#the void whispers back to Liam

[fromaliminalspace]

1-5, 14, 21 for the year end asks :3

hi, thank you so much for asking, really!! and apologizes in advance for such long answers, as you can see, i'm just being “a bit” indecisive, hopefully I won't bore you too much with it!

1. Song of the year?

(for real, why such a seemingly simple question turned out to be the most difficult one. it's impossible to choose just one!)

czxcohjkhv okay, the first to come to mind is "Stargazer" by Rainbow, so gonna go with it. the drum intro, the sheer onomatopoeia that Ronnie's vocal approach always is, the astonishing guitar solo that practically spoilers the plot by being so evocative as well, the fucking intensity that this song is overflowing with??? I can never be normal about it, just can't. about their “Catch the Rainbow” (live 1977 Munich version specifically) neither. most ethereal ballad ever (and nope, Blackmore's solos don't even ruin the “balladiness” of it, just add to the vibe).

out of Black Sabbath's songs, i'm very much torn between Children of the Sea, Die Young, The Sign of the Southern Cross, After All (The Dead), Time Machine, Sins of the Father. and out of Dio's own stuff — Like the Beat of a Heart, My Eyes, Evil on Queen Street, Evilution, As Long As It's Not About Love, Shame on the Night. hhhng they're all too good, how am I supposed to choose anything, even one per band.

when it comes to music that doesn't have anything to do with RJD (yeah, I have been listening to it this year. sometimes), I still can't get enough of Queensrÿche's “Take Hold of the Flame” (especially live in Tokyo 1984). *in loud whisper* but also “The Story of One Sky” by Dimash, “Until It Sleeps” by Metallica (whoops accidentally became obsessed with it years after first hearing it), “Incense and Myrrh” by Arch/Matheos, and ���Between Two Worlds” by Uriah Heep. (can you tell how tricky it is to choose just one..?) and out of this actual year's releases (but tbh I haven't really been keeping up) most memorable was Liliac's “Carousel” or Metallica's “Screaming Suicide”.

and the most satisfying one to play on guitar is definitely “the Last in Line”, it's a literal dopamine feast for my brain for some reason.

2. Album of the year?

have admittedly been listening more to live performances than to studio recordings this year so it'd be easier to just list specific concerts but gonna try pick a latter one after all. actually I think the album i've most often listened to from start to finish is “Lock up the Wolves”, it just flows very nicely in its entirety. the second place would likely be the masterpiece that is “Heaven and Hell”. as for the album that's made me spin it in my head most intensely it's “Magica” bc it's a concept one but in the least straightforward manner possible.

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

my most prominent discovery of the year was probably Fates Warning (and their more modern incarnation Arch/Matheos), I believe. or Jethro Tull (and nope, I legit haven't even heard about them until recently, what of it).

but there's also a musician who's basically defined this year for me and whose voice i've been listening to almost daily (and who probably needs no introduction at this point). I have by no means only started listening to him this year though (c'mon, Blind Guardian cover of “Don't Talk to Strangers” was literally one of the very first songs to get me into metal in the first place; and my most favorite Sabbath song, back when I didn't give a damn about different lineups and was just vibing to the songs I liked most regardless of their albums, was from the Dio era). the difference is that only last December I first heard a live recording of his voice and was overwhelmed by the unparalleled level of intensity in it. bc ultimately his magic is so much more than just his voice, it's the laser-pointed intention behind every single word and the multi-layered thought-provoking lyrics and the everything hiding between the lines and the neverending love and generosity. it's not even sth easily convertible into words so i'd probably better stop being insufferable about him right here and now but the point is that Ronnie has had such a huge impact on my life that goes beyond anything that I ever thought any musician or even just anyone who i've never technically gotten to meet would be capable of having. but this impact has in fact helped heal sth very deep down so just... yeah.

4. Movie of the year?

i'll probably go with “predestination” (2014). there's just sth very intricate in all the levels of meaning in that movie, and especially in the way the main character is queer and their queerness is used of all things as a metaphor for quite a lot of interesting stuff. ngl I do have some issues with this movie but honestly considering that the short story it's based on was written in the fucking 50s and was still focusing on it is impressive already despite its flaws (also I love how the movie extrapolated and expanded on the original premise).

the most rewatched movie this year though would definitely be the “dreamers never die” documentary, no contest here (not crying at the very end of it is a challenge I always fail tbh).

oh and a honorable mention to “Nimona”, really loved that one.

5. TV show of the year?

realized only now that I haven't really watched lots of tv shows this year, huh. I think the only thing I did watch was the second season of “shadow and bone” and that's it, even though there's lots of other stuff i've been meaning to catch up with.

14. Favorite book you read this year?

answered there!

21. What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

hmm i've got a new pin board, does it count?? it's bigger than my old one (and made from a different material, which turned out to be better) but i'm somehow already running out of space on it XD it was nice though to rearrange everything on it in a more systematic way rather than just slapping new bits of paper onto whenever I found a free spot (and to add Silvy's gifts there💜).

another new (like. literally last week new) thing is actually on my computer but it's sth i've been wishing for for literal years so it gets a mention anyway and it's an amp simulator. bc to be able to just plug my guitar in and build up the sound I want from scratch (well, not necessarily, there are tons of presets, it's just a very rare one that sounds well enough with solos imho) and have so much control over it, even over how much distortion I get depending on how hard I hit the strings? it's divine, i'm telling you. took me a while to figure out what exactly I need but damn, it's just so freaking awesome

[fromaliminalspace]

always happy to be there for you to battle the gender struggles together and transe the narrative, @corrodedcoughin 🤝

also, hello??? Eddie being a somewhat gnc BOY and throwing societal expectations out of the window bc now he finally feels confident enough in his identity and his gender and his presentation to start breaking the arbitrary rules and just have fun with this and gently carve out his own personal definition of what masculinity may look like, regardless of how others view it? and on the way throwing out each and every notion of what "being a Real Man (TM)" is about, according to his father who would casually and offhandedly mock any gender nonconformity in its tiniest facets, be it slightly long hair or emotional vulnerability or anything else. because now Eddie's got an accepting caring father figure in Wayne who is welcoming and kind and gentle and is a living walking proof that one can have a valid masculine identity all while rejecting some destructive, both to self and others, yet societally glorified aspects of it. Wayne is a kind of man and a kind of human being who Eddie aspires to be and there's nothing now that can make him falter about the validity of his gender

also 1000% yes to Eddie owning and reclaiming his status of someone beyond the norm!! he may not be Normal in the eyes of other people but the only ones who sees it as a bad thing to be fixed are very much not the ones whose option he cares about. people may call him a freak but the joke is on them bc Eddie can and will embrace it with, as you said, pride and defiance. bc if simply daring to finally be himself would make him a freak then so be it, he'd rather face it upfront than keep hiding all his life and keep stifling his authentic self. more than that, he'd readily embrace his reputation and use it as a shield for everyone he cares about and has took under his wing, he'd draw the attention to himself even if it makes him even more of a target than before (but that's okay as long as it serves the purposes of drawing it away from them), he'd openly defy the conformity. and despite the odds he'd feel free af while doing that, how can he not when it feels so liberating and exhilarating to fire back at the bullies and bigots with what they assumed to be their weapons, only to watch it getting gradually transformed into a shield, wielded by compassion and pride and protectiveness of all things, even while they probably have zero notion to realize what it is exactly that makes them so unnerved about Eddie and makes them lose some interest in picking at him. meanwhile no one in his immediate circle has indeed ever assumed the gender oddities to be merely a "phase" or a temporal obscure caprice, and instead have welcomed him as he is, even if sometimes without necessarily fully understanding his identity, but always making an effort to make Eddie feel accepted

and a shoutout/callout for Eddie’s gender dysphoria being a bigger motivator for workouts (and sticking to a Routine in general cuz gods know his undiagnosed ADHD brain is rudely making everything so much harder than it's got any right to be) than any PE classes have ever hoped to be. his arms may have already been used to occasional soreness due to the sheer stamina it takes to pull off some metal riffs and solos but it’s good to have Steve explain how to tailor a perfect workout routine for him and get the best out of it. it’s just as good to one day hear Nancy suggest subtly contouring his face with a bit of makeup but shape the shadows and highlights in a somewhat more male-typical way. and now that it can be more efficient and natural-looking to use the facial features of the male relatives as a point of reference, Eddie brings an old photo of his uncle for Nancy to have as a vague reference, does it with a fluttering heart bc in a way it’d make him and Wayne more of a family than he ever felt with his dad, more of safe place to land where he feels he belongs, so suddenly gaining an extra sth to further establish the connection with his true family can’t go wrong with him

yessss, of course CC would think that it’s extremely metal of him! of him and Gareth alike (though tbh i’ve still not quite decided about how exactly i hc him, i just know that he does in fact give huge Genderqueer Vibes, whatever those might be, idk in my head he can be amab nonbinary or transmasc or sth else entirely, depending on a ficlet idea), and Jeff and Lloyd no idea why but he’s been Lloyd in my head and in my fic are always eager to welcome the both of them (in the scenario where Gareth’s also transmasc ofc) into boyhood and offer unconditional and sincere encouragement. (and once Eddie eventually meets El for the first time he can offer her the same support and encouragement and assure her that ’s as pretty and bitchin’ and badass as she wants to be regardless of what her hair currently looks like)

[obligatory disclaimer that wrecking your voice and driving it to the point of pain is probably the most important thing not to do when working on it, whether it be for trans reasons or for learning harsh metal vocals reasons] fvbhdbv pranking Higgins this way is sth he would totally do, thank you for the 100/10 delightful mental image! but yeah, he would slowly learn to mentally deconstruct all the voices he hears around him on daily basis and try to distinguish what exactly makes them sound the way they do, especially in the gender context. and, step by step, learn how to add the right kind of gravel and depth into his own voice and how to consistently use it throughout different parts of his range. being a theater kid (and after all he’s been used to acting, having pretended to be someone he’s just not for such a long chunk of his life) and later on a Dungeon Master is only a bonus and an extra excuse to work on his voice and eventually be capable to use it as a gateway for doing an impressive variety of character voices both in the school’s drama club and during his D&D sessions when introducing different NPCs. as everything else it’s not exactly a fast process but with time it does yield results and Eddie can’t be happier whenever he notices his progress

okay so your trans art binge-reblog spree yesterday kinda synced up with me having Intense Gender Feels so please allow me the liberty of gently knocking at your inbox again bc I feel a mighty need to unleash some trans!Eddie headcanons on you >.>

imagine the sheer emancipation of Eddie growing out his hair again after he had cut it short when first moving in with Wayne but this time long hair feels different and so, so much freeing bc it's no longer a stupid social expectation rooted in sth that isn't even true about him but instead a personal choice, one deeply connected with the music that comforts and inspires him like nothing else

imagine the freedom of him first realizing he's trans and how things — maybe not all things but at least some of them — suddenly fell into place from just knowing who he is, even if back then he had no opportunity and no safe place to as much as think about trying to socially transition. just feeling like his authentic self for once, without the weight of others' preconceptions about all the arbitrary ways he's supposed to be. he might've been unable to tell anyone at that time but simply having that knowledge to himself was liberating from the years of having felt like there's sth wrong with him. liberating bc now he knew for a fact that there wasn't. how can this be wrong if it made him feel like himself for the first time maybe ever?

imagine him hesitantly knocking on his uncle's door in the middle of the night when he had no choice but to run away from home. imagine the surprise on Wayne's face and all the unyielding unquestioning trust and comfort he's got for him, so thorough and genuine that it only takes him a few days to come out despite the fear. and then Wayne's silence breaks into a question of what name his nephew would like to called then. the words startling soon-to-be-Eddie into a impulsive hug, which is returned with utmost care and with quiet thinking-out-loud rambling of whether Wayne's got any clothes that would fit his nephew and that he would feel comfortable in

imagine the joy when Eddie gets a fake ID from Reefer Rick one day

imagine him making friends with the rest of Corroded Coffin guys and, when he gathers the courage and trust to come out, being met with support, ranging from confusion and a promise to eventually get how any of it works and to respect Eddie's pronouns etc, to deep understanding that hardly needs words bc you know you're being seen for who you actually are

imagine Eddie working on his voice and ending up achieving some success partly thanks to singing along to his favorite songs and trying to learn harsh metal vocals and at first scaring everyone around by going over the top with them until he figures out ways to train his voice to be more masculine sounding without resorting to that kind of harshness (and developing multiple fun vocal stims on the way)

imagine Eddie getting together with Steve and as a bonus gaining the perfect person to get advice from when it comes to figuring out a workout routine for his purposes

imagine the relief of knowing there are multiple people who you can be your authentic self with and who love you for this and would never change a single thing about what makes you yourself

oof well, I kinda carried away "a bit" (meanwhile the Feels have only intensified further whoops) and these are in no particular order but I really hope you'll like this humble offering. have a restful fulfilling weekend💜

LIAM!!!! LIAM!!!!! I am always ready for transing the narrative (been in some gender struggles too so let’s be in this together 🤝) I’m going to be running commentary replying so if it’s incoherent or accidentally cover something said later I’m sorry!!

- the hair!! YES!!! I feel like he had long hair before and felt pushed into have short hair in order to be taken seriously in his identity but what he always really wanted to be was ‘just a boy with long hair’ and the more it grows the happier he gets becuase THIS!! THIS!!! Is who he feels like he should have always been!!! This feel RIGHT! When it gets past the length of being ‘acceptable’ for a boy and starts brushing his shoulders he hasn’t never felt more strongly that he is Right. That this is Who He Is, this is Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson is a societal expectation-dodging BOY

- THE ACCEPTANCE AND REALISATION!!! What if he was going around as a child saying kid stuff like ‘when will I grow a beard?’ And being hushed by his elders (before Wayne). Going along with what was given to him, be it toys or clothes because his family didn’t have a lot so he’s not going to ask for more but knowing that they didn’t feel right. That he was performing a character for these people and hoping it would be enough for them, for himself. It’s not, something still feels wrong and he can’t figure out. But then, then he gets the keys to the kingdom, he moves in with Wayne and Wayne gives him some money and sets him loose in the thrift shop. At the start he sifts through the girl’s rails but all of the sizes are wrong for him. So wayne just suggests the boys racks because hey it’s just T-shirts and we need to get you stuff that fits. He guides eddie to the plain T-shirts, not thinking much of it. Not thinking it’ll be a Realisation in the young mind of his nephew. Eddie goes home with 2 boys T-shirts that day and from then on gravitates to exclusively wearing them. Next thrift shop visit eddie makes a beeline to the boys section and doesn’t look back.

- AHHH WAYNE AND COMING OUT I LOVE YOUR VERSION!!! What about Wayne passing a couple of shirts on to Eddie? A hat too? And a belt because god knows Eddie’s buying the jeans that hide his hips and needs something to hold them up. Wayne starts calling eddie ‘son’ and ��boy’. Every time it’s like Christmas lights have been turned on behind his eyes. He feels dizzy with it, can’t contain himself, has to clench his fists to stop himself from shaking becuase this? This feels right. It fees Correct and knowing Wayne is here with him is the ballast he needs to secure himself on this unpredictable ride.

-CORRODED COFFIN SAYING ITS SO METAL OF HIM. (I personally also hc Gareth as trans so I like to think that Jeff and Freak are always ready to be Boys and show them Boy Stuff. Like alongside band practice they had Boy Practice at the start and now they can burp the alphabet in harmony and can armpit fart guitar solos and play fight and are just GOOFY)

- eddie going to a gig or band practice and then the next morning waking up with a slightly wrecked voice that he /loves/. He surreptitiously tries to maintain it, shouting lyrics in his room and just screaming sometimes but it starts to get painful and he accepts he has to find a different way. He listens to the radio with Wayne, asks to go with him when Wayne’s work friends plan a couple of drinks in one of their yards. Eddie gets to go to a couple, gets to listen to Wayne’s country and rock radio stations. Gets to hear these men talking and tries out phrases he hears when he’s on his own, records them on a tape deck he found in the thrift by luck one day. Records and re-records until he gets it right. Until he can prank call principle Higgins and get shouted at down the phone ‘I’ll find out who your father is boy! He’ll have your hide!’ The peak is when he goes into scoops and gets everything he wanted ‘hey man, how’s it going?’ From the offensively cute sailor with the big hands and strawberry sweet smile

- WORKOUT SUPPORT STEVE. YES. YES ABSOLUTELY!!! Steve showing him that he can’t just hit upper body every day, that he has to get everywhere. That he needs to make his core thicker if he wants that boy look. That working on his quads and calves will help, he promises it won’t leave him a big butt and tiny waist. (Not unless he wants Steve’s routine, that boy is going to work on his ass-ets okay?) eddie doing his first full push up with Proper Form and feeling the muscles in his back move and thinks yes. This is Good. God knows he’s not great at sticking to it but when it serves a purpose and it means he gets to ogle his boyfriend? Kind of a win win

- TBE LAST POINT!!! Yes!!! Eddie living in subconscious fear for so long that he pushes the very notion of being a Boy down. so far Down and Away that he won’t ever let it see the light of day. Or so he thinks. He tells himself that he is fine, that this is fine. But it isn’t and he doesn’t know what feels wrong. Until it slowly starts to change at a glacial speed. He tries different things. Starting only in his room, makes jokes that he thinks he can get away with in front of Wayne. Pushes it further, does more Boy things with corroded coffin. Sees that it’s okay? They are okay with it? With how he is? Sees that Wayne just nods at him and doesn’t make a fuss? That Wayne’s friends don’t bay an eye somehow? (Sure some guys at work do, but Wayne makes sure they know where their opinions aren’t wanted. That Wayne and his group aren’t to be taken lightly on the topic of Wayne’s nephew)

Eddie experiencing so much acceptance and love and there being so venom in it. No ‘waiting’ for it all to pass and Eddie to go back to ‘normal’. Eddies never been normal and that’s a badge he starts to wear with pride. With defiance. Knowing that he has everyone he could ever need how could be not?

[thebeatles-world]

Lights will guide you home

A Liam Payne tribute imagine 🫶🕊️❤️‍🩹

Y/N reacts to Liam Payne’s death on October 16, 2024:

It didn’t seem real. The headline flashing on your phone didn’t make sense, not now, not ever. Liam Payne dies at 31. You read it over and over, your hands shaking, trying to comprehend what was happening. You felt your chest tighten, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, leaving you gasping for breath.

“No… no, no, no, this can’t be happening,” you whispered to yourself, tears already welling in your eyes. Your mind raced with memories—those nights spent listening to his music, watching interviews where his laugh lit up the screen, scrolling through his social media just to catch a glimpse of his life. He’d been such a constant presence, someone who always felt within reach, yet so far away.

You collapsed onto the couch, clutching your phone to your chest as sobs overtook you. You didn’t know Liam personally, but in so many ways, he had been there for you. During your hardest moments, his songs had been your escape, his voice your comfort. Now, he was gone, and the world felt a little darker, a little quieter.

The messages started pouring in—friends who knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you. But no amount of words could fill the void his loss left in your heart.

As the hours passed, you found yourself scrolling through old photos and videos, watching his smile, hearing his voice, as if holding onto those moments could bring him back. But all it did was remind you of what the world had lost, what you had lost—a source of light, of joy, now dimmed forever.

“I miss you already,” you whispered through your tears, staring at a photo of him smiling brightly. “I wish you knew how much you meant to all of us.”

The night seemed endless, and you knew that the pain of losing him would take time to heal. But somehow, in the quiet of your room, with his music softly playing in the background, you felt a sliver of peace. He might be gone, but the memories, the music, and the love—those would never fade.

[dee-writes-angst]

DROWNING

FEATURING Liam Mairi x reader

SUMMARY seeing the ghost of you hurts almost as bad as watching you go.

CONTENT WARNINGS major character loss, depression, depictions of grief

AUTHORS NOTE I don't know what it is right now, but I am just living for writing about grief. Sorry, not sorry! <3

"Look at me," Liam croaks from where he's splayed out on the ground by Deigh. Violet is sobbing loudly in Xaden's arms on the other side of him, but you can't hear them. Not when your ears feel like they've been filled with cotton when the love of your life is lying weakly on the ground beside you dying.

He's dying.

Oh gods.

As the realization sinks in, a heavy weight presses against your chest, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic rises like a tide within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. You reach out to Liam, your hands trembling as they hover over him, unsure of what to do, of how to help him.

"Stay with me, Liam," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, yet it reverberates with desperation. "Please, don't leave me."

But Liam's eyes are distant, glassy orbs that seem to stare into a void beyond your reach. His breathing is shallow, each exhale a painful reminder of his fragile state. You feel a tear escape your eye, tracing a path down your cheek as you struggle to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to engulf you.

Around you, the world seems to blur into an indistinct haze. The sounds of chaos and anguish fade into a distant hum, overshadowed by the deafening silence that fills your ears. All that exists in this moment is Liam, lying motionless before you, his life slipping away with each passing second.

Memories flood your mind like a torrential downpour, each one a bittersweet reminder of the moments you've shared together. The laughter, the tears, the whispered promises exchanged in the dead of night—they all swirl together in a kaleidoscope of emotions, too painful to bear yet too precious to let go.

You clench your fists, feeling the sting of helplessness gnawing at your insides. You would give anything—anything at all—to turn back time, to undo whatever led you to this moment, to save Liam from this cruel fate.

But time is a relentless force, indifferent to your pleas and regrets. And as you watch the light slowly fade from Liam's eyes, you realize with a sinking heart that there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"Please, Liam," you whisper, your voice cracking with grief. "I love you."

Liam's gaze meets yours, a flicker of recognition dances in his fading eyes. His lips part, words trembling on the precipice of his breath. With a herculean effort, he manages to muster the strength to speak, his voice barely a whisper, but each syllable heavy with emotion.

"Please…," he rasps, his voice barely audible above the din of chaos surrounding you. "You have to… keep living. For me."

His words strike you like a dagger to the heart, the pain of his plea tearing through the fragile facade of composure you've struggled to maintain. Tears stream down your cheeks unabated, hot and salty against your skin as you shake your head in disbelief.

"No, Liam," you choke out, your voice raw with anguish. "I can't… I can't do this without you."

But Liam's hand finds yours, his touch feeble yet filled with a quiet strength that belies his frailty. His fingers intertwine with yours, holding on with a determination born of love and desperation.

"You have to," he insists, his voice growing weaker with each passing moment. "You're stronger than you think… You can't let this… destroy you."

His words hang in the air like a solemn vow, a testament to the depth of his love and the sacrifice he's willing to make for you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the truth mirrored within them—the agonizing realization that this is goodbye.

A sob escapes your lips, a gut-wrenching cry that echoes through the desolate landscape of your heart. You bury your face in Liam's chest, clinging to him with a desperation born of fear and despair.

"I can't do this without you," you whisper brokenly, your voice a mere shadow of its former strength. "Please, don't leave me."

But Liam's grip weakens, his breaths growing shallower with each passing second. His eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, there's nothing but the deafening silence of impending loss.

Then, with a final exhale, he slips away, leaving behind nothing but the hollow ache of his absence. And as you cradle his lifeless form in your arms, the weight of his words settles over you like a shroud, a solemn reminder of the unbearable burden of grief that now lies ahead.

For in that moment, you realize that you've lost more than just the love of your life—you've lost a part of yourself, a piece of your soul that can never be replaced. And as you mourn the emptiness that now fills your heart, you know that nothing will ever be the same again.

There is no respite from the suffocating weight of grief that hangs heavy around your neck, dragging you down into the depths of despair.

You move through the world like a shadow of your former self, hollow and numb, the spark of life extinguished from your eyes. Friends and loved ones reach out to offer comfort, but their words fall on deaf ears, their gestures meaningless in the face of the gaping chasm that now consumes your soul.

Nights are the cruelest, long and lonely stretches of darkness that stretch on into eternity. You lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind consumed by thoughts of Liam—of all the things you wish you had said, all the moments you wish you could relive, all the ways you failed to save him.

The pain is relentless, a constant companion that gnaws at your insides, leaving you hollow and empty. You try to drown it out with alcohol, with drugs, with anything that will numb the ache in your heart, but nothing can fill the void left by Liam's absence.

And so, you continue to exist, day after day, trapped in a never-ending cycle of sorrow and regret. You wonder if it would have been easier if you had died with him, if you could have spared yourself this endless torment.

But deep down, you know that even death would offer no escape from the torment of your memories, no relief from the agony of your loss. And so you carry on, a shell of the person you once were, forever haunted by the ghost of the love you lost.

Days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, but the ache in my heart remained unyielding, a constant reminder of the void that Liam's absence had left behind. I found myself adrift in a sea of memories, unable to escape the relentless tide of grief that threatened to consume me.

Each morning brought with it a new battle, a struggle to find the strength to face another day without him by my side. I would drag myself out of bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, my mind clouded with sorrow, and force myself to move forward, one agonizing step at a time.

But no matter how hard I tried to bury my pain beneath layers of routine and responsibility, it always found a way to claw its way back to the surface, a gaping wound that refused to heal. I would catch myself staring blankly at the wall, lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, my mind a swirling maelstrom of regret and longing.

It was in those moments of quiet desperation that I would feel him—Liam's presence hovering just beyond the edge of my consciousness, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness. I would close my eyes and reach out to him, my fingers grasping at the empty air, longing for the warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice, the comfort of his embrace.

But he was always just out of reach, a ghostly apparition that danced on the fringes of my perception, taunting me with the promise of solace that I knew would never come. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to let go—not when the mere thought of him was the only thing keeping me tethered to the world of the living.

I tried to lose myself in my work, throwing myself into my studies with a fervor bordering on obsession. But no matter how many hours I spent buried in books, no matter how many experiments I conducted in the sterile confines of the lab, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at my soul.

My friends and family tried to help, offering their support and encouragement in the hopes of lifting my spirits. They would invite me out for dinner, take me for long walks in the park, even organize weekend getaways to try and distract me from my pain.

But I couldn't escape the suffocating weight of grief that hung over me like a shroud, a darkness that followed me wherever I went, tainting even the most mundane moments with its oppressive presence. I would smile and nod and pretend to be okay, but inside, I was crumbling, piece by agonizing piece.

It wasn't until one particularly dark night, when the weight of my sorrow threatened to crush me beneath its relentless onslaught, that I finally reached my breaking point. I found myself standing on the edge of a precipice, staring out into the yawning abyss that stretched out before me, the urge to let go—to surrender to the sweet release of oblivion—almost overwhelming.

But then, in the depths of my despair, I felt a hand on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that pulled me back from the brink. I turned, expecting to see nothing but the empty darkness of my own mind, but instead, I found myself face to face with Liam—or rather, a ghostly apparition that bore his likeness.

I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. "Liam?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath in the stillness of the night.

He smiled—a sad, wistful smile that tugged at my heartstrings. "It's me," he said, his voice a mere whisper in the silence that surrounded us.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling with disbelief. "But how?" I asked, my voice choked with emotion. "How is this possible?"

Liam's smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sadness. "I'm not really here," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm just a figment of your imagination—a manifestation of your grief."

I shook my head, unwilling to accept the truth. "No," I protested, my voice rising in desperation. "You're real. You're here with me. I can feel you."

But Liam's expression remained unchanged, his eyes filled with a quiet resignation. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible above the sound of my own heartbeat. "I wish I could stay, but I can't. You have to let me go."

I felt a surge of panic rise within me, a primal instinct that screamed out in protest. "No," I cried, my voice echoing in the emptiness that surrounded us. "I won't. I can't. I need you."

But Liam shook his head, his features fading into the darkness like smoke on the wind. "You don't need me," he said, his voice a distant echo in the recesses of my mind. "You're stronger than you think. You have to find the strength to carry on, even without me."

And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the darkness, the emptiness of his absence a physical ache that echoed in the depths of my soul. I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face, my heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.

But even as I wept, a small seed of hope took root within me—a tiny flicker of light amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. I realized that Liam was right—that I couldn't continue to cling to him, to the memory of what we once had.

I had to find a way to let go—to honor his memory by living my life to the fullest, by embracing the future with open arms, even in the face of uncertainty and pain. It wouldn't be easy, I knew, but I was determined to try—for Liam, and for myself.

And so, with a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, I picked myself up off the ground and began to walk—away from the edge of the abyss, away from the darkness that had threatened to consume me, toward a future filled with possibility and hope.

It wouldn't happen overnight, I knew. The road ahead would be long and difficult, fraught with challenges and setbacks that would test my resolve at every turn. But I was ready—ready to face whatever the future held, armed with nothing but my love for Liam and the knowledge that he would always be with me, guiding me every step of the way.

And as I walked, the darkness began to recede, slowly but surely, replaced by the warm glow of dawn breaking on the horizon. I smiled, tears still streaming down my face, but now they were tears of hope, of gratitude, of a newfound sense of purpose.

For even though Liam was gone, his love remained—a beacon of light that would guide me through the darkest nights and lead me toward a future filled with possibility and promise.

And with that thought in my heart, I took my first steps into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that I would never truly be alone. Liam would always be with me, a whisper in the wind, a flicker of light in the darkness, a love that would never fade away.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 38

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Betrayal and anger is all I can feel from Violet as she takes in what’s just happened. Her eyes scan over us all as the Gryphon fliers leave. I can see how nervous she is as she takes us all in, her gaze hardening as it lands on Liam and I. Xaden and Garrick approach her as if she’s a startled animal, worried she could dart off if they make the slightest wrong move. So similar to who I’d approached Garrick last night.

”Were we ever really friends?” She whispers, turning to Liam and I. Her voice void of any emotion.

”We are friends, Violet, but I owe him everything.” Liam answers solemnly as he looks at her. “We all do. And once you give him a chance to explain-”

Another wave of anger barrels into me, causing me to stumble back into Bodhi who reaches out and steadies me. Bloody hell. She was angry.

”You watched me train with him!” She yells, shoving Liam’s chest, causing him to stumble back towards me which brings her attention back to me. “You both stood by and watched me fall for him! You told me I made the right choice!”

”Oh shit.” Bodhi whispers behind me.

”Violence, let me explain.” Xaden says as he steps towards her.

We all take a collective step back as power ripples through the air around Violet as she turns towards Xaden. “If you even think about touching me, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” As if to cement her point lighting cracks across the sky.

”I think she means it.” Liam mutters as he stares up at the clouds.

”I know she does. Everybody, go back to the shore. Now.” Xaden commands, his focus fully on Violet.

We all hesitantly leave them. I know Xaden can handle himself, but Violet’s signet could be dangerous when she’s angry. Already proven by the lightning she’s managed to summon without even trying to.

And we do. I turn my back on my brother and Violet. And for the first time in my life, I’m actually scared to leave him alone with her as another lighting strike careens across the sky above me. Malek help us all.

”Well that went well.” Bodhi mutters sarcastically as we all make it back to the dragons.

”Well? You think that went well? She nearly fried us all.” Liam states as he looks at Bodhi as if he’s sprouted a second head.

”But she didn’t.” He states, just as another lighting strike happens. “Well not yet anyway.”

”She wont.” I tell them as I sit down against a boulder, leaning my head back against it as I shut my eyes. “She might be pissed, but she still loves him.”

”If it wasn’t for your damn signet I’d be questioning you a lot right now. She’s about ready to kill him.” Imogen states as she joins us.

Garrick chuckles, “So was Ophelia when she figured it out.”

”I was always curious, how did you find out about this? I knew Xaden planned to tell you, but he never said how you figured it out before he got a chance to.” Imogen asks, the gravel shifting next to me as she sits next to me.

I open my eyes and point over at Garrick. “This idiot over here got me one of my favourite foods that you can only get from Gryphon fliers.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation we’re in and what has just happened Imogen and Liam burst into laugher, Garrick glaring at the two of them as Bodhi stifles his laughter.

”And you’re meant to be the observant one.” Imogen jokes as she smirks at Garrick, causing him to glare at her more.

”Get ready to go. As soon as those two are done we’re leaving.” Garrick growls before walking off towards Chradh, leaving us all behind to fall into a fit of laughter.

Something is wrong. Something is very very wrong. This outpost is empty. Too empty for an active outpost.

”What the hell?” Garrick striding past us to observe the courtyard in the centre of the structure.

Our footsteps echo off the walls way more than they should. This outpost should have hundreds of infantry and riders stationed here. But as I reach out with my signet to feel for anyone else, I come up short. We’re the only ones here.

”Stop. There’s no one here. Divide and search.” Xaden commands us before turning to Violet and I. “You stay with Garrick, and you don’t leave my side. I don’t think this is a War Game.”

I nod and pivot on my heel to follow Garrick who waits in one of the archways with Imogen. Imogen leads the way as Garrick falls into step next to me, one hand grasped around a sword, the other ghosting my lower back. We search every room we come across. All of them abandoned and empty. Not a single thing left behind or out of place. This was planned and thought out. These people based here had time to pack up and leave. Finally we make it to the third floor where a lot of the leadership we’re based at outposts. Their offices lining the corridor. The three of us split up, knowing we need to hurry up. Just like the other rooms every thing is empty. Till the last one. Sitting on the desk in the centre of the room is an envelope. And envelope addressed to my brother.

War Games for Xaden Riorson, Wingleader of Fourth Wing.

I immediately recognise the hand writing. I’d seen it many times before while being under Melgren’s care. Colonel Aetos. That was his hand writing. Countless time’s I had been tasked with passing documents and letters between the pair. There was no denying that was his hand writing. I grasp the letter in my hand, rushing out the door and nearly crashing into Garrick who had clearly come to find me. He goes to ask me something, but as I hold the letter out to him he snaps his mouth shut. His eyes focusing on the letter in my hand. He takes it from me before grabbing my hand and leading me down the corridor to the stairs that will take us up to the tower.

”Imogen, we found something.” He calls out before rushing up the stairs.

I hear Imogen rushing to catch up to us as we bound up the stairs. I have to let go of Garrick’s hand due to him being able to skip multiple steps at a time due to this longer stride.

”I have something!” Garrick calls out, clearly being able to see Xaden from the tower.

As I make it to the top, I see Garrick vault over the edge to cross over to Xaden via the thick rampart connecting us to where the others are. Imogen and I quickly follow after him to join the others. I can already tell as we get closer Xaden has pieced together part of why we are here. The worry on his face is crystal clear as he looks down at Violet. Shit.

”It’s addressed to you.” Garrick says to Xaden as he hands him the envelope.

Violet glances at the letter, her eyes skimming the hand writing on the front. And I can tell she knows who it’s from as well. “That’s from Colonel Aetos.”

”What does it say?” Garrick asks, folding his arms over his chest as he waits for Xaden to tell him what it says. “What’s our assignment?”

”Guys, I see something just past the trading post,” Liam says to us as he looks over the village below us. “Oh shit.”

At the same time I feel the panic set in from both Liam and Xaden. I quickly rush over to Xaden and take the letter from him. My eyes quickly skimming over the contents. Oh shit. Instantly Garrick is at my side, my face clearly betraying my emotions as I stare up at Xaden in panic. We have been sent here to die.

”It says our mission is to survive if we can.” Xaden says glumly.

Garrick shakes his head at us, lacing his fingers behind his head. “That’s not….”

”Guys, this is bad.” Liam shouts as Imogen rushes to his side.

Xaden looks back at Violet who is very much blaming her self right now for what’s happening based off the guilt I can feel flowing off of her. “This isn’t your fault.” But I can tell she doesn’t believe his words as he turns to look at us all. His eyes settling on me. Our conversation from earlier becoming reality with the words that leave his mouth. “We’ve been sent here to die.”

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 12: Beholden

Word Count: 4.4k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Tav (female reader)

Warnings: 18+. (light) Sub!Astarion. Symptoms of resulting trauma described, mention of past SA and abuse.

A/N: KT now updates every Sunday :)

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

Killing Time Masterlist

Link to AO3

When you fly out into the cool night air, the blackness of the night consumes you. Every flap of your wings, every chatter coming from behind you as Astarion flies at your heels, you feel that void of darkness. It makes you wince, and you’re back on your feet shortly after you’ve breached the palace walls. Being closer to the city lights helps ease that strange fear. When you land, you stumble forward, the pads of your bare feet slapping on stone.

You find yourself in the middle of the street, taking in the eerie emptiness of your surroundings. Astarion’s arm is around you before you can react further, pulling you behind a building as you both sense the thumping of a heart. But the curious thing here is that the city is quiet, far more than it should be.

“Star?” You whisper, but Astarion merely hushes you in reply. He holds you closely in the darkness, and you try to drown out the drum of Astarion’s own heart to focus on another: the mortal, a guard, walks rather close to the two of you, briefly inspecting the area. A quick look into his mind reveals the guard is thinking of his latest fuck and mug of ale, believing himself lucky he wasn’t put on the front lines. Those men on the front never see the women or the booze.

“The front lines?” Your words come out, blurted, reminding your doting husband that being sneaky was never your specialty.

“Hey!” The man shouts in your direction, running toward the sound of your voice. Breaking away from Astarion, you step out from the corner. The street is brightly lit, and you can see both the fear and amusement in the man’s eyes: he thinks you are a pretty thing, in your little panties, and he can see your nipples through your shirt. But your scars tell a dark story, one that frightens him: not to mention you jumped from around a bend, which would startle any mortal, especially in the dead of night.

The guard starts to scramble away, but you outstretch your hand to him, beckoning him to you.

“Be still, gentleman.” Your words of charm pierce through whatever layer of protection his weak mind ever had. He was yours, now. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, nearly stopping when Astarion turns the corner. But under your control, he continues to walk toward you.

Astarion’s taking off his own shirt, tying it around your waist to hide your pretty panties from this stranger.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice harsh and snippy. You’re clearly testing his patience, but he can’t hide the curiosity: he’s letting you act out, you know.

“Listening,” You speak slowly. “Come here to me, Liam.”

The guard, Liam, eagerly approaches you. Seeing you close up, he’s even more frightened of you, thinking your gaze harsh and cold. He’s noticed your lack of breath, your lack of natural movement. Liam nearly loses control of his bowels as he comes to understand you are a creature of the night. But the pig of a man is still thinking about your nipples, despite this. You push those thoughts away, digging through his mind until you find the information you seek.

You’re thinking about asking Astarion if you could eat the man, or maybe you would do so without asking, just to see how he’d react – but Astarion grabs you by the arm before you can decide. “That’s enough, Tav. We’re going.”

In one quick motion, Astarion scoops you up in his arms, teleporting the two of you back into the foyer of the palace. After adjusting the both of you back in bed, Astarion’s questions begin.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Astarion’s voice hides nothing of his frustration.

“Yes,” You reply, trying to keep your voice even.”Was there a draft of mortal soldiers or something? Is the political situation in Faerun really so fragile?”

“It’s been that way for many years,” Astarion explains. “And has now come to a boiling point. But I don’t want you to worry about that.” Astarion’s habit -or staunch faith- of telling you only selective information based on the level of stress it may cause you hasn’t changed.

Seeing the concern on your face, Astarion softens, his irritation with you visibly waning by the second. “Please trust me on this, love.”

You nod involuntarily, because you are used to trusting Astarion’s judgment on what you should and shouldn’t worry about; you are still injured, after all. But you feel hesitant with your agreement, and Astarion must sense it too, because his face twists, the look so foreign to you it causes your gut to turn. He looks like he’s in pain.

He’s at a loss for words, and you are too. You feel yourself already wrapped up in Astarion’s tumultuous emotions, ones you can’t know anymore. Ones that you have to guess based on his body language, his words: and right now, you know there is something on the tip of his tongue that he cannot bring himself to say aloud.

You sit up in bed, crossing your legs as you peer down at him. You bring your hand to cup his cheek, softly run a fingertip down the length of his elegant ear, trailing little circles on his jaw and neck.

Astarion shudders, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. Your touch immediately soothes him, and when your fingers tickle against his chest, he holds your palm there, bringing it flat: resting it atop his ever-beating heart.

You don’t study his face for much long before deciding that you need to be closer to one another.

“Come here. Let me hold you,” You offer as you nudge him towards you. Astarion doesn’t hesitate: having widened your legs so that his larger form would fit comfortably, your arms snake around his body, your lips resting at the crown of his head. You can’t help but take a deep breath. “You smell so good...”

He chuckles in reply, nuzzling himself closer to you.

Your husband was taller than the average elven male, his shoulders broad and well shaped. It was only a little awkward to be holding him in this way, but Astarion is practically purring. You place kisses on the tip of his ear, causing an audible sigh of relief to escape his handsome lips.

His whimpers cause a stir between your legs. The way your cunt is clenching, little spasms of arousal overtaking your core, is impossible to ignore, and you can’t help but sweep your eyes over his perfect body, every part you could see. You want to worship it the way it deserves: the way Astarion wants you to.

You both are desperate for release in each other.

Suddenly, Astarion turns his head, shifting to your shoulder as he gazes up at you. You have to use your strength to hold him, but this feels good to you, for some reason. Cradling his warm body, feeling his muscles and his weight in your arms; he feels so good.

“I never meant to scare you so badly. I just wanted to touch you,” His expression and his words are almost boyish, bringing a youth to him that you haven’t seen in a very long time. He is so pretty; his ruby eyes are so soft, wet with gentle tears, lashes long and inviting. “I want you, my treasure. I need you…”

The two of you continuously search in each other's eyes, as if you’re expecting your minds to become one.

“Darling,” Astarion says, dragging your hand down his abdomen, resting it on the waistband of his underclothes. He doesn’t know how else to ask.

The moment your fingers slip beneath his underclothes, Astarion devolves into a fit of desperation: he moans, his hand grabbing your cheek to pull you into a passionate, fervent kiss. His tongue slips between your lips, the soft warmth of his muscle dancing along your own. He tastes so good, and he’s so warm. His kisses are needy, desperate; you feel the wetness of his cheeks as your lips transcend his, because you can’t hold yourself back anymore. You kiss him wherever you can, and Astarion can only soak it in.

Think of Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. He’s your husband, and you’re safe with him! So why are you thinking of that soulless drow and his evil master?

“Touch me,” Astarion says as he guides your hand to his cock, which you take in your palm, wrapping your fingers around his length. Astarion shudders as you begin to stroke him. You’re gentle, almost tentative, because you were hardly in control over Astarion’s body like this. But there is a look in his eyes: he wants this.

Two of your fingers and your thumb rubs at Astarion’s sensitive tip. It’s so pink, so swollen, pre-come already leaking from him. You pull back his foreskin, tenderly working the sensitive skin, making him writhe in your arms. Astarion can’t help but thrust into you, encouraging your motions.

Teasing him, you try to pull away, but Astarion doesn’t let you. He’s crying your name, desperate for your touch. In one swift movement, you take your finger, gathering his clear liquid seeping from the tip of his swollen cock. Astarion looks surprised when you bring your finger to his pretty lips, which he takes in his mouth. Tasting your skin and his own fluids, his gaze never leaves yours and eyes only grow hungrier.

You only take your finger from his mouth when you’re ready, kitten licking his tongue as you gently press down on it with a thumb, making him give you access to his mouth. Astarion’s entirely lost in his pleasure, his eyes hazy. The only words your poor husband can utter are pleadings, declarations of love, and your name.

“My love,” Astarion’s words come out rugged, rough, his voice cutting through his lust. “Please – I need you…”

Astarion grabs your wrist, guiding your hand back down to his throbbing cock. He wraps his hand around yours, guiding your hand so your strokes are quicker, faster, as his tongue plunges into your mouth, his fang catching your lip as he devours you.

The moment your crimson hits Astarion’s tongue, he goes mad. He really can’t get enough of you, and he nips at your lip again before bringing his mouth to your neck. He’s planted his hand behind you now, turned towards your body so you have better access to his cock, and he has better access to your neck. You know he’s about to bite through your sensitive flesh.

A snippet of a memory flashes before your eyes: red out of the corner of your eye. your limbs are numb. you push, but the red object does not relent, only further molesting you. his fangs feel like knives in your skin, flesh ripping. that searing pain– you’re able to push these thoughts away, shoving them into the recesses of your mind.

Before Astarion can bite down, your hand flies to his chin, pulling his attention back to your gaze. The way he looks at you is curious; you’ve caught him off guard, his face pulled into a gentle bewilderment, his pupils dilated in deep sexual desire.

“No,” You breathe, your lips almost brushing against his.

“No?” Astarion’s voice comes out quiet, breathless. His eyes are wide, desperate. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, and you know your deviation is greatly exciting him.

“No.” You confirm.“I bite you,” You say, your words sultry and smooth, causing your husband to let out a little moan. “Because you are mine.”

Your words come with an involuntary growl; the scent of Astarion’s arousal was thick in the air, the tension between you two becoming hotter by the second.

“I-“ He searches his words and your eyes, as if he would find them in you. “I’m yours?”

You release his jaw, moving to tease his sensitive tip with your fingers, spreading his slick down his shaft. “Yes. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You feel Astarion go slack in your arms; you’re holding his full upper body weight in your arm now, the other still stroking and toying with his cock.

“Y-yes, I’m yours, I’m yours…” He moans, your lips crashing into his. His cock is even more plump than before, the skin so tight and throbbing beneath your touch; your bodies are wet with sweat and pre-cum, which has pooled at his tip, spilling over the edge as it trails down his shaft.

“P-please, don’t stop,” He struggles to get his words out, his head filled only with pleasure and devotion.

You ease Astarion on his back, hovering above him as you continue your ministrations, every stroke causing him to tremble beneath you. His sticky, clear fluids coat your hand and his cock, only making your touch more slick.

“My pretty girl…“ Astarion begs, but before he can continue his whimpers and desperate pleadings, you straddle him, turning his head with your other hand before sinking your fangs into his flesh.

The sensation of his blood, the scent of his arousal in the air, the feeling of his cock in your hand: gods above. You pull yourself away from his neck in just enough time to watch Astarion squirm beneath you, his hands tangling in the ends of your hair. He’s holding onto you as if his life depends on it, his silver curls pushed back, lazily falling behind him on the silken covered pillow. He’s so beautiful, practically drooling beneath you, fangs peeking beneath his parted lips.

After just a few moments of gazing into your eyes, his sight trails down to your blood stained lips, then to your partially covered breasts. Then, you feel the twitch of his member in your hand as his sex convulses, spasms of pleasure erupting through his body.

Astarion’s shooting thick spurts of come, trailing down your hand as you keep stroking him, riding out his orgasm as you take his moans in your mouth, enveloping his tongue with yours, tasting the mix of his blood and saliva, languidly enjoying the taste of your husband. The smell of his seed is delicious to you, and you fight the urge to lap at his juices with an eager tongue.

You don’t stop your ministrations until he’s breathless, almost begging you to stop, but you continue to work your hand around the tip of his cock, squeezing out every last drop of his come. You don’t let him come up for air, because he doesn’t need it: he only needs you.

“I’m here now,” You whisper to him between languid kisses.

“Don’t make me beg for you anymore, I can’t take it,” Astarion’s words are filled with desperation. His soft moans continue throughout the night, the two of you unable to part until dawn.

****

Lae’zel closely studies the head of Geldon Moth. It was rather large, she thinks, larger than a regular dragonborn’s head. Other than its remarkable size, the sight is rather gruesome, more so than awesome.

“I expected nothing less from our Sarth,” Chae says from behind Lae’zel, where she stands with the other soldiers. “She was fearsome the day of the hunt.”

“I had expected you to say insane, but fearsome works.” Ziir’o adds, causing Chae and the others to giggle.

“Not just the day of the hunt. She’s ruthless even in training,” Joss says uneasily. “I don’t know how many times she’s knocked me out during a spar. Or encouraged someone else to knock me out.”

Lae’zel nearly laughs, but nothing could thwart her serious mood, deeply in thought as she ponders your kill. She thought it was a fitting trophy for the training quarters of the primary Ancunín estate, but again – the sight is more terrible than anything else.

“She literally smashed his fucking head in,” Ziir’o comments with a pride filled smirk. “Where's the rest of him?”

“Mere ash and bone, left in the dirt with his slaves.” Lae’zel’s voice is snippy, but it doesn’t deter the young gith.

“How many did she kill again before Astarion came and dashingly took his bride back to the safety of their gorgeous palace?” Marg’o asks, practically cooing over the thought of Astarion’s pure love for his wife. It was admirable to many, and the number of those who believed love makes the Ancuníns weak is rapidly declining, so maybe there was something to this romantic idea of Astarion, Lae’zel thinks.

Tsk, surely not. Still just a blood sucker. No different than a mosquito. But Lae’zel thinks you’re a rather pretty mosquito. Sometimes she wonders what you would think of her blood, of her taste. She remembers how your tongue felt gliding over her flesh, that soft velvet heat between her legs, and she wondered if you would be gentle with her as you slide fangs beneath her skin. She likes to think you would, just for her…

“A thousand,” Quinel states in a serious tone, but their sarcasm isn’t lost. The younger gith laugh as they way away, continuing on with their day, leaving Lae’zel to brood alone.

“Hmm.” Lae’zel wasn’t sure if this was the right decision. The night of your rescue, after Astarion sent her and the others through the portal, Lae’zel had found the man’s head in the woods; this would only be one of the many other things Lae’zel would come to find quite interesting on this day.

The museum was certainly not safe for anyone to go in, but that hadn’t stopped Lae’zel, who carefully slid through the rubble. She needed to see everything again. Finding so many well preserved old relics dumbfounded her, and she had quickly made her way back to Astarion’s office with whatever she could recover.

She sat at Astarion’s desk shortly after retreating from the broken estate. She had done this many times before your victory, having set up in the Ancunín palace more often than not since she arrived.

Lae’zel can’t look at the dragonborn’s head anymore; she’d rather bury herself in her work, which happened to be on Astarion’s desk.

Now, as Lae’zel eases her way into the luxurious, comfortable chair, she finds that hidden compartment locked away in Astarion’s desk. The same one she found the day of the estate scouting. Her discovery hadn’t really surprised her: it was merely a stack of old letters, ones from Halsin, Gale, Wyll, Shadowheart…many from names she didn’t recognize, all addressed to you. Some of them were so old the pages were yellow, nearly crumbling in Lae’zel’s hands; it was clear they had once been sheltered, at least for a time, before hidden in the depths of Astarion’s desk.

Every single one is unopened.

****

You know you’re dreaming before you even take in the whole scene: your body is floaty, weightless and numb. You can feel the aura of light surrounding you, uplifting your body as you open your eyes and look up, meeting Angel’s gaze.

You’re on your back, grass tickling your exposed skin. Angel is propped on his elbow, peering down at you. One of his wings is wrapped around the two of you, shielding you from the sun.

“It was, like, way too difficult for me to share your dream with you,” Angel’s voice is softer than usual. “I think I deserve a bit of compensation for my efforts~”

Angel’s looking at your lips, his handsome smile cutting into you only a bit. “You’re so pretty, Mrs. Ancunín.” There’s a dreamy look in his eyes as he meets your gaze.

“What do you want?” You demand, ignoring his flirting.

“I could ask you the same thing. You ultimately did let me in here, after all. And trust me, I’ve tried every time you’ve gone to sleep!” Angel explains. “Which has been a lot, so I imagine you want to ask me about that silver. I wondered when you would.”

“I think you were offering.”

“I was. And I still am!” Angel says, rolling over on his back before he swings himself to a seat, crossing his legs as his fingers pull at the grass. You follow suit, sitting up to face him. Looking around, you notice you are close to a sandy beach, one just ways off from the grass.

“I smelled it on you. The grass and the ocean.”

“Yeah, duh. I wanted you to so you’d like me.” Angel looks down. He almost looks uncertain. “There are things I want from you. But…”

Angel pauses. His gold and ruby eyes meet yours.

“The red doesn’t suit you, you know.” You cross your arms. You have a sense of strong dejavu coming over you, thinking of your ex-githyanki lover, who wholly disapproved not only of your newfound warlockracy but of your red eyes. Red eye, now. Just one. But Lae’zel probably doesn’t like the gold, either.

Angel laughs, bringing his muscled arms above him in a stretch before placing his palms to the ground behind him. His abs tighten, and you see his cock growing, thick and pulsating between his thighs.

Why the hells does he always have to be naked!?

“Stare all you want, girl. Say the word and it’s yours,” Angel purrs with lust filled eyes, hooded and wanting.

You roll your eyes. “Just tell me what you want.”

Angel sighs. “I have to think about it. For now, I can create a sealant,” He explains. “It will help with the pain and fatigue, at the very least. I can feel it in your body, you know.”

You shake your head, ignoring that last part. You can also sense his wellness, but you don’t want him to know that, because you know he’ll be weird about it. “They’ve already tried that.”

“None of them are me, Mrs. Ancunín! And I’ll do it for free…if you kiss me and accept your boon~”

You give him a deadly stare. You are trying to decide: you fought with the silver on, so it’s certainly possible to get this vague ‘task’ done with it, but Angel said you needed the boon for the task. Of course, he won’t say what the boon is or precisely why you need it; but the silver is rather bothersome. It was a constant ache, a chronic pain and reminder of the suffering you experienced. You want the damn thing off.

You’re surprised when Angel’s face drops, his smile devolving to a smirk. You stare at each other like this for some time. Angel is the one to break the silence, his eyes still locked into yours.“You’re like…a yellow watermelon, you know. Ever had one of those?”

You shake your head. “I only really like to -”

“Drink blood, yeah, I got it,” Angel looks away for a moment, that smirk briefly leaving his face. “Yellow watermelons are sweeter, lighter on the tongue. Something about your nature…you're a vampire, the very definition of temptation and desire. But you walk in the sun, you have a reflection. Your soul isn’t as tainted as you would think.”

Angel pauses as if in deep thought. “It’s almost as if you didn’t sacrifice seven thousand souls to Mephistopheles.”

You don’t know what to say. The seven thousand hardly mattered to you now, and you aren’t sure they ever did. Probably not, you think, because you were here and not six-feet under. You would have died long ago had it not been for Astarion’s gift of eternal life, and you would have left him to walk this earth alone: just the thought makes you feel nauseous.

“Anyways, your sexual energy is amazing. The lust and love you feel for Astarion is absolutely delicious, so refined,” Angel’s face is, suddenly, suspiciously close to yours, and you wonder how he got so close. “I could taste your desperation for him when we kissed. I want to kiss you more, now.”

Angel's face moves even closer to yours, but you bring your fingers to his lips, stopping him. Angel grabs your wrist, pressing your hand to his lips more firmly, kissing your fingertips.

“Mmm,” Angel moans into you before you bring your hand away. His smile is back. “Your skin is so soft…but that doesn’t really count, you know. I want your lips to touch mine, you cute little daywalker!”

Angel’s lips are plump, so soft looking and pink. It would be easy to kiss him again: he’s a beautiful man. But Astarion’s earlier words echo in your mind: “Please don’t, Tav.”

You take a deep breath. Closing your eyes, blocking out all other thoughts, you tell Angel to do it.

“Finally! C’mere, girl.” Angel grabs you, your body already trembling as you’re in the hands of this large, foreign man. Angel’s wings surround you, and he grabs your chin, lifting your head to his. You feel manhandled, despite Angel’s gentle touch. He wasn’t forceful or aggressive, but firm: but it’s like your brain doesn’t know the difference.

“Open your eyes, beautiful. I wanna gaze into them, make you want me,” Angel is amused and aroused; his voice is laced with a lust filled huskiness, one he intends for you to know.

Your teeth chatter, your body deciding to freeze rather than run or fight. You’re sucking air into your undead lungs. “I don’t want to…just do it, alright?” Truthfully, you don’t think you can stop shaking even if you tried.

There is a long pause. Angel’s hold on you relaxes, but he makes no motion to let you go. “Why are you afraid?”

You don’t answer, because you don’t really know what to say, but you feel a level of relief once Angel’s put you back on your feet, freeing you from his wings and his grasp. His hand is still gently resting on your chin. For just a moment, you feel the brush of his warm, soft lips on your cheek.

“Until next time, girl~”

Angel’s world fades to black, and you slip back into your unconscious mind before waking with a jolt. You immediately notice your lack of pain, the burning sensation having subsided entirely. You feel strong, glorious, powerful; when Astarion jumps beside you, in motion at the first sign of your consciousness, and you wonder if he ever went to sleep at all.

You bring yourself to a straddle above him, a smile spread across your face. You see wisps of pink around Astarion; they dance around his face, his chest, becoming a deeper hue at the center of his chest. His eyes practically gleam, even making their crimson appear lighter. Love.

“Ha! Oh shit. I love you too, my sweet husband.”

tag list: @viowolf

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 15:

You can see it with the lights out: You are in love…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Note: I changed the racing calendar, I switched Miami with Imola

As I walked down the stairs the door opened and Mum and Dad, together with Sissy and Liam walked through the door, apparently coming straight from the airport, they looked at me confused. Sissy grabbed Liam by the hand and they disappeared in the living room, with Liam asking confused what’s going on. But Sissy just shushed him and they were gone.

"When did you arrive?" Mum asked.

"Where were you?" Dad asked.

"Yesterday. And where was I supposed to be?" I answered and Mum and Dad exchanged some glances.

"Where were you supposed to be? Maybe still in Australia like you said? Or maybe in the plane with us? Or no wai…" Dad begun but I shrugged my shoulders, walking past them into the kitchen "Lizzie?"

"I had to leave earlier…" I said and opened up the fridge.

"Oh? Is that it? You had to leave earlier?" Dad sounded mad.

"Yup." I wanted to squeeze past him but he didn’t let me through.

"What happened? Why did Charles look like he went through the worst night ever, telling us that you left with the first plane in the morning because you had to go to the factory, doing some simulator work?" Dad asked, knowing that he caught us lying.

"Umm I… I mixed up the dates, I’m supposed to be there tomorrow, but Pete already texted me that it’s not necessary before Friday…" I lied and Dad scoffed.

"You said you would stay with Charles in Australia for some days?" Mum asked and I shrugged my shoulders again.

"I know, but Debbie’s nursery school dance is this week and I promised her to come" I lied again and made a mental note to call Andrea right away when I got back to my room.

"Oh, that’s sweet." Mum said although she looked still a little unconvinced.

"Yep, it’s on Thursday. So yeah, I should better check in with Andrea what to wear!" and with that I grabbed my orange juice from the fridge and went back to my room. I could hear how they discussed whether or not I’m telling the truth, but Dad was convinced I was lying.

As I checked my phone I saw 13 more missed calls, 21 iMessages, 15 WhatsApp messages and 9 Instagram DMs from Charles. My stomach clenched and I unlocked my phone right as Pierre called, but I ignored it. He was probably still with Charles. But I needed space. What happened was clearly the alcohol taking over. And with the next race coming up being a new track where no real simulator data or whatsoever existed, I had to focus on Miami. Not on the mistake Charles and I made. Both drunk. Both not knowing what we were doing. End of the story. But whenever I closed my eyes I saw Charles face. Charles how he smiled at me on the podium. Charles how he hugged me after the race. Charles how he swallowed hard when I showed him my outfit for our celebration in some Melbourne club. Charles how he danced with me. Charles body grinding against mine. Charles intense gaze. Charles pulling me with him in a dark corner. Charles pushing me against the wall. Charles smile after our first kiss. Charles face when I pushed him off of me. Charles heartbroken face when I left him at the airport standing. Charles. Only Charles. Always in my mind. I let myself fall into my pillows, face first and screamed.

Charles POV:

"Charles? Hey? Charles, are you o…?" Pierre began but when he looked at my face he immediately fell silent.

"She’s really gone, Pierre. I begged her to stay… but she left anyway…" I whispered and walked past him. Sitting down on the bed.

"Give her some time… she’s scared, like you said…" Pierre sat down next to me.

"No. It feels different. It feels like I’m losing her…" I whispered and I felt a peng in my chest, my breathing ragged. Tears prickling my eyes. It was over. I lost her. There’s no coming back from this.

"Don’t say that! You and Lizzie belo-…" Pierre began as I interrupted him.

"There’s no Lizzie and I. Not anymore. I destroyed it." my voice sounded void just as how I felt "You can go back to your room now. It’s okay. I’m okay…" I got up and walked towards the bathroom "Thanks Pierre, for being here for me…" with that I disappeared and locked the door. After a couple of moments I heard the room door closing and I sat on the floor, pulled my knees up to my chest. I destroyed everything. Our friendship. Our families. Everything. I tried to call her again, I just needed to tell her that I’m sorry, but the call got straight to her voicemail. I leaned my head back into the called tiles and let the anxiety and pain of the last hours fully consume me.

I packed my suitcase, threw everything in that Lizzie forgot to pack and left the hotel room. Lied to her parents. Hugged them goodbye. Tried to call her again and again, texted her. Nothing. I flew back to Maranello earlier than planned, speaking to no one. Joris and Andrea exchanged worried glances but I ignored them.

I focused on Miami. Racing was the only thing I had left now.

"Charles? Can we talk?" Joris asked as he sat down on the sofa and I looked up from my notebook.

"Yeah? What’s up?" I said and closed the book, laying it down next to me.

"I wanted to ask you the same… what happened in Australia?" he looked worried.

"Have you talked to Pierre?" I asked and he looked at me confused.

"No? Why?"

"It’s nothing. I’m okay. Don’t worry!" I replied and took my book back from the sofa.

"But we are worried? You have said maybe 5 sentences in total in the last 3 days, you look horrible, what’s going on?" he asked.

"I’m fine, okay? I need to focus on racing. That’s it." I sighed and opened my notebook again, signalling that the conversation was over for me. He looked at me for a minute before he got up and left. I took my phone out, looked at her contact info, thumb hovering over the screen. Should I call her again? Maybe try it again? Maybe there was still some hope left? I swallowed hard. No.

My flat felt cold and empty as I walked past the pictures on the wall. Flashbacks of how Lizzie said that if I wanted to hang up some pictures I should make them all the same size, the same clean frame, photographs in black and white to keep it quiet and not busy on the eye. I stood in front of the picture Joris took of us, at the lookout, one of my favourite spots in Monaco. Lizzie’s as well. I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at the picture. But as my phone rang I was startled. I accepted the call, but my throat was tight and I almost couldn’t speak.

"Yeah?" I croaked out.

"Charles? Are you okay?" Lorenzo. I swallowed hard.

"Umm… yeah, fine." I said and walked into my living room, sitting down on the sofa.

"Can I come over? There are some things we need to decide for All Time." he asked and I leaned back.

"Sure." I closed my eyes "I’m here."

"Alright, I’ll be there in 20 minutes?" he said.

"Yup."

"Woah! Are you sure you’re okay?" Lorenzos first words when I opened the door.

"Wow… thanks, good to see you too." I mumbled and walked back into kitchen, grabbing some water and glasses.

"Sorry, but you look horrible? Are you getting sick?" he asked as he sat down on the sofa, looking intently at me.

"Don’t think so, no." I said and poured us our water "So, what needs to be done?"

He looked at me for another moment before he shook his head slightly and dived right into talking business. I didn’t listen, not really. My mind occupied by Lizzie. How beautiful she looked in her dress. Her pink cheeks when we were dancing. Her surprised look when I pulled her with me into this dark corner. That little sigh I took right off of her lips. Her lips. Soft and sweet. Her body melting into mine. Her smell. Always the same for years. Something tropical, like coconut, mango and pineapple, mixed with the smell of fresh laundry and a tinge of lime, that little spritz of excitement. I never felt this good in my entire life. Winning the championship wouldn’t even compare to it. My heart rate going through the wall because for one moment I thought I was on top of the world, having everything I ever wanted. But the look in her eyes as she pushed me off of her. That fear. It sent shivers done my spine. Because that was the moment I probably lost her forever.

"Charles? Hey?" Lorenzo snapped his fingers in front of my face and I blinked in confusion "Okay what’s going on? What happened in Australia? Don’t give me that look. Speak up!"

"Nothing happened!" I insisted, going for my glass of water but spilling it in the process "Fuck!" I jumped up to get a towel but I tripped, ending up knocking over the little trophy I got from Liam for my birthday last year. Best uncle in the world. How proud Liam was as he handed it to me, telling me it took him almost 2 days to make it, even tho Lizzie helped him a little, just to reveal later that Lizzie did the most work and it actually only took almost 2 days because the clay had to dry over night. I watched as the trophy tumbled down the little side table and ended up on the floor. Shattering into pieces. I choked.

"No. No. No. No." I whispered as I knelt down looking at the pieces "No. God. Please. No. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

I didn’t felt the tears that were streaming down my face or Lorenzo kneeling down next to me. I just looked at the broken pieces that resembled what I’ve done to Lizzie and our families and felt crestfallen.

"Come here…" Lorenzo whispered, pulling me into a hug and I let out a heartfelt sob. I let it all out. I cried the tears that I tried to hold in for dear life over the past few days. Sobbing and whimpering. Lorenzo only held me close, gently rubbing my back, telling me that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn’t going to be okay. I made sure of that.

I opened my eyes and looked around, I was curled up on the floor, head on a pillow, blanket covering me, Lorenzo sitting next to me, rubbing my back every now and then. He scrolled through his phone as I slowly sat up, he looked up from his screen. Silently he handed me a glass of water and I downed it in one big gulp. My throat was sore, my head pounding. He poured me another glass which I also gulped down in one go. I rubbed my eyes and groaned when I saw how late it was. I slept for almost 2 hours. I looked around frantically, the pieces of the trophy. Where were they.

"I put everything I could find in a bowl, on the table." Lorenzo said and I looked for said bowl.

"Thanks." I whispered, voice hoarse and I cleared my throat.

"Can we talk about what happened? And I’m not talking about the broken trophy. No, I mean in general? Why was Sissy asking me if you’re alright? She didn’t hear from you since Australia and Lizzie is acting strange as well? Joris said you were awfully quiet these past days in Maranello? Your sim work has seen better results? And now I come here and you look like you haven’t slept in days, your not focused and you break down over a broken trophy? I know Liam made it for you. I know it’s sad, but you cried for almost 30 minutes straight before you fell asleep on the floor… what happened in Australia between you and Lizzie?" Lorenzo looked at me insistently. I leaned back against the sofa, ruffling my hair before I took a deep breath.

"I messed up, Enzo. Big time. I don’t know if she will ever forgive me…" I whispered and he chuckled a little.

"I think you underestimate how much Lizzie loves you… so, what did you do?" he asked and I sighed and then I told him everything. The club, the kiss, the devastation, the showdown at the airport, the alone time back in our hotel room, the family the next morning, the hundreds of unanswered calls and texts. Everything.

"And what are you going to do now?" Lorenzo asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ask her for forgiveness? Ask her to forget what happened? Try to mo…" I began but he slapped the back of my head "Ouch! What the fuck?"

"Wrong answer! You’re not that stupid, come on! Try again!" his voice was firm.

"I don’t know, okay? What am I supposed to do? Maybe I misjudged everything and she never reciprocated my feelings and she’s…" I began again. SMACK. "Seriously if you slap me one more time I’m going to…"

"You’re going to what? Fight me? Good! At least then I know that there is still some fighter mentality left in you! Charles, she loves you! You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. She was scared! You know what it will mean if you guys officially start dating? The media will come for her! Not you! Her! Of course she’s freaking out a little! But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you! You are one of the smartest people I know, for gods sake, she’s one of the smartest people I know… and still you guys are so unbelievably stupid! And blind! Get your shit together! Fight for her!" Lorenzo said and I looked at him for a while, thinking about his words.

"But what if loving her isn’t enough? What if I can’t give her what she deserves? What she needs? What if I can’t protect her from all the shit that will happen?" I almost whispered and he grabbed my arm, making me look at him.

"Isn’t she worth the fight?" he held my gaze.

"She’s worth everything." I choked out.

"Did she ever gave up on you before?" Lorenzo asked and I swallowed hard.

"No. Never…" I whispered, blinking tears away.

"Then you shouldn’t give up on her now." he said and got up "You have a girl and a race to win this weekend."

He was right. I had to fight.

"So you’re telling me that you and Charles kissed. Finally, after what? 10 years of crushing hard on him? And your reaction was to flee the freaking country?" Shima’s look was almost comical, Andrea just shook her head.

"I know you since you’re 5 Lizzie and I remember how you told me the first time about Charles when you were like 7? 8? And even back then I thought that you had a huge crush on him! Why did you run away?" Andrea asked and handed Debbie another apple slice.

"Because if he’s not feeling the same, our friendship is over when he knows that I’m in love with him!" I say and they both groan.

"How can you be so, Debbie cover your ears sweetie, thanks. How can you be so fucking blind? Charles is as much in love with you as you’re with him! He always was in love with you! Since I know him! God even during his stupid relationship with the devils spawn he was so madly in love with you! Why do you think Camille hated you so much?" Shima whisper shouted and Andrea nodded in agreement.

"Are you telling me that you never felt the chemistry between you? The sparks flying like crazy? Do you really think it’s normal for best friends being this close? This touchy? Almost intimate? Haven’t you seen how Charles always looked at you?" Andrea said and I swallowed hard "God, sometimes I’m even jealous of you guys! Simon and I work out perfectly, we’re in sync and happily in love. But next to you guys? Your chemistry? Pffff. We’re not anywhere close to that level of intimacy!"

"Let’s say he feels the same? What if it’s not working out between us? What if we both feel after a month or two that we’re not working out together? Our friendship would be ruined!" I whispered and Andrea sighed.

"Lizzie, you and Charles basically were kinda dating since forever! You just didn’t realise it. You spent most of your free time with him, he was always the first one you called whenever something was happening in your life, he was always the first one you thought about in the morning, the last one you thought about at night, if you’re being honest with yourself! And for him it was most definitely the same!" Andrea said and I looked conflicted.

"I don’t know, okay? I can’t think about this right now! There are other things that come first! The race! Dads birthday! The media and practically half of Social Media still hating on me even after I finished 2 out of 3 races on the podium! As a rookie!" I said and Shima just shook her head, but said nothing. Why won’t they understand why I was scared?

Miami was different, to say the least. It was hot, humid. A lot was going on off track. I arrived on Tuesday with Dad, Sissy and Liam. I had to attend some events from sponsors, do another Audi Challenge with Valtteri and then of course the press conference on Thursday, where I was unfortunately in the same group as Charles. I had successfully managed to avoid him over the past 2 days, we only saw each other at breakfast where I pretended that everything was fine, so that no one got suspicious, but all streaks of luck must end and as I walked into the conference room he looked at me and gestured to the empty seat next to him. I pretended I hadn’t seen it and sat down between Lewis and Seb. In the corner of my eye I could see Charles looking defeated.

"Trouble in paradise?" Seb whispered and I looked at him confused. "Usually you two are like thick as thieves? And today you walk in, separately, not even looking at him and then sitting next to me instead of him?"

"It’s nothing, Seb, really! It’s just that the media is a bit annoying, constantly painting us as the new F1 It-couple. Questioning if he used his connections to get his 'girlfriend' into F1. I just want to race. So yeah we’ll lay low now for a bit." I answered but Seb didn’t look convinced but said nothing. Lewis next to me just chuckled.

"But you’re cute together and his Insta post? Come on! Let the media talk and be happy! Because let’s be honest? Neither of you looks happy right now…" he said and I looked at Charles who sat in his chair, slumped, staring at his hands with blank eyes. I swallowed down the lump in my throat, while checking discreetly Charles‘ Instagram. I recognised the picture immediately, the memories of it playing in the back of my mind. Never let you go. I had to blink away the tears and took a deep breath while putting my phone back in my pocket. Why can’t this press conference be over just now. I had to go. Be alone. Calm down. Think.

"Lizzie! Lizzie! DAMN IT, LIZZIE!" Charles yelled and I flinched "Would you please stop running away from me?"

I slowly turned around and the look on his face nearly broke my heart, pain, inflicted by me.

"Charles, please not here. Not now. I’m already late…" I began but he only shook his head.

"I tried to call you like a thousand times! Texts, What’sApp, I even wrote you in fucking Instagram! But you just ignored it all, so we will talk, now!" he said and his voice was more pleading then demanding.

"There is nothing to talk about, we were both drunk, it happened! It meant nothing. End of the story! And now I go…" I began but Charles just scoffed.

"It happened? Just like that? Ok, let’s blame the alcohol after the race in the club. Fine. But if it really meant nothing, why did you flee the country? In the middle of the night? So headless you forgot almost half of your stuff at the hotel? Including your fucking passport that I had to bring you? And instead of talking to me you boarded a plane, leaving me standing at the airport! With no explanation?" although he had every right to be mad, his words weren’t said in spite, he sounded genuinely hurt.

"You’re right, okay? It was a dick move! I was just… I was confused, scared, because I didn’t wanted it to be awkward between us, you know? I wanted it to be like nothing ever happened. You and I. Our friendship. Back to normal. Back to us." I answered and he only shook his head.

"Back to normal? What normal? To the normal of all the almost kisses over the last years? When one of us pulled away in the last second? Back to all those moments, basically our entire life, when we could feel that this connection between us is so much more than just a normal friendship, that it’s simply lo…" he began as Julie shouted my name from across the paddock.

"I have to go." I whispered and turned to leave as Charles grabbed my wrist.

"If you would only allow yourself to feel it too and not be scared for once…" he said, then he let go of my hand and walked away.

With a pounding heart I walked towards Julie, because we would do our second Audi Challenge, this time "Finish the Lyrics".

I sat with Valtteri in our hospitality, Julie explaining us the rules, Walt set up the camera. I wasn’t really listening but I knew I had to smile through the video and tried my best to not think about what Charles had said, I had to play my part and be the bubbly and energetic Lizzie that they knew, otherwise I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Ok, I’ll play a song and at a random part I will stop and the first of you who hit their buzzer has to finish the lyrics, if you’re correct you’ll get a point, if you’re wrong your opponent gets the point… understood?”Julie explained and I nodded, Valtteri gave a thumbs up. Julie started the first song.

Union's been on strike, he's down on his luck

It's tough, so tough

Gina works the diner all day

Working for her man, she brings home her pay for love. Mmm, for love

She says…

I hit the buzzer just a millisecond before Valtteri.

"We've gotta hold on to what we've got. It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We got each other, and that's a lot for love. We'll give it a shot" I looked at Julie and she nods.

"Correct, that’s one point for Lizzie! Just one sentence is enough, you don’t have to sing the half song!" Julie laughed and I looked at her shocked.

"It’s Bon Jovi! YOU HAVE TO SING THE ENTIRE SONG!" I exclaimed and Valtteri laughed and nodded agreeing.

"One sentence is enough! Next song…” Julie said and I sighed.

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself…

I was thinking hard for the the lyrics but before I could react, Valtteri already hit his buzzer.

"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell" he finished the lyrics and Julie clapped her hand.

"And that’s a point for Valtteri!" she said and I laughed.

"I was just thinking of if when you hit the buzzer!"

We played for 6 more rounds and in the end I won with 5:3.

"So guys, that’s it from us! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed it crushing the Finisher!" I said into the camera and Valtteri only laughed and bumped me with his shoulder. Walt stopped the recording and Julie was happy.

"Yup that was good! Thanks you two, you’re done for today!" she said as we both got up and walked out.

"See you tomorrow, Lizzie!" Valtteri said and I nodded and smiled as he walked away. I took out my phone, opened Uber and wanted to order a car, as someone pinched my side and I flinched and turned around to see who it was.

"Fuck! Seb! You can’t do that! I almost had a heart attack!" I said in German and he laughed.

"Sorry! You ok?" Seb asked and I laughed "All good between you and Charles? I saw you after the press conference…"

"It’s nothing, really. We’re having a different opinion on something but nothing serious!" I lied and Seb nodded slowly.

"You want my opinion? What you and Charles have, that’s unique, that’s something not many people find in their life’s… don’t throw it away because of a disagreement!" he said and I looked up at him "Anyways, how do you like Miami so far?"

"Hot? Humid? Too many people? Too many events?" I answered honestly and he nodded.

"So true! But the track itself looks like a lot of fun!" he replied "Come on, I’ll drive you to your hotel." I nodded thankfully and together we left.

"What’s wrong with you and Charles?" Dad asked as I prepared for qualifying "We’re here since Tuesday, you’re having separate rooms and use them both, I only saw him at breakfast! And I haven’t seen you two talk at all?"

"Dad, I think you forget that we’re not teammates anymore? I can’t hang out with him all the time?" I said and rolled my eyes.

"Yeah sure! Try that again. What’s wrong with you and Charles? Did you guys had have a fight?" he asked again and I just groaned.

Right on cue Pete appeared to talk something through with me and I looked at Dad apologetic.

"So, what’s wrong with our two lovebirds?" Sissy asked Dad, but he only shook his head.

"She said nothing, but we both know that’s a lie…" he answered and they watched me as I got in the car.

P9. What a shit result. I just couldn’t get a lap done. I climbed out of the car and Mick stood next to me.

"Tough track…" he said and I only shook my head.

"Not much grip and the downforce? Didn’t expect that." I answered and we walked together to our weighing. I could see Charles getting out of his car and how Carlos and Max congratulated him. I took my receipt from the weighing and followed Mick to Charles. I hugged Max first, nudged Carlos shoulder and then I stood in front of Charles. He looked at me with a smile but I knew it wasn’t a real one, his eyes stayed cold and I saw the hurt in them, but most importantly, he didn’t look me in the eyes, something behind me was his focal point.

"Congrats Charles." I said and hugged him, he only patted my back twice and then let go of me, it felt cold.

"Thanks Lizzie" he said and turned away to get his towel, I left with Mick.

"Are you guys okay?" he asked and I sighed.

"We had a little disagreement, but nothing serious." I replied and Mick nodded.

After the team briefing I gathered my belongings and left the paddock as fast as possible.

I walked straight into Pierre who looked annoyed.

"Lizzie." he said tight lipped, turning to walk away and I scoffed.

"What?" I asked and Pierre only shook his head "Oh come on! You shouldn’t pick a side here!"

"I’m not picking a side Lizzie, but would I do it, it would be his side for sure and you know why! I don’t care what happened before, but you left him at the airport, after he basically saved your ass! You have no idea how he was when he came back to the hotel. You left him! HIM! You did the one thing he’s the most afraid of, being left alone… and then you ignored him! Grow the fuck up, Lizzie and admit what we all already know!" he just said and then walked away.

"That’s unfair!" I almost yelled but he just shrugged his shoulders and kept walking.

I almost sprinted to my car and drove back to the hotel.

Back in my room I took a shower and sat down on the bed. We kissed, in the club, both drunk. But what did it mean? It felt good, it felt right. It felt like our bodies just belonged together. It felt like home. But what about our friendship? Could we risk losing it for what exactly? The thought alone, losing him, his family, even his friends, was scaring me enough to tell myself we shouldn’t be doing it. But if it’s so wrong, then why did it felt so right? I laid down, my head spinning. I had to think of Pierre’s words, he was right. I did the one thing Charles was most afraid of. I left him. After I promised him in the past again and again that I would never leave him. And then I left him standing at the airport. Him out of all people. How could I do that? What was wrong with me! I felt tears prickling in my eyes and closed them. Taking a deep breath. Do I love Charles? Yes. Am I in love with Charles? Yes. Do I want him as my boyfriend? Yes. Do I picture a future with him by my side? Yes. Do I want to grow old with him? Have children? A house? A dog? Basically everything just with him? YES. Am I afraid about the consequences if this is nothing more than just a stupid crush? Yes. Is it more than just a stupid crush? Yes. But would the media bash me for dating a fellow driver? Yes. Would they call me all kinds of names? A paddock bunny? Yes. Would they keep up the narrative of me being only here because of Charles? Yes. Would everything I ever fought for be diminished? Yes. Not for the first time in the last weeks I screamed into my pillow. After a while I had exhausted myself and fell asleep.

I woke up. Cold sweat on my face. Breathing shallow. Body all tensed up. Paralysed. It happened again. The first time in months. I tried to calm myself down. But the thoughts all returned and I felt the tears streaming down the sides of my face. Why must it happen before a race? On an unknown track? When my mind was already in shambles over the situation with Charles. How I hurt him and how he must hate me now? Why now? Panic began to rise.

"Lizzie? You’re still in bed? Get up! You overslept!" Dad woke me up, Liam jumping on my bed.

I stirred and sat up slowly, my muscles aching, head pounding. Whole body tense. I felt exhausted and like throwing up as Dad opened the curtains.

"Come on! You need to get ready!" Dad said and I scrambled out of bed. Then I hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Pops! Give me 15 minutes." I said and grabbed an Audi hoodie, some jeans and went straight for the bathroom. I took a deep breath and jumped under the shower, got out and gave my best to look at least decent. I felt like a tank rolled over me. Twice. But I couldn’t show it. Just smile and get it over with.

"Alright, let’s go!" I said, storming out of the bathroom, grabbing my phone, access pass and sunglasses.

"Where’s your Audi kit?" Dad asked and scoffed as he saw my jeans "And why do you young people need to wear jeans that cost a fortune but are destroyed? Make it make sense? It’s less fabric so it should cost less!"

"Dad! I’m not having a discussion about style whatsoever with you now! Not on your birthday where I have to be nice to you! And at the hospitality I will change into a proper team shirt! But for now, let’s go!" and we left my hotel room. As we stepped into the elevator it drove up two floors and as it opened Charles, Joris and Andrea stood in front of us.

"Charlie!" Liam screeched and bolted straight into his arms.

"Hey Bubba! Excited for today?" Charles asked him and Liam nodded and they got into the elevator.

"Happy Birthday, Pops!" Charles said and patted his shoulder and Dad just smiled. I hugged Joris and Andrea who then preceded to congratulate Dad as well. I pressed a smile at Charles, who gave me an awkward side hug and I was more than happy that he had Liam in his arms.

"I see, you’re Lizzie’s supporter number 1 today!" Charles laughed and pointed at my team merch Liam was wearing, cap, shirt and shoes.

"But look, I’m wearing your Ferrari bracelet!" Liam showed Charles the bracelet and Charles’ smile got bigger.

"How lucky we are, to have you as our supporter!" he laughed and the rest laughed with him, all but me. I focused on the floor, feeling dizzy and slightly overwhelmed.

"Alright, let’s cut to the point… what is going on here?" Dad asked bluntly and looked between me and Charles. I sighed and Charles just shook his head.

"What do you mean?" he asked and Andrea just groaned while Joris sighed.

"You two? Since Australia you don’t speak, no Lizzie don’t look at me like that, when you’re on the phone together literally half Ludwigsburg can hear you… since we arrived we only saw you at breakfast… so? What’s going on here?" Dad said and I only shook my head.

"We had a little disagreement. We both are stubborn. End of the story." I said and as the elevator door opened I was the first one to exit, almost sprinting away.

"Little disagreement my ass!" I could hear Dad saying but I stormed through the door.

"You’re late!" JK greeted me as I stepped out the hotel, I looked up at him and he hugged me "Where’s the rest?"

"They’re coming, where’s the car?" I asked as a bright green Audi RS8 parked in front of us "I hate him! I said I don‘t want that car! Everyone will stare at us!" Felix thought it was hilarious to always send me a car in the brightest colours, just to annoy me.

"Ooouuhhh! Nice ride!" Joris said behind me and I groaned.

"You wanna drive it?" I joked and shook my head. "Come on, JK. We gotta go. Dad, your car is coming in… oh there it is."

"I wanna go with Charlie!" Liam whined as Charles sat him down.

"That’s not possible, Liam! Charles will only have space for one person!" Sissy explained as Liam pouted.

"That’s unfair! We haven’t seen Charlie for so long!" he mumbled and my heart broke. Charles took the key from the attendant and threw it to Andrea.

"You guys take the F40, I’ll drive with Liam and Co." he said and Liams eyes began to sparkle "Come on, Bubba!" he took his hand and he got into the van, followed by Sissy and Dad.

"Damn, I understand why everyone always says he’s made out of boyfriend material… he’s the jackpot when it comes to boyfriends… just saying." JK chuckled and got into the car. I watched how the van drove off and Liam waved, I waved back, locking eyes with Charles for a moment, he only smiled sadly and then focused on something Liam said.

"I hate Miami!" I grumbled and got into the car. Headache getting worse by the second, the tension in my body growing. f1 has posted a new story

During the whole drivers parade, the build-up, starting procedure, everything I could feel Charles eyes on me and as I made my way to the back where my car was he walked up to me.

"Lizzie! Lizzie! Listen! What happened happened and we need to talk about it, please stay, I just… Fuck Lizzie! We said we never race when we’re mad at each other! So come on! Please!" he pleaded and walked next to me. I slowly turned and looked at him, his pleading eyes making my knees go wobbly. I nodded slowly.

"Drive safe. Drive fast. Drive to win!" we both said, our mantra for years, we usually said it somewhere more private, but still. We said it before every race in the past.

"Thank you!" he whispered as he pulled me into a tight hug "I’m sorry, ma belle!" he looked at me for a second but my throat felt tight. He just nodded, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, then he walked back to the front of the grid, to his car, waiting on pole for him.

"I’m sorry, too…" I whispered and turned around, preparing myself.

"Radio check." Pete said but I didn’t listen, I thought about what Charles said, what happened happened and we needed to talk about it. Do we? And why do I feel so hot out of the blue?

"Lizzie? Radio check?" Pete again, no reaction from me, but what if we talk about it but both want a different solution or outcome? What outcome do I want? Starting to date Charles would be the end of my career. No one would take me serious anymore? I would be a paddock bunny. I would confirm all their theories, that I only got into F1 because I slept with someone important. But shouldn’t that be someone from F1 then? And why does my headache got even worse although I took a painkiller.

"Lizzie!" Matt waved his hands in front of my visor and I looked up "Something wrong with the radio?" I blinked, feeling sweaty and dizzy.

"I don’t know." I pressed the radio button "Radio check."

"Loud and clear. Thanks." Pete answered.

"Copy." I took a deep breath, feeling slightly nauseous. Focus, Lizzie! Damn it! Come on!

Formation Lap. Okay. It’s manageable.

One last deep breath. Light’s out. I accelerated, overtaking Norris and Russell right at the start, who touched wheels, creating a gap for me. I felt a little bump as I excited turn 3 and pushed the throttle as much as possible.

"Damage?" I asked.

"Negative. P7. Good start."

The next 3 laps I battled almost in every corner with Seb, I felt the exhaustion seeping through my bones, making it harder to pass him. Then he finally left enough space for me to slip through, but in the next corner he almost caught me again but I hit the apex perfectly and could manage to put a bigger gap between us.

"Hamilton in front. 1.4 seconds ahead."

"Who’s faster?"

"Currently you, but only slightly."

5 more laps and I closed the gap to Hamilton, but at this point I straight up felt like I would faint any moment. I tried my best to focus and somehow managed to pass Hamilton. But the tension in my muscles made it harder and harder to grip the steering wheel and to held my head up through the g-forces.

"Perez ahead. You have DRS. Go."

Pete. Somethings wrong. I said, but nothing happened. Pete! I think I have to stop. No words were leaving my mouth.

Perez didn’t leave much space and as I wanted to brake and leave him the space he wasn’t leaving me, I was unfocused for a second. Right at the entrance of the corner our front tires touched and I spun out. I didn’t even tried to brake or save the car by counter steering. I just closed my eyes and waited for the impact. Right at this moment I felt remorse, not having talked with Charles about us. Now it was too late anyways.

I stirred around, opening my eyes.

"Charles? What are you doing here? Dad’s outside…" I began but Charles only shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, still in his racing suit.

"I can’t do this anymore, Lizzie. I’m tired of it… tired of pretending that we’re just friends when I’ve loved you all my life!" his voice falters for a moment "God, I’m so in love with you, Lizzie! It’s like from the moment I’ve met you, you nestled yourself inside of my brain, attached yourself to my heart, my soul… and I can never ever let go of you and I don’t want to! Because my whole being, my thoughts, my everything, is consumed by you!" he scoots closer, cradling my face between his hands, his voice sounds almost broken as he continued "And I can’t sleep, I can’t breath, I can’t eat… I can’t function properly anymore because all I can think about is you! Lizzie, I love you!" he’s so close now that I can feel his hot breath on the tip of my nose, I could see the tiny freckles on his nose, the little speckles of gold in his eyes "And after today, after I almost lost you. Again. Please! Mon amour, please say yes…"

"Say yes to what?" I whispered and he came even closer, our lips almost touching.

"To me. To us." he whispered back, his gaze wandered down to my lips "To our life together. Say yes and I’ll be yours, even though I always was." I felt my insides flutter, the butterflies going crazy, the heat rising to my cheeks.

"But what if…" I began but he pressed his lips onto mine and I melted. Every resolve I had crumbled. The kiss was tender, sweet, promising. I felt like a weight lifted off of my shoulders. My whole body was tingling, heating up. My heart was beating out of my chest. It felt like this was where I belonged. Where Charles belonged. This was home. After what felt like an eternity I opened my eyes again, Charles still as close as before, smiling his most beautiful smile, dimples dimpling.

"I love you, cara mia!" he said it with so much love and conviction that I blushed even harder.

I took a deep breath. All my emotions boiling over, but it was now or never.

"I love you too, Charles, like really… but I’m so scared!" I said with a shaky voice and closed my eyes. He only pressed his forehead against mine and paused for a minute.

"Don’t be, nothing will change!" he answered and I just nodded slowly "What’s going on inside of your pretty head?”

"Can we keep this, for now, between us?" I asked quietly and looked down at my hands in my lap.

"Hey, look at me, Lizzie." he whispered and gently grabbed my chin, lifting my face up to look at him "We do this the way you want it to! It’s just you and me! Well and Pops…" he says softly and I looked at him confused.

"Dad?" I asked nervously.

"How do you think I got in here? As soon as the podium ceremony was done, I left and got here. He spoke with the nurse and then he told me to finally make my move…" Charles said and I laughed.

"A move you made." I smiled as he leaned in and kissed me again, then he hugged me and inhaled deeply.

"This is what I always wanted… just you and me…" he whispered.

"Against the world." I continued and Charles chuckled and sat up, then he took my hands in his.

"Forever and always!" he said and I smiled.

The door opened quietly and Dad looked inside.

"The Doctors want to see you, Lizzie." he said and I nodded, Charles stood up but I grabbed his hand.

"I’m not leaving. I’m just making space." he chuckled and sat down in the chair next to my bed as the doctors walked in.

"How are you, Lizzie?" the brunette one said.

"I’m okay, just a bit tired." I answered honestly.

"Any pain?" he asked.

"A little headache and my body in general feels a bit tense." I answered and he nodded.

"You have a slight whiplash, nothing to bad. And your body will feel tense for a couple of days and then it should be fine, as well as the whiplash. No work-outs, lots of water and rest and you should be good to go in a couple of days." he said and I looked at him with wide eyes "Oh! No you can leave tomorrow I meant in a week you’re good to go back to racing."

"Thanks, Doc." I said relieved and he nods.

"I’ll prescribe you some pain killers and something that helps you sleeping. Pain killers whenever the pain get’s too much but three are the maximum a day. Sleeping pill around 30 min before you go to bed, if needed." he explained and I nodded "I’ll leave you to rest. Mr. Leclerc, visiting hours ended 30 minutes ago. Only family members are allowed to stay."

"I’m not leaving her side." Charles said immediately and Dad chuckled.

"It’s alright Doc, he stays and I’m leaving." he said and the doctors nodded.

"Alright. If you need anything, push the call button." a nurse replied and with that they left.

"Andrea will be here any minute, bringing you new clothes. Get some rest. Both of you!" Dad said and kissed my forehead and squeezed Charles shoulder as it knocked on the door and Andrea walked in with Charles’ backpack.

"Oh Lizzie! My pretty girl, how are you?" he asked in Italian and handed Charles his backpack.

"I’m okay, thanks Andrea!" I answered in Italian as well and Andrea kissed both my cheeks, then he hugged Charles and whispered something to him, Charles only nodded.

"Rest up. Both of you!" he said and with that he left the room together with Dad.

"You can take a shower in there, if you want." I said and nodded my head in the direction of the attached bathroom, Charles looked hesitant for a moment "I’ll still be here when you come back!” I reassured him and he nodded and left with the backpack.

I scrolled through my phone as I came upon a post from Sky about the post race press conference, which Charles wasn’t attending, he left almost straight after the podium procedure. Apparently the FIA was considering to fine him. Why didn’t he just wait for after the press conference before he came in here? I didn’t want him in any kind of trouble because of me. Reading the comments was, as always, not a good idea. Where most people agreed that it was sweet from Charles to immediately leave and check on me, some people called him a love sick puppy and he should be fined for leaving. Others asking how I made it even into F1, spinning out like that. If I would be honest, the people would think differently. But I won’t tell anyone besides JK and Dr. Lindner what happened today. And how we can prevent it from happening again.

"About what are you thinking that hard?" Charles soft voice made me flinch. He stood in the doorframe, wearing grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"The FIA thinks about fining you… you should’ve stayed for the press conference, Charles! I don’t want you to have any trouble because of me!" I said quietly but he only shook his head, switched the light in the bathroom off and walked over to me.

"If it was for me, I would’ve left straight after I got out of my car. I wasn’t even celebrating. I just wanted to see you. That was my priority!" he whispered and took my hand in his and kissed it. He then pulled the armchair close to the bed and I looked at him curiously.

"And what are you doing?" I asked and he looked up.

"I’m making myself a little comfortable." he answered and grabbed the stool but I chuckled.

"Oh no, you’re not sleeping in an armchair and a stool! You have two options! You’re sleeping on that sofa, or you’re sleeping with me in the bed, there’s enough space. So, what will it be Leclerc?" I said and Charles looked over at the sofa that was at the other side of the room, then he looked at the bed and I scooted over to make him space.

"Okay, but you’re telling me when it gets uncomfortable!" he said and climbed in next to me. Then he laid on his side and I leaned into him a little, his arm under my head, legs intertwined. "I could get used to this!" he kissed my temple and I giggled.

"It’s not the first time that we’re sharing a bed!" I said and Charles nodded.

"But it’s the first time after we both… umm… confessed our feelings!" he answered and I yawned a little "And now sleep! You need rest!" He kissed my temple again and switched the light off.

"Yeah I need to be fit for DisneyWorld. We’re meeting Mum, Marcus, Lisa and Benji there tomorrow. For dads birthday, but also for the kids… you want to come with us? I know it’s a bit last minute but…" I began but Charles laughed only.

"Liam invited me already, I’m coming with you!" he said and I smiled.

"He did? Sneaky little lad!" I laughed "Oh and before I forget it, Daniel and Isaac are also tagging along."

"Daniel and Isaac? As in Daniel Ricciardo and his nephew Isaac?" he asked and I nodded "How did that happen?"

"They bumped into Sissy and Liam on Friday, started talking and Liam invited them earlier today as well… and Daniel was more than happy to agree…" I chuckled.

"What am I missing?" he asked.

"Oh… you’ll see…" I yawned and cuddled closer into him.

————————————————————————

Little Note:

Aaaand chapter 15 is out - Lizzie and Charles made it! THEY FINALLY MADE IT… from now on it will be fluffier than fluffy, right?! 👀👀👀

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3 @maeve-wileyy @18754389

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Thirty One}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

"Y/n....Y/n....Wake up, my child."

Whoever was speaking, sounded as if there were multiple people speaking at once. However, instead of it being overwhelming or annoying, it was soft and soothing. I slowly open my eyes, only to wince at the brightness around me.

I open them fully after they adjusted for a moment, and all I saw was nothing but white. An endless white void. 

"Where...am I?" I ask, barely above a whisper. 

"Purgatory, my child." 

I whip around to see who talking, but there was no one there. Anywhere I looked, was nothing but the void. What was this place? Why am I...here...Oh. That's right...

I died.

I guess, this is where you end up when you die again. Purgatory, was it? 

"Who's there?" I call out. And just like that, it appeared.

"We meet again, Y/n." 

God. Before me, looking down with a kind smile, was God. 

Suddenly, I felt so small. God's eyes, multiple eyes, looked into my own as God spoke. 

"I assume you have questions for me?"

I furrow my brows slightly. "I do." God hums. "I have answers." It tells me. I'd hope so. Finally, after all this time spent wondering. I would finally have my answer. 

"Why did you cast me out? What had I done to deserve that?" I asked. "I thought I was good, that I had earned my place in heaven. I...I have memories of heaven, it's faint, but I remember being there. So why?"

God's smile weakened. "I will tell you. Though, I am uncertain you will like or accept the answer." 

"Please. Just tell me..." I beg.

God paused for a moment before answering. "You killed a human."

"I...What?" I mumble. "I killed a human? You mean...while I was alive? There's no way! I never did that!" God shook it's head. "You killed a human, after you were welcomed into heaven." God began to explain. 

"You see, every human has a guardian angel. Those angels are granted access to Earth, to watch over and guide the humans to the path of good. Not every angel is successful, however. They will try their hardest to guide their humans, but it can not be helped when the human chooses to do evil deeds. What makes this particularly difficult for some of our angels, is that no guardian angel is to touch or speak to their chosen human directly." God continues. 

"Guardian angels can protect them from a distance, saving them from small or even life threatening accidents. But they can only do what is within their own power. If a human is to die, and an angel can not save them, try as they might, then it is simply their time. And judgement will await them." God smiles upon me. 

"I had chosen you to be one of those angels, Y/n." It's smile disappeared with what it said next. "But you had broken the most important rule, you made direct contact with your human...and killed him."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was a guardian angel at one point? And I killed someone when I was suppose to be protecting them?

"But...But why would I do that?" I ask desperately. "I feel it would be best, if I showed you." God said, lowering it's hand down to me. It placed the tip of it's finger gently on my head, after a few seconds a small light grew from the spot it touched me.

And just like that...it all came back to me.

It pained me to see it happening to someone else. The hatred, the unhealthy love, and the abuse acted on one's partner. Though, that love was not right, it never was. 

This...was not love.

The rough palm against a bruised face, pained cries, the yelling back and forth, and the false remorse...

It all felt so fresh in my mind. And to see it happening over and over, no matter how hard I tried to prevent it...to make this man see the results of his disgusting actions...it would never stop.

It never will. He never will stop. The cycle won't ever end. 

And it all felt so terribly familiar. He never stopped. The pain never stopped. 

So I'll make it stop...

There was a point where all I could see was red, and Liam's face...and for a while, it felt as if he were really there...

Finally, finally at my mercy for once.

It all went away as I heard her screams. The horror on her face at the sight of her husband's corpse impaled by my spear, and his blood on my face. 

But I felt nothing. No remorse, no regret, no disgust for my actions. No satisfaction. Just emptiness.

And God knew it too, how I felt. How I did not regret what I had done. And then in a flash, everything I knew, was gone.

When the void returned, I was left in shock. Unable to speak, or even form a single thought. I was just...speechless. God broke my trance after a while. 

"Do you see now, why I had to do what I did?" It asks. I blinked before nodding my head. "I do..."

"Y/n." God began. "Now that you remember, do you still feel no remorse for what you've done? If you do, I will grant you entrance into Heaven once more. Your time in Hell, it was slowly corrupting you, I see that now." God says while looking at my wings, that were now missing more than a few feathers.

I took the time to think about it. If given the chance, to be placed back in that same situation, would I have done it again? 

"God, I don't know if you keep up with the ones who are sent to Hell. So, I can't say if you know what I've been up to while I was down there but...I can't leave behind the life I made. I wasn't there long, but in that time, I've made friends I care about very much. I even found love down there, real love, believe it or not. And...It'd kill me to leave him behind. I would never be truly happy without him or my friends. Do you understand what I'm getting at?" I smile, not faltering with my words.

I meant all of it. I would not leave it all behind for an eternity without a single one of them. Especially Alastor...

God looked at me silently before letting out a short hum. "I do."  God snapped it's fingers, and just like that I was plunged into darkness. 

"I wish you luck, Y/n..."

I inhaled deeply and exhaled a few times, while the world around me started to form normally once more. My breathing started to stabilize as my vision adjusted. I was on the floor by a set of stairs. I turn onto my side with a groan before sitting up. To my surprise, my back felt lighter than before. I turn my head as far as I could to look behind me.

My wings were gone...

I guess I wasn't entirely surprised by that. I just refused to return to Heaven after all. So I didn't need angel wings anymore.

 I turn my attention to across the room, eyes widening at what I saw.

Alastor, his body still as it laid on the ground. I never moved faster in my life, I picked myself up and ran to his side. "Alastor! Alastor, wake up!" I shake him slightly. "Alastor!" I cried when he did not respond. The only relief I felt was from the faint breath he still drew. I wasted no time, picking him up and bringing him up the stairs. 

It rough, as I was not use to carrying another person, but I made it to our bedroom eventually. I laid him down and stripped away his coat and shirt. The wounds he once bared were slowly beginning to heal, another sigh of relief left me. 

I ran to the bathroom and wet some rags before hurrying back and applying pressure to the worst of the open wounds. It was only then, did I notice something that should have stuck out like a sore thumb at first.

My hands...I move my right close to my face to examine it. It wasn't just my hands, but arms, my legs, my entire body, was a scarlet red. There were claws at the tips of my fingers. I would have like to know what I looked like in full, but there were more important things at hand right now. 

I stay by Alastor's side for the next few hours, waiting for him to wake up. And I would not leave him until I know he's alright.

Tags-

@krak-jj

@martinys-world

@cherry-cola-100

@wonderlandangelsposts

[txemrn]

Thanks for the tag, @sfb123! I am super, duper excited about your upcoming TRR fic! 🖤

I'm sure all writers can identify with this: I'm tinkering with several different WIPs right now, but the following is what I am planning on releasing this week. *fingers crossed*

*If you are a P2G reader, this teaser reveals a side plot that I am super excited to get under way. I hope you enjoy!

Ricochet, Chapter 5: We Know Each Other From a Different Life (Ethan x f!OC [Tatum Erikson]; Open Heart)

Her deep, navy eyes playfully squint, piercing daggers into someone hidden by another group of people. She combs her fingers through her careless locks, letting them tousle over her shoulders as she tosses her head back in laughter. She grabs chalk for her cue, prowling around the table as she calculates her next move.

Ethan nips at his bottom lip as she bends over the table, positioning the long stick between her fingers. A soft groan escapes his chest as she pistons the cue slowly in her hand. His eyes darken, his attention shifting to her cleavage now spilling out over her top. Leaning far over to reach the oddly-placed cue ball, her breasts bounce onto the table, her jeans gapping to reveal a whisper of black lace. Ethan can feel his own pants begin to tighten as the soft skin of her lower back is exposed, the edges of her inked filigree teasing him.

But then, fury ignites, grating against Ethan's nerves as his pulse erupts into visions of red.

~🖤~

Pour Two Glasses, Chapter 6: "...Everything's Turned Upside-Down..." (Liam Rys x MC [Riley Brooks-Rys]; TRR/TRH)

Now with Olivia seeking a favor, Amalas is tickled. As far as good deeds, alliances and negotiations, she had just made it abundantly clear that she has the upper-hand. And Olivia just realized she fucked up.

Satisfied with her visitor’s reaction, Amalas turns on her heel and walks back to her desk. "You can see yourself out."

The red head sneers into a sarcastic snicker, stepping forward. "Oh c'mon, Amalas–"

"If you didn't need me then," Amalas spins around, irritated. "You don't need me now, Nevrakis." She takes a seat before shuffling through some folders and papers. "Oh,” she looks up, void of emotion, “please shut the door when you leave. Thanks."

Olivia storms forward. "Amalas, this isn't about me–about us. This is for Cordonia and finding who was responsible for Liam's death–"

~🖤~

I need some teasers, y'all! Show me whatcha got! @socalwriterbee @charlotteg234 @ao719 @tessa-liam @queenrileyrose @cariantha @peonierose @twinkleallnight @coffeeheartaddict2 @bascmve01 (I'm pushing you! lol)

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets Chapter 56: New Friends

TWs in the tags

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When your vision clears, you’re not in the woods anymore. That’s all you can figure out before you collapse, dizzy and nauseas and with your head hurting so bad you can barely think.

You feel hands on you and hear concerned voices. You’re weightless for a moment, and then you’re lying on something soft. You cover your ears and squeeze your eyes shut.

The voices retreat, and you try to focus on your breathing.

~~

“Shit, did she do something? What’s wrong with them?” Diya whispers.

“They seemed okay before the teleportation. It’s probably just a bad reaction. It happens, especially if you’re not in the best condition beforehand. There’s not much we can do for now, we’ll just have to keep them as comfortable as possible until they start feeling better. It shouldn’t last longer than a few hours.” Barron pauses. “Let’s get you bandaged up, Karen.”

Diya grimaces as Barron leaves the room to get the first aid kit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that would happen. I thought they’d be happy to be rescued.”

Karen stares at Diya intensely. Ey still isn’t used to that. “It was a fair assumption.”

Barron comes back and starts bandaging Karen’s face. “I think they broke your nose…” it mutters.

Diya wanders back over to Liam, who is breathing hard. That collar cannot be helping.

Ey gently removes the collar. Liam whimpers and their breathing gets faster.

Diya backs away, assuming that touching them is what caused the panic. “What should we do with this?” Ey waves the collar in the air.

“We’ll let Liam decide.” Barron says. “Can you go get some ice packs?”

~~

Puppy pounds her fists against the bubble and screams. She’d be saying something - she’s not sure what, but something - if she was given permission, but she doesn’t have permission, so she just screams.

“Calm down, Puppy.”

At Master’s order, Puppy goes still. She’s a good girl, a good Puppy. She can push the anger down.

Master continues poking at the bubble before pulling some tools out of her void. She stabs it and hammers it and even fucking shoots it, but the bubble is unyielding.

Master teleports out of the bubble and starts poking the outside of it. “I’m disappointed. In both of you. You should’ve grabbed Bunny. Or attacked the magic user. Or the one grabbing Bunny. Anything but what you did. I’ll have to punish you.”

Kitty tenses, but doesn’t say anything. Puppy is calm. Master told her to calm down, so she’s calm.

Master stabs the bubble again. “Both of you, collars off.”

Puppy removes her collar. There’s blood on her hands.

She’d thought Master would like for her to hurt them, but Master didn’t even want her to hurt the stranger. Master would’ve preferred for her to grab Bunny. She hurt them, and Master didn’t order to her to. She didn’t hurt them because she had to. She hurt them because she wanted to.

Puppy knows she’s not a good person. It’s one of the many things Master took from her. Normally, though, she can convince herself it’s not her fault. Not this time.

Puppy feels cold tears running down her face and onto her neck. She’s calm. She’s a good Puppy. There’s blood on her hands.

~~

When the pain and dizziness have receded enough that you can think again, you start to take in your surroundings.

You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a wood cabin. You can’t see any windows from where you’re lying, and the room is fairly dark. Diya is sitting in a chair next to the couch, but it looks like ey’s asleep.

You slowly push yourself to a sitting position. Pain explodes through your head again. You must’ve made a noise, because Diya opens eir eyes and yawns.

“How are you feeling? Sorry about… all of that. It looks like you had a bad reaction to the teleporting.”

“You can teleport living things?”

“Barron can. Do you want me to go get Barron and Karen? I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to all of us or if it’d be easier with just me, but if you have questions it’d probably be easier with all of us.”

“…I have a lot of questions.”

“Right. I’ll go get them.”

Diya hurries out of the room and comes back with two others. The magic user and the one Puppy beat up. Barron and Karen.

“So you’re Diya, Barron, and Karen, right?”

“Greg.” Says the beat up one. “You can call me Greg.”

The others look surprised. “It was due for a change.” They clarify.

“…Alright. Diya, Barron, and Greg. What pronouns should I use for you?”

Barron answers. “I use it/its pronouns. Diya uses ey/em. Kar- Greg uses they/them. And you?”

You’re not sure how you feel about Barron speaking for all of them, but the others don’t seem to have a problem with it. “I use he/him. Now that that’s out of the way. Where are we?”

“This is our base of operations.” Barron says.

Diya jumps in. “Our home. Where we live. We don’t have any more bedrooms, but we can get you a mattress and stuff. Or you can sleep on the couch.”

You nod. Ouch. “And we… teleported here?”

Barron frowns. “Yes. Sorry we didn’t warn you beforehand, it can cause reactions like the one you had.”

You swallow. “And you said that you can make sure Jane won’t find us?”

“Is that the monster? The little girl? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, no one can find us here unless I want them to.”

“She has this… void thing. She can watch us while she’s in it. Will she be able to see this place through that?”

Barron furrows its brow. “I’ve never heard of something like that. But the magic around the cabin prevents people from using magic to see into it or magically locate it. So she shouldn’t be able to see you as long as you’re here.”

You’re safe. She can’t find you here. Tears spring to your eyes. “Thank you. I… are we going back for the others? I know they didn’t want to come, but they just don’t think safety is possible.”

“We can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. We can wait a while and try again, if you want. Maybe they’ll believe it after a while of you not getting brought back.”

That will have to be good enough. You can’t ask them to risk their safety again so soon when Kitty and Puppy don’t even want to leave. “Alright. Thank you. What can I do to repay you?”

Greg, who has been quiet for a while, abruptly leaves. Barron sighs. “You don’t have to repay us. We’d like you to help us keep the cabin tidy, and it would be very helpful if you could tell us everything you know about Jane so we can figure out what she is. But that’s not required. We’re not going to kick you out if you don’t help us.”

“I want to help.” You try to stand up, and your head seems to explode again. You fall to the ground. “Maybe… tomorrow, though.”

Barron and Diya help you back onto the couch.

“Of course.” Barron says. “The side effects of the teleportation should be gone by then.”

You should probably tell it about your head, and how that will still be an issue no matter how long ago you teleported. But suddenly, you’re painfully aware of the lack of pressure around your neck.

“What happened to my collar?”

Diya looks concerned. “I took it off because it looked like you were struggling to breathe. Do you… want it back?”

“Yes.”

Diya fishes the collar out of eir pocket. You grab it and quickly clasp it around your neck.

You’re safe. You know you’re safe, and yet you only feel like you can truly relax with the collar back on.

You’ll get to the point where you feel safe with the collar off. But not tonight. Tonight, the conditioning Jane did wins out.

“That’s… that’s way too tight, Liam.”

Diya keeps talking, but you can’t hear. You feel like a shockwave has gone through you. You feel a whip on your back and you can’t breathe and your head hurts and when did it get so hot in here?

“What’s wrong?!”

Aw, what’s wrong, Bunny? Does that hurt?

“I don’t remember, I don’t remember, please, I don’t remember it.” Your collar is on, you’re not being punished, so why does it all hurt so bad? You can’t breathe!

I don’t believe you. Hold still.

Someone grabs your collar and you scream, shoving them away. Jane isn’t here, you know that, but if she’s taking off the collar that means you’re going to get punished and you can’t, you can’t!

Don’t fight me.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please! I’ll be good, a good Bunny, please?”

It’s adorable that you still think begging will help you.

“Liam, you’re not there. You’re safe.”

What’s your name? What letter does it start with?

“I don’t remember! I don’t remember it!” She’s going to hurt you, she’s going to break your bones and cut you open! You can’t, you can’t.

Good! Good boy, Liam.

“Liam, can you tell me five things you can see?”

You’re not the brightest, are you? Stupid Bunny.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

Oh, I think that was a seizure.

“Can you hear me?”

Sweet little Bunny. Do you feel powerful?

You nod slightly. Wait, what? Your head hurts, everything hurts.

You just want me to stop hurting you.

“What can we do to make you feel better?”

You shake like a little bunny.

You can’t stop shaking. She’s going to hurt you.

What have you done to deserve food, Bunny?

“How about I just make suggestions, and then you just nod or shake your head for me. Does that sound okay?”

Be good for me, alright?

You nod.

We still have work to do, Liam.

“Would it help to get you a weighted blanket? That always helps me when I’m panicking.”

You can crawl if that’s easier.

You nod. You’re willing to try anything, you’re so confused and scared.

I’ll hurt Puppy and Kitty if you disobey.

You feel something heavy drape around your shoulders. At first it scares you, but it’s gentle, and it reminds you more of hugs from Puppy than of being pinned down.

“There. It seemed to help you before to be left alone, so I’m going to set some water and food down here and then go. Call for me if you need me, okay?”

Follow me.

You nod.

“It’ll be okay.”

Who wants to go first?

You curl deeper into the blanket. You’re safe, you’re safe.

You wish Puppy and Kitty were here.

Through the shaking and crying, you somehow manage to fall asleep.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[fromaliminalspace]

🌀! 👀

[for the ask game for teasing wips/upcoming projects]

thank you so much for asking, Silvy!! gonna go with two (2) wip summaries, for cql and st both, now that the former would obviously of more interest for you and the latter has been on my mind more often lately

Watch Me Corrode (like a Beast in Repose). where Xue Yang gets a biting taste of Fuxue and thinks it to be one of his last memories except he does get whisked away by Su She into what may not necessarily be safety. and then immediately faces the consequences of having worked so hard all his life to make himself indispensable. because turns out that his life is deemed too valuable for Jin Guangyao to let it wither away before his eyes, so why not turn such a skilled demonic cultivator into a fierce corpse that can still be of service, especially in the face of not quite improving circumstances? and if this promising fierce corpse’s got something to say against the glorious perspectives looming on the horizon, then what of it, it’s not like there’s anything left for him back in Yi City. except for only one thing — his own death. which with every following passing day increasingly seems like it would’ve been a more merciful fate, if only it had taken him back when there was still a tiniest smidge of hope to preserve his soul and eventually, doesn’t matter how many lifetimes it’d take, reunite with another one, differently yet equally doomed.

and now that i had to reread what i had already written in order to choose the wip for this and had to suffer all the angst, now you’ll have to suffer as well

He felt like he should fight it, like it was a promise of something bad that was bound to happen to him if he just let the things run their course and do nothing, but he was just so damn tired. He should be able to bring himself to bother, but apparently it required the energy he just didn't have, even despite the ongoing inflow of it, now accompanied by a distantly familiar voice demanding something of him with increasingly urgent alarm to its tone. With an abrupt vigorless spike of somewhat condescending mirth at all the unnecessary fuss he brushed the disturbances out of the range of his attention, leaving himself in between the still swelling pain — imbuing every corner of him with itself, its gracefulness not unlike that inherent to loyal swirls of resentful energy — and the caressing tingling stream, tinged with a soft golden glow. Both felt grounding in their own way, and Xue Yang found himself basking in the midst of the conflicting sensations, sometimes leaning towards one of them, sometimes balancing them out. It was nice, sort of. Certainly nicer than being fully conscious, and death was out of reach for him either way. Or, perhaps, he was out of its reach.

One Mordor at a Time. Eddie’s dead and the rest have to deal not only with this fact but also with his questionable legacy in a town not looking too kindly down to anyone who’s had anything to do with him. the aftermath of Vecna’s victory catches up with them in an assortment of ill-fated ways, shattering the old life into splinters. despite all that life keeps going, months passing by one after another, offering little of the promised healing that’s supposed to come with time, especially with the occasional hope letting itself known and even seeming warranted in the weirdest ways. cue unlikely reunions, everyone’s trauma haunting the hell out of them in all its raw messiness, lots of Upside Down physics exploration, attempts to rediscover a supposedly lost future, musings on music and particularly metal, the uneasy coexistence of implacable enmity with reluctant mutual understanding and even codependency for survival’s sake, deliberate and elaborate messing with one’s own mind and memory, the existing universe expanding into even more dimensions than merely Upside Down, and more.

to keep things somewhat symmetrical, may as well include an excerpt here too

Some part of Steve couldn’t help wondering whether the others felt the same way as him. Felt like the world around them wasn’t quite real, the garish sunlight shining too brightly for what was supposed to be the aftermath of a town-sized apocalypse, its touch perhaps not enough to seep through the remaining chill of the Upside Down but surely enough to make Steve’s sense of reality melt like it was ice-cream left out in the warm. He wasn’t entirely sure what exactly felt unreal about it though — the events of the past week, or the seeming ease their little group kept going and the way he could almost pretend that it had been nothing more than an earthquake. Almost.

[harmonyhealinghub]

Whispering in the Dark Shaina Tranquilino October 7, 2024

The fire crackled, sending sparks into the cold night air. Four friends—Liam, Ava, Noah, and Zoe—huddled around the campfire, their faces glowing in the flickering light. They had decided on a weekend camping trip to escape the pressures of work and city life, to reconnect with each other, and to enjoy the wilderness. The dense forest around them stretched into an abyss of darkness, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire.

“Anyone else hear that?” Ava asked, her voice tinged with unease.

Liam glanced at her and shook his head. “You’re just spooking yourself out. It’s nothing.”

But Ava was certain she’d heard something—faint whispers, just beyond the reach of the firelight. They had started after the sun had dipped below the horizon, so soft and elusive she couldn’t make out the words. But they were there, threading through the stillness of the night.

“Could be the wind,” Noah suggested, though he, too, seemed a little on edge. The firelight danced in his eyes, making the shadows behind him appear to shift and twist.

Zoe shifted nervously. “It doesn’t sound like the wind.”

The whispers came again, faint and chilling, as if carried on the breeze. This time, they all heard it. The sound was disembodied, yet felt too close, like someone was standing just behind them, speaking softly, deliberately.

Liam stood up abruptly, scanning the tree line. “Who’s out there?” he called, his voice cutting through the whispers. The forest offered no reply, only an oppressive silence that swallowed his words.

“This isn’t funny,” Ava muttered, pulling her jacket tighter around her. Her breath fogged in the chilly night air, but the whispers were clearer now—almost too clear. They seemed to come from all directions at once, as if the forest itself was alive, watching them.

“We should get inside the tent,” Zoe suggested, her voice trembling. “Maybe it’s just animals or something.”

Liam scoffed, trying to keep the mood light. “Yeah, talking animals. Probably just locals messing with us.”

But as they packed up to head into the tent, the whispers grew louder, more distinct. Now, they sounded like murmured conversations, but the words were impossible to comprehend. One voice stood out from the others, sharp and urgent, as if calling someone’s name. Liam turned to the others, his face pale.

"Did you guys hear that?" he whispered. "It... it sounded like my name."

No one answered. Zoe’s eyes were wide, and Noah’s hands shook as he packed up the last of the supplies. The fire flickered low, casting long, eerie shadows across the campsite.

And then the voice came again, closer this time. Liam.

Everyone froze.

“Liam, it’s just a trick,” Ava said quickly. “Someone’s out there messing with us.”

But Liam wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on the dark edge of the woods, his face a mask of confusion. “It’s calling me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It knows my name.”

Without warning, he took a step toward the darkness.

“Liam, wait!” Zoe grabbed his arm, but he shook her off, stumbling toward the trees, his gaze locked on something none of them could see.

“Liam!” Ava screamed, but he was already gone, disappearing into the blackness of the forest, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the whispers.

Noah grabbed a flashlight and bolted after him, shouting Liam’s name into the void. Ava and Zoe followed, panic driving them forward. But as they entered the forest, the voices surrounded them, more intense now, whispering directly in their ears, almost intimate.

"Turn back."

"Leave."

"He’s ours now."

The whispers slithered into their minds, seeping through every thought, every rational explanation. Fear gnawed at them, but they couldn’t stop. Liam’s figure darted between the trees ahead, moving deeper into the thick underbrush.

“Liam, stop!” Noah yelled. His voice seemed to vanish, swallowed by the whispers. The flashlight beam wavered, cutting through the mist that had begun to creep up from the ground. Shadows loomed ahead, their shapes shifting unnaturally, blending with the trees.

Liam disappeared from sight.

“Where did he go?” Ava gasped, her breath coming in short bursts. The forest felt like it was closing in around them, the trees twisting, forming a labyrinth of branches and darkness. The voices grew louder, more urgent.

“He’s not far,” Noah panted. “We’ll find him. We have to.”

But as they pushed deeper into the woods, something changed. The ground seemed to ripple beneath their feet, the air thick with the whispers, now like a chorus of malevolent beings. They weren’t alone in the woods.

Ava screamed as something brushed past her leg, cold and wet, like a hand. She stumbled, grabbing Zoe’s arm. “We need to go back,” she cried. “We can’t stay here.”

Suddenly, the flashlight flickered and went out, plunging them into complete darkness. The whispers surged, drowning out their frantic breathing, filling the silence with words they couldn’t understand, but the intent was clear.

They weren’t welcome.

In the pitch black, a new sound emerged—a low, guttural growl that vibrated through the earth. Zoe whimpered, clutching Ava’s arm tightly, her nails digging into her skin. Noah frantically tried to turn the flashlight back on, but it was useless. The growling grew louder, circling them, and they could feel something in the darkness, something hungry.

Then, from behind them, Liam’s voice rang out, but it was wrong—warped and distorted.

“Help me…”

It was a plea, but it wasn’t Liam.

“We have to run,” Ava whispered, terror making her voice tremble. “Now.”

They didn’t need convincing. Together, they bolted through the forest, the voices and growls chasing after them. The trees seemed to close in, the air thick with something suffocating. Ava could feel it—something was right behind her, its breath hot on the back of her neck.

They broke through the tree line and back into the campsite. The fire was nearly out, a few glowing embers all that remained. Gasping for breath, they huddled together, waiting, listening.

The whispers stopped.

But Liam never came back.

And in the dead of night, as the fire died completely, they knew they weren’t alone.

[btranwrites]

Liam An

Gay superhero + Lovecraftian horror novella in progress

Welcome to Neon City, esteemed citizen. Supers patrol the streets among you. With the protection of the Hall of Heroes, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

Welcome to Glacial Holdings Group. Liam? Of course, right this way. You’ve heard of Liam, you’ve met Liam, you’re here to talk to Liam. Why wouldn’t you? He gets you deals that by all considerations, are good for your business. No, more importantly, Liam gets you. Don’t worry that the Group benefits from these deals, it’s just business, you understand, right? After all, you get him, too.

You saw Liam. Caught glimpses of Liam, perhaps stole a few glances. At the gym? At the bar? Just getting breakfast at the Ornament, the definition of prestige dining? No you didn’t, he was looking for you. Yes, you. Why don’t you get a drink with him? It would be nice to get a drink with Liam. It would be nice to dance with Liam. It would be nice to kiss Liam. It is nice to kiss Liam. You won’t know until you try. You know you want it.

You don’t need to spill blood to make deals with the Devil from a mirror, but you still need to pay. If you’re a man and he likes you, you can fuck him, like literally, but whatever you’re willing to give, make sure you hold up your end of the bargain. If you don’t, well. Enjoy your time left before the Shard Reaper comes collect his dues.

More details and listing under the cut!

1. Executive Intervention (read on website)

The Group is facing a sudden business disruption threatening one of its subsidiaries. Liam is here to intervene on behalf of the Board.

…The candles snuffed out, though Sabrina felt no air movement. All but a single flame remained against the sudden darkness, and in the mirror where she should be, stood a man. The meagre illumination from the candle couldn’t penetrate the blackness that shrouded his face, but still its reflection danced as two golden pinpricks where his eyes should be. She swore if she looked at them long enough, they would bear through the back of her skull, scraping clean every ounce of secret she harboured there.

2. Hall Business (read on website)

Things are well on the Glacial front, but the Hall comes calling. There is trouble afoot that needs the Reaper's attention.

...Jamie softened. "That's the only almost-common denominator, yes. Can you handle this?" "Of course," Liam stands up. "It's Marion Square. If the Reaper can't defend his origin, then he may as well hand in his badge."

3. Trench Complications (read on website)

It’s drag night at the Trench, a queer bar west of Neon City. Liam’s machinations go according to plan. Until it doesn’t.

…here in the darkness, illuminated only by faint and reflected light, Liam was all but submerged in the Glasslit Void, and empowered by his demesne’s presence, he felt clear as day the tension washing away from Lee like dust to the wind. On a face that had been scowling at his phone all night bloomed a reserved grin, and Liam felt himself, too, easing up.

…and the eyes. No light reflected from them, pits darker than a starless night, wet and living black sinking into a pair of open, hungry mouths. This was no simple darkness of the night, no comfortable presence of the Glasslit Void. This was something else.

4. Ill Correction (read on website)

Wesley is eager to show his new girlfriend to his parents, but cannot stop feeling like something is wrong.

His parents had high standards, after all. But what were they? Somewhere within, Wesley felt a fleeting ghost of a worry, a whisper that he was missing something important. But its fingers were weak and limp, barely applying the weakest pressure on his throat, enough to hitch his breath for but a second, not quite strong enough for him to stop, for him to hang onto, for him to stop and scream for what was missing.

Huh. No need to be so dramatic. Why stress over nothing? He was young, plenty of fish in the sea. He’d just got to find someone good enough, someone right, someone with a correct checklist.

What else was he supposed to want from a partner?

[facesofthefog]

@broken-paperclip

Liam had stayed away from the camps and other mortals for the most part. The fire burning where the survivors resided always irritated his skin. The light itself was blinding, keeping him beyond the barrier. He didn't feel the need to socialise either, silently passing between the trees and often observing from afar.

But this time he had spotted a mortal that piqued his interest. Perhaps the other had wandered into the forest driven by curiosity or desperation, maybe he was returning from a trial. It did not matter to the Void Born. What mattered was that sickly-sweet smell that seemed to linger around Isaiah. And it was enough to make Liam want to approach for the first time.

"Are you lost?" Came almost a whisper from behind Isaiah's back.

[rosesrflo]

hiya I wanna request some william comfort fic bc I had a bad day today but where I can find your rules? I'm currently using tumblr app, so I cannot find it

Feat; William James Moriarty x gn!reader (MTP). Genre; fluff, comfort

Prompt; ❛❛I’ll hold you tight.❞ Warnings; bad days, ugly crying/lh

Desc; IN WHICH William is always the first to pick you up on your worst days, not only is he a great crime consultant - he’s also an excellent comforter.

A/N; heyy lovely! Sorry i’m a bit late with this request, but i do hope you’re feeling better now - the reason you couldn’t find my rules is bc I haven’t made them yet. Mostly bc I’m using mobile + this blog is quite new - but I’m working on it atm ❤️ thank you and enjoy!

We all have bad days.

And in all his genius, William certainly isn’t a stranger to them.

In fact, most of his days used to be plagued with storm clouds, with no sunshine or light until you stumbled into his life.

You were a gift, your very presence lifted him from the darkest depths, you were undeserved.

Back then, he had realised how angelic you were - Liam just knew that you were too good for him so he tried to scare you off by showing you his intentions, his thoughts, he trusted you with the worst of his plans.

Yet, you didn’t bat an eye. Only acknowledging each and every part of him, you saw him for who he was and began mending his heart because you love him.

It’s a WIP

William can still feel your warmth encasing him in a hug - that December night, the first time you ever saw him cry. You held him close, stroking his hair and kissed his head like a mother would. You filled that empty void in his chest.

That’s why he wants to do the same for you, Will believes he is forever in your debt.

And when you cry, are upset, have a bad day, he’ll hold you tight; just as you did him.

Also because you are literally the last person in the world that should go through any type of pain.

The corners of your lips downturned as you sat in the living room, cross legged with a cup of cold tea, your hands trembled, biting frost bite seeped into your bones and reached the depths of your soul. You felt heavy in sadness. No thoughts except crystal teardrops cascading down your frowning face.

There was no particular reason for the gloomy mood.

Today just so happened to be an off day, one where no matter what you did to escape it, you couldn’t. Your tea was near frozen over as cold, December nights bled into the estate. You were alone, shivering and crying with no one to confide in.

They’d all gone out to celebrate the closing in Christmas, maybe you should’ve joined them but it was far too late now.

What would they say if they saw you like this?

In your moment of pondering, you didn’t notice a familiar criminal mastermind standing behind you, his arms crossed and a thinking expression plastered on his face. William was confused as to why you hadn’t gone out with the rest of the organization. “(y/n)? I thought you were celebrating with the others.”

You froze in the spot, why was he here? In order to not reveal your distraught state to him, you stayed still without turning around to face him, “So did I.” Nonchalantly reaching for the cup of tea, you shivered upon the sudden coldness against your hand.

“I suppose we’re both in the same boat,” He smiled passively, realizing you were both alone together, “but I’d rather you tell me why you’re upset first.” Liam tapped two fingers on his other arm in anticipation.

A weak laugh echoed across the room, you being the source of it; even though he called your unsaid bluffs, you hadn’t flinched once, you didn’t take William an oblivious man, he was smart and easily figured you out, “I don’t know.”

After your empty chucking fit, you whispered a hoarse reply, nothing but honesty in your disappointed tone. He simply observed your manic attitude, not moving an inch, “I see.”

Staring down at your upturned hands, you felt dissatisfied, unhappy for showing yourself in this depressing light, the one part Will hadn’t seen yet. He was never supposed to see you like this, you were an utter mess today and what’s worse is that he saw it.

You felt the feeling before the sting of your hand as you slapped yourself lightly, “(y/n)-“ William jumped to action immediately, he rushed in front of you in case you dealt anymore harm to yourself. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this, I shouldn’t be crying over…something so simple.”

“Cry all you need to, although I despise seeing you distressed - it’s quite normal and let me tell you a secret-..” He lent to your face, cupping his hand near your ear to whisper something, “..-Sometimes, even I cry.” You giggled slightly at his jest, not noticing that this was his way of cheering you up.

William let a sly grin slide on his lips, “Now that’s the smile I love.” He linked your hands together, landing an intimate peck on your lips, his eyes softened at your delighted face; you were as beautiful as ever, especially when you were happy. He felt some sort of proudness at achieving this.

No one knew you like William.

[strangerquinns]

angst with a fluffy ending with stiles? where he breaks up with reader after the whole donovan thing (even though she believes him) because he thinks he’s dangerous and could hurt her, and it starts with them as exes and then they reconcile? 💗💗

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

It's been almost a year since Stiles broke your heart. But is that the end of your love story?

angst with fluff

words: 1.5k+

"Stiles?" You watched him nearly trip over himself as he rushed out of his truck and towards his home. The rain was causing your clothes to stick to your body and having a cold shiver run through you. But you didn't care. You could see the pain in his face the moment he turned and looked toward you. It ripped through you and made your chest squeeze.

"Stiles..." You whispered this time as you moved towards him, watching as he stopped for a moment. But as you got closer, Stiles stared at you with blank eyes - emotionless. Like a mask was slipped on. He stumbled back a few steps as you drew closer.

You knew what he was doing the moment you recognized it.

"No...no, don't you dare..." You spoke quickly as you rushed towards him.

"You need to get out of here," Stiles spoke.

"What happened? With Scott? He believed you right?" You spoke, ignoring him. "He believed you right?"

"No!" Stiles screamed, the anger creeping back up. "Fucking Theo got to him before me, but you know what...maybe it doesn't matter."

Stiles let out a breathy laugh of false hope, shaking his head from side to side before his eyes looked back towards you.

"I killed someone, y/n. With my hands, I murdered Donovon."

"In self-defense," You counter-argued, "He would've killed you if you didn't defend yourself, Stiles."

"Doesn't matter. After everything with Void and now this...maybe something truly is wrong with me." Stiles paused and stepped towards you more. "That darkness never left. I have felt it since the moment Void came into my life and it never truly went away. I'm not safe to be around."

"What? Of course, you are. This is just fear talking."

"It's not fear. It's the truth finally coming forth. I'm not good to be around...a-and maybe it would be best if you weren't around me anymore."

Suddenly your heart felt like it was in your throat, "No."

"Just...leave, y/n. Leave...we're done. Don't come around anymore."

That memory played in your mind over and over again for almsot a year. You'd never felt pain like the night that Stiles pushed you away. You knew the moment that Theo came back into town that Stiles had been on edge. That entire time you were always on his side, believing every word that came out of his mouth about what was going on. For the last four years, you stood at his side loving him, believing him, fighting for him.

But after one moment he'd pushed you aside and you knew that it was because of fear. Deep down you knew why he did it and you couldn't blame Stiles at all. But that didn't stop your heart from breaking into pieces and shattering all over the floor that night.

And even after everything seemed to slowly repair itself back together within the pack - nothing could repair what was happening between you and Stiles. In a matter of weeks, you'd lost both your best friend and the love of your life.

"You coming over tonight? Was gonna have a good ol' fashion pizza and movie night." Scott asked, leaning against the closed locker beside your open one.

"Ummm...." You paused and hesitated for a moment. You slowly closed your locker before turning towards him. Scott could see the hesitance in your eyes.

"Please. You haven't come and hung out in so long."

"He’s going to be there…isn't he?"

Scott sighed and nodded his head, "But so will Liam, Lydia, Kira, and Malia. So we aren't going to be alone. The Pack misses you."

You bit down on your lower lip for a moment before caving in and nodding your head. The sad puppy dog eyes that Scott was giving you seemed to really work. Even if deep down you were dreading seeing Stiles,

So you went about your school day like normal, trying to let the nerves go. But it seemed the closer and closer the clock ticked towards the end of the night. There was a moment as you walked back home that you tried to think of excuses to make in order to get out of going. But noting viable came to mind and you knew that Scott would just come and check o you if you made an excuse that you were sick.

It was time to face him.

You'd knocked on the door of the McCall household, and the door swung open only seconds later. And before you could even prepare yourself, the one person you were panicked to see stood in front of you.

Stiles breathed your name softly as he stared down at you. His brown eyes were wide with both shock and a little bit of something else you couldn't sense. But you couldn't ignore that feeling that shot through your chest and moved down, making your body suddenly feel warm. It was the only feeling that Stiles could give you. It was a feeling of home. A feeling of safety.

"I-I...I didn't think...you were c-coming." Stiles spoke softly.

"Scott asked at school, didn't really have me feeling like I didn't have an option to opt-out this time."

"Yeah, Scott has a way of making people feel that way sometimes." Stiles chuckled softly, looking behind him for a moment, before stepping forward and closing the door behind him.

You stumbled back for a moment when he stepped into your space. A shuttered breath left between your lips as the musky scent of his cologne washed over you.

"I-I was hoping we could talk also?"

"Stiles..."

"Please," He begged with his voice cracking slightly. It was like the pain he'd been holding down was finally trying to breakthrough. But he could see it, the pain he caused himself was reflected in your eyes. "I have wanted to make things right because for the last few months I have done nothing but regret what I did to you."

Quickly you felt the all-familiar burn behind your eyes and the clogging at the back of your throat. You shook your head quickly not wanting to rip open the wound you felt was finally starting to close up.

"That night...after I talked to Scott about Donovon, all I could think about was how he was right. How maybe there was something that I never realized was there. This darkness that has lingered around ever since the nogitsune took control of my mind there has been this shadow that never went away."

Stiles took a few deep breaths.

"And even though I knew that you believed me, I knew that I needed to make sure that I stayed as far from you as possible. I was no good for you...or so I thought so at the time."

"W-What...so you thought that pushing me away was going to help? Was going to make me feel better?"

"It was stupid and I hated it the moment that I did it. To see the pain that I put you in..."

The moment Stiles saw the tears streak down your cheeks slowly, he moved quickly on instinct and reached to wipe them from your cheeks. He was thankful that you didn't step away from him. Thankful for just that moment he was able to be near you again, and touch you.

"Why now? Why tell me now after all this time? It's been almost a year, Stiles!"

"Because I can't...I can't let you go no matter how much I know it's selfish of me to want you."

"You truly think for a second that I would still be with you if I knew that you'd hurt me?" You nearly shouted, stepping out of his touch. "That fear that you have, Stiles...I get it. It makes sense how you feel scared and everything that has happened has been horrible. Especially what has happened to you. But I was there by your side the entire time, not willing to let me be there that time was cruel. Like you didn't...trust me or something. Or trust yourself!"

"I didn't trust myself, y/n. That is the whole point!" Stiles spoke with desperation in his voice.

"I love you, Stiles! I still do!" You groaned slightly. "God, you are so smart and yet so stupid at the same time."

Stiles moved back towards you, invading your space again, grabbing your face so your tear-filled eyes focused on him. "Tell me I didn't fuck this up to the point where I couldn't get another chance. I will grovel on my knees for as long as I have to in order to be at your side again. Cause I have felt like there has been a hole in my heart since I fucked everything up."

You sniffled and stared up at Stiles. And as much as your head was telling you to forget him and not give him the chance, your heart ached too much. You'd been walking around on autopilot without him at your side. Stiles was the love of your life, and you knew that.

"Stiles," You whispered before reaching up and grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down towards you. Your lips met against his in a soft kiss, melting into one another for a moment, before the ache became too much. Before his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.

For the first time in so long, you felt like you were able to breathe.