Rohan asked, as a memory began to surface. She pulled a pen out and handed it to him.

Rohan wrote on his hand.

Ghar More Pardesiya

He stared at what he had written for a few moments.

Rohan had been taught from the moment he'd joined The Mercy to learn to let go. Let go of his attachments, and most importantly, to let go of his past.

To act as if his Indian nationality didn't exist.

The last thing he was expecting was to remember something of it.

“So, do we know what... this means?” Rohan asked, pushing away his thoughts habitually.

Lyra stared at his hand for a second before her eyes turned alight, “Oh my gosh! Ghar More Pardesiya! Its a song!”

Rohan couldn't help but smile at her pronunciation. Lyra glared at him.

“As if you could pronounce it any better, British bastard.”

She had a point. Rohan could not pronounce it properly. But it still sounded funny for some reason. As if some part of him still remembered how to properly say it.

That was when a tile suddenly disappeared, leaving an opening in the floor. Out of it came a seemingly ancient music player, a music disc, a dress and some weird rope with a lot of... bells on it?

Rohan eyed the weird things as Lyra went to grab it, mumbling something like, “Leave it to the Hawthornes to have a removable tile in their floor.”

They took the appliances and set them on a table.

“So, the game plan is for me to make up a choreography with what little I remember of Kathak and for you to?” Lyra asked.

“For me to watch and criticize you” Rohan replied with a smile.

Lyra rolled her eyes.

“Do you know what that rope-thing is? An instrument?” It was Rohan's turn to ask this time.

Lyra gave him an unimpressed look, “They're called ghungaroo, kind of like anklets but for dancers only.” She explained.

Rohan had no idea how she would wear that... ghungaroo, without it falling off or something but Lyra didn't seem worried.

Rohan inserted the disc in the music player and the music began to play, he took a seat while Lyra walked on over to the middle of the room.

She stood in one place, oddly still as the music played.

Rohan had seen many people through out his life in The Mercy, many people who were going through possibly the shittiest moments in their lives.

So he knew immediately the expression Lyra had on her face. He recognized it out of habit.

She's hesitating.

Rohan could tell Lyra was a dancer, anybody with two eyes could, actually. It was in the way she moved, so why was she hesitating to dance now? To let go like her body wanted to?

Rohan knew they didn't have time for this, "Lyra."

He said it as a reminder, to drag her back to the present.

Lyra met his eyes and for the first time since Rohan had met her, she looked slightly vulnerable.

"You know what's at stake here." Rohan said, his voice grave.

Lyra's gaze did not waver for even a moment as she levelled him with her eyes alone, "That I do, bastard."

She turned away from him and closed her eyes, seemingly isolating herself. Just her and the music.

Suddenly she smacked her feet hard against the ground, but it didn't produce a pounding sound. No, it sounded sharp, tight- like a slap to the ground.

Incredibly satisfying.

Rohan watched as she began to twirl- once, twice, then faster. She pushed off the ground with one feet and spun on the heel of the other.

Something about the scene felt all to familiar to Rohan, almost like coming home. And that threw him off.

He had no home.

Rohan took a deep breath in order to try and steady his thoughts.

You are in control. He said mentally, an order.

Yet he couldn't help but lose himself to the music, to the familiar pattern of the way Lyra was twirling and moving. It was almost like the memory demanded its presence be known.

"Goddammit." Lyra whispered, which broke Rohan's train of thoughts.

Lyra had been trying to spin on beat for the last few minutes but couldn't get it right.

Rohan observed as she tried again, ever so relentless.

The pattern she was following was quite simple- one half spin and then two full turns. But it didn't sit right with the beat.

"Try two half-spins, take one second to catch your breathe, and then do the two full spins." Rohan spoke before he could process his words himself. Lyra froze too before turning to him.

Lyra's eyes seemed to ask the same question he had in mind.

How do you know, Rohan?

She saved him the trouble of thinking up an answer. The music began to play again and this time she tried his way.

Half-spin, half-spin, pause. Spin, spin, stop.

It fit perfectly and Lyra met his eyes looking down right delirious. Her smile was surprisingly contagious, because Rohan caught himself giving her a small smile to.

And then the immense sense of nostalgia hit him again.

Get a grip. He gave himself a mental warning.

And so Rohan watched as Lyra danced, repeating the choreography over and over again until she looked like a seasoned Kathak dancer.

By the end of it all, Rohan reached a singular conclusion.

We are not going to lose.

————————————————————

Rohan was now seated in the other huge dance room, where all the contestants were expected to meet once the time was up.

Lyra was changing into her costume while he waited. And, of course, he passed his time in the new way he found quite appealing.

Staring at Savannah Grayson.

It seemed Brady was going to do the performing for the two and judging by the way Savannah looked just about read to commit genocide, Rohan concluded that they were not prepared.

I'm afraid I cannot relate, Savvy.

That was when Grayson Hawthorne approached him.

"Rohan." He greeted.

“Grayson Hawthorne, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Rohan asked.

“I was wondering where Lyra might be?” Grayson replied, his tone giving nothing away.

Oh? Well, this is certainly interesting.

“And why are you worried about my partner?” Rohan asked, exaggerating the last bit.

He took quite a liking to testing people’s patience.

“Why I’m looking for a contestant is none of your business .” Grayson replied coldly, noticeably replacing the ‘my partner’ phase.

Rohan was beyond entertained.

That was when Lyra chose to walk in and all eyes turned to her.

She was now wearing the dress she had received earlier. It nearly touched her ankles and moved at the lightest sway of her body.

But if her gaze met Grayson’s, Rohan didn’t realize.

No, Rohan was now too focused on something else. A sound.

With every step Lyra took, a soft jingling sound followed.

The ghungaroo.

Rohan didn’t like how that sound seemed to reach deep into his soul and tug. He took a steadying breath.

Get a grip. Now. Rohan was beyond frustrated with himself, he had been out of it since the start of this stage.

If he kept this up, The Mercy would slip from his hands as well as his life.

“Hi asshole.” Lyra greeted Grayson first, he took a second before replying.

“You look nice.”

Lyra looked slightly taken aback but Rohan was not about to third wheel.

“Hello to you too, kitty-”

“Stupid British Bastard. If you call me that one more time, I swear to the heavens above, I will commit murder.”

The look Lyra was giving him only seemed to further tell Rohan that she would do just that. With no hesitation.

But it was the weird face Grayson was making that Rohan found amusing.

“Good evening everyone!! I believe all the contestants are here now, so lets begin.” Declared Avery.

And so the show began. It started with Savannah and Brandy, he was performing a comedy show of some sort.

No one was laughing though. Rohan wasn't sure if it was because the comedian was humorless or the audience was.

The performances kept going until, alas, it was their turn.

“You’ll do well.” Said Rohan, his own way of saying good luck. Not giving them the choice of going wrong.

Lyra glanced back at him, “I don’t do well with orders.” Before walking to stage.

The ghungaroo sounded again. Steady and sharp.

The music, so familiar to the both of them now, began to play and Lyra immediately lost herself to it.

But this time there was something different, something off-putting. The more he stared at Lyra's dance, the more he felt it.

Breathe.

Rohan felt the ground beneath his feet disappear as he quickly took a seat on a nearby chair. He tried to steady his breathe.

What is this? A panic attack?

He fought to gain control of himself before everything blacked out.

————————————————————

“Rohan!”

A woman shouted from somewhere behind him. Her accent was slightly different, though. She called him ‘Ro-hun’ instead of ‘Row-haan’.

It felt comforting.

“What is it, maiya?”

That wasn’t English, not even close. And what, rather who, is ‘maiya’?

“Come here quickly, your janak will be home soon!” The ‘Maiya’ character replied.

What in the world did ‘janak’ mean?

Little Rohan raced towards the voice and there stood a beautiful woman. She shared Rohan’s features from the jet black hair to the deep brown eyes.

Rohan was a stunning copy of her.

“Janak is coming home?! Really??” Asked the little boy, sounding far too enthusiastic.

The woman smiled in response, “Yes. He is.”

Rohan’s mood suddenly changed, “But maiya, janak said I should have learned English by the time he returns—”

The rest of the sentence was left unspoken.

It seemed that little Rohan still couldn’t speak any other language apart from the foreign one he was speaking in.

“Don’t worry, Rohan. He will be perfectly happy just to see you and your sister, but if you want to satisfy his wishes then… just call him father.” She replied.

Rohan’s brows scrunched up, “F-father?”

Maiya smiled, “Yes, father.”

————————————————————

“Oh my god, would you hurry bhaiya??” Screeched a little girl.

Rohan recognised that endearment. ‘Bhaiya’, in other words, elder brother.

“Shut up Rukmini, I’m ready.” Rohan snapped. Snapping at the girl came so easily to young Rohan, one would think it was his hobby.

Rukmini, with her curly black hair and brown eyes, beamed at her brother before taking his hand and pulling him along.

“Why are you so excited?? It’s literally just Durga Puja.” Rohan asked, though he sounded more pissed than curious.

“Exactly. Its Durga Puja. We get to pray to the holy mother,” Rukmini turned to Rohan before continuing.

“That, andddddd maiya is going to be performing.”

Rohan’s entire demeanour changed with that one statement, “What?! Maiya’s performing?” He practically screamed.

Rukmini nodded excitedly.

And soon, it was Rohan that was dragging the two towards the mandir.

(A/N: Mandir means temple :D, where the puja/praying happens.)

————————————————————

Rohan had never been enamored by anything excluding two moments of his life. Meeting his father for the first time and when his little sister was born.

But watching his mother wear her ghungaroo for the first time was an other worldly experience in its own.

“Maiya, will you show me how you dance today?” Rohan asked, looking up to his mother with glowing eyes.

The woman gave him a soft smile, “Yes I will.”

Rohan quickly fled to the side of the room and took a seat, bracing himself for the beauty he was sure he’d see soon.

And he was immediately proven right.

Rohan’s mother was a Kathak dancer, and she moved like the wind itself.

It was as if the world fell into her control as she danced, with her dress moving only when she wanted and the air somehow making the dance more enchanting.

But it wasn’t just the dance that mesmerized Rohan, it was the beautiful jingling noise that followed. The sharp tinkling of her ghungaroo.

He stared at her feet as she spun over and over again.

Her hands conveyed their own story as she moved while her expressions changed every time the music did.

When she finally stopped, Rohan asked, “Maiya, are you an apsara? Do you dance in Indra’s court?”

Apsaras, celestial dancers who dance in god’s court.

Rohan’s mother laughed heartily, “No Rohan, of course not. Though, your sister might be~” She teased.

It seems she knew how Rukmini always managed to annoy Rohan.

“Rukmini?? No way!”

——————————————————

Rohan sat on the floor with Rukmini in his arms, sobbing.

He was glaring at the door, or rather the voices coming from the other side.

“You cannot do this to us. We are family, Krish!” Rohan recognised that voice as his mothers.

She, too, sounded like she had been crying. That only made Rohan’s anger bubble up more.

“I have to do this, Lakshmi. Please. You have to understand.” The unknown man reasoned with her.

“Understand?! Understand what? You have went and put our children’s lives on the line! You’re their janak for heavens sake!!” A broken sob escaped her lips as she finished the sentence.

Rukmini only seemed to cry more after that and Rohan tightened his hold on her.

He wouldn’t cry. Not for the likes of that man.

“Its for the better good, Lakshmi, please.” The man said, but this time he wasn’t pleading.

He sounded more demanding this time, as if he was tired of explaining to her. As if he was tired of her.

A cold silence followed before Lakshmi, Rohan’s mother, met Krish’s eyes.

“Get out.” She said.

The man stood there looking blankly at her, “Lakshmi, wha-”

“I SAID GET OUT!!” She yelled, her tone so sharp it could cut stones.

Rukmini turned her head to Rohan’s chest and held onto him for dear life. Rohan felt his own eyes burning.

There was silence and then the smashing of glass.

Rohan’s blood ran cold and Rukmini went numb in his arms.

“You dare try to throw me out of my own house?! The audacity-”

Rohan didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He couldn’t.

All he remembered was the emotion he was feeling, the rush that was flowing through his veins for the first time.

Real, raw bloodlust.

The memory was extremely vague and blurry.

All he could remember was snapping out of his trance on top of his ‘janak’. Rohan held a bloodied glass bottle in one hand and his other rested on his father’s neck.

He had murdered a man.

Rukmini had taken hold of his hand and was begging him to stop while his mother stood on the other side.

A trail of blood ran down the side of her face and she looked shocked, destroyed.

It was that look on his mother’s face that finally got him crying.

‘I killed my own father. My mother’s hurt. Rukmini’s crying.’ He thought over and over again until finally one theory prevailed.

‘I’m a monster.’

And then Rukmini was hugging him.

—————————————————————

“Maiya? What are you doing up?” Asked Rohan, who was half asleep.

His mother’s eyes looked blank. Emotionless. Her normal comforting spark gone.

“This is for the better, Rohan.” She said finally. Her gaze finding his before landing on Rukmini.

“Its better for you, beta.” She repeated.

‘Beta’, son.

Rohan rubbed his half closed eyes and yawned, “What do you mean, maiya?”

She simply wrapped him up in her arms and gave him a soft smile. Lulling him back to sleep, gently.

“Maa~” Said Rohan, his eyes closed.

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

There was no reply.

———————————————————

Rohan remembered feeling a rhythmic rocking while he was asleep. As if someone was walking with him in their arms.

Then he heard the humming, the familiar tune his mother always hummed.

His mother was there. He was safe.

Right?

She walked slowly, almost too lightly on her feet. He heard her ghungaroo then.

Why was she wearing them now? Where was Rukmini?

The humming never seized.

Not while she walked with him in her arms, not when they came to an abrupt stop, not when he touched the water, not when everything seemed too dark.

Not when he sunk lower and lower, not when his chest constricted, not when he tried to cry for help.

Not when he stopped breathing.

Despite it all, Rohan remembered only one thing.

'I'm a monster. A devil.'

And some part of him whispered.

"You deserve this."

——————————————————

“Rohan?”

Ro-hun.

“Rohan!!”

Ro-hun,

“ROHAN!!”

Row-haan.

Rohan jolted awake, his eyes wide open as he quickly sat up. He was breathing hard, and his gaze was unfocused.

What was that? What the fuck?

He felt like he was drowning all over again.

“Eyes on me, British.” Savannah Grayson. Rohan's eyes met her beautiful grey ones and he felt some air return to his lungs.

His brain finally caught up with his surroundings, his current situation.

All eyes were on him. The Game Masters all stood to one side, slightly shocked by Rohan's sudden awakening. Savannah stood on the other, she held his hand in hers and her eyes looked... glassy almost?

Grayson stood not too far from Savannah, assessing Rohan's state and Lyra stood at the end of the bed he was laying in, looking worried.

Rohan mentally cursed himself. If the proprietor saw him like this- so vulnerable, in front of an entire crowd, he could kiss The Devil's Mercy goodbye.

Time to get my head back in the game.

He turned to Savannah, “Savvy, love, I understand you like me, but you're strangling my hand.”

Everybody looked absolutely dumbfounded. What was wrong with this guy??

Savannah immediately let go of his hand and stomped out of, what he could now tell was, his room.

Lyra sent him a glare of her own before exiting the room as well. Everyone gave their condolences and asked their questions before following suit.

The moment everyone was gone Rohan collapsed on his bed again, laying on his back with his hands spread out beside him.

He tried to sort out his thoughts.

Krish. Lakshmi, and most of all, Rukmini.

Are they still alive? Is Rukmini alright? Does she even remember me? Does mai- no. Does Lakshmi miss me?

Rohan took a deep breath as the words of the proprietor repeated in his mind, “Bury the past, Rohan.”

He calls me Row-haan. No. Bury the past. Bury it.

Rohan took a sharp breath. He would bury the past as he had done from the age of five.

He would remain in control, he would win this game, and he would have The Mercy.

Yet, as he turned off the light in his room and closed his eyes, he could hear the faint sound of somebody humming and the jingling of ghungaroos.

Rohan silenced his mind, putting a stop to the delusional noises he was hearing, but one thought remained.

Why, why, why?

————————————————— OKAY. Honestly, I kind of went overboard with the whole thing- I didn't plan on this much lore. ToT (does this count as a cliffhanger??-) Idk where the plot went either?? But, I think its a good read. (PLS TELL ME IT WAS GOOD AH- I WORKED LIT DAYS ON THIS.)

The original plot was just abt Rohan- Lyra's sibling dynamic, and Kathak awakening smth in him. The lore? Completely additional- just came with the flow.

ANYWAYS, PLS READ - @lyrakanefanatic @inkstainsonmyfingertips @musiwashere @alwaysthefangirl etc.

PS If any of u are interested in Kathak, heres a Kathak choreo on the song mentioned in the fic :DD (The song is a banger btw, do listen.)

((The dance is not mine ofc, credits to Ankita di)

[luckaonmyside]

Grayson Hawthorne HCS!!

When he hit puberty he shot up from 5'4 to 5'11 in a year! He was really lanky and awkward for like three months then he started to BEEF up.

He freckles like CRAZY (Jameson does too) but he hates it so he avoids the sun like crazy.

If you do catch him in the sun, his grey eyes have just the tiniest hint of green.

He documented his life very religiously, keeping an extensive library of journals that he hides in his room under the floor.

The rest of this stuff might be a little occ because my brain likes to adopt book characters and give me brain wormies

I like to think that Grayson had a creative side that Tobias suppressed to mold him into the perfect heir. But before that he did all sorts of crafts, pottery, painting*, origami, scrapbooking.

I hated that Mrs JLB (love her) had Grayson drop out of HARVARD. One of the most prestigious schools in the USA. Grayson Hawthorne who doesn't "give up" or "back down" from anything??? He is so flipping hard headed he would not do that!! Anyways I think he would have transferred to a different program though (my personal fav choice is architectural design)

*(I have separate angst thoughts about this)