Step into a world of elemental magic, where a kidnapped princess meets her match in the one keeping her captive.
Phoenix Caged is a dark romantic fantasy and second book in the Hiraeth Song series.
Available now! On Amazon, Barns & Noble and more!
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@valerienrhapsody
Step into a world of elemental magic, where a kidnapped princess meets her match in the one keeping her captive.
Phoenix Caged is a dark romantic fantasy and second book in the Hiraeth Song series.
Available now! On Amazon, Barns & Noble and more!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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ALL HAIL OCTOBUTT!
This is the ideal gymnast body. You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like...
Natalie Mâphylgwnth from Carcosa just finished her beam routine, which has left another judge screaming and blind. Weâre going to take a break as they look for another volunteer.
One just turns into 8 girls.
To all who support writers and artists by sharing their creations
Youâre not suck-ups for reblogging, or annoying us by sending asks.
We see you. And your support means the world to us.
Thank you.
Chapter 10: Brother Mine
Jesse squinted up at the apartment building, the glossy, glittering wonder of metropolitan style. The polished windows of the tower reflected all the lights of the skyline as well as the late twilight hue, looking itself like an extension of the sky, grounded in the middle of Redwood city.Â
The residual heat of the day hadnât yet left the ground Jesse walked on, but he couldnât wait until full dark. Heâd hardly rested at all during the day, anxiously anticipating this visit. He knew it wasnât exactly fair of him to hold such a disposition toward his own brother; Louis had reminded him on more than one occasion that it was a rare and lucky thing for a creature like himself to still have a living family, someone to endure forever with. If it was anyone other than Luther Rayne alone, Jesse would have been grateful, happy even. But his brother was all he had left in the world, and on his darkest days, he wished that it was not the two of them.
As he rode up the elevator toward the penthouse, Jesse mentally prepared himself for the conversation that would ensue. He didnât know if his mental exercises did any good, but he liked to think that if he went into the situation with his wits about him, he was less vulnerable to Lutherâs power. He knew his brother would never mean to hurt him, and maybe Luther wasnât entirely aware of the extent of his reach every time he opened his mouth, but Jesse wasnât careless enough to think he could ever let his guard down.Â
The penthouse doors opened, and his brother stood waiting for him just on the other side. Luther was dressed in his casual slacks, white button-down shirt, his golden blond hair neatly arranged in a classy style. Jesse looked practically shabby in contrast, even though he was wearing crisp new jeans, shoes of a fine make, and a blue collared shirt. He supposed he could have done better with his hair, but the more he fretted over his appearance, the more he felt like he was submitting himself to his brotherâs inspection like he had when he was a child and Luther was in charge of him. That was a lifetime agoâŚmany lifetimes.Â
âBrother,â Luther greeted, grinning from ear to ear in a way that showed off his pearly white fangs. He opened his arms wide to Jesse and said, âCome, give us a hug.â
Jesse felt the effects of the compulsion pulling at the edges of his mind, and being aware of it helped him to get ahold of it. Stepping forward relieved the influence just enough to give him the strength to shoot his arm out, offering a handshake in place of a hug. Luther laughed, full of humor at his little brotherâs show of self-control, and shook his hand. Jesse, being the only man or creature capable of resisting Lutherâs power, never failed to amuse him.Â
âVery good,â Luther admired, holding onto his hand as he beamed with pride. âMaybe this time youâll beat me at a round of chess, eh?â
âNext time, Luther,â Jesse said, reclaiming his hand in a way he hoped didnât seem too hurried. âI intended to pay a visit once things had settled, but thereâs a mild emergency, a time sensitive one, and I could use your help.â
âI see,â Luther nodded. He motioned for Jesse to follow him further into the apartment, and Jesse complied of his own free will.
As they made their way into the living room, Jesse cast a critical eye around at the fashions his brother had adopted since the last time heâd been there. He noted that the living space didnât seem very comfortable with its stiff leather furnishings and oddly shaped accent pieces, but it was certainly modern, fresh out of a Rich Douche R Us catalog. Floor to ceiling windows offered a grand view of the city skyline and the ocean horizon a few miles out, the glass bracketed by curtains dark and thick enough to block out the sun for the daylight hours.
Luther made for the corner of the room where he kept a well-stocked personal bar, and there by the glittering bottles and crystal glasses stood the only other inhabitant of the apartment. She was a woman of just over thirty years, by Jesseâs estimation, with unkempt mousy brown hair that hung in a single layer about her shoulders and a vacant expression on a face of sickly ashen skin. She wore a pink satin bathrobe over her thin frame, the material sliding off of one shoulder as she worked to polish a glass with a clean towel.
âGretchen, we have a guest,â Luther announced as he moved to stand behind the bar, forcing the woman to skitter back and out of his way. âGo put on some clothes.â
The woman, Gretchen, met Jesseâs eyes curiously. A spark of something like recognition crossed her ghostly face as she gazed at him, taking in his features that looked so much like Lutherâs. Her mouth hardened into a firm line, her shoulders instinctively squaring in a defensive set even as she had no muscle left to back them up. Setting down the glass she had been polishing, she pulled her robe tighter around herself, revealing the faded edges of old hunterâs tattoos up past her elbows, before quickly leaving the room.
âAh, my tenderhearted brother, donât trouble yourself over it,â Luther said reassuringly for the look of concern on Jesseâs face. He pulled up two fresh tumblers to set on the bartop, then served them each from an elegant decanter full of burgundy colored liquid. âShe knew the law, and I still chose mercy. I think weâre both quite satisfied with the arrangement.â
Jesse kept his mouth shut long enough to swallow his retort about Lutherâs definition of âmercyâ, choosing instead to take a long sip of his drink while he thought better of his words. When he was able to filter some of the judgment out of his voice, he asked, âYouâre not worried about keeping one of them under your own roof? Iâd be sleeping with one eye open if I were you.â
âWorried? No.â Luther raised his glass to his lips, unable to hide a private, knowing smile. âNo, I have her well in hand.â
A shudder of revulsion shook through him as Jesse was able to imagine all too well what he meant by that. He didnât want to think of that poor woman forced to be a prisoner in her own body, animated only by Lutherâs power and his deranged whims of fancy. Whether she broke the law of his territory or not, Jesse highly doubted this punishment fit the crime.
âI heard you had been to the house recently,â Luther said, effectively redirecting the conversation toward something he probably deemed more palatable. Jesse accepted the change reluctantly, forcing himself to remember that he had come here with a purpose. âI was surprised; that shack isnât suitable for my little brother. I would be glad to have you stay here during the course of the repairs, but if you want my advice, that place ought to be torn down and forgotten.â
âDoes this mean you have thralls in Jericho?â Jesse asked, a frown suddenly creasing his eyebrows. His gaze subconsciously flicked over toward the hall where Gretchen had stolen away. âThey wouldnât happen to be of the barking variety, would they? Something that could be misrepresented asâŚwell, a puppy?â
âWho can remember? Itâs been too long,â Luther said with a dismissive wave of his hand. âAnd of course Iâve had eyes on the house. It may be a scar of history, but itâs our history, and I prefer to know the comings and goings. For years itâs just been kids throwing their little parties, or the authorities coming to lock it up again, so you could imagine my surprise at hearing that my own brother had gone home.â
Jesse went suddenly rigid as a disturbing thought struck him. âIf youâve been watching the house, you already knew about my homecoming?â
âAre you asking if I know about the hunter, or the girl?â Luther asked, his head cocking sideways to gauge his brotherâs reaction. Jesse, to his credit, schooled his features to conceal his alarm. âMy thrall reported that the hunter attacked the girl, there was a fight, and now heâs dead and you arenât. Is that what you mean?â
Not exactly. There was far too much out in the open for his own comfort, but at least Luther hadnât mentioned Jensen Callowayâs name, or the part that made him truly nervous, the thing he had mercifully kept from Evaine. That could only mean that the thrall watching the house didnât recognize the hunter, or didnât fully comprehend what had happened. He knew he had to tread carefully, redirect his brotherâs attention so Luther wouldnât think to compel the full truth from him.
âYou can understand why I wouldnât want this to be common knowledge,â Jesse confided, earning the nod of understanding from Luther that he had hoped for. âIâm trying to settle in peacefully, and I wasnât expecting this to follow me from Boston. That hunter made a real mess of my front yard and almost killed the neighbor. I canât afford to rebuff every attack if they keep coming, so I need to put a stop to it.â
âAnd this is what youâve come to me for,â Luther concluded for him. âTell me, just what is my baby brother asking of me?â
The effect of the direct order was immediate, and Jesse practically had to choke the words down before he went spilling everything. He broke down the urge to comply into the bare necessities, chose his words carefully, and didnât speak until he was truly ready. Luther waited patiently, watching Jesseâs efforts with an amused smirk on his face.
âI need to know if Margaret Jameson is in town,â Jesse said slowly, chewing on every word. âSheâs the only one who can call off the hunters. If I could talk to her, just make her listen for a minute, I know I can get her to back down.â
âThatâs my Jesse for you, so trusting and optimistic,â Luther said with a melancholy smile, almost as if he was disappointed in him. âBe at ease, you donât need to worry about Miss Jameson or the hunters. I was alerted the second she arrived in the city.â
Jesseâs stomach droppedâhe really didnât like the sound of that. His whole purpose for even being there was to get ahead of the situation before it spiraled out of control, and his brother had an uncanny knack for adding fuel to any fire. Jesse was almost too afraid to ask, but Luther answered for him without being prompted, confirming his worst fears.
âIâve taken care of everything.â
Source

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Sup cuties
I have a story that I've been working on literally since highschool and was considering getting it conventionally published, but right now I just want her to be read and enjoyed more than anything. So below the cut find chapter 1 of By Nightfall, and I'll post further chapters under the same tags
thanks love ya byeee
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 9: The Dawson Daisy
Evaine was lost in thought, much as she had been all morning, when she was meant to be sweeping the shop floors. She normally liked visiting her momâs gardening store, helping out with what little she could do. Stocking and shelving were pretty boring tasks, and she was hopeless at processing online orders, but she enjoyed working with her hands and taking care of the actual plants. Any other day, she would have been perfectly content to be there with the music playing over the loudspeaker and the light chatter as her mom and Parker helped customers.
But today was a day unlike any other, try as she might to put on a smile and carry on. Today, she was seeing the world in a new light, a glaring light that illuminated things that ought to stay in the dark. Today, she had watched out the car window a little too eagerly as they were driving into town, just to catch a glimpse of the monster house. Jesseâs house, now. There had been at least three different company vans parked in the driveway, and numerous workers scurried about the grounds, but not a single hint or remnant of what occurred there last night. Her mother had been quick to notice the hubbub around the house which had been deserted for her entire life, and Evaine feigned ignorance on the matter. She couldnât even begin to explain if she wanted to. That was only one of the many things swimming around her head, keeping her distracted as she halfheartedly went about the tasks she usually enjoyed.
âUhâŚexcuse me.â Parker, her motherâs only employee, brought her back to reality. He stood over her by a fair few inches, dark brown hair falling in the way of his glasses, dirt smudging his nose and forehead from where heâd tried to brush it away. His arms were full of soil sacks as he tried to squeeze past her down the narrow aisle where she had been standing like a slack-jawed zombie.
âOh, sorry,â Evaine said, stepping back to let him through. Besides âhelloâ that was the first time Parker had spoken to her all morning, having busied himself with the physical work and heavy lifting while her mother ran the front. It wasnât like she had expected anything different as he seemed to be the only person in Jericho who was more awkward and shy than she was.Â
âE,â her mother called from the front desk, motioning her over with a wave that made all the decorative pins on her smock jingle and click together. It was getting close to the afternoon lull, so there were no customers or phone calls, bringing a welcome slowdown to what had been a fairly busy morning.
Evaine gladly set the broom aside, hopeful that her mom would have something more interesting for her to work on so she could finally get her head out of the clouds. She made her way up to the front register, leaning her elbows onto the counter to take the weight off her feet for a moment.Â
âWhat do you think about Parker?â her mom asked, whispering secretively as she leaned in close.
âHe seems alright,â Evaine said without giving him much thought. âHeâs worked here for a full year, right? Thinking of giving him a promotion?â
âNo, not like that,â her mom said with a little eye roll. She made a quick glance around the store to make sure the boy in question was still out of earshot. âI mean, as in someone you might want to invite over for dinner sometime, or out on a date.â
Evaine blanched, horrified that her mother was even breaching that subject. She had always shown an interest in her daughterâs personal life, but Evaine supposed they had different ideas of where the personal boundary lay between them. Her mom loved to ask about her social life, or lack thereof, always wanting to offer advice and ideas on how to make friends while Evaine would rather avoid the subject altogether. She hated being reminded how lame it was that she had no friends, no romantic interests, nothing about herself that she thought was worth talking about. She knew her mom only wanted to be helpful and feel involved, but for Evaine, it was a humiliating experience.Â
But on today of all days, she was less concerned with what she didnât have to say, and more with what she couldnât say. Her mom knew her better than anyone and would surely sniff out a lie in a heartbeat, so Evaine controlled her expression by pretending to look at Parker with honest consideration.
âI really donât think of him that way,â she answered hesitantly, hoping she looked more embarrassed than suspicious. âAnd I know for a fact he doesnât think of me like that, either. He sits in the same area of the quad as I do during lunch, so I know his friends have been making fun of him for having a crush on Tayshia Johnson.â
âTayshia Johnson the cheerleader? Her momâs on the community garden committee,â her mom noted with approving recognition, as if she already liked Tayshia by association. Evaine couldnât really blame her; everyone liked Tayshia Johnson. âDoes she like him?â
âShe doesnât know he exists,â Evaine said, unable to help a little snort at Parkerâs expense. She could feel bad about it later; for now, she just wanted to steer the focus away from herself. âFrom the way his friends talk, it sounds like heâs too scared to even say hi.â
âSee? Then thereâs no problem with shooting your shot,â her mom said, elbowing her in the ribs in a friendly way. âA guy like him might not be able to see whatâs right in front of him, but if you give him the opportunity, he might surprise you.â
âYeah, Iâm sure Parkerâs full of hidden depths and all that, but heâs just not for me,â Evaine answered bluntly. âI think weâre just too alike to be a good match in that way. Weâre both shy and awkward; every time weâve been alone together, itâs just dead silence. I would want someone who makes up for those things I lack, or at least makes me comfortable enough to get over them.â
âI guess thatâs fair. Plus, it would suck to have to fire you if things ended badly,â her mom teased before her voice took on a more gentle, caring tone. âI just know youâve been kind of lonely lately; I thought it might help to have a little time with someone besides me.â
For the umpteenth time that morning, the urge to tell her mom about last night bubbled up into her throat, and she had to physically bite back the words before she spilled the whole thing.
âActually, I kinda met someone last night.â Woops.Â
âAnd youâre just telling me this now?â her mom practically burst, eyes going as wide as saucers. âWho is it? He or she? How did you meet? What happened?!â
âDial it back, mom; I really donât want to get my hopes up by talking about it too much,â she said, mentally congratulating herself on a nice save. âWe just met while I was out getting dinner last night, and he seemedâŚnice, I guess. It wasnât for very long, I donât know much about him, but if anything comes of it, I promise youâll be the first to know. I think I just need the space to figure this out, you know? Let it happen naturally if thereâs anything there.â
âOkay, okay, I get it, I wonât pry,â her mom promised, not dimming in the slightest. âYou go at your own pace, but just remember that you always have someone here to talk to about anything. I happen to know a thing or two about this stuff, Iâve been around the block a few times myselfââ
âMOM.â
Thankfully, they were interrupted by the bell on the shop door as Alec walked in, probably on his lunch break from the library. He looked especially chipper compared to his usual self, if one could consider him to be chipper at all. His flannel of the day was carefully buttoned at the wrist against an early fall breeze, and it seemed to be less wrinkly than it should have been after a morning of work. His jeans werenât even that dirty, and he seemed to have trimmed his mustache that morning.
âGood afternoon, Dawsons, Parker,â he greeted as he walked in, waving for Parker at the other end of the store. He strolled right up to the checkout counter and set down a little basket wrapped in a checkered cloth. âAs promised, giant cookies from Rositaâs Bakery.â
âOh Al, you didnât have to do that,â Evaineâs mother said politely, even though she had practically shot up at the mention of âcookieâ. She eagerly reached over the counter to undress the basket, revealing a half dozen cookies the size of a splayed hand.
âIt wasnât any trouble. Got an order of peanut butter cookies for mâself,â he said, winking at Evaine when she jokingly stuck her tongue out in disgust.
âYou know, this reminds me,â her mother said around a mouthful of cookie. âI should put together a welcome basket for the new neighbor. I donât know if you saw, but some poor soul decided to move into the monster house. There were workers out there just this morning doing something to the yard.â
Evaine busied herself with unwrapping a cookie to hide the grimace that crossed her face when she thought about that spot of the yard where Jesse had dragged the body of Jensen Calloway, carelessly tossing the heart away and out of sight from the main road. Whatever warmth or joy she had felt about being able to confide in her mother was effectively washed away by chilling unease.
âMiss Dawson, it may be none of my business, but Iâve heard some unkind things about that new neighbor,â Alec said, his tone quickly turning serious. Evaine tensed at the sound of it, suddenly very interested in hearing what he could possibly know about Jesse Rayne. âNow, I wonât say much, Iâm not about to go condemning a man Iâve never met, but I hear he comes from a pretty shady background. People around him tend to get hurt, if you catch my drift. I know you want to be neighborly, and thatâs very kind of you, but it would put this old manâs mind at ease if you ladies stayed well away from that house. Just send a welcome by post, and donât bother with a return address.â
âReally? I never would have known!â her mother said, one hand flying to her heart with the shock, but her blue eyes were alight with interest for such juicy drama.
âWhere did you hear this?â Evaine asked, concealing the accusation with an expression of curiosity. âDidnât he just move in?â
âFrom my cousin, actually,â he said, reminding her that he had disclosed such plans when she saw him yesterday. âSheâs an investigator for a law firm in Montana, but sheâs been following his case as far as Boston, thatâs where heâs just moved from. She realized he had come to Jericho, so she reached out to me, wanted to give me a heads up. I figured Iâd warn you ladies to err on the side of caution, just in case.â
âThatâs so kind of you, Alec,â Evaineâs mother said, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. âIâll just send him a fruit basket, say itâs a welcome from the whole neighborhood and nothing more.â
âThatâd probably be best,â Alec agreed, as if the change in attitude was a mark of wisdom for herself and not the product of his own design. âI best get a move on; I wanted to catch Lonnie Hill before he goes making a fuss about the construction. His property is on the western border of the monster house, and you know heâs been complaining for years about the overgrowth spilling onto his land.â
âOf course, heâd better know who heâs dealing with before he says something heâll regret,â her mom said in a knowing way. âThanks, Al, for the cookies, too. Youâre too good to us.â
âYeah, thanks,â Evaine hurried to add, forcing as natural a smile as she could muster. Alec didnât seem to notice as he bashfully waved away their gratitude.Â
âYâall be safe now,â he said, giving them that wrinkly bulldog smile of his before turning to leave the shop.
Evaine watched him go, her eyes narrowing when she spied the pleasant expression drop from his face just as soon as he was out the door, like a mask falling off. That chipperness she noted earlier suddenly revealed itself as the façade it was, just a way to hide the tension of his shoulders and balled up fists. Alec was putting on a show for them, not just lying, but using their friendship to manipulate them for his own ends. He was troubled, unwilling to let it show, and determined to keep them from seeking out their new neighbor.
It couldnât be a coincidence, a gut feeling told her as much. Jesse was certainly being followed and investigated, that much was true, but if Alecâs cousin had anything to do with it, that could only mean that she was a hunter like Jensen Calloway. If she had warned her cousin about Jesse, that could only mean that Alec knew what he was.
Alec turned to look back through the window of the shop, his expression grim, but determined.
Oh yeah, Iâm right about this, Evaine thought as she watched. You know something.
Geralt Of Rivia - The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (2015)

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possessed by fire
my lungs burn with every
cursed inhale, and the only
thing that comes out isÂ
smoke and sorrowful memories.Â
~K.T.
loving the lord of the rings so far
Chapter 8: The Morning After
Evaine couldnât remember the last time she had a nightmare that wasnât about school or her teeth falling out at the dentistsâ. When she did dream, it usually came as a disjointed parade of images and sounds, and she, the passenger, strapped in for the ride. That night, after the hunter, after Jesse, she had hoped she would be too exhausted to dream, knowing it could only bring terror and monsters made more horrifying by her imagination.
The dream found her right back in Loganâs, standing beside the bar as she fumbled with the broken shards of her glass, trying to piece them together like a puzzle. It was an effort of frustration; none of the edges seemed to fit together, and every piece she touched left her fingers sliced open and bleeding.Â
After what seemed like an endless stretch of time of just making an even worse mess, she looked up to ask Logan for a towel. The bartender had the great slope of his back to her, his brown fur moving in little waves as he slowly wiped down the bottle in his hands.
Evaine decided to look around for someone else to ask for help, but even though the bar was full of patrons, not a single one was looking in her direction. In fact, they were rather pointedly looking away from her. They had twisted in their chairs and turned over their shoulders, looking either to the walls, the ceiling, or the floorâanywhere but at her.
With her bleeding hand leaving a trail of red behind her, she walked away from the bar in search of anyone that could help her. She called out to them, knocked on tables, even went so far as to walk around them in circles, but each one shifted away from her like a schoolyard game of keepaway, and Evaine was the loser.
Fed up, angry, on the verge of tears, all she could think was that she wanted to go home. As if in response to her desire, she finally noticed the door on the opposite end of the room, already posed slightly ajar, inviting her to leave.
She started toward the door, and a sudden ripple of energy went through the crowd of patrons as people stiffened their posture, clenched their hands, or grabbed onto the backs of their chairs. Evaine paused only out of a momentary curiosity, but she decided she was far too upset with their behavior to care if they were being weird. She began again, marching straight for the door, and another ripple of movement went through the room.
âSsshhhHH!â The sharp sound cut through the rustling and creaking of wooden chairs, but the subtle motions continued. âSheâs sleeping.â
Evaineâs steps slowed, just within armâs reach of the door. She hadnât even considered that she might be asleep, but she gratefully latched onto the idea. If she was sleeping, then none of this was real, and she could go home whenever she wanted. She decided with purposeful resolve in her own mind that when she opened the door, she would walk through and wake up.
She reached for the door handle, but before she could grasp it, a pale, clammy hand clamped down on her wrist, holding her back.
âDo. Not. Wake her.â
Evaine startled into a cold sweat, tearing her hand free. She turned around to find the same skeletal woman from the bar earlier, the one who had been so interested in getting her claws on her. The woman grinned at her with that discomforting, gumless smile, one thick strand of her hair stuck across her cheek as if the oiliness had bonded to her gaunt skin.Â
There were a thousand things she could have said, her first instinct being to tell the horrid woman to back off, get away from her, but all that came out was, âWhere are your eyes?â
The smiling woman reached up with her thin fingers to feel those twin hollows in her skull where her eyes should have been, running over the edges of her bones in a way that pulled and stretched the skin cratered there.
âSee the unseenâŚâ was the womanâs reply, her fingers running back and forth over those empty circles, the same way that Evaine sometimes rubbed her eyes when she was tired, like it felt nice. âSee the unseenâŚâ
Evaine turned away from the woman slowly, concerned that any sudden movements would cause a reaction. She grasped the handle of the door she had been reaching for and pulled to open it the rest of the way.
The world on the other side of the door was an empty void of darkness, no sky and no ground, no light and no sound. The gaping, devouring blackness of it stood in stark contrast to the warm, dim lights of the bar, flickering gently against the wooden door frame.
Standing out in that void was a figure, something vastly tall off in the distance. It was branched and rooted like a tree, but the length of the trunk was curved in the hourglass shape of a womanâs torso. The branches were twisted with colors of flaming red, the wood running with lines of olive, gold, and brown. It was a tree, but also a woman. A woman, but also a tree.
Just above the trunk there was a face, or was it a mere carving? Evaine wasnât quite sure, but the details of that face were crystal clear in her mind. The teardrop shape, the soft line of the brow, heavily lidded and downturned eyes. That was her face carved into the woman tree, her face being worn by another.
âWhat do you see?â asked the skeletal woman from behind her. Without turning around, Evaine knew that the woman had at last stopped smiling, and her whisper was laced with worry and anticipation.
âWe are awake.âÂ
***
It took Evaine a long minute to separate the dream from reality once she finally opened her eyes, blinking through the early morning sunlight that filtered in through the curtains over the window. The lilac fabric lent its color to the edges of the warm glow, and the familiar sight brought a welcomed wave of relief at the realization that it had been, in fact, a dream. Her own bed, her own room, the smell of her mom making coffee in the kitchenâthose little familiar sensations grounded her, soothed her, and reassured her that all was well.Â
The memories slammed back into her with enough force to make her bolt upright in bed, all traces of sleep and peace long gone. The attack, the bar, Jesse, Louis, Jensen CallowayâŚvampire.
Kicking back her blankets, she scrambled out of bed and over to the closet. Her memories of returning home and getting cleaned up were hazy, just an exhausted blur of showering and sloppily bandaging her injured hand, but she did remember bagging up the dirty, drenched clothes she had been wearing with plans to throw them out later. When she opened her closet door, there they were, haphazardly shoved into a wrinkled grocery bag on the floor. Her shoes sat beside the bag, thankfully salvageable since the canvas was red enough that a few dark patches didnât make too much of a difference, but the jeans and the white tee that had been given to her were hopelessly stained the color of rust.Â
That was because they had been covered in blood for hours last night.
That was because that part wasnât a dream. Jesse Rayne was real, he had admitted to her that he was a vampire, told her she might be cursedâŚand Jensen Calloway was really dead.Â
Evaine shakily let out a breath, sinking down to sit on the carpet while her body flooded with echoes of memories and emotions. She absently picked at the large band aid that covered her palm, peeling it back to reveal the thin pink lines where before there had been deep, red gashes. It had healed so fast, so fast that it couldnât be possibleâŚbut then again, she shouldnât even be breathing after what happened last night.
Right after it had all gone down, sheâd been practically sick with fear and worry, so terrified of the unknown and unsure of her own safety. Now, with fresh eyes and a bit of rest, those feelings had dulled enough to be able to push them aside, allowing her to think a little more clearly. The trouble was, she still had no idea what to make of it all.
On the one hand, she had been through something truly awful, something that would haunt her for the rest of her life, something that made her stomach twist and her heart drop to even think about. The fact that she was lucky enough to walk away without a scratch did little to soothe the ache in her chest that hollowed out when she thought about it. That, and now the possibility of a curse which suggested untold danger, made her sorely wish that she had never stepped foot off the safe path home.
On the other hand, there was Jesse. There was someone who knew how to navigate this strange new world she had stumbled onto, someone who seemed genuine in his offer to help see her through, someone who managed to make her feel safe and secure while everything around her was growing more complicated by the minute. And if she was being truly honest with herself, she knew she would want to keep seeing him even if he had no help to offer her. She wanted to know more about the man, the vampire, who had saved her life. She wanted to know more about this world of his, magic and danger alike, and she wanted him to keep looking at her like he saw her as an actual person and not just a casualty of a night gone wrong.Â
âE, you awake?â her mom called through the closed bedroom door, tapping a light knock.
Evaine startled so badly she nearly slammed the closet door with the bag of clothes inside. She frantically searched her room for any other evidence she might have forgotten to cover up, and loudly replied, âUh, y-yeah, Iâm getting dressed!â
âAlright, just checking.â She could hear her mom snort with a quiet laugh at the badly concealed distress in her voice. âDid you still want to come with me to the shop today?â
Right, she had forgotten that she agreed to help out over the weekend. Saturdays tended to get busy at the shop, and even though her mother had her employee, Parker, to help her out, some days required three pairs of hands, and she certainly didnât mind being paid for her help afterward.Â
She was tempted to say no just so she could have more time to mentally process everything she could remember from last night, and maybe scour the internet for a couple hours for some websites dedicated to monsters and lore, but she supposed that she shouldnât flake out on her own mother, not if she was trying to act normally. Besides, having the distraction of working with her hands would help her to not let her mind obsess. Maybe.
âYeah, Iâll be ready in a few minutes,â she answered, casting a last reluctant glance at her closet.
Her mom departed from her door saying something about packing lunches, and Evaine went through the motions of getting ready for the day, even though her mind was miles away. The result was an inside out green tank top and shorts, her white sneakers that she usually avoided bringing to a shop full of soil and greenery, and a messy bun since she couldnât be bothered to fight her hair after she had fallen asleep with it wet.
She was just about ready to leave when she went to search for her bag, only to remember that she never actually brought it home with her. Jesse had picked it up out of the mess of dirt and blood and tossed it in the back seat of the car where she had forgotten all about it. He hadnât given her an exact timeframe to expect him to reach out, but she couldnât wait around forever. That bag had all of her school supplies, all those books from the library, and she would definitely need it come Monday.
Pulling out her phone, she opened up her contacts list, hoping she hadnât dreamt the part where Jesse gave her his number as they sat in the car. Something about having a vampireâs phone number just edged the whole situation into the surreal, but lo and behold, there it was, labeled with a simple J. She opened up a new text message, figuring this wasnât the sort of thing to actually call him over, and labored over one sentence for a good ten minutes before pressing send.
you have my bag
your car, backseat
She wondered if he was even awake, or if he was the kind of vampire that just checked out for the entirety of daylight hours. She didnât like the prospect of being put on hold all day, anxiously waiting for her phone to light up. Before she could put her phone away, however, it dinged to alert her to a new message.
It was dirty, I burned it.
Sorry
Her cheeks flushed with a sudden rush of anger, and her heart constricted with a wholly different sort of panic. Those books were borrowed, she would have to pay up if she couldnât return them, and her school binder had all the assignments she was supposed to work on over the weekend. She didnât even know how to begin forming the words that could effectively communicate her internal shrieking and the building storm ofâ
Just the bag, not the books
She almost laughed with relief, and at how ridiculous it was to get upset about that of all things. She was just glad that sheâd decided against the phone call where Jesse could have listened in on her near-tantrum. He had probably just been using common sense when he took the time to rescue her things while he was in the midst of destroying evidence, but she felt a swell of gratitude nonetheless.
thanks, need them monday
Iâll get them to you
Be safe today.
Sup cuties
I have a story that I've been working on literally since highschool and was considering getting it conventionally published, but right now I just want her to be read and enjoyed more than anything. So below the cut find chapter 1 of By Nightfall, and I'll post further chapters under the same tags
thanks love ya byeee
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
u know what, even if my writing isnt the BEST, i still made it all on my own. like there was a blank word doc and i filled it up with my own words, my own story. i took what was in my head and i made it a real thing. idk i feel like that alone is something to be proud of.

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executive dysfunction is literally like. ive had a random dollar on my floor for two weeks and i dont know when ill fit it in my schedule to pick it up. people dont realize this
blue lights and rooftop musings
she became partÂ
of the night sky, her
hair the black canvas,Â
and her eyes glittering
stars.Â
~K.T.