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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

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Accidental Phenomenons

Nobody had been home all day, either they were out on missions, at school, or at work. Sam, Quill, and Scott were the first ones to get back and they all ended up at the penthouse to raid the fridge for something to eat. When they got there though, they found three strangers standing in the kitchen and looking a little confused. Well, the teenager was looking confused. The toddler was sniffling and rubbing his eyes, and the silver-haired adult woman was trying to calm the toddler. When the three Avengers came in, the woman looked up at them and actually looked relieved.

"Who the hell are you?" Quill finally asks.

The toddler immediately looks up and turns on the stool he was sitting on and then launched himself at the celestial. Quill grunts when he wraps his arms and legs around the god and rubs his face in his collarbone with fresh tears.

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry Daddy!" The little boy whimpers.

The look on Quill's face was comical and the scathing one on Scott's almost made Sam laugh. Almost. They had more pressing matters to turn their focus on. The boy clinging to Quill had no need for support and certainly wasn't getting any from the god since his arms were straight out at the sides.

"I thought you said you wore condoms in space." Scott says.

"I did! I swear!" Quill exclaims and grimaces when the toddler sniffles against his shoulder. "I have no idea who this kid is!"

"That would be Flynn." The woman says and all three men look at her, then the toddler, and then realization dawns on them.

"Athena?" Scott asks curiously as Quill tries to pry the toddler off. It wasn't really working.

When she nods, Sam looks over at the teenager. "That makes you Tibbs."

"When are Dad and Gramps getting home? I wanna go down to the lab." The boy asks and then yawns.

It was the breaking limit for Sam. He burst into laughter, wheezing about the Gramps name Tibbs very obviously gave Tony. Athena sighs and mutters under her breath as she walks over to the living room to sit on the couch, and Tibbs sits on the breakfast counter. Quill eventually managed to pry Flynn off of him and was holding him out at arms length and looking at him like he had a second head.

Scott could see the hundreds of questions running through his head, but what the celestial finally asked was, "what did you do?"

Flynn squirms in Quill's hold to cling onto him again. "I didn't mean to…" he repeats with a hiccup. "I slipped while playing with Tibbs and I broke the big shiny cup."

"The what?"

"He's speaking of the relic that Master brought home." Athena elaborates, motioning toward the shards of a broken vase on the floor. "He didn't know what it did and deemed it harmless enough to bring home and study."

Scott scratches the back of his head. "Well I guess now we know. Is he dimension hopping?"

She shakes her head. "He is out with his mate."

"Guess we're waiting for Mama Bear to get home." Sam says.

Neither Scott nor Quill argued, and they decided to get the three new humans fed. Sam helped Scott in the kitchen and Quill sat in the living room with Flynn still very much attached to him. He fortunately calmed down and was content to cling to Quill, and Tibbs had walked around the tower until he found a sunny spot big enough for his new form to lie in. Athena was content to observe until lunch was ready. When Sam and Scott set out some sandwiches for the six of them, Quill had to get up and take Flynn to the table with him since he wanted nothing to do with anything that would potentially take him away from his daddy.

So Quill had to eat with the toddler in his lap. It was an interesting sight to see, but quickly got old since on the rare occasion, Valerie was found with Quill instead of Stephen. Tibbs took his time slinking to the table, and Athena had gone when Quill did, leaving Sam and Scott to be the last to join them with drinks in hand. They were all at the end of finishing their lunch when the elevator opened and Stephen and Tony stepped out, with Valerie on Tony's hip. That was a strange sight in itself.

The couple immediately stopped and looked at the strangers sitting at the table and then Tony looked at Stephen. "Did you adopt more kids off a website or something Duchess?"

He earned a smack to the back of his head for that remark.

"These people are actually your pets." Sam tells them and Stephen looks at them with an arched brow.

"How did this happen?" He asks and looks over to the broken vase when Athena motions to it once again. "Ah. I see."

"Can you change them back?" Tony asks as he swipes one of the extra sandwiches Sam had made.

"I believe so." Stephen nods. "Just give me a little bit to look into it." He says as he grabs the last extra sandwich and wanders off to find his books.

The books that Stephen had brought back from Kamar-Taj and the New York Sanctum slowly ended up on a bookshelf in Tony's office since that was one of the few places the kids entered. If they did, they knew not to horse around and they didn't because the only reason they ever went into the office was to play on the chessboard or retrieve something for their parents. It was where Stephen did some of his meditating or studying when he needed more quiet than usual, and that was where he disappeared to to look for a way to reverse what the relic had done to the pets.

Tony had put Valerie down for her to go do as she wished, which happened to be watching a Disney movie after retrieving her favorite stuffed animal. She, of course, looked longingly at the door to the office, but she knew Stephen was looking for a way to turn Athena, Flynn, and Tibbs back to normal. She would have her mother back as soon as he was finished and so she waited patiently on the couch and watched a movie.

"Hey Gramps? Can we go down to the lab?" Tibbs asks and Tony chokes on the piece of sandwich he had been swallowing.

"Excuse me?! What did you call me?!" Tony sputters after coughing to clear his throat.

Tibbs tilts his head. "Gramps?" And Sam started cackling again.

"He considers Peter his dad." Scott explains while Sam continues to laugh and Quill takes Flynn into the living room to watch TV with Valerie. "It makes sense that you're Gramps."

Tony points at Scott. "Nuh-uh! You don't get to be all logical about this Mr. I-Drink-From-The-Fountain-Of-Youth!"

Sam stops laughing abruptly to make a face as Scott turns bright red and Quill cackles from the living room. "Ugh, don't remind me."

Tony shakes his head and walks to the living room after finishing his sandwich, and sits on the couch. He only half paid attention to the movie playing while he texted the boys to do some odd errand on their way home from school since Stephen insisted that they try to have some normalcy in their life. The boys didn't complain about having to run errands once in a while so Tony didn't bother arguing, and it kept chaos out of the house for a few more precious minutes. He loved his kids, but they could definitely be terrors.

There was that once incident at a nearby bodega where he was actually called to pick up his kids and pay for damages, and Stephen had grounded them for two months. No friends, no phones unless there was an emergency (Friday helped with restrictions on those), and no tv. It was the harshest punishment the sorcerer had ever dishes out but it was effective. Especially when followed with:

Your father may be a billionaire, but that doesn't give you an excuse to behave like wild animals! I'm disappointed in all of you!

The poor twins had thought that Stephen was going to send them back into the system, and Harley and Peter had looked admonished when they got home. Tony took away lab time as the final nail in the coffin when they did. It was the quietest the kids had ever been but it felt wrong when it was because of a punishment.

Tony looks up from his phone when he hears books tumbling from the office, and Athena immediately jumps to her feet to go investigate. She may be temporarily human, but her loyalties still lied with Stephen.

A quiet curse floats out from the office when Athena opens the door and Tony raises an eyebrow. "Honey? Do I need to come dig you out of a pile of books?"

"NO! I-I mean...fuck--" there was more thumps and the engineer raises an eyebrow at the rare usage of a swear word. "Don't be mad."

Tony sighs and takes the cue to stand. "Did you open a hell dimension in my office? If you did, I don't think I'll know whether to be upset or thank you."

"Err...no. Nothing like that. Maybe you'll actually like this…" Stephen mumbles the last bit as Tony stands in the doorway.

He found more than just Athena and Stephen. The sorcerer was predictably under a pile of books that Athena was helping remove from him, but their four boys and Cassie were in the room as well. Harley and Thomas looked amused under what looked to be shock, Peter just looked indifferent (Tony wasn't sure how he felt about that), and William...looked mortified. Cassie looked too happy for Tony to jump into worry so he just followed their gazes back to the sorcerer.

"Are you going to help Mom or not?" Tony asks and rolls his eyes when the kids finally jump into action.

It barely took a minute for Tony to find out why Peter had looked indifferent, because as Stephen finally managed to sit up, there was a whimper...and then a cry of a baby. The engineer rushes forward to look for the source and finds himself taking the 'newborn' baby from Stephen the second he processed what he saw, ignoring his spouse's grouchy, "oh sure, I'm fine. I can get up by myself."

"How exactly did this happen?" Tony finally asks after wiggling his finger in front of the baby until she takes it.

Stephen looked confused. "I... honestly don't know. I wasn't even looking in that book. The kids managed to startle me when William teleported them here...and the next thing I know, she's lying next to me."

"Huh…" Tony says. "Well, make the boys clean up this mess. I'll go put a diaper on Lucy while you explain to Valerie that she is no longer the baby." He says calmly as he walks toward the door.

"Lucy?!" Stephen sputters. "We're not going to talk about it?"

"Lucy Elina...what? You don't like it?" Tony asks over his shoulder and Stephen sighs.

"No...I do."

"Then no. We're not going to talk about it." He says and exits the room, smiling when he hears a muttered "douchebag".

By some miracle, Tony slipped up to their room without anyone noticing the new baby, and the engineer was able to put a diaper on his newest daughter before they were found out. Sam saw her first and simply rolled his eyes.

"Always bringing kids home or into the family without any warning." He huffs.

Scott looked over at them before joining them and smiling...and then pouting. "I think Stephen's magic cheats so your kids are always cute."

"Just good genes." Tony smirks and Scott gives him a mischievous smile. "What?"

"Hey Spaceman?"

"What?" Quill asks from the living room where Stephen was currently turning the animals back to...well...animals.

"There's a new baby."

Quill's head snaps up toward the trio and Tony points at him.

"No! You stay there Porcupine! Worry about your own!"

"He's fine!"

"You'll see her in due time!"

Stephen rolls his eyes and changes each strange human back to their animal forms, and then sits on the couch with Valerie. The toddler was tilting her head curiously as her father did eventually make his way over with Sam, Scott, and the teenagers, and when she saw what Tony was holding...her expression soured. It made Harley cackle.

"Valerie...this is your new baby sister." Stephen says softly and Val frowns.

"Mama no love me?" She asks sadly and the sorcerer immediately pulls her into a hug and pushes his fingers through her hair.

"Of course I do. Do you think I stopped loving your brothers or Diana when you were born?" When she shakes her head, he smiles. "That's right. I love you all the same. For a while it might seem like me and Daddy are giving her lots of attention but that's only because she can't take care of herself like you can now." Stephen explains gently and Valerie looks at the new baby again.

Fortunately she accepted this and moved closer to inspect her baby sister more, but Stephen could still sense some of the jealousy. When Valerie was born, Diana at least had some forewarning to her potential arrival, and the boys were basically used to it at that point...but Valerie didn't get that. Tony and Stephen had planned on talking to the kids beforehand, but this was truly an accident. A happy and wanted one, but an accident all the same. It would likely take time for Valerie to warm up to the idea of Lucy being around, especially when she was now going to take up a good portion of her parents attention.

"Speaking of Diana…" Tony starts and Cassie gasps.

"Oh my god it was my turn to pick her up today wasn't it?!" The teen grabs William's hand. "Help me!"

William sighs softly. "Well...at least I'll sleep tonight."

And then they were gone in the blink of an eye. A couple of minutes barely passed when they came back with Diana, but it was long enough for Tony to get comfortable on the couch before she practically jumped at them to see the baby. Diana was a very laid back child and easily went with the flow of things.

"A new baby sister!" She says excitedly as she jumps onto the couch next to Tony to look down at Lucy. "What's her name?"

"Lucy." Stephen answers as he continues to run his fingers through Valerie's hair.

All three animals present had gotten as close as possible to sniff at the new addition, and this time, Stephen didn't need to tell Athena she was family. The wolf already knew.

"Hey!" Quill suddenly says as he pulls Flynn away. "I need to teach you what personal space is!" Scott snorted at that.

"For once, Nat owes me money." Sam grins. "I'm going to go collect and send the cavalry up."

Tony sighs and leans his head back against the couch as Sam steps onto the elevator. "When did I sign up for chaos?"

"When you adopted Peter and married Stephen." Scott answers and Tony reaches over and smacks the back of his head once he frees an arm from under the baby. "Ow."

"I'm just glad it's another girl. It's a freaking sausage party around here." Cassie says.

It sent Quill and Harley into hysterics.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au #lucy elina stark-strange (oc)#cassie lang #scott lang #peter quill #sam wilson

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argylemikewheeler · 5 years

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hurricane thundercloud (byeler)

inspired by Kettering by The Antlers: tw for mentions of abuse and homophobia (thanks to the anon who sent in this song and inadvertently inspired this)

It happened when they were twenty. Mike thought they were in the clear, thought they had escaped every bad dream of their childhood. They weren’t passing through Hawkins, despite doing so in between semesters. Their houses were still caged, even if their four walls didn’t scale quite as high as the ones they’d built around themselves.

Mike got the call while he was washing dishes one evening. He was still in his pajamas and had soap bubbles climbing up his hand as he reached for the phone. It rested between his ear and his shoulder as he ran soap and sponge against his mother’s best crystal, watching the sunset red wine spill over his hands. It was a regular Thursday night in May. It was just their third night home from college.

The news shattered Mike like one of the fragile glasses he was cleaning. He felt himself become an echo of the world around him before stumbling into the kitchen counter, grappling for stability. The voice was familiar-- Jonathan, he thinks. He can’t remember correctly, even when he’s older. Who ever it was, they were seeking out Mike only. They spoke calmly. It was only a three sentence conversation, but it felt like it went on for an hour without a breath.

Get to Hawkins General as quickly as you can. Will’s here-- he’s in the hospital. He’s really fucked up.

At first, the phrase didn’t make any sense to Mike: really fucked up. It wasn’t anything he associated with Will. His William had been a bit wild before, drinking a bit when the Party was home for Christmas, but he was fine. He drank water the next day and laid around Mike’s house with him and he was fine. It was the most sincerely pained smile Will had ever offered Mike, eyes squinting and blanket around his shoulders. What did this Will look like? He definitely wasn’t smiling.

And he wouldn’t for a very long time. But Mike didn’t know that. He had no way to. He barely saw this coming, phone ringing and breaking his calm evening into a million pieces.

Mike dropped the phone and sponge with a shuttering gasp. He backed away from the sink, like there was something crawling out of it rather than crawling through his mind. Something dark and heavy. Something Will had said in passing the night before:

I’m gonna tell him, Michael. I really am.

He always said it, as a playful always-hypothetical threat to his father. Will would throw his relationship with Mike in his father’s face like a firecracker. Beautiful to all but the man seeing only the harmful individual sparks. But Will really did it this time. He lit the fuse and... maybe forgot to back away fast enough.

Mike barely remembered how he got to the hospital. He could have run for all he knew; he was sweating enough. Or was that tight, dry feeling on his face tear-tracks instead? It was immaterial. The only question Mike wanted an answer to was: "Where is Will? William Byers?”

It took Mike two hours to get into Will's room. He wasn't calm enough for them to let him in. In addition, he kept calling Will his boyfriend and it took that long to find a nurse who didn't turn their nose up at him. Mike kept thinking he should keep the truth to himself, but how would that not be just as terrible as whatever happened to Will?

Whatever happened. Mike didn't have to kid himself. He knew what happened. He could point the finger confidently and without remorse: Fuck Lonnie Byers. Mike wants to channel every hot tear and frustrated spat he had with the nurses to the karma of Lonnie, but Mike thinks it’s too kind to even appear to even think that much about him.

When Mike steps into the hospital room, it’s empty except for the bed. There’s someone on the bed, arms by his sides and resting over the blanket. His face is bruised and his cheek has a few stitches. It’s Will, Mike knows it is, but he doesn’t look like his William.

Mike had expected Will to look small, maybe frail and withering, but there was no overlooking the heavy, powerful contrast of his dark bruises against the white sheets. It’s the most confrontational Will’s ever looked.

Well, maybe second. Mike wasn’t there when he spoke to Lonnie.

“Will?” Mike says. His footsteps clatter against the tile floor. He stops and waits for Will. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crack open and find Mike. “Will. Where’s everyone? What happened?”

“Talking to Hopper.” Will’s voice is rougher than the last time Mike heard it. So much had changed.

Mike still hasn’t moved. He’s standing in the middle of the floor, hands by his sides. He talks in between beeps from Will’s machines. “What... What did you do?”

“I do?” Mike hates how it sounds coming from someone else. It’s not what he meant. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“That’s not...” Mike steps closer. Nothing crumbles and Will doesn’t move further away. Will inhales slowly. He knows what question is actually coming; they just both don’t want to ask it. “I just want to know what happened.”

Will’s response is a hiccup-- a lurching sob. His hand reaches out for Mike’s and it’s the fastest thing in the room. Mike scrambles, not sure how to cradle something with a large needle taped to it. It makes all the warmth Mike tries to press into Will’s hand-- all the love he likes to think he keeps cupped in his hand and transfers over to his Will-- feel like it’s spoiled. It feels stale and frozen in the cold hospital air. Mike reaches with his other hand for another blanket to put on Will’s legs. He doesn’t even ask.

"I shouldn’t have told him.”

“Will--”

"She had just gone to work. I should have waited. I should have waited. Michael, I’m sorry.” Will is still upset, bordering on hysterical. In a matter of seconds-- or had it been longer? Mike isn’t even sure he’s awake. His shirt is still wet from washing dishes but that feels like it was a week ago. Mike squeezes Will’s hand and tries to give solace to Will’s crumpling and shredded composure. He isn’t so sure it works.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” Mike says, moving his thumb over the top of Will’s hand. You aren’t the one in the wrong.”

“I-I really threw it in his face, Michael. I was so terrible.” Will insists and Mike knows that Will isn’t going to believe anyone other than himself. So he stands in silence and listens. “He saw that card you gave me... the one you sent me after my terrible finals week... I had been reading it to try and cheer myself up and-- God, I’m so stupid-- I left it on the table. Just out in the open. And he saw it. He asked who my sour sweet pea was... I could have said anyone. I should have just lied. .. I should have just lied.”

Mike knows lying is easier, but it’s the most painful option. They’d been slowly asking the other to numb every part of themselves, if only to feel less pain doing the same routine of lies. Will was the only one brave enough to tell Mike no, he wanted to feel again. Mike hates that the pain is now tangible and horrifically worse. All the numbing had done the opposite effect: all his pain was magnified.

“Hearing your name made his face twist up into this... this grimace. I should have known then... His chest just started heaving like he was going to pass out. And then he just-- He got really mad. Michael, he got so mad... I’d never... so mad.”

Will doesn’t speak on it much further. He doesn’t explain what was done to him. Mike can see it with his own eyes clearly. Mike can practically watch the argument from the colors changing in Will’s bruises. They’re deep and blotchy. They’re an announcement of hate neither had ever seen before.

Mike hushes Will and tries to sit next to him in bed. There isn’t much room and Will won’t stop shaking. Instead, Mike pulls up a chair up from the edge of the room. He hates standing away from Will for even a second. The distance makes Mike feel like he’s allowing the violence to exist unopposed. He sits down and lets Will know that it’s not.

“You didn’t deserve this, Will.”

“It sure feels like I do.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Will. You’re not guilty of--”

“I hit him too.” Will says. He acts like his words could do the same hurt to Mike. “I shouldn’t have. But I-I did. I was so mad and... I got so scared.” He chokes out his words and Mike isn’t sure how to help Will cough them up. “I thought... I thought maybe, while everyone was out and I was all alone... Lonnie was just going to let me die. Right there, sprawled on the carpet.”

“You’re okay though. You’re okay, Will. You’re here and so is your mom and your brother-- and Hop. I can call any of the Party if you need. You’re okay. You’re--”

“I love you, Michael,” Will says with a quivering voice. “But this hurts too much. All of it.”

Mike doesn’t try and convince Will it doesn’t. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. Do you just want to hurt right now?”

“Yeah. I think so. I’m not ready to stop being mad yet. Part of me... Part of me wishes Mom hadn’t forgotten her keys. I wasn’t finished yet.”

“I know.” Mike doesn’t, but he says it anyway.

Mike rests his head on the mattress, just by Will’s hand and tries not to cry. It isn’t his turn to hurt, his turn to feel hopeless or insulted. Will’s taking on more than enough for them both, and Mike’s only job is to try and lift it. He listens to Will’s quiet sobs as if they’re complete words. He nods and hushes the ones that sound particularly coherent and painful.

There isn’t much else Mike can think to do. He thought-- in some hidden nightmare he only just realizes-- it’d be him in that hospital bed, leaving Will to pick up all the pieces. But now that the roles are reversed, it’s disorienting to learn there aren’t any pieces to clean up. There’s nothing whole enough to even scrape together. But at least, in some strange way, there’s nothing broken. Not on Will, not between them. Will lay there like he hadn’t lost a single thing. There were only ghosts of pride in his heart-- at least for now-- but he acted like they were ghouls, ready for their next haunting.

He was right. It wasn’t over, not yet.

ao3

#byeler #byler #will byers x mike wheeler #prompts #angsty byeler #stranger things writing

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wolfpawn · 6 years

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When Ghosts Come For Us

Chapter 32

NOTE This is based on the movie Crimson Peak, so if any of the subject matter in that was uncomfortable for you, you will find this similar. I will *NOT* be describing incest in this, it will only be implied, same as the movie.

As I have stated already, my laptop is broken at present so please excuse grammar mistakes and the lack of GIFs and pics.

Also, I do not own any image or gif used in this story.

HERE is the link to Chapter 1 on Ao3

Rating - Mature

Charlotte groaned. Of late, she was feeling slight pains every so often. “False Labour Pains” Mrs Robinson had called them. They were irritating but she endured them.

She found the child was growing rapidly, more so than she had ever thought would be possible. As it stood, she was unsure how it was still fitting inside her. But according to Mrs Robinson, she had time to go yet.

Sighing, she looked at the locked chest in her art room, the one with the hidden area in the base. There is where she had taken the medications that Edward had left in the drawer close to Lucille, knowing that his sister would find them there. There were two keys, one she kept around her neck, the other she had hidden in a book she had placed on her art table. The spine was able to hide it, giving her the opportune hiding place.

Thomas insisted that Charlotte explain all of the medications and their dosages to him, citing that with her only going to get bigger with the baby, he needed to know what would be needed also. She instructed him accordingly.

She slowly made her way, with the assistance of the elevator to his workshop in the attic. She hated that room and could not comprehend for the life of her why Thomas insisted on using it. It was the scene of his childhood abuse yet of the two of them, she disliked it more.

When she knocked on the door, there was silence inside for a moment before Thomas answered. “Lottie?”

“Hello.” She toyed with her hands sheepishly.

“Is everything alright? Is it the child?”

Since all the truth was revealed, Thomas and Charlotte had not spoken to one another with the same frequency. As a result, Charlotte, now felt lonely and isolated outside of the times that Mrs Phillips was present. That caused her current situation, standing outside her husband's workshop, yearning for his company.

“Yes, I just...perhaps…” She bit her lips together. “I apologise for disturbing you, you are obviously busy…” She turned and began to leave.

“Lottie?” Since Edward pointed out he had ceased calling her the pet name, he made point of referring to her as such again. “You came all the way up here for a reason, what is it?” He asked, his voice soft so to not make her feel he was irritated by her.

“It is irrelevant.”

“No, you do not do irrelevant things, what is it, tell me?” He took her hand in his. “Your hands are warm.” Thomas looked down, showing slight dislike, having never liked overly warm hands.

“Sorry.” She pulled her hand back.

“Are you ill?” He asked worriedly.

“No, just nervous.”

“Whatever for?” She looked up at him. “Lottie, what is afoot?”

“I just would like…”

“What Lottie?” He pressed. “What would you like?’

“You.”

He frowned. “I…”

“Nevermind, forgive my intrusion.” She dismissed.

Thomas looked sadly at her, not understanding fully what she was trying to say. He looked at her rotund stomach, it was startling to him to see his child growing so greatly within her. “Lottie…” She looked sadly. “Please, speak to me.”

Her nostrils flared at his words as there was nothing she wanted with greater intensity. “How is... are…oh!” She rubbed where the baby had given a strong movement before hissing as it moved again.

“What...is it…?” Thomas's face was filled with concern for her wellbeing as well as the terrifyingly daunting idea of the child actually arriving and all the stresses that would incur. As she leant against the wall, Thomas held onto her. “Lottie?”

“It's fine, don't worry yourself, it is only moving and finding there is no room to do so.” she dismissed. “It will be a large child, I think. Or am I smaller than I thought?” She huffed a slight laugh.

Thomas gave her a small smile. “Perhaps a mixture of both.” He urged her to come into his workshop. “How much longer does Mrs Robinson think?”

“A month, perhaps. A first child is apparently unpredictable.” She sat down and sighed, elated to have her feet not bear her weight for a few minutes. “This room is still quite cold.” She noted. “I thought it was fixed?”

“The men fixed the draughts, yes, but it seems it does not heat even now.” Thomas looked around before finding a blanket to put on Charlotte but noticed she was looking curiously at the model on the table that he had been working on. “I...”

“What does it do, is it new?” She asked.

Thomas eyed his wife for a moment, thinking over everything, her keen interest in his work but also the deceit though one statement remained with him, the one she made regarding how one could not feign interest to the extent she had with his work and recalling her ability to recall certain smaller details even after a time, he felt perhaps, she genuinely was interested in his work. “I was seeing about perhaps upgrading the current machine.”

“How does it differ?” She tried to rise to her feet but Thomas indicated for her to remain seating and he brought the current and the potential upgrade models to the table by her, her keen face showing him her genuine interest. “It's more...compacted, is it not?”

“It is.” He smiled, seeing her be interested made him feel all the better. “It will be capable of greater output in smaller areas and use less coal.” He explained.

“So it is cheaper in the long term to run, but at what initial cost?” Charlotte questioned.

“Therein lies the issue, with a machine like this, it would be the first of its kind at this reduced scale, so all parts would be unique and custom made to order.” He explained, noting how she nodded.

“What of the idea to open that other shaft farther over the land? Is that part of the plan with this, of having two machines?”

“That will require more involvement with the notorious Mr Brown.”

“Ah, our lovely Mr Brown.” It was clear from Charlotte's tone her dislike for the other man, something she no longer had to give any form of pretense of naivety to. “We could always just buy him off, he is not exactly adverse to such things. If it is only paperwork, four thousand would secure it. If the mineral is as rich as you say, we will profit to the tune of double that in the first three years. The concern becomes the digging of it. What is the plan for that? Is it dependant on man power and if so, what can we do to prevent a collapse?”

Thomas simply looked at her in almost a state of shock for a moment having never thought she could think in such a calculated manner regarding Mr Brown and the insight she seemed to have to the concerns of said new venture. “Well...is Mr Brown one to…?”

“Thomas, Mr Brown is, in layman's terms, unscrupulous to say the least. He is as crooked as they come and for that sum, he would sign his wife and bastards to you too if you wanted them. Anything we want will be ours for that. He would do it for three thousand, but four...four will guarantee no issue of any form with paperwork.” She rubbed her stomach as she spoke.

“How do you know this?”

“William and he had dealings in my presence before.” She explained. “It should not have been possible for one family to hold such stakes in the Indian market, yet the Hamiltons did, thanks in many ways, to Mr Brown. William told me everything I needed to know of him, hence my wariness of him.”

Thomas felt a jealous clenching in his stomach at the mention of the other man. “So you had experience of his actions?”

“I had.” There was a sly smirk on her face as she spoke causing Thomas to become confused. “You recall his little gathering we attended?” Thomas nodded. “I put a sedative that reacts badly with drink when he started badgering you for cards. He planned on five thousand, myself and Lucille that night.” Thomas was startled by that. “The Hamiltons had his number in that manner.”

“I see.” Thomas stated, not saying anything further on that manner.

Charlotte gave him a look of understanding. “So, what are the plans regarding opening the mine?” Seeing that referencing the Hamiltons bothered him, she altered the conversation back to her previous, still unanswered question. “How will it be done? Can we minimise human interference in that aspect? Surely that is the most dangerous part and should be avoided if possible?”

“I can use the machines to open the mines with minor adjustments.”

“Okay, that looks like it is a plan.” She smiled contentedly, her hand gently placed on her large stomach.

Thomas looked at her hand, noting his mother's ring was no longer on her hand. “May I ask, where is my mother's ring?”

“I gave it to Lucille again. My fingers no longer fit it and being honest, I could think of no safer place for it.”

Thomas swallowed at the realisation that Charlotte knew of the ring being Lucille's. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Do you like that ring?”

“If I am honest, no. It is big and heavy. I only wear it because I want to declare my marriage, nothing more.” She looked at her husband to gauge his reaction, wondering why he was smiling. “May I ask why?”

Thomas smiled and walked to his desk, moving the papers around until he found what he was looking for. “I planned on giving this to you when the child was born, but I feel now is as good a time as any.” He walked over and handed her the box. “If I had done this right, proposed to you correctly and truly gotten to know you beforehand as I have done in our marriage, I would have had this made and going forward, I hope you would wear this in the stead of the other ring.” He opened the box. “I know you cannot wear it at present but after the child is born…”

Charlotte was flabbergasted at the ring she was looking at. It was not big or overly extravagant but it was beautiful, more beautiful than she felt a piece of jewelry could be. “Thomas…”

“Do you like it?”

“It is beautiful.” She could barely whisper the words. “Perfect.” She looked at Thomas's smiling face. “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to be proud of your wedding ring.”

“I only need to be proud of my husband, the piece of metal that signifies our marriage means nothing in the greater scheme of things. I would wear a ring of lead or copper if it was all we had, so long as you are the one I call my husband.” She leant forward and kissed him, an act they had not shared much since everything occured. Thomas leant I'm and kissed her back. “I have missed you, I have missed this and our talking.”

“As have I.” He confessed. “Lottie?” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “I am sorry, I am sorry I ever was dishonest and untruthful to you.”

'And I am sorry for such also.’ She declared. “I love you so dearly, Thomas.” She looked at the ring again and smiled. “It is clear that you love me enough to notice my likes and dislikes and for that, I love you all the more.”

Tags:

@ilovekingt @lokiloveheart @sigridlaufeyson @texmexdarling @lokilover9 @wolfsmom1 @whovianwookie86-captainxev

#Thomas Sharpe #Lucille Sharpe #Crimson peak story #crimson peak #chapter 32 #When Ghosts Come For Us

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baronessblixen · 6 years

Text

Safe & Sound

Based on THIS post by @carrie11. A fluffy-ish William piece set in/after Existence. There’s no angst here. Tagging @today-in-fic

He's been here a hundred times. A million, maybe. He's never kept count. Scully's apartment has always felt like a home to him, hers and now, maybe, his. Tonight as he steps inside, it feels like a new world. A kind of hush clings to the walls, to the furniture. A new smell, softer and warmer, flies through the air. Mulder is not able to catch it. He walks inside, stuffs the keys into his pocket. They press into his thigh, reminding him how new this is. He doesn't remember how long he's had Scully's key. The times he's used it? He might be able to put a number on that.

His feet move without direction; he knows exactly where he needs to go, where he wants to be. His son. No book has prepared him for the avalanche of emotion that broke over him the first time he saw the baby in Scully's arms, red and squishy, wailing. In that moment time stopped. One look at Scully, at their child and he knew. A new chapter was about to begin.

He's seen William before, of course. In the hospital, clean and perfect, swaddled in a blanket, but far away. Then here, in his new home, in Scully's bedroom with his eyes half open, still unseeing, trying to glimpse what all of this is about. Not that Mulder has any clue. For his son's sake he will figure it out. At least he's got Scully by his side. She, he knows that much, will know exactly how to do this, what to do. His lip curls upwards, his heart jumps just thinking about her. About kissing her again, maybe. But that will have to wait.

There's a soft noise coming from the nursery and Mulder follows it. It's a soft gurgle, one that almost sounds like a laugh and Scully would roll her eyes at him reminding him that newborns don't laugh. Mulder remains in the doorway, reluctant to get in. It's not Scully in there with their son and if it were anyone but her mother he knows he'd feel jealousy, rage even. His son, a primal voice growls in his mind. He wills it to quiet down.

"Oh Fox," Maggie Scully turns to him, a shy, yet happy smile on her face, "Dana said you'd come over. Come in, come in." He can't stay away much longer anyway. His eyes long to see, his fingers want to touch. William's eyes are closed; this new life is exhausting, after all. Mulder can relate, smiles at the sleeping newborn. The mouth, with defiant Scully lips, is half open as if he'd been in the middle of a conversation with his grandmother before he fell asleep. Mulder watches in amazement. He falls in love with every breath William takes, with the gentle twitch of his tiny nose, with the way he makes a little fist.

"He is so beautiful." Maggie Scully voices his thoughts and he nods. He puts his hand on the warm baby, needs to feel him under his skin. That's when he notices the blanket William is wrapped up in. His breath catches.

"It's cute, isn't it?" Mulder's finger follows the shape of one of the foxes that adorns William's blanket. It's not a fox on the run; it's as if the animal was looking out, clever and apprehensive, guarding the little boy. He nods, his throat suddenly tight.

"We bought it before...you know." Mrs. Scully has never once talked about his death and miraculous resurrection with him. She only gasped, hugged him tight and told him welcome home. "I knew Dana would make sure the baby knew who you were. I thought he should have something that reminds all of us of you." Her hand joins his on the boy's small stomach and their fingers touch. Neither he nor Scully have ever said the word, to each other or to anyone else. Yet everyone, including her mother and Skinner, assumed what Mulder's role in all of this was. A father. That's who he is now, too.

"Go take your son and join Dana. I didn't have the heart to wake her, but he'll be hungry soon." Your son. Two small words that mean the world. They fall from her lips easily, feel like a blessing. He nods, shyly, lets out a sound caught between a cry and a laugh. He puts his hands under the small body; he weighs next to nothing, this miracle of theirs. But he inhabits his whole heart, his soul. He feels Maggie Scully's eyes on him as he cradles the baby in his arms. He takes small steps; Scully's bedroom seems to be in another dimension. She is on her back, fast asleep. Another wave of love washes over him. Once upon a time he wasn't sure he would ever feel this. Whether he even deserved it. He looks down at William, at the foxes on his blanket.

"Not running away." Mulder mumbles. He puts down the newborn next to Scully, lies down beside him. He watches them both, his new, his whole, world.

"Mulder?"

"Shh, yeah, it's me. And William." He answers in a whisper. Scully opens her eyes, two pools of blue.

"Hm, my mother?"

"She's still here," he tells her, "she took care of William."

"I forgot about that blanket." Scully says, her voice laced with sadness. "My mom insisted on buying it. I cried every time I saw it and made her take it home with her."

"I'm so sorry, Scully."

"No, I'm glad she bought it. Look at him," Scully chuckles, sighs, "safe and sound swaddled in a fox blanket."

"Not sure a fox is a good parent." She touches his cheek and he looks at her.

"Foxes are great parents, actually. And I know this one fox who will be the best."

"Does that make you a vixen?" Before she can answer, William coos, tries to open his eyes. Mulder watches as Scully begins to nurse the baby and he never wants to leave again, ever.

#i wrote this instead of eating #it wouldn't leave me alone #i hope you guys like it #haven't written william in ages!#my beautiful alien baby #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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aswithasunbeam · 7 years

Text

Finding Forgiveness, Chapter 3

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Eliza Hamilton can't keep punishing her husband forever. If she didn't intend to leave him, she would need to find a way to forgive him. But how? The Reynolds Pamphlet aftermath

September 1797

Her boy was sick, and there was nothing she could do.

Her boy was dying, and there was nothing she could do.

“Mrs. Hamilton?” the doctor whispered softly just behind her.

Doctor David Hosack was a heavy set man with kind eyes and a deep, rich voice. He was supposed to be one of the most brilliant doctors in New York; Doctor Charleton had called him in to consult when Philip’s condition had turned for the worst. Hosack’s large palm rested on her shoulder as he tried to catch her attention. “Mrs. Hamilton, I think it would be best if you stepped out of the room again.”

She whipped her head around to glare at him. How dare he suggest that? The last time she’d left the room at Hosack’s insistence, her son had stopped breathing. The doctor said he’d written to Alexander, but it would take time for the letter to reach him in Hartford, and for him to return back to New York. She still wished he was here. She doubted Hosack would demand her husband leave the room; she knew Alexander would never ask her to do so.

Philip was dying. He needed his mother. If she could do nothing else, she could be by his side when he went.

“You’re upset, and near to a faint, ma’am. He’ll need you strong as he recovers. Just take a few moments. Lie down, rest your eyes.” He was lying. She could see it in his face. Her boy was no more out of danger than he’d been minutes before, when he’d laid gasping on his pillow, only to go eerily, horribly still.

“He’s dying,” she said. The words made the idea seem more real. A panicked whimper followed as she held the hand not clutching her child to her mouth. Her precious baby boy was dying.

“It would be best if you left the room, ma’am,” Hosack repeated. He didn’t correct her. At least he hadn’t lied to her again.

She shook her head stubbornly, gripping her son’s hand with renewed force.

Hosack sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, Mrs. Hamilton. Your son is very ill. But your presence in this room does nothing for him, and is harmful to you. If I promise to send for you before the end, will you go rest?”

His eyes were sincere, caring, as they bore into her own. Not long ago, she might have trusted him. She trusted only in God now.

“I won’t leave him. He needs me.”

Hosack shook his head and moved away from her towards his black bag, open on the nightstand. She bowed her head in prayer. Please, she begged, not Philip. Not my son.

~*~

The front door closed with a mighty thud downstairs, waking Eliza from the half sleep she’d fallen into in the hard wooden chair beside her son’s bed. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, frantic, and a form appeared from the dark hallway. Her husband. Panting, sweating, wild eyed, he flung himself to his knees beside the bed, staring at their son.

“Is he? Eliza, is he?”

“Alive,” she assured him. “He’s going to be all right.”

His shoulders sagged, as though the weight of Atlas had been lifted from them. His head fell to the bed. “Thank you,” she heard him whisper. “Thank you.”

A moment of silence passed between them: shared prayers of gratitude for the life they had created and were blessed to see continue. Her husband touched their son’s face reverently before looking back at her.

“What happened? He seemed so much better when I left.”

Everything had seemed fine when he left for Hartford six days ago. Nathaniel Pendleton had been hovering anxiously in the door, early enough in the morning that the sun had yet to rise, when Hamilton had turned back to look at her. “Are you sure, Betsey? I could stay.”

The way Pendleton’s eyes had widened in panic, she knew that he was lying. He had to go, and, really, the children were all recovering nicely. Alex and Angelica had been up and about the day before, their fevers gone and the weakness slowly ebbing. Alex had wheedled an extra day off of school from his father the past night, but she could tell from her husband’s amused expression as he spoke to their son that his decision had little to do with concern for the boy’s health. Only Philip remained truly bedridden. Even he had been awake and well enough to complain loudly about boredom the day before. Really, there was nothing Hamilton could do for him that she and the doctor could not accomplish in his absence.

“Go. We’ll be fine,” she’d assured him.

And they had been, at first. Philip’s fever was persistent, but hardly dangerous. She forced fluids on him, kept him cool with fresh rags on his forehead, and gave him every draught the doctor recommended. In turn, Philip had fussed with his blankets and complained endlessly, as he always had when he was ill.

She’d caught Angelica in his room on the second day of her husband’s absence. The girl had smuggled up a deck of cards, and propped her brother up on his pillows so he could play with her. Eliza had backed away from the room, vowing to catch her daughter in her act of disobedience—in perhaps an hour or so.

Everything had been fine.

“Two nights ago, his fever rose much higher than it had been. He went so quiet, just lying there. I’ve never seen him like that before. I sent for the doctor immediately. Doctor Charleton ministered to him for some time, and then sent for another physician, Doctor Hosack, to render additional assistance. Pip was unconscious. Nothing would wake him. And then…he stopped breathing….” The fear gripped at her again, as strong as when it first happened. Her throat tightened and blackness pressed on her vision.

They almost lost him.

“Doctor Hosack? He helped him?” Alexander asked, bring her back to the present.

She nodded. “He stayed at Philip’s side night and day until he was sure the danger had past. If it hadn’t been for him, we might have lost our boy.”

She heard him swallow thickly, and his hands clutched at their son tightly.

“Is the doctor still here?”

“In the guest room,” she informed him.

Alexander leaned forward over the bed, kissing Pip’s head tenderly and brushing a hand through his unruly dark curls. “Troublesome boy,” he whispered, a fond smile softening the tense lines of exhaustion on his face. “Scaring your Papa half to death. What am I going to do with you?”

Philip exhaled softly and adjusted on the pillow, still fast asleep.

Hamilton looked up at her. “I’m going to go thank the doctor.”

“He’s asleep,” she told him.

“I need to thank him.”

She nodded in understanding and watched him haul himself up. His path from the room weaved slightly. He must have ridden nonstop from Hartford to get here tonight, she realized. He dropped all his cases, all that important work he’d been doing for weeks to prepare, and simply mounted a horse and raced back to New York, to her and the children.

He’d done that before: when she’d been ill while he was in western Pennsylvania fighting the Whiskey rebels, in those horrible, dark days she tried not to think about. When put to the test, he’d proven time and again that he would put his family before any other responsibility. She looked down at her son, and tried to take comfort in her family being together and whole.

Alexander stepped back into the room a few minutes later. “The baby was asleep,” he reported as he knelt by the bed once more. “Jamie woke up briefly and asked if I’d brought him anything.”

She smiled. “Did you?”

“There may be some sweets in my portmanteau,” he replied.

“Did you buy them for the children? Or for you?”

He laughed. “For the children,” he smirked. “Why? Are you worried for my waistline?”

“No,” she assured him. “Honestly, I don’t mind little extra weight on you.”

He scoffed. “Flatterer.”

“What? I just like seeing you healthy and well fed.”

He patted at his middle. “Well, you certainly see to that, my dearest.”

They shared a smile across their sleeping child. Philip was all right, and they were smiling and laughing. They were happy, she told herself firmly.

Everything was fine now.

~*~

She slowly pulled her nightgown over her head. The clock had struck four a few minutes ago, and Hamilton had pulled himself off of Pip’s bed and roused her from her chair when the grandfather clock downstairs tolled the hour. “Come on, Betsey,” he’d whispered drowsily. “We’re both falling asleep. He’s out of danger; he just needs rest. We should go to bed.”

Her head was spinning with a heady combination of relief and exhaustion, her thoughts fuzzy and muddled, almost as though she’d had too much wine. Alexander finished changing beside her, and placed his travel clothes in the laundry pile. He looked up, as though sensing her gaze, and he gave her a tentative smile.

She moved towards him almost on instinct. Her arms wound around his waist, tugging him close. Her mouth pressed against his. She’d gone so long without kissing him, the sensation felt intoxicating.

His arms stayed slack at his side at first. He stood passively, letting her touch him, hold him, kiss him. She pushed him backwards, against the wall of their bedroom, forcing her tongue between his lips. His lower lip dropped open and his teeth parted, his tongue poking out to touch hers gently. Then his hands finally moved to her waist.

“I want you,” she whispered breathily when they parted for air.

He inhaled sharply. His pupils were large in the dim candlelight, nearly overtaking the blue of his eyes, as he gazed down at her hungrily. Still, he hesitated.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you,” she said again. It wasn’t really an answer.

She passionately kissed him again. She felt his hands pass over her rear and he squeezed lightly. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed closer. He took her weight and lifted her off the floor. She was surprised for a moment, not least of all because she had yet to lose all the weight she’d gained while pregnant with William. The additional pounds seemed to give him no trouble, however, and she wrapped her legs around his waist eagerly, adjusting her nose to the other side of his.

He laid her on the bed tenderly, still kissing her. When he pulled back, she stared up into his eyes and ran her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. His eyes closed and a moan of pleasure fell from his lips. He seemed to enjoy the light scratching.

A scene flashed before her mind’s eyes suddenly, wholly unwelcome and beyond her control. Maria Reynolds smirked beneath her husband, scratching at his back while he gave a sensual moan. Eliza had seen the scratches all those years ago. As much as she’d tried to ignore them, to explain them away (perhaps he’d scraped his back in a fall, or playing with the children, anything, anything else), the image of those red marks lingered in her mind.

A wave of nausea shot through her and she pushed Alexander off of her.

“Eliza?” he asked, voice still hoarse with passion.

She leaned over the side of the bed, breathing deliberately.

“Eliza, what—”

“Leave me alone,” she demanded.

“I don’t—” He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder and she scrambled away.

She was out of the bedroom, on the stairs, when she heard him call after her again. “Eliza!” She kept running, all the way down the stairs and through the front door.

She stopped at the bottom of the stoop. Where could she go at four o’clock in the morning, and in her nightgown no less? Angelica had gone away with John on his business trip and hadn’t yet returned. She supposed she could still go to their house; surely, the servants would let her in. And she had other friends, close enough to her that they wouldn’t begrudge her a guest room even at such an hour.

None of those were really options, though. She’d have to go back upstairs to collect William, at least. He couldn’t be away from her at such a young age. Though Philip was supposedly out of danger now, she didn’t like the thought of leaving him either.

More than any of that, the person she truly wanted to run to was the very person from whom she’d just fled. She sat on the bottom stair and pulled her knees up to her chest for warmth on the cold fall night. Tears gathered in her eyes, making the deserted, dimly lit street blurry. She squeezed her eyes closed and forced herself to breathe.

The front door opened and closed behind her a few minutes later. A blanket wrapped around her shoulders before her husband seated himself on the far end of the stair beside her. He must have followed her, and gone to collect a blanket when he saw she’d stopped on the front stairs, she supposed. She tugged the blanket closer around herself.

“It’s starting to get cold at night,” her husband remarked mildly.

She nodded silently.

He sighed. “Do you think you could let me in on what just happened? Because I’m very confused.”

She shrugged, not sure how to begin explaining the whirlwind her thoughts seemed trapped in lately: the storm of love, hate, sorrow, lust, and anger that constantly threatened to overwhelm her.

“I’m trying, Betsey,” he whispered. His eyes were shimmering in the light from the streetlamp, as though he too were close to tears. “I’m really trying to do what’s right. But I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “I don’t know what I want from you.”

He recoiled slightly at the sudden show of temper.

She continued, in a biting tone, “You keep asking me what you’re supposed to do, how to fix what you broke, as if I’m supposed to know. I don’t know. I didn’t want this. Any of this. I didn’t ask for you to sleep with someone else. I didn’t ask for you to tell the world about it. And I certainly don’t know how to make it better.”

Tears slipped from her eyes as her voice broke. Hamilton looked down at his bare feet on the sidewalk intently, his fist clenched and held to his lips as if trying to stifle any sound or response. She shook her head as she hauled in a breath.

“I love you. I love you so much. And I’m so angry with you, sometimes I want to kill you. I hate what you did. And I’m…I’m so lonely. I just want my husband. I want the man I fell in love with. You look like him, and sound like him, and feel like him, but…but sometimes I feel like you can’t be him.”

He looked at her again. His voice was tight with emotion. “Of course I am.”

“He never could have hurt me so much.”

He made a noise, deep in his throat. “I don’t,” he began, then paused, gathering his thoughts. “Things seemed all right. I don’t understand how everything can seem all right and then you say…you talk about me like I’m a stranger, an imposter wearing your husband’s face.”

“I’m pretending for the children,” she explained simply. He exhaled harshly, as though she’d just struck him. “And for me.”

She held his gaze for a long, silent moment.

“I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want a divorce. I’m trying, too, Alexander.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I want everything to be all right between us, like it was before. I wish I could just forgive you and move on. But it’s not that simple. I want it to be easy. I want to just be in love with you again, but I don’t know how to do that. And it breaks my heart.”

“I’m so sorry, Eliza.”

“I know you are.”

“I love you. Only you. What happened with…it was so long ago, Betsey. That wasn’t me.”

But it was him, she considered with a frown. That was the problem. How was she to reconcile her sweet, tender husband with the deceptive adulterer he’d revealed himself to be?

“I miss you,” he continued. “Even when I’m sitting right next to you, you feel so far away from me.”

Knowing he felt the chasm between them as well did little to make her feel better. She leaned her head against the railing post and closed her eyes. Why did everything between them need to be so hard?

“Should we…talk? About—”

She held up a hand. She could hear her name on his lips without him speaking it. She didn’t want to hear him say it, didn’t want to know the way his subtle West Indian accent sounded around the long ‘i’ in Maria. The sound would haunt her even more than his written words did, late at night when she was alone with her thoughts.

“Not now. Not tonight.”

He nodded again.

“I don’t know when I’ll be ready.”

Their eyes locked. “I can wait. As long as you need.”

A lone carriage came clattering by the house; the curtains were drawn over the windows to the interior and the sleepy driver paid them no notice. Still, Eliza was suddenly conscious of being outside in her nightgown. She rose, wrapping the blanket around herself tightly as she mounted the steps to go back inside.

Alexander stepped inside behind her, closing the front door with a gentle tap and turning the lock. He hesitated in the foyer. “Should I sleep downstairs?”

She looked up at him, torn.

Sighing heavily, he amended his question to a statement. “I’m going to sleep downstairs.”

She pulled the blanket from her shoulders and handed it to him. He took it with a resigned expression. She took in the deep lines on his forehead and the sunken look of his eyes. The exhaustion emanating from him seemed palpable, mixing heavily with an air of dejection. He’d ridden most of the day and half the night, all the way from Connecticut, to get home to their boy, she remembered again.

Stepping towards him, she slowly reached out to place her hands on his shoulders. “I’m very tired and overwrought from the past few days. We shouldn’t…this wasn’t the time to be having this kind of conversation.”

He shook his head a little. “I’m glad we did. I don’t want you to pretend, Eliza. I’d rather know what you’re feeling. Even if the answer is you don’t know what you’re feeling.”

She leaned in and kissed him chastely. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“I love you, Eliza,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she replied easily. The love was always there, always raging through her just as fiercely as all the other emotions within her.

She moved towards the stairs to go to bed.

“Are we going to get through this?” he asked her as she placed her foot of the first step. She could hear the doubt in his voice.

She turned back and gave him the most honest answer she could. “We’re going to try.”

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #hamiliza #historical hamliza #reynolds pamphlet #forgiveness

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boshbashbish · 7 years

Text

false alarm

The stomach pains were unbearable, beyond any physical pain she had ever experienced before. She was sure it was just period cramps, and tried to alleviate the pain by doing what every girl does: painkillers, a hot water bottle draped over her stomach, stretching… you name it, she’d tried it. However, nothing was helping.

“Y/n, I think we should go to the hospital. Three days ago you said that if the pain doesn’t go away within 2 days, you’d go see a doctor. And as far as I’m aware, this is now the third day and your stomach still hurts,” William worried and watched y/n laying on the bed in a fetal position. Her face was all crunched up in pain and he could tell she was having a hard time breathing normally.

“No… I’m already feeling a little better,” she lied and got up, but was wincing so bad that William rolled his eyes.

“Stop lying. I know your scared of needles and doctors and all that, but we’re going to the emergency room. We’ll be back home for dinner.” William helped her to put her shoes on and practically carried her into the car. If only he had known what was going to happen.

4 hours later at the ER, the doctor had taken multiple tests, but none of those explained what was causing the pain. Y/n had been hooked to an IV, and she was given stronger medicine to ease the pain. She was laying peacefully on the hospital bed, the meds making her feel better and better each minute. William rested his head on her legs, and looked exhausted. This was not what he’d had in mind, he had expected the pain to be her appendix which would have been easily treated, so now after multiple tests and check ups he was growing more and more worried.

“Alright, Miss…” the doctor started as he re-entered the room for probably the 13th time at this point. “We are still clueless as to what could be causing the pain you’re feeling. We are going to bring in an ultra sound technician, who is going to check your ovaries for cysts”.

Y/n was nodding along, listening carefully and William just stared at the doctor, unsure of what to say. He wanted to argue like a little kid, ask him questions like “why aren’t you making her feel better”, but knew it would only make the situation worse.

“While you’re here though, is there any chance you could be pregnant? Are you sexually active?” the doctor continued, writing in his little notebook. She glanced at Will, half-expecting him to faint after hearing the word “pregnancy”, but he was showing no emotion, just listening and looking at the doctor.

“Yes, but I’m on birth control,” she replied and was sure she always took the pill at the same exact time each day, to maximise its effectiveness.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, no method of birth control is 100% effective. Even the combination of two different methods does not guarantee anything. I’ll send in a nurse to do an ultra sound checkup,” the doctor smiled and clapped his notebook shut. Will squeezed her hand.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Sort of surprised you’re still here though, I was expecting you to run away when the doctor mentioned pregnancy,” she chuckled and missed the offended look on Will’s face. When she didn’t get a response from him, she turned her head in surprise.

“Why would I have ran away? If we’re pregnant, then we’re pregnant. ” Y/n was taken aback: did he just say “we” and not “you”? She wondered if she had been pumped so full of meds that she was hallucinating. Looking at her stomach she couldn’t help but wonder.

“You want to have a baby?” Now it was William’s turn to be surprised.

“Of course I do and you know that. Not necessarily right now, but if it happens, it happens,” he shrugged. Y/n was now sure she was having a dream, the guy sitting next to her was a far cry from the Will she’d started dating nearly a year ago, who had insisted on getting her on the pill. The look on her face must have given away her astonishment as William gave her a reassuring smile, kissing her forehead.

“Would you really be okay with it if I were pregnant?” she asked quietly, still not believing what he’d said before. He looked really puzzled for a moment, and sighed.

“Of course I would. I mean, it would be a big shock at first, but we would adjust. We’d be fine. We would move to a new house, and paint the baby’s room either pink or blue. We’d attend those parenting classes, and learn how to baby-proof our home. And you’d be glowing the entire time, oh man I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. The baby would start kicking in a few months and we could hear his or her heartbeat. It would be amazing.” Y/n was smiling and smoothed her hand over her stomach. Maybe having a baby with Will wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

The nurse strolled in with a miniature ultrasound machine.

“We just need to roll up your shirt to expose your stomach. The gel I’m going to spread will be cold, just a little heads up,” the nurse smiled and squeezed a small amount of transparent jelly on y/n’s stomach. As soon as the the small nozzle touched her stomach, a heartbeat could be heard.

“There’s a heartbeat?” she gasped and grabbed Will’s hand.

“That’s yours,” the nurse laughed assuring her and kept moving the small nozzle around. She circled around y/n’s lower stomach, and kept looking at the screen. Will had never been as nervous and he let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

“That tiny thing is what is making you feel so terrible,” the nurse nodded and pointed at a small lump. “It’s a cyst. I will have to draw some more blood and run a test to figure out what kind of cyst it is, but you don’t have to be worried. It should go away around the time of your next ovulation,” the nurse explained and started packing up. Y/n’s eyes fell from the screen to the linked hands between her and William.

“I will come back soon to do the blood work. I will also bring you some medicine that you can take home,” the nurse said and pulled the small machine out of the room, leaving Will and y/n alone. For a moment neither of them moved or said anything, until Will coughed.

“Good to finally know for sure what it is…” William sighed and ran his thumb over her knuckles. In a matter of minutes y/n had become excited about having a baby with him, only to be told the “baby” was a fluid filled cyst. She knew it was for the better, both she and William were only in their 20s, but hearing Will describe what their life with a little child would be like had made her hopeful. At least she now knew that if she ever ended up expecting a child, Willy would be okay with it. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed though, and he must have noticed this as he pulled her in a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“One day when the time is right,” she heard him whisper.

#william nylander #toronto maple leafs #toronto marlies #nhl imagines #nhlimagines #williamnylanderimagine

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theartificialdane · 7 years

Text

Nebula: The Courtney chronical

A/N: The Year: 2004. The Place: Brisbane, Australia. Baby Courtney is 11 years old. And she has her first crush. And it is not going well…

(Special thanks to @samrull for providing the inspiration for Courtney’s obsessive desires.)

Written by @veronicasanders ❤️

***

Loving someone from afar was hard work. Ever since Isabelle’s family had moved in the summer before, Courtney had been praying, wishing, hoping against all hope that the older girl would notice her. Would talk to her. Would look in her direction for more than a passing, dismissive glance.

Courtney loved everything about her. From the red streaks in her platinum blonde hair, to her wide hazel eyes, to her sarcastic laugh, to the dimples that appeared in her cheeks when she flashed her crooked smile. She loved how Isabelle didn’t give a fuck what the “popular” kids did, but instead had her own style, her own interests, her own laissez-faire attitude. She kept a leather-bound journal and used to scribble in it angrily, glaring at people when they pissed her off. She told one particularly dickheaded boy in their neighborhood that she was a witch, after she saw him push his sister down a hill. Helping the girl up, she stared at him with daggers in her eyes, swearing to curse him for all eternity unless he apologized.

She was everything.

Of course, a girl like that - the epitome of cool, the queen of counter-culture - that girl had no use for Courtney. Who never spoke up, who never made trouble. Never stood out in any way. Courtney was everything Isabelle was not. Ordinary. Vanilla. Boring.

And then, one day, at the start of Summer holiday, a miracle happened. A bone-fide Christmas miracle. Courtney’s parents decided to take her brother to Sydney to look at colleges (as if Ben was going to college. Courtney’s parents meant well, but they were a little slow on the uptake sometimes), and voila! Suddenly she was staying with Isabelle’s family. Sleeping on a twin bed in her room. For five. Whole. Days.

***

“I hate ALL my clothes!” Isabelle moaned, tossing yet another outfit dramatically to the ground. “I have literally NOTHING to WEAR! This fuckin’ SUCKS!”

Courtney bit her lip. She wanted to offer a solution, but wasn’t 100% sure how a drag closet would be received. “Um...we could go to my house. Ben has some pretty cool shit.”

“Boy clothes?” Isabelle looked skeptical.

“Well...not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s sort of hard to explain.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and sighed, exasperated. “Alright, Miss Mysterious. Let’s go.”

Butterflies filled Courtney’s stomach as they walked outside, through the garden, across the narrow creek, up the hill to Courtney’s house. Courtney led her up the steps to Ben’s room, where giant, dramatic black letters warned them to “KEEP OUT OR SUFFER THE DIRE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!!!” She pushed open the door, feeling more nervous about Isabelle in her house then invading her brother’s sacred personal space.

She slid open the mirrored closet door, revealing the two-third’s of the closet where Ben kept all of his drag stuff. Sequins and feathers and lace...fringe and sparkles and pleather and fishnets. Rows of heels on the floor below the clothes, and stacks of wigs and boxes of jewelry on the shelves above, along with his extensive makeup collection.

Isabelle’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “This is your BROTHER’S stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“So...your brother is gay?”

“Um...yeah.”

Isabelle considered this for a moment, and then nodded approvingly. “That’s cool as.”

Courtney felt a sense of relief wash over her, pride replacing her edgy nerves. “He does my makeup and stuff all the time.”

“Really?! You’re sooo lucky. All my brother cares about is surfing and his dumb motorbike.”

Courtney gestured grandly to the closet. “Well...you can try some of his stuff on if you want.”

Soon enough, they’d both concocted entirely new ensembles. Isabelle in a shiny copper halter top and houndstooth shorts, and Courtney in the more ridiculous outfit that Isabelle had insisted on: a padded, sequined bra and pleather mini-skirt with a fringed bolero jacket. After Isabelle used Ben’s prized palette to add some color to Courtney’s face, all that was left was loading themselves up with every piece of jewelry Ben owned, before collapsing, giggling, onto his bed.

Isabelle gazed around the room at all the pictures on Ben’s walls. She smiled appreciatively at his Moulin Rouge poster, and then her eyes lit up at the shrine to Robbie Williams over his desk.

“Your brother has good taste. I’d give anything to pash Ewan. Or Robbie.”

Courtney nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t sure she saw the allure, exactly. Although she had to admit that Ewan was at least relatively cute, compared to most boys she knew.

“You ever pashed anyone, Courtney?” Isabelle had a slightly teasing lilt to her voice. As if she already knew the answer.

Courtney bristled a little. She was determined not be seen as a baby. “Yes,” she lied.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “Really? Who?”

Thinking quickly, Courtney answered, “Greg.” The tall, soft-spoken boy on her cheer team was always nice to Courtney, and he was clean and didn’t smell nearly as bad as most of the other boys in her class. If she was gonna have to pash any boy, it may as well have been him.

Isabelle burst out laughing. “You sure love the homos, Court. Greg is gay as mardi gras.”

Courtney felt her cheeks heat up. She cleared her throat, racking her brain to try and divert the attention away from herself. “Have...have you pashed anyone?”

“Nope!” Isabelle said. “I want my first time to be magical. Like in the movies. My friends think I’m weird but I don’t care.”

“I...I don’t think that’s weird.” Courtney suddenly wished she hadn’t lied. “I think it’s cool.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not just leaving it up to fate, though. I practice a lot.”

“How do you practice?”

“Like...you know...on your hand, or a pillow, or...you know, with your friends.”

“Your friends?”

Isabelle flashed a crooked smile, revealing those dimples that Courtney wanted to reach out and touch. It took all her strength to keep her hands to herself. “You know...like...girls don’t count. That’s just like, so you can get good at it for when it’s time to kiss a boy. Like, for real.”

Courtney’s palms began to get sweaty, and her mouth was dry as chalk. She swallowed.

“Of course, you don’t need practice, since you’re already an expert. You and Greeeeg.” Isabelle winked and Courtney thought she might die of embarrassment.

“I...may have lied about that,” she whispered.

“No shit,” Isabelle replied, hazel eyes glittering with delight.

Courtney focused away from her eyes, on her shoulders, tanned a deep caramel from the summer sun, such an enticing color that Courtney had a desire to lick her. She heard rustling and felt Isabelle moving closer to her on the bed. She looked up, saw her plush, round, plum-colored lips. She wondered if they would taste like the watermelon candy they’d eaten earlier.

“Do you want me to show you?” Isabelle asked, one finger just barely touching her chin.

Courtney prayed that she didn’t appear overly enthusiastic when she nodded, closing her eyes. And then Isabelle’s soft, moist lips were on hers, and her fingertips itched, tentatively reaching out to graze her bare midriff, circling her waist, just as Isabelle lifted her head.

“Okay, now, remember, I’m the boy,” Isabelle reminded her, rolling Courtney onto her back. “So you need to follow my lead. This time, you gotta open your mouth.”

Courtney nodded, glassy-eyed. At that point she would’ve followed her off a cliff. Her lips parted eagerly and Isabelle slipped her tongue inside, shifting the weight of her body so that she was pressing Courtney down into the mattress.

Hands cupping Courtney’s face, Isabelle murmured soft instructions to her. “Rub your tongue against mine...suck on my bottom lip...squeeze my butt…” Courtney tried to hear and follow as she floated through the clouds, ecstatic and breathless by the sheer proximity of their bodies, bare skin of their bellies pressed together, the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

Skin flushed and burning, Courtney arched her body up, rolling her hips, lifting her knees, rubbing against the older girl, in a state of utter lust, until she was slammed back into reality by the sound of laughter, Isabelle rolling away. “Damn, Courtney. You’re a little nympho, aren’t you?”

Courtney raised herself onto her elbows, panting, hair falling into her eyes. She tried to catch her breath, watching Isabelle straighten her top and fix her lipstick, at a loss for words.

“It’s cool if I borrow these clothes, right? I’m meeting Megan and Zoe at the mall.”

“Y-yeah. It’s cool.”

“Great. See you later!”

***

By dinnertime, Courtney was still too embarrassed to join the family. She told Mrs. Peterson that she had a stomachache. Did Isabelle think she was...what did Isabelle think?

It turned out that her fears were for naught. Isabelle didn’t seem to think anything at all about her. She spent the next few days out with her friends, mostly, and when Courtney’s mom came to pick her up that Saturday, she merely gave her a casual wave and a “see you around,” barely looking up from the fashion magazine in her lap.

They didn’t see each other much over the next school year, either, since Isabelle was in the High School and Courtney was still in Primary. It was probably for the best when her family moved again the following summer. After seeing her boyfriend dropping her off a few times, Courtney knew that there would be no more “practicing” required, and she couldn’t bear those knowing smirks Isabelle would toss her way on the rare occasion she actually acknowledged her existence. Like she KNEW something.

She didn’t know anything.

With Isabelle gone, it was much easier for Courtney to paint on a smile and be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the little angel that everyone wanted her to be. And over the next few years, the sharp pain Courtney felt every time she thought about the older girl faded into a dull ache, a small, insignificant scar on her psyche that she barely remembered, a part of who she was without ever thinking about it.

Although occasionally, the kissing lessons did come in handy.

#galactica #au aag verse #nebula #rpdr fanfction #my fics

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shotgunsandstars · 7 years

Text

Back for More 87

Red herring, it’s what’s for dinner

If you’re reading this here or over on AO3 a reblog to share would be super cool.

AO3 mirror

The car still wasn’t in the driveway when Desmond got home. He texted his dad asking as he got off his bike. Where were they? As he did he saw Duncan had replied to him. ‘/Jaimie/ thinks you both look very cute together’.

Desmond snorted. ‘Sure she does.’

He unlocked the door, reading some more texts from Altair, so not paying attention at all, when he almost ran into someone. “Desmond!”

He jerked to a stop with a start. “Mom?” he asked, his heart hammering.

“Where have you been, young man?” Chloe demanded, hands on her hips.

“I went out for lunch with my friends,” he stammered.

“You didn’t leave a note. You didn’t text or call.”

“I did. I did! Uh—“ he opened his message with his mom on his phone. “See. I totally texted you.” Desmond could not handle when his mom went all super parent on him. His dad he could deal with because he knew what to expect from his dad. He was just a grumpy white dude. His half hispanic mother? Desmond hadn’t really known spanish as a kid but he sure knew when his mom had scolded Duncan or Dylan in Spanish so bad they’d literally turned inside out. She was a super nice lady ninty percent of the time unless she thought her sons were acting up or were in trouble. He’d also seen her go off on one of Duncan’s old principals when he’d gotten into a fight with some kid who’d called him a faggot.

She’d never had to yell at Desmond. Partially because he was her baby and partially because he was never got in trouble because he was so boring. He had no idea how to handle his mom when she got ‘protective Spanish mom’ on him but apparently, it was to make himself look as innocent as possible.

She narrowed her eyes a little and took his phone. “Did you get your father’s texts?”

“No,” Desmond shook his head quickly. “Last time I heard from dad was when I asked about having the sleepover.”

She looked over his phone and he peered over to make sure she wasn’t noticing his conversation with Altair. The texts had been fairly innocent but not all of them were. Instead, she just went to his conversation with William to check to make sure he wasn’t lying. Desmond licked his lips, waiting. “Okay,” she said and handed him his phone back. Then she hugged him and that was a bit unexpected. “I was so worried. You weren’t answering us.”

“Sorry. I was literally just here and then I went to lunch and came right back,” Desmond hugged her back. “I was wondering where you guys were too.”

“We went to the store.” She let him go. “Did you actually cook yourself breakfast this morning? I noticed some things were missing.”

“Uh- erm… my friend Altair likes to cook and insisted he make breakfast.”

Chloe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Ha, you should get some pointers from him then.”

“Ah… yeah. Probably.”

“You’re home for the rest of the day?”

“Proooobably,” he said. Well there went going to hang out with Altair before work. “I have homework.”

“And your chores,” she reminded him sternly.

“Yeah. I didn’t forget,” he said. “Also me and my friends were going to go up to Sugarloaf tomorrow and do some fishing.”

“You won’t be bridge jumping, will you? You know I hate when you do that,” she said, voice full of concern.

“Ahhhh…

“Desmond,” she said sternly.

“I mean Clay might. I won’t,” he said and at the moment meant it.

“Good. I’m glad you’re going to spend time with all your friends. Seems like you only spend time with Clay anymore. Are they still doing well?”

“Yeah,” Desmond said. He felt so awkward lying to his mom. And poor Clay. He’d used him as an excuse since he and Altair had started dating to stay out late or spend the night somewhere. Was a great excuse but there was a reason his friends had had an ‘intervention’.

“Good.”

“I’m gonna go work on my homework. I have an evil English essay to do,” he groaned.

“It isn’t due on Monday is it?” Chloe asked with a knowing look of disapproval.

“No. It’s due next Monday. I’m just making myself suffer two weekends writing it instead of one.”

That made his mom laugh a little. “Alright. Well, I’m glad you weren’t purposefully ignoring us.”

“No way. I always respond to texts.” That wasn’t even a lie. He did. At least if he could and wasn’t at work or school.

With that, he went to his room and sat on his bed. “Holy shit,” he said to himself. Why had that made him so nervous? Probably because he’d seen what his mom did to Duncan when he would fuck off for the day. Or maybe cause he knew he could have been in actual trouble for skipping school on Friday and that would have been grounds for disappointment and probably grounding. Not to mention he hated lying to his mom. His dad he could do but his mom? She was just so great he felt so bad when he lied to her.

He opened his conversation with Altair. ‘Don’t think I can come over before work. Sorry :,c’

‘After work?’

‘My parents thought I was ignoring them so I don’t wanna push my luck’ ‘I’m going fishing with friends tomorrow though!’

‘Okay’

‘Wanna come?’

‘Fishing?’ ‘Where?’

‘Down at Sugarloaf’ ‘Lucy told me to invite you’

Altair didn’t respond right away. Desmond got up and went to his desk and opened his still shiny and new Macbook from Christmas to work on his essay and basically use it to cheat at math because he hated writing out the proofs for things when he could just do the problems. He’d start on the math first since that could be done rather quickly. He turned on some music as he worked and then his phone made Altair’s text tone.

‘Where are you going to fish?’

‘Off the bridge’

More silence. Maybe he was busy. Desmond went back to his math and had done half of the problems before Altair texted him again. ‘Wanna use my boat?’

Desmond cocked his head to the side. ‘What?’

‘I have a boat’

‘I know you have a boat’

‘Instead of bridge fishing we could just use my boat’ ‘If you wanted to’

‘Seriously?’

‘Sure’

Desmond immediately opened the big conversation he had with his friends. ‘Yoooooooooooo. Altair is offering a boat for the fishing tomorrow’

Clay replied, basically, instantly. ‘He’s got a boat?!?!!?!??!?!’

‘That’s super cool!’ Rebecca replied shortly after.

‘What do you think?’ Desmond asked them. ‘Boat instead of bridge?’

‘Fuck yeah!’

‘Hell yeah!’

‘So I have to drive all the way up to stock island? Uuuuuuuuhg’ Shaun finally chimed in.

‘Shaun fuck off we’re getting a /boat/‘ Clay said. ‘Rebecca tell your boyfriend to stop being a wet blanket’

The conversation was quiet for a little bit and then Lucy finally got around to reading it. ‘I’m cool with the boat idea.’

‘F I N E’ Shaun said.

‘Got him to agreeeeeee <3’ ‘thank me later’

‘Okay. I’ll tell him,’ Desmond told them.

‘Yaaaaa!’

‘Boat boat boat boat boat boat boat boat’

Desmond laughed and went back to his conversation with Altair even as he kept getting messages from the others as they talked about things. ‘Everyone thinks it’s really awesome you’re offering to let us use your boat’

‘k’

‘Unless you don’t want to now?’

‘No. It’s fine.’ ‘It’s fine.’

‘You sure?’ ‘You don’t have to hang out with me and my friends if you don’t want to’

‘I do’

‘Okay. So long as you’re okay’

There was a long bit of no response and Desmond checked the other conversation. It was practically a wall of text of everyone deciding on what to do and talking about food and drinks and who was bringing a cooler and if they should bring snorkel gear. Desmond just muted the conversation so he could keep working on his math homework. He’d finished it and was working on the research for his essay when Altair texted him again.

‘You sure you don’t wanna come over today? I’m kinda nervous’

‘I’ll try and come by for a few minutes before work. How’s that?’ Desmond texted back with a bit of a smile. He certainly hadn’t been lying about Altair being awkward. He was basically agreeing to be out in the middle of the ocean with a bunch of people he didn’t really know.

‘k’

Desmond did research and an hour before he had to do his chores so he’d be done with them before work. He took out the trash and cleaned his room and spot cleaned his bathroom. Then he took a shower and put on his work clothes so he could leave early. His mom had food for him before he left and he scarfed that down too before saying his shift was earlier than usual today and ducked out.

He rang the doorbell at Altair’s house and Altair let him in. “I can’t stay super long but I’m here,” he said as Altair closed the door behind him. “Your gramps home?”

“No. He’ll be home tomorrow though.”

“Oh good,” Desmond said and wrapped his arms around Altair’s neck. “You’re really nice letting me and my friends use your boat,” he said, smiling. “They’re all super excited about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh! And plus side; I’m gonna be shirtless alllllllll day.” He laughed when Altair’s eyes got all glassy as he thought about it.

“Okay. I like this idea more,” Altair said.

“And they all get to be jealous cause my boyfriend is obviously the hottest one there,” he kissed Altair on the nose. “I mean it’s not even a competition.”

“Well that’s not true,” Altair said. Desmond rose his brows at him questioningly. “Cause I am gonna have the hottest boyfriend there.”

“I mean… I’m not going to argue that point,” Desmond said. He unwound his arms from around Altair’s neck and pulled out his phone. “But really, they’re all super excited.” He pulled Altair over to the living room to sit. “Freaking Lucy has been asking me how big it.”

“Thirty feet,” Altair said.

He typed that in to tell them. “And they’re all talking about food and drinks and who’s bringing what.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Desmond nodded.

“Wow. Your friends are way better at this than mine. Whenever my friends go out on a boat they never bring anything and only don’t get dehydrated cause I bring water with me.”

“Really guys?” he groaned when a few new texts came in.

“What?”

“Clay said, ‘I didn’t know Altair had thirty feet.’ Rebecca said, ‘Well we know what Desmond likes at least’.”

“Your friends are weird,” Altair said.

“Yeah, they are,” Desmond sighed.

“They’re bringing food?”

“Yeah. From what I see mostly chips and snacks.”

“How long do they think this is going to be? And when are we going out?”

“Why?”

“Well it’s my boat. I kinda need to know, need to make sure I bring enough gas and water and all that.”

“I’ll ask them.” He did so and waited for them to argue it out. “Still feel nervous?”

“I’m always nervous.”

“That’s not nervous, that’s anxiety and totally different.”

“I don’t want it to be awkward, that’s all. I know what your friends think of me. Jock with too much money.”

“Which you are.”

“And they’re a bunch of nerds who play D&D-

“Which your friends also do,” Desmond pointed out.

“Yeah but my friends aren’t losers,” Altair said giving him a look.

“Mmmmm, fair enough,” Desmond agreed. His phone had been going the entire time. He looked down at it. “They’re thinking ten thirtyish to two or three depending on how far out we go. How’s that sound?”

“Okay.”

Desmond told them it sounded good and his phone vibrated for a solid minute straight after that. “They’re really excited,” he told Altair with a chuckle.

“I can tell,” Altair said. “When do you have to go?”

“Mmm, ten minutes.”

“Alright.”

“You literally spent all day with me yesterday. I think you can manage,” Desmond rolled his eyes a little. “And you’re gonna see me tomorrow too. I think you’re pretty set.”

“I guess,” Altair said morosely. “I just like seeing you all the time.”

“That’s pretty gay.”

“I’m literally. Your. Boyfriend,” Altair gave him a look and Desmond laughed.

Desmond gave Altair a vague play by play of the text conversation that was still going on and eventually Altair just pulled him into his lap to read over his shoulder. If nothing else Desmond was glad his friends were excited enough to not need his input in any way. All he had to do was show up. This only lasted so long before Desmond untangled himself from Altair saying he had to go to work. Altair walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye which was lovely. “You’re gonna spoil me,” Desmond said when they finished.

“Hmm?”

“Just how sweet and nice you are to me. I’m gonna be so spoiled.”

“Good,” Altair said and kissed him again. “You should be.”

Desmond had to drag himself away and got on his bike. He felt Altair watching him from the doorway. He looked back and waved, Altair waved back, before riding off and heading for work.

#assassin's creed #altair ibn la-ahad #desmond miles #altdes #fanfiction

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 7 years

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Warm Me Up pt 16

Click Here for Ch. 1 Click Here for Ch. 5

Click Here for Ch. 2 Click Here for Ch. 6

Click Here for Ch. 3 Click Here for Ch. 7

Click Here for Ch. 4 Click Here for Ch. 8

Click Here for Ch. 9 Click Here for Ch. 13

Click Here for Ch. 10 Click Here for Ch. 14

Click Here for Ch. 11 Click Here for Ch. 15

Click Here for Ch. 12

The piercing ring of a cell phone made Nico sit up in bed so fast he felt dizzy. He groaned as the sunlight filtered through his French windows and staggered over to shut the curtains, making his room dark again. He stumbled around, his head throbbing as he searched for his phone.

The screen was bright, and he winced, but Nico answered and grumbled a tired, “Hello?”

“Are you sober now?” came Will’s crisp, angry voice.

Nico fell back into his bed, shutting his eyes. “Yes, I think so,” he answered.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “So, how many people did you make out with last night?”

The first thing that came to mind was to shout, “None!” But then he realized he barely remembered what happened. But it hadn’t been very good the entire time. He remembered the alcohol hitting him hard, he remembered panicking, he remembered stumbling. He had no idea who had made him panic or how he got home, or what time he’d gotten home.

“I didn’t kiss anyone,” he finally answered. “Thanks for thinking that of me.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t turn this on me. I know you! I know how you get when you’re drunk!” Nico winced as he shouted and groaned into a pillow. “Are you even fucking awake?”

“Stop screaming at me!” he shouted back, despite his headache.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did your excursion last night leave you fucked up and confused? Then maybe you should stop getting so drunk any time you get the chance!”

“Oh my God, Will! I’m sorry that I don’t have a fucking stick up my ass that keeps me from having fun sometimes, okay? Yeah I drank, so fucking what? I’m a teenager, I want to have fun! It was fucking New Year’s- everyone gets drunk!”

There was a long pause on the phone, but Will hadn’t hung up. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispered so softly Nico barely heard him. His breaths hollowed and a heavy feeling settled in his chest. “No, I don’t need alcohol to have a decent time, Nico. I thought maybe you didn’t anymore either. But I was wrong. Feel better.”

“Will, wait,” he pleaded. “Look, I’m sorry that I upset you, okay? But me getting drunk… it’s just my thing. It doesn’t mean I’m hooking up with someone.”

“Right,” he muttered. “Last I checked, hooking up was your thing too.” Nico’s lips parted in shock and he was about to answer, when Will said, “Look, it just feels like… you’re not telling me something. Either something happened last night or over the last week-”

“Baby, nothing happened,” he insisted. “Don’t you trust me?”

There was a silence too long for comfort. “I… I don’t know yet.” Nico opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling dumbly. He didn’t answer, but the heavy feeling in his increased tenfold.

He took a breath and clenched his jaw. Without another word, he hung up and tossed his phone to the floor carelessly. He rolled over and fell back asleep, hoping to get rid of his headache and his thoughts.

When the call ended, Will stared at his phone. He sighed and went back inside, shrugging his jacket off. His parents noticed his distressed expression but didn’t comment. He tossed his jacket over the couch and sat down for a late breakfast with his family.

“Are you okay, Will?” Kayla asked. He smiled and nodded at her. “Want some pancakes?”

“Definitely.” Thankfully, his parents allowed him to pretend nothing was wrong, but Will couldn’t help the embarrassment. He’d spent so much time telling his parents how great Nico was, and now he was arguing with him over the phone.

He wanted to talk to Percy. He wanted to hear his side. Maybe it was wrong that he didn’t trust Nico, but he had his reasons. Nico had been known for messing around with people. He was known to become flirty when he was intoxicated. He was in a city, hours away, not having to see Will every day. And if he was totally honest, Will wouldn’t blame him if he had kissed someone else. If he’d kissed someone more attractive, someone who was a better kisser, someone who drank as much as him, who was as careless as him. That’s what hurt the most. Knowing how stale he was in comparison to anyone else Nico could come across.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when his mom’s voice cut through Kayla’s mindless chatter. “William Solace, when did you start smoking?” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her in confusion.

“What? I don’t smoke.” Her jaw tensed and she held out his jacket. He frowned then realized what had happened. “Oh. Oh crap. No, Mom, it’s not me. Nico smokes. I guess the smell sort of rubbed off. I haven’t washed that jacket.”

She arched an eyebrow and frowned. “He smokes?” Will nodded and she sighed, her eyes widening momentarily as if to say, Well then.

Will didn’t bother defending Nico at the moment. He was still upset. He helped clean up and went to his backyard where a large black dog was anxious to meet him. “Down, girl,” he said tiredly. Her tail wagged slower, sensing his mood. He sat in a chair and his dog laid across his feet obnoxiously. He pulled out his phone and sent Percy a message on Facebook asking for his number.

When he got his number, he called and drummed his fingers on the arm of the lawn chair. “Hey,” he greeted. “Um…. Could you tell me what happened yesterday? All of it. Please.”

“Have you talked to Nico?” he answered. “I really don’t want to be the cause of problems.”

Will took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. “So there’s a reason for a problem,” he deducted.

“Shit,” Percy sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you what happened. But for any questions, you’ll have to ask Nico, because I wasn’t with him the whole time.” Will’s stomach clenched. He hummed in agreement, not trusting himself to speak. “So, he seemed upset about something because by the time we met up at the club he was already drinking. When we got in, it seemed to hit him really fast. He was fine and everyone in the club was dancing. Out of nowhere, he pulled me away and was freaking out because some girl tried to kiss him. He said he’d pushed her away, but he was scared because he didn’t know if that meant he’d cheated since he didn’t even want to kiss her. He kept saying he didn’t want to do that to you, so I calmed him down and said that as long as he hadn’t kissed back and hadn’t wanted to kiss her, it wasn’t cheating. Right?”

“Mhm,” he answered unable to unclench his jaw. Nothing happened, baby.

“Um, okay,” he continued. “So I got him to calm down and I had him sit for a while. I told him no more drinking and he agreed. I went to keep dancing with some of Nico’s old high school friends. I went to get a drink and I saw someone with him. Uh….”

He stopped talking and seemed unsure of whether or not he should go on. “Go on,” he muttered.

Percy sighed and stuttered for a bit. “It was this guy that Nico used to have a little thing with. Not dating, but you know, messing around, I…. Are you sure you want me to-”

“Percy, just tell me,” he snapped. He sighed and rested his head on his hand. “I’m sorry. Please. Tell me.”

There was a slight pause before Percy continued. “The guy was kissing his neck, groping him. But Nico was trying to push him away. He didn’t look comfortable. So I went over and stopped it. I helped him get away. Will, I’ve seen Nico drunk before. That’s when he’s most careless. He lets anyone do anything. I’ve seen it happen before.” Will grimaced and felt tears sting the back of his eyes. “But he wasn’t like that yesterday. I could see it in his face. He wanted to get away, he was just too drunk to fight back.” He hummed, an indifferent sound to mask the pain he was feeling. On the one hand, Nico had lied. On the other, something horrible could’ve happened, and Will was grateful it hadn’t. But then what did this mean about Nico’s drunk adventures now? Would someone always try to come onto him? What if there was no one to stop it the way Percy had?

“And then?” he asked hollowly.

“And then I stayed with him. I didn’t let him out of my sight. He wanted to dance, he wanted to forget those people. Then I went to call Annabeth and kept him with me. Then you called and he was just stumbling in the bathroom. I took him home and that was it.” Will sighed and rubbed his eyes before tears actually fell. He felt so pathetic. “He was trying so hard to be good yesterday, Will. For you.”

“Mm. Yeah, he messed up when he started drinking.”

There was a pause. And then, “Nico drinks, Will. And you know that. You knew it when you started talking to him, when you started dating him. Usually the guy drinks until he passes out cold with his head in a toilet. In comparison, he barely drank yesterday. And I think it’s for the same reason. He wanted to be conscious enough to behave himself. None of it was his fault. People come on to Nico all the time. But that doesn’t mean he pays attention to them.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Percy. For telling me, and for keeping him safe yesterday.” He sniffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Happy New Year’s.”

“Happy New Year, Will. And I know it’s not my business, but…. Nico’s always been really bad at socializing and emotions and interaction. Don’t be too hard on him when he puts his foot in his mouth.” Will scoffed lightly and stared at the ground. “Bye.”

“Bye.” He hung up and whistled for his dog, petting her head when she perked up. The weather here was way more bearable than it had been back at school.

Behind him, the door opened and his dog left him to greet whoever had decided to step outside. A few moments later, another chair was pulled up in the dirt beside him and his father sat down. For a while, they didn’t say anything. Then, “Want to talk about it?” Will glanced at him and remained silent. “I know I’m your dad, and kids don’t really talk about relationships with their parents, but… I also know this is the first time you’ve told us you’re dating someone. I know it must be new and that you must be worried.” Will started biting his nail and looked at the overgrown yard and half-bare trees.

“I just don’t want you to think he’s not a good person,” he answered. “Because he is. He’s just… so stupid sometimes.”

“You mean he’s a teenager,” his father laughed. “Son, I was too at one point. Underage drinking, fake ID’s, fights. I know.” He nudged him lightly and smiled. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Will hesitated for a second before it all spilled. How Nico had been known for his fickle ways, how it had been a total shock to Will that Nico liked him, how they seemed to argue more than most couples did in their first month. Then he explained the drinking. He didn’t tell him why he used to drink until he blacked out. He only said he liked to get drunk sometimes and it worried Will. He told him what Percy had said about people coming onto him, and how he tried getting away instead of giving in like before. He told him what Nico had said that morning- that nothing had happened, that he hadn’t kissed anyone, that Will had a stick up his ass.

“He asked me if I trusted him,” he said finally. He looked at his hands and frowned. “And I said I didn’t know.” He looked up at his father who looked at him understandingly. “He’s never given me a reason not to trust him before. He’s always been pretty honest.”

“So what’s keeping you from trusting him?” He shrugged and his father leaned forward. It was a stance that Will knew as the Psychologist Stance. “You’ve given me several reasons that make you nervous or uneasy about this relationship. You’ve told me several things that reassure you and seem to make it worth your while. So, as a father I’m slightly concerned.” Will felt his stomach drop and he shook his head. “No?”

“No, Dad. He’s a good person. He really is. He has problems, he makes stupid choices sometimes, I know. And yeah it scares me. But he’s really sweet and he’s trying, I know that. He’s smart, he’s caring, he’s considerate. He’s impulsive sometimes, but it’s good for me. He’s good for me. It’s not his fault I’m so afraid.” His father looked at him curiously. Will looked away and thought of his boyfriend. “I know him better than anyone else, Dad. He’s told me things that nobody else knows. And I promise you, I have never met anyone… as beautiful as him. In every way. It’s not just how he looks, it’s his entire being.” He felt his cheeks tinge. “It’s not his fault I get paranoid. He’s a good person. And I love being with him. I love making him laugh and doing silly little things with him.” He smiled fondly at the memory of them dancing around the trees, at their adventures to find a park and to make smores, of the day he rode a motorcycle for the first time. “I’m in love with him,” he whispered, not looking at his father.

“In love?” he repeated, only the slightest undertone of shock in his voice.

“I think so.”

“That’s a big word, Will.” Will sighed and kept his eyes away from his father, feeling the blush in cheeks like a fire to announce his embarrassment. “Is he really that special for you, son?”

Will nodded without hesitation. “I know we’re different. And when you see us next to each other, you’ll be even more surprised, no doubt. But he’s good for me. When I’m with him, I don’t feel like I need to please everybody. I don’t feel scared to speak my mind. I feel… like myself. And I feel needed.” He shrugged. “Away from him… I can’t help but think someone would try to steal him away, you know? Because he’s the guy everyone wants for one reason or another.” He bit his lip and shrugged. “I don’t know why he chose me. But I’m glad he did. Don’t let this change your idea of what he’s like, Dad. Please. And Mom, I know she’s really protective. I don’t want her hating him just because we argued.”

A strong hand rested on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to her. Meanwhile, I think you know what to do now. Don’t you?” Will bit his lip and nodded. He stood and patted Will’s shoulder before heading back inside.

Will stood up and started walking in circles in his yard. The wind picked up, making him wish he had brought his jacket. His dog followed him at first, then after realizing they weren’t going to play, she sat and stared at him as he continued to walk.

Nico was flipping through channels in the second story living room, trying to ignore the awkwardness of his father’s girlfriend sitting in the other couch. His father was making brownies downstairs. Nico hadn’t had brownies in years. Not since Mamma had passed away. He hated the fact that his father was making them now that this woman was here.

Suddenly, his phone rang and he checked his phone surprised to see Will’s name on the screen. He stood, leaving the remote on the coffee table, and dashed up the stairs as he answered. “Hey. I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“We’re dating,” he answered, his voice quavering slightly. “We kind of have to talk.”

“Are you crying?” he asked, feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“No. No, I’m just… outside. I didn’t get my jacket. I’m a little cold.” Nico was overwhelmed with the urge to hold him. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” he admitted.

“Take some medicine for the hangover.”

“No,” he protested. “Not for the hangover. I’ve had worse ones. I feel shitty because of our last conversation.”

“Ah.” He stayed quiet for a moment. “Um. So… about last night. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember tipping the bouncer to let me in with the bottle of whiskey I’d bought.” He heard Will groan. “Sorry. I remember going inside and dancing. It’s all really blurry. I know Percy took care of me though. I was good, Will. I really was.”

There was a silence on his side. It made Nico nervous. “You promise?” he asked.

“Yes!” He was desperate for Will to believe him. He didn’t remember much, but he knew he wouldn’t do that to Will even if he was drunk.

“I think you should ask Percy to remind you of a few things,” he whispered. Nico frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Another pause. “Why didn’t you call me? I thought maybe you were angry, but you sounded relieved when you picked up.”

“I-I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. I thought you’d be angrier if I tried to call,” he answered. It wasn’t a question he expected.

To his surprise, Will chuckled. “Honestly, it freaked me out more that you didn’t call.” Nico blinked and sat on his bed, tugging on the end of a pillow. “You’ve done that all break. That’s why I figured… you’d be with someone else. I thought you’d gotten tired of me.”

Nico’s eyes widened and he immediately refuted the idea. “No! No, of course not, baby. Not talking to you sucks. But I figured you wouldn’t want me calling and texting you all day. You have a family that is happy to have you home, I didn’t want to take that from you. I didn’t want to… I don’t know, get annoying I guess?”

Will chuckled nervously and groaned. “I think we need to work on communication.”

“And trust,” he added. “I want you to trust me.”

“I do,” he promised. “I trust you. I just get scared. Ask Percy, you’ll see.”

Nico cleared his throat and frowned. “Yeah, about that. What do you mean?” Will didn’t answer. Nico grit his teeth and sighed. “Did you… call him? Ask him what happened last night?”

“Yeah.” Nico sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Hadn’t he just said that he trusted him? What had Nico done to make him feel like he couldn’t?

He had a messy past, but he’d always told Will the truth when he asked for it. He didn’t have a reason to have secrets. He swallowed his pride and frustration. “Okay. So where do we stand?”

“I’ll trust you. And you’ll call me more. And stop getting drunk. For my sake.”

Nico’s eyebrows went up and he shoved the idea of getting drunk for spite to the back of his mind. “I can do that. If you can too.”

“Deal,” he answered. “Nico?” He hummed. “I miss you. So much.”

The tenderness in his voice melted away Nico’s remaining frustration. He smiled and felt his cheeks turn red. “I miss you more. I can’t wait to see you again.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck tiredly. “I’ll let you go. I promise I’ll call more often. I’m sorry I worried you. And I won’t drink.”

“Thank you. I’ll talk to you later, darling. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” He hung up and frowned at his phone. He looked out at his window and tried to remember something from the night before. Something that had caused his panic. When he couldn’t, he dialed Percy and asked if he could meet with him.

A few hours later, Nico went down to the park where he sat on a bench and looked around at the snow and the runners. Percy came up and sat beside him. “How bad was the hangover?”

“In comparison, pretty small,” he said. He looked at him curiously. “Will said you had something to tell me about last night?” Percy’s smile melted away and he looked at a the sidewalk in front of them. “He told me he called you about last night. What’d you tell him? He wasn’t angry with me, so I assume it’s good?”

“Uh. I guess. In a way?” He sighed and slouched, extending his legs. “I just told him that even though people came onto you, you wouldn’t pay attention. You kept freaking out, saying you didn’t want to cheat on Will and stuff.” He shrugged.

That wasn’t all. And Nico could tell by the way Percy’s uneasy expression remained. There was more, and he wasn’t telling him. “What else, Percy?” He hesitated and Nico crossed his arms, getting angry. “Come on. You told him, why aren’t you telling me? And I know you told him, I could tell by the way he kept asking if I remembered.” His emerald eyes flickered to him, and Nico arched an eyebrow expectantly.

He looked away and pulled his beanie lower. “A girl you were dancing with kissed you. And you freaked out and pushed her away because you were scared it meant you cheated. You didn’t kiss her back. Then I had you sit away from the dancing and… Lucas found you.”

“Lucas?” he repeated.

“He was trying to get you to mess around with him again. And you kept saying no, you kept trying to push him away, but you had terrible coordination and lacked a lot of strength. I was dancing, so I don’t know how long he’d been… trying to touch you when I got you away.”

“He… he was what?” Nico growled.

Percy grimaced. “I just saw his hand at your jeans and he was kissing your neck. But like I said, you were trying to push him.”

Nico felt anger flare in him. It changed his blood into fire, and he started shaking with all the pent up energy. He clenched his jaw and glared at the empty space in front of him, his breaths uneven. “I’m going to tear him apart,” he growled. Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you. For helping me. You’re a good friend.”

He seemed to relax and he put a hand on his shoulder. “No problem, Nico. So is everything okay with you and Will?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But I’d feel better if I could see him.” He sighed and Percy chuckled, patting his shoulder sympathetically.

Click Here for Ch. 17

#solangelo #breathe me #will solace #nico di angelo #feedback please!#inbox #thoughts #reblog #pjo #fanfic #fanfiction #it can't all be happy cuddles #uh oh #sorry for typos

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dallastx-rp · 5 years

Photo

Name: Victoria Williams Gender: Female she/her Date of birth: September 7th, 1992 (27) Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Emergency Nurse Hometown: Leavenworth, WA Neighborhood: Highland Park Time in Dallas: Three Months Faceclaim: Katie Stevens

Biography

tw: death, tw: cancer

Victoria had a reasonably easy childhood. Divorced parents and a small town life, but that was about it. She did well in school, excelled in extracurricular activities, you could almost say she was the perfect child. It was only when she got older things got rocky. Her mother, Norelle always favoured her older sister and jealousy nearly always got the best of Tori, after she completed nursing school and finally got her own independence - even cutting her mother off for a number of years and her sister too. It was only a couple of years until they decided to reconnect, Victoria learned that her mother had terminal breast cancer, so whilst struggling work she decided to take full care of her mother. Norelle confessed that she didn’t want the cancer to win and wanted to end her life. Of course she was heart broken but she could tell her mother was not going to change her mind.

When Tori’s sister learned of Norelle’s death all hell broke loose. Julia was quick to blame Victoria and she ended up going to the police which left Tori suspended from work and struggling to make ends meat all whilst grieving the death of her mother. It was a couple months before it went to court. Luckily for Victoria they sided with her and the charges were dropped. There was no contact between her and Julia, neither of them could forgive each other for what they did so, they both moved on with their lives.

Tori found peace with a guy named James. He was troubled, a little bit of a bad boy and on the wrong side of the law but they were literally made for each other. Always worked through their problems, always having fun. Always making each other laugh. She decided to marry him after a week of knowing him, but that didn’t change their relationship whatsoever, if anything it just made them closer. After being together a year, Victoria decided to reconnect with her sister after finding out she’d recently become married to a guy named Daniel. Once the sisters reunited it was almost as if nothing had ever happened and their relationship was better than ever. During this time Victoria learned that she was infertile and Julia even offered to be their surrogate. A few days after she found out she was pregnant, Daniel decided to take his wife away for a couple of days, but they didn’t get too far because on the way to their destination they had a car accident and Julia passed away. When Tori found out her unborn baby and sister were gone her heart was utterly broken, but with James by her side she never questioned her willpower to get through this. Daniel, Julia’s husband was still a huge part of her life. Not only did he work at the same hospital but he was her brother in law, all Victoria wanted was to make sure he was okay. But Daniel kept moving closer than he should have, driving a wedge between her and James’ marriage even though she insisted nothing was going on. Eventually, James had enough and left.

Heartbroken again, Victoria had quickly gotten over her feelings towards James and moved onto her feelings towards Daniel which she had been hiding up until this point. Again, within weeks of being in a relationship they were engaged even though most people warned her off Daniel. The only person who couldn’t see straight through his manipulative lies was Tori. Deep down, she knew that Daniel wasn’t a good person but she stayed. It was the day of the honeymoon she realised. Whilst they were driving out of town, his attitude changed. He admitted to killing Julia and told Victoria she already knew but loved him anyway. This left her terrified and it wasn’t long before he took action. He crashed the car over a cliff but she survived. The car was on fire and all she could see through flames was her new husband asking for help. Reluctantly she pulled him out of the fire and called for help. A switch changed in Tori on the way to the hospital. It wasn’t just anger, it was rage and she was absolutely traumatised. It was touch and go for a while but Daniel ended up surviving and Tori still hadn’t gone to the police because she wanted to be the one who ended it and she did. In the dead of night, Tori climbed on top of her husband and suffocated him - her revenge for her sister, baby and self.

Things didn’t just go back to normal for the young woman. Nobody questioned the death of Daniel but they did question her mental state. She was suffering from ptsd. Wanting to protect everyone and anything around her and if you were a piece of shit, well, Victoria wouldn’t hesitate to let you know. Shortly after dumping his ashes down a toilet, she learnt that Daniel had insured both of them before he died. So she inherited millions of dollars. It wasn’t long before people she was close to got too nosy, and she decided she needed to leave, so she packed up and came to Dallas.

Personality

Loyal, hard-working, passionate. Cold, bitter, unpredictable.

Aesthetics

kind of overworked, not taking any bullshit, secretive whispering, heavy perfume, binge watching Christmas movies, too many espresso martini’s, dainty tattoos, expensive jewellery, tears at two am.

— Victoria is penned by Sammy.

#victoria williams #highland park #female #*residents

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