my best judgement signed its resignation.

fic rec -> conditions of absolute reality by @au-palais

This house, their house, now, as he kept having to correct himself—rose out of the ground like something huge and ancient, like it had been here forever and the world had grown itself around the intrusion. It was massive, almost as big as the Durham house in square footage, but it seemed so much bigger from the outside. It had been well kept—no peeling paint, no errant shutters—but it still gave the impression of disrepair, of something abandoned, in ruin. Next to him, in the driveway, Saxon huffs a laugh. "Well, isn't this something." - The fall of the house of Ratliff.

the ratliffs in a haunted house? literally everything i've ever wanted. the atmosphere is perfect, the story line compelling. it just ticks all the right boxes for me.

this skin is your skin, these hands your hands

Lochlan's hands are cold. Saxon warms them up.