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someone-will-remember-us · 1 month ago

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A total of 51 men are on trial over their alleged attacks on Gisèle Pelicot, recruited by her then-husband Dominique Pelicot, who has admitted drugging and raping her.

The 50 men accused of rape and assault alongside Dominique Pelicot are aged between 26 and 74. They include a nurse, a journalist, a prison warden, a local councillor, a soldier, lorry drivers and farm workers. They each face up to 20 years in prison.

In total, 49 are accused of rape, one of attempted rape and one of sexual assault. Five others are also accused of possessing child abuse imagery.

Most lived in south-eastern France within a 60km radius of the village of Mazan, where the Pelicots lived. Six have previous convictions for domestic violence, two have convictions for sexual violence. A total of 23 have a criminal record for offences such as drunk-driving and possession of drugs.

Some of the accused men have admitted rape but said they did not set out with this intention, and have apologised in court to Gisèle Pelicot, 72, a grandmother and former logistics manager. Others have denied the charge of rape, saying they believed they were taking part in a game by the couple.

Gisèle Pelicot was unknowingly sedated and raped by her former husband, Dominique Pelicot, 71, who crushed sleeping tablets and anti-anxiety medication into her food and drinks and invited men to rape her over a nine-year period from 2011 to 2020.

Pelicot has admitted the charges against him and said that for almost a decade he was in contact with men on an online chatroom titled “without her knowledge” where he would organise for strangers to come to the couple’s home

“I am a rapist, like the others in this room,” Pelicot told the court.

The case is being heard by a panel of five professional judges in the southern city of Avignon and runs until December. Gisèle Pelicot has waived her right to anonymity in order for the trial to be held in public, saying: “Shame must change sides.”

As the men appear in court over the course of the four-month trial, the Guardian will detail their profiles and testimony.

Cyrille D, 54

Trained as a butcher, Cyrille D is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot in her home in September 2019. Cyrille D’s partner, the mother of his children, was on holiday at the time. He said he was sexually frustrated in his relationship and had gone on to the online chatroom to console himself.

In court, Cyrille D admitted rape, saying he had realised later that he had not gained Gisèle Pelicot’s consent, only her husband’s. He said Gisèle Pelicot was clearly unconscious but that her husband had been “insistent”. He said: “I’m sorry, I was naive, a little stupid, an idiot.” He told the court that while in prison on remand he had understood that “women do not belong to men”.

Gisèle Pelicot’s lawyer said video evidence had showed that the alleged rape by Cyrille D had put her life in danger as she had risked not being able to breathe.

Cyrille D detailed a violent childhood at the hands of his alcoholic father, who he said would wait outside school with a meat cleaver to attack him and threaten him. “My father was Hitler,” he told the court. After a brutal public beating by his father outside school, Cyrille D was placed in care as a teenager.

Lionel R, 44

A worker at the Pelicots’ local supermarket in Carpentras, Lionel R was a married father of three when he made contact with Dominique Pelicot. In court, Lionel R admitted raping Gisèle Pelicot on 2 December 2018 at her home, but he said he had not intended to commit rape.

“Since I never obtained Mrs Pelicot’s consent, I have no choice but to accept the facts,” he told the court. Turning to Gisèle Pelicot, he said: “I am sorry, I can only imagine the nightmare you’ve lived through … and I am part of this nightmare.” He said: “I never told myself: ‘I will rape that woman” but he admitted: “I’m guilty of rape.” He added that he should have left when he saw she was unconscious, and that it was cowardly of him not to have said anything.

The court heard that Dominique Pelicot had previously brought an unsuspecting Gisèle Pelicot shopping at the supermarket so that Lionel R could see if he was attracted to her.

Lionel R told the court he had been sexually abused at the age of 12 to 13 by the president of the pétanque club in his village.

Jacques C, 72

A former fire officer who had worked as a truck driver and then owned a pizzeria, Jacques C had been married for 25 years and had two children.

He told the court he denied rape. He said he had been “naive” and he thought that Gisèle Pelicot would wake up and it was a game by the couple.

Jacques C admitted touching Pelicot, but said there had been no penetration and therefore no rape.

Jacques C told the court he considered that his religious education had made him a “giving person” who did good and respected women. He said he loved women “in all their complexity”.

Jean-Pierre M, 63

A former lorry driver for an agricultural cooperative in southern France, Jean-Pierre M is not accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot. Instead, he is accused of using the same technique to drug and rape his own wife, and organising for Pelicot to rape her with him.

Described in court as a “disciple” of Pelicot, he admitted sedating his wife, with whom he had five children, and enlisting Pelicot to rape her.

The two men made contact in the online chatroom called “without her knowledge”. Pelicot is alleged to have provided sedatives to drug the man’s wife, explained the method and travelled to rape the woman himself.

Twelve rapes of Jean-Pierre’s wife are alleged to have taken place between 2015 and 2020. Jean-Pierre told the court that he admitted the charges.

Pelicot admitted raping Jean-Pierre’s wife on several occasions and said he regretted his actions. He said he had cut contact with the couple after Jean-Pierre’s wife woke up during one of the assaults while he was in her bedroom.

The court heard how Jean-Pierre’s childhood in the French countryside was marked by extreme poverty, extreme violence and he was the victim of sexual abuse within his family. “I was raised by pigs in the woods,” he had told his children.

Joan K, 26

A soldier in the French military, Joan K is the youngest man on trial. He was 22 at the time of his alleged raping of Gisèle Pelicot on two separate visits to her home in 2019 and 2020.

He told the court: “I’m a rapist because the law says I am” – but he said he had not intended to rape and “at the time I did not know what consent was”.

He said he had been invited to the couple’s home by Dominique Pelicot for an encounter and had not asked for Gisèle Pelicot’s consent, saying he learned only in prison what consent was.

He said he had found it strange that Gisèle Pelicot was snoring, and that he knew she was unconscious but he had not known that meant she had not consented.

In November 2019, Joan K was absent for the premature birth of his daughter on the night he was accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot for the first time.

Born in French Guiana, he joined his brother in Avignon when he was 16 before enlisting in the army. The court heard he had lived on the streets as a teenager and three of his brothers had died. He lost his army job when he was arrested. He was described by a psychologist as a chronic user of alcohol and cannabis, “depressive, impulsive and solitary”.

Hugues M, 39

A tiler, motorbike enthusiast and father of two, Hugues M is accused of the attempted rape of Gisèle Pelicot a few days before his then girlfriend’s birthday in October 2019. He denies the charge. He said he did not know Gisèle Pelicot was drugged and had not looked at her face, just her body.

His ex-partner Emilie O, 33, who met him online and lived with him for five years, told the court she feared she may have been drugged and sexually assaulted by him herself. “I don’t know if I was raped,” she said. “It’s terrible. I will always have doubts.”

She told the court that one night in 2019 she had woken up to find her partner attempting to assault her. She launched a police complaint, but it was dismissed for “lack of material evidence”. She told the court she had experienced “dizziness” between September 2019 and March 2020, but investigators did not detect any substances that might have affected her at the time.

Husamettin D, 43

A married father who had given up part-time work to care for his disabled son, Husamettin D is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot in June 2019. He denied the charge in court saying: “I don’t accept being called a rapist, I’m not a rapist.”

The court heard that Husamettin D had made contact with Dominique Pelicot in the chatroom and had gone to the Pelicots’ home the same night, telling his own wife he was going out.

Pelicot had told him he was looking for an “Arab” man for his wife – Husamettin, born in Turkey, used the online pseudonym “Karim”.

He admitted that Gisèle Pelicot “seemed dead”, with her leg dangling oddly, but he said he had thought it was a scenario or game and that she was pretending.

He said Dominique Pelicot had said his wife was in agreement. He said he had not known she was drugged.

The court heard that Husamettin D had become addicted to cannabis from the age of 11, and had lived in children’s homes. In 2000, he was convicted for dealing drugs.

Fabien S, 39

A man with 16 previous convictions ranging from armed robbery and drug dealing to domestic violence and sexual assault of a minor, Fabien S said he admitted the charge of raping Gisèle Pelicot in August 2018. But he said he had not gone to the Pelicots’ home with the intention of raping her.

“I didn’t go there to rape her. I didn’t know I was supposed to rape her, but I recognise the facts,” he said, adding he had “not paid attention” to whether or not she had consented.

He said he wasn’t interested in a scenario where a woman was unconscious because he liked to hear women scream. He apologised to Gisèle Pelicot in court.

The court heard that Fabien S allegedly raped Gisèle Pelicot in her dining room. Asked how this was possible, Dominique Pelicot said he had put drugs in her meal and carried her unconscious to the dining room table.

The court heard that Fabien S had been sexually abused by his father from the age of two, then placed in different foster families where he faced further violence and sexual abuse, and that he was admitted to psychiatric care at the age of 16. From 18 to 28 he lived on the streets in Toulon as an alcoholic.

Mathieu D, 53

The father of two had worked as baker for 25 years before having to leave his job because of an intolerance to wheat.

He is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot with Dominique Pelicot on 3 October 2020. He admitted the facts, saying he was high on the drug MDMA at the time and thought it was a game with a married couple.

Mathieu D accepted later that Gisèle Pelicot had not been in a fit state to consent. “I can’t deny it was rape,” he said.

The court heard that Mathieu D’s stepfather had been violent. Mathieu D told investigators he was inspired by Buddhism and “the balance of karmas”.

Andy R, 37

An unemployed agricultural labourer and married father of two, Andy R has two domestic violence convictions and is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot at her home on New Year’s Eve 2018.

He said he did not intend to rape Gisèle Pelicot, telling the court: “As the husband had given me permission, in my mind she agreed to it.”

Andy R arrived at the Pelicots’ home an hour after first making contact online with Dominique Pelicot on New Year’s Eve. He said he had “nothing else to do” that night because his brothers hadn’t invited him to their New Year’s Eve party. He said he had thought it was a sexual “game” between the Pelicots.

The court heard he had been addicted to alcohol since he was 13 or 14, and was a regular user of cocaine.

Simone M, 42

A builder, former soldier and father of five, Simone M lived on the next street to the Pelicots in the village of Mazan. He is the only alleged rapist whom Gisèle Pelicot recognised when she was shown video evidence by police.

She told the court he had come into their living room once to discuss cycling with her husband. “I saw him now and then in the bakery; I would say hello. I never thought he’d come and rape me,” she said.

The former mountain infantryman made contact with Dominique Pelicot in the online chatroom before realising they lived less than 200 metres apart. Simone M lived opposite the tennis club where Dominique Pelicot played. “Things were going badly with my ex-wife, I was looking for love, an encounter to calm myself,” Simone M told the court.

Dominique Pelicot suggested Simone M first come to the house during the day “to see how beautiful my wife is”, adding: “If she asks, say you’ve come to discuss my bike.”

Simone M is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot on the night of 14 November 2018. He denies rape. He said he thought Gisèle Pelicot was only pretending to be asleep and would wake up. “I’m not a rapist,” he told the court.

His ex-wife told the court he had once threatened her with an axe.

Simone M is from New Caledonia, where he grew up. As a teenager he was abused and raped by a man his parents had sent him to live with as a labourer. The court heard he had a complex about his penis size and needed constant reassurance. He had debts and periods of alcoholism.

He has a 15-month-old daughter with his current partner, who told the court she stands by him.

Thierry Po, 61

A refrigeration specialist and father of three from Bouches-du-Rhône in southern France, Thierry Po is also charged with possession of hundreds of child abuse images found on a USB stick after his arrest for the alleged rape of Gisèle Pelicot. He admits those charges but denies raping Gisèle Pelicot on 21 August 2020.

He said hadn’t seen anything abnormal about the night he went to the Pelicots’ home, believing he was meeting a couple. “I always thought Mrs Pelicot would wake up,” he said. “She wasn’t cold, she wasn’t dead, her skin was soft.”

He said he had not sought Gisèle Pelicot’s consent because he had lots of experience of encounters with couples when it was mostly the man who gave consent for the woman. He said he had had three “major” previous experiences where a husband had invited him to have sex with a wife and “she’ll be asleep, she doesn’t want to know, we’ll film it”. In one case, the woman had woken up. In two cases, he had left without seeing the women’s faces. He said he couldn’t tell if those women had been asleep or not.

He told the court: “After I leave prison, I’d like to create an association to get men like me to understand that consent is important. I’d go to swingers’ clubs and say: “Don’t forget to get consent!”

Jérôme V, 46

The former grocery store worker and father of three is one of the few accused men who admit the charges of raping Gisèle Pelicot with the knowledge that she was drugged. He told the expert psychiatrist in the case that he was aware she had not consented.

He allegedly went to the Pelicots’ home six times between March and June 2020 to rape her during the first Covid lockdown in France. A volunteer in the fire service, he lived 30 minutes’ drive away.

He told the court: “I didn’t keep going back because rape mode was my thing, but because I couldn’t control my sexuality.” He said he was at first attracted by the idea of having an inert body at his disposal and being free to act however he wanted.

He said his life was defined by sexual urges, and he was regularly unfaithful to partners because they “couldn’t meet my demands” and he tried extreme practices to break the “monotony”. He said he paid “less and less” attention to his partners.

Jérôme V said he was addicted to sex and that Pelicot took advantage of that. In court, looking over at Gisèle Pelicot, he said he was ashamed “to have done bad to someone who seems so pure”. At his home, a list of 89 names of sexual partners were found. “I needed to count my conquests,” he said.

His current partner told the court she stood by him and visited him regularly in prison.

He said he was never supported or protected by his parents. He was bullied at school and once forcibly stripped in public by other pupils at high school.

Thierry Pa, 54

A former builder who turned to alcohol when his 18-year-old son died in a road collision, Thierry Pa was an inpatient on a psychiatric ward after suffering from depression when investigators identified him as allegedly raping Gisèle Pelicot several months earlier in 2020.

He had separated from his wife a few weeks before his alleged rape of Gisèle Pelicot in July 2020 and had left his family home, saying he was unable to bear the photographs and memories of his son.

He said he had contacted Dominique Pelicot online for an encounter with a couple. He denied rape, saying: “I didn’t set out from my house saying: ‘I’m going to rape someone.’” He said: “I don’t understand how she didn’t feel anything, didn’t realise.” He said he thought Pelicot may have drugged him, and that he was manipulated and brainwashed by Pelicot.

His ex-wife told the court the alleged rape was out of character. She said she would like to get back together with him.

The court heard that Thierry Pa’s mother was an alcoholic and his father was often absent.

Adrien L, 34

Adrien L, a former building site manager from Carpentras, was convicted last year of the rapes of three former partners in a different trial and is serving a 14-year jail sentence.

He denied raping Gisèle Pelicot in March 2014. He said he had thought he was taking part in a game and did not think she was drugged.

Aged 23 at the time of the alleged rape of Gisèle Pelicot, he is one of the youngest men on trial. He was educated at private school before joining his father’s successful building business, and was described as coming from a higher-income background than many of the other men accused.

He told the court that when he was 21 he discovered after a paternity test that he was not the biological father of the three-year-old girl he was raising with his girlfriend. He said from that point onwards, “I had a hatred towards women”.

The night he was alleged to have raped Gisèle Pelicot, his new girlfriend was nine months pregnant and gave birth 10 days later. He admitted to court experts that he had mistreated his pregnant girlfriend and called her a whore.

The court heard that he was sexually abused by a cousin when he was 10.

Jean T, 52

A former roofer born on the French Indian Ocean island of Réunion, Jean T was in a nine-year relationship when he drove two-and-a-half hours from Lyon to allegedly rape Gisèle Pelicot in her bed on the night of 21 September 2018.

He had made contact with Dominique Pelicot in the chatroom, where he used the name “Bill”.

He told the court: “I am not a rapist”. He said he thought Dominique Pelicot had drugged him. “I don’t remember anything,” he said.

In court, he recalled many details of the evening, including the house, the rules of undressing in the kitchen and seeing Gisèle Pelicot on the bed. But he told the court he had no memory of the actual moment of his alleged rape of Pelicot, and recalled only getting into his car afterwards when he drove home.

Judges observed that he had not appeared drugged in seven videos, in which he was active and gave a thumbs-up sign. He was asked why, if he feared he had been drugged, he did not report this to police. He said at the time he had thought: “It was a bad encounter, forget about it.”

The court heard he had regularly sought encounters with couples for more than a decade and had paid sex workers but “it felt dirty”.

Redouan E, 55

A former anaesthesia nurse in hospital operating theatres in Morocco, Redouan E lived in Avignon, where he worked as a community nurse.

He was married for the second time and in the process of adopting a young girl from Morocco. He was disappointed that the adoption process was stopped after he was arrested for allegedly raping Gisèle Pelicot at her home on a Saturday night in June 2019.

Redouan E told the court: “I plead not guilty.” He denied rape, saying he was the “victim of a trick” and had been too “terrified” of Dominique Pelicot to say no. Confronted with video evidence of several alleged rapes of Gisèle Pelicot, he said: “I was terrified, but you can’t see it.” He said he did not leave because he feared that would ruin Pelicot’s Saturday night.

He said he had not known Gisèle Pelicot was sedated. Asked in court, how, as a trained aneasthesia nurse, he had not seen that Gisèle Pelicot was unconscious, he said he thought she was pretending to be dead “but never that she’d been drugged”, and he believed he saw her move.

Patrick A, 60

A former factory worker and video-club owner from the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, Patrick A admitted the charge of raping Gisèle Pelicot but said he had taken part reluctantly because he was gay and had wanted an encounter with Dominique Pelicot, not his wife.

Patrick A met Dominique Pelicot in the online chatroom and they messaged on Skype, where Pelicot told him Gisèle Pelicot was a “prudish bitch who didn’t want threesomes” and said: “I’m looking for a pervert accomplice to abuse my wife, she takes sleeping pills and I take advantage.” Patrick A had replied: “OK.”

He told the court he had wanted so much to have a gay encounter with Dominique Pelicot that he was blinded by it and brainwashed. He said he raped Gisèle Pelicot “reluctantly” to “please” Dominique Pelicot. He questioned whether he may have been drugged.

“You are homosexual but you have committed a heterosexual rape, which you admit,” said Antoine Camus, Gisèle Pelicot’s lawyer. “In this trial we have already heard of rapes committed ‘by accident’, your specificity is to plead rape committed ‘reluctantly’.”

Patrick A apologised in court. He told the court he had known he was gay from his teenage years but sought to hide it from his homophobic parents. He married a woman, had two children and after divorcing at 43 regularly met men for sex in saunas and backrooms of sex-shops in the Avignon region, and truck-drivers in motorway laybys.

Didier S, 68

A former long-distance lorry driver and divorced father of two, Didier S said he went to Dominique Pelicot’s house “exclusively for a homosexual encounter” with him. He denied the charge of raping Gisèle Pelicot on 30 January 2019. He said he had thought she was pretending to be asleep.

In court, he said he had had no intention to rape Gisèle Pelicot and was simply following her husband’s instructions. “It’s not me you should be angry with, it’s your husband,” he told Gisèle Pelicot in court, trying to catch her eye. She turned away.

He lived a 20-minute drive away, had logged on to the chatroom at 8pm one night, and two hours later went to the Pelicots’ home.

Five years earlier he underwent bladder and prostate surgery for cancer and had begun meeting men. The court heard he was raped when he was 16.

Karim S, 40

A computer expert with two university degrees, Karim S denied raping Gisèle Pelicot on 27 June 2020. He is also charged with possessing child abuse imagery found on his computer during the investigation. He denied those charges, saying he downloaded the images “inadvertently”.

He told the court of the night he went to the Pelicots’ home: “I did not go there with the aim of committing a crime and I had absolutely no idea that Mrs Pelicot was not consenting.” Messages between him and Pelicot showed them discussing Gisèle Pelicot in crude terms, referring to her not being aware of what was going on. Karim S had been told that Gisèle Pelicot would be “asleep from alcohol and a sleeping tablet” but he said he had thought it was a game.

Dominique Pelicot, who told Karim he was a doctor, invited him back in August. Karim said he feigned food poisoning as an excuse because the June encounter had been “too bizarre for me”.

He grew up in Marseille and had moved to a picturesque village half an hour’s drive from Mazan just before the Covid lockdowns of 2020.

Vincent C, 42

Vincent C, a carpenter, was convicted of domestic violence against his ex-partner in 2021 and given a six-month suspended sentence. The court heard he had had an alcohol addiction since he was a teenager.

He is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot at her home on two occasions in October 2019 and January 2020. He denies rape. He admitted a sexual encounter but said he had had no intention of committing rape. He said he had thought Gisèle Pelicot would wake up.

He met Dominique Pelicot in the chatroom after a postcode search on the site to find people nearby. He tended to log on after his village bistro closed on a Saturday night.

“I was looking for sex,” he said, adding that he had not put much thought into it. He said he found the situation in the Pelicots’ bedroom “bizarre” but trusted the fact that he was “at a couple’s home, invited by the husband”. He said he felt no pleasure himself, but went back a second time because Dominique Pelicot had told him that he and Gisèle Pelicot had “enjoyed it”. Pelicot said Gisèle Pelicot had watched a video of his first visit and “liked it”, which for him, “closed the door on any doubt”, he said. He said he felt he had “satisfied” the Pelicots more than himself.

During his testimony, Gisèle Pelicot got up and briefly left the courtroom, appearing exasperated.

Jean-Marc L, 74

Describing himself as a former “international truck-driver between Paris and Baghdad”, the divorced grandfather is the oldest of the accused men.

He denied raping Gisèle Pelicot in May 2017. He said he had always thought that rape was “something violent … done by a madman, a brutal thing”, but that this had instead been a “sexual game”. He told the court he had only “obeyed orders” from Dominique Pelicot. He said: “She was going to wake up because it was a game.”

It was only after he left the house that he thought about whether Gisèle Pelicot had consented. He didn’t alert the police. “I should have done but it didn’t cross my mind.”

He said Dominique Pelicot, whom he had met beforehand in a supermarket car park, had told him he wanted to “punish” his wife for having had an affair in the past.

He said Pelicot asked him to come back another time “with a friend”, which he didn’t do, after mentioning it to another truck driver who said it wasn’t normal.

Jean-Marc L said he had often paid sex workers in Spain. “What truck driver hasn’t been to prostitutes?” he said in court.

Dominique D, 45

Dominique D, a lorry driver and former soldier, said he was contacted via the online chatroom in February 2015 by Dominique Pelicot, who said he was looking for a man as a “gift” for his wife “for Valentine’s Day”.

Dominique D is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot on six different occasions. Police found video evidence of five visits to the Pelicots’ house, but he told them of one further visit.

He denied rape, saying he had not intended to rape anyone. He told the court: “I didn’t wake up one morning and say to myself hey, today I’m going to go to a couple’s house and commit a crime.”

He said that before going to the Pelicots’ home for the first time in 2015, he had asked to see Gisèle Pelicot and was sent a video of her taken without her knowledge as she left the shower. He also briefly visited the home pretending to be an electrician and saw Gisèle Pelicot reading on the sofa. He said he felt he had enough guarantees from Dominique Pelicot, adding “I just forgot one big guarantee – Madame’s consent.”

He is the youngest of 16 children and was placed in care at the age of six months.

Mohamed R, 70

Mohamed R, a former discotheque worker from La Rochelle who in 1999 was sentenced to five years in prison for raping his 17-year-old daughter, is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot in May 2019 at the holiday cottage of the Pelicots’ daughter, Caroline, on the island of Île-de-Ré in the west of France.

Mohamed R denied raping Gisèle Pelicot. He told the court: “I couldn’t imagine for a fraction of a second that Dominique Pelicot did that without his wife knowing.” He had been in contact with Dominique Pelicot via the online chatroom.

Dominique Pelicot was asked in court why he had drugged and raped Gisèle Pelicot not just at the couple’s own home but at their daughter’s holiday home, where the Pelicots often went with their grandchildren. The couple’s daughter and grandchildren were not at the cottage at the time.

Pelicot said: “There was no symbolism, it could have happened anywhere.”

Ahmed T, 54

Ahmed T, a plumber and former champion boxer married for more than 30 years with three children, is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot at the couple’s home in June 2019. He denied rape and told the court: “I’m not a rapist, but if I had wanted to rape I wouldn’t have chosen a 57-year-old woman, I would have chosen a pretty one.”

He was in contact with Dominique Pelicot on a chat room, saying that at the time he was having less sex with his wife and he “did not want a mistress” but thought “why not” have an encounter with a couple. He said Dominique Pelicot had referred to Gisèle Pelicot as “la bourgeoise”, saying she was away a lot in Paris and home at weekends. He said he had thought Gisèle Pelicot must have been shy, and that he had trusted her husband.

Ahmed T said he travelled to the couple’s home by car after his own wife had gone to bed.

Redouane A, 40

Redouane A, an unemployed, separated father of four who has convictions for domestic violence, burglary and death threats and has served time in prison, went to the Pelicots’ home twice in 2019.

He denied rape. He said he had asked Dominique Pelicot if it was normal that Gisèle Pelicot was snoring and had been told: “Yes, we like doing it like that.”

He described the Pelicots’ home as “a beautiful house in Provence” with a “well-kept garden”.

He said he grew up on a housing estate, began smoking cannabis at 10 and was the victim of sexual abuse at this age, by an old man he met in the park who took him to his van. He left school at 16.

The question was raised in court of a possible diagnosis of schizophrenia, with one psychiatrist saying he instead had a personality disorder.

Mahdi D, 36

Mahdi D, a transport worker and father of one from Avignon, is accused of going to the Pelicots’ home once in October 2018.

He denied rape. He placed the responsibility on Dominique Pelicot, who he said had presented himself online as part of a couple who wanted to meet single men.

Mahdi D said of Gisèle Pelicot: “One can’t imagine what she has been through, she has been destroyed and I have thoughts not only for that poor woman but her whole entourage and family.” He said it was “terrible” for him to find himself caught up in something like this.

Cyril B, 47

Cyril B, a single lorry driver who described himself as a daily consumer of cannabis, is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot at her home in November 2018. He was recorded by Dominique Pelicot in a video called “With Cyril from Carpentras.”

He denied rape and said he had been manipulated and was not capable of committing a rape. He said he was also a victim of the situation, as he had been duped by Dominique Pelicot, whom he had met on an online chatroom.

He told the court he had previously had encounters with couples he met via websites.

Cyprien C, 43

Cyprien C, a former lorry driver and father of one, is accused of raping Gisèle Pelicot in her bed in Mazan in 2017.

He denied rape. During cross-examination, he accepted a sexual encounter had taken place and said he was sorry to Gisèle Pelicot but that he could “not say more than that”. He did not say the word rape, telling the court “I can’t say that it’s rape”, arguing that Dominique Pelicot had led him to believe that Gisèle Pelicot was playing a role in a game and “would pretend to be asleep”.

The court heard he grew up in children’s homes and foster families and later suffered from alcohol addiction as an adult.

#radblr #radfem #radical feminist #gender critical #radical feminism #terfblr #gisele pelicot

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spngi · 4 months ago

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My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Part 8

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst, mentions of Charles and reader.

“And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years, and you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed look at how my tears ricochet”

I spend two weeks in a daily and torturous routine.

When I finally get home after the suffocating days in the field for that damn wedding I look for the envelope that had previously been very well hidden.

I lock myself in my painting room, I leave a drink next door as a friend and an old vinyl playing, the first time I opened that envelope I needed to take my time, consider if that’s really what I wanted, things seemed to be going better after all...

When I’m finally sure I want it, I open it and read it, Carlos was right, he had been as fair as possible when putting together the papers. He provided me with a good amount of money that would give me a comfortable life, I would have an apartment, I could stay with the country house and a car, I would have access to his lawyer whenever I needed and a phone available 24 hours in case of any emergency.

I signed those damn papers in that first day, and honestly it was the easiest part of all this, I lacked the strength now to continue on this journey.

For two weeks I tortured myself looking at these papers, looking at my signature there, and when I wasn’t looking I kept remembering him. I remembered him even after my daily race with paco, or when I lay in bed now with Carlos back by my side, at dinner time or when Carlos presents me with a new armored car.

My routines bother me because I know they will no longer be a routine for me after I get divorced, the new car does not cheer me up because it won’t even be mine, and if I really were to ask for something it wouldn’t be a car, nor an object or jewelry.

When the 16th day arrives to face the document whose words I already know by heart I know that I really have to do something for myself, I have to be strong and continue with it, I have to start my life from scratch.

I was afraid that this time it was Carlos who would deny himself, that he would make me stay and I know I would, because I loved him despite everything. And I needed to love myself a little more, so I needed to put myself first this time and I knew I would need to make this irreversible both for me and so much for him.

That’s why I give lando time off and take the opportunity to go out alone in the late afternoon knowing that Carlos could not come back so soon because he had problems at work, I drive nervously through the streets of Madrid, in the new green Aston Martin until I found the building I was looking for.

I didn’t allow myself to drink a sip of alcohol or at least smoke a cigarette, an old teenage habit that seemed to be coming back in the last few days, I needed to do it sober and without excuses.

I look at myself in the rearview mirror and get out of the car before I start thinking too much, the delicate white miu miu dress adorning my body and the noise of the heels hitting the stairs of the building distract me, and when I finally get to the door of the one who was going after it I give me some time to breathe, I needed to do this.

Maybe I would never forgive myself with what I was going to do from the moment I knocked on that door but it was necessary, because that way Carlos wouldn’t forgive me either.

I fix my hair properly brushed and falling on my shoulder, smooth the fabric of the midi dress and grab my bag tightly as if it were my saving boat.

I don’t need more than two knocks on the door to be received, my perfume mixing with the owner of the apartment in the hallway with the simple gesture of opening a door, I smile no nervous this time.

“Y/n” Charles exclaims surprised to see me, he looks at my figure in front of him as if it were something mythological and I know I made the right choice when choosing to come right here. “Please enter, did something happen? Do you need anything?”

“Thank you” I thank him, crossing the door, entering his privacy. I try not to feel guilty about what I’m going to do to him, for taking advantage of the way I saw his eyes sneaking to me several times and how he has always been kind to me. “Actually, yes...”

He is enchanted by my smile, too lost in me and I feel like a mermaid enchanting him. He would never know but it would be thanks to him, Charles Leclerc, that I would finally get my exit card, and it would no longer be Mrs. Sainz. I let the bag fall on the table, a programmed gesture, showing the lack of a ring in the left hand, the same ring I had left at home before leaving.

I approach him, all the gestures very well thought out, very well articulated and I observe how darker the green iris of the man in front of me get.

“I need your help...” I sigh, giving time until my next sentence, I lay my hand on his chest and I feel strange. “With something very intimate actually”

It’s strange to be so close to another man who wasn’t my husband, it’s strange for me to wear this skin as if I were the most seductive woman in the world when I was shaking underneath, afraid of this crazy idea going wrong, afraid of being rejected and becoming a joke. The man in front of me still seems in a trance, and I understand why he is so astonished, it is not every day that his boss’s wife knocks on your door begging you to fuck her. Although he still didn’t know the last part.

I take advantage of his shock and continue with the initiative in hand, I lower the zipper of the dress and let it fall on the floor in a dry thum, I stay there in front of him, exposed in only burgundy color heels and the delicate white lace panties.

“Y/n” Charles whispers in shock, his eyes taking detail from every piece of my naked body in front of him, his muscular arms not knowing how to behave. “You?”

“Don’t make me beg for you, Charlie,” I whisper, and I feel like the most daring woman in the world. “Don’t make me regret giving you this chance...”

He doesn’t make me regret it, he’s quick to take an initiative, he’s quick to take action, hands exploring my body and taking his time, taking advantage of the moment and afraid that maybe I would disappear in front of him like magic. He kisses me as if he was waiting for it all his life and when he kneels in front of me he looks at me as if he were greeting a goddess, this image of him constrating with the rigidity he wore on a daily basis, the delicacy with which his callous hands touched me, the bipolar way his eyes face me - full of desire, ferocity and passion and at the same time looking like a child in the candy store.

He is careful and leaves no marks on my skin, although I believed he would like it. I don’t need to remind him that no one could ever know this while he helps me get dressed, he knows he would be a dead man if Carlos found out.

And besides the fact that I actually used him tonight, I know that none of us regretted what happened when I walked through the door of his apartment and went back to the future no longer my house.

I take advantage of the last hours in that house to say goodbye, I look at all the rooms and remember the good things I lived there, I observe all the corners and windows, all the paintings and tapestries.

The things I most esteemed in that house had already left earlier, going to a hotel in the city next door, I did not take gifts or jewelry, nor the expensive and exuberant clothes, I needed to start from scratch with just a few sentimental things, good and lived memories of an old joy that I lived in this place along with the small paco that would gain a new home with me.

I observe the papers in my hand and the wedding ring I hold, not daring to use it since the night before. In one last breath I enter Carlos’ office, he smiles when he sees me, when he sees me tidy - the mark of the last chapter that I would do it only for him.

“Is everything okay, love?” He asks, noticing my restless figure entering the room.

“Yes,” I answer firmly, everything was fine and everything was going to be right. I put the papers in front of him, the ring landing on top subtly and watch as his face frowns in doubt.

“What....” He looks at me in doubt, doesn’t understand what I’m doing, and I wonder if when he proposed the same thing to me some time ago how I reacted. “You didn’t want a divorce, I thought we were fine? What’s going on, y/n?”

“You were right, Carlos.... We haven’t been well for a long time, we’re just pretending that nothing happened,” I answer him.

“I love you” he speaks, voice rising a tone in despair.

“I love you too, Carlos” I sigh, not imagining that this conversation would be so difficult, after all he proposed this to me for the beginning of the conversation. “But we can’t go on like this anymore, we don’t respect each other anymore... it doesn’t work anymore”

“I thought you wanted to forget everything, we could try again from scratch, we can try couple therapy or whatever you want, y/n”

“We can’t, Carlos. And I don’t think even you could...” I murmur.

“What do you mean?”

“I betray you, Carlos” those words look like knives entering him, the pain in his eyes, the posture falling more and more, he looks at me hoping it was just another joke. “As I said before, we don’t respect each other anymore...”

I take advantage of his silence to keep talking, I didn’t want to leave like that, just letting him know that I had disrespected our marriage the same way he did, I wanted to end everything in good memories even though we were already too far from it.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret anything I lived with you, and if I had the opportunity I would do it all over again.” I sigh, his eyes stare at me foggy “I just regret letting things go so far between us, you were right when you said we needed to have finished with everything before, it would have spared us a lot of bad things. I would save myself to remember you with so many bad memories, but I know we had a lot of good memories during our wedding to remember.”

“Y/n... please” he begs, I see a tear come out in the corner of his eyes and I don’t know what he’s begging for, I wipe away the little tears that also run down my face.

“Think of it as a good story, carlos... with some cuts at the end” I try to laugh “ we were a good couple while it lasted, carlos. And I’m honored to know that I had the chance to be yours Mrs. Sainz.”

I approach his body sitting, let myself evaluate his features one last time, observe his brown eyes, his dark hair falling in waves down his face, the way his brown skin is hot even in the slight distance.

“I’ll be waiting for the lawyer to call,” I tell him, the last farewell before turning around and leaving.

I don’t take my time to leave, I had already said goodbye to this house, I didn’t need memories of it the moment I was leaving. I meet lando at the exit, paco in his arms and waiting for myself leaning in the car I was taking with me.

“It was good to meet you, lando” I smile and hug the boy in front of me.

“It was good to be your friend, y/n.” He returns the hug and then looks at me “don’t become a stranger, we can still be friends”

“I’ll keep in touch, I promise” I smile at him “you have a huge future at hand, lando. Believe in me”

I smile, I don’t let myself look at the house behind me, I get in the car and see the companion of my new life through the rearview mirror sitting on his dog support. That was it, I managed to finish this chapter of my life, it wouldn’t be easy but I took the bravest step of my life, and I was free.

I watch the images repeat themselves on television in front of me, the words of the reporter have long in silence in my head, only the scenes repeating themselves in infinite looping.

It had been a month since I had left home and had not received any news about the divorce or Carlos.

Until that moment.

The TV shows images of him, handcuffed hands, face down and the police taking him. The scene leaves me in shock, I don’t know how long I stay in front of the TV watching and understanding what happened, but when I finally come back to me I pick up the phone and call Lando.

The connection is short and full of codes, all afflicted with any threat of also being caught by the police, which forces me to make the 2-hour trip by car to Madrid again. The path is disturbing and I don’t know what to expect, the police had already hit our old house several times, Carlos had already been arrested, staying a day or two until they couldn’t prove anything against him, I myself had already been stuck at the police station for one night while the police waited for me to let anything escape. This time it looked different, apart from the tension evident in the call I had with lando, there were newspapers and reporters, and I remember very well the caption on the screen talking about years in prison.

When I get to the house I left in the last month nothing seems to have changed, except the whirlwind of men running through every corner as in a war, which in this case seemed to be against justice. Lando seems to wait for me when I enter, I expected there to be some restriction on my presence but no one says anything, maybe not yet used to my absence, the house remains practically the same as my gaze while I let myself go up the stairs to the office that was Carlos’s, Charles is inside and when we enter he hangs up the phone.

“I was talking to the lawyer” he sighs, scratches his head and then smiles at me “it’s good to see you, y/n”

“I figured I would need to come and get the protocol if the police knocks on my door” I say, I sit in the chair for visits and wait for the right arm of the sainz family to pass the news.

“The news is not good...” he murmurs “carlos was caught and this time the police had evidence, we are talking about 5 to 10 years in prison according to his lawyer, and this is not the worst part yet...”

“Where do you mean, Charles?” I ask, the anxiety taking over me, making the white silk pants pinch on my body.

“Carlos never went to court with the divorce application” he scores the words by taking the document and showing me, only my signature there. “What keeps you both married, you don’t have to depose against him if you don’t enter the protocol...” he sighs and looks at lando as if he didn’t know how to follow from that information.

“And there’s the business part...” lando starts talking, sits next to me “the other families are afraid after prison, and they will prefer to negotiate with a face they already know”

“What you mean is that I should tear these documents and pretend I’m still married to Carlos?” I ask when interrupting the thought of the two, understanding where the conversation came from.

“Carlos’ own father gave this idea, you know that he does not intend to return from retirement... and he trusts you to manage it” the leclerc speaks, the figure tense with the whole situation and standing in front of me contrasting with the one I had the opportunity to be weeks ago.

“That’s a lot” I murmur, tilt my head back and close my eyes, pondering the turn my life was taking.

“We know, and Charles would still be here as a right-hand man to help, you would have everyone’s support if you want to stay, y/n! But we also understand if you just want to go, I know you were trying to leave all this behind” lando says, his words touching me gently.

“It seems that this life never lets us move forward, doesn’t it?” I ask a rhetorical question, I get up and cross the table, I watch Carlos’ chair that I sat so many times playing.

It’s a risky decision, it’s a decision for a lifetime, I was trying to start from scratch, have a new life and move on. But maybe that was it. I had moved on without Carlos, I could move on taking his place, without him in my life, maybe that was what the future was waiting for me. I sit slowly in his chair, I take my time feeling the feeling of being there, of what it means to sit there.

“Do I need to know anything else before tearing these papers?” I ask the men in front of me.

“You won’t like this part” Charles says and I wait for him to continue “as you are married, let’s say you are entitled to an… intimate visit”

I watch him speak, his hand scratching the back of his neck and I interrupt his discomfort.

“A visit that is not recorded or supervised... carlos explained to me a few times about it”

“It’s just in case you need to inform something that the police should not know and if you feel uncomfortable about it we will find another way” he is quick to explain himself.

“I can take it, Charles. Don’t worry”

“They’re going to do a complete review, y/n. It won’t be comfortable for you and honestly I’m not comfortable of having to use this method with you to talk to Carlos, but let’s find a way along the way for you to avoid it, okay?” It is comforting to listen to the words of the leclerc, to realize the care with the choices of word and the care with the situation that I will be exposed to, worrying about my well-being.

“Thank you, Charles. I need you to keep me updated about the whole situation and I also need your help so that business continues to happen” I smile weakly at them, take the papers in front of me and tear them “it seems that the sainz family finally won a female leader”

Charles was right when he said that it would not be easy for me to make that kind of visit, at all times I felt uncomfortable, although the worst part had been seeing Carlos again. It was horrible to see him in that situation, in a dimly lit cell, in an inmate uniform. He seems surprised to see me, but he doesn’t smile or at least say something, his head is quick to understand the whole situation and he knows at that moment we are talking on an equal footing.

Not as husband and wife, but from boss to boss.

He understands that today his life inside this prison and his future depend solely on me now.

The conversation is tense although the two understand that they need to leave inequalities aside at this moment, we need to be adults and talk about business and not about our problems. Nothing could make this conversation as comfortable as possible, not even if I eliminated the part of the body review or the wet cell we were in.

It’s libertating when I can finally get out of that prison, when I can go back home and stay away from that situation, Charles was right and would need to find another way to communicate with Carlos.

When I get home stunned and urgently in need of a bath, a strange sight in my living room makes me stop and observe the abnormal object in front of me, nailed to the wall that before was empty.

Madame Monet and her son face me, the painting on the wall of my living room where it definitely shouldn’t be, I paralyze looking at the painting that I admired, which should be in the United States on the other side of the ocean.

“You were right, it’s a beautiful painting” the soft voice of charles resonates behind me, taking me out of the trance I was in.

“This really is the ...” I don’t have the courage to finish the question, still in shock, with the painting in front of me and with the action of the man next to me.

“Yes” he says, body next to me admiring the Monet in front of us.

“I didn’t know we were involved in the theft of works of art now,” I murmur in disbelief.

“We can say that he wasn’t really at the museum...” he smiled “you said it would be a dream to be able to see him every day... I thought it would be a good welcome gift for you”

“I really have no words to thank, Charles” I smile at him, my face moved. I didn’t know how to thank him for his gesture, not because it was great on his part but because it was emotional and important to me, I also didn’t know how to thank him for what he gave me without even knowing, the freedom I gained. “Thank you very much”

“You deserve... much more than that, much more than you imagine”

“I don’t want to go back there anymore, Charles.” I sigh tired, defeated.

“So you won’t...” he replies calmly “you order it here now, y/n. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, your voice is the rule now”

These words make me alert of my position now, make me aware of where I am now and what I am now.

Although I had never even imagined becoming what I am now, I could not imagine myself doing anything other than that.

“Yes,” I smile at the leclerc next to me, “it’s good to know that”

A year ago things were very different, now everything changed. I had accused Carlos of having contaminated me with his business but maybe I just liked the way things were and let his darkness make me like him. There were many things that I stopped being and many things that I became on this journey.

And I wouldn’t have done anything different.

We have reached the end of a journey! Thank you very much for all the comments and affection you left along the way! ❤️❤️❤️

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #cs55 x reader #angst #carlos sainz au #f1 fic #máfia!carlos sainz #mob!carlos sainz #mafia!f1

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kittykattropicanna · 11 months ago

Note

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!!

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3 I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone.

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends.

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage.

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly.

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well.

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be.

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence.

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment.

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour.

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt.

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful.

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary….

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do.

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like.

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up.

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load.

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years Sentence ends: Year and a half Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak.

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android.

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out.

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him…..

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter.

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed.��

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key.

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man.

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter.

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle!

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :(

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)”

And of course you did!! He asked so politely!

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body.

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible.

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:(

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise.

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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riniworld · 10 months ago

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YANDERE!judge x LAWYER!gn!reader

warnings// obsession,yandere theme,Incorrect use of the law (?),mention of Hanging.

refrence// you.

a/n: i forget i have tumbler lol.

just started watching harry potter and i think i know what I'm addicted to.

•you didn't get along with him the first time you arrived.

•having beliefs different from the beliefs of the person who your training under making your training very difficult.

•and he wasn't less annoyed from you,He tried to transfer you to another judge, but no one had an empty spot.

•so now he's stuck.

•whenever you two argue because of a case,you should expect to find a lot of paperwork on your desk.

•he didn't plan on loving someone soon.

•but how can he not,when you are almost always together?

•Or when you bow your head down in obedience when he reminds you of who he is and what his status is compared to you.

•he can't even deny your intelligence.

•Now he doesn't put a lot of paperwork on your desk because he's annoyed with you, but because he wants you to stay more.

•and now your desk in his office because "i have to keep an eye on your work".

•your stuck with him from early morning until late night.

•what's that? Your car broke down? don't worry he'll drive you home just because you were a good trainee.

•he's not a party type but he'll come as long as you're there.

•also he made sure you'll get drunk so he can drive you home once more.

•but he didn't expect you to fall asleep,not on his shoulder at least.

•he has to hide his face so no one could see how red it is...or the creepy smile he has on.

•no one should see that cute peaceful face of yours,they have no right.

•so he excused himself quickly and took you home.

•the next day he became softer and the day after that and after and after.

•it was so strange from him but it's not like you're complaining in fact that made your work more easier.

•But that didn't last long....

•One day, he noticed everyone congratulating you and giving you gifts and you were extra happy.

•he LOVED that smile on your face but had that bad feeling inside him.

•And when he asked...it was the biggest shock of his entire life.

•how could you...? after everything he did?...how could you get engaged!?

•he wouldn't let that slide,he would never.

•and out of nowhere your fiancé has been charged with murder.

•how? when? where? you didn't know.

•but what you knew is that your fiancé is innocent.

•and for your relive The judge of his case is the one your trained under.

•Maybe you can convince him that your fiancé is innocent!

•But he was adamant that he was guilty and that all evidence indicated that your fiancé was guilty.

•You wanted to be your fiancé's defense lawyer, but the judge said that you are still in training and can't do this.

•in the end you couldn't do anything and your fiancé was hanged.

•Your dreams have been destroyed and you have fallen into depression.

•but don't worry the judge is always there to comfort you,and he always will be

•you don't need to know that he the one who did all of that.

•You've already fallen into his trap anyway.

hope you liked it:)

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere judge

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 6 months ago

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Reckoner: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

Thankfully, the team has the current case to keep them occupied so they don't think about you, but Spencer doesn't have that outlet. He's stuck in Penelope's office forced to think about you, what you might be going through, how you must be feeling, and how he can't do anything about it. He's bouncing his leg up and down rapidly because his anxiety is spiking. He would bite his nails if they hadn't already been bitten down to the nub.

"Spence, why don't you take a walk? I'm sure it'll do good to clear your head," Penelope suggests.

"No, thanks."

She sighs and turns back to the computer screens before calling Rossi. She's been working hard on her end to try and figure out who The Planner is.

"What do you have?" Rossi answers.

"I've concentrated on the last three cases because they left the freshest e-prints. However, over a hundred thousand cases pass through the Long Island Court."

"Who had eyes on the files?"

"Literally hundreds of people."

"Change track. Focus on The Enforcer. Look at mob-related murder trials on Long Island over the last ten years. We're looking for a hitman."

Penelope types quickly and comes up with a shorter list, albeit still long.

"There are over ninety-three mob trials in the last ten years."

"Put aside any trials that resulted in a conviction. Weed out mistrials and arraignments."

"Nineteen."

"Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen or enforcers?"

"Three, but I got something else here. Tony Mecacci's case was judged a mistrial but check out his suspected victim."

She sends over the file immediately so they can look it over. His victims are the same as the team's current victims. All were shot in the same style as the ones on the file.

".22 caliber, right?"

"Bulls-eye."

"Cross-match our profile of The Planner against all those connected with this trial."

Penelope continues to type as she speaks.

"Let's see here. We have prosecuting lawyer Garret Daniels, Judge Boyd Schuller, criminal defense lawyer Paul--"

"Wait, did you say Judge Shuller?" Rossi cuts her off.

"Yeah, I'm sending over a photo."

Rossi waits for the photo to come through so he can confirm whether or not he knows this person. He does.

"What's wrong?" Hotch asks. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I knew his wife. Two years ago, she was driving home from work and was killed by a drunk driver."

"That could be the tragedy."

"She was the love of his life, that's for sure."

Penelope digs into the Judge's life to see what kind of dirty secrets he has.

"Twelve months ago, Judge Shuller took a leave of absence due to health issues. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He has six months to live. That's when the killings started."

"You don't seriously think Judge--"

"Judge Schuller is the planner. Yes, I do," Rossi cuts off the detective. "It fits the profile, and Tony Mecacci is most likely Bosola the Enforcer. What have you got on Bosola?"

"He went off the grid after his last trial," Penelope answers.

"JJ put out a statewide APB and release Mecacci's photo to the media," Hotch orders, and she leaves to do it.

"Judge Schuller's a highly-respected man. We can't just walk in there and accuse him of serial murder."

"Then I'll go to the attorney general and petition the Chief Justice if I have to."

Rossi looks behind Hotch to see Judge Schuller walk right into the police station as if he knew the team was talking about him.

"Maybe not."

"I believe you're looking for me," the Judge says.

Judge Schuller is taken to an interrogation room to be questioned by Rossi and Derek.

"You know we have to advise you of your rights," Derek says and sits across from him.

"I waive my constitutional rights against self-incrimination."

"When you walked in here, you said, 'I believe you're looking for me'."

"Yes."

"Your timing was impeccable, but how could you know that?"

"I knew it wouldn't take you long to find me. Not after what I've left behind."

"So, you don't deny any of this?" Derek asks.

"Why would I? What you see as a crime, I see as justice."

"Ray Finnegan was a friend of mine," Rossi glares.

"Ray Finnegan was a criminal. You should choose your friends more wisely."

"It must have really thrown you when Ray showed up at Emma's funeral."

This pisses Judge Schuller off, and he slams his hands angrily onto the table.

"How do you know about my wife?"

"You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?"

Ray told Rossi that everyone only meets Bosola once. That means Judge Schuller had to have given Bosola a list of names. He would never have to meet him again, just to make final payments on proof of death which he can send electronically. If anyone can get into Schuller's personal files and financial record, it would be Penelope. She has to do it quickly before everything gets shut down.

Detective Gill made a call to Schuller's office a few hours ago and told them they had two suspects, which means he knows what the police know. Schuller knows the FBI is onto him, which means he didn't come here for a confession. He has a list, and there is more to come.

He came here to stall.

"Can we just get on with what I came here for?" Judge Schuller sighs.

"Why? So Bosola can go on and carry on whatever it is you asked him to do? No. You call him and you end this," Derek says.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"She was born Emma Louise Taylor on the 4th of July, 1958," Rossi reminisces.

"You could get that from anywhere," Schuller glares at Rossi.

"When she was six, her dad bought her a black and white homeless kitten."

"No, if she knew you, she would have told me."

"She named it Oscar," Rossi continues, "after Oscar Wilde. Out of all of Oscar's work, she loved an ideal husband the most."

The judge is getting angrier by the minute the longer Rossi talks about his wife.

"I don't know how you know all of this about Emma or what you hope to achieve, but we're done. You know the charges. Charge me."

"Is that what started all this insanity? Emma's death?"

"What started all of this was the thirty-five years I had to sit and watch as the system I swore an oath to protect failed the very people our justice system was meant to protect!"

"I wonder what Emma would make of all this."

"Every single person on that list deserves justice, and it's justice they managed to evade," Schuller shouts.

"So, you do have a list?" Rossi smirks.

"I'm finished talking."

Rossi and Derek continue to work over Judge Schuller while Emily is in another room talking to Penelope over video chat. Spencer isn't in the room because she managed to convince him to take a lap or two around the building to clear his head or try to.

"Hey, where's Spence? How is he doing?" Emily asks when she notices the lack of Spencer's presence.

"He's not doing too good. He doesn't have the hands-on work like you guys have to keep him distracted. It's killing him knowing Y/N's in jail for something she didn't do."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard on us, too. We don't talk about it but I know we're all thinking about it. Hotch will fix it once we're back, I know it."

"Yeah, me too."

"So, what did you find out about Judge Schuller?"

"We've got loads of two-way traffic going on, which means someone is trying to bounce us out."

"Okay, Bosola doesn't come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions."

"I've got wire transfers to a Cayman Island bank, and that's where the trace ends."

"How many and how much?"

"In June, he debits numerations of nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine dollars every few days four separate times. Then, he takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number. Anything less than ten thousand dollars keeps the IRS off your trail."

"So, the final payment must be for proof of death. That makes fifty-thousand dollars the price of a kill."

"He did that three times over a period of twelve months, but two days ago, he raised his account for a hundred thousand dollars all in one hit. He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victim's support group." Penelope gasps in shock and groans in frustration. "Someone who isn't suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out."

"Good job," Emily praises and hangs up. She returns to Hotch to tell him her findings. "If our calculations are correct, there are two more names on that list."

"There are."

Hotch replays the footage from the interrogation from when Emily was on the phone with Penelope.

"Every single person on that list deserves justice," Judge Schuller says and looks at his watch yet again.

"He said deserves, not deserved. Look right there. He looks at his watch for the second time. Whatever he's waiting for is about to happen."

"I don't think you knew Emma at all," Rossi continues to antagonize him. "At least not the one I knew. I made an excuse for myself that I wouldn't be welcome at her funeral. The truth is, I couldn't face it."

"You knowing Emma changes nothing."

"Oh, but it does. Emma changed the lives of everyone she knew, but at least Ray and I saw her death for what it truly was--a tragic accident."

"Dan Patton was drunk. He murdered Emma as surely as if he put a gun to her head!" Judge Schuller yells.

"Is that why his photo's not here? You're saving the best for last? How many other people have you targeted? I want the truth."

"I have nothing more to say."

"I do. I ran into Emma a few years ago at a hotel in Manhattan. I was working on a case and so was she. I knew she was married, but I didn't care."

Judge Schuller knows what Rossi is implying and he refuses to accept that his wife was cheating on him.

"No, she wouldn't... Emma would not do that to me. You're lying."

"Am I?"

"I want the truth."

"You first."

The Judge sighs knowing he's cornered and decides to give it up.

"Dan Patton is the last one. There are no more. Now, tell me the truth."

"That night in Manhattan, she told me our connection was so strong that it could never happen only once, and I was fine with that."

Rossi leaves with a smirk on his face, and the judge is shocked. He shakes his head and looks at Derek who is still seated.

"At least you now know what kind of man you're working with."

"What kind of man are you?"

"I've had enough of seeing the guilty walk free of their sins."

"What about your sins?"

"I got cancer for mine."

Emily, Hotch, and Detective Gil went to Dan's apartment after checking the police department he works for. Turns out Bosola got to him before the FBI could. They found him with two bullet holes, one in the heart and one in the head, but also beaten to death. Bosola is nowhere to be found because he killed him and left immediately after like a professional hitman.

There's no way Bosola is getting off Long Island since the FBI has all ports, roads, and airports guarded to make sure he doesn't get away. Judge Schuller is being moved somewhere safer because he is a high-court judge, which makes this a federal case now. The FBI is taking over this one before more people get killed. If Dan is dead, then the judge's list is complete.

However, something isn't adding up.

The Judge gave away his entire estate and all his money, and he closed out his accounts and paid off his utility bills. He has cancer but he has six months left to live. Why would he pay off his bills now and give away everything he owns? Not to mention the one hundred thousand dollar payment for not one but two more kills. If Dan was killed, then there should be one more.

Usually, the judge waits for confirmation of death before sending the payment, but he knew he wasn't going to be around to see this last proof of death. He sent everything over because he was not making it ten feet out of the police station.

Bosola has one more kill to make before moving on to another client, and it's Judge Schuller himself. With a crowd of reporters and a bunch of bystanders, it's easy for him to blend into the crowd. He managed to shoot Schuller in the heart and escape without anyone seeing him.

Case closed. With that major distraction out of the way, everyone is now focused on you and your situation. No one has said a word or talked about it since Hotch arrived in Long Island, but he's been making calls since getting on the plane to figure out what he can do to help you out.

The first person to get back to him is the lawyer that your dad snagged for you. He got ahold of his contact information and asked nicely to be let into the loop since he is your boss.

"Steven? Did you hear anything?" Everyone knows what Hotch is talking about so they stop what they're doing and listen to his side of the conversation. Hotch looks visibly upset which isn't a good sign. "Are you sure? ... There's nothing you can do for her? ... What about bail? ... Is there anything I can do? ... Okay. I appreciate you calling me. Thanks."

"What did he say?" Derek is the first to ask.

Hotch looks down and tries to keep the anger and frustration off his face as much as he can. When he feels he's neutral, he looks up and addresses the team.

"Y/N is being transferred to Virginia Correctional Center for Women in Goochland awaiting trial and bail. He said they have everything they need to convict her, and it's not looking good. Whoever did this really wants her to suffer for it."

Everyone is sent into silence because no one can believe this.

"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice." - Abraham Lincoln

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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xxvalkyriesxx · 4 months ago

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Flying Changes - Chapter One

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

Three years later…

Nesta Archeron made a lot of mistakes in her life. In the seventh grade she accidentally told a secret that wasn’t hers to share. When she did her online classes during high school she had forgotten about an entire English project and simply had to take the failing grade. But this current mistake, as she smelled of cheap beer and liquor. This was by far the worst mistake she’s ever made as she stepped out of the Uber facing the Velaris Courthouse.

Bile rose in her throat, the contents of the alcohol gaining an upperhand. She gulped then massaged her face, putting color into her cheeks. It would all be okay. I’ve been fine in the past. I’ll be fine now.

She climbed the marble steps before entering the courthouse, finding the room her case was assigned too.

“Where is your client, Mr. Vanserra? I won’t ask again.”

“I’m sorry, your honor. She’ll be here any minute.”

Ah fucking shit. Eris might just pull out all of his hair for this.

Heads swung as Nesta opened the court door, keeping her head low. She wore an old dress that most definitely had a ripped somewhere and her heels seemed to be wobbly. Or was that herself being wobbly?

Eris greeted her quietly before glaring at her. He pulled his head near her’s.

“Your have to be fucking kidding me right now. Are you actually drunk right now, Nesta?”

Nesta made a motion with her head to show somewhat as an answer. Eris sighed heavily before turning to the judge.

“You honor, my client has appeared now. I think we can start now.”

The judge peered down at Nesta. Her silvery eyes and black hair bob made Nesta squirm slightly.

“Listen young lady. If you’re ever late to court again, there'll be a lot more trouble given to you.” The judge said before continuing.

“You pleaded guilty for driving under the influence and as this would be your second offense, your consequences fit your crime.”

Nesta swayed back and forth, the nerves lingering in her body. She dropped her chin a little and looked over her shoulder. Near the back was her baby sister, Feyre. And at her side was her long-term boyfriend, Rhysand Valyrian. Feyre’s face was written in disappointment while Rhysand shot glares at Nesta.

Better watch out, buddy. Your face might get stuck like that.

“Miss Archeron, did you hear me?” The judge called out.

Nesta jolted, coming back to reality. “I’m sorry, Judge.”

Eris groaned, his hand already in his hair.

“It’s your honor, girl.”

“Yes, your honor.”

The judge began flipping through a packet in front of her.

“I will not be repeating myself after this, Miss Archeron.” She paused before continuing. “As you pleaded guilty this will not be entering an official trial. I would sentence you to the Dusk Court Prison if it was solely up to me Miss Archeron.”

Nesta’s heart began to speed up. Prison was really on the table this time when she spoke with Eris last; the night she made bail.

The judge sighed. “But after a loved one sent in a letter I’m afraid their decision had swayed me. Nesta Archeron, you will not be sentenced to prison.”

What felt like a collection of relieved sighs happened across the room. However Nesta must have imagined it.

“You will serve three hundred and seventy-five hours of community service while on probation. You will meet with your lawyer and parole officer once a week. If things go over well we can look into extending the meetings every two weeks.”

“Your license will be suspended for 1 year. You will be attending mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous sessions in the area you’ll be staying in.”

Nesta gripped her wrist, nails digging into her skin.

“Finally, you will be volunteering at the House of Wind Therapeutic Ranch in Windhaven. You will not be allowed to leave the site unless otherwise approved by the staff or mandated such as the sessions.”

Her stomach dropped. Freezing water dumped over her entire body.

A ranch?

“Your honor, is this a horse ranch?”

The judge looked down at her with a deadpan stare. “Yes, Miss Archeron. This is a ranch that involves horses. Although there may be other animals there too. Is that a problem?”

Nesta shook her head. No, no, no. This couldn’t be right.

“No, your honor. I’m not qualified to work there. I’ll take the–” but before Nesta could continue, Eris squeezed her shoulder roughly. He glared at her, his rusted color eyes glancing at her silvery blues.

“Your honor, my client doesn’t understand how this is a tremendous opportunity given to her. She will take it. Won’t you, Miss Archeron?” Eris squeezed harder, Nesta wincing. Her breath drew heavier, a faint memory of hands on her before.

There was no escaping. This was her consequence.

“...Yes, your honor. I understand.”

“I’m glad that you do. You’ll be needed at the ranch by nightfall tonight. If you cannot arrange a ride, the court will order one for you. If you break any of these rules, Miss Archeron, the consequences will escalate to a higher degree. Do I make myself clear?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes, your honor.”

The gavel’s sound bounced across the rooms. The sentencing was finished. Dread filled her veins while Eris stepped away from her, packing his things. She looked behind her again to see Feyre standing there, arms crossing over her chest. Rhysand had just walked out the door.

Nightfall came as Nesta sat in the passenger seat of Feyre’s truck. Technically it was their father’s old truck, but he passed it down to her shortly after her high school graduation. The fabric seats were torn with threads peeling and mysterious stains that Nesta didn’t need to know more of.

The car ride was filled with so much silence, it was like a third person was in the truck. Nesta kept picking at the skin, creating bloody hangnails. The radio wasn’t on either. Nesta loved music, but Feyre looked like she wanted silence. Her sister’s eyes kept on the road, both hands on the wheel. Driving through the highways then onto backroads, Feyre and Nesta made their way to the town of Windhaven. Approximately an hour outside Velaris.

There was humid mist in the air as rain drizzled from the sky. The windshield wipers rubbed against the glass. Nesta winced every time the wipers made a sound.

Red lights reflected on the puddles on the two lane road. The car came to a stop. And then Feyre sighed.

“Nesta, I love you. You’re my sister. But I can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t keep reliving this nightmare of my family dying because of alcohol. Mom and dad died because they drank themselves to death.”

Nesta’s hand curled into her palm. Bitter words were hanging off her tongue and she did nothing to stop them.

“You need to get over dad’s death. It was almost three years ago. And secondly you need to get a new car, Fey.”

Fey was the nickname Nesta and Elain had decided for her when their sister was born. It had been stuck like that since. Feyre winced at her old nickname. The light turned green, and Feyre drove again.

Silence came in between them once more, as Feyre made a turn onto a dirt road. Some of the street lamps were on, illuminating pastures and arenas. Nesta’s stomach turned at the once familiar sight.

“That’s not fair, Nesta.” Feyre counted as she pulled up to a house, putting the old truck in park.

“You’re the one literally dating Daddy Warbucks. He could give you the moon if you wanted. Maybe ask for a new car or some shit.”

“You will leave Rhysand out of this. He has nothing to do with this. And Nesta…IF you don’t change your ways, I will make sure you will not meet my child. I will not have that in their life.”

Nesta sat stunned in the quietness of the truck. Her gaze went from Feyre’s face to her stomach then back to Feyre.

“I love you, Nesta. But after this, no more. I will not let you be a burden to my life anymore. I will not have my child witness that.”

Nesta’s lip trembled slightly before she roughly opened the door and grabbing her stuff from the back seat. She didn’t look as she marched on forward, her suitcases and backpack in hand trailing behind her. As she climbed the porch to the front door, it suddenly swung open.

A man, a tall man, stood in the doorway. His long hair in a half up half down style as he leaned against the frame. The wheels of the truck became distant as Nesta looked up at him.

“So, Nesta Archeron. We finally meet after all this time. Welcome to your new home.” He stood inside, ushering her in.

“Prison is more like it..”

“I can get orange jumpsuits if you think that would make you feel better, however I don’t think orange is your color.”

Nesta scuffs, the insult nailing her. She glared daggers at him.

The man moved on, walking down the hall before turning around to face her. “I’m Cassian. Your warren, if we want to stay on the prison theme.”

“And lucky you. You get the fourth floor all to yourself. Enjoy, Nes.” Then he walked off, not bothering to help Nesta.

“My name is Nesta!” She called out after him followed by mumbling a few curses under her breath. Nesta took her things and began to climb the stairs. Step after step Nesta made her way flight after flight when she finally got to the last step of stairs. A closed door stood on top.

Nesta sighed, her breath heavy and jagged from the climb.

“I never hated a place more than this.”

She grabbed her belongings, dragging the heavy suitcase up the final set of stairs. The wheels rolling off the wooden steps. Once at the top, Nesta opened the door.

She was greeted with a decent sized room especially for an attic. This had to be the attic after all. There was

twin bed in the corner near the window with an AC box unit installed.

The suitcase and bags were thrown to the ground as Nesta pulled out a piece of gum. Quickly she began to chew as her stomach hit the bed. Squeals of the bedsprings hit her with force. The spearmint flavor kept her mind at bay, letting the urges stay in the dark.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos @blueunoias @velarisdusk @c-e-d-dreamer @jsmelodies @inkedinshadows

#Nessian #nesta archeron #Cassian #cassian acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #feysand #sarah j maas #eris vanserra #sjm #feyre archeron #rhysand #xxMyFic #equestrian au #modern au #nessian au #nessian fic

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ysmtttty · 1 month ago

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Red Ferrari

Chapter 14

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 13 Chapter 15

"Az, we’re going to the bar," Cassian declared firmly as Azriel was changing after his shift. "And before you say that you and your lawyer have plans tonight, I’ve already called him and told him you’re busy."

Azriel stopped and looked at him as if he were an idiot. "You did what?"

Cassian, who never once thought he’d done anything wrong, just shrugged, as if to say he thought it was the most logical thing and had no intention of apologizing. And yes, now Azriel had no excuse to get out of it.

"I need a group chat with him and Feyre," he joked. "You and Rhys never cross paths."

"Eris would block you and the chat in a second," Azriel said, certain that this wasn’t an exaggeration. He was surprised that Eris even picked up Cassian’s call in the first place. Sometimes, he forgot those two even had each other’s numbers.

"I’m sure he likes me," Cassian waved it off, and Azriel just scoffed. "I’m your best friend, how could he not like me?"

Azriel almost said that Eris doesn’t like people in general but decided not to shatter his friend’s delusions. Instead, he finished changing, buttoning up the last buttons on his shirt, and tried to convince himself that one night at the bar wouldn’t kill him.

"Is Rhys going?" he asked, wanting to confirm his suspicion. Cassian just nodded with a clear "yep," not seeing any problem. Well, this would be an interesting evening.

Realizing he truly had no excuse this time—Cassian had genuinely surprised him by calling Eris—Azriel resigned himself to his fate. Ten minutes later, they were speeding down the road toward the bar, with Rhysand supposedly waiting for them there.

"Where are we even going?" Azriel asked, noticing that the route didn’t lead to their usual spots. The area was more like the kind where Eris would drink with business partners, clients, or other big shots.

"No idea," Cassian shrugged. "Rhys picked the place. He just sent me the address, so I’m driving there. But yeah, I’m a bit shocked too."

"Do you think the bill for drinks will be deducted from our bonus?" Azriel quipped

"If that’s his plan, I’m quitting," Cassian laughed, turning right.

While Cassian drove, Azriel managed to text Eris.

"Traitor." Short and to the point, and well-deserved.

Eris read the message immediately. Three dots appeared, indicating he was typing, and Azriel could already imagine what his bastard would say.

"Haven’t heard you being out with friends in a while," Eris wrote instead of his expected sarcastic comment. "Besides, I’m swamped with this case. I’m staying at the office anyway."

Azriel frowned at the message. "That bad?"

He could picture Eris sighing and rubbing his eyes. "Luckily, the hearing is tomorrow, and it’ll all be over," Eris replied.

After finishing their exchange by telling Eris to call anytime if he needed, to which Eris responded that Azriel would likely be too drunk to talk coherently within the next hour, Azriel put his phone away.

Cassian, meanwhile, was shifting his gaze between the phone’s GPS and the road, trying not to accidentally crash into one of the many expensive cars around them. And there were plenty of those here.

After five minutes of missed turns and another five minutes of fighting for a parking spot—Cassian had almost parked when some jerk in a Porsche beat him to it, prompting him to get out and start a pointless argument, which Azriel managed to talk him out of—they finally arrived at their destination.

The bar turned out to be some kind of upscale place. It could be already told by the cars in the parking lot what kind of crowd was inside, and clearly, they didn’t quite fit in with this atmosphere. Azriel was the first to figure out where to go, and soon they found Rhysand, who greeted them with a smile.

"If this is our version of a work party, I’ll take my share in cash," Azriel joked.

"It’s not a work party," Rhysand shook his head, leading them to their table. "Just decided to try a new place."

Cassian whistled, looking at the menu, but Rhysand reassured them that tonight’s outing was on him and no, he wouldn’t deduct anything from their paychecks or bonuses. Besides, if it were a work event, they’d have to bring Amren along. Despite her age, she would definitely mess with the accounting if they didn’t invite her, just to spite Rhysand.

"But what’s the occasion for this unexpected generosity?" Cassian asked as they ordered the first round of shots.

Rhysand shrugged again. "Just in a good mood."

"The occasion is either Feyre agreed to marry you, or you finally sealed that deal with the parts company," Azriel snorted, glancing toward the bar where the waitress was preparing their order.

"Proposing is still at least six months away," Rhysand rolled his eyes, "and no, those Chinese bastards still aren’t agreeing to our prices. But, maybe you’ll like this news—the shitshow with Mor is finally over."

While Cassian didn’t fully grasp the magnitude of what Rhysand had just said, Azriel stared at him, trying to understand what exactly he meant by those words. Because according to Eris, their divorce wasn’t final until next week, so either something else had happened today that he didn’t know about, or Rhysand had suddenly taken up celebrating prematurely, which was never his habit.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, trying not to frown.

Rhysand, either now realizing the seriousness of the topic or just out of tact, adopted a more solemn expression. "Her father was arrested. Mor’s leaving for Europe next week. A win if you ask me."

"And what does her father have to do with this?" Azriel raised an eyebrow. He didn’t want this to be a test, but it was. As much as he wanted to trust Rhysand, he needed to compare his version with what he already knew, just to be sure.

"Keir’s a piece of trash, that’s what," Rhysand muttered with a hint of irritation. Cassian, who had been trying to follow the conversation but had given up, was now fully immersed in texting someone—most likely someone named Nesta Archeron—but Azriel didn’t blame him. The situation with Mor was a tangled mess. And both of them still weren’t too thrilled with her company.

"That’s not an answer to my question," Azriel pointed out as the waitress arrived with a tray of six shots, setting them down on the table. After clinking glasses with the others and downing his drink, Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who seemed to be quickly thinking of an excuse.

"Let’s talk about it later," Rhysand suggested instead.

Cassian distracted them both by insisting on another round of shots, and Azriel allowed himself to get sidetracked.

As they drank and laughed, the tension between him and Rhysand seemed to ease with each shot. Maybe it was the alcohol. Cassian, on the other hand, was enthusiastically recounting how he and Nesta were planning to take a short trip and that he needed some time off.

Rhysand told him that if Amren approved his vacation request, he could go wherever he wanted. Azriel laughed, knowing how hard it was to get time off from Amren. He was lucky that when he took his vacation, he didn’t care if he got fired or not. Cassian didn’t seem too intimidated by the condition, apparently thinking that he’d just ask Nesta to come with him to the workshop. With all due respect to the elderly, Nesta Archeron could win any battle of wills, even against the stubborn Amren.

"So, everything’s good with you two?" Azriel smiled, listening to another of Cassian’s stories about how he and Nesta had signed up for dance lessons together.

"Better than ever," Cassian grinned widely. "By the way, the Valkyries have a concert next weekend. You guys should come."

Seeing that Rhysand was reluctantly eyeing them, clearly about to come up with some excuse not to go, Cassian added, "Feyre’s going, by the way."

"Well, who am I to not support her favorite band," Rhysand forced a smile, and Azriel and Cassian laughed at him.

Cassian’s car keys suddenly jingled, indicating that the alarm had been triggered.

"Great," Cassian grumbled, getting up from his seat.

"Sit down, Rhys and I will check it out," Azriel stopped him with a gesture, taking the car fob from his hands. "You’re three shots ahead and can’t control your temper. We’ll deal with it if some rich jerk hit your car."

Cassian grumbled something after them as Azriel and Rhysand left. On their way out, Azriel bumped into someone coming toward him, but the person didn’t say anything in response to his apology and just walked on. Some people were just jerks.

They made it to the parking lot and looked around. Sure enough, some young guy was standing there, assessing a dent. The damage to Cassian’s car was minor, just a bit of paint would cover it up. Of course, that’s not what two experienced mechanics told the rich kid.

After getting enough compensation from him and giving him a business card to help fix his own car, Azriel and Rhysand shared a quiet laugh as they walked away.

"Poor guy,” Azriel chuckled. "Of course," Rhysand snorted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

"What about Keir?" Azriel asked, deciding that the “later” in “we’ll talk later” had finally arrived.

Rhysand took a long drag, exhaled the smoke, and looked at him with visible weariness and regret. "I can tell you’re not thrilled with me. Helping Mor, of all people."

"I never said that."

"You didn’t need to," Rhysand smiled sadly. "I know I messed things up. I honestly hoped it would all blow over easily, but then you started seeing Vanserra. And as much as I dislike that bastard, I saw that you were happy with him. Hell, Az, you were finally thinking about how to plan a date. When was the last time Cass and I saw you like that?"

Azriel snorted, refusing to answer. Maybe things with Eris were more serious from the start than he had thought.

"And that's why you didn’t tell me about him and Mor, I’ve heard this already," he said, trying to speak without his previous irritation over the situation.

"I couldn’t abandon Mor, and I didn’t want to ruin your life because of my wretched family," Rhysand sighed, taking another drag.

"Why Mor?" Azriel asked bluntly. "Is the family bond really that strong?"

"Her father is a dangerous man, you probably know that yourself. Keir… found ways to persuade me to help his daughter. Initially, the goal was to prevent them from divorcing at all, but later, he just wanted to extract as much money as possible. Mor would have received only a small part, while her father would have paid off his debts."

"Mor doesn’t know about this, I assume?"

Rhysand shook his head. "I didn’t know what to do, Az."

"You could’ve told us, Rhys," Azriel raised his gaze, meeting Rhysand's genuinely confused eyes. "You have me, Cassian. We would’ve figured something out. You don’t always have to play the martyr."

"It was supposed to stay a family matter, something I didn’t want to drag you or Cassian into," Rhysand paused, stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. "But now it’s over, Keir’s been arrested, and from what I hear, he’s facing a long sentence. Even his connections probably won’t help."

Azriel didn’t mention who was handling Keir's case. "And you and Mor aren’t dependent on him anymore," he said instead.

Rhysand finally smiled, relaxing as he nodded. "The old bastard’s getting what he deserves. Mor will get her money and leave, and I doubt she’ll ever decide to return. I’m sure Vanserra’s happy to know that too."

Azriel remained silent, unsure of what to say, but nodded. "Let’s go inside. Cass is probably freaking out about what happened to his car by now."

***

Eris visited the detention center once again, intending to make this his last trip. Not in some sinister, murderous way, but because he was tired and wouldn’t return before the trial.

With each visit, Keir looked worse. Perhaps Eris should’ve felt a little sympathy, but... nothing. No sympathy for this man, only the genuine amusement of seeing a once-powerful businessman getting used to life behind bars.

"Let’s try this again," Eris said, clasping his hands together. "Your alibi?"

Keir glared at him, ready to say for the third time that he couldn’t discuss his alibi. Whatever it was, it was likely either illegal, something he didn’t want to trust Eris with, or personal, but equally incriminating.

"Holding back information from your lawyer isn’t the best idea," Eris remarked dryly, looking at Keir with indifference. Just a few more days, and it would all be over, at least with him. Morrigan was about to divorce him, and Beron was supposed to return to his hometown. Everything seemed both too simple and desirable.

"An alibi won’t help," Keir said darkly instead of giving a real answer. So, illegal activity.

Rather than pushing further, Eris switched to another topic, flipping through the papers provided by the police. The file was now filled with various documents, from autopsy results to details about the jurors who would be present in court.

"Why am I getting information that you were at the victim’s house the day before the murder?" Eris raised an eyebrow.

"Me and Liam had something to discuss," Keir replied evasively. Better than nothing, but still not enough.

"And you were supposed to continue the conversation the next day," Eris finished for him. "His assistant mentioned that Liam had a meeting scheduled with you."

"It was a personal meeting."

"Personal enough for you to kill him?"

"We signed a contract that you would help me," Keir nearly growled. "So stop accusing me of something I didn’t do."

Eris, knowing that Keir was innocent, was just doing it to be petty. The poor guy had nowhere to go anyway, but until Eris’s tech team confirmed that all compromising material had been truly destroyed, Keir was still his problem. What better way to take revenge on his dear father-in-law for all the crap he had pulled over the years, especially in the last few months?

"We did, but that doesn’t mean I fully believe you," Eris smirked, pushing him even further, enjoying the pulsing vein on Keir’s forehead from frustration and helplessness. "Nevertheless, I’m doing everything to help you. All we need to do is convince the judge and jury that the police evidence isn’t strong enough to make any accusations."

"Or give them another scapegoat," Keir muttered thoughtfully. Eris didn’t bother telling him that, in this case, he was the scapegoat, letting Keir believe he had come up with a brilliant idea.

"You want to frame someone?" Eris asked dryly.

"I could find a suitable bum quickly if they let me make a call," the gears in Keir’s mind were visibly turning. Eris watched with amusement. "But they won’t allow me, so you’ll have to make the call."

Eris wasn’t surprised by the commanding tone, though a simple "please" would’ve been appropriate. Not that he particularly wanted to hear it, but still.

"Don’t act like you still need convincing," Keir grumbled, seeing Eris's reluctance to follow his plan. "Failure in this case will hurt your career, boy, you know that yourself. And with our contract, you can’t escape far, so let’s not pretend that pulling a few strings is beneath your principles."

"In this case, I have no principles," Eris smirked.

***

"You can’t just bail him out!" That painfully familiar, nasty female voice greeted him the moment Eris walked into his office. Mor was pacing in circles, glaring at him with a gaze as sharp as a knife.

"And good evening to you," he smirked crookedly, taking off his coat and hanging it on a hook. Mor was still pacing, clearly about to wear a hole in the carpet. "I thought you left the city."

"I did!" she confirmed indignantly and finally stopped, looking at him. Eris suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "And I came back to finish the last bit of business. Besides, our divorce is coming soon, and I need my money."

"Which I’ll give you after I see that you’re officially no longer connected to me."

"And that’s why you can’t release my father," she said.

Eris quietly snorted at her certainty that her opinion mattered at all to him. He calmly walked to his safe, storing away the necessary files before locking it up, just in case Mor got the bright idea to break in and steal documents. Knowing her, he suspected such a dumb idea might cross her mind.

Mor crossed her arms and watched his every move. She looked anxious. Beneath her irritating, commanding nature, there was desperation, which Eris could see all too clearly. In terms of terrible fathers, they understood each other well enough, if that understanding could mean anything.

He understood how important it was for Mor that Keir remained behind bars and couldn’t interfere with her semi-romantic escape to Paris or wherever else she planned to go. But helping her now with empty promises wasn’t something he could do, nor should he have to.

"Postpone the hearing, at least for a week," she almost pleaded. Eris sighed, sitting down in his chair and looking at her. "We’re divorcing, I’m taking my money and leaving. You’ll never see me again, and I’ll never ruin your life."

"It’s funny you think you could’ve ruined my life," Eris smiled sardonically, crossing his legs. "You’re too late, Morrigan. The hearing is tomorrow, and it can’t be postponed," he held up a hand before she could protest, "I’m not pulling any strings for you. You don’t evoke any sympathy from me; quite the opposite, I have every reason to ignore your needs entirely and leave you without any money if I choose. Don’t think that what you’re getting comes from any sympathy for your situation, it’s simple human decency. And as much as I don’t believe it myself, you are human."

He paused, letting his words sink into Mor’s mind. He could see it in her darting eyes, actively trying to come up with something to say or do, calculating a new plan on how to act.

"My father could have killed that man," she said quietly. "Even if it wasn’t him, how many others died because of him?"

"If this is an appeal to my conscience, I’ve defended people worse than your father."

"Then to hatred, you don’t love him any more than I do."

"Your desperation is understandable, but I don’t care," Eris cut her off, watching as she pressed her lips into a thin line and clenched her jaw. Her long nails dug into her palms as she balled her hands into fists, and he simply nodded towards the door, indicating that their meeting was over. Otherwise, he’d have to call security, but either Morrigan found her reason or it was her pride because she left the room, leaving him alone.

Soon after came a message from Azriel calling him a traitor, and Eris smiled. He truly smiled, because in this endless day of madness, something normal had finally appeared. Someone worth enduring another day for.

As he had written to Azriel, Eris stayed the night at the office. He hadn’t spent money on a good fold-out bed for nothing, even though he didn’t use it often. In the morning, he stopped by his penthouse for another suit and took a shower before heading straight to court.

Keir was waiting there, handcuffed but surprisingly neat in appearance. Eris gestured for the officer to leave them alone for a while. After the officer left, Eris glanced at Keir.

"You have half an hour to hold up your end of the deal," he reminded him.

Keir only grimaced and nodded. "I instructed my people to delete all the files."

"And I’m supposed to take your word for it?" Eris scoffed.

"How do you suggest I prove I have nothing left?" Keir snapped indignantly.

Eris was about to reply when a message from the tech team came through, confirming that they had checked and all materials were successfully deleted, including from several backup servers and storage units.

"Luckily for you, there’s no need to prove anything," he said. "I think it’s time to introduce you to your lawyer."

Keir’s expression was indescribable. A man entered the room, and Eris handed him a briefcase full of papers. Keir’s face turned pale, and Eris could bet his blood froze in his veins.

"You–!"

"Before we start throwing around accusations about who screwed whom over," Eris smirked, "it’s worth asking: did you really think we could legally certify a contract on illegal activity? And even if so, I did my part. We never specified the duration of my work or my exact role. As a lawyer? I failed. But as an administrative assistant to Adrian, I helped as much as I could."

Patting Adrian—or maybe Andrew, Eris didn’t remember—on the shoulder, he walked out, leaving Keir shouting after him, calling him a bastard and all other sorts of names and threats.

Everything went just as he had promised Keir—without principles or morals, he just didn’t specify for whom those morals would be lacking.

After leaving the courthouse, Eris dialed his father’s number, informing him that he had dealt with Keir. Eris didn’t intend to go into details about what should happen next, but knowing his father, he understood that Beron wouldn’t stop at just what Eris had done.

And he was right because, three days later, Keir was killed in a "prison brawl." But that was no longer his problem.

***

Eris thought divorce would feel different. Maybe a sense of lightness, the absence of chains. But here they were, he and Morrigan, leaving the court after their long-awaited divorce, and he felt nothing. Except for the realization that he was about to lose a few more million dollars.

Despite his dislike for Morrigan’s company, Eris opened the car door for her to get in and then took the driver’s seat himself.

"Remind me why you couldn’t just bring the case with the money with you?" Morrigan asked sarcastically.

Eris adjusted the rearview mirror, turned the key in the ignition, and started the engine, glancing at her with a crooked smile.

"Probably because I don’t usually walk around the city with that kind of money," he replied just as sarcastically. "Or maybe I’m just scamming you."

Morrigan pressed her lips into a thin line, and Eris was glad for the ensuing silence in which they drove to his penthouse. He had no intention of cheating her out of the money. As it turned out, her bastard father left her almost nothing—except for debts from casinos, which quickly drove Morrigan’s family out of the city, leaving her alone.

With a family like that, who needs enemies, Eris thought. Out of safety concerns, he paid off a few of the more dangerous debts, knowing that Morrigan’s cousin would be at the top of their hit list. And despite his disdain for that smug idiot, Eris didn’t want Azriel attending funerals because of it.

Once they reached his penthouse and took the elevator up, Eris unlocked the door and let Morrigan inside. She settled on the couch while he opened the safe and pulled out the pre-prepared case.

"I assume you’re not staying for your father’s funeral?" he asked, handing her the case. Morrigan took it and scoffed, wrinkling her nose at the very thought of staying one more day.

"And make myself a target for collectors? No, thanks," she said, opening the case and counting the stacks of money. "You lied to me back then when I was begging you not to bail him out, didn’t you?"

Eris crossed his arms, watching as Morrigan methodically counted her money.

"I couldn’t take the risk of you knowing what my plan was," he said dryly. "Have you picked your destination?"

"I can’t risk telling you, but yes," she smiled, snapping the case shut. "I’m sure Emerie will like it."

"Don’t blow this money," he said sarcastically.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "I solemnly swear not to blow Eris Vanserra’s money on drugs. Besides, with the move and job search, I doubt Em and I will have time for that."

Eris couldn’t help but notice that even through her disdain for him, there was joy in Morrigan’s voice. And damn him for the fact that, for the first time in a long time, it reminded him of the Morrigan who two years ago could share drinks with him in the evenings, and they were something like friends. The Morrigan who had once been a frightened girl in a messed-up world. Not the woman who tried to take his apartment, his car, and threatened to turn Azriel over to Beron.

"Then goodbye," he said simply.

Morrigan looked up at him, her gaze full of everything—from disdain and old anger to a certain regret. Or maybe he was just sleep-deprived and imagining things.

"Goodbye," she said, rising back onto her heels, and with the characteristic click of her shoes, she left his apartment, leaving Eris in silence.

Immediately after, his phone rang. Azriel called, just as Eris had expected, and he smiled at his name flashing on the screen.

"How does it feel to be divorced?" Azriel joked.

"I think that’s worth celebrating." Eris chuckled softly.

"Oh, how convenient that I’m already on my way to your place with food."

"And how convenient that I’ve already sent the housekeeper home and am about to find us some drinks for the evening."

"Very convenient," Azriel replied with amusement and hung up, appearing at his doorstep ten minutes later.

Greeting him with a kiss and setting the bags of Chinese food on the table, Azriel found glasses in his kitchen while Eris took out a bottle of wine from his collection. Now he felt all the benefits of divorce.

As they sat at the table and Eris diligently guarded his potstickers, which Azriel occasionally tried to steal from his plate, Azriel carelessly ate dumplings and talked about work in the workshop, mentioning which parts contracts should be renegotiated and which clients could be unbearable.

"I hope you told your... friend to skip the invitation to the funerals," Eris said, pausing before the word "friend," still not fully wanting to believe that jerk was Azriel’s best friend. Even if Azriel seemed much happier since Rhysand had finally explained things and now they were more open to reconnecting.

"Rhys isn’t an idiot," Azriel replied.

"Sure," Eris responded skeptically, earning a kick under the table. "I’m just worried about your boss. Who knows whose hands your little business will fall into if he kicks the bucket."

"Let’s not talk about the hypothetical death of my best friend on a night we’re supposed to be celebrating."

"Yes, less talk about the pleasant hypothetical things," Eris nodded, receiving another softer kick.

Azriel stole one of his potstickers, taking advantage of the moment, and Eris only rolled his eyes and placed two more on his plate. "Idiot, we could have just ordered more."

"It was more fun that way," Azriel responded with a glint in his eyes and a smirk, and Eris just kissed him, unable to resist the desire and not even pretending to be irritated.

That same week, Eris found himself driving up to the bar where he and Azriel had their second date. Not that he really liked the place. The date? It had gone great. The place itself? They could have picked better.

"Remind me why I agreed to this?" he huffed while Azriel drove his car, trying to find a parking spot.

"Because you're a good boyfriend?" Azriel teased. Eris rolled his eyes. "Or maybe because I'm persuasive."

"More like you convince me when I'm most vulnerable."

"I didn’t ask during sex."

"Of course, sex is your first thought."

"Try moving your hand off my thigh, and maybe I could think about something else."

They grumbled at each other for a few more minutes while Azriel parked the car, but eventually, they headed toward the bar. Eris tried not to wrinkle his nose at everything. The first time they had come here, he just wanted them to become a thing, but now, he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. So, his snobbish nature wasn’t going to stay hidden.

"It’s not that bad," Azriel smirked, nudging him in the ribs.

"I’ll pretend I’m fine with it and just take you to a charity gala next time," Eris grinned sarcastically, knowing that social events weren’t something Azriel found appealing.

They walked to their table, where Cassian and Rhysand were already seated. Nesta was standing over the table, chatting with Cassian, and her sharp features didn’t seem as harsh. Eris suspected it was because of that brainless mechanic, who for some reason, seemed charming to Nesta, the sister he thought was the most rational out of the Archeron siblings.

If you asked Eris, nothing was charming about Cassian, but the softness in Nesta's eyes was undeniable. He wondered if the same was happening to him, and how noticeable it was to others.

"Hey, buddy," Cassian greeted him warmly, catching him in a bear hug before Eris could dodge it.

"Hey," he replied, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Azriel was barely holding back his laughter.

Nesta greeted him as well, and he exchanged dry nods with Rhysand, though no one paid much attention to the tension. Azriel went off to fetch Gwyn, who had been eager to meet Eris in person, and Nesta and Cassian excused themselves too, claiming they were going to check the microphone on stage—which Eris seriously doubted was their true intention.

So, he was left sitting at the table with the smug jerk. Wonderful.

"You’re welcome, by the way," Eris said, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, pretending to be indifferent.

"For what?" Rhysand asked.

"For fixing your problem with Keir."

"Then you know I have nothing personal against you."

Eris narrowed his eyes, studying Rhysand’s slippery nature. "I’ll need more proof of that. But for now, I’ll tolerate you. Only for Azriel’s sake."

"To Azriel, then," Rhysand smirked dryly, raising his glass. Eris didn’t argue and drank as well.

After that, both of them sat on their phones, not even bothering to pretend they enjoyed each other’s company. Thankfully, Azriel soon returned with Gwyn, who first looked Eris over and then smiled.

"Cool suit," she said.

"Cool guitar," he replied, nodding at the instrument slung over her shoulder.

"I like him," Gwyn said to Azriel with a grin, patting him on the shoulder. "I have to run, but we’ll chat later, pretty boys!"

She dashed toward the stage, and Azriel wished her good luck before sitting back down next to Eris. Rhysand finally put down his phone when Cassian returned, and the tension between him and Eris became almost unnoticeable.

A little later, Feyre joined them, with Rhysand going to greet her. Eris might have been surprised that the Archeron sisters hadn’t brought Elain along, but he knew Lucien had planned some weekend trip for the two of them. Judging by the amount of money Eris had lent him, they were definitely not at a cheap bar right now.

"Nice to meet you, Eris," Feyre smiled after introducing herself. Eris had only seen the youngest Archeron sister once in passing, but apparently, they hadn’t officially met.

"Likewise," he smiled back, deliberately holding her hand in the handshake a little longer, just to annoy Rhysand, who was glaring at him the entire time his precious girlfriend spoke to Eris.

Azriel chuckled softly at that, throwing an arm over Eris’s shoulder as he sat back down beside him. The five of them sat for a while, just talking. Mostly it was Feyre and Cassian keeping the conversation going, trying to engage everyone. It was a bit awkward at times, but the rest appreciated their efforts.

Eris wanted to ask if Nesta and Gwyn had found a new drummer, but he didn’t get the chance because the Valkyries took the stage in their full, unchanged lineup. He noticed that both Azriel and Rhysand were looking at the stage in surprise—there, behind the drum set, was Emerie.

"Do you think…?" Azriel leaned in to whisper in his ear, but Eris shook his head.

"She’s gone," he said. He had his people make sure of it, and Mor had indeed left the city last night. It was highly unlikely that Emerie had stayed another day just for the concert.

Azriel only nodded, squeezing his hand. Eris, however, tried to control his mind, reminding himself who Morrigan was and how much damage she had caused in his life. Yet, a foolishly sentimental part of him still felt a pang of sympathy.

Those thoughts quickly faded, though, as Cassian cheered for his girlfriend, loudly singing along as if he had the microphone, not Nesta.

"Is he always like this?" Eris grimaced, whispering to Azriel, who just laughed.

"You’d sing along for me too," he smiled.

"Would I? Please, I’d never embarrass myself like that," Eris scoffed.

Azriel only stole a kiss from his lips. "Maybe not as loudly, but we both know I’m right."

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams

#eris vanserra #acotar #azris #azriel shadowsinger #azris fanfiction #azriel #azris supremacy #modernau #azriel x eris #eris x azriel

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