#will continue and hopefully finish this fic tomorrow sometime

[dark-side-blog3]

Ignore that this Home Alone inspired poly adeuce fic is a month late. Or choose to read it for 2024 Christmas, up to you.

I had a lot of fun writing this! Put it into a word counter just for fun, and I'm surprised to see that my first real WIP I finished in 2024 is 3k long! It was just so fun to imagine a twist one of my favourite Christmas movies, and I got so caught up in the fun of it I didn't make my deadline ^^; It was originally meant to be a short little crackfic, but it was just too fun! There are some cracky, campy elements, but that's just in the spirit of the movie I based it off!

Anyways: MDNI, warnings for standard yandere things, and creepy crawlies.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Shouldn't we be pouring salt on the pathway?"

"Nah," you smile, splashing another bucket of water on the front steps. "This is so we can have a nice slip-and-slide for tobogganing tomorrow, Grim! Same reason I'm filling up a little ice rink in the back-- I wanna do some skating. I can't wait for it to freeze over and teach you how!"

Grims' head shakes fervently as he beams; "Just you wait! I'll show you the grace and speed of a master figure skater! I'm gonna be teaching YOU how to skate by the time we're done!"

"Well if you wanna do that, you're gonna need to be well rested. Can you grab us some cookies for before-bed snacks?" you encourage, the monster agreeing and scampering off inside the dorm house to pilfer the cupboard.

You continue pouring water on the steps and trudge around the house's perimeter to check on the steps leading outside to make sure they're freezing over like you intended. You have several other home security measures to check over...

Most of the staff, and students for that matter, went home for the holidays. Family to see, vacations to take... A life to live outside of the school and other people in it. Should anything happen, Crowley was unfortunately unavailable (what else is new, the old bastard), nor was Vargas, Trein, or Crewl. Normally they'd be spattered throughout the holiday to watch over the students. But there are other teachers on the premises, and hardly any students who can't return home for whatever reason, and they let it slip by... One night during the whole winter break when none of your trusted faculty members nor any of your more powerful friends like Malleus or Idia could help if you got into trouble.

And maybe, maybe your brain has been rotted by movies and defending yourself from overblotted students.

But it's better safe than sorry.

With everything seemingly in order, and the sun setting quickly behind the treeline of school woods, you rush over to the front gate to hang a large sign:

NO SOLICITORS

Hopefully, this will deter anyone planning to intrude on you tonight.

You trudge your way back to the front door, carefully avoiding the steps. You spend the next few hours snacking with Grim while watching movies together, playing card games, and chattering about what ifs and would you rather... Before too long, it's time for bed, and Grim is out like a light, thanks to several pounds of turkey stuffing, potatoes, and cookies you still had after the holiday party days ago.

The party was fun... It did leave you with more leftovers you knew what to do with, which is always great. You got to wish Rook Joyeuses Fête, decorate cookies with Jack and Jade (the merman being much better at decorating, likely due to working in the lounge), and say goodbye to everyone dear to you before they left for their own plans... But it also had Ace and Deuce.

Which, on the one hand, they're harmless. You know they are. They're just jerks sometimes.

They should be focusing on their studies, and you had to devote your time to keeping Ramshakle clean, and Grim on task to graduate... The little monster became somewhat of a family member. Surrogate son or little brother you're not entirely sure, but you want him to succeed.

And even if the pair of heartslabyul boys were gifted students that excelled at every course with time to spare, Grim wasn't-- Grim needed your help to study, to get to class, to handle some of his projects for him when his paws would cause accidents in the potion lab. Grim needs your help to get through college, and it keeps you way too busy for a relationship with either guy.

And even though they soured the mood of the party right after you told them as such, it's the truth, and that's what it is. You're not going to jeopardize Grim's future just to date college students.

They acted like jerks for the rest of the winter break.

When everyone was opening presents, they bitched at everyone for the gifts they exchanged, teased relentlessly, knocked over decor, and told each classmate going through the magic mirror over the week to 'take their time coming back, if at all'. Poor Idia had an anxiety attack when they started teasing him; it took you half an hour to calm him down enough to stop puking and stick to just dry heaving. Grim scampered off after Idia fainted a second time... It took another hour after that to help him through the magic mirror, with his robot escorts. You would have walked through with him, but he insisted holding your hand as he left would be enough, only dragging you somewhat through the portal.

It was rubbing you the wrong way how they were picking fights with everyone, and snubbing Grim anytime they saw you and the monster around campus.

Suddenly, the front gates screech open, drawing you out of your thoughts. You peek out the sliver of the window from behind the thick curtain in the bedroom to see two figures shuffle through the snow.

It can't be them. Even if you were just thinking of them, that would be too... Convenient. Like some movie logic. Thinking of people doesn't summon them.

Whoever it is will be getting a nasty surprise in three, two, one--

A muffled thud and string of curses can be heard from the other side of the glass. You sneak your way down the stairs so you can at least see who's at the door.

"Son of a--! Grim!" Deuce shouts. So much for not summoning them.

"Open the door, little buddy! We know that you're in there and that you're all alone... Your precious prefect is spending the last night of the winter break with someone else, right?" Ace yells, quickly being joined by a snickering and rapping at the door.

A shadow presses itself against the window, trying to peer through sheer curtains. You duck behind one of the striped couches on the outside of the room, close to the walls. Through the reflection of the glass cabinet, you can see the figure stay and linger at the window, tapping against the glass with a small can.

"Come on Grim. We've got tuna for ya if you just open the door and have a chat..." Deuce says, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yells through the glass.

His shadow straightens up, before pounding back on the glass, rattling the old pane against the tight frame, the narrow strips of wood being tight enough together that neither of them could just force their way through the window; Even if they shattered all the glass.

Which Deuce just might, slamming himself into the frame as hard as he could.

"I saw you move in there! Don't ignore us!" He shatters a pane, shoving his hand through to grab at the sheer curtains and tug, ripping them.

You duck back behind the couch, scanning for tools to protect yourself. Shut up. Don't be stupid, just think. Think quick, and smart.

The banging stops for a second. Before becoming far louder-- powerful enough to feel the floor shake. Metal creaks against its hinges, and the lock crashes into the strike plate of the door.

Ignore that, focus. Cleaning supplies. Always nearby, the dorm is filthy. Dish soap and mop bucket.

You dart out from behind the couch to grab the bottle of dish soap, grabbing it and rolling up against the wall just in time as the banging stops, the door knob jiggles and a thin wire pokes itself out from the cracks between the door frame. It makes quick work of the locks on the door, before opening, and Ace proudly struts into the room. The second he does, you pop the cap and squeeze the bottle, squirting bright blue goop into his eyes and smarmy mouth! And you splurt the floor for good measure!

You sprint back to behind the couch he pulls back, sputtering, and wiping it from his eyes in thick globs. You watch through the reflection of the cabinet as Deuce shoves his way past Ace as he splatters fistfuls of goop onto the floor, next to the bottle of leaking dish soap. Ace shoves Deuce for the push, and the resulting shove has both of them slipping on the puddle of dish soap you left in your hurry.

"Ahg-- Ace?! Why are you on the floor?"

A visibly wet smack as dish soap arches off Ace's gloves, slapping damply right into Deuce's face as he grunts from under his classmate: "Get off me, you buffoon! Go find the cat-- Grim, I'm gonna skin you for this, you little creep!"

"Don't make threats until after we have the little rat, runt. If he goes tattling we're screwed--"

"There's no one to tattle to! He's all alone in this big house! Even the ghosts aren't here! If we stick his claws in an electrical socket or force-feed him motor oil, no one would think anything of it! He's just a dumb animal that killed himself without supervision!"

Something glints from under the couch. You grasp at it, finding a spare ornament, and an unused ziptie, threaded through the top. There's got to be something you can use to create a bigger distraction and get you and Grim out of here.

There has to be something in reach-- going back to the bucket in plain sight of them is too risky. Shoving your hand under the couch, your clutch the first thing that your grasp: An aerosol room freshener. Score.

Wrapping the ziptie around the spray trigger, you tighten it and roll it over to the boys, still scrambling about on the floor. You watch from the reflection in the cabinet as Deuce gets a heavy spray right in the eyes, hollering in pain!

"AUGH-- Fucker! You think you're so smart, punk?! Your little bomb just gave away your position!" Deuce shouts, whipping out his magic pen, covering his eyes.

You feel a sense of dread. Primal instinct. You leap out from behind the couch just as he summons a caldron to crash into the couch, narrowly missing you as it smashes the solid oak to splinters. Splinters stick to your socks, embedding in your feet as you scamper off to another room, streams of water and gusts of wind being shot after you.

Just as you turn the corner to climb up the stairs and rush to Grim's room, you hear Ace curse exasperatedly, stumbling his way to the end of the hall to stare at you, still wiping his eyes on his sleeves. Another string of sighed curses leaves his lips as he watches you scramble up the stairs, making accidental eye-contact.

They know their plans are botched now.

Gotta climb faster.

On all fours, you claw up the stairs, just as a tug on your ankle forces your jaw to slam into them. Casting a glance backwards, Ace has gripped your ankle with his sticky gloves, grinning madly as you struggle to tug your ankle away from him, and try to dodge the other one of his hands trying to grasp for your other leg, only to end up sloppily groping your ass before trying again. You try to shake and kick him off, getting a hits to the side of his head, but not as effective as if you had room to wind up. He's gripping so hard it feels like he's going to break something. You scramble, shifting your weight side to side to get him off, prying yourself off the stairs and scratching your nails into the old wood. Your nails cling to the baseboard, prying the edge as much as you can, the wood creaking and snapping off with each desperate tug to pull yourself up.

The baseboard snaps, and you find yourself with a small wooden shiv, thinking to whip around and stab it into Ace's hand, leading him to retract for a second long enough for you to scramble up a step again-- before being slammed back down into the wood as you're grabbed again.

A girthy, irrate red centipede wiggles its way out from the hole in the baseboard, defensive of the now-ruined home.

You snatch it up, close to the head and the snapping mandibles as it wriggled and writhed, as you slowly reached back around to Ace, still clinging to your legs as you tried to shake him off. The teen was so focused on keeping you still as he pulled some ducttape off the roll with his teeth, that he didn't see the massive, snakelike body of the centipede until it was too late; And you stick it right on his face.

He seemed to freeze, giving you enough time to tug your leg again, just as he screamed an ear-piecing shriek!

Ace pawed at his face squirming violently on the stairs, thumping loudly on each step back to the bottom as you sprinted your way upstairs, into Grims room, slamming and locking the door behind you!

"What the hell is wrong--"

"PSYCHO PREFECT IS WHAT! Is it in my hair? Fucking thing was thick as a finger, and they put it right on my face! Is it in my hair?!"

"The prefect is home?! Dude! We're so screwed!"

"So go up there and get them, dipshit! Why are you standing still when they're up there getting a fucking bear trap or something ready?! Are you having an aneurysm or something?! Why are you just staring at me like that?!"

"...Ace... Don't... Move."

"Deuce... What are you talking about? Go get them-"

"Don't. Move."

"Deuce..?"

The telltale crash of a cast iron cauldron smashing through your rotten wood floors makes you nearly shit yourself, glancing back at a sleep-stirring Grim.

"DID I GET IT?"

"YOU ALMOST CRUSHED MY SKULL YOU NUTCASE!"

"DID I GET IT?!"

"You fucking moron!"

You snatch Grim up, using the blanket he was sleeping with like a hobo bag to hold him in, and open the window, edging your way carefully onto the roof. If you can just make safely to the other side of Ramshackle, you can try scaling down the ivy. And it will at least give you a head start-- Maybe hiding out in Sams is the best idea. A store owner must have a CCTV, right? And if Ace and Deuce try and kill either of you, then even if something happens to you, they'll get caught...

You wrap the corners of Grims blanket around your shoulders, like a makeshift baby pouch. You can definitely feel him squirming on your back, starting to wake up. You let go of the window, slipping down the rough roof tile. Laying on your stomach, you side-shuffle over, staying as low to the roof as you can to get the most traction. The edge nearly takes you by surprise when your foot doesn't connect with length that's not there. Slowly, you shuffle even closer to the edge, swaying your arm around the edge to find the vines of Ivy.

"I FOUND 'EM, ACE!"

Your head whips around to see Deuce leaning as far as he can out of the window before he scrambles to get onto the roof.

Whipping your head back to focus, you grab a fistful of vines and pull the rest of your body off the roof! You snatch another fistful with your other hand as you fall.

And fall all the way down, watching in horror as the ivy peels itself from the brick walls.

You feel Grim claw his way out of the pouch and onto your face just in time, as you land on your back with a sickening crunch.

"Oh shit," Ace comments, seemingly having been waiting for you at the bottom of the wall. You see Grim flee across the yard out of the corner of your eye, unable to lift your head.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot, and Deuce panting like crazy soon joins Ace in staring at you as you lay helpless on the ground. As soon as he arrives he gets asked: "Are we gonna get Grim?"

"No point, really..." Comes the huffed response; "We were gonna get him to fuck off, and he's fucked right off. Tonight didn't really go to plan anyway."

A boot gently kicks at your side as Ace turns his attention back to you: "Are you paralyzed or something? That was quite the fall."

You open your mouth to speak, but only a cracked whine makes it out. You cringe and try again, but nothing intelligible comes out.

"Holy shit, they're brain-damaged!" Ace grins, laughing as he backs away from you.

You feel Deuce tugging at your legs in the snow, dragging you from your shallow ditch in the snow. He begins tugging you closer to the dorm, before he drops your legs, moving to grab you under your arms and haul you that way, up against a wall. Breaking a window, he shoves you in, head first. The cold floors of Ramshackle are still warmer than the ice and snow.

"Alright. Hey, real quick, can you feel this?" Deuce begins poking you with a wire from an ornament, starting with your legs, and making his way up on both sides. You nod, wincing at some particularly sharp pricks, to which Deuce responds by rubbing the area to dull the pain.

"Can you say where you are right now? Do you know who I am? Who you are?" You nod again, voice stumbling through a pained response.

"Awesome. You're not brain-damaged! You're probably just winded from the fall. Is anything broken? Can you wiggle your fingers and toes? Try twisting side to side. If you can't it means your spine might be broken, and you need a doctor."

You comply, weirded out by the sudden care, but the doctor comment means they will call someone. And that someone will keep you safe, and them away. The pain's already fading, and likely nothing serious, but you could trick them... Deuce particularly seems like a soft touch. You wince as you try to twist, feigning inability.

Deuce makes a worried expression, like he's about to piss himself from fear.

He backs off slightly, giving you a bit more breathing room: "Try crossing your arms and lifting them as far away from your ribs as you can".

You comply again, feigning difficulty,

And duct tape wraps around your wrists instantly. Deuce presses his knee down into your chest to pin you down as he wraps as tightly as he can, while Ace ties your legs from outside.

"This really, really isn't my style. But we've got to get you somewhere that is not here when the teachers come back tomorrow, and we can't have Grim knowing where to find you." Deuce rambles, soaking his glove in a bottle of something, before pressing it to your face. He continues rambling, leaning in closer to whisper: "And I know how this looks! But I promise we won't do anything to you while you sleep. Or when you wake up! I swear! It's all more normal than it seems tonight-- or it can be anyways. And... And if you give me some time, give me a chance, we can even ditch Ace and forget this night ever happened! You just need some time somewhere else..."

The room spins with dark spots as Deuce presses his soaked glove further into your face. He continues rambling at you, while you feel Ace begin dragging you back out the window again. The snow doesn't feel cold this time as you fall into it. It just feels soft.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie!Ghost Story (Chapter Ten)

Summary: Simon’s arms were impossibly tight around her, almost crushing her to his chest. Lelia didn’t mind. She wanted to be as close to him as physically possible—would have crawled inside his ribcage and nestled next to his unbeating heart, if she could have. She knew she would be safe there. Simon always kept her safe. Word Count: 2972 Warnings: still no smut but Ghost does something a tad creepy (it's okay we still love him), flashback/descriptions of past non-con, extreme cuteness Notes: I hope you all enjoy getting this chapter a day early this week! I will be on a road trip starting tomorrow, so posting will not be possible. This chapter has one of my favorite scenes I've written for this fic, it's so sweet. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist

It took them two more days to reach the village, and just in time. Snow had started falling an hour before, and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon.

The village appeared mostly untouched from what Ghost could see of it, and he was glad. That meant they’d be more likely to find supplies that his dove desperately needed. The final bottle of water was finished yesterday, the last time she’d eaten was at the river, when he’d managed to catch a fish for her while bathing. She was shaking like a leaf, too, the exposed skin of her face bright red from the cold.

Needing to get her warm immediately, Ghost shuffled her into the first house they saw. It was a small thing, only a little bigger than the cabin. Lelia practically collapsed on the couch in front of the unlit fireplace, looking between him and it hopefully as she shivered, her teeth chattering. Simon shook his head, letting out an apologetic grunt that made her face drop in the most horrible way. But he couldn’t risk lighting it before he’d cleared the village and made sure he wouldn’t be alerting anyone to their presence.

So instead, he helped her take off her soaked puffer jacket, replacing it with the thick quilt folded over the arm of the couch. He hung the jacket on a coat rack near the door, along with her hat, mittens, and jeans, which were heavy with melted snow. He placed his helmet and vest on the floor next to it, a habit he'd formed at his dove’s request. She said she wanted him to be more comfortable around her, but sometimes he thought seeing all the gear just brought up bad memories for her.

Next, he disappeared into the toilet, coming back with a fluffy towel. He kneeled down in front of Lelia, undoing her boots—his fingers had gotten much more dexterous with continued use, though he was still slow—and peeling off her wet socks. Her feet were red and irritated, but he let out a breath of relief when there were no signs of frostbite.

She’d asked him once why he still did that—breathing. He didn’t do it all the time, didn’t need to, but sometimes he let out a whoosh of air or inhaled sharply when the urge overtook him. He’d just given her a shrug. He didn’t really know—but it did hurt his pride a bit that little habits like that were harder to kill than he had been.

He wrapped the towel around her left foot and began to dry it—only to stop when Lelia nearly kicked him, letting out a shriek of laughter.

“S-sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Tickles.”

Simon’s eyes crinkled, and he resumed drying her foot off, more carefully this time. She let out cute little giggles while squirming in place. He may have been more thorough than necessary, just to get her to the point where she was clutching her sides and gasping for breath, a wide grin on her face.

Damn it all, he wanted to kiss her.

When she finally wheezed out a plea for mercy, he stopped and sat back, just looking up at her admiringly for a long moment. He knew he shouldn't indulge the direction his thoughts were going, but he couldn't help it. She looked so fucking pretty, sitting above him, her chest still heaving from trying to catch her breath, a sweet smile on her face.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he started massaging her sore feet. She twitched again, looking down at him with playful suspicion. But when he didn’t start wiggling his fingers against the soles, she relaxed, fixing the blanket so it made a hood over her head and settling further into the couch.

She still giggled when he rubbed a particularly ticklish spot, but she let out soft sighs of contentment, too. Especially when his hands moved from her feet up to her calves. He didn’t slide them beneath her woolen stockings like he wanted to, knowing his ice cold fingers would only make her shiver more. But he massaged her through them, working on the tight muscles.

He stopped when he got to her knees, just the tips of his fingers brushing her thighs. He heard her heart rate pick up, and before he could pull away, he smelled it. Sweet and subtle and musky. She was aroused again.

He looked up at her as he began to drool. She was dozing, not quite asleep but not awake, either. He licked his teeth. He wanted to taste her so badly. And not her flesh this time, either. He'd had a whole buck just a couple of days ago—the virus’s instincts were satiated. No, the hunger he felt right now was all too human.

Before he could think better of it, Ghost nudged her thighs apart a little bit. He wasn't going to touch her, no matter how badly he wanted to. He just wanted to smell her a little better…

Watching her carefully, he leaned in until his nose brushed against the apex of her thighs from beneath his mask. She twitched, but didn't open her eyes. So he inhaled deeply—only to immediately let out a sound between a loud growl and moan, unable to stop himself.

“Simon?” His dove asked sleepily, squinting down at him. He pulled back, but not fast enough. She frowned at him, clearly confused, and rubbed her eyes, as if that might help her understand what she was seeing better. “What are you doing?”

Ghost had no bloody idea how to answer. Wouldn't have even if he could’ve talked. He didn't know how to explain what she’d caught him doing. That he wasn’t sniffing between her legs like a dog because he wanted to eat her—at least not in the way a zombie should. He thought she would be more understanding if that were the case. If it had been him almost giving into the virus, and not just him being a perverted old man creeping on a young, pretty thing like her while she was vulnerable.

“You’re shaking,” Lelia said, voice soft and concerned, and she reached down, running her fingers through his hair. Simon’s eyes widened and he stiffened in shock. Instantly, his dove stopped, beginning to pull her hand back, already starting to apologize. He grabbed her wrist, almost too hard, and brought her hand back to his hair. She blinked, but resumed the petting, and his head dropped to rest on her thigh, unable to hold it up any longer. She jumped, and the smell of her arousal grew stronger, but she didn't stop, just used the blanket to gently wipe away the drool on his broken jaw. “It’s alright, Simon. I’m here. You’re not alone anymore.”

Christ, she was far too good for him. He didn't deserve to be near her, let alone for her to comfort him like this, especially after what he'd just done. Something she clearly misinterpreted, because there was no way in hell, earth, or heaven that she would be touching him so sweetly if she had. It made him wonder about just how innocent she was, if she didn't recognize what he'd been doing. Had a man never used his mouth on her? Had she ever even had sex?

Ghost growled softly, trying to clear his head. But her scent was so strong from where he was, and he couldn’t help but think about it. About what was causing it.

He'd written it off as a coincidence, the other day. He’d thought it the only possible explanation. But now…

Taking a risk, Ghost moved his hands from her knees to rest against the sides of her thighs, so he could hug her legs. His dove’s breath stuttered, but she didn't push him away or even stop carding her fingers through his hair.

And the smell of her wetness grew stronger.

Simon let out a disbelieving gurgle, lifting his head a bit to look up at Lelia in awe. She smiled sweetly at him, tenderly brushing the back of her knuckles over the outline of his mask with her free hand, as if stroking his face.

It was a harsh reminder of reality, but one that was sorely needed. By some miracle, she may have been physically attracted to him, but that didn't matter. Not when he still didn’t have lips to kiss her with, or body heat to keep her warm. Not when he couldn't give her children, couldn't even get it up for her because his blood didn't fucking flow. Not when he couldn’t take off his damn mask because he was afraid the sight of his face would give her nightmares.

It didn't matter if she got wet when he touched her, not when he couldn't love her like she deserved.

So instead of pressing any further, he contented himself with what he had—which was far more than he ever thought he would get. The peace it brought him just to rest his head against her leg like this while she petted his hair, to be so close to her and bask in her comfort—it was a gift. One he hadn’t earned but would cherish nonetheless.

After nearly an hour, his dove’s fingers slowed and then finally stopped as she drifted off to sleep. He looked up, surprised. She never let him be so close when she slept. Whenever there was a door she could put between them, she did, and when there wasn’t, she would put as much space as she reasonably could between them. Always on the other side of the campfire, or tucked in a tree hollow only she could fit in. And even then, she’d stay awake until she physically couldn't anymore, heartbeat fast anxious the entire time.

He tried not to take it personally. He was a zombie, of course she was afraid of him suddenly going feral and attacking her while she slept. But the closer they grew, the more it bothered him.

So his dove finally trusting him enough to fall asleep, practically in his arms? He felt higher than a fucking cloud.

He laid his head back down, but continued to stare up at her, happy to watch her peacefully sleeping face and revel in her warmth.

Several hours passed before Lelia was visited by her usual nightmares.

Ghost could tell, because she began to twitch and whimper, calm expression replaced with one of fear and pain, brows drawn together and bottom lip wobbling. Nonsensical pleas escaped her, and tears began to stream down her face. He sat up straight, reaching out to cup her cheek with one hand, the other moving to hold her own. But the second his fingers touched her, Lelia screamed in pure terror, glassy eyes flying open but unseeing.

“Please!” She sobbed as Ghost instinctively pulled her closer to try and comfort her. “No! Stop! Stop!”

Immediately, he let go of her, hands hovering uselessly over her flailing limbs as she tried to fight off her imaginary attacker.

He went through his entire vocabulary of reassuring noises, from groans to grunts to coos, but she didn't seem to recognize any of it. Frustrated, and growing more panicked the longer Lelia continued to sob and beg, he tried to force his ruined mouth to same her name, over and over.

Lelia. Lelia. Lelia. Lelia. Lelia. Lelia.

All that came out was incomprehensible growls and gurgles, though he could feel his throat straining, the vocal chords fluttering like they did when he laughed. He kept trying.

“Llll— Lllleee— Lllluhhh—”

It was no use. His jaw was fucked even if he could manage to actually make the sounds. Her name was just too complicated.

But she was in pain. He could see it on her face. Whatever was happening to her in her dream was hurting her.

And Simon promised he would always protect her.

“Dddd— Ddddoooovveeee…”

The word was garbled and raspy, difficult to understand—but it was a word. The first word he’d spoken since turning. Since dying.

It was fitting, since he hadn’t truly felt alive again until he'd met her.

“Dddooovvee. Dddoovvee. Ddoovvee—” I’m here, my dove, I’m here, you’re safe now, I promise. “Dddove!”

Lelia gasped, her thrashing ceasing as her eyes cleared. She looked around the dark room, confused and still afraid—but when she recognized her zombie’s pale, reflective eyes, her face crumpled and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

“S-Simon,” she cried, whole body trembling as he pulled her close, one hand rubbing her back, the other petting her hair. “I dreamed— A-Andrew was— he was—”

Lelia’s voice cracked and she sobbed harder, remembering her nightmare—every sordid detail. And they all came pouring out.

“He w-was inside me,” she whimpered. “I w-was asleep and then— and then th-there was pain and I woke up and— and h-he was on top of me and— and—” she sucked in a shuddering breath, “and he— he c-covered my mouth so I c-couldn’t scream but— but I c-couldn’t breathe either and it h-hurt so badly, it always hurt so badly—”

Simon’s arms were impossibly tight around her, almost crushing her to his chest. Lelia didn’t mind. She wanted to be as close to him as physically possible—would have crawled inside his ribcage and nestled next to his unbeating heart, if she could have. She knew she would be safe there. Simon always kept her safe.

The growl he let out at her words was low and furious, but wounded, too. She sniffled, feeling guilty. He probably didn’t want to hear about what Andrew did to her… she was selfish for dumping it all on him.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to pull away, feeling ashamed. Simon didn't let her, cooing in her ear softly. And then, dragged out and mangled, he spoke.

“Dddddoooovvvveee…”

Lelia looked up at him in shock as her brain tried to parse what she’d just heard. Dove. A word, not just one of the deep, throaty noises he used to communicate.

“Did you— Oh my days, Simon! You just— you just spoke!” She yelled, her nightmare completely forgotten. She cradled Simon’s face in her small hands, smiling so widely it hurt. They were so close, chests pressed together as he held her in his lap. Close enough to kiss. “But… why did you say dove?”

Simon’s hands dragged up her sides till they reached her own face, and his cold, thick fingers gently traced each and every one of her features—the arch of her brows, the slope of her nose, the roundness of her cheeks, even the bow of her lips. She blushed deeply at that, heart stuttering in her chest, belly squirming and skin tingling where he’d touched her.

“Dddooovvee,” he repeated. Saliva pooled in his mouth and dripped down his chin. Then, even more carefully, and less understandable, “Lllleeehh— Llll— Llllluuuhhhh.”

Despite the garbled mix of vowels and consonants, she understood him—“Dove. Lelia.”—and it took her breath away.

“I’m Dove?” She asked, voice small but so very moved. Simon groaned affirmatively, fingertips pressed lightly against her cheeks. She smiled at him, expression soft and gooey as a marshmallow. “Is that what you call me in your head? Your dove?”

Simon’s cloudy eyes flickered away from hers, even as he nodded, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment. Lelia laughed, pure and sweet and joyful. Her hands still cupped his face, and she wiped away his drool with the sleeve of her jacket, smiling at him adoringly.

“Sometimes I call you my zombie,” she admitted, tracing the edges of his mask with her thumbs. She wanted so badly to take it off and see his face. But she wouldn’t. She wouldn't break his trust in her. “But mostly I just call you Simon. Like you asked me too.”

Simon’s eyes crinkled, and he closed the minuscule distance between them so their foreheads touched for a brief moment. A silent thanks.

Lelia stared into Simon’s cloudy eyes. She once again wondered what color they had been, before. She was so close to him, she almost thought she saw little glimpses of dark brown—but it had to be just the shadows playing tricks. It was nearly pitch black in the room, after all.

Suddenly, Lelia yawned, her nose bumping against the bottom of his mask. Simon quickly pulled back, arms snaking around her waist as he got to his feet, lifting her up and adjusting her so he was carrying her bridal style. Lelia let out a little eep of surprise, making Simon chuckle. She could feel the vibrations of it against her cheek where it rested on his chest, and she blushed at how nice it felt.

Simon brought her into the bedroom, carefully pulling back the blankets and then laying her down to tuck her in. Once he’d piled up as many blankets on her that he could find, he moved to leave, and Lelia’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his thick wrist.

“Stay?” She asked, voice small and hopeful. Simon froze, and Lelia tugged lightly on his arm. She had no hope of actually pulling him into bed with her, but she wanted him to know she was serious about her request.

Finally, Simon groaned quietly in agreement, and then silently got into bed next to her, laying down on top of the blanket. He kept several inches of space between them, and Lelia scooted over so she could lay on his chest. Her eyes fluttered shut, and though there was no soothing heartbeat under her ear or comfortable warmth emanating from Simon’s body, she felt safer than she had in a long time as she drifted off to sleep.

[anemicjellyfish]

Rough draft of Chapter 1 of the Andrealphus being into Stolas fic!

Below the cut, of course. Not ready for AO3 yet, will probably post it there when I'm almost done with every part of the story. Title is ready, but it's a fun secret for when I'm really finished with it!

This was a bit more serious than I originally intended; I might attempt a comedic version when I'm done with this. I stayed up way too late so I'm going to bed immediately after posting.

Info: Word Count 1,489. Not beta read. Wrote most of it on my phone. Probably has typos and incomplete sentences because I promised I'd have it out by tonight.

I'll catch all the typos, incomplete sentences, and other problems sometime tomorrow, hopefully. Sorry about any that I missed.

The burden of formality weighed down the party's atmosphere, stifling the already warm room. What could have been a lively evening was instead another game of choreographed interactions between all of Hell's most elite.

This was a game Andrealphus knew well. It was easy enough to initiate and maintain conversation with others, even those above his station. He had a lifetime of preparation for this. Ever since his sister’s arranged marriage, the two had undergone constant instruction in navigating the social hierarchy of Goetic demons. Perfection was the expectation, and Andrealphus always exceeded. 

Still, the Marquis found it dreadfully mundane. After over a dozen well-wishes to pass on to his sister and her husband, Andrealphus struggled to keep his annoyance in check.

With Stella now married off to the seldom seen Prince of the Ars Goetia, their family was now better off than almost any other. The social status alone would be enough to fuel any of his ambitions to fruition. The financial assets were a welcome addition, as well.

Andrealphus’ attention was drawn back to the conversation he placed himself in. Whichever distant cousin this was had roped him into a long story about duty and self-image, as though Andrealphus needed any education on either subject.

“Andrealphus, really,” the black-beaked raven scolded, “it is unbecoming of your position to be absent in conversation to your equal.”

“Not at all,” Andrealphus insisted, “I was simply ruminating on the meaning of your words. It was… really a captivating–” 

Fanfare erupted from the string quartet nearby. The ornate doors of the ballroom opened, revealing Prince Stolas and his new bride.

Oh, thank Satan, Andrealphus thought, a sigh of relief escaping from his chest.

A small butler imp announced their entry before closing the doors, once again sealing the air in the room. With Aamon no longer interested in correcting the perceived slight against him, Andrealphus was free to slip into the crowd. He exchanged his empty wine glass for a new one, taking his time to analyze the depth of the flavor as he observed the change in the party’s atmosphere.

Dozens of demons gathered around Stolas, congratulating him and his beautiful wife on their marriage. Elegant, yet stiff in his posture, the Prince thanked each one in turn.

Conversations grew louder as guests drank and began to enjoy themselves. A marriage such as this was a rare occasion for the Ars Goetia; a Prince securing the means of producing an heir to the royal line was cause to celebrate.

Andrealphus sipped his wine and reminded himself that that was what it was all for. His own future was as secure as his sister’s ability to reproduce… and her ability to not let her marriage erupt in flames.

He sighed into his glass, crystalizing the condensation on the rim into delicate patterns of ice. Stella’s beauty may have won her the coveted spot as Stolas’ bride, but her personality could be her downfall. If she could maintain her composure around Stolas, even in private, she would enjoy all the luxuries that come with her new position. As would Andrealphus.

The party continued on long into the night. Stolas seemed almost relieved when Stella removed herself from his side to entertain a group of enthusiastic relatives. Stolas moved through the groups of demons that had formed until he was leaning against a window near the back of the ballroom. Andrealpus took the opportunity to greet the Prince alone. He would have preferred his first meeting with his now brother-in-law to be a bit more private, but circumstances couldn’t be helped.

“Prince Stolas,” Andrealphus bowed slightly and rose, “I congratulate you on your marriage to my sister. I am Andrealphus.”

“Thank you, Andrealphus,” Stolas replied, his expression neutral, but amicable. There was a perfect, practiced poise in Stolas’ mannerisms that Andrealphus recognized. It was exactly as their interaction was supposed to go.

“It is an honor to meet you in person.” Andrealphus continued. “I believe Stella will make a lovely wife for you, your highness.”

Stolas looked out the window, the night almost enveloping the grounds outside the palace. His breathing slowed as he stared a while longer into the darkness.

“Do you think we could drop some of the formalities, Andrealphus?”

“My… apologies?” Andrealphus sputtered in surprise, nearly letting the glass slip out of his hand.

Stolas turned back to him. His lower eyes grew wide and he set his own glass of wine down on the windowsill. “No, no! Mine, actually.” He wrung his hands together before dropping them to his sides. “I seem to have lost track of my surroundings for a moment.”

Andrealphus studied Stolas more closely. The Prince’s heart-shaped face had been pale most of the night, but was now tinted a light pink. Whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment, Andrealphus wasn’t sure. Either way, he saw this as an opportunity to gain Stolas’ favor.

“Perhaps you could use some fresh air?” Andrealphus suggested. He motioned toward a set of glass doors leading to a balcony. Stolas nodded in response.

The night was warm, but a gentle breeze cooled the air. With the lights of the party now behind them, The Prince and the Marquis could now see the treetops tinted red by the moonlight. With the doors to the balcony now closed, the sounds of the party were more distant.

“I only meant,” Stolas continued, “that since we are now brothers by law, maybe some of the etiquette, some of the formal titles, could be set aside.” He sighed, covering his face with a hand. “I think today has worn me thin; I apologize for losing my composure.”

Andrealphus considered his options. There was a chance that he was being tested: that Stolas was feigning familiarity to gauge Andrealphus’ loyalty to his position. A very discreet power play, but without any initial rationale to back it up. Stolas should have no reason to suspect him of duplicity. 

As Stolas leaned on the railing overlooking the perfectly manicured gardens, Andrealphus didn’t see that type of cunning. 

“It’s understandable.” Andrealphus swirled his wine glass and stepped closer, leaning one elbow on the railing. “These parties, wonderful as they are, can be a bit… exhausting. Especially after a long day. And your day has been so much longer than mine, Stolas.”

Andrealphus didn’t have time to register any worry about foregoing Stolas’ title. Stolas relaxed instantly. With a wave of his hand, Stolas’ magic undulated before them. Several stars above them began to shine more brightly, first as pinpricks of light, then into glowing constellations. The sheer power of a Prince of the Ars Goetia brought Hell’s sky to life for a brief moment before it faded back to a dark red. 

“Today was written by the stars.” Stolas spoke without emotion. “This day, like every other, was prophesied before it ever began.”

Andrealphus stood in awe of the demon before him. Stolas had access to a cosmos of foretold events. The Marquis’ power paled in comparison.

Still, the new foundation between them was being formed tonight.

Andrealphus raised both arms, breathing out a breath of frost and snow. A fog covered the sky just above them; delicate snowflakes suspended themselves overhead, reflecting the lights of the party behind them. Nowhere near as bright or as powerful as the stars, but beautiful all the same.

“In case you ever read a prophecy you dislike,” Andrealphus joked.

Stolas’ expression softened.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, with a little hoot that could have been a laugh, “thank you.”

The party inside began to wind down. Some higher demons left early; lower members soon followed suit. The remainder of the guests were mostly close family to both Stolas and Stella.

“I believe I must make a final appearance before the end of the night.”

Andrealphus hummed. “Yes, social obligation and all. Not to mention, you still have your… well, the remainder of your wedding night to look forward to.”

Stolas’ shoulders shifted slightly downward, hardly noticeable in the dim light of the half moon.

“Yes,” Stolas’ voice was barely a whisper, “there is that.”

Andrealphus walked to the glass door, but paused when he grasped the handle. He wasn’t entirely certain on what he was seeing and hearing from Stolas. Saying anything could result in terrible, damning consequences. The Prince that had read the stars waited just behind him. He could open the door and return to the party immediately.

Or he could risk everything.

“Stolas,” Andrealphus hesitated, removing his hand from the doorknob, “if, for any reason, you desire my company after spending time with Stella, perhaps we could meet again?”

Stolas raised an eyebrow, eyeing Andrealphus with confusion, but not suspicion.

“Perhaps, I… could invite you over for tea sometime?”

Stolas blinked in surprise. He clasped his hands in front of himself. “I believe I would like that.” 

Oh, thank fucking Satan, Andrealphus breathed a sigh of relief.

[eventinelysplayground]

Hi 💖

Idk if your requests are open. But I was wondering what you thought about Theo and MC’s twins going into the the door (by accident) and seeing their parents when they were younger.

Like maybe teenagers?

But MC hasn’t met anyone yet. Maybe had a rough childhood, and Theo would be protecting Vincent.

And then it jumps to when MC had just gotten to the mansion and had only just met Theo.

Idk I was rereading your writing and I was thinking about it.

If your requests are not open pls let me know and I apologize.

Thank you,

💖💖💖

I already did a mini post about this but I have to say again I LOVED this overall idea!!

I am actually releasing this in 2 parts, solely because I saw the word count at 3/4 done and went omg I can't release something that long lol. The first part I will have up either later today or sometime tomorrow since it just needs a quick once over for spelling and editing.

Second part idk when it will come out but with being 3/4 done and wanting to finish it this week (I really need next week for kinktober fics) hopefully it won't be a long wait.

I hope you don't mind I didn't use the timeframes you suggested just the overall idea of them going through the door, and also continually giving poor Issac a heart attack 😆. Also I will tag you in both parts so you know they are out, have a great day/night!

PS: I am still working on that other idea, I just keep not writing what I think of down for it but I will get to it eventually.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

flash that angle, grind a smile

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!Actor!Reader

Writing Genre: story

Genres: fluff, pining, co-workers to friends to lovers

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: very brief discussion of poisoning & blood, it's my first time writing for Vil so hopefully he's not too out of character

Notes: I was listening to 'Sculptures of Anything Goes' by Arctic Monkeys and my mind started drifting to creating this fic -- so here it is! <3

Read it on ao3!

~~~

Silently sipping on your delightfully warm latte, you observed the scene being produced in front of you.

“And if the Grand Duke hears about this? What do you expect your fate to be then?” one of your co-stars voiced worriedly, trying to reason with the antagonist.

“My fate is of no concern to anyone but me.” Vil’s character Antoine glared at the man before continuing, “I’m sure there are plenty of cases for you to investigate in the city. Entertain yourself with one of them and move along now, Dorian… lest you find your destiny lying with His Highness.”

You fought back a chuckle, being mindful of the cameras still rolling.

Dorian seemed slightly dejected as he quietly left the Prince’s office – a physical foreshadowing of the character’s motives that were to be revealed later on in the series.

As the scene came to a close the floor manager called out, “And cut! Great work today everyone! Get a nice meal and a good rest – I look forward to seeing you all tomorrow!”

The formerly quiet set began bustling with various audio engineers, camera operators, runners, and assistants. Rising from your chair, you stretched before deciding to strike up a conversation with Dorian’s actor, Killian.

“Hi, Kil! Your performance was fabulous today!”

“Mine? We should be talking about yours! The dinner scene was phenomenal! The way you portray such a deceiving Marchioness is almost frightful.” he finished with a wink. Your bubbly conversation with your co-star continued for approximately fifteen minutes until you decided to bid him farewell.

—

After changing back into your everyday clothes and having your hair and makeup undone, you felt content to return to the trailer you would continue to call home for the weekend. As you finished gathering your things, you heard your favorite voice speak from behind you.

“Good evening, Y/n. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I would like to discuss our scenes for tomorrow’s filming.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Vil. Why don’t we talk in my trailer over salad?”

He looked contemplative for a moment before agreeing.

—

You had always held respect for Vil’s love of his craft, and seeing how dedicated he was to ensuring both his and your prime performances began turning that respect into admiration. Working on the newest season of Twisted Wonderland’s most popular historical drama for the last few months had brought you closer, and you felt yourself drifting nearer and nearer to the sea of love. It was always hard to decipher the blond’s feelings due to his consistent air of professionalism, and although sometimes it was irksome, at the end of the day it was yet another aspect of him to appreciate.

“Y/n? What’s got you so distracted?”

Your body jolted to attention as you focused back on your conversation, quickly sipping on a glass of lemonade you had gotten after dinner.

“Nothing, I apologize.” you laughed off lightly, “Please, continue.”

He eyed you with suspicion and knowing before clearing his throat.

“Anyways, as you know Antoine’s plan will be accelerating to prepare for the next season after the finale tomorrow, and the masquerade scene we will be filming will run the longest. Since our characters are slowly blossoming into each other’s love interests, I think the scenes of them dancing together will be the most important to master, especially since they represent the turning point in their relationship."

You nodded along to his words before asking, “Should we go over the dance one more time?”

“I would say that we could do it now, but unfortunately there is not enough space in here. We can arrive at the set earlier to rehearse, however.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Vil checked his watch before sighing, “As much as I wish to continue our meeting, I must prioritize my schedule. Tomorrow will be important, and I want to feel and look my best. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be off now. Have a great night, Y/n.”

You wished him a good night as well, before starting your own routine.

–

A huff exited the actor’s lips as he braided his hair – a pointless action as hair and makeup would style it accordingly – but alas his frazzled thoughts needed a calming activity. His brain continued pestering him by replaying your conversation last night. He knew why you were distracted, and the feelings behind it are what made him hesitate to take your offer. But upon further reflection both last night and this morning, he found that he was not entirely averse to the idea. You had become casual friends during the long period of filming, and he had to admit to himself that there were many things about you he found appealing.

A knock on his door broke him out of his thoughts.

He tied off the braid and adjusted his hair before rising from his vanity to answer it. Who else stood there but the single person who occupied his mind as of late.

“I figured now would be the perfect time to practice since it’s still early enough for the set to be empty. I also brought this for you,” you spoke, handing him a simple hot lidded cup. “It’s just green tea, as I thought that would be more your preference in comparison to coffee.”

“You would be correct.” he replied.

“Great! Now let’s go master these waltzes.” you smiled brightly, turning to the large building that was home to your ballroom.

—

The Grand Duke fell to his knees in his chambers. His muscles shook heavily and his heart tightened. Blood seeped from the corners of his lips.

A cut back to the masquerade.

When a passerby couple made eye contact with Antoine and nodded, you knew the plan was fulfilled.

The Prince chuckled as he leaned down to your ear and whispered, “Just what have you done, Marchioness?”

Your character smirked before replying, “I believe I should be asking you that question. After all, you have a reputation for being a prodigy in poisons.”

He coyly retorted, “Hm. Is that so?”

You made knowing eye contact while you continued your dance. Around and around the ballroom you spun, circling the Prince’s figure and weaving through his arms. When word of the ruler’s death made it to the grand party, the guests entered a frenzy.

The Prince and the Marchioness however, continued spinning about the floor.

“And cut!” the floor manager yelled.

You finished off your spin before steadying yourself.

Soon claps and cheers echoed across the extras, cast, and crew in celebration of the last day of filming. It was a bittersweet feeling, but knowing that you would be coming back next year helped lift the weight off of your heart.

The director made an announcement about a special event being hosted for every member of the cast, along with the stars of a new sci-fi series and an up-and-coming adaptation of a popular fantasy novel. It was to be hosted at one of Pyroxene’s most famous museums – L’histoire de la création.

Excitement bubbled around the room and as it fizzled out it was replaced by a contentedness over the crowd. After bidding your co-stars farewell, you went to your assigned room to change out of costume and put on a knitted sweater and trousers. You cleaned your face and applied simple skin care products before choosing to sit on your sofa and bask in your remaining time on the set with a book about the show’s time period.

About twenty minutes later a knock rapped on your door and you perked up upon hearing it.

Marking your place in the book, you approached and answered the door.

“Oh, hello, Vil.”

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You opened the door wider and stepped to the side, allowing him to enter.

For being so notoriously put together, the actor carried traces of nervousness in his gaze.

"What did you need?" you queried.

"Not much, I simply had a parting gift for you."

Surprise blossomed on your face before you spoke, “It doesn’t seem like you to give out gifts to just anyone.”

He let out a sound somewhere between a huff and a laugh, “You’re not just anyone.”

Your heart jumped – what exactly did he mean by that?

Taking the gift with a slightly awkward thank you and opening the lavender-colored box, you were greeted by a shimmering gold bracelet. A heart embedded between daggers sat in the center, with two rows of amethyst vines leading to a clasp. It was dazzling, and seemed to carry the very essence of Vil.

“I… it’s beautiful, thank you, Vil.”

“You’re welcome, Y/n. I look forward to seeing you wear it.”

—

Completing the finishing touches on his outfit, Vil stepped gracefully into the night and to his awaiting chauffeur.

“Good evening, Francis.” he spoke, watching as the man opened his door.

“A lovely eve to you too, Mr. Schoenheit.” he replied, allowing the blond to step into the vehicle.

After Francis closed the door, the actor felt a peculiar mixture of nervousness and excitement begin bubbling inside of him. He never felt such a way at the prospect of attending events – they were simply another aspect of his work and another way for him to flaunt his efforts and attributes.

“To L’histoire de la création, correct?” his chauffeur questioned.

“Yes.” was his only reply.

When his eyes drifted from the rear view mirror and arrived at his reflection in the window, he observed his amethyst and gold earrings and came to a somewhat shocking conclusion.

He was looking forward to seeing you again – his heart was racing in fact.

It had been a month since you had last seen each other and he was ready to dismiss his feelings and get back to his former routine. But now, as old emotions dredged up, he had no choice but to reflect before coming face to face with you once more.

—

“We have arrived, sir.” the chauffeur spoke.

“Thank you, Francis.” Vil said, waiting for his door to be opened.

Reporters and the paparazzi stood along the carpet leading to the museum, and as soon as the model stepped out of the car, all of the flashing lights turned to him.

His fashion for the night consisted of his signature purple in the form of a button down, layered underneath a maroon vest with gold details. His black trousers matched with the onyx blazer he wore which ended after his torso in the front, and continued to lightly trail on the floor behind him. The coat held golden embroidery, matching with the gold jewelry he wore and the details on his sleek black heeled boots. To top it all off, his hair was tied into a braided bun with two curled stands left to frame his face.

Needless to say that he was sure to be going viral by the end of the night.

After traversing the media show with class, he finally entered the venue. Witnessing the lovely stone architecture embellished in gold after so many years made him feel a sense of nostalgia. Fellow actors and actresses cavorted across the space, looking at paintings, statues, and antiques from throughout Pyroxene’s history. A waiter came by carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres, but the model waited patiently for one to bring drinks.

“Pleasure seeing you here.” you voiced from behind him.

Vil turned and gazed upon you for the first time in thirty days. Your outfit unknowingly complimented his, and he immediately felt that rumors would be circling. A raven and violet ensemble highlighted with gold – most notably the bracelet he gifted you on the last day of filming.

“I see you’re wearing my gift tonight.” he spoke mellowly, trying to keep a somewhat low-profile among the crowd.

“I’ve worn it everyday since you gave it to me.” you whispered.

For once, Vil Schoenheit was left speechless.

Trying to recover quickly he responded and lightly teased, “It must be timeworn by now. Would you like a new one?”

You chuckled before replying, “No. What I would really like is you.”

Did… you mean what he suspected you to?

“I’ve had a lot of time to look at what exactly I feel towards you. How exactly to handle it. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I should not repress these feelings just because of my public image. While you may not feel the same way, I at least wanted you to be aware.”

You most certainly did, it seems.

He took a few moments to ponder what to say. You waited patiently, visibly anxious to hear his thoughts.

“I must admit, Y/n, that what I feel for you is the same.”

You started beaming at his admission.

“I do wish however, that we keep this relationship private for the time being. Our images require great care and I would like for this to be something that is ours – not the world’s.”

“I accept your terms, Schoenheit.” you voiced playfully.

Throughout the rest of the eventide you would sneakily link your pinky in his, cast loving and frisky glances at each other from across the room, and meet to whisper in front of the renowned art.

It seemed that Vil was incorrect in his assumption, however, as the next day only photos and articles documenting his attendance to the event circled. He laughed lightly – it seemed that at the end of the day, you truly were some of the best actors.

[beaker1636]

Ryan Car Accident Angst

a/n: I am not 100% sure what to title this so it is untitled. I have wanted to do a angsty car accident fic for awhile so when @tearfallpixie tagged me in this post I knew what I wanted to do with it and this is where my mind went. I’m not the best at angsty stuff so I apologize if this isn’t my best work but I didn’t think it was too bad for my first real crack at angsty stuff.

P.S. sorry if the formatting is wonky, I had to upload this via mobile instead of my laptop because my laptop was being a jerk 😂 also this is unedited like usual so sorry for any typos!

“Hey Ry, is y/n joining us for our celebration dinner tonight? I never asked, I know all the other girlfriends are going to join us,” Chris asks Ryan, curious. You and Ryan have been together for a few months now but he has not brought you around for anyone to meet you yet, everyone is interested in getting to know you.

“Yeah, I am picking her up later from work and we will meet you all at the restaurant. She has been nervous about meeting everyone which is why I haven’t brought her around quite yet,” Ryan smiles when he thinks of you, he is really looking forward to getting to introduce you to his second family tonight. If he had it his way he would have sooner but you were nervous about it, worried that being the boring school teacher you didn’t think that you would fit in with any of them. While he has reassured you otherwise your anxieties just have not left, in fact you are really nervous about this tonight.

“I didn’t think about it being Friday, at least it's the end of the week and she’ll be off for a few days.” Chris says, trying to sound supportive towards his friend.

“Yeah, and it’s fall break next week so they don’t go back until Thursday so we have almost a full week together, we talked about taking a road trip somewhere starting tomorrow for a few days. That way we can have alone time before the next tour hits.”

“I’m going to head out to go shower before we all meet up, I will see you tonight Ryan,” Chris says before leaving his friends house, they can continue to work on the new song tomorrow.

Ryan decides to go and take a shower himself before he comes to get you, wanting to refresh and have a clear mind when he sees you, excited that you are finally going to join him and meet the guys tonight.

Stepping out of the shower he gets dressed and then gets in his car, ready to make the drive to your school and pick you up. There is still time before you guys are all due at the restaurant but that doesn’t bother either of you, he already knew you planned to change and freshen yourself up after he got you, that you wanted to go back to your apartment before you went to see everyone.

He messages you that he has arrived and waits until he sees you pop outside of the school, making your way over to him with a smile with your bag.

When you get in his car you lean over the center armrest to give him a quick kiss, lingering in the moment before pulling away to put on your seatbelt when he starts to make the drive to your place.

“How was your day, hopefully the kids were easier on you today than yesterday,” he asks you as he softly grabs your hand with his, watching the road.

“It was, the kids were all pretty good today. Honestly for a Friday it wasn’t half bad, how was your day? Did you and Chris finish the song you were working on?” you ask, smiling at him. You loved watching him when he was focused on something, whether it be driving or watching a show with you, whatever it is he is paying attention to.

“We did not, for some reason there is something that just isn’t clicking. We decided to just give up and call it a day as we both were getting really frustrated, sometimes it's best just to call it a day,” you can see that he was a little frustrated while talking about it so you rub the back of his hand with your thumb hoping that he finds comfort in the touch.

“I understand that, at least we get a few days to relax and spend time together after tonight, I think that we both need this,” you answer him softly, hoping he is as excited as you are about having this time together.

He pulls into your apartment parking lot, grabbing your hand as you both make your way into the building. He takes a seat on your couch while you change out of your teacher's clothing into a decent pair of jeans and a nice tank top, touching up your hair and makeup before going back out and sitting next to Ryan, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for agreeing to go tonight with me y/n. I know that it makes you nervous but everyone will love you, you’re going to fit in well.” he says, lightly rubbing his hand on your bare arm as you sit there quietly.

“I’d be lying if I said I am not anxious but I have to eventually right?” you ask him softly, sighing to yourself. “We should probably leave Ry.”

“Yeah, I was just enjoying the moment. Let’s head out.”

You both make your way back to his car so that you can start your way to the restaurant to meet up with everyone, not completely sure what you are currently thinking. As if Ryan can sense your hesitation he grabs your hand the second you are in your seat and turns to look at you.

“Seriously, don’t worry about tonight. It is going to be just fine, I promise. If you get too uncomfortable then we can leave.” He says, now holding your face with a hand so that he can make you look at him. You nod, not really having anything to say back.

Ryan pulls onto the road, starting his drive while you sit there quietly, watching out your window lost in your thoughts, not really paying much attention to anything, choosing to just think despite the fact that might not be the best thing for you to be doing.

Before either of you can process what is happening another car runs a red light, slamming into your side of the car, your door crumpling inwards, the window breaking covering you in glass as your head slams into the door making you black out almost instantly from the impact.

Ryan slams into his door from the force of the other car, feeling the airbag hitting him hard, leaving him out of breath momentarily as he registers what happens. He immediately looks over at you, panic and grief hitting him when he sees how bad of shape you are in. Trying to undo his seatbelt so he can get to you all he can do is grab your arm, desperate to try and get your attention, try to get you to wake up despite the fact part of him knows that you are too injured to do so, losing a lot of blood from a couple of your wounds.

He sobs, letting out a shaky breath, “I can’t lose you, please. I love you y/n, hang on. I can see lights coming down the road, they’re going to help you.”

When the paramedics arrived he wound up separated from you as they extracted you from the vehicle, being the most injured you were the first one to be transported out in an ambulance, the other driver and Ryan we’re next as neither was injured quite as badly as you were.

At the hospital they bandaged Ryan up, he had a couple broken ribs and minor whiplash but nothing that overly bad minus the severe bruising where the seatbelt held him in his seat. He refused to leave, he wasn’t completely sure what happened to you, they never told him other than that you had to be rushed back into emergency surgery. They wouldn’t tell him much as he isn’t family, so he is waiting for your parents to answer the call and to give the doctors permission to tell him what is happening because they live out of state.

He was trying his best not to break down and cry but it was becoming harder and harder the more time passed, he can’t believe that this happened when everything was supposed to be so great. He was going to tell you he loved you on your trip, the two of you had plans and he finally got to introduce you to his second family and this had to happen.

He feels a hand settle on his shoulder and looks up to see Rick looking at him concerned, Rick immediately pulling the taller man into a hug not really caring at this point who saw, just wanting to comfort his friend. Ryan finally broke down in the hug, not noticing that the rest of his friends and their girlfriends had now joined him in the waiting room.

“Have you heard anything yet?” Rick asks him softly when Ryan pulls away from the hug.

“Not yet, they said they can’t tell me anything unless her family okays it when they call because I am not family. All I know is she is in emergency surgery, but I have no clue what for or anything.” Ryan answers, drawing in a shaky breath and looking at everyone who has shown up in the waiting room. “She suffered a lot worse than myself or the other driver, they told me it was an idiot teen who was texting.”

“I’m sure she will be okay, she’s at the best place that she could be right now.” Chris says giving his friend a small smile as they all take a seat with him, wanting to support him as much as they can.

A few hours later a nurse comes out, looking around the room at everyone asking for Mr. Sitkowski. Ryan stands up and makes his way over to where the nurse was standing, eager to find out anything that he can.

“We got permission from Ms. y/l/n parents to update you and let you see her. She is out of surgery, she wound up breaking her neck. We did a surgery to repair it the best we can, she could potentially be paralyzed but we won’t know that until she is awake and we can do further assessments. She did need stitches in several cuts in her face and head, and has severe bruising all over. But, she is alive. If you would like to, you can go back to her room, we can get you a blanket and you can stay as long as you want. Normally that is reserved for family but we have permission for you to stay with her in her room.”

He lets everyone know what he was just told, them all going home for the night, before walking back with the nurse, quickly moving a chair close to your bed so that he can sit next to you and grab your hand. He wants to kiss your forehead, wake you up and let you know that he is there but he knows that he can't. All he wants is to give you what little form of comfort that he can while you are laying there, still unconscious.

“It will likely be several hours before she is awake. Would you like a blanket so you can sleep in the chair?” A nurse asks him sympathetically.

He nods, and gladly accepts the drink she hands him and the blanket before she shuts the lights off and he doses out.

He notices a little movement which quickly wakes him up several hours later, looking over at you. He quickly smiles when he notices that your eyes are fluttering open, finally having the reassurance that everything will ultimately be okay. He doesn’t care if you wind up paralyzed, if you can’t walk, all that he cares about is that you are awake and alive. Tears falling down his face in relief when you look up at him and you squeeze his hand lightly.

“You have no clue how happy I am you are awake y/n. I have been worried sick all night about you,” he says gently, moving to kiss your forehead as he looks at you with what you can only describe as love in his eyes.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily…” you trail off slightly, squeezing the hand that is currently holding yours.

He calls your nurse down so that they can do what they need to do, the surgeon himself coming in to do some tests and relaying the good news that you were able to wiggle your toes and move, so the paralysis risk is gone. When they finish all the tests and leave your room you look over at Ryan, wanting to tell him something you found really important.

“I heard you, you told me that you loved me,” you say softly, blushing as you glance at him.

“Yes,” he responds back, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“While you thought I was dying in your arms, in front of you,” you say even softer, almost whispering when you make eye contact with him, while Ryan tries to figure out where you are going with this.

“Yes, I thought I was going to lose you,” he responds, reaching to brush some hair out of your face where it hung. Trying to distract himself slightly while he waits to hear what you have to say next.

“Well, I’m still alive. Care to repeat that?” You ask, this time a bit more bold as you look at him, begging him to do so.

“I love you y/n. The realization hit me when we were stuck in that car and I thought I was losing you. I’m sorry it took me almost losing you to realize that,” he says, kissing your forehead softly, not wanting to accidentally hurt you somehow as you laid in the bed looking uncomfortable.

“I love you too Ry, I wanted you to say it so I could say it back,” you say gently, knowing that while you have a long road ahead that he is going to walk every step with you. That he will help you with everything that you need, that he will love you and comfort you through this, and at that moment you knew that you could never let him go. You two made it through this, you can make it through the recovery and anything else that you face in the future if you make it through this and you know that you can with him by your side.

[unvalley]

Okay so it’s past 11pm and i’ve got work tomorrow morning and there’s no way i can finish my gruvia day fic today :( but i’ll try my best to continue working on it and hopefully finish it sometime next week!

[allylikethecat]

i just got in to reading your fics and omg can i just say (sometimes) hurt so good!! i’d love to see how you’d interpret fictional george comforting fictional matty once matty recovers more and they talk things through and have a productive conversation, no pressure though! keep up the good work 😁😁

Thank you so much for reading! I'm so happy to hear that you have enjoyed my fics! (Sometimes) in particular is my precious baby, it was hard to write, but I was (and still am) extremely happy with and proud of the finished product. I have toyed around with the idea of writing either a sequel or a companion fic and exploring what a physical and mental recovery would look like. I have even gone as far as outlining it and adding a few paragraphs here and there to the notes app on my phone (where all my fics start their lives lol) however at this time finishing it is not on the top of my metaphorical "to write" list. I'm not saying I'll never write a sequel or companion to it, just that if I do it's not going to be anytime soon. I'm so glad that you enjoyed it though, especially enough to reach out about a companion. 😊 As I said, it is a piece I am proud of, and I am happy to see that it resonates with others and that they are enjoying it despite the heavy subject matter. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day and continue to enjoy my other works! I will (hopefully) have the next chapter of the A&E fic up tomorrow!

❤️Ally

[thesupernaturalhouse]

So I have been dealing with uh- STUFF, to say the least- and I've been surprised busy with school and uh, persanol issues and stuff. If you ij the discord I'm in you know-

Mama , the fic was supposed to be updated on the 15th, but...stuff- so I'll try and get it out tomorrow, but it might not come out on time...

As for my TOH fic, I am going to finish it. I promise. I am NOT going to leave it unfinished, but....don't expect consistent updates, I'll hopefully get one out sometime next month, o do wanna continue it and all that but I'm not gonna force myself to write it. I know a lot of you guys love it, and I'm happy about that, but I gotta slowly build back up to my writing pace with it. I'll finish the 4th part of ep2s3 next month or the month after and s3ep3 we'll be split up in parts that's ill hopefully get out ever month or so idk

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOO ALL GOOD but also no it’s not your fault I type out my asks in my notes first but that’s literally THE. ONLY. ONE. that is somehow nowhere in my files or records maybe I deleted it for storage or sth??? I have no idea as long as you have it somewhere it’s all good LMFAO I’m just disorganized the goose chase was my fault and mainly me like flipping through my notes HAHAHA….also oooo queue link would be interesting but I don’t think it’s like insanely necessary….i never got the impression it was being ignored I just thought that was how the system worked (which I guess it is LOL) where you’d respond with the fic if you ended up choosing to write sooooo

Guys Mira not a grassless anime fan proven!! /j LMAOAOA enjoy your shower (???) and take your time responding LOL

-Karasu anon

LMAOO if you ever want screenshots for your records lmk HAHA hopefully i will get to your requests sometime soon though!! just have to finish bfb…update hollyhock…do my hiori reqs from my event…AND THEN I WILL GET TO YOU 🫡 as long as i don’t get more random ideas in the meantime 😭😭😭💔💔💔

see that’s what i think most people do but sometimes people include sweet little “omg mira ily” messages in their reqs and i don’t want them to think idc abt them 😓 at the same time though i like the mystique of no one knowing what i’m going to drop next (besides you ofc) FJFNSKSL like i want to keep my followers on my toes 👹 plus i don’t want people to start being like “when are you going to answer so and so request” so i think for now i’ll continue as i have been but if it becomes a thing in the future i’ll think of making a queue post and just answering reqs as they come!!

HSHAH MIRA SHOWERS AND DOES SKINCARE/HAIRCARE CANON!! i was actually supposed to get my hair done today but the salon lost power (as did we but it’s back now) so i took advantage of my unstyled hair to do a last shave and exfoliate before vacation 😭 i rescheduled my appt so it’s tomorrow but in order to have it done before we left it had to be with a diff stylist who i’ve not gone to before 😟 hoping and praying it turns out okay because if not i’m cooked

[pool-floatie]

Yo

just an update;

I am alive ! :D👍

I was struck down by a great and terrible plague....

(I was severely dehydrated (booo hydrate yourself!!!) and lost breathing function for a sec, and since having the sinuses of a senior Pug isnt exactly great for.... Anything....I have been not writing!!)

So I have a 90% finished chapter collecting dust in my drafts, a few more drawings of that lil alien Universe, and several hundred sick fic ideas, so we shall have content again soon!

I was literally going to finish the chapter the D a y I got sick, like the worst timing ever, hell i told a friend about it and then just... d i d n t p o s t :')

So i will be back on my regularly scheduled bullshit sometime this week, perhaps tomorrow, and we will be starting with a new chapter of le Vampire saga (i have name ideas i swear) reminder that this chapter will contain v o r e, its not required to read if you just want to continue the story after, totally fine, it continues quite smoothly~

Ill have some more art hopefully explaining more of the lil Alien universe i got goin' on and probably a short write up to go along with it!

I shall be back soon, survive until then (chucks bread at u )

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 18: First Vacation Day

Today, I did some writing, some reading, and some resting, which is a pretty good vacation day, and in a sense more ‘productive’ than I usually expect from a first day off. I had an idea at one point I’d go for a walk but it was really windy and unpleasant out and I think at some point it rained, so that wasn’t plausible, which is honestly okay. The skin on my hands is really dry but I have some nice lotions I can just continuously apply to it and that feels nice.

I wrote another scene in the Time Loop fic. I have been working on this for so long, but also so slowly for a pretty big chunk of time, and stuck within these last ten scenes for so long, that I just feel like I am not making any progress and never will. I know objectively I am, but I just keep looking at the rest of the outline and feeing like I can’t do anything but chip away at it and it never gets better. Of course, this is because I haven’t been chipping away at it, I’ve been staring at it, which is not how progress is made. It doesn’t help that it’s a time loop so I’ve written functionally the same scene so many times and still have some more repeats to go. I hope the looped scenes don’t read as similar as they feel to write. But also that each repeat still makes sense—sometimes I feel like I’m cutting corners to avoid being repetitive and what I’ve ended up with is a sort of vague, soup-y thing that doesn’t make any sense outside of my own mind.

I am really proud of this fic (this novel! It surpassed 50k today) but I’m also so ready to be done. That’s why I’m trying really hard to push to be finished with the draft by the end of this vacation, because I just need it to stop hanging over me. I think I like what I got down today—still a little too close to it to tell—and tomorrow I’m writing a long and repetitive scene, which I’m not really looking forward to but… again, I’m looking forward to getting it off the list. After that, only one more scene in Chapter Four, and then it’s on to the final Chapter Five.

I still don’t really feel at all in the Christmas spirit so I haven’t been taking any time off to do holiday ficlets or anything like that. It’s not off the table but if I can only write one thing in a day, I’d rather it be more of the Time Loop story.

Anyway, this is mostly just anxiety spiral but that’s what’s on my mind right now! I gotta get to sleep so I can hopefully do some more writing tomorrow.

[sundrop-writes]

Update for Sept. 26th, 2024:

I am gonna continue working on The Way You Miss Me!

Like I said yesterday, the fic is now around 10,500 words, and my goal for each day is to write 2k words until it's finished. So I want to get the fic to around 12k or a bit more before stopping today. I expect to get halfway through the smut scene, but if I can get a bit farther and write more than 2k, then that would be awesome.

I think with the full smut scene and the conclusion, the first draft of the fic should be between 15k-16k. So Hopefully if I write a bit more than I want to today, it will be finished sometime tomorrow. Idk. I'm just gonna get to work and enjoy the process

(I decided that as long as I'm working on the same fic I'm gonna keep the updates on the same reblog chain? Idk - maybe I'll change this format later.)

Update for Sept. 25th, 2024*:

I do try to update the 'coming soon' section of my pinned regularly, but in case you haven't checked that out -

I have been working to finish The Way You Miss Me (titled after a song by All Time Low) - a Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Exes to Lovers fic where Fred and Reader break up when Fred leaves with George to open the shop in Diagon Alley, and then Reader is called to help with the Seven Potters mission - but she has a terrible fear of heights, to flying on the back of Fred's broom make things terrifying and complicated for her.

I am 8,600 words into a fic I thought would be 10k overall, but I think it's gonna end up being 15k? And my goal for today is to get the fic to at least 10k before quitting for the day. So I am like - a little bit more than halfway done with the first draft.

I think I should have it first draft finished by Sunday or Monday of this upcoming week, writing 1k or 2k a day and not pushing myself to work too hard. And then I'll probably run a poll to decide between some other Harry Potter related ideas and edit it while that poll is running! So I think this fic could be posted right at the beginning of October (this September has felt scarily short omg).

If you want to be notified when this fic is posted, you can sign up for my Harry Potter taglist here, just make sure that you read my taglist rules first!! And if you are new to my blog and want something to read in the meantime, then check out my Harry Potter Masterlist

*Decided I should put the date on these things because a lot of people don't have the dashboard timestamps turned on, and I don't want somebody to randomly discover a post from months ago or years ago and think that it is still relevant to what I'm working on now if it's a lost WIP or even something I already finished - if it is something I already finished, and somebody randomly goes back to like the post, I will try to go back and add a link to the finished fic. But let us all have common sense, and if the post is dated from a long ass time ago, and the fic with this description is not on my masterlist already, either send me a kind message about it asking if I posted it or realize that it just never got done and never got posted, thank you.

[hanasaku-shijin]

I got too excited about this idea to wait and I just churned out 5 pages in 30 minutes AHAHA

[saintobio]

will respond to remaining 80+ asks here tomorrow bc i’ll be busy all day with work and i’ll be allotting two days to write chapter 17 which i can hopefully post by friday!

after that, no updates will be guaranteed every fri or sat anymore since entitled readers think it’s the end of the world if i don’t post a chapter on time when my work ethic has been consistent since day one. but from now on, i’ll post an update whenever i want and whenever it’s convenient for me. what i can only guarantee is that sn chapters will not be posted later than two weeks. depending on the word count, it can take me between 5-12 days to finish. i always reblog the last chapter whenever it’s update day so you’ll know when i’ll post.

i have written a total of 162k words for sincerely not thus far and that took a huge chunk of my personal time so i hope u guys can understand that sometimes i wanna step out and enjoy myself, too. it’s only recently that i was able to catch up with all the manhwa/fics that i’ve been dying to read and i think i deserve to have this time for myself after working so hard every week to deliver 10k+ chapters. if you don’t respect me as a writer, and more so as a human being, save your time and unfollow. i owe you nothing.

however, to those who have shown me endless support and are always very understanding, please know that you guys are the reason why i strive hard to continue writing on this blog. your messages don’t go unnoticed and i appreciate every single one of you <3 stay safe and take care, everyone! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Like a Dream (preview)

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @goddess-aelin!! It’s Yulemas Swap time :) Unfortunately I’m sick right now so the time I’d set aside yesterday to finish everything up turned into resting time, so I’m giving you a preview today and a promise of the full fic within the next few days! I debated rushing the rest of it out today but I wanted to do a good job for you so hopefully this is okay. Have a lovely Yulemas ❤️

———

“I’m sure you’ve wondering been wondering what this is about.”

Rowan shifted uncomfortably. Lorcan, his boss, had requested his presence in his office several hours ago, and the day had passed with relatively little worry.

Even upon seeing Aelin Galathynius, someone whom he very much did not want to be in the same room as, waiting in Lorcan’s office as well, he hadn’t felt concern. It was probably just an update to policy or something similar. Hell, maybe the coffee machine had broken and Lorcan wanted them to inform their departments.

But then Lorcan had greeted them, and asked them to sit, and stated that he knew they’d been curious about the topic of this summons.

And a pit of anxiety had opened in Rowan’s stomach.

Lorcan Salvaterre was not a man to make small talk. He didn’t wait for others, he didn’t bother with light conversation, and he wasn’t friendly.

Which meant he was about to tell Rowan and Aelin something that they wouldn’t like, and not a small thing like they’d have to coordinate a client together or share the break room sometimes, because Lorcan had no trouble breaking bad news. Something worse, something bad enough to have the bluntest man Rowan knew stalling to conversation.

Rowan took a deep breath and said, “What is it?” He didn’t dare look to Aelin beside him.

Lorcan leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desk. “You both know of Dorian Havilliard.”

Of course they did. He was one of the biggest names in romance writing in the country. Their publishing house had been trying to get him to switch over from Hamel Inc. for years, but they’d had no luck.

“Yes,” Aelin said, and Rowan jolted at the sound of her voice. He finally risked a glance and was met with startling blue eyes rimmed in gold.

Rowan looked away.

“Well, as you know, Terrasen Publishing has been working on him for years.”

Rowan’s fingers tapped against his thigh impatiently as Lorcan restated what he already knew.

“We’ve finally convinced him to discuss the possibility of switching over.”

Considering the meeting, Rowan was hardly surprised. It also made sense for the two of them to be here; Rowan was head of the editorial department and Aelin was his counterpart in publishing. Together, they represented most of the publishing house and were often paired together when it came to potential clients.

It was the easy explanation for this meeting that had Rowan on edge. This didn’t make clear Lorcan’s apprehension.

“And what do we need to do?” Rowan asked cautiously.

Lorcan sighed. “Mr. Havilliard is working on his next book. He predicts the first draft will be finished soon; he’s using his Yulemas vacation to get it completed. And he doesn’t want any delay on the editing process, which means if we haven’t convinced him to switch contracts by the end of his vacation, he’ll remain a part of Hamel Inc.”

A sinking feeling formed in Rowan’s gut.

“He’s leaving for his vacation tomorrow,” Lorcan continued, “and even if we could have managed a short meeting before then, he needs more time with us to discuss logistics and a contract for him. He needs time to see everything we have to offer.”

“I’m sure he’d be open to discussing it over Zoom or even email,” Aelin suggested, and from the waver to her voice Rowan guessed she’d caught on as well.

“Mr. Havilliard is traveling to a resort in the mountains for his vacation, where there will be no cell service. He says the lack of distraction helps him concentrate. He graciously offered two fully paid tickets for any of my employees who would like to join him. You two will be traveling with Mr. Havilliard on his Yulemas trip. You leave first thing in the morning.”

Silence washed over the office as the pair of them took everything in. Rowan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I don’t recall expressing my desire to join him,” Aelin protested.

“Me neither,” Rowan managed.

Lorcan sighed once more. “Look, let’s face it. You two aren’t going home to your families for Yulemas and you don’t have any significant others to celebrate with. Everyone else, including myself, is not completely void of a social life and has plans for the holidays. You two are lonely as shit and I’m taking advantage of that.”

Aelin’s mouth had dropped open at some point during that little spiel but Rowan was used to Lorcan’s blunt transparency. He was honestly relieved that Lorcan had given up on trying to break it to them slowly. He liked the man, even—if he could manage to overlook the fact that he was being asked to spend his holidays on a work trip with his least favorite coworker.

Okay, maybe he didn’t like Lorcan so much after all.

“You can’t just,” Aelin spluttered, “I, my vacation, it’s my time off, you can’t…”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Galathynius, but this was his only offer and we’re in no position to deny him. If it helps, Mr. Havilliard alloted only a certain amount of time to meet with you as he wants most of the time to write his novel. And as I mentioned, he paid for the tickets and everything else that comes along with them. You’ll be spending most of your Yulemas holiday in a high-end resort doing whatever the hell you like. I’d say it’s a step up from whatever you were planning to do instead.”

Rowan leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Surely not both of us need to go.”

Lorcan glared at him. “Please explain to me the publishing process that Mr. Havilliard will be subject to.”

Rowan just blinked at him.

Lorcan turned to Aelin. “And do you know anything about the editing process?”

“You just… do grammar checks and stuff.”

Rowan cringed at the crass oversimplification of his job.

Facing both of them now, Lorcan said, “He needs every specific detail of every process. Neither of you can do that on your own. Both of you are going. That’s final. Now go home. I’m giving you the rest of the day off to pack, and I’ll email you the information of where you need to go tomorrow morning and at what time. Are we clear?”

Aelin nodded mutely. Rowan was pretty sure he felt himself do the same.

He lived in hell.

First he’d been transferred to a different publishing location six months ago as part of a promotion, only to find an enemy on the very first day. He’d smiled at her and was met with uncalled for distain and malice. The months had passed torturously slowly as the woman who’d shown him so much unkindness on the first day was constantly by his side, coordinating clients, attending work parties at his side, acting as a liaison. And throughout it all she was constantly either bickering with him, or ignoring him, or silently scowling at him. He just couldn’t figure her out.

But of course that wasn’t enough. No, now Rowan was being sent on a Yulemas vacation with Aelin, just the two of them and some eccentric smut writer who would be spending most of his time locked up in a room writing, which left Rowan and Aelin. In a resort with no cell service. Alone.

Only Hellas himself could have been so cruel as to put him in this situation.

———

Tag List:

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