#anyway BEST CUT MOR SONG

[purecommemasolitude]

QUAND LE RIDEAU TOMBE MY BELOVED

[ncteez]

Oh no, he’s hot (k.m.g)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader 

CONTENT― there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, bottom(ish) mingyu, top(ish) reader, desperate smutty stuff,  mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her early 20s (in other words, age gaps be damned, you’re both adults.)

OTHER CHARACTERS― chan is his son and ur just gonna have to deal with that for the sake of having no unnamed characters 

WARNINGS― Mingyu has an internal war over wanting you because his son also wants you. Another thing,  this is entirely consenting, but mingyu does mention to stop and/or wait at one point while clearly acting against his own words. 

NOTE― So uh, this fic is kind of a push and pull between morality and fucking because you’re horny. There’s some backhanded stuff about Chan but ill make it up to him in a future fic, i swear. Anyway, behold, the unedited dilf mingyu fic.

smut tags under cut:: 

― part two here!

smut tags―his brain is between his legs in this fic, BIG DICK MINGYU, grinding(ish), masturbation, handjob, neck kissing/sucking, groping, pet names: babe & sweetheart, face riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (just assume they’re protected somehow at this point), he’s technically the one doing the fucking but he’s very in tune with her pleasure, missionary, g-spot stimulation and deep penetration

~

The first time you met Kim Mingyu was an unfortunate event. One where his son was seeing three of you and four of his dad as you struggled to get him up the steps of the porch. It’s not that Chan purposely stayed out past curfew, and it’s definitely not that he forgot his gate code or his dorm keys, it’s just that he really needed a friend to get him to his dad’s house. It wasn’t out of the way, Chan promised you that, even as you drove a full ten minutes across the city line to get him to safety. At first, you didn’t mind and preferred to spend more time with him anyway, but then it was even more worth the drive. Especially after meeting his father and realizing that he’s, to put it bluntly, just as hot as Chan. If not, more. 

 The second, third, and fourth time you met Kim Mingyu was much the same on the outside. Internally though, each time you met him threw you further and further into a specific thought process. One that felt taboo. You’ve never felt anything towards the parent of a friend, better yet the parent of a crush. Until now, at least, especially with the way Mingyu looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. 

  It’s not that you think Chan’s dad would consider you an option, the smallest possibility of that is definitely not the reason why you volunteer to take his rowdy ass home either. Before it was because you wanted to spend more time with the guy you possibly were trying to date. Now? You won’t admit the reasoning. If anything, it’s because the older man has a kind face and thanks you each time for bringing Chan home to him rather than leaving him on the lawn of some frat house. 

 The fact that all of this started because you had a crush on Chan was insane enough. Now look at you, going to frat parties with him, no longer to get closer per se, but so you can take him to his childhood home despite him not forgetting his dorm keys anymore. 

 It’s the latest you’ve ever brought him this time, nearing four in the morning as you drag his clumsy self up his front porch as he hums the tune to your favorite song at you.

 “I told you,” Chan slurs through his humming, stopping you from knocking on the door and leaning his weight on you even more. “I have my keys this time. Why are we at my dad’s house again?” 

             You shake your head at him, adjusting your body better to accommodate his dead weight on your right side. 

 “Curfew. Do you want to be written up for a noise complaint again?” You look at him, watching him tilt his head and remove himself from your side to stand in front of you in an immaculate show of how uncoordinated he can be. 

 “You take such good care of me,” He slurs again, smiling at you from under his messy fringe and struggling to adjust his eyes to meet yours properly. “Y’know, Soonyoung said you have a crush on me–”

             You cut him off, stepping forward and knocking against the door as loudly as you can to avoid the fact that you might’ve had a crush on him before, and perhaps you still do. It’s just– his dad, y’know? 

 “Why’re you ignoring me?” He smiles again, leaning lazily against the door frame as you knock.

             Honestly, on any other day, you’d probably be blushing. You’d be floored by Chan being so forward toward you, especially in his cute drunken state with his sparkling eyes and stupid messy hair. It’s no wonder you have–had– a crush on him. With a face like that, a voice like that, a body like that, a dad like that. 

 “I’d rather talk about this when you’re sober, Chan.” You deadpan, knocking again and wondering if it’s taking his dad a while to get out of bed because it’s too early in the morning to be handling a drunk son. 

             Chan looks at you for several seconds with his crooked and lazy smile, nodding to you and blinking out of sync. You do think he’s charming, even like this. It’s a shame, really, that you can hear the door unlocking because you probably would have grabbed his face and kissed him at that moment. Mingyu be damned. Even more of a shame that your variable crush on him fizzles out the second you see his father time and time again. 

             Mingyu stands there behind that thin layer of glass with his sweat pants sitting low on his hips, shirt nowhere to be seen, with a face of both disappointment in Chan and sleepy fondness towards you. On instinct, you remember the first time you saw him and every time after that. No matter the change of lighting, time of night, or the way he has his hair– he never looks to be old enough to be Chan’s father. To put it bluntly, Mingyu doesn’t appear to be any older than his mid-twenties. Still, any sane person would be chasing after his son, much like you were but, here you are, wanting nothing more than to chase after the forty-something-year-old father of a cute drunken idiot.  

             Chan watches you stare at his dad but isn’t quite sure if it means anything because his drunken brain is telling him that you’re just tired or something. Still, he leans from the frame and immediately clings to you, his state offering little to hide the feelings he’s grown towards you. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt his nose nuzzle against your neck, with his alcohol-scented breath blowing against the skin there. You struggle to not lean into him. 

             Mingyu opens the door upon seeing Chan acting like a fool in love, much like he would have done at his age in the same state of bliss with a pretty girl by his side. 

 “Chan is very drunk again,” You laugh apologetically, looking away from the Mingyu and feeling Chan’s hands grip your waist as he hugs you. You try not to think too hard about his hands gripping you too, mostly because he’s never actually been this forward or clingy towards you. Truly, if he had done this before meeting Mingyu, and without being absolutely trashed, you’d probably already have asked to be his girlfriend or gone down on him, at the very least. 

  “Should I lead him to the couch?”

             Mingyu nods, looking at you with a gentle smile, well aware of the fact that you bring Chan here for reasons other than giving his son a place to lay his head. He knows Chan keeps his keys on him now, and he’s known since the second time you dropped him off. Especially considering he scolds him every morning after a drunken party, and each time, Chan proves that his keys were with him. He also knows his son well enough to see when he takes a liking to a girl, the issue is that you make it very very obvious that you’re more interested in him rather than Chan. Which is flattering, incredibly cute, equally as dangerous, and such a fucking shame for his son. 

             Here’s the thing. Mingyu is a good person with a stable head on his shoulders. He’s a good father, a hard worker, and a gentle soul, but he gets horny  just like any other man. Unfortunately, when a woman who he finds attractive, even if he swears he isn’t interested, starts throwing signals his way– it’s hard to ignore them and even harder to control himself when he hasn’t so much as gone on a date with another woman in at least a year. Much like his son, maybe he’s taken the tiniest liking to you too. To make himself feel better though, he swears it’s because he’s proud of his son for finding such a pretty girl that puts up with him.

             After all, he would never sleep with a woman that his son is fond of. Even when you look at him the way you do, even when you bend over in front of him for a second too long, making it obvious that you like it when his eyes land on your ass. Mingyu’s got wisdom in terms of bedroom eyes, and he would be terribly mistaken if the way you look at him wasn’t exactly that. It started eating him up inside from the second time you stepped foot in his house, and shamefully– he’s maybe thought about you in ways that he shouldn’t. Not only does Chan seem to be around you a lot, but you’re the same age as his son. 

 Of course, he feels bad. He feels like a pervert and a creep when he finds himself warming up at the way you look at him. Then he thinks hard enough about it to wonder where things could lead if he were to be selfish for once. It’s hard to find you attractive, especially when you appear to make excuses to stare at him. When he’s in his head about it, usually for several hours after you’ve dropped Chan off, he thinks about how you’re both adults and you are not obligated to cater to Chan, nor are you obligated to cater to him. You are a whole person with your own interests, and if your interest happens to be him– and if he happens to take an interest in you too, wouldn’t that just be two consenting adults? The dilemma of Chan liking you is what fucks with his head. 

  Tonight, it’s even worse and it’s becoming more and more difficult to brush you off or avert his eyes. Again, he would not ever sleep with a woman that his son is interested in but, he happens to be a bit touch-starved and you happen to be flaunting yourself at him. So, he’s allowed to at least, like, think about it, right? 

 “Ah,” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck with one hand and takes a step to the side to let you in. His shirtless body warms up when your eyes continuously scan him. You appear more interested each time you come by, and he can’t help but think that this is already reaching dangerous territory. There’s a clear reason why you keep coming to his house, using his son as an excuse to play innocent. 

 “That should be comfortable enough,” he comments in a sleep-shrouded rasp, watching you plop his son down on the couch. He closes the front door and grabs a lap blanket from the back of the couch to throw over him to help get him situated. “More comfortable than the bed in his dorm, I'm sure.” 

 “Ah, his shoes.” You comment to yourself, pulling at Chan’s laces and slipping his shoes off of him before lifting back up and preparing to head to the door. The visit to look at Mingyu is always only five to ten minutes, but you enjoy the ogling session nonetheless. 

 “Hey,” Chan slurs out, reaching out and pulling at your arm. “It’s pretty late, just crash here with me…”

             You stumble a bit, losing your balance and landing against him, but you’re quick to pull yourself back up with a laugh. God, why does he have to be the one with a hot dad? Why couldn’t he have done all of this before? Why do you have to be single and ready to mingle with a man twice your age because of Chan?

             As you stand back to your feet, you look at him as his heavy eyes start to close despite the shenanigans he just pulled. He’s already falling asleep and surely he won’t remember this by morning, so you gently back away with a soft shake of your head before heading for the door and placing his shoes on the rack there.

 “He’s right.” Mingyu manages to say, stepping in front of the door and crossing his arms. He’s a bit unsure of why he’s offering this but ultimately plays it off. It’s not because he’s trying to play cupid and hook you up with his son either. Selfishly, it’s because he wouldn’t mind you staring at him for a bit longer. 

 “It’s already too late, and I’m aware that your campus is a bit of a drive…” He trails off, trying to not act exactly like Chan towards you.

             You pause, noting that you were about to immediately agree despite rejecting his son’s offer. Looking at Mingyu, with his broad shoulders and sharp jaw, you shake your head much like before, hoping that he offers again so you can pretend to not seem so excited. 

 “Maybe I shouldn’t, I still need to shower and I don’t have anything to change into–” You try to make excuses, but he shakes his head, putting his hands out in a defensive kind of way.

 “No, no. I insist. It’s not safe, I’m sure I’ve got something lying around that you can put on for the night, there are extra toothbrushes too.”

             Well, you’re not gonna fucking argue that.

 “Okay,” You offer a soft nod and a smile, stepping away from the door and looking to the floor. You feel elated right now. “Where’s the bathroom then?” 

             Mingyu, for some reason, is trembling as he suddenly feels entirely naked in front of you even with his thick sweatpants covering the bits. He smiles back at you, reaching out as if you should grab his hand. 

             In reality, it was just to be polite but you did grab his hand. He panics a little because your hands are so fucking soft and warm, and god it’s been way too long since he’s looked at a woman this way. Such a fucking shame that Chan likes you, he knows he can’t be thinking like this. 

             Mingyu reluctantly leads you down the hallway to the bathroom, softly and quietly pointing out the towels and extra tooth brushes before stepping out and immediately walking away. You didn’t get to inquire about said pajamas he was going to offer to you, and in all honesty, he definitely forgot the second he realized that he was thinking too hard right now.

             He stands against the closed door of his room until he hears the water in the bathroom start and the shower curtain closing. That’s when he realizes he forgot to get you those fucking pajamas and curses under his breath before rushing out of the room and towards the laundry room. He’s sure he has some of Chan’s clothes here that he’s always leaving behind. 

             Thankfully, he finds a pair of boxers and a ratty old t-shirt stretched out far past its original sizing. He’s sure this will do fine as he hastily grabs them and heads toward the bathroom again.

             He stands outside of the door frozen, unsure of if he should knock or just leave them at the door. His brain is running a mile a minute at how to navigate thinking intimate things about you behind that shower curtain. Naked. The fact that you’ll be putting on his son’s clothes, probably without panties because you appeared to have made a point that you needed to change out of tonight’s clothes– oh god. There it is. There’s the shameful arousal he’s been fighting since the second time you brought Chan home.

             The water turns off after several minutes of him standing there, and he can hear the shower curtain move as you step out and presumably dry off.

             The softest of knocks known to man can be heard on your side of the door and that’s when you, yourself, get pulled out of your thoughts of Mingyu stepping inside this bathroom and wrapping your legs around him. As you look around, you should probably ask about those pajamas, and surely that’s Mingyu on the other side of this door knocking like the most polite man in the universe. 

             It’s dangerous, really. For Mingyu to be feeling this desperate for the touch of an attractive woman, whoever it may be, and you on the other side of this door desperate to touch him. You wonder if he will reject your advances, or if he will at least pick up a hint or two. You wonder if you’re about to put his clothes on you and if you’ll be able to smell him on you when you intentionally go home in them tomorrow after you wake up. 

             You creak the door open, holding the towel loosely against you as you make eye contact with him. You’re confident enough to seduce a man, but seducing Mingyu is new ground for you. Will your usual antics work on an older man? Guess you’ll find out, because right now is a better time than any.

  He’s still shirtless, his sweatpants seem to be sitting lower on his hips now too. You can’t help it when you trail your eyes down, shamelessly taking in his image before meeting his eye again with a sly smile.

             That little smile kind of solidifies it for him. The look on your face is easily recognizable to him, considering he’s seen it time and time again back before he had an entire child with someone. So, he pushes the door open a bit more, smelling the soapy scent of what you used to wash with before immediately taking a step back as you take the clothes from him. It’s not that he wouldn’t step inside and make advances on you, but he’s really trying to control his urges right now. Simply because his son likes you. 

 “They’re Chan’s,” he comments shortly, his own eyes trailing down without intention and watching a water droplet fall from the dip of your shoulder to seep into the towel loosely hiding your chest. “That's all I could find.”

             You watch him stand there, despite having taken a step back from the doorway, he appears to be planted in place without hiding the way his eyes take you in more than they ever have. You’re purposely holding this towel against you in a revealing way for him. So, you’re feeling pretty good that it seems to be working, and he’s even picking up on your energy toward him. 

 “Oh,” you finally say, looking down at the clothes in your hands. “I thought you were going to give me something of yours to wear.”

             Mingyu swallows hard. He was almost going to ask if you’d prefer to wear his clothes, but he controls himself yet again. 

 “Ah, I didn’t want Chan to think anything.”

             You perk up at that comment, playing off of it. 

 “What do you mean?” You ask with a playful tone to your voice. “You’d just be helping me sleep comfortably like a good host.” You smile as you keep eye contact with him now.

 “Ah, well,” He laughs awkwardly with you, now imagining you in his clothes. The arousal only grows at the image of you in one of his old ratty shirts rather than his son’s. This is not okay though, he cannot be thinking these things while you’re less than a foot away from him with just that loose towel covering you.

 You notice his lack of words after that, so you trail your eyes down again to see if you’re truly the only one here considering things to do that Chan would find suspicious. He’s so broad, honestly, he’s big enough that he could trap you against the bathroom counter behind you and have his way with ease. 

 “Are you,” You pause for a moment, narrowing your eyes before glancing up at his eyes again, “turned on?” 

             Mingyu freezes only for a moment before putting his hands in front of himself and turning away from you while whispering a small apology. 

 “Sorry, it’s not intentional,” he goes to say, feeling his cheeks warm up at the fact that you so bluntly asked him such a thing. “I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even finish his sentence before he points to his room with his thumb, rushes down the hallway, and closes the door behind him.

             You’re left standing there in silence with Chan’s clothing in your hands. You slowly back yourself into the bathroom and get dressed with a mischievous smile on your face, opting to leave your clothes in his laundry just to try and be sneaky in order to have a reason to stop by on your own next time. 

             By the time you exit the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you’re left wondering if you should squeeze up against Chan and actually just crash here, or if you should go cause more tension with his dad, who is very clearly still awake in his bedroom because you can hear his television in there. Unsure of if you’ve crossed a line or not, your confidence is at an all time high after seeing him apologize for getting hard while looking at you. Clearly, you’re not tired, definitely not after that. He appears to be taking an interest and yes, you’re gonna see just how interested he is.

             Taking a deep breath, you pad down the hallway and knock gently at his bedroom door. You think up any excuse to give him when he creaks the door open, but thankfully you didn’t have to try too hard.

 “Where should I sleep?” You ask in mock-shyness, rubbing your thighs together and noting that he appears to be slightly out of breath. 

             Mingyu, mid-jerk off session, was not expecting you to actually keep approaching him. He is entirely too weak now, as if he wasn’t already. He still has precum against his palm when he opens his door, and you’re standing there staring up at him with damp skin and his son’s loose ass shirt hanging over your legs– jesus.

 “Um,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking down the hallway and listening for any sound that could indicate his son was awake, “Where ever you want?” He calms himself with the silence, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his bedsheets and release himself of these filthy thoughts of you. 

 “In here then.” You boldly state, pressing a palm against his door and staring directly at the wet spot against his hastily pulled-up sweatpants.

 “Wait, hold on,” Mingyu whispers as he stops you from opening his door any further. “What are you trying to do?” 

             He didn’t expect you to actually answer that question. 

 “I thought I made that obvious?” You admit, now feeling your confidence break a bit because you really thought he was also sending signals. 

 “You did, but I can’t just let this happen.” Mingyu follows up with his own admittance, noting the way your face falls, and instantly he feels fucking bad about it. A face so pretty shouldn’t be looking so defeated by a mere rejection out of pure moral stance, he really shouldn’t say anything more. 

             He watches as you slowly nod, accepting his rejection and preparing to turn around and probably get in your car to go home. Against his better judgment and allowing his weakness to take hold, he speaks up again. 

 “Wait, wait, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” You perk right back up as he talks. “I just– I can’t do that to him.”

 “Do what to him?” You tilt your head at him, lifting your palm back to his door to try and press it open again, shockingly, he lets you this time. “He and I aren’t dating, he’s never even tried anything with me when he’s sober.”

             Mingyu thinks hard about this now, stepping back from his door and knowing for a fact that the moment you step into his room it’s over for him. He didn’t expect you to be like this, but god it’s doing something for him. Are you this forward towards his son, or would you be this forward toward him if he actually made a sober move on you? No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, with the way you’re clearly trying to come onto him.

 “That isn’t the point, I’m not that kind of person.” Mingyu tries to argue, eyes boring holes through you with lust that doesn’t match his argument at all.

             You don’t want to push him if he’s genuinely not wanting to do this with you, but god, you’ve imagined this far more than you’d like to admit. 

 “Would you though? If the circumstances were different?”

             Mingyu appears to be totally lost at this point, standing there as he watches you step through his doorway, looking so….touchable in his son’s clothes. 

 “Fuck, yeah.” He sighs out this time, blatantly staring you down before realizing what he just said, and he struggles to take back the words. 

             You watch as his sweatpants move along with the twitch of his length beneath, and you do little to sway his break of control. If anything, you make it harder by stepping closer to him. 

 “If I asked you to touch me right now, would you?” You ask him, closing the distance and practically feeling his warmth pull you in.

             If he wasn’t in the middle of pleasuring himself when you knocked, he would be able to turn you away, but he was so fucking close. And now you’re actually in this room with him, much like he was imagining. 

 “I shouldn’t,” He whispers in defeat, all while his hand reaches out to yours and trails it straight to his clothed cock. “This is not something I should want to do–”

             You feel him twitch under your palm, warm from his arousal. You wonder if he was in here thinking about you before you knocked. 

 “Were you jerking off to me?” You ask bluntly, squeezing him and watching the way he releases a sigh before his eyes fall back onto yours, darker than before. 

 “Close the door.” He says, ignoring your question and stepping past his own boundary line. 

             Even when you pull away from him with a wicked smirk, his hips chase your palm until it’s out of reach and you’re silently closing his door. You approach him quickly this time, reaching between his legs without a hint of fear as you squeeze around him to make him release a sigh similar to the one before. 

 “Were you?” You ask again, jerking your hand up a bit and feeling the thickness of him, rubbing your legs together once again. This is really happening this time, and it was almost too easy.

             Mingyu nods shamefully, reaching to grab your wrist and halt its movements.

 “Wait,” He warns, throwing his head back for a moment with a frustrated groan. He’s arguing with himself in his head, sending mixed signals of what he wants and then immediately pulling back. “I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

             You pause, looking at him and the way he rolls his head forward to look at you again. You say nothing and your hand remains halted against his length as he makes a mental list of the  pros and cons of this situation. It’s entirely silent, and you smile when he bucks his hips up against your palm, seemingly making a decision. 

 “Shit,” he groans with a breathy chuckle, rubbing himself against you. You can see his bicep flex as he holds your hand there, and you honestly expected him to be more in control of his body. Somehow, it’s far more sexy to see him fight himself over you. 

 “Let me,” you comment gently, trying to move your hand and feeling the way he relaxes under it with another low rumble of a moan. “I want to.” 

  He’s already crossed his moral line, and the guilt that could come from this is replaced with arousal. The thoughts he had of you from before all could come true at this moment, and possibly only happen just this once. 

 Mingyu’s eyes are drawn to your hand against him and he bucks his hips towards the warmth on instinct. It feels so good to be touched by someone other than himself. He’s going to let himself have you, just this once. Hopefully, Chan won’t find out, and hopefully, this won’t happen again. 

             Your hand moves so gently over his length that despite barely feeling it through the thick sweatpants, it somehow sends shivers down his spine. He can’t keep his hips from moving, and he can’t stop breathing out little sounds because it genuinely feels like he’s fucking melting at your touch. Sure, it would probably be this way if anyone were to touch him like this after so long of being alone, but the fact that it’s you… for some reason has his head spinning. Out of anyone on this planet that he should be doing this with, it’s you. 

             You switch between watching his face to watching his hips. A man so broad and intimidating in stature is acting much like an inexperienced man being touched for the first time, and it’s throwing you for a loop. Just a little bit. After imagining him pinning you down, tearing you apart, and talking down to you so many times– it’s a bit of a shock seeing him do everything but that. 

 The look in his eyes is reluctant but his hips move with purpose against your hand. It’s cute. Watching him somehow seem so composed but unraveling all at once over your hand alone is something you’ve never experienced, so you were more than happy to snake your hand under the waistband of his sweats and watch him shiver at the sensation. 

 When you feel the warmth between his legs and the slippery beads of precum dripping out of him, it was easy to grasp him and imagine the weight of his cock inside of you. That alone blew your pupils out as you stare up at him, learning the ways in which he prefers to get touched. 

             His hips don’t stop moving towards you, and even at this angle of simply standing in front of him, you can feel the desperate force behind his movements. It’s so insanely hot to be doing this with Mingyu at all that you think you’d accept just about anything from him at this point.

             It only took less than a minute of jerking him off beneath those sweats when he dips his head down. You can feel his breath against you, fanning against your chin until it’s replaced with his hand, skewing your head away so that he can attach his lips directly to your neck.

             God, it’s something he’s doing. Holding you there, breathing heavily as his tongue swipes your pulse point with little muffled sighs as your hand grips and squeezes him. You can feel his hips continue to speed up, fucking into the circle your fingers make around him. For a solid moment there, you thought you were dreaming, but his raspy voice pulls you from that idea, planting you back in reality. 

 “I’ve thought about this a few times,” he whispers, kissing his way to the other side of your neck. “Have you?”

             You nod, feeling more pre-cum drip from him. Your hand glides up and down his length perfectly as he moves his hips in sync, laying sloppy and breathy kisses just below your ear.

 “I’ve thought about this since the first day I saw you,” you admit, leaning your head back a bit to try and get him to look at you, “I didn’t imagine you being this big though, Mr.Kim.”

             Mingyu does pull back at the name, his lips slack and puffy as he looks at you with disapproval.

 “Mm, don’t call me that, sweetheart. Mingyu is fine,” he pauses as you nod to him, and winces a bit at the way your fingers tease the head of his cock so beautifully. He has to breathe through his nose to keep himself from shoving you to the floor and spreading you open on him. “I’m not turned on because of a power dynamic–” He admits with a sigh. 

 “Oh?” You question, pressing yourself up against him and gaining a new angle for your wrist to begin flicking around his length. “Why are you doing it then?” 

             You are curious as to why he’s found an interest in you, though you refuse to question it. If it’s like it is in porn, where it’s strictly the age gap or the idea of having the power of another, so be it. It appears though, that Mingyu has other reasons. 

 “Because I want to know how you sound when you’re drenching my cock and saying my name.”

             Oh, there’s the Mingyu you imagined so many times before. Saying filthy things already, making your legs feel like jelly at the sheer image of him letting you drench him. You felt those words hit you right in the core. Your entire body tenses out of pleasure. You’re fucking tingling, and instantly pressing him forward to see if he really meant what he said. 

             Mingyu isn’t used to talking dirty these days though, but he can see the way you react to those words. Being led to his own bed by you says enough about how that made you feel. 

             When he falls back on the bed, you see the way his darkened pupils overtake the fond smile on his lips, and when you pull your hand from his pants and try to crawl on top of him, it confuses you when he stops you. 

             You look down at him, tilting your head in question before he speaks.

 “Take his clothes off first, I want to see you,” he mumbles, his own hands rubbing down his abs and his fingers tucking under his own sweats. 

             You nod, backing yourself up and sliding Chan’s boxers down your legs. You watch the way Mingyu watches you, seemingly treating this like a show as he slips his hand under his sweats and resumes to himself what you had been doing for him before. The hidden movement under those sweats ignites a fire inside of you, the reality of Mingyu pleasuring himself to you taking off his son’s clothes hits you so fucking hard. You feel desired by a man that shouldn’t desire you, and it makes you feel so fucking sexy.

 He’s watching you hard and even lets a small and choked-out moan fall from his lips when you begin to lift the shirt off of you. 

 “Anyone would be lucky to have you,” he compliments, blatantly squeezing his palm around the base of his length and imagining that it’s you sinking down on him. “Come here.” 

             As he reaches his free hand out to invite you on top of it, the words he said make you buckle into a world of shyness. You almost want to hide your face from his fond and darkened eyes, especially as he continues to palm against himself even as if you sit on his thighs. 

             You watch the movements under his sweats until your eyes are torn from the act, his warm hand pressing you up further and then guiding your face down to his. There, you expect to share a kiss with him, but he just ghosts his lips over yours, eyes falling into a half-lidded look. Your own eyes flutter closed, parting your lips for him– but instead of feeling him kiss you, you only feel his words come out in sighed mumbles. 

 “How do you feel about feeling my tongue on you?” he whispers, flexing his arm at your side as he fucks into his own fist harder now that he has you on top of him.

             You open your eyes to look at him, noting his dazed smile, pupils blown under those half-closed lids. You’ve never ridden a man’s face before, despite having been eaten out several times. You’re a little nervous, but he nods an encouragement out to you as he attempts to guide you further up. 

 “Don’t be shy, babe. I want to taste you,” he pauses to look at your face, trying to show that you can say no, even with your pussy already nearing where he wants it to be. “Yeah?”

             You give him a shy nod, scooting up until you’re sitting on his chest and leaning back a bit. You’re trying to remain confident enough to do it yourself, but he continues to guide you, all the way until you’re propping yourself up with your knees on either side of his head. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your thighs when you hover, and he starts kissing the flesh there, giving you no reason to feel embarrassed at all. It feels almost ticklish, and it makes your legs shake at the sensation. 

             As he continues to kiss against your thighs, you can feel his free hand move to grope your ass, spreading you open just a bit and rocking you just inches from his mouth. The pressure of waiting to feel his tongue on you is one thing, but feeling his big hand guide you to sit a little closer had you obeying instantly. 

             Still trying to remain confident, you look down between your legs and can only see the mess of hair fanned against his mattress, you kind of love the image. Knowing that it’s his face down there, and that’s his tongue working its way on your thigh and closer to your core. You jolt slightly when you feel the warm muscle tease at your folds, flicking gently before his hand begins to rock you against it, encouraging you to grind.

             You’re very reluctant at first, even upon feeling his tongue travel to your clit when he guides your hips back. It’s only when he leans his head up a bit to close any amount of space between his mouth and your pussy, that you release a shaky moan. His tongue circled your clit before sucking hard against it, and it really did make it difficult not to sit harder against him.

             Within seconds of that little sound, you hear the snap of his sweats against his abdomen and you feel both of his hands grasping at your ass. You’re seeing stars instantly when he presses you down all the way and instantly begins to part your pussy with his tongue, grinding you harshly against his mouth until he’s the one sending vibrations of moans through you.

             He lifts you up momentarily after a moment just to look at your pussy over him, and rolls his eyes back in an even filthier-sounding moan. 

 “Do you even know how wet you are?” He asks, staring directly at the way your pussy pulsates above him. “Had no idea you wanted me this bad.” 

             Mingyu doesn’t even let you answer, flattening his tongue before licking a long stripe up your slit and forcing you to sit against him again with those strong hands. He moans again through your sigh of a response, unable to speak as he guides your body on him. His tongue is working wonders on you, causing your head to spin at the way he flicks his tongue against your hole before swirling it all the way up to your clit over and over again. No part of your core feels neglected, and the sensations he’s giving you is something you want to cling to. 

             For him, he wants nothing more than for you to use this to your advantage. He wants nothing more than for you to grind against his tongue and force the taste of you on him until he never forgets the feeling of your pussy on his lips. But this. This is enough, especially compared to how bold you were being before. Feeling your legs shake around his head only drives him to keep going. He wants to hear you, taste you, feel you. He wants you to know what it’s like to have a real man pleasure you.

             He opts this time to grind your pussy forward until his nose is nuzzled against your clit and his tongue is teasing your entrance and he leaves you that way. Frantically moving his hand back to his cock and letting out a filthy groan against you as he finally gains his own friction again. You barely notice, feeling jolts of pleasure shoot through your body as you grind without intention this time, chasing the feeling in the same way he was guiding you. 

             When you do that, you feel him nod with a growl before slipping his tongue into you and tasting the way your walls clench even that. He sounds filthy and the fact that he seems to really enjoy that you’re doing this? It only drives you to actually ride his face, sliding back and forth, fucking yourself against his tongue until you slide all the way back just to see his face. 

 “Am I hurting you?” You ask, your pussy clenching at the image of him.

             He doesn’t respond and instead looks at you with a face driven by arousal, his tongue dipping back into his mouth to taste, then sticking it out again for you to continue your pleasure on. When you don’t, he shakes his head and clears his throat a bit, attempting to answer you. 

 “Fuck, no. You could go harder sweetheart, come on.” He urges you, moving his hand faster against himself when you shyly blink at him, hovering your core above him just enough for him to lift his head and do it himself at your reluctance.

 He frantically licks against you in a way that he’s never done before. Tongue slipping in and out of every crease and crevice to taste the entirety of you before fucking his tongue in once again when your weak grinds allow it. You watch his head move between your legs and you do your best to commit this image to your memory. You really get to sit on this man’s face, and he’s really just— fucking going insane for it like this? 

             Moaning out once again, you can feel your legs shake each time his nose bumps your clit, and you clench around his tongue each time he tries to essentially fuck you that way. It’s a lot, and god you’ve never been with a man who eats pussy like this. The way he moans through it, the way you can feel his arm jerking himself off, the way he occasionally tries to look up at you.

 “Mingyu, I–” you try to say, letting your legs buckle and sitting flush against his tongue again, resuming the weak grinds you had offered before. “You should stop, before I–”

             He taps your leg, causing you to lift a bit before he speaks out in an even raspier voice.

 “Do it. On my tongue.” He pleads without letting you answer, shoving you by your ass directly back onto his mouth and somehow, licking you with even more pressure. 

             You can feel him nod when you jerk your hips on him, his free hand guiding you back and forth in a harsher way. His tongue fucks into you a few more times before he’s holding you in place, attaching his lips to your clit, and sucking so hard against it that you feel that wave of pleasure hit you like a bag of bricks. 

             He made it happen so fast, legs squeezing around his head as you jolt and stutter against his tongue that flattens out and bumps your clit. You hold yourself there, swirling your hips and drenching his mouth entirely. You clench around nothing, orgasming solely from clit stimulation and it makes your ears pop and ring as you work through it. 

             And by the time you’re done, you panic. Is he okay? You’re sure you squeezed his head with your legs too tightly, you sat too hard, and you rutted against his tongue until he couldn’t breathe.

             Quickly, you slide off of his face, feeling embarrassed and quite frankly, apologetic that you did that but instead of finding a nearly choked out man, you see him lying there with a glistening face and a filthy fucking smile. 

 “You ride so well, sweetheart,” he compliments, quickly pulling his hand from his cock to prevent his own orgasm, “ you sounded so pretty like that.”

             He thinks hard about this, knowing that this is probably what his son wishes he can do for you, but at this point, he’s not even sorry. The way you choke out quiet sobs of pleasure, the way your legs were shaking around him, the way you fucking tasted against his tongue. No, he gets to be selfish. Fuck all else, he’s going to let you ruin him. 

 “Lie back, babe.” He says gently, waiting for you to adjust yourself comfortably against the bed before pulling his sweats off of him and shivering at the cold air that hits his pre-cum soaked length. He looks at you as you lay there, grabbing a pillow and adjusting it under your head with a soft smile before touching your face. 

 “Can I fuck you?” He asks, leaning to hover over you and running his hand down your waist. 

             Your eyes trail straight to the cock you hadn’t been able to actually see yet, seeing the way it glistens and twitches with the need to be touched. You want nothing more than for this man to plunge himself so deeply inside of you, that you can only say his name when you get fucked by anyone else. 

             His eyes watch yours as you stare between his legs and he easily slots himself between yours, fawning over the way your body heaves as you continue to catch your breath from that last orgasm. 

 “Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, yet again gripping himself and pumping against his own length as he waits for you to answer. 

             You nod, rolling your hips and bumping your warm, saliva-soaked, pussy against the knuckles of his hand as he pumps himself. He loves how your neediness matches his own, and he coos at the way you say nothing but communicates solely through grinding against nothing for him to fill you up. 

             The chuckle he lets out at you is another thing you had thought about time and time again. Being laughed at, degraded. Mingyu is everything and nothing like what you imagined him to be, but he’s also making you feel better than you imagined too. You blink up at him, trying to muster the words for him, wanting to see the fire in his eyes ignite further than it already has. 

 “I like it rough, deep.”

             Yeah, that did something for him, you can tell with the way he drops his head and immediately positions his length against you. 

 “How deep, sweetheart?” He asks, teasing your hole with the head of his cock and pressing in only slightly. 

             You roll your hips forward, enveloping his tip and smiling at him. You think he loses himself right then and there, pressing into you with one long and languid thrust, committing the feeling of your inner walls hugging his cock tightly to memory, pulsating around him until he bottoms out with a released sigh. 

 “So fucking deep,” he says more to himself then to you, holding himself above you and bracing one hand at the side of your head and the other on your waist. “Deeper.” He coos, angling himself slightly and pressing into you more somehow. 

             You can’t fucking breathe, feeling him, seeing him, smelling him. You’re actually fucking the Kim Mingyu right now. All of your wet dreams compiled into one fucking instance and it’s happening to you right now in the early morning hours while your recent crush is dozed off in the living room. 

             You clench, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep yourself from moaning as loud as you’d like to right now.

             He waits for you to adjust, twitching inside of you and working up a sweat as he attempts to control himself until you’re ready for the second half of your request. You wanna be fucked deep, and you wanna be fucked rough? Lucky him, because he’s about three seconds from ruining the both of you out of sheer desperation to feel your pretty hole squeeze him through orgasm.

 “And rough?” He whispers, leaning down and whispering against your ear. You can feel his grip on your waist tighten when he pulls his hips back, relieving the pressure inside of you before pressing in again.

             The moan he lets out against your neck is honestly the best thing you think you’ve ever heard, your nipples perk up at the sound of him fucking you, and you do everything you can to encourage him to do just that. 

             You nod with a broken moan, desperate enough to have him pulling back to look at you as he slides out again, and then plunges into you once, hard. The way your body shifts up as his hips meet your thighs is enough to have him doing it again, and again. A string of hard, deep, and pointed thrusts sending little yelps out of your throat each time his hips spread your legs a bit more for him.

             The hand on your waist moves up to your left nipple and he pinches it slightly before falling forward again, bracing himself on both arms at either side of your head. His rhythm sends him over the edge and makes him fuck into you even harder as he breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. 

 “Sweetheart?” he lets out between deep breaths, the sound of slapping echoing to the point that you hope it doesn’t wake up the sleeping boy in the other room, “hold onto me.” 

             You don’t know why that does it for you, but it fucking does. You didn’t even realize you needed something to hold on to until you released you were gripping the covers with tightened knuckles. Releasing the blankets, you throw your arms around his shoulders. 

 “Legs too,” he chuckles, licking against your bottom lip in a teasing kind of way.

             Your legs shoot around him too, squeezing his body and pushing him to thrust into you in a way that keeps his cock almost completely buried into you, thrusting tightly. Only an inch or two leaving you before the head of his cock bumps the deepest part of your inner walls. 

             Feeling that, knowing that Mingyu’s cock is reaching where no cock has gone before, you tilt your chin up and connect your lips with him. The first heated kiss sends shockwaves through your body and causes you to clench so tightly around him, that he fucking growls into it rather than moaning. 

             His pointed thrusts grow tighter, faster, and your arms continue to hug and squeeze against him as your tongue swirls around his. Teeth clinking, his sweat dripping a bit to the point of even tasting a bit of that salt fall past his lips and against yours.

             Both of you are fucking gone, deep breaths and deep thrusts, his cock is pressing against that spot inside of you and all you can do is fucking– you let go.

             Your mouth falls slack against his own, and he continues to lick into your mouth until he realizes. Your pussy jolts around him and he pulls his head back, watching you fall into a state of bliss before he’s instantly shoving his hand between the tight space of your bodies and harshly rubbing your clit. 

 “Oh, baby,” he coos out in his own moan, the image of actually seeing you come sending him over the edge himself. “That’s it,” he moans again, chasing his own high and feeling dangerously close already, “So pretty, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

             And there he goes too. You’re still riding out the last of your high when you feel him still his hips and press himself impossibly closer to you. He can feel your walls hug him, squeezing his come out of him in such a filthy way that he can’t help but whisper and babble out nonsense to you. Words of, you feel so good, i wanted this so badly, fuck yes–, fuck, fuck, just going to let me come in you like this?, fuck, oh, god. 

             It was a lot of nonsense, but to you and your dazed-out thoughts, it sounded like a mantra. 

             Even as the two of you laid there, fucked out and out of breath, neither of you felt any guilt. Why should you? Because you have (had) a crush on Chan? You’re not dating him, you’re an adult, and you can fuck whoever you want. Mingyu’s thought process is similar, though he’s sure the guilt will hit him later if anything were to happen. 

 ~

             The guilt did hit him later. He’d say around the time you stopped by three days after you spent the night to pick up your clothes. 

             Did he fuck you again? Yes. Right up against the washer in his tiny laundry room. Just as deep, but not as rough. 

 Is he only growing more weak towards you? Absolutely. Especially when you continue to find reasons to see him without Chan around. 

Unsure of what the future holds between the two of you, Mingyu tries not to think of you as anything more than someone he casually has sex with. If you and Chan start dating, that’ll be fucking awkward, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to believe that will ever happen. Not when he’s already had you moaning his name, not when you wrap your arms around him the way you do.

~

― part two here!

[chemicalarospec]

My Death Note Playlists (prt 1 of my fav lyrics)

They're basically all "emo" btw.

I have two: the full playlist

and the "canon compliant" version -- which does NOT mean the songs support a canon-compliant interpretation, but that they were released before 2010. Canon timeline, you see, ignoring the 9/11 thing. (I'm a little more picky with this one in general.)

Okay now I'm just going to highlight my favorite lyrics that I blorbo brain all over (predominantly Light, and lots of Lawlight ranging from platonic murder to romantic lovers to romantic murder). It will be long, so here's a cut!

I'll pick out songs going down "full playlist" in order.

"Liar (It Takes One to Know One)" by Taking Back Sunday

Obvious, but "we're all choir boys at best" deserves attention. "It takes one to know one" shouted at the end -- all of Light and L knowing each other better than anyone.

"Juneau" by Funeral for a Friend

"I'm nothing more than a line in your book." Hey, I didn't say all these connections were good.

"Spin" by Taking Back Sunday

The whole thing is very Light to L.

"Looking for a Tornado" by Chiodos

Maybe I got a little lost while searching for my faith stuck to your cross You set fire to everything around [...] Do I believe in love; do I believe in heaven? (At the sound of church bells, they come running) All my clocks stuck on eleven; afraid if I hit my knees, I might get nothing

^ Lawlight /romantic intent /sexual intent

This is the sound of your savior running in need of anything to save you from nothing

^ bonus God/savior complex Light

"Always and Never" by Silverstein - "Don't have a heart attack"

"War Crimes" by Waterparks

kinda Light and Misa. "I wear a smile that's about a mile wide" lol. and "My death will be the fandom [sic]" for L.

"The Words 'Best Friend' Become Redefined" by Chiodos

The title as their fake-friendship-with-murderous-intent. Lyrics as romantic dying Lawlight. +"To hide from our twisted ways/I've been hiding in this bed"

"Fist Wrapped in Blood" by Silverstein

I love toxic couples. Cannibalism couples. Violence couples. (Some tntduo vibes in this one too, xoxo tntduo, still kinda my OTP.) "A Midwestern State Of Emergency" for similar reasons (we got the wild line "Bound and gagged but I enjoy it") + "Your saving grace, my final rites"

"One Day All Women Will Become Monsters" by Chiodos <3

That title but also "Always being the blind villain" -> Blind Lady Justice Light Yagami!!! + "Rip the haunting smirk from his face"

"Thank You for the Venom" by My Chemical Romance

Now I want to listen to Three Cheers looking for Death Note songs. (If I wasn't still finishing tntduo demolition lovers, Death Note demolition lovers would be sooo in.) Anyways: "I keep a gun on the book you gave me."

"Hard to Breathe" by Hawthorne Heights

"I spent my whole life lying/I just got caught." This one gets a big heading b/c that line is still the working title for my Light fic (yeah, it'll get posted. one day).

"There's no Penguins in Alaska" by Chiodos is a rare Misa moment on the playlist.

"Timberwolves at New Jersey" by Taking Back Sunday

"Literate and stylish/kissable and quiet/that's what girls' dreams are made of" and "This is you trying hard to make sure that you're seen/With a girl on your arm and your heart on your sleeve" = Light. Plus, the "me at my worst (committing murder)" theme of second half of the song

"Where Can I Stab Myself in the Ears" by Hawthorn Heights - "This is the ending, here's my surrender" & the complementing each other bridge theme. and lying.

"Why the Munsters Matter" by Chiodos

"I don't want to fit into your world/your heart/I hope I scare you"!!!!! It's NOT what happens in Death Note but it IS what Light and L are about IN MY HEAD.

"Ole Fishlips is Dead Now" is another rare Misa song. The "she's in love with herself" line but the subject is Light.

"Goldmine" by Paper Tigers

(link leads to song b/c the band is pretty indie)

Maybe that's something I admire Maybe you've made another enemy of me ... You goldmine Every little thing that you say It blows away my mind ... They say that pride proceeds the fall And that the sword is weaker than the pen

rare L to Light song on the playlist

"Your Sword Versus My Dagger" by Silverstein

Another Discovering the Waterfront track. "I'm cutting through, you're bleeding out/And I would tell the truth, but I can't help myself" + "I wasn't asking for the world" as another Light inverse/lying line (or kinda Misa) + "And I can see your face, and I can hear your name" in reference to Death Note rules lol.

"Is it Progression If A Cannibal Uses A Fork?" by Chiodos

"Listen up, sweetie!/We all know that you're a beautiful girl in this horrible world." - Light lol

"The solemn tolling of the funeral bells. I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours where everyday's a Bone Palace Ballet."

"Divine Intervention" by Taking Back Sunday

rare soft song -- cutesy by Lawlight standards

Despondent, distracted You're vicious and romantic These are a few of my favorite things ... Something real, make it timeless An act of God and nothing less will be accepted ... We're stubborn and melodramatic A real class act

~a little skipping ahead to songs I wrote up out of order... part two will probably come next week!~

"The Brothers Karamazov" by The Used

all of it. but especially "I'm more than just my father's son" as an inverse of Light who is so little more than the son of a cop, "I see myself in everything I hate about you/I shut my mouth to stop myself from sounding like you" as him and L, and "Take me away from who I could become" as the conflict between Light and the influence of the Death Note.

"Chemicals" by Armor for Sleep

Lyrics about "you" dying ("I can picture your coffin"!!!) and the general vibe and:

And I’m on my back, on your floor. Tell me how you fooled the world again, I like how you laugh when you tell it

^ both L and Misa work. Light's evil laugh.

Play dead, cause I’ll be playing dead with you. I’ll play you when you’re dead in a year or two.

^ Light pretending to be L after he's dead.

"Three Simple Words" by Finch

"My hand's around your throat/who will stop me now?" !!! throwback to "Until the Day I Die", which I didn't highlight but also has "hands at your throat". I like the aggressive & repetitive usage in this song better. Light to L, of course.

Tune in next week for more of the same! (btw I had a lot going on so it's still not up but will edit this when I do it)

[rhaaclaws]

do you have any voiceclaims for your ocs?

TOOK ME A WHILE TO GET TO THIS BC FINDING CERTAIN VOICECLAIMS IS HARDDDDD like I can hear them in my mind but I cant just Project that. Anyways, this got real long so its under the cut

✨ Akemi Masuwaka

I always imagined her with a higher and cuter voice and what I imagine is Yoko Oginome's voice.

🌌 Andros Stellar*

His voiceclaim is Courtney Love but specifically in the Hole song Teenage Whore. I chose Love's voice because of the raspiness and just Raw emotion in it. I do prefer to use examples from her songs though bc of the vocal fry + it's more accurate to my vision

☢ Ayumu Van Halen

He's my cool guy and of courseeee i had to give him Spider One's voice from Powerman 5000. They've got a pretty deep voice and Spider One's is perfecttt for it

🧤 Chimera Reznor

While on the higher pitch spectrum, their actual voice [not augmented by its stand] is still very broken and often cracks. Her voiceclaim is Jessicka of Jack Off Jill

🔂 Dani Navarro

im. in love with her but listen he is THE most californian person ever man it's almost too much. he's a surfer and a bassist and also born and raised in Los Angeles. literally the closest I can get to is this vid and even then, she always says “dude”, “bro”, or “man” at the end of a sentence with a vocal fry. love and joy

🗡 Darling Nikki

Literally, the hardest one to pin down because their entire character is based on the fact that she is a mirror to people to get them to trust her easier. So the voice is more of a Ranged thing than a set one. I once had them appear in my dream though and I'm so mad i can't exactly send that as an example. But her voice ranges from Damiano David of Måneskin to Meryl Streep's performance as Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. They usually speak with a very breathy tone, almost whispering in your ear, but with some rasp. For screams though she sounds like the song Nakedness Of Need by Pharmakon. Aaaaand if you're about to get eaten [or are lucky enough to be part of her polycule] they sound like Machine Screw by Type O Negative [which does not have a definitive credit]

🌹 Beatrice Franco

While a very minor character, she's Nikki's mother and I cannot leave her out of this. She sounds like Myss Keta <3

👻 Jing Kalachuchi

They have a small but permanent echo to their voice. It's a voice that is very light and airy, as if a ghost was trying to talk to you. For this, as much as I dislike this person, I think she'd sound like Grimes in the song Oblivion. She doesn't speak much though and often forgets she can't communicate with living people the same way they do with spirits.

🕶 Mariqueen Westwood

My loveeee <3 Her voice often cracks and sounds like its about to give out but she loves to be loud soooo it doesn't matter much to her. For this the best example would be Patti Smith's voice in the live version of My Generation

⌨ NikitA Nakamoto

I can't exactly say what they sound like because 99% of the time they are using a voice augmentor. The closest I can really get to is Viktor from League Of Legends, but you can just imagine a 90s techno DJ and it'd fit ngl

💄 Sayoko Kawakubo

She sounds like Sade 100%. She has a very very smooth voice that is so perfect for her more quiet personality in contrast to her past job as a supermodel

🦠 Sheri Moon Teese

I already had her voice picked out from the beginning and it's Jennifer Tilly's performance as Violet in Bound (1996). It has a very sultry voice that is a joy to listen to [especially to her wife <3]

⛓ Steele [Jäger Wolfgang Heinekein]

This is such an Obvious choice but 💔Peter Steele's voice with a rasp and a heavy ” German “ accent [she's from 1700s Prussia, kinda hard to put that in modern accents]. I can't really get an accurate voice esp since thon's voice is more androgynous in a complicated way to explain but bear with me man

Thierry Itō [can't get the emoji to work on my PC so ill edit this on my phone later]

Probably one of my favorite voiceclaims: Patricia Morrison of The Gun Club, Sisters Of Mercy, and The Damned. They have this smooth and comforting voice and it's really helpful considering they are a therapist. You could listen to anything they say and you just want to hear it until you fall asleep because of how soothing it is.

🍸 Valentino Schiaparelli

Also a favorite of mine, his voice sounds like Prince's. From everything about the pitch, the mannerisms, the dramatics, it just fits him perfectly and most importantly: oh my god he needs to have some slay going for him

👑 Phthonus “The Prince” Morrissey

They've got one of the most recognizable voices imo, and it's that of Jinx from League Of Legends/Arcane. I think it really matches their appearance and the mask they put around others

📐 Guccio Piranesi

He has the voice and wavering of Peter Garrett of Midnight Oil, specifically in the song Beds Are Burning. But he's got a really fun way of talking that I can't just leave out when speaking. He constantly repeats his sentences in different ways to get one point across, so much to the point where he ends up overexplaining and overcomplicating the message so it's hard to understand what he's saying.

While this isn't everyone, the rest I either do not have enough confidence to set down a specific voice, or I haven't developed their character enough yet.

[selesera]

the archer is an elain archeron song 💘

how you ask?? "why do I care" you ask??

you might not care but I'm gonna tell you anyways 😌

SO, I took a small break from playing Midnights on repeat to listen to different tswift songs (it's called ✨variety✨ tysm)

The Archer came up and I just thought it was perfect for Elain (disclaimer: I love elucien and this is very elucien heavy)

We start with:

Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies

Picture: Elain in the Night Court, she's tired of being passive, tired of silencing herself, her opinions and her wants just to keep the peace. She has seen how Feyre and Nesta are allowed to have tempers and Amren can be ruthless and Mor can say what she wants and everyone loves them still... why can't she say what she wants too?

I'm gonna break up the next lines a bit more - think of these in the context of elucien:

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Elain has a lot that she needs to talk about with Lucien. You can't tell me that she has ZERO thoughts about having a fae mate - even if she doesn't want him, she has to think about it enough to make a decision. Imagine her imagining how she could confront him and have the conversations she wants to have but can't because she doesn't know him.

Easy they come, easy they go

This makes me think of things that are difficult having the best payoff - their relationship is not easy but that's what is gonna make it so so sweet when they do get together!

I jump from the train, I ride off alone I never grew up, it's getting so old Help me hold onto you

Elain jumped off the mate train and said "no thank you" (it's the Archeron way 😂) maybe she's not being the moooost mature about it but homegirl needs to heal - and the last line: she needs Lucien to help her accept him.

I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

It's written in acotar that Elain is extroverted; she could command a ballroom with grace, beauty and charm but then the rug is pulled out from under her and now she has gone through something traumatizing. I'm sure she still has that confidence that is trying to come through but as many do when we're in a difficult head space, we look for facts to back up our assertions: "who could ever leave me? I'm beautiful and charming and interesting" well.... Grayson left. And if he left, who else could leave?

Dark side, I search for your dark side But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here? And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost The room is on fire, invisible smoke And all of my heroes die all alone Help me hold onto you

Picture Elain finally in a place where she is slowly letting Lucien in but she's been hurt and she's not about to shackle herself to this guy just because he wants her. So what if it's petty and bratty? This ain't her first rodeo sir! She's scared that he could hurt her too but the pull is just undeniable and she can barely hold herself back from him anymore and he's starting to prove to her that he can be trusted to hold her.

I've been the archer, I've been the prey Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? (I see right through me, I see right through me)

Who else could leave? Azriel. Azriel left her at solstice in the bonus chapter - that's two heartbreaks/ego bruises my bbygirl just wants to be loved 🥺

'Cause they see right through me They see right through me They see right through Can you see right through me? They see right through They see right through me I see right through me I see right through me All the king's horses, all the king's men Couldn't put me together again 'Cause all of my enemies started out friends Help me hold onto you

Lucien can see her, who she really is, and loves her, wants her, is patient with her, is down bad for her - he's the real deal.

I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? (I see right through me, I see right through me) Who could stay? Who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay You could stay You Combat, I'm ready for combat

Lucien could stay. and they lived happily ever after 😌✨

[c-e-d-dreamer]

This is so long and so angsty, and I am so sorry! Also, I took the “Music” prompt a bit loosely and based this off music lyrics? Hope that counts. Song is I Do by Wild Rivers :) @nessianweek

My sweater on your bedroom floor, you can take that // You don’t want my love no more, honey I can shake that

Cassian swallows down a sigh as he opens up the trash bag in his hands. The crinkle of it as he shakes it out is especially loud in the quiet of his bedroom, like a crack of thunder ringing in his ears. Leave it to Mor to demand that he “spring clean” and “finally get rid of that shit you hoard” only to bustle out of his apartment without even an offer to help. 

The living room had been an easy place to start. The photos had been one of the first things he had removed post-breakup, so there wasn’t much left out there anyways. But his bedroom. Well, he isn’t sure the last time he'd really gone through his closet. 

He opens the doors to find various clothing and items strewn about haphazardly. Some are on hangers, some are stuffed onto the shelf above, and a good chunk litter the floor. He tries to organize as he goes, pulling out and sorting through the different items to decide which to keep and which to donate. He’s sifting through the pile on the floor when his hand brushes against something soft and somehow familiar. With a tug, he comes face to face with a small cream colored sweater. The sight of it has him falling back onto his ass, his breath hitching as he runs his thumb along the cable knit pattern. 

If he closes his eyes, he can see them here, see her in this very sweater. He can feel the sweater under his palms as he slides his hands over her waist, feel the delicious warmth of her skin as slips his fingers under the hem. He can hear her laughter in his ear, like a favorite song he wants to bottle up and play on loop, as he presses kisses to her neck and behind her ear. 

Cassian digs the palms of his hands into his eyes like he can scrub the image from behind them, but all it does it make his chest ache. Like a damn full of splintering cracks, barely held together with tape. He can feel that familiar thickness clawing its way into his throat, and he can’t take it. He tosses the sweater into the trash bag and heads for the kitchen, desperate for a beer. 

I come, you go, back around back around // I see your ghost on a train downtown

Downtown is a mess as always. All Nesta can think about is a glass of wine, the chocolate cake in her fridge that she picked up from Trader Joe’s, and the next chapter of her book waiting for her on her nightstand. But instead, she’s weaving her way through busybodies and tourists who don’t know how to stand on the right and walk on the left. 

Once she gets through the crowds, she walks with practiced ease to the platform she needs, scrolling aimlessly through the array of texts from her sisters and friends from earlier today. She sends off a quick reply to Gwyn and Emerie before sliding her phone back into her bag. She turns to look at the board above the platform to check the wait time of the next train when her eyes catch on something else. Someone else. 

The sight of broad shoulders and a tangle of curls corralled into a top bun has Nesta’s heart stuttering to a painful stop and clenching hard deep between her ribs. She can already feel that all too familiar prick pressing in behind her eyes, threatening release. She can practically hear his laughter from here, loud and booming and so full of life, as he throws his head back.  

All it takes is one thought to send her spiraling back. Back to a calloused hand sliding against her own, fingers curled firmly around hers. Warm. Safe. It takes her back to a nose brushing against her hair at her temple, that laughter in her ear, a promise that screaming at passing trains is the best form of therapy. 

Nesta has to turn away and press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked sound trying to spill forth. When she looks back down the platform, he’s gone, and all Nesta feels is the hollowness pressing in on all sides. 

It’s just a baseball cap, I ain’t even missing // And a Springsteen track, I don’t listen 

Cassian’s late. He knows it. Azriel is going to kill him if he’s not out the door soon. He does another quick check around his room, pulling out drawers in his dresser and even checking under his bed. And then it hits him, a flash behind his eyes harder than a slap across the face. 

It’s the hat being placed on a head of golden brown waves. It’s a soft press of lips against his own and lithe arms winding around his neck. It’s a mumble of “it looks better on me anyways” and clear eyes piercing into his own, deep and smokey blue and glinting like the roiling ocean under a setting sun. 

Cassian has to clench and unclench his fists a few times to get his head right, but then he’s pulling open his closet doors and digging out a different hat to throw over his mess of hair. He snags his keys and sails out the door to his car. When he turns the key in the ignition, the radio hums to life, the familiar lyrics of Springsteen flooding out of the speakers. Cassian almost wants to laugh at his luck. It would be this song. 

Even with Springsteen’s vocals blaring, all Cassian can hear is his own voice singing along, purposefully off-key, her laughter-filled pleas for him to stop as she reaches across and tries to stifle the sounds with her hand over his mouth. With a hard jam of his finger, the radio cuts out. Cassian takes a deep breath, throws the car in reverse, and drives in silence the rest of the way. 

It's just an old habit, I don't gotta kick // Or your best friends' pictures, I don't check 'em

The pile of blankets atop Nesta is the only armor she needs. She curls her body and burrows deeper into them as she opens Instagram on her phone, the small rectangle the only light in her otherwise dark bedroom. She takes a few moments to scroll through the posts on her feed and click through some Stories, but there’s no beating around the bush. She knows why she’s here. 

Her finger hesitates for only a moment over the search button at the bottom of her screen, but then she’s selecting it. It only takes her typing in the “A” before the page comes up, and Nesta refuses to let the shame threatening to heat her skin win at what that means. She clicks on the first picture, taking in the wide smiles, the arms slung casually over shoulders. Nesta bites her lip so hard, that tangy metallic taste floods her tongue. 

She shuts her phone off abruptly, tossing it onto her nightstand before rolling over. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around herself, focusing on the phantom feel of different arms holding her close and warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can feel the press against her back with each breath he took, feel the words “I love you” whispered against her spine. 

Now I'm driving by the place we met // Could you go there?

Cassian’s so distracted, he doesn’t even realize he missed the turn for his apartment. He’s not even fully sure where he’s going until the familiarity starts to sink in. It’s too easy to pull up alongside and throw his car into park. At this hour, it’s all dark through the large windows, but there’s no mistaking the small wooden tables with the chairs stacked atop them. The register and the glass display case. The chalkboard declaring the seasonal drink specials in bright colors and swirling writing. 

Cassian can still taste the sweetness of her drink against his tongue. Can still see her pointedly raised eyebrow and unimpressed frown like it’s branded at the molecular level of his brain. Those eyes cutting through him from the minute they locked with his own. That lilting voice of hers still ringing in his ears and asking him what he thought he was doing with her drink.  

Cassian grips the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turn white, letting his head drop until his forehead meets the leather. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s throwing the car back into drive, letting the coffeeshop fade away in the rearview mirror. 

Now you wanna talk? // Babe I don't care

“Nesta.”

It’s a simple sound. Just her name. But in that soft timbre, in that voice that Nesta’s heard rumble through his chest, it makes her blood freeze over. She knew she never should have agreed to come to this garden party. As soon as the text came through from Feyre, she should have declined. But that voice in the back of her mind, it had niggled, it had gnawed, it had climbed to the forefront, and now she’s standing in Feyre’s backyard, a cup of some sort of punch clutched between her hands and Cassian approaching her.  

“You look good,” he says once in front of her. 

Nesta is sure that has to be a lie. All she feels is weighed down, like every second of every day is spent trudging through thick mud. Concealer can work wonders, but it’s no miracle worker. And with him standing this close, close enough for Nesta to feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off his frame, to smell that combination of fabric softener, cologne, and just him. All she can think about is the air stuttering through her lungs. 

At her silence, Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So, how have you been?” 

It’s casual, and Cassian throws an easy grin her way as he says it. Nesta hates it. She hates the way that he does look good. Hates the happy ease he didn’t even have to try to muster or pretend when he arrived, hugging and laughing with their families. Hates that she can tell the laughter lines around his eyes have gotten deeper. 

“No,” Nesta says, turning on her heel abruptly and heading back toward the house. 

She hears Cassian call after her, but she doesn’t stop. She’s surprised the whole backyard doesn’t hear the crack resounding from her chest, leaving shards of glass embedded deep in the skin. 

I see you out in a bar downtown, but you look so different like you don't go thinking, but I do

Cassian watches the ice cubes bubble and clink in his glass of whiskey. He gives the glass another swirl before throwing the amber liquid back, reveling in the burn against his throat. He tosses a couple bills onto the bar-top and slides off the stool with a sigh. He turns toward the exit but his eyes catch on the other end of the bar. 

Nesta is there, and Cassian’s entire body feels like it’s been set on fire as he takes her in, the gentle waves tumbling over her shoulders, the small black dress clinging to her every curve. He recognizes Gwyn and Emerie standing with her. He sees her laugh at something one of them says. Over the music and the crowds of the bar, he can't hear it, but it still rips through his chest like an arrow. Before he can even make a conscious decision, his legs are carrying him toward her, always toward her, like a ship brought home to safety by a lighthouse. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says once he steps up behind her. 

She turns and looks up at him, and his breath hitches in his chest all over again. His fingers itch to brush the hair away from her face, tuck it behind her ear and run the pads of his fingers through the ends. Her eyes are guarded and it makes his gut twist, urging him to press his lips against her skin until that look melts away like it used to. Maybe if he’d had another glass of whiskey he’d be feeling more brave. But the alcohol thrumming in his veins gives him enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning a hole through his head and heart. 

“Do you ever think about us?” he asks, voice quiet and just for them. 

A silence settles between them, but it’s charged, like even in this crowded downtown bar, everyone is holding their breath, waiting with baited anticipation. As the seconds tick by, Cassian begins to wonder if she’ll even answer, if he’s made a mistake, but then her hand is reaching up, smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. 

“I do.”

[loserholland]

𝐀 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader ft Morgan Stark (platonic)

Warning ➺ Slight TFATWS spoiler, some angst, pure fluff, Morgan being a comedian 

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ After the blip and loosing his best friend, you were there to keep Bucky grounded.

A/N ➺ Based off the song “I hear a symphony” by Cody Fry, such an amazing song. I’M ALSO SO SORRY IF I’M A LITTLE RUSTY 

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Five years.

It had been five years before everyone returned, five years since Thanos snapped his fingers and wiped nearly 50% of the content. Five years of darkness, questioning whether or not those who turned to dust would come back. The thought of those who disappeared never coming back scared everyone, the thought of never seeing your mother, father, daughter, son- your friends and siblings again?

(Y/N) was one of the lucky ones to not turn to dust, but watching those around her slowly disintegrate never failed to bring her to tears every night. She was lucky enough to fight along side everyone, disobeying Tony’s order of staying put and “letting the adults handle it” she instead convinced Rhodey to let her follow, claiming if he let her he’d be her favorite uncle.

That’s where she saw him again, after nearly two years since Berlin. She had of course stuck by her father’s side and when he had gone to Sibera she stood with him. That’s when they had learned the winter soldier had killed her father’s parents. (Y/N) never entirely blamed Bucky, he never did it. It was the Winter Solider, not Bucky.

Tony always said she had her mothers heart and if her mom was still around she’d be proud of her, for always trying to see the best in people whether they’re good or bad.

“Wow, you’ve grown kid.”

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

A voice all too familiar spoke slowly she turned on her heels, his hair was still long it grew merely a few inches. He had also grown out his beard, the last time she had saw him it was more over stumble. She chuckled lightly stepping forward but keeping some distance between them, “Kid? I’m twenty-one James, plus we’ve been over this- I hate it when you guys call me kid!”

Bucky let out a small laughter showing off his pearly white teeth, there was always something about Bucky that made (Y/N)’s stomach fill with butterflies. I mean- who wouldn’t? Bucky was a handsome man.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

“How have you been old-man?”

(Y/N) was the only person who had called Bucky by his first name, of course you had seen his files and even read about him smithsonian exhibit. She just felt she didn’t have the right to call him Bucky due to not knowing him long enough.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes” she read to herself, reading the following description of the man.

That’s when you first saw how handsome this he was. And, when you first met him in Berlin it was amazing to see him up close. Well it’s not so amazing when some dumbass breached the centre and turned him back into the winter solider for a minute causing him to well fight everyone in his path.

After your dad’s ass was handed to him, he surely handed your ass to you he had you in a choke hold against the wall, your feet was a few inches above the ground.

“James, please.”

He’s eyes widened every so slightly tightening his metal hand around your throat, you felt yourself slide down against the wall gasping for air watching as T’Challa and him fought one another.

“I’ve been good, I’ve never felt so- calm an at peace in a while.”

(Y/N) smiled, that was good, it was good to see him happy for once and not afraid he’ll hurt someone again. He was brave and strong, from what she had read in the smithsonian exhibit and what she had seen in the past two years.

“Guys lets go, and kid stop leaving my sight your dad will kill me if anything happens!” (Y/N) groaned and stomped her feet to the ground “Uncle Rhodey! Stop calling me kid!” Bucky only chuckled at her, a sense of warmth filled his body- an uncommon warmth.

𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸

(Y/N) knocked on Bucky’s apartment door, “Why aren’t we at the zoo yet?” Morgan questioned looking up at her older sister in confusion- Pepper was out of town dealing with business so she had to bring Morgan along to her.

When everyone came back, she had grown closer to Bucky. They had both lost someone, she had lost her father and he lost his best friend. Ever since her father’s death, she would dream about him often it started to become a regular thing after she started hanging out with Bucky. Last night’s dream, he had told her that if she got with Barnes he would be okay with it and to also apologize for blasting his arm off. Maybe it was just her subconscious playing tricks on her.

She crouched down slightly to be the same height as her sister, “Babe, remember I told you that my friend James would be coming along?” just then the door opened causing (Y/N) to fall back at the sudden movement. Instead of helping her sister up or asking if she was okay, she laughed and said “You fell on your booty.” oh, she was definitely Tony Starks daughter.

Bucky quickly helped her up apologizing for giving her a small fright, she noticed something different about Bucky he had cut his long hair. Just a few days ago he had it up in a man bun, “You cut your hair?” his brows furrowed, he ran his gloved fingers through his freshly cut hair “Does it look bad?” worry laced his voice.

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “No! It looks good!” Morgan looked between the two adults standing in front of her before she let out a dramatic sigh, “Can we go now?” with that Bucky locked grabbed his keys and locked the front door as they proceeded towards the elevator.

The Central Park Zoo was in walkable distance, so (Y/N) left he car parked in the garage of Bucky’s apartment. Morgan stared at Bucky gloved hand she tilted her head slightly before asking, “Why are you wearing gloves? Aren’t your hands sweating?” (Y/N) eyes widened looking at the top of Morgan’s head then to Bucky who was laughing.

“Morgan!”

“It’s a serious question.” she shrugged as she kicked her feet awaiting for an answer, “Well because, this arm-” he lifted his left arm “is made out of vibranium.” Morgan looked up at him before saying, “Cool- now swing!” she grabbed his hand causing (Y/N) to look at Bucky. She knew he was a bit touch sensitive, “Mor-” before she could say her sister’s name again Bucky cut her off “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” he took her small hand into his before pulling his arm back then forward.

𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

Bucky watched as you smiled whenever Morgan would let out a small giggle, he felt the same warmth he did back in Wakanda. The same warmth she could only give him. He was grateful to have her in his life, she gave him the benefit of the doubt seeing the good and accepting the bad. He knew that she knew his history but still befriended him anyways saying, “there’s good in everyone even if you can’t see the good in you, I do.”

“How has therapy been going?” They stood behind the four year old who was admiring the penguins. Bucky shrugged lightly fixing his gaze to his shoes, “‘ts been good.” he mumbled. It had been about two weeks since he started therapy with Dr.Christina Raynor, you knew he had trouble opening up and well at most times never opened up at all. 

Morgan came running back to the two, “I wanna see the red pandas.” she grabbed theirs hands and began to drag them towards her current favorite animal at the moment.

She wondered if he still had nightmares, there were times he’d call her just to talk because he couldn’t go back to sleep. The sound of an old sitcom could be heard in the background anytime he’d call.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

Bucky watched as (Y/N) carried Morgan in her arms pointing at the red pandas, red pandas? How are they even pandas? Bucky thought to himself, watching as (Y/N) made Morgan giggle loudly she must have said some kind of joke. He watched as she turned her head slightly catching her eye, he began to notice this twinkle whenever she was smiling or talking about something she’s passionate about or enjoyed.

"So, what did you think?” the credits of Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone began to roll in.  As far as Bucky knew, the only wizard he had read about before was Gandalf in the hobbit. Who would’ve thought about writing a book about a 11 year old wizard?

“It was surprisingly good.” He watched as her eyes lit up the corners of her lips tugging upwards.  He loved to see her smile, to see the twinkle in her eye just before she spoke on about how much she loved something.

“I knew you would like it! Gosh it’s amazing- I could go on about the wizarding world but I’m sure you would rather not-”

“I have the time.”

(Y/N) had concluded Bucky would belong in Hufflepuff and basically forced him to take the pottermore test in which she was correct, he was in fact a hufflepuff. She had gone on why he’s in hufflepuff- though he didn’t really care about the reasons he just wanted to hear her talk.

“You have a lovely family.”

The comment caused Bucky to turn his head slightly pulling him from the recent memory, an elderly woman who seemed to be in her late sixties gave him a warm smile. “Uh- she’s actually my-” what is she to me?  Before Bucky could answer (Y/N) had walked over with Morgan still in her arms.

“Hey, ready to go?”

Before Bucky could answer the lady spoke again, “I was just telling your husband you have a lovely family.” (Y/N) eyes widened her mouth slightly agape before responding, “We’re actual friends and, she’s my younger sister.” friends.

“Oh, my apologies. Have a great rest of your day.”

(Y/N) gave the lady a warm smile watching as she walked away, “Well, I think you’ve seen enough animals don’t you think?” Morgan tapped her index finger against her chin pinching her brows together, sometimes she was just a mini version of your dad or sometimes Pepper- but mostly Tony.

“Yeah- I’m hungry.” 

Making their way towards the exit the gift shop had caught Morgan’s eye, specifically a red panda plush she shrieked loudly causing (Y/N) to jump with caution thinking something was wrong with her little sister, while Bucky stood there with his eyes widened.

“I need it!”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed, “Morgan- you know mom is gonna be mad at me if I get you yet another red panda plush. Remember, you have like a billion of them.” Morgan pouted slightly crossed her arms across her chest and stomped away.

“Dad would’ve gotten it for me!” (Y/N) frowned at the comment, of course he would’ve- he loved seeing the smile on your face anytime he got you something whether you were five or nineteen. 

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦

“I’ll meet you guys outside- I’m gonna use the restroom.” Bucky spoke, watching as she ran after her little sister. Well- he didn’t actually need to use the restroom- he had gotten the plush Morgan was head over heels for. He waited a couple minutes before finally exiting the zoo spotting (Y/N) holding Morgan in her lap as they sat on a bench not too far from the exit.

He held the plush behind his back, as he drew closer he could hear Morgan sob quietly. He sat down next to (Y/N) leaning his head slightly onto her shoulder, “Hey Morgan.” the five year old pulled back slightly wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose lips still in a pout.

Slowly he pulled the plush that was hidden behind his back into view, watching as Morgan’s eyes widened an a huge smile paint her lips quickly she snatched it from his hand and hugged it turning her body from side to side.

Morgan hopped out of her sister’s lap and onto Bucky’s wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you, thank you!” she chanted catching Bucky off guard as he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Anytime kid.” 

They walked back to Bucky’s apartment in comfortable silence, Morgan squealing every here and there every time she hugged her new plush. Once they had reached his apartment, Bucky offered for the two to stay for pizza which Morgan quickly agreed to. 

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳

(Y/N) and Bucky situated themselves in the kitchen cross from each other- (Y/N) sat on a stool while Bucky stood. Meanwhile Morgan was in the living room distracted with her new plush, “Thank you for getting her the plush- I- I just didn’t know how to react when she said-” Bucky placed his hand over hers squeezing it reassuringly, she squeezed back giving him a warm smile. They stayed like this for a few minutes before (Y/N) cleared her throat causing Bucky to pull his hand away. 

“You never answered my question earlier, about therapy.” She watched as he tensed at the word therapy, truth be told. He was struggling, he was still having nightmares and he was having trouble opening up to his therapist. He gets annoyed whenever she pulls out her notebook and starts to scribble stuff down.

“I made amends with um- Senator Atwood. No one got hurt.” (Y/N) nodded, “That’s good! Any progress with Dr.Raynor?” Bucky sighed lightly, running his fingers through his hair, “Kind of? I mean every time I tell her I haven’t had a nightmare she gets all aggressive and writes in her notebook.” 

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦

She frowned slightly, taking his hands into hers “James, you sometimes talk to me about your nightmares right?” he nodded slightly ushering her to continue, “You have to slowly open up- it’s gonna help James. And If you want, I’ll go with you. I’ll wait in the waiting room- whatever it takes to get you to talk.”

She cared so much about him, it made her chest feel heavy. She would do anything for him.

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

He had spent nearly seventy years as someone else, he was afraid that after he erased his past it would still catch up to him someday. That he would still become the winter solider even after all this therapy and time away.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

But you were there to reassure him that would never happen, that he was a good person and no longer the person he use to be. She was there to reassure him that he was James Buchanan Barnes and not the winter solider.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺

You were the light in his darkness, you were there to guide him and to stay by his side. He thought you’d run away after what he had done to your grandparents but you’re there to remind him that he had no choice that HYDRA had control over him but you knew deep down he tried to fight it.

Bucky tugged his hands back quickly pulling away from the counter and walked around to engulf (Y/N) into a hug, he was afraid that if he were to allow himself to love someone they’d only end up hurt. He didn’t want to loose her, he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Please don’t leave.”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “Why would I leave? I would never leave you Bucky.” he pulled away slightly, did he hear that right? “Did you just call me Bucky?” her eyes widened, “Oh I’m so-” he cupped her cheeks closing the gap between the two placing capturing her lips. Something he had been waiting to do.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

It was exactly like how people described sharing a kiss with someone they’ve longed to be with, fireworks and butterflies the way your skin heats up and your cheeks turn into a tomato red.

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around his wrist pulling back slightly for air a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Hello? Did you guys not here the door? Someone pay the guy!” Morgan carried the huge box of pizza and placed it onto her sisters lap before turning away to the living room. She quickly fetched her wallet wanting to beat Bucky from paying- but he knocked her wallet out of her hands and quickly rushed to the door.

She had given her sister a slice of pizza and ushered her to go back to the living room, “You make it seem as if I never saw people kiss before.” Morgan stuck her tongue out at her sister before returning to the living room.

“So-” Bucky began leaning against the doorway of the kitchen (Y/N) running up to him to wrap her arms around his neck the impact causing the two to fall to the ground with a loud thud. “You know- know a days people usually go on dates before the first kiss.” (Y/N) joked causing Bucky to smile, “Well in that case. (Y/N) would you like to go out tomorrow?” she quickly pecked his lips.

“I’d love to Bucky.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: Others Disapprove Of Their S/O

A/N: Not a warning, but this was pretty angsty.

Kim Hongjoong:

He knew it was a bad idea to join the others at this party. You were both in the same line of work, you were bound to run into each other sooner or later. Hongjoong tried his best to make sure it was later and not soon. That's why he kept himself locked in his studio or in the practice room. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to think about you, he refused to allow his mind to wander back to your relationship. If he kept his mind somewhere else, kept it occupied into another task, maybe memories of you wouldn't creep up on him, and then his heart wouldn't hurt.

His members dragged him out eventually though, wanting him to have some fun after being cooped up for so long.

"Why should they care anyways? They're partly responsible for what happened."

He thought to himself as he sat in a corner, the liquor in his cup still untouched. He wasn't just resented at them for being so negative about his relationship with you. He was also angry at you for deciding to end it, for giving up, for not fighting for the love he believed was stronger than anything else.

His gaze wondered around the room, the music that was blasting full volume suddenly muted when he caught sight of you. You were just as shocked to see him. All the feelings he tried to lock away hit him immediately. There you were, still so beautiful to him, still holding on to his heart and taking his breath away like the first time you met.....

But he couldn't let you know that. When you made way to reach out to him, he stood up and walked away, refusing to look at you anymore. He was still hurt and angry at you. Maybe one day he'll forgive you.....

"But I can't do it right now...."

Park Seonghwa:

Seonghwa tried so hard to protect you from the harsh words that were sometimes said about you, from the criticism that was unnecessarily and so wrongly thrown at you. But you weren't stupid.

You knew what his parents thought of you, you could feel their disapproval of you from miles away. You tried to ignore it at first, but after some time you couldn't. Their words were always in the back of your mind. And you thought maybe it would be better for Seonghwa if you just left him.

"No."

He didn't even let you finish your sentence, he immediately responded.

"Seonghwa please don't make this difficult." You begged him.

"It's not difficult at all Y/N! I love you, you love me! Why should it matter what others think?!" He didn't want to raise his voice at you, but he was so emotional right now.

"Seonghwa......they're your parents...." You sobbed, unable to say anything anymore.

Seonghwa began crying as well. His arms held you close to him, not wanting and not willing to let you go. Not yet.

"Y/N listen to me. I know it's selfish to ask you to stay when you're hurting so much, but I promise you that I love you. I love you and I won't let anyone or anything come between us. But please.......stay with me...."

He was begging you at this point and deep down, you knew you had no strength to say no.

Jeong Yunho:

You hated the stares his friends would give you, hated the way they immediately judged you before even getting to know you. But most of all, you hated the way Yunho pretended like it wasn't real. You knew it wasn't his fault, he always tried to keep a positive vibe for you two. But you just couldn't anymore.

"Yunho stop! Just stop and face reality! Your friends hate me!" You finally snapped one time.

Yunho just sat there, scared. You've never raised your voice at him before.

"N-no they don't-"

"Yes they do!" You cut him off.

"Maybe they just need time-"

"Yunho, just stop......let's just stop all this."

Those were the last words you said to him. And for almost a month, Yunho hardly went out or even got out of bed. He was broken, no longer the happy puppy he was before. He longed for you.

That's when his friends realized how wrong they were and how they needed to fix things as quickly as possible. And thus a long phone call ensued, apologies were given and a fast drive to the dorm was scheduled.

Yunho was oblivious to all this. He was currently curled up in a ball, hidden in his blankets. He didn't even bother paying attention to the opening of his door.

"Guys, just leave me alone." He said, but was not expecting to hear the voice he had been wanting to hear for a while.

"Yunho....."

Uncovering himself from the blankets, he looked up, wondering if it was a dream, if his mind was only seeing things, or you really were standing there in front of him.

"Y/N...."

Kang Yeosang:

Yeosang was frustrated. It irked him to no end that you cared so much about everyone's opinions. Yes it made him angry that people couldn't be happy about you two, but he never gave a damn about people's opinions and he had hoped you wouldn't either.

"Why should we care about what others say about us? It's not wrong." He felt like he was repeating himself over and over again.

"Because sooner or later you are going to care when they decide to leave you." You tried reasoning with him.

"Bullshit. I'm not going to care, wanna know why? I trust them enough to know they won't leave me, just like I trust you."

You kept quiet and your silence scared him.

"Because....you wouldn't leave me either.... right?" He seemed to ask that question more as a reassurance to himself than to you.

You looked down.

"Yeosang.....I'm sorry." Was all you could say.

"Oh my God!"

Yeosang ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, tears threatening to spill out, but he refused to let you see him cry. He was stronger than this. His fists slammed the table that he was reclining over, and he stayed quiet, trying to compose himself. You walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeosang-"

"No! You know what?! Just leave if you're going to! Might as well get it over with! You obviously don't care about me enough to stay despite what others think!"

He cut you off and pushed your hand away, not even sparing you one last glance. You walked over to the front door, looked back at the man you love one last time before whispering:

"Goodbye Yeosang. I love you."

He didn't respond, he just heard the door shut behind you. And immediately, he regretted everything, but he knew there was nothing he could do....

"It's over...."

Choi San:

The company was giving you a really hard time. They really didn't want your relationship with San to continue. You tried to be strong at first, but they hit you with the one thing that easily changed your mind.

"What if his career gets ruined because of you?"

That hit you hard. You knew how passionate San was about his job. He loved it. And you couldn't.....you didn't want to ruin something he worked so hard for. You loved him so much and were willing to step away from his life if it meant sparing him that situation.

"You're what?" San couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I'm breaking up with you." You repeated yourself, trying hard not to cry in front of him.

San stayed silent, so many questions running through his head. 'What went wrong? Why all of a sudden? Was it something he did?'

"Please tell me you're kidding....I mean you were fine and happy recently....I don't understand." At this point, he was just mumbling whatever came to his head.

"Don't try to understand. Just make things easier for yourself and leave."

You didn't mean to sound cold or indifferent to him. But you knew that if you showed him you cared, or that you were hurting, he'd never let you go and you wouldn't be able to hold on to your resolution.

"...... Is there someone else?"

You were shaken up by his assumption. You wanted to scream 'Of course not! I've only loved you and only you!', but you didn't, you just stayed silent and straight faced. Your silence was worse for San.

"Fine."

He scoffed and proceeded to make his way out the door, out of your life, taking with him your heart while his was shattered to a million pieces.

Song Mingi:

Mingi just blinked and stayed standing there silently, wondering if he heard you right or not.

"Haha. That was a really funny joke baby." He giggled awkwardly, hoping you really were kidding.

"Mingi..... I'm serious."

He swallowed harshly, looking into your eyes and seeing how serious you were.

"Please tell me this is some sort of prank, a cruel prank. Please..... anything but that it's the truth..."

You could tell he was losing his mind, his voice was getting higher and higher.

"Mingi.....please calm-"

"Don't tell me to calm down Y/N! How can I be calm when you're trying to break up with me?! You're my whole world! I love you! Please don't do this to me!"

By this point he was on his knees, his arms wrapped around your waist, sobbing face hidden in your abdomen. He was holding on to you like his life depended on it. He didn't want to let you go, he couldn't. If he did, you'd disappear from his life forever.

Seeing him suffering so much made you realize you couldn't follow through. You loved him, and he loved you. You could no longer put up any resistance.

"Mingi...... I'm sorry..." You whispered as your hands gently stroked his head.

"Please don't say that unless you take what you said back." He was shaking at this point.

Bending down, you pulled him into a tight hug.

"I love you Song Mingi. And I'll never leave you."

Jung Wooyoung:

Wooyoung knew what other people thought of you. He usually tried to ignore it, figuring they'd stop eventually. But he reached his limit when they suggested he broke up with you.

"I'm sorry what?" Wooyoung's eyes were practically daring them to repeat what they said.

"I just think it'd be better if you two broke it off. Think about what your fans would think if word got out." They tried to explain themselves.

Wooyoung chuckled sarcastically.

"My fans are not some judgmental assholes like you. They'll understand and support me. And you know what? They'll love Y/N just as much as I do. And I suggest you shut that mouth of yours before I shut it for you. Never speak of my significant other again."

It escalated even more and you ended up finding out when Wooyoung came over to your place. He tried to hide it, but right away you noticed his busted lip and bruised temple.

"Jung Wooyoung. What kind of trouble did you manage to get yourself into this time?" You were ready to nag at him as you started looking through your first aid kit.

"Well by the time I'm finished telling you what happened, you won't be able to deny that I love you."

And you really couldn't. You really felt lucky to know Wooyoung had thick skin like you and you both loved each other too much to pay attention to what other people said. Although his thick skin got him into trouble constantly, you wouldn't have him any other way.

Choi Jongho:

Jongho and you tried to ignore the criticisms that others threw at you. You could take what they said about you, but you couldn't stand it when they dragged Jongho into it. And he was the same, he hated all the unnecessary backlash that was thrown at you. You both tried everything to make them change their minds, try to make them understand you two, but it proved to be impossible.

"Should we just break up?" You questioned him.

It wasn't anything new, you've heard others suggest it anyway.

"I don't want to.....but I don't want you getting hurt because of me." Jongho felt selfish if he asked you to stay. He didn't want you to suffer anymore.

"And I don't want you hurting, nor do I want your career to suffer damage." You confessed.

And so it was decided: you opted for breaking things off for the meantime. But you weren't completely giving up. You both promised that in the future you'd be back together, hopefully by then everyone would mature and be more accepting.

"I'll always love you. And I'll wait for you. Just please..... wait for me as well." Jongho cupped your cheeks and kissed you fervently, knowing it'd be a while until he'd be able to do it again

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners. And excuse me while I go dry my tears and blow out my nose

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

                                          time, wondrous time

                                           elain & azriel & lucien  //   ao3

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Bright sunlight wakes Elain up, relentlessly tapping on her closed eyelids until she groans softly; making her clammy skin sizzle. She cannot escape from it, not sandwiched naked between two bodies the way she is. Flushed all-over, not an inch of her untouched; her cheek pressed to one male’s back, her legs tangled up with another’s. Some minuscule human part of her left weeping in shame, quietly, somewhere too deep inside her to bother with it.

Instead of hiding underneath thin sheets, she spits out a strand of hair stuck to her lower lip and begins grounding herself. It’s a slow, meticulous process, boring and alike to fishing out pebbles of a certain shade from a riverbed full of all kinds of rocks – but then, Elain’s well versed in it for now. Last night’s memories are a bit brighter, a bit more solid than all of the other images blooming in her head. There is laughter and auburn wine, the taste of it on her tongue, pomegranate juice dripping down her neck until it was licked off. Sand-colored marble kissing the bare soles of her feet when she was running through the corridors. Sheer silk swishing around her calves.  Sweet ache coiling deep in her belly, between her slick thighs, the release hard enough to leave her feeling breathless, almost empty. There’s snow falling in the Steppes,  chubby cheeks and round, silver-blue eyes of her mother-

Which don’t belong to yesterday, nor to any of the yesterdays before. Elain indulges herself though; let’s happiness and adoration fill her to the brim when she stays with this image for a bit longer. Those tiny fingers locked around a lock of her sister’s hair, Nesta’s cooing, a lullaby falling from her lips soft like a caress…  It’s too nice, too delicious to not melt into this vision.  

But then - a rough hand slides up her thigh, fingers tracing the arch of her hipbone. Quiet laughter echoes when she trembles in response.

The future bursts like a soap bubble in the air and Elain falls painfully into here and now. She bares her throat to rest the back of her head on Azriel’s chest, smiling brightly with her eyes still firmly closed when he presses a kiss underneath her jaw.

‘’Good morning, Elain.’’ He whispers.

Before she can reply, a familiar warmth spills deep inside her belly – happiness and annoyance and pleasure mixed up in equal measure – and Lucien huffs, his voice muffled by the pillow:

‘’Why do you always have to wake up so early?’’

It’s the sun. – Elain wants to say, want to sing-song into his ear until he fully awakens.- It’s the sun and you are the one responsible for it.

But she’s too content, too comfy – so he blindly moves her hand from Lucien’s waist to his back, traces loopy I love you-s on the bare skin with her fingertips as the bond inside her purrs like a cat in response. She can feel the silky strands of his hair brushing her knuckles and, for the thousandth time, she vows she’ll never let him cut them.

‘’Good morning.’’ She lets out an exhale. ‘’The sun’s telling you to rise and shine, my lord.’’

Azriel’s near-soundless laugh makes the bed shake a bit. It’s her favorite sound in the world – as beautiful as her future nephew’s shrieks of joy, as beautiful as Nesta’s singing voice.

As beautiful as Lucien’s fond, irritated groan.

‘’You two will pay me back for it, you know.’’

Oh, she knows.

Lips and hands and cocks and wings and starlight underneath her eyelids; and moans and names and curses; in the daylight, in the moonlight; on the soft grass in her personal garden, bees buzzing around them as they make love, her knees scraped raw, teeth-marks on her neck, finger-shaped bruises on her thighs.

Before now – before them, she didn’t know it’s even possible to feel such ecstasy, that sex can be like this. She doesn’t know how she was managing to live without it, how she did not crave this connection as one craves air every second, every heartbeat of her life.

‘’Is that a threat or promise, oh mighty High Lord?’’ Azriel snickers and Elain hides her face in Lucien’s hair to suppress her giggle. ‘’Be careful not to bite more than you can chew.’’

‘’I think we all know I can chew plenty.’’ Lucien shoots back, unflinchingly. Just enough bite in his tone that she squeezes her thighs together, that she feels Azriel’s hand climbing up the ladder of her ribs to brush her breast.

‘’Shush, both of you.’’ She whispers. ‘’It’s too early for that.’’

She can almost feel Lucien’s grin on her own lips.

‘’It’s never too  early for that.’’

Like a cat waking up from a nap on a sunny afternoon, Elain slowly stretches her body- brushing, caressing, electing hisses and groans left and right in process, her bones and muscles re-forming from their half-molten state when she yawns.

And then she opens her eyes.

Lucien has turned to lay flat on his back, smiling at her in the light of the morning. There are pillow creases pressed on his cheek and she almost manages to reach out and touch them before Azriel throws his arms across her torso and beats her to it.

Darling, terrible Azriel, all the impossible contradictions of him. All brutality and goodness, quiet agony, dark humor.  How delicately his hand caresses  Lucien’s cheek.  How delicately he touches her, every time, until she tells him not to – as if she was something holy and precious, and worth living for.

Life’s – life’s just this, being tangled up, tied into a knot with her mate and her beloved, her glorious, gorgeous, grand lovers keeping her tethered, keeping her safe. Not for the first time, Elain feels a quiet glee at this thought – oh, let her sisters’ keep their mates and their great love stories full of heartbreak and pain, and impossible choices. Elain refused to go down this road. Elain refused impossible choices.

Elain, for the first time in her life, took a stand for something, refused to let the tide of fate to carry her from one place to another as if she was a petal on the wind.

And Elain is adored.

And Elain adores in return.

She wants to melt in-between them, slither underneath their ribs, bind them together for all eternity. Time is a river and she has long ago stopped drowning – now she’s swimming like a fish, no longer gasping for air, no longer cold and lost. The Cauldron’s power hums in her, this horrifyingly ancient beast Nesta has conquered and Elain has tamed: you’ll go first, you’ll go first into this ageless dark, sweet doe.

And how exactly does it matter?

Lucien turns his face slightly to press his lips to the inside of Azriel’s hand. His own hand grips her waist to press her closer, closer; the three of them, hips pressing together, legs entangling, until their heartbeats sound like one perfect harmony in her ears.

How does it matter, when they will have each other even when I’m gone?

Her human life, brief and long evaporated like a puff of an exhale on a frost morning.

The centuries of love she got in exchange.

Feyre,  her little sister always so nosy beyond measure, burning in curiosity when she asks, time and time again, how does it even work, as if the three of them sat down around the business table the way Nesta sits with foreign traders to discuss terms and conditions; Mor biting the inside of her cheek not to laugh whenever Elain just shrugs in response. It’s not strange for her, loving them both, sharing and being shared. She has always had too much love inside her anyway, too much to know how to use it properly – wasting it on undeserving human men and pretty, petty things, this love without a purpose that she has now. Enough love for both of the best men she has ever met, both of them always so hungry for love, starved for it.

Elain has shed her humanity and all her human inhibitions the way silk dress slides to the marble floor, exposing skin and flesh begging to be touched – kept them on her and then got rid of them all at once, instantaneously.

Future rushes through her mind like a waterfall, all the good things: roses blooming, stars falling, Feyre’s rounded belly and her son’s first word, Lucien’s hungry gaze, Cassian’s deep laughter and Nesta’s silver one, rows and endless rows of books in the thousand libraries all toppled over, Azriel sleeping peacefully by her side-

Elain rests her head on Lucien’s shoulder and tangles her fingers in Azriel’s hair when he hides his face in the crook of her neck. The Day Court keeps them warm and safe when they drift back into dreams.

Oh, how truly blessed she is.  

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Into the Woods || Morgan and Kaden

TIMING: Last Sunday LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: While the banshees scream, Morgan and Kaden try to distract themselves. 

The woods were strangely eerie. Odd, he was used to them being comforting. They used to be; they used to be his home away from home. But more and more that feeling was being picked away. Maybe it was because Kaden was subconsciously listening for the sounds of screams in the distance. Maybe it was because the last time he was truly out here on a hunt was with Alain. His stomach dropped what felt like down to his toes. He had his knives on him as always, but part of him wished he didn’t. Even though he knew that would be stupid. It surely didn’t help that his current company was also somber. Oddly so. Of the two of them Morgan was the more talkative of the two normally. And yet, here he was, the one trying to make bullshit conversation on their attempt to distract themselves. “So. We’re pretending that nothing terrible is happening in the woods, what, a few miles away? At most?” Kaden sighed, kicking the dirt under his shoe across the path. “You okay?” he asked, turning to her. Well that was stupid. Neither of them were o-fucking-kay. “I mean you know. Given the whole, uh, everything.” He had a feeling Sundays felt heavier for Morgan than other days of the week. They didn’t make much difference to him one way or another. Every day was a day he didn’t see Regan and worried about what sort of training she was up to. Still, having the solidarity was nice. Or it would be. In theory.

“I took us in the opposite direction,” Morgan said flatly. She slashed her pruning knife through a bundle of purple thistle waving in the underbrush. Slashed again. “We aren’t going to run into anything we shouldn’t. Or, well, we aren’t going to run into the pain parade.” Morgan winced as she reached for her string to tie it off with the rest she’d gathered and set in her basket. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be… I like it, when we hang out like this, even when we feel awful. I’m just...having a hard time.” To put it mildly. Her last visit with Lydia still shook her to her core. She couldn’t tell anymore what was making her energy dip, being reminded of how much she’d lost because of Nell and Constance, the memories her body stored of floods and car accidents, and death, or knowing what Deirdre was being forced to do right now on account of Regan’s dad having been more in love with the denial game than she was. It was the worst game of roulette, where even the winning slot didn’t get you anything besides a need for therapy. “The universe is coming for me on all sides,and I don’t have enough of me to hold onto it all. I don’t even know how I’m going to get through the rest of today.” She stood up, dusted herself off, and shot Kaden a watery smile. “But uh, yeah, though, I’m okay,” she sing-songed. “How about you?”

Kaden wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. Some sick part of him wanted to wander upon it and see what was going on. See how truly terrible it was. He did know that in reality, it wasn’t what he wanted. Hell now that he had the freedom to ask what was going on with the training, really ask, he was too afraid to. Not that he knew where to start. So he simply hadn’t. For now, he waited for whatever Regan had to offer while knowing full well she wasn’t going to offer shit. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not like I’m great company either.” He had a feeling half the walk he was stuck in his own mind. Too many things were weighing on him. He wondered when he’d break, crumble under the burdens he was bearing for everyone else. Regan, Nadia, Alain, Blanche, Nell, Adam, Bea, hell even Morgan herself; he’d leanded his help to all of them. And he’d keep doing so without hesitation. But he was wondering when he was hurting more than helping, saying he could do things when it was possible he had nothing to offer. “I really understand. Wish I didn’t but I do.” Her chipper attempt at a reply made him roll his eyes. “Yeah, sure, alright. Me, too. I’m completely fucking fine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets before he found a bigger rock and kicked it away. Only slightly more satisfying than the last. Still a hollow victory, though. “I mean I’m the reason my friend is an amputee now and I haven’t seen my girlfriend in… has it been weeks now? But we’re fine.”

Morgan gave Kaden an apologetic look and squeezed the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m sorry. I’m just uh…” Not sure how to balance the honesty you can handle with the honesty that will get me murdered before I have a chance to call Deirdre and tell her I’m sorry. “We’re still kinda new at this whole honesty hour thing, I guess,” she said instead. “You wanna tell me more about your friend? Or ask one of those spooky questions you’re pretending not to think about? ‘Cause I’m all ears, no matter what.” She led them down to a patch of clover and settled down to cut as many as she could, gesturing for him to sit with her a while as she did.

“I guess,” Kaden said with a shrug. “I don’t know, you’ve forced me to share all my feelings and shit all the time. I think the entire time I’ve known you.” He still wasn’t sure why he answered her questions and indulged her in the first place. By now he knew it wasn’t worth fighting her on it and just letting it happen. Which is why he sighed and took a seat next to her. “I don’t know. I feel like you’re not going to like any of it.” She wasn’t exactly shy about telling him how much she hated the whole hunter shit. He found a rock nearby to lean against, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he did. “I don’t even know what to ask about what’s happening anymore. Now that I can know. Where the fuck do I even start? After all of you tell me how much it’s destroying everyone in-fucking-volved.” He thought about picking up a stick or rock nearby, but he didn’t want to uncross his arms, let his guard down. Best to stick with the other thing. “The other part though, uh, we fought a bugbear. Me and the other hunter. Apparently the bugbear was a criminal or a murder or some shit, I don’t know.” He didn’t look at her while he spoke, simply watched the branches across the way, watching as they moved with the breeze. “But I had a clear shot. And I hesitated. The other hunter jumped in to save my ass. And he lost his leg. And then I killed the fucking bugbear anyway.”

“I guess I should’ve clarified,” Morgan smirked. “I’m new at not having to fight you tooth and claw for honesty. Or for having things I don’t know how to talk about either.” She smiled sadly and started plucking stems. She listened to Kaden’s frustration, nodding along and watching the wrinkles in his face as he searched for the words for this. “It doesn’t sound to me like you did anything wrong on your hunt,” she said at last. “People hesitate. They doubt. That makes you human. And, you know, some people would argue that having qualms with killing someone, even an evil, bear-shaped someone, is a good thing. I’m sorry about your friend’s leg. But I imagine they were ready to do anything for you, in that moment. He doesn’t actually blame you, does he?”

“You have feelings you don’t know how to talk about? That’s new and different.” Kaden huffed out a laugh but it didn’t make the mood feel any lighter. He felt his fingers dig into his palm as he made his hand into a fist. She may not have had to fight him tooth and claw but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the whole thing. “I’m not supposed to hesitate,” he said before even absorbing the rest. “I can’t be out in the field if I’m going to hesitate or freeze up. It’s dangerous.” He didn’t have to explain that much, he hoped. He played with the pressure of his fist, clenching it tighter and then looser as he paused to try and take in the rest of what she said. “I don’t know if he blames me. I don’t know. I know I blame me.” He felt his throat getting tighter already. Supposed he should have anticipated that would happen at some point. “I don’t know. I think some of you are getting in my head. All I could see was Blanche’s old roommate.” He gave a shrug. “I tried to tell Regan why I hesitated and I-- I don’t know. I don’t think I can explain it.” At least not in a way he’d feel good about it. Which he didn’t know what to make of, either.

“Yeah, even insufferable zombies have their moments,” Morgan said. “And I figured you blame you, but that doesn’t mean you have to. You saw a person there, because they are a person. Even someone you have to kill because they’re out of control and malicious and there’s no other way.” She paused in her work to look at him fully, carefully. “What did Regan say? You could try to explain now. I know it’s...on a practical level, it’s risky, hesitating, but I don’t think it says anything bad about you, Kaden. I think you were just asked to do something incredibly difficult, and you acted the way people do. I know that’s not...super comforting. But, I’m trying to say you’re still a good person, that’s all.”

“I don’t think that makes it better,” Kaden said, voice tight. If that bugbear was a person, then that changed…. Well, it changed a lot. Too much. Enough that he didn’t want to touch or acknowledge. He could feel the crank holding back the flood gates was loosening. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let it down, accept what it could mean for his life. Not now. Maybe not ever. “Regan just knows I killed a monster. Or, well, a dangerous unusual animal, as she calls it.” He shifted in his seat a bit. “And I mean, that’s true. It is. I mean he was. It was. I don’t--” He hated how much this complicated things. How far from simple hunting had gotten. He let out a deep exhale, trying to release some of the tension building in his chest. “She doesn’t know that bugbears or werewolves transform into, you know, more or less human. When-- And I don’t know how to tell her.” That wasn’t completely true. It would be as simple as trying. “I mean she wouldn’t believe me.” And if she did… He had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. But that didn’t mean it was wrong. It didn’t. Maybe it did. But if it was wrong then what was he supposed to do about it now? If he left that bugbear alive, he’d be dead, Alain would be dead, and countless future people would be dead. Somehow, something still felt wrong. “I don’t feel like a good person. And I feel like an even worse hunter.” And he wasn’t entirely sure what he had to offer if he wasn’t a good hunter. What else was there that he was qualified to do? His whole life had been dedicated to hunting. Without it, what was left?

Morgan knew that Kaden struggled with accepting the personhood of the people he hunted, but she didn’t understand why he wasn’t able to shoulder that gravity the way Deirdre did. And she couldn’t ask or draw the comparison, of course. Even if she wasn't bound to secrecy, telling him would sign Deirdre’s death over to him, and hers too. She couldn’t tell him that seeing people as objects, as prey, aligned him with Lydia and some of the more stomach-turning people she’d met in town. But Kaden wouldn’t appreciate that distinction either, and she didn’t dare endanger Lydia by speaking her name around a hunter. Turning all of these things over in her mind, Morgan bowed her head, shivering in spite of not being able to feel the cold. “You’re a good person, Kaden,” she said firmly. “And it speaks better of you, not worse, to recognize the humanity of the supernaturals you go after. Maybe Regan can’t make that distinction, but I can. Losing a sense of other people’s humanity scrapes away some of yours too, I think.” She sat thinking, no longer even moving her hands, but fixed on the growing dark around them. “Why isn’t being a good hunter something you can define for yourself?”

Kaden dug his fingernails into his palm, a familiar tick as of late. Holding in the emotions and holding back the flood gates, one small crescent shape at a time. He met her eyes when she reaffirmed what she said, hoping it might sink in. But it didn’t. It didn’t seep in. Because he knew he was on a ledge. If he teetered to either side, it would mean pain. He was doomed either way. If he rejected that the supernatural were people, it meant his girlfriend and his friends didn’t deserve to live. If he believed that they were…. He gripped his fists tighter and bit the inside of this lip. “It’s not that Regan can’t make the distinction, Morgan,” he said, voice tight and barely there. “It’s that I’m afraid she will. And if I--” He could feel himself shaking slightly but he forced himself to hold it in, hold steady the gates. “If I acknowledge that-- If we say that’s mu-- I mean that would mean that I’m--” He couldn’t even say it out loud. “I can’t--” He shook his head and braced his hands against the ground, forcing himself still and steady. “They have to be monsters. The things I’ve killed? They have to be that or I don’t know how to live with myself. I don’t know what would make me a good person if I was… that.” His fingers gripped the grass beneath them. This was supposed to be something to make him feel better, right? “I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t be that.” He breathed in and out slowly, following the dumb breathing techniques he learned from Regan. “Being a hunter it’s-- I mean it’s what I was raised to do it’s all I-- I just, I need to keep people safe. I have to. You don’t-- I have to. And if I’m not doing that, what good am I? What kind of a person am--” Breathe. He had to breathe. Feel the ground under his hand and breathe.

Morgan set her foraging tools aside and crawled over to Kaden, close enough that she could reach out with her small hand and cup his cheek. “You have a kind heart, Kaden. And you wouldn’t intentionally do harm or spread hurt. You said it yourself. That counts for something, you know? And you are more than your duty. You’re a whole person, with so much more to offer the world than the ability to kill and destroy. Sometimes that’s exactly what we need. But it’s not always, and you shouldn’t treat yourself as a thing that’s broken when it doesn’t act with perfect coldness. You’re a person, and I think you owe it to yourself and the people you go after to see them as they are. It isn’t going to make you any less kind, any less worth caring about.”

The emotions Kaden was trying to hold in came spilling over when she came over to him. A sob choked out and he caught it, holding it back. It sounded nice. It sounded great and hopeful and wonderful. As nice an idea as that stupid charging rock built with love. He sure felt like an idiot for falling for that, for believing in it when he learned the truth. And he felt even stupider now than he did then. His lip wrabbled and he wanted to tell her to stop and scream at her that she was wrong. About something. He didn’t know what it was. But she had to be wrong about something. He was wrong about something, too. He wanted to push her away and run as much as he wanted to curl up and crumble. Instead he pulled himself in, hands still clinging tight to the dirt beneath them, his core and arms shaking slightly as he resisted the emotions that were overwhelming him. He attempted a nod, shaking his head, anything, but he felt like any conscious movement would crush him, all the weight of years just on the other side. “What does it mean?” he tried, eyes filling with tears a little more each word. “If I-- What does it mean for all the ones before?” He shut his eyes tight, pushed the feelings back down, bottled away somewhere, tried to. Monsters. They were just monsters. Someone had to be a monster.

Even in her anguished stupor, Morgan’s heart broke for Kaden. She moved closer, taking his face in both hands now. She could almost see the little boy he’d once been, scared and impressionable and wanting so badly to be good. Why was it that parents were so eager to twist their children’s desire to be good for them? Why were so many cruelties hidden away as ‘lessons’? Morgan didn’t know, but she hated it all, the whole complicated mess of it. But there was something she felt sure about, and she spoke it with gentle clarity. “It makes you someone who has had to make some very difficult decisions with reasons and intentions he wasn’t able to fully understand. And maybe some of the choices are regretful ones, some really bad mistakes, but not all of them. And it doesn’t make you bad or awful. Okay? What’s important is what you do now that you understand.”

Kaden couldn’t escape her gaze now, there was no way to look away and not let the words reach him, no way to pretend that she was saying something untrue or anything she didn’t mean. Part of him didn’t want her to forgive him or tell him it might be okay. But she did. Why was she being so nice to him? What the fuck did he do to earn anyone’s trust or anything is this town? Why did he care? It was so much easier when he just simply didn’t care. When the world was black and white and he wasn’t here in a forest with cold hands cupping his face, cold hands that felt more comforting and had more warmth than he could remember feeling in too long now. He could either melt or explode, that was all he could do because he couldn’t hold back everything anymore. He couldn’t carry the weight. A small nod was all he could give her before the emotions forced their way out, the tears broke past his lids no matter how hard he shut them, the sobs escaped his lips and he couldn’t bite it back. He wanted to collapse into the ground and stay there. He still couldn’t sort through this, couldn’t tell if he believed her fully or not, but he also couldn’t stop from feeling the tidal wave of emotions trying to wash him away.

Morgan pulled on Kaden until he sank into her arms. “It’s okay,” she said, squeezing him tight. “You’ll be okay, Kaden. What matters is right now, okay? You’re still a kind person, and a good friend.” She tried to get a better grip around his shoulders, to bundle him better against her body. “You weren’t taught to know these things, because it’s easier if you don’t. But you know now, and you’ll be okay…” she whispered.

Kaden didn’t know how long he let himself fall apart and how long he let her hold him. It felt like too long and not enough but he felt like he was drowning in all of it. Everything was just crushing him and pulling him under. The incident with Alain, his past, everything with Regan, his mother, Celeste, Ariana. He felt everything though, every nerve, raw and painful. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, over and over. When he finally felt empty he sniffed and tried to collect himself, recovering from the mess he’d become. “Fuck. I’m sorry. We came here to be less fucking sad.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry to me for,” Morgan assured him, her voice faint and even as she comforted him. “You don’t have to be sorry. Don’t be. It’s okay.” She said it again for every apology he made, knowing that there would be another, because shame was terrible and predictable that way. When he started making more words than just that, she gave a breathless laugh and mussed his hair. “Sometimes things are just too sad, and the best you can hope for is being sad together with someone.” She sniffled and wiped the corners of her eyes, which had started to tear up. “And I think we’ve got that one down easy. Don’t feel bad for having a feeling.”

“Hey, not the hair,” Kaden said, batting her hand away gently, a small smile peeking through on his face. He took a moment to try and push some of his hair back where it belonged, probably pretty pointless by then. When his hands were free, he reached out to grip her shoulder a moment, just give them a squeeze and be done, but instead he paused and pulled her into another hug. He still wasn’t sure how to feel, he still wasn’t sure what it meant or if he knew the way forward. He wasn’t even sure if her words actually held comfort anymore or just offered him with more questions. What he did know was he had support, someone else who, maybe stupidly, believed in him. “Thanks,” he said as he let go of the hug. It was nice, not feeling alone, feeling like someone would try to catch him when he fell.

The thing was Kaden had that. He had that with Regan. Maybe not right that second but he did, and he knew that she would even if her world was falling apart. She’d proved that, she’d tired. And it struck him that was who he should be having this conversation with and the pit of weight dropped down onto him again. “I miss her,” he said softly, wiping away some of the tears that had pooled on his face before with his palm. “I saw her pretty much every day. I didn’t realize it. Until she was--” Gone. It had been a while. The last he’d seen her he was on the curb two meters away from her as they sat there and watched the sunrise. He talked to her online but it wasn’t the same. This was stupid. She wasn’t dead, she hadn’t even dumped him. Being away from her was hard but it was far from the worst of this. He let out a sigh as his mind wandered to why they were even there and what they had intended to avoid in the first place. Here he was drowning in emotions and somewhere else in the same woods, Regan was trying to cut hers away. “Right. Definitely a master of being sad together. Funny, I never thought I’d say this but at least we get to be sad.” His voice was hollower than he intended, but it was fitting given the subject.

A scab peeled off Morgan’s heart as she took in Kaden’s smile. There was that kid again, not in the juvenile, black-and-white judgemental asshat sort of way she’d hated when they first met, but in the way that Deirdre sometimes looked different, more herself, when she was watching the spiders feast or running with her through the cemeteries and stopping to admire a grave. Something pure and essential that went beyond the bulshit shoved down her throat. Something wonderful. It was like that, with Kaden’s smile. “It’s okay, Kaden,” she said.

The relief was short lived as he started talking about Regan, and what he was losing. Morgan’s gaze fell back to her butchered patch of clover, feeling guilty for the way she’d ‘helped’ the baby banshee move out once again. What did it mean that she’d barely been able to smile, or freak out at any of the stuff she’d done. Even the low-grade stuff. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That it’s like this. I think...I really do want it to be over soon. For her.” For all of them. If she could just get that stretch of time from Sunday to Tuesday and Wednesday back, when she could see Deirdre smile again, all the way up to her soft, autumn-brown eyes. Picking up the clover she’d picked, Morgan flashed Kaden a smile of her own. “Here’s to being sad.”

“Training like this. It…” Kaden sighed, truly hating the fact that he was giving Deirdre some credit, that was admitting to any similarities, even after their time in that stupid circle. “It took me years. It took Deirdre years. And I know we were kids but..” He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bring us down again.” At least one of them was an optimist. If he was meant to hope and hold on and try desperately to be a lifevest when he was fairly certain he was drowning himself, he needed some help. And it likely meant any shred of hope he had was going to be saved for Regan. He rubbed his face again, trying to reset, and pushed his hair back. “Here’s to being sad. Remind me to bring some liquor out here next time.” Right. Putain. “At least for me. Sorry.”

“I didn’t realize you were aware of those common details between you. You wanna elaborate?” Morgan said. She couldn’t figure out who would have told. It definitely wasn’t her, as much as she burned to say it sometimes when they were being especially similar and obtuse, she could never bring herself to share something that would make Deirdre so vulnerable to some she knew she hated. Morgan had assumed Regan wasn’t up to mining Deirdre’s backstory either, or if it came up, that it wasn’t something she would see fit to share. Regan could be fastidiously thoughtful, even when she was being frosty, provided the thoughtfulness was turned into a rule. “And you’re okay, really.” Morgan dusted herself off and scanned their surroundings for hemlock. It had an unfortunate resemblance to Queen Anne’s Lace, which was frustratingly common around these parts. “Regan is stubbornly devoted. As long as we don’t fuck this up, maybe it’ll be okay. And maybe, you know, whenever ‘after’ happens, that’s how things turn out better for her. And she already loves you, I think that gives you a leg up, in the man v. banshee game. And don’t worry about me. My next dose of the good brain drugs is coming in a few days, and I’m just...not very up in general right now. You’re good, okay?”

“Hmm? Oh. Right.” Kaden almost thought that Deirdre might have shared the details of their time in the witch’s circle. Guess not. “We, uh, we got stuck in a magic circle. It was like some bullshit therapy session. I don’t know. It was stupid.” He instantly regretted telling any of this to Morgan. He could feel the laughter and questions about to rain on him. He sighed and figured he should stand up. Take a step or two again. Move on and continue forward from the discussion they just had. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but if she had more herbs to find, guess he’d have to. “I hope you’re right. About all of it. The after and the leg up. I don’t know.” He rubbed his arm and figured he should probably brush off some of the dirt and leaves from his pants. He kept wondering if all of it was enough. If he was enough. If there wasn’t that part of him that she’d find and decide she didn’t want him after all. His stomach churned thinking of everything he’d just confessed a few minutes ago. He sniffed and blinked away any tears threatening to break through again. “But, uh, that’s good. The brains. I guess. Is there something else? Other than, uh, this?” he asked. His brows were knit together as he searched her face for some sort of hint or answer. He had to wonder if it was something she couldn’t tell him. He hoped it wasn’t because she didn’t trust him.

Even from her sunken place, Morgan couldn’t help but snigger at the thought of Deirdre and Kaden in therapy...together. “Oh, that’s good. That’s amazing! Obviously I can’t pry for details, with confidentiality of course, but—oh, stars above, Kaden.” She beamed. “I’m happy for you two. You both definitely need it, and if you came out of it without stabbing each other, you must have found some kind of understanding in there.” She smirked again. “Does this mean you two could share a space without hurting each other for an hour?” She didn’t raise her voice above sarcasm, not daring to hope for even that much from the world right now, even those she cared about.

She wandered a little ahead of him, still looking for the hemlock. She didn’t enjoy lying to her friends and she didn’t like the sad puppy look on Kaden’s face, like he needed to be able to do something for her. He wouldn’t understand that he couldn’t offer her anything besides the murder of her friends, even if Lydia might deserve it. “Classified,” she said with a sad smile. “Fall is a hard time for me anyways. Constance’s curse usually took something away that mattered to me around this time, so there’s a lot of trauma stored inside this little corpse of mine. Apartments, cars, places, friends, my parents. It’s a whole thing. Kind of awful, since Samhain is my favorite holiday.” She shrugged, but there wasn’t much effort put into being convincing. When it came to dealing with loss, there didn’t seem to be much of a point to hiding it from Kaden.

Kaden immediately rolled his eyes at her response. Saw that coming a mile away. “Amazing’s not the fucking word I’d use for it.” Tedious, arduous, awful, all very good words for that experience. Amazing was not one. “You know if you still had your powers, I’d have half a mind to ask that it wasn’t you who set up that fucking circle. It seems like the kind of shit you’d pull.” Hell she seemingly tried to do it without magic now. And honestly, she might have some degree of success since Morgan was one of the few things Deirdre and he could manage to agree on. “Don’t get too excited. Wasn’t really a barrel of fucking laughs. Not until she--” Uh, right. Maybe he didn’t want to reveal to her how he fell flat on his face when the barrier fell away. “Never mind,” he added quickly.

There was a bird chirping overhead as she talked and it caught his eye. He didn’t need to watch her to know there was pain there. He could feel it. Even as blase as she was being. He understood. Sometimes you had to put up walls around loss or tuck it away for long enough to keep moving. “I’m sorry,” he said as he watched the bird take off and fly away, his eyes dropping back to her. It was unfair. All of it. Being cursed thanks to your family’s legacy. The puff of a laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. Sounded familiar. “Maybe this will be the last season Constance can take anything from you.” He wasn’t sure if that was hopeful or still just as depressing. It almost sounded nice, though. “You know, I never did much to celebrate holidays, even when my parents were alive. It just wasn’t as important. So I can’t say I know much about Samhain. Not that I, uh, I would. I’m guessing it’s a witch thing. So. Yeah.”

“I would never do that to you two as a surprise. Not unless I knew some trick for making sure you literally couldn’t hurt each other even if you tried,” Morgan admitted. “Besides, that’s got to be some offshoot of mental magic, and I could never figure any of that stuff out. Not that you don’t make it tempting. When this all shakes out in however long, if we’re all still alive, it might be nice to have that picnic.” She couldn’t picture it no matter how hard she tried, but her dad had believed that speaking things into the universe would help teach it to make them so. “You have more in common than you realize, Kaden. Even down to rubbing people the wrong way on a first impression.”

Morgan held herself still and cold as she could at Kaden’s attempt at comfort. ‘As much as she could,’ didn’t amount to much, but she didn’t feel like crying in front of him, especially when she could only explain some of what she was feeling. “I’d really like that, if this could just be the end of it. If I never had to feel...so fucking broken because of her again… I don’t even know how to talk about half the things her curse did to me and my family. It’s kind of amazing it took me so long to realize her bullshit is what made my mother into such a nightmare. But that’s…” she shook her head. It was all she had to hold onto besides Deirdre, and she was going to take it, no matter how gathering the materials for ritual made her feel. Not doing it was still worse. “It’s whatever,” she mumbled. She dug deep into herself and tried to rally some of her usual bright energy into her spirit. “But Samhain is for everyone! Or it can be. It’s all about paying homage to the harvest of the year, and for the harvest of our forebearers. What we have that’s grown, what’s going to survive the coming darkness and death of winter. It’s about bracing yourself for the worse still to come with...love, stupid as I’m sure that sounds to you.”

“So that I couldn’t stab her? Don’t get me wrong. I was tempted. But the whole being turned into a zombie thing seemed less than appealing,” Kaden retorted. Not to mention, without Deirdre, who would Regan  have to help her? Her grandmother, maybe, but something about even thinking about her sent a chill down his spine. Not that he had much reason to, he knew shit all about her or the circumstances. Then again, he’d seen that basement in Millinoket. He had to blink a moment at Morgan’s suggestion of a picnic with all four of them “Right. I’m the only one of the four of us who doesn't have centuries. Good luck waiting on that one.” It was meant to be a joke, but somehow it still stung a little in its own way. “I mean it’s hard to imagine all four of us in the same spot, all relatively okay.” Leave it to Morgan to remain hopeful despite the odds.

“I know you’re better at the feelings talk than I am, but I don’t think it’s whatever. Shit sucks.” Kaden reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He was pretty sure it wasn’t comforting or right. It wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with. He knew how to be around Regan. And Blanche. Sometimes Bea. And even then he was unsure of what was helpful, overbearing, incorrect. All he could do was try. “I mean it. If I can help. You just have to point me in the right direction.” He gave her shoulder one more squeeze before letting go. He knew actions weren’t weighted any more than words to her, at least not what he could gather. But they were to him. And it was all he knew to offer. So he’d try. It was what he could do. And he hoped she knew that. Still he had to laugh at what she said about Samhain. Bracing for the worst with love. “You’re right it does sound stupid,” he said, be he couldn’t help keep the smile off his face despite the sadness he still felt lingering. “But I have a feeling it’s the kind of shit I need a little more of. Maybe you can share a little more about it with me. We have plenty more sundays to go.”

“So you know about the lifespan, huh?” Morgan said, frowning sympathetically. “I don’t guess there’s anything to stretch lifespan out for hunters, is there? You’d think with all the cosmic public service and greater good talk you guys have, someone would have at least tried.” She frowned again, uncertain as to whether she sounded callous. “I’m sorry. I want you to be able to be here. I want you to stay with us. I want all of this to be okay in a few months, in a year. I don’t know, sometime. I feel like we should all get to have that so this feels worth it.”

Morgan almost cried at the whisper feeling of Kaden’s hand on her shoulder. “I wish I knew what the right direction was. Everything feels like it’s just...falling apart. The only thing that makes sense is… Okay, you have to confront violence with your morals all the time, so tell me this: is there anyone who ever hurt you so much that the only thing that makes sense is to get them back? How much hurt til it’s fair?�� But she couldn’t imagine more hurt on her shoulders and bound in her body until this moment. How much hurt could someone else bear from another person? The destruction, the fear, the loss (and there was so much loss, every week that re-opened another wound reminded her just how much). Maybe it didn’t, couldn’t matter what Kaden thought. “Never mind,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry… I do uh, I do think that it wouldn’t hurt you to lean into more love to get by. Maybe that’s how we try to find balance. Maybe that’s how we get to ‘after.’”

“I do. I mean, I know the general fae lifespan. So I figured.” Kaden gave a shrug, tried to brush off the hurt. It was stupid. He’d never get centuries even if it were possible. Ever. That wasn’t how hunting worked. “My lifespan has been stretched, Morgan. I’ve had more near death experiences than most people ever do. This is it. This is what I--” He felt his voice rising, anger rising up with it, and he wasn’t sure when his words choked him, what part made him stop. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know all this, hadn’t reckoned with it before. A long time ago. “Sorry. I-- Sorry. I would like us all to be around, too.” He was more and more reminded why he had only lived in pockets of time. It was all he was guaranteed. And even then.

He stood and listened to what she said. Took it all in. “Yes.” It wasn’t a hard question. Was there anything he hated so much he wanted revenge? Easily. “I don’t know about fair. I don’t think it’ll ever be fair. No matter what I do. No matter what anyone does. What’s lost can’t come back, it’ll never be fucking fair.  But it can be over. I can make sure no one else suffers like this. That the hurt they cause is done. Forever.” If anyone understood the desire for revenge, it was him. It had dulled a bit after fifteen years, sure, but not much. “You’re right I don’t have to. But I’m offering. And you could be right. Just maybe.”

Morgan stared into the dark, knowing Kaden was right in more ways than she wanted to admit. Maybe it was just the steady creep of winter, or the wounds on her psyche blending her brain into mush, but seemed like even her anchors were shriveling up in her hands and slipping away. Ideas she had started to cling to weren’t worth as much as she’d thought. My friends will stay with me. Believe in me. Even her old standby, ‘tomorrow might be better,’ didn’t steady her the way it used to. She grimaced, holding herself against her pain and mumbled, “Fate’s a son of a bitch.” It was hard to believe her curse was lifted when every time she tried to push back on Constance, she lost whatever she cared about. It almost lent credence to Deirdre’s fae bullshit about a supernatural caste system, like all she could do was take shit for someone else’s baggage or get more for trying to do something about it. At least seeing things through her way would prove that her life wasn’t made to be anyone’s chew toy or snack pack. Not that anyone understood how the need to make any of this different ground against her sanity. No matter what she said, it never sank in beyond some ‘horrifying’ hypothetical. And, stars, sometimes it horrified her too, but she couldn’t turn her back on herself.

Then Kaden said yes. Morgan squinted at him in the twilight, wincing at the bittersweet rush of warm understanding that filled her. “Finished is one word, yeah. I thought we were finished before, but, you know, guess not. And I keep feeling like...I need to be the one who decides how it goes, for once. Even if it’s just to give her back even a fraction of the suffering she’s given me as she’s wiped off the earth. My terms, for once.” It was one of the few things that still made sense, that she felt remotely certain of. “I hope you get yours too,” she said. “Maybe it won’t take so long for you, at least, huh? Maybe we’ll get what we need and come out of this all shiny and happy.” She didn’t believe a word of what she was saying, but maybe it would happen anyway. Maybe.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

New Year, New Tears || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: December 30, 2020

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Deirdre need to talk before they can start the new year fresh. 

Say that you'll hold me forever Say that the wind won't change on us Say that we'll stay with each other And it will always be like this

CONTAINS: brief, non-specific references to past abuse, negative self-talk

Morgan had made sure they arrived in New York in time for checking in and knocking off the first few items on the itinerary she’d devised. Initially, Morgan had organized the activities mix-and-match style according to how many hours they had at their disposal and how much time they wanted to spend in bed. In the fall, she had imagined a lot of New York would pass by behind drawn curtains while they had as many kinds of sex as they could think of and they would content themselves with only so many big things and so many little things into their three and a half days away from Maine. Today, it went like this: they dropped their bags off in their suite (in the first room, Morgan insisted they could work it out later), walked to a gourmet bakery, and took what Deirdre didn’t eat at the place up to Central Park. Then came a taxi to a cluster of rare and second-hand bookshops, and just enough time to change before catching the evening showing of Hadestown. Morgan left the theater with her arms tight around Deirdre’s waist, singing her favorite song with careless delight.

Paris had been good to them, a testament just how easy things could be. The days after stung a little, because Morgan felt weird about their bedroom, didn’t want to stay in the hotel long term, didn’t have the tiny house Deirdre had offered to help her assemble in the back yard yet, and feared latching on too hard and destabilizing herself all over again if she dove in ‘business almost as usual’ style. Because she did latch. Her heart’s freedom and her Yuletide warmth had stayed with her, sending tingles up her skin and reaching out to Deirdre to share and spread the relief between them. Touch was intuitive again, smiles came more easily--but where was the line between happiness and impending danger? She hadn’t been able to tell the difference before; would the universe guide her steps and show her now? And so every day ended a little different. Every coming and going hit a different note, some off key, some resonant with hope. But tonight, in a world so iconic and strange it seemed like something she’d dreamed, Morgan couldn’t find any of her old apprehensions. She couldn’t imagine doing anything but staying next to her love until the sun rose out their window. She tumbled into their hotel room, still singing, and kicked off her heels and jumped up for a heavy kiss. “So, you really liked it? I’ve been wanting to ask, but I couldn’t really hear in the street: which song was your favorite--no, which part in the story? I wanna know everything you’re thinking about.” She parted just to shove their suitcases off the bed and flop onto it, evening dress and all.

Human stories delighted Deirdre in a way that often felt forbidden. The fae stories focused far more on mischief and chaos and humans dying, and while those were fine, they were nothing like the stories Morgan had shown her. The kind she had come to enjoy greatly. When Morgan told her they’d watch a musical, she thought of all the ones she was familiar with; Waitress, The Sound of Music, that one about the pies with human meat, and if those Disney movies counted, then those too. But what she watched was nothing of the sort, and New York, as exciting as it had already been, seemed brighter, warmer, livelier. Was this what it was like to be human; uncomplicated and free? Could they eat baked goods, watching the sun set, going to bookstores, absorbing stories finely crafted by strangers? Could they be so....normal? Deirdre’s smile faltered for a moment as she watched Morgan flop on the hotel bed. For the duration of their trip, she kept a watchful eye over her happiness; she had been trained well in the ways it needed to be contained. And her hands, that wanted Morgan then and wanted Morgan now, needed to be reined in. They couldn’t be so normal, not yet. Normal them would have been making love by now, evening dresses crumpled on the floor. And that question would have been asked breathless, in her arms, just as Morgan remembered she never heard the answer, and had gotten distracted along the way. Normal them would have slept like that, woke up like that, went about their days exactly like that. Normal them didn’t need to worry about tamping down happiness, they simply were. But normal them was wrong, somehow, as Morgan had said it and as Deirdre struggled to understand. And normal them was gone, and present them needed to work on building a good future them so they wouldn’t break again.

But holding each other was ‘free’, and so whatever compunctions Deirdre had about intimacy now, that wasn’t one. And she fell into bed beside Morgan, pulling her love into her arms until they were tangled together the way they fit best. “You mean you couldn’t hear me over your singing,” Deirdre teased with a laugh, delighted in equal parts by memory of the show and Morgan’s glee. If she’d thought Morgan’s squealing in the snow in Paris was the happiest she might see Morgan for the year, she only wished she could go back and tell herself not to be so sure. “And you’re sure no one saw me crying in the theater, right? Because I don’t--” She cut herself off with a chuckle, “well, I don’t know. Maybe you should sing through the tracklist again so I can figure out my favorite.” With a grin, she pressed her lips to Morgan’s quickly, mumbling rough against them. “It’s better, coming from you. Oh and--” Deirdre drew back. “I have some complaints about story choices here. You said this was based on something? Why did he turn around? That’s just--” She pouted. “It was mean. You didn’t tell me it would be a sad story.” Admittedly, not Deirdre’s favorite kind of story--tragedies left her heart with a strange, unnamed, kind of heaviness. A feeling that she hadn’t yet picked apart and dissected meaning from, a feeling she had been long since afraid to try with. “I did like it.”

Morgan sighed with delight as Deirdre joined her on the bed and tangled them up like normal. The fluffy tulle under her skirt bunched up around her thighs and the simple boning around her bodice made it hard to curl up as snug as she really wanted, but Morgan was too happy to mind any of it past fiddling with her zipper and tugging it down a few centimeters. She cradled Deirdre’s face and kissed it several times over as her banshee gave her answer, lingering and nipping here and there as it pleased her.

“It was also loud with the cars going by us too,” Morgan protested, though she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Because you don’t what, babe? It’s okay, you know, right? I cried too, and the lady in front of us was crying much harder than either of us. The story’s supposed to make you feel something. That’s the magic in it. You don’t have to feel weird about any of that.” There was more to say, but Morgan leaned in and drew out another kiss, long and enthusiastic and tender when she remembered the exact look that had shown in her love’s face in the dark theater.

“I am sorry the ending hurt you by surprise,” she said, threading more kisses around Deirdre’s jaw. “It’s a very old human story, actually, from Greek antiquity. I never liked it before, because it doesn’t explain why he did it, so I always thought—yeesh, dude, you had one job! How much did you really love her anyway? But the way this version tells it…” Morgan sighed and settled her face in the crook of her love’s neck. “He held onto so much hope for so long, even when the disappointment started to break him. And then having to keep going without her, when they’d barely even touched since they’d found each other, having to believe she wouldn’t leave again, that he was really worth all this trouble— I think anyone would at least think about turning to be sure. And it was just a second, you know? Just a quick, desperate mistake. And I think it’s so sad because their love was so much bigger than that one mistake, it’s not fair for them to lose it. But the universe is brutal sometimes, and that’s why hope is so hard and special in the first place…” Morgan’s hand slid down to Deirdre’s chest and started tracing shapes over her heart, occasionally skirting along the hem of her own bodice where it kissed the swell of her breasts. “I am glad you liked it,” she murmured. “Even if I would rather hear your favorite song from you.”

Though Deirdre hummed under each touch—leaning closer to Morgan, urging more—her hands remained stiff and chaste around her, despite the twitch that radiated from her fingers. The bright grin that claimed her mouth was evidence enough that she wanted this, and wanted more, but she couldn’t have it. Her body stiffened as her voice remained light. “But this is different from crying over those cartoons in our—“ Deirdre swallowed. “The house; in private. This is different.” As Morgan kissed her, her twitching fingers curled into a claw at Morgan’s back, bunching tight fabric and digging into skin under her harsh grip. As much as she wanted to move, she did not. As Morgan continued to explain Orpheus’s plight, Deirdre thought about her own restraint. If that were her, she wouldn’t have turned around at all. She wasn’t even doing it now, as much as she twitched and stiffened and clawed for it—she was being good, dutiful, devoted. And yet, for all her carefulness, she’d let curiosity slip between her carefully crafted walls. “Is that how you felt?” She blinked, “is this…’turning around’?” She shook her head, wincing at the question—coated in metaphor as it was, even if Morgan could pick apart what she meant, it wasn’t the point. She already knew their love was bigger than their mistakes, but she suddenly understood the nature of doubt in a chilling way. She knew the truth, and yet….well, perhaps she shouldn’t have been so sure of her powers of self-control. Maybe she wasn’t any better than Orpheus after all.

Deirdre turned her gaze to the window, mumbling her requests for Morgan to forget she’d said anything. “I like ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ best, for now.” It was night, not that it was any easier to tell over the lights of New York. It was her body that told her first, in the yawn that erupted from her, before her eyes could even settle on the inky sky. “It’s getting late,” she commented. Her arms slackened. It was time for her to leave, probably. As it usually went, at least. And if she really wanted to try to be better than a fictional Greek myth, she ought to listen to the rules laid about before her. Morgan never shared a bed with her anymore, and she slept holding a pillow tight to her chest in the lonely privacy of her office. When she woke, the sight of an empty wall greeted her. If she was lucky, it would be one of the three cats instead. If she was really, really lucky, it was two of them. She could only hope the hotel pillows were close enough to the Morgan-replacement one she normally held; if she could’ve stuffed it into her suitcase, she would’ve. “I’ll take my things into the other room.”

“No, stay.” The words burst out of Morgan before she could think better of them, even just to have a better follow up argument besides, “Please.” She winced, and would have flushed if she had any blood flow in her face. She moved her arms around her love’s neck and pleaded with her eyes. A moment ago, Deirdre had been giving her so many green lights and their touch and their bodies all struck the right chord, harmonizing with such rich, perfect clarity, Morgan didn’t want the feeling to fade out.

“First of all, it is our house. Or it kind of is, or I want it to be. And second, I don’t want to forget what you said. It matters to me.” She caressed her face tenderly, hoping to convey her earnestness, her confidence. “You did...it did feel like you left me and ran away. All the note said was you weren’t dead, I didn’t know if that meant wait for me or don’t follow me, and by the end of that week, I was starting to wonder if…” Morgan shrugged, trying to keep the leftover hurt far away from her in a box at the bottom of her heart. “...if you still wanted me at all. I didn’t know how to believe you were still with me and so I turned around then, yeah. And in those days before Yule, I did kind of want to know how worth it you thought I was. Some of the ways I did that weren’t fair or kind to you. I was just…” She shrugged. “Clinging to some leftover revenge bullshit, maybe. It seemed so important that you really, really understand how it felt. None of the words I had felt good enough. And maybe if you’d take it, it would mean you would stay, or if you understood, you wouldn’t do it again. But I buried all that in Strawford, babe. I don’t need or want that. I didn’t excise the hurt completely, but I took enough out of me that I can be close to you without getting a complex about it. Enough that I can be-- stars, so incredibly happy with you. And I’ve missed that feeling so much, I don’t want to let it go right now. Haven’t you felt...lighter today? Freer? I know it’s just for a little bit, but everything’s been so hard, I don’t see the point in denying ourselves a few good nights together. I literally can’t think of anything I want more immediately than to stay here with you all night. And this isn’t even the first night I’ve felt that way, it just feels so much more silly not to follow through with the feeling when we’re away from everything else in a beautiful city plastered over a hundred movies.”

Morgan kissed Deirdre then, firm with determination. “For me, the place we’re at right now is us walking together. It’s not the way we came and I don’t know what’s next, I’m just believing as hard as I can that we’re gonna make it after coming this far. I looked, and you were there, and we’re lucky enough that we can keep walking after. That’s what I feel like this is, babe.” Her fingers idled around Deirdre’s shoulders, the ends of her hair, the gentle curve of her neck. She knew this was all dependent on what her girlfriend thought, that though they were walking, maybe they weren’t in exactly the same place yet. Her smile faltered with worry, but she held tight to her nerve and kept herself steady, though her voice was soft. “What is this for you? What do you think about...what I’m suggesting, for how we spend the nights this trip? Tell me what you think, huh…?”

Deirdre’s face softened instantaneously, her hands moved around Morgan to hold her, comfort her. It was a reaction of the body more than it was the mind, and her body wanted to yield to Morgan. To say that she would stay, that she could, that she wanted to and that she’d work out every bead of pain in Morgan’s body until her fingers bled. But the usual enthusiastic yes, yes, was replaced with lips pulled thin, brows furrowed. Her mind was a little more cautious, as it always had been. She shook her head; she hadn’t felt exactly freer or lighter. Her dutifulness was a devious prison, and it caged the rest of her well. Morgan wanted space, and Deirdre had worked it into her mind that she would provide. Every smile died miserably with guilt. And every touch withered with worry. It seemed so important to Morgan that they didn’t sleep together, Deirdre respected the choice as well as she could respect anything she didn’t want. She had thought it was so strange to deny it to themselves days ago. Weeks ago. But it was important to Morgan. And now it...wasn’t? Deirdre shook her head again as they parted. “What do you want me to do, Morgan?” Her shoulders sagged, her face contorted with confusion and hurt. The dark circles around her eyes must have been more clear then, even under the makeup, or at least she felt like they were. The nights of restless sleep without Morgan took their toll, and chilling fatigue coiled around her bones again as the mind remembered what the body could never forget. “I love laying with you; before I met you sleep was just a means to an end for me and now it...it feels like rest. Good rest. But you said you wanted your space, and I am trying my best to respect that. You set the rules Morgan, but you can’t just—“ Deirdre swallowed, turning her gaze away.

This was stupid. Any sane person would have just given in and cuddled up; her insides begged her to. She was so tired and so desperate for Morgan that she’d take just about any scrap offered. But her stomach lurched and her head throbbed; it wasn’t right. “Don’t make me into some thing you use for comfort and then leave again. Don’t just, ask for me to stay and then make me sleep alone again. I can’t—“ She closed her eyes, finding her breathing (In. Hold. Out) without Morgan’s usual prompting.

When Deirdre turned back, she was calmer, though no less pained. “You want space. That isn’t space. And I don’t want your progress to be hindered by these moments of permissibility. But more than that, I need rules. I can’t do this without rules. I need something to follow and tell me I’m doing this right. I need something, my love.” She sighed, shoulders slumped again, victim to Morgan’s touch. She hated herself so completely sometimes; how terrible and idiotic it was that her mind couldn’t just accept this. She wanted it more than anything else. “It doesn’t feel like we’re walking together, Morgan. I’ve told you that already. I’m just trying to do what’s right, but I can’t even tell what that is.” How could it possibly be walking together when she didn’t want space at all? Was it ‘walking together’ when they weren’t yet a couple? Or was that just Morgan, waiting? Wasn’t this just her, waiting?

“I’m sorry,” Morgan murmured. “I just...it just felt so good today, and I’ve felt lighter and so much better since last week and I just thought--” She squeezed Deirdre close, pressing her into a comforting grip. “You’re not a thing, that’s not what I meant. I’m so sorry you’ve felt like I don’t value you or that I’m doing this casually or anything else like--” Morgan grimaced and told the rest of her apologies with kisses through Deirdre’s hair. “I’m just sorry,” she whispered after a while.

She shifted back, just enough to see Deirdre’s as she guided it up to meet her own. “I’ve never been great with rules. It’s not intuitive for me. I’m not used to having that kind of structure in the first place, or anything staying steady enough for too many rules to work, and anytime I feel good, it’s usually so rare I don’t really think to question it or hold back anymore, especially with you. So I-I don’t mean to mess up and confuse you and hurt you like this. That’s not what I want. I want you so very much, my love, but I want your peace of mind and your comfort too.”

Morgan pressed a tender kiss to Deirdre’s forehead, whispering another apology against her skin before sitting back again. “I love you. Always, I love you, Deirdre. And I want to do better. I want to give you what you need. But I also…” She winced, her face twisting with worry. “I just don’t want to get so set in one set of rules that we don’t ever come back together all the way. I don’t want to stay so apart from you. Whatever we come up with, I want it to be something we can change later, somehow, in a way that doesn’t hurt. Maybe at a regular interval, once a week, maybe? Or we can ask? Either way, I’d like to write some new ones for us. Starting with working out a different sleeping arrangement system, if, you know…if that’s okay?” She reached slowly behind her for the hotel stationary pad, taut as a spring with hope. Wherever they really were in this metaphor, she knew she wanted to be moving forward.

Deirdre slumped, sinking further into the plush mattress. A sense of defeat rolled over her, washing her body with its cold tide. You couldn’t just let Morgan be happy? Deirdre’s grip on the sheets tightened. “No, I-I’m sorry this is…” Stupid, she’d wanted to say. They were happy, and fine, and what did it matter to her if she just let them cuddle for a few days? Why did it matter? Her mind had projected itself far enough into the future that she could feel the sting of lonely nights fresh again, after the bliss of restful sleep. Her body, once enthusiastic about giving in, recoiled in fear. She couldn’t understand what created such a challenge for her, and she didn’t possess the words to explain it. “I’m tired,” she said, unable to think of anything else. Fatigue drowned her; sad eyes morphed to tired-red, and her face sank. “I like rules.” Which was strange for a fae to say, but her life had been dominated by them, and under their command, she knew what was right and what was wrong.

She hadn’t known what was right and what was wrong for some time now. Rules would be nice, thank you, she opened her mouth and pictured the words coming out. No, actually, just forget it, I’m too tired to care now, and even that wouldn’t leave in anything more than a whimper. I just want us to be better; I hate sleeping apart from you, I hate not knowing what’s wrong, the truth of it made Deirdre’s eyes water. She hated the “space”. She hated the stupid studio, which only served to churn her insides with melancholy every time she looked out their back window. She hated that she couldn’t understand what to do--the books had told her to “not take it personally” but how exactly was she supposed to not take her girlfriend wanted an entire living space outside of their home in any other way but personal? She hated the self-help books, and their confusing language and messages. And she hated herself, for being so angry. Morgan wanted space, and though Deirdre struggled to rationalize the why, she wanted to give that to her. And she was trying, except her trying seemed to be flawed. So she had to try a different way, but that was flawed too. And now she was making her girlfriend make a list, even though she said she didn’t like rules, and was afraid of what they might do. The word “compromise” came to mind, and then her mother telling her that compromise was something idiots did when they were either too cowardly to rend open and offer themselves out or too weak to get their way. What was it, but Morgan having to suffer more on Deirdre’s behalf?

The banshee shifted. When she spoke finally, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to. You didn’t appreciate it much when I asked you for rules the first time around. And I don’t want to put you through that again. Just...tell me what I’m supposed to do. If you want me to stay, I can stay.”

Morgan let Deirdre fall away, feeling her body tense. “Hey…” she cooed. She hesitated to scoop Deirdre up, knowing that it was just as likely that she was punishing herself as it was that she didn’t want to be touched. In the end, she split the difference by finger-combing her hair, taking out each of the little pins she ran into and setting them neatly aside. “Don’t be sorry, my love. I’m proud of you, for telling me what you need. And yeah, it’s weird and hard, not having our instincts aligned when it comes to us, but I think we can compromise. No one has to hurt so much or feel completely out of her depth. I think that’s how we’re gonna get through this.” She slid down beside her banshee and kissed her hair. “You’re right, I had a really hard time with the rules the first time we made them, but I was also in a really low place, and I was really lost and hadn’t figured out much of anything about what to do with myself. But I think they weren’t such a terrible idea after all, especially then. And I'm in a different, better spot now. And I want to do this. I’m offering. And as long as we can revisit these and change them so we can keep moving closer together, I’ll make the rules as detailed as you need them to be.”

But Deirdre’s pain was more than that. The ache in her went deeper than a worry that Morgan didn’t really want to go along with her idea. Morgan didn’t think that would be enough to make her love cry on its own. Slowly, she reached over and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “If you’re tired, we can just come up with a few rules for tonight and do the rest in the morning. But I think sooner is better than later, because...it just seems like we both want to be closer, more intimate, than we have been, and if we both want that, it seems awful to keep ourselves from it. We just have to make sure we’re doing it in a way that doesn’t hurt so much, you know?” She wiped another one of Deirdre’s tears. “...Babe,” she said, lowering her voice, just above a whisper. “Can you tell me what it is that’s bothering you so much right now? What it is that’s so sad or stressful… I need you to talk to me, babe. Right now, I need that very much. It doesn’t even have to make much of any sense. I just don’t want to do the thing where you hurt in silence and I’m on the outside trying to figure out what to do on my own.”  She let her fingers slide down Deirdre’s cheek, tracing the gentle lines of it. “I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to, babe. I’m here, and I think we can figure out how to get to ‘okay.’ We just have to do it together.”

Deirdre’s mind coursed with the same words pulsing in numbing repetition: dumb, stupid, idiotic, dumb, stupid-- She hissed as Morgan’s fingers pushed through her hair, not from the contact, which was gentle by all accounts, but from the uncanny ability they possessed to make Deirdre feel raw. It was medically impossible, but she thought Morgan could feel her thoughts through her scalp, that she could pick each one out word by word. Don’t look, don’t look. Deirdre closed her eyes. Was she more embarrassed that her mind had dissolved to such negative prattle or that she knew Morgan wouldn’t like it anymore than Deirdre would enjoy Morgan beating herself up? But her habit of self-flagellation was one Morgan knew well, and had never responded with cruelty to before. Morgan was kind, and Morgan was gentle, and Morgan loved her. Yet for all she understood, all she could think about was how terrible she must be, wasting Morgan’s time and energy like this. Morgan should’ve been taking care of herself, and instead, here she was. Dumb, stupid, idiotic, dumb, stupid… “No,” she croaked, “no, you really don’t have to do that. I know it’s hard for--you need space. You wanted to...think about yourself. Figure that out. And you said you don’t like rules and I...can manage. I can do that for you.” Her heart clenched, her face twisted with pain. Her body was so tired; she had nothing left to give of herself. Please stop, please stop. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t. “Together…” she rolled the word around against her tongue. To-geth-er; foregin, by an unnameable metric, but an idea she could latch her words to. The good words. “Not together.” Well, the mediocre words. “Not--you need--you said--you--” She swallowed. “The books, I don’t understand them. And the studio it--” She closed her eyes again. Stop, stop, stop. “Roots grow big, and long, and they take from the soil. And the other plants dry, but that’s okay, because you need it now. You need it.” Deirdre opened her eyes, shaking her head. “That’s the only thing I understand about this. I think the books are trying to say that the other plants shouldn’t dry for each other, but does that mean you have to be transplanted into a new bed so you can grow, and what does that mean for--” Deirdre hissed. “This garden metaphor is dumb. I just mean, I don’t even understand what was wrong in the first place. And maybe it’s stupid of me but I thought we were fine, but we weren’t, and now what? And I know it’s idiotic, but I don’t get it.”

Morgan listened, burning with aches as she saw Deirdre nearly writhing with pain. It was like looking into a cruel, double sided mirror. Here was her pain during all those grief days, her desperation, now with Deirdre’s face. Here was every reason to go into that therapist’s office as soon as they could get in. They couldn’t stay trapped in these patterns, they couldn’t sink into this much hurt for each other so easily, not if they wanted to last for centuries. Morgan adjusted herself so one of her arms could drape around Deirdre and take her hand while the other twisted up on the pillow and worked tenderly at the tension in her love’s scalp.

“It’s not idiotic or stupid or dumb, Deirdre. None of those things. And I got what you were saying with the garden metaphor, even if it has its limits.” Close as she was to Deirdre now, her lips brushed against her ear and neck as she spoke, and it was nothing at all to press a kiss to the nape and remember its tender, sweaty feel. “You know, for a while, I couldn’t put words to it either, but I was looking over my notebooks and this letter draft I had. I think it was the last one I wrote when I was still alive. I said something like, before you I had this little world inside me...” She let go of Deirdre’s hand to make a little sphere with her own. “And it wasn’t perfect, but it was whole and it was good. And then I found you, and you loved me, and we started making a life together, and suddenly there was more.” She took her sphere hand and stuck it on Deirdre’s trying to mould it into some expanded, hybrid shape. “And I guess once you start looking at the whole thing as space, it sort of becomes like a building. I had, let’s say, three walls holding me up. And then you came and then I had four walls. I was even bigger and stronger and had so much more possibilities. But then I died. And when I lost my senses, my magic, my life….those were my walls and they all collapsed.” She crumpled and flattened her hand to illustrate her point. “And if it wasn’t for you reminding me that you, my newest support, were still standing, I would’ve just stayed collapsed. But you did. And I finally had one whole thing to balance and fill myself with. I could finally get off the ground, and maybe our therapist will have some thoughts about that, but I can’t see that as anything but a good thing, as you saving me. The problem is, after that…” Morgan sighed, wincing. She still didn’t know when she could’ve done anything different, what opportunity she could have realistically taken to build herself better and spared them this. Maybe if she had just magically known what she knew now, if her mind hadn’t been so scrambled by death that the thoughts wouldn’t seem so hard to get to...but that wasn’t how it had been.

“I wish I could figure out another way for it to have gone, besides me just listening to you and staying alive, but I can’t. We did the only things we could think of, so it can’t be anyone’s fault, but...the problem is after that, there was still a whole me. A whole world, a whole building, and only one support to carry me. And before, when I had three, you could come and go and we could separate for those awful times, and it would hurt, but I was still upright. But with only one support for my whole self...every time you left, or seemed to leave, every time I was afraid you just might, or afraid you’d even be angry with me, I would collapse again.” She put her hand through the motions, growing to only a fraction of the old size and collapsing, like a heart losing the will to beat. “I mean, remember that first time you needed to go away for the night and I wrecked the house and you found me on the floor? There’s just so much of me, I can’t be held up with only one piece, no matter what it is. It’s just absurd to build anything that way, much less me, right? There’s not enough to hold up everything that was, much less everything and more.” She sniffled, blinking back a tear. “And it took me having to go without you, to fear the absolute worst for you for so many awful days, to realize that. But, when I did, I felt like the only way I could figure out what else to build myself up with is to keep going without, with intention. And I found another wall to hold me up in Strawford, when I gave my hurt to the earth and my heart to the universe. And I’ve found another in my arts and crafts work. Housing those new supports in the studio right now help remind me that these are separate and sturdy and mine. I’ve been a lot less insecure about wanting you now that I have that space, if you haven’t noticed.” She pressed another kiss to Deirdre’s neck. “I can just picture that place and know those supports are there. And I’ll be working again soon, and Leah said I could help with the library, and Remmy gave me the keys to the supernatural sanctuary, and I just know, because I know I belong here and the universe is holding me in my own place and my body is more than just a walking death--I know I have all the supports I need even if they aren’t firmly set into the ground yet. And so I feel confident in letting myself be so much closer to you now than I did before. I’m not so fragile anymore. You are my only and dearest love, and you are still one of my supports. You just help me have more, and not just the bare minimum. It should be like that, shouldn’t it? Us making the world wider and brighter than before…?”

There was a measure of anger to feel how easily her fears buckled once reassured by Morgan. It was childish, Deirdre thought, that her feelings could be so sensitive. Her sensitivity was something she had fought to hide away, bury deep and forget about. And yet— The stiffness in Deirdre’s body caved, and she reached for her girlfriend, curling fingers around the fabric of her dress. Her gaze followed down to the demonstration unfolding in her hand. She could see the little house Morgan was talking about, that happy, stable life. Then she could see it crumble, and become a fraction of what it once was. Morgan built her supports again, she was still building them. Some of this rang with familiarity; she knew this. But the ease of the metaphor gave Deirdre a chance to reflect on something she never had: her own life, and its supports. She had her house too, or she did. And then she had Morgan, and her house wasn’t so much a house as it turned out to be a cave. But she’d only managed just the one support, afraid of anything else—confused, lost. She missed the routine of her cave, but that had crumbled now. Deirdre drew her hand back with a frown, making and un-making a fist. It made sense, and with the sense, a terrible hollowness. There was something wrong with her and no amount of fixation on fixing Morgan and their relationship would suddenly give her any of that purpose she wanted.

Morgan had explained this in some words before, but Deirdre hadn’t made much sense of it then. Hearing it again, the picture was more clear. Deirdre sighed. “I suppose.” She unfurled her hand and stared at the wrinkles in her palm. She drew her other hand back from where it had fastened on to the front of Morgan’s dress, trying to draw her own house connecting the wrinkles. Morgan had done fine on her journey to stability, but Deirdre hadn’t moved an inch; she didn’t want to move. Her mother often admonished the predictability of humans, the creatures of comfort that they were, but Deirdre felt herself no different. She missed the cave. “I don’t think my world is very wide or bright, Morgan.” She spoke mostly to her palm, which had yet to yield a usable house. “But I think I get what you mean now.” Giving up her quest, she bundled her hands together and looked up. “Thank you. I think I understand it now. Truly. Properly.”

“No, I guess it’s not,” Morgan admitted with a sorrowful whisper. She had urged Deirdre, even when things were good, to find more than just her to sustain herself on. But her love, in all her fear and bewilderment, hadn’t found the courage yet. Then again, she was afraid of picking out the color of the furniture, so things had to come in small steps. “But I have every belief that it will be. And you’re welcome. Any time, my love.” She bundled Deirdre into her arms and threaded kisses along her forehead. “Can you tell me what you need right now, or what you want? I want to stay close with you tonight and take a couple hours in the other room sometime tomorrow morning to meditate alone. But I don’t want you to hurt, or be afraid. So just tell me, okay? We’ll find a way to make the pieces fit.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be. It’s not supposed to—“ Deirdre slammed her mouth shut, hissing down a sob. This was a rhetoric that she had touted since the day she met Morgan, and she knew Morgan hadn’t grown any fonder for it. “I just want to sleep.” She sighed, humming her way into a more comfortable position in Morgan’s arms. She bundled her face into the crook of her neck, tangling her long legs into Morgan’s. The pieces of their bodies already fit, the rest they’d just have to figure out. “Can I sleep here? Can you hold me? Can I just...rest?”

Morgan crooned contentedly as Deirdre wriggled in and their bodies made a home with each other. “Oh, is that all, just sleep?” She teased softly, her voice lilting with comforting warmth. “No back rub? No helping out of your dress? No ambient lullabies or kisses?” She caressed Deirdre as she spoke, giving her a squeeze that she hoped expressed that she had no objections if this was how they would lay for the night, petticoats and stockings and all. It had been so very long since they’d been like this, their stillness harmonizing just right, together and apart, whole and connected. “Yes, my love. I will hold you right here, happily, and you can rest.”

“I’d have to move to get out of this dress.” Deirdre laughed against Morgan’s skin. Moving sounded like just about the worst thing she could think of. A truly dreadful thing to ask for. “Just sleep.” She smiled, eased in the arms of her love. It felt a little more like walking together then, and less like blind stumbling. Maybe she’d apologize in the morning for being so dense about it, but that was a morning problem. All she wanted now was the peace of Morgan’s embrace; she’d missed it more every second she had to do without it, and she relinquished herself to the feeling. With anguish alleviated from her mind, if not in permanence then just long enough to humor the night, she was sure this trip would be good to them. 

For the first time in weeks, a gentle sleep greeted her. And beyond it, the flicker of hope, illuminated under New York City lights: tomorrow, a day as gentle as the night, spent in museums and cemeteries and— with little coaxing— a bakery. They’d watch the ball drop through their hotel window. They’d hold each other, kiss and dance and laugh as Deirdre expressed her disappointment in the lack of big apples. Then she’d sleep again, restful as the day before. And hope would grow, and love would remind her that they carved their own good into the world; walking together sounded like just about the best thing she’d ever heard. And it made everything possible.

Even a brand new year, better than the last.

[nomattertheoceans]

Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest - Day 2

I’m trying to study

Prompt: you’re my college roommate’s sibling/best friend and you’ve come to visit for a week since you’re done school but unlike some people, I have three more finals to study for so kindly fuck off - 1,9K words

She was never going to make it through the last week of her exams. She still had three finals coming up, and she was exhausted.

Plus, it didn’t help that her roommate Mor was already done with her finals, and was currently splayed out on Feyre’s bed and painting her nails, humming a Christmas song between her lips.

“Mor.”

“Mmh?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry,” she laughed, and Feyre rolled her eyes. She went back to her flashcards and tried to focus.

Mor was humming again thirty seconds later. Feyre didn’t restrain a loud sigh.

“Why are you still here again?”

“I told you, there’s this party I want to go to tonight. I’m not going home until tomorrow morning.”

“No, I know why you’re still in town. Why are you still in the dorm?”

“I’m waiting for my cousin to text me once he’s in front of the building.” Feyre stopped scrolling through her cards and looked back at her roommate.

“You cousin? I thought he was supposed to pick you up in tomorrow to go to your aunt’s house?”

“He was, but his last final was re-scheduled and he finished today so he’s coming here for the party. Did I not tell you that?”

“You obviously didn't. Please tell me he’s not crashing here, Mor. I need to work.”

Mor got up and started rummaging through her make-up case with the hand with the already dry nail polish. “He is. But I promise we won’t make noise. And he’s pretty cool, you’re two are gonna get along well, I’m sure.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. She loved Mor, but seeing her getting ready for a party when she had to stay in and study was getting harder by the second. Because she really would have liked to put on a nice dress, paint her nails, go to the party, drink,... But instead she was stuck in her dorm, her and her bajillion flashcards.

***

At some point she’d changed into her pajamas and relocated from her desk to her bed in the hope of focusing better. But she’d fallen asleep in minutes, exhausted after not having slept for twenty-six hours straight, and she was woken up by the loud bang of the door opening. She jolted open, and was ready to start yelling at Mor for not being more discreet.

But it wasn’t Mor at the door. It was a guy.

A gorgeous guy, tall with brown skin and black hair and incredible blue eyes. Mor’s cousin, she’d seen him in a few photos - photos that definitely didn’t live up to reality.

“Hi,” he said with a large smile. “Are you Mor’s roommate?”

So he knew about her. And yet he’d banged the door against the wall without a care in the world. “I am. And you cut me off in my studying, so thank you for that.”

He laughed and closed the door behind him before coming close to her bed. She was about to say something when she saw he was not actually headed to her bed, but to Mor’s, a few feet away from hers.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here. Since you weren’t at the party, I assumed you’d gone home for the holidays.”

“I still have finals this week, so no. Mor told me she’d tell you to leave me alone. She didn’t say anything, right?”

“Nope. She only said she’d like for us to meet because we’d get along.”

“Where is Mor, by the way?”

“She went to her girlfriend’s. Told me to take her bed.”

Feyre frowned at that. Her girlfriend had already gone home. What was Mor playing at?

“Yeah well… I’m just going to keep working then.”

She looked away from him and went back to her flashcards. But she was almost immediately distracted by movement from Mor’s bed. Because Rhysand was getting undressed. He’d taken off his shoes, his jacket, and now he was pulling his shirt above his head, giving  Feyre an extensive view of his very muscled torso, his entire chest covered by intricate tattoos. She let her eyes drift down to his lean abs, and stared for far too long than what would be considered appropriate. Apparently unaware of her gaze, Rhysand got up and started undoing his belt. That’s when Feyre snapped out of her thoughts.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m…. going to bed? What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re getting naked in front of me.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!”

She didn’t understand what he meant at first, until she recalled what pajamas she’d chosen for tonight. A very, very short nightgown that barely covered the top of her thighs and left her legs completely exposed. She felt heat creep up her cheeks and looked away.

“Yeah, well… You’re not supposed to look.”

He snorted. “Then I guess you’re not supposed to look either, Darling.” And with that he resumed unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Feyre coughed and looked back to her flashcards. But she couldn’t focus. Not when this guy, this incredibly hot guy, was just casually taking off his pants beside her.

“Please go to sleep,” she told him after about thirty seconds of him just chilling on her roommate’s bed.

He turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. “What?”

“I can’t focus if you stay like that, and I can’t afford to not be focused right now.”

He didn’t answer right away, but a slow smirk formed on his lips. “Are you saying I’m too hot for you to concentrate on anything else?”

Oh, he was finding it funny, was he? Feyre put down her card and sat back up, careful to not let her nightgown slide too far up her legs. Still, she saw his eyes flicker to her thighs.

“That is exactly what I’m saying, Rhys.” She was surprised at her own voice, slow and more seductive than what she’d wanted it to be. But she rolled with it when she saw his jaw clench and his throat bob as he swallowed slowly.

She didn’t know what she was doing. She really needed to study. But he was going to spend the night beside her, and she wouldn’t focus before whatever she felt towards him was out of her system. So she got up slowly, aware of her every movement, and went to Mor’s bed. She saw Rhys’ eyes follow her, never looking away as she sat down beside him and laid a hand on his cheek.

“I really need to study, and I can’t do that with you just chilling half naked in the same room.”

So,” his voice came out incredibly rough, and she felt her core tighten at the sound, “what do you want to do about it?”

She smiled. “You tell me.”

And with those words, she lowered herself against him and captured his lips in hers. The kiss was slow at first, but she felt Rhys pull himself upright on the bed to slide a hand on her neck while the other landed on her knee.She herself let her hands wander into his hair, and she passed her tongue on his lower lip, an invitation that was immediately answered. She felt his hand move up her thigh, until it reached the rim of her nightgown, only to slowly move underneath it.

She wasn’t idle either, and moved her legs to straddle him, her hands moving down to his shoulders and chest, discovering his tattoos with light touches of her fingertips, and then exploring his belly in broader strokes, slowly making her way to his underpants.

But just when she was toying with the idea of sliding a hand down further, a loud ringtone interrupted them. She startled at the sound and pushed slightly away, Rhys mirroring her movements as his hands retracted from her body. For a few seconds, they just stayed there, catching their breath, Feyre still sitting onto his lap, her forehead touching his, unable to look away from his eyes. Then she took a glance at his phone. It was Mor calling. But Rhys didn’t seem to want to answer. They sat in silence for a moment, the only lights in the room the glow of Feyre’s night stand lamp and Rhysand’s phone, and finally the call ended, and the world was silent.

Feyre didn’t move. She was slowly starting to come back to her senses, and realizing how dumb it was to be losing precious time making out instead of working. But Rhysand’s fingertips were still brushing against her hips, and she would be damned if she didn’t want to resume kissing him.

But before she could act on her thoughts, another ringtone interrupted them. Her ringtone, and it was Mor calling her. She wasn’t the type of person to call without a good reason, and Feyre started to worry that something might be wrong. She awkwardly moved away from Rhysand and muttered:

“Better see if she’s alright.”

She saw him nod from the corner of her eyes, and rearranged her nightgown as she grabbed her phone. “Mor? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I went to Andromache’s place tonight. Listen, did my cousin make it back to the dorm okay? I tried calling him but he didn’t answer.”

Blushing at the thought of why Rhys hadn’t answered, Feyre struggled to find a believable excuse.

“Yes, he’s here. He’s… sleeping. I think his phone is on airplane mode or something? It didn’t ring.”

She saw Rhys chuckle and give her a thumbs up, and she smiled at him.

“That’s weird, it did ring on my side, though. Anyway, I’m glad he made it, I was worried! Good luck for your final tomorrow, Fey.”

God, her final. She needed to study. She hastily thanked Mor and hung up, to find Rhys looking at her, as if awaiting her decision.

“Rhys…” she trailed off, not really knowing what to say. Finally, she finished. “I really need to study for my final tomorrow.”

Oh God she was so lame, he was definitely going to laugh at her.

But he didn’t laugh, instead he smiled at her and said. “Of course. Do you need help with it?”

She declined, and awkwardly, slid under her covers to grab her flashcards and study them. Rhys also got into bed beside her, and bid her good night in a whisper.

***

She woke up the next day with her head buried in her cards.

Lost in sleep for a moment, she only recalled the events of the previous night after a few seconds, at the same time she smelled the sweet odor of chocolate coming from her nightstand. She opened her eyes and looked over at the other bed, but Rhysand was gone, as if he’d never been here.

But he had, as the hot cup of cocoa in front of her proved to her. Rising, she grabbed the cup and took a sip, surprised to find it at the right temperature and with exactly the right amount of sugar and cream. He had probably left mere minutes before she woke up, and she felt a bit hurt that he hadn’t told her anything.

That’s when she saw the note beside the cup.

Hope this will make up for disrupting your study schedule last night. God knows I don’t regret it! Sorry I had to go without saying goodbye, Mor was getting impatient and I didn’t want to wake you up.

Good luck for your exam :)

Call me, Rhys

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[secret-engima]

@hamelin-born

Since you have successfully convinced me to make my Fem!Titus an Atalanta x Clarus pairing everyone please picture-

-Atalanta being taller than her husband. Atalanta being stronger than her husband. Atalanta happily picking up her hubby bridal style and carting him off after Gladio says he wants a little sister because her stepson gets whatever he wants and the glaives are willing to babysit Gladio for the rest of the evening.

-Atalanta’s Glauca armor is very feral and feline in design, possibly because the scientist who designed it had a Thing for felines and femme fatales and possibly as a side-effect of Atalanta’s own brain on the adaptable suit processes. Anyway, suit is not as bulky, excess metal goes into long, flexible plating down her spine that can bristle like cat fur (and stab anyone trying to grab her from behind) and best of all a cat TAIL that is prehensile and very powerful and oh yea has a very pointy end so be prepared to be stabbed and crocodile whipped around if you dare attack her from behind while she’s using the suit.

-Please imagine Clarus’s heart doing all sorts of acrobatics the first time he sees Atalanta fighting in the armor, bounding from place to place like a freaking cat, grabbing enemies and flinging them with her tail while she swats aside another with her giant greatsword, elegant as a dancer and as subtle as a freaking earthquake. Please imagine the look on his face as he watches this woman wreak utter devastation and all he can say is a breathless little “wow” as he realizes this woman could probably break his spine without even trying.

-Please imagine Clarus and Atalanta doing combo maneuvers where he braces the flat of his sword and she uses it/him as a springboard to bound over the enemies heads and attack their flank, or Atalanta suddenly suiting up, grabbing Clarus and YEETING him into the enemy at top speed so his sword swing cuts through entire swaths of them like paper.

-Please imagine the look on Regis’s face when he realizes that Clarus, sensible, no-nonsense, is-the-sanity-and-impulse-control-of-the-king Clarus has fallen head over heels for this utter madwoman.

-Yes, that is Cid cackling like a lunatic in the background as he watches this entire thing unfold because he called this from the moment Clarus and Atalanta met and had a snark fight that devolved into an actual Brawl back when Reggie was just a wet behind the ears prince and Mors was still slumming on the throne.

-Also this is the song that created Atalanta. I have ZERO CLUE why because Rap is very not my thing in any way and I literally can’t even listen to the part from 2:10 to 2:40 because something about the music makes my ears screech so I end up skipping that part entirely. The rest of the song is epic tho, and Atalanta cheerfully kicked down my mental door and started kicking butt in time to this song so here we are I guess.

The other song that created Atalanta and made me realize that Atalanta was a fem!Titus specifically was this one:

Because apparently League of Legends makes GREAT music for creating OCs. Who knew.

[szopenhauer]

What type of friend are you?  funny mom friend so like... dad friend? XD 

Have you ever been friends with someone for longer than 7 years? nah

Do you have a family member you hate? could say so

Does your family accept who you are? it’s complicated

Have you ever puked in school or at work? luckily not

Do you hate puking or does it make you feel better? hate 

Have you ever coughed up blood? nope

Do you lie to your doctor? sometimes we all have to but nothing important

Have you ever been misdiagnosed? yup

Do you think you have an disorder but havent been properly diagnosed yet? that too

Is self diagnosing good or bad? depends

Do you think sex is overated? it is

Is it important for both genders to understand eachothers bodies? I’m not dating men, I don’t want to have a son and I am not a doctor so I don’t care about male bodies, sorry

If someone was a virgin and was raped, did they lose their virginity? ...

Have you ever dated someone more than twice your age? nooo

Have you ever been cut off by a bartender because you were too drunk? I don’t drink

Have you ever borrowed money from your mom & lied about why you needed it? I don’t think so

Have you ever dated someone just because they had money? no

Have you ever lied to your spouse about the money you spent shopping? it wasn’t a lie but I bend the truth a little 

Have you ever gone on a first date with no underwear? I might go without a bra but because I don’t wanna wear it and not because I might have sex 

Do you treat attractive people better than others who aren’t as attractive? nope

Are you more comfortable with friends that are less attractive than you? not less but not more as more attractive might make me feel insecure at times

Have you ever hated a job to the point that you tried to get fired? I would if they let me stay in few places but luckily they didn’t care much about me as their worker hahaha

Have you ever lied about your weight on a driver license? there is weight on a driving license? :o

Have you ever lied during a job interview? meh

Have you ever lied to your boss to get out of work? I exaggerated feeling sick once to not get a job in a horrible place if that counts

Have you ever lied under oath in court? I wouldn’t!

Have you ever bought alcohol for someone underage? I said NO

Have you ever switched tags on an item to pay less for it? I only took tag from an identical item, just different color, as someone tore it out before and I really wanted that particular color, so no

Have you taken any pics of yourself that you wont want your parents to see? umm... yeah ^^”

Did you ever tell your BF/GF you like their outfit when you really didn’t? there are different types of like - like as I would want to wear that myself and like as I enjoy it in general but also like it on particular person etc. 

Do you feel accepted by your BF/GF ’s family? could be worse lol

Do you lie about your age? what for if everybody think I’m younger anyway

Would you risk your life to save a total stranger? maybe

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? hell no

Have you ever snuck out of the house to go out with friends? not really

Have you ever shoplifted? no way

Have you ever done something because of peer pressure you are ashamed of? yup Have you ever been embarrassed to introduce your parents to anyone? omg

Have you ever held back a well deserved compliment because you were jealous? I don’t recall

Do you guilt people into giving you what you want? hope not, I try not to, it’s manipulative and I already am seen this way due to my BPD so... 

Would most ppl consider you better than average looking? pfft Would you prefer to have hot body or high IQ? good health

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? I’m ashamed to tell them that I don’t have a job 

Would you give up your car to save the planet? if I had one...

Are you more likely to believe a man or woman? woman :x

Has your credit card ever been declined? I don’t use a credit card

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? oh no...

Do you think your parents are too critical of you? my mother is

Ever blame a sibling for something you did wrong? I usually have to take the blame for her instead

Have you ever accepted credit for someone else’s work? just my alters lmfao

Did you ever buy something expensive,wear it once and return it? I didn’t, I have no money to buy and no heart to act like this either

Have you ever re-gifted something? shitload of times

Do you really care about saving the planet for future generations? not for future ppl, just for itself

Do you own anything from IKEA? not furniture 

What was the last task that you required the use of scissors for? I just dropped them and let them lay on the floor under the table because I am unable to reach ‘em

Look around the room and name any item that’s grey. stuffed bad from Biedronka that I got on a flea market

Do you know what any of your close friends did yesterday afternoon? me and M. been spending time together while my parents were at home

Can you recall the last time you woke up in a bad mood? Why was that? I always do?...

Who was the last person to send you a message with a heart emoji? my gf obviously

Does your hometown have many good bookshops? none

What would be your typical outfit for a party? I don’t attend parties 

If your girlfriend/​​boyfriend broke up with you tonight, what would you do? oh...

last dream you had: K. 3D printed or smth almost identical album as the ones I had as a baby and her and my current partner gave it to me as a gift :3

do you think a lot of people think bad things about you? I aware of that

is your best friend pissing you off at this exact moment? I informed my father that I dropped scissors and now as I picked them up he asked me when and how they ended up there while I told him about it few minutes ago - I was more worried than annoyed tbh

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? she’s taking a nap

Sex ruins relationships, right? it can happen

Last person to stand up for you? hmm...

The last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in front of them? I lost count which is weird because I cry in front of my family members only (not even my grandma until I was a baby), I know that sometimes I cry in public but because I don’t give a fuck about strangers as much as I used to, close ones in the other hand... Nat hates the most when someone sees him so vulnerable

Something good going to happen tomorrow? doubt it

The last person you kissed hates you. Why? would have reasons

What do you usually do when the clock turns 11:11? it’s a secret you can unlock in a very high level of our relationship

Do you like your cell phone? it’s ok

So, what if you married the last person you kissed? we’re engaged so that dream ain’t that unreal

Have you ever had a really big fight with a best friend? uh oh

Do you plan on moving out within the next year? I wish

What are you listening to at the moment? mom and dad talking <rolling my eyes>

Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? or never

What’s your favorite high school memory? I have a bunch of those

Do you wish you had more money? absolutely

Team Jacob or Team Edward? team hate Twilight

Do you have a problem with bisexual, gay, or bicurious people? with bicurious maybe, definitely not gay

Have you ever held hands with the opposite sex? I have

Are you a patient person? weirdly unpatient Do you think you are a good person? am not

Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? ewww

Is there a difference between the word ‘best friend’ and ‘friend’? there is 

How was your week? rollerclaster XD

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? usually

When was the last time you cried? recently

What letter is the song you’re listening to under? M if vocalist/band B if title of the song

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s I guess

Do your socks say anything on them? I have no socks with anything said on them

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. BBC

Gray or Grey? grey

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? I won’t

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? yasss, it was fine

How many weddings have you been to? less than 5

When you smile, are you confident? I am not

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? of course

Was the weather beautiful today? it’s cold

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? I don’t own a fan Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? walls? orange 

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? why not whole

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I dislike it

Does/Did your school have a uniform? middle school only and that was a great idea

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? not gonna

What’s your favorite thing to do? nothing

If your house was haunted, what would you do? depends

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? slow internet

Are you a fast or slow walker? which alter? :P

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? I must buy belt for Nat

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? no comment

What age do you look forward to reaching? I live on borrowed air...

What exercise do you hate the most? awkward ones

Do you know anyone that has a gecko as a pet? no

What color shirt is your mom wearing today? she’s wearing a striped pajama and light blue sweater atm

Does any part of your body hurt right now? mor than one

Do you like Greek Mythology? not a fan

When was the last time you had Pepsi? ages ago

What was the last question you answered, not on surveys? it was more an order than a question coming from my mom 

Do you own anything Polo? used to

Do you know anyone with exaggeratedly big muscles? neighbor

What is your favorite endangered animal? are elephants still endangered?

Do you like to dance? kinda, from time to time Who was the last person who screamed your name? mom’s calling me again, grrr...

Which underwater creature do you find the most badass? what do you mean?

How do you usually find out what the weather will be like for the next week? someone tells me, I ignore them, they were wrong all along

Why have/haven’t you joined Twitter? I left as it was boring and irritating Are you good at rhyming? but don’t like to rhyme

When’s the last time you were woken up in an obnoxious way? lately it’s common

Why do you/don’t you enjoy horror movies? they’re disgusting and pointless

Do you have any celebrity’s perfume? I don’t use perfume

How well do you do at Scrabble? in polish or english?

Who is your favorite Scooby-Doo character? Velma I suppose

Have you ever played or been interested in playing World Of Warcraft? been interested, liked the movie

What kind of cake/other dessert treat did you have for your last birthday? nothing?

Who do you think does the best job at cartoon voiceovers? Jarosław Boberek 

Does your dad wear a watch all the time? years ago frequently

How much ice cream do you think you’d be able to eat before you got sick? only a bit

Do you know anybody under 40 with grey hair? I have some myself

Do you think you have the potential to be a good stalker? oh well...

Why did you read the last book that you read? I watched film and heard it has a different ending so wanted to check it out

Have you ever cross-dressed? clothes have no gender but I drew mustaches and such 

Which sport are you the best at playing? unihokej/floorball or however it’s called

Do you know anyone who has gotten pregnant despite using contraception? possibly

What would you do if you were in that situation? I’m an asexual and I’m into girls

Are you planning on buying a house in the near future? not possible

Do you prefer on-campus classes or online classes? online

What was your favorite family vacation you went on as a kid? personal

What’s something about you that others might find unpleasant or off-putting? my skin for example (not color)

What gaming consoles do you own? I only play PC and android 

Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? been to ER few times

Do you know any lesbian couples? I’m in one ;)

Have you ever lived in an apartment building?  just when I was staying with my grandmother

What was the last topic you asked someone for their opinion or advice on? not sure which was last

Is your house visible on Google Street View?- barely

What’s the largest thing you currently have in your refrigerator? *shrug*

Do you know anyone who has never had a pet? I believe

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? no thx

Would you take the 3 minute beatdown to be in a gang? neither Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? not every single time, it’s impossible!

Does it make you uncomfortable when you receive a compliment? sorta, I think they’re lying/want something or make fun of me (even if just slightly teasing for fun)

When you are home alone at night and hear strange noises, are you afraid someone is going to break in? I’m more “ghost” type of person hahaha

Do you wake up cranky? mhm

What is on your wrists right now? sleeves

Are you a beach, country, or city person? country or small town

Are you an official couple with the last person you kissed? we are 

What’s the greatest thing that happened to you today? ex - I got a gift and found a shirt for Nat and myself :3

How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids? -

Are you waiting for something? food

Something you do a lot? suffer

How many chances do you tend to give people before enough is enough? it’s not about the amount

What’s a fact about the last person you kissed? she likes hugs

How long have you liked the person you like? it’s a long story 

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed? not our last kiss

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? I worry

Have you ever given your ALL to someone who walked away?

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? we kissed 

Are you one of those people who are always cold? not always but often

Do you tend to waste a lot of money? I still feel like it even tho I don’t, I thrift often but spend little for those trinkets

Did you sing at all today? może coś nuciłam, nie pamiętam, w headspace?

Would you rather be able to control the weather or control traffic? weather

Do you own any articles of clothing with skulls on it? gave it away to John

Are you faster at text messaging or typing on the computer? typing on the computer

In your opinion which is the stronger emotion: love or hate? hate

Tongue piercings - cute or trashy? trashy

When it comes to jeans: skinny, flared or boot cut? skinny

Would you rather be a star ballerina or a star break dancer? none

They say diamonds are a girls best friend; what do you say? I don’t care for diamonds

Has anybody ever told somebody one of your secrets? plenty of times

Do you get on better with funny or serious people? smth in between

Do you have mood swings around the time of the month? I don’t need period to have mood swings, it’s stereotypical!

Have your friends met the last person you kissed? aha

What if you got stuck in a lift with the last person who Facebook messaged you? we would end up having sex? jk

When/where did your last hug take place? today

Have your parents ever told you about their love lives, and any previous relationships they had before they met? kind of

Do you and your friends have any inside jokes? and with family 

When you listen to music, do you ever find that the songs affect your moods and change how you feel? no shit Sherlock!

What’s one thing about today that you didn’t like? don’t wanna talk about all that

Who is the last person that you said i love you to, besides family members? my fiancee

Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? done

Do you still talk to the first person you kissed? we’re together again

Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? :D

What’s a cuss word you use often? there’s a whole list

Who’s the last guy you texted? dad

Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? this question...

Do you remember the first conversation you had with the person you have feelings for? I remember how we met

Do you believe that people talk about you behind your back? ha!

If you had twins, would you give them rhyming names? yuk

What are you listening to? Tame Impala - Let It Happen

Did you do something mean to someone today? she deserved it!

Is there anyone that you wish was IN your life who used to be? babcia...

Give us a lyric from a song you’re listening to: The truth of it is it doesn’t get better than this

Is your birthday in less than 6 months? whoops

What brings out the worst in you? better not say that out loud

How’re you feeling right now? bad

Are you afraid of the future? very

Do you believe in true love? I’m trying

Do you believe that every one has a soul-mate? not everybody

Was today a good day? should be better

What woke you up this morning? woke up on my own

Do you look people in the eye when you talk to them? I don’t 

Have you ever played naked twister? wut...

Is your hair longer than your shoulders? not yet and don’t plan to keep it that long

Would you get in trouble if you came home drunk? that would be a shock to my family (and to me)

Do you ever think about things and start to worry? 100% of the time

Are you one to get annoyed easily? that me!

Is the last person you kissed yours? we don’t own ppl...

Was it a boy or a girl to text you first today? girl

Are you scared of spiders? am not

Do you hate the last boy who talked to you? I love my parent

Do you tend to make things complicated? not on purpose

Have you ever gotten to the point where you’ve said “I’m done trying”? gqe1gIQASGCK...

Do you think things will change in the next few months? I’m afraid for worse 

Do you like when people play with your hair? it’s strange

What are you wearing right now? bluzę w czarne i białe paski, zieloną bluzkę z długimi rękawami i szare legginsy z niebieskim wzorkiem

Ever feel like you have been replaced? more than once

Would you rather write a paper or give a speech? write

Are you lying to yourself about something? thx a lot for this ask...

Is the person you last texted single? she’s with me

Do you think any of your exes will eventually want to be with you again? tha hell

If you could move away, no questions asked, where would you move to? just my own apartment

Which do you prefer, relationship or a one-night-stand? relationship

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: listen before i go

Link to song: listen before i go by Billie Eilish

Synopsis: If you know this song, you know how Feyre's feeling right now.

Song of the chapter: listen before i go by Billie Eilish Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4z1O3miesI

TW: Suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation and suicidal intentions. Please, if you are feeling suicidal or aren't comfortable reading these situations, do not read this chapter. You are never alone. You are loved, and you are cared for. Here are some helplines if you are ever feeling suicidal (both available 24/7/365):

US: 1-800-273-8255 Suicide Crisis Hotline Canada: 1-833-456-4566 Suicide Prevention and Support Canada

Ao3 Link

Chapter 15: listen before i go

Rhys

Prythian, I’d decided, was beautiful no matter the weather. Sun, rain, snow—I loved it all. 

The Sidra glowed no matter the weather as I cruised down the city’s main artery street, parallel to the river where people walked lazily beside the careening stream. Though the rain and overcast skies usually chased many into their homes, today had been warmer than previous weeks, and my legs ached to be back out on the path for a quick morning jog, like I used to do every morning. Life and work had seemed to cut into every waking moment, including the time I dedicated to exercise—it’d shown in my body composition. Eating like shit also didn’t help, but my current levels of stress always begged me to break into a bag of chips or eat the office cupcakes that were brought up to the executive floor every few days. I needed to get back to the gym, to get exercising, but any time not spent working or helping Feyre seemed wasteful and selfish.

Cassian had to stay later this afternoon, and probably further into the evening because of an issue that arose with Night Corp’s security team. Some of our agents had grown restless in the recent absence of management since Cassian was spending so much time tracking Tamlin and Lucien instead of his usual dealings. He held an emergency meeting to address their questions and concerns, which would probably extend far longer than needed. I didn’t want to leave Feyre alone, and besides, I thought it I’d spent enough damn time in that stupid office chair this week to deserve a night of quiet peace.

The condo complex, though tall and large in its occupancy, was perfect for Cassian. Spacious, enough for him and his entire ego to fit into, but minimalist in the sense that he had only the bare necessities: place to sleep, eat and shower. Nothing compared to Mor’s complex that offered an indoor gym, rooftop pool and meal plan services from a five-star chef. But my cousin deserved every morsel of glamour and luxury she wanted after the life she’d come from.

The elevator opened onto Cassian’s floor, and my heart leapt up into my chest when I saw his door at the end of the corridor. I hated the feeling in my chest, the one that kept pounding at me whenever I knew I was near her. It was sickening, the emotions stirring up within me—I could barely harness them in whenever she was in close proximity. The fluttering, the pounding of my heart, they were dangerous. So very dangerous, and all I could do was force them down as best as I could as I pulled my keys out and opened the condo door.

“Feyre?” I called out after shutting the door quietly behind me and locking the door. Silence was all I was met with. The lights in the kitchen were on, and as I slipped out of my shoes, wandering further into the house, so were the lights in her room. Quickly, I bounded up the steps to see where she might’ve been, but a quick examination of the guest room told me she wasn’t there. The bathroom was also vacant, and Cassian’s door was closed, lights off.

Unease spread within me. She wouldn’t have left. I didn’t think she would, anyway, unless she’d gone out with Cassian this morning without telling me. My fingers crept into my pocket and grabbed my phone, ready to call my brother as panic began to arise. I pounded down the stairs once more and did a once-over of the living space to confirm once again that she was gone.

I would’ve seen the slender figure, draped in a dark sweater, on the balcony if today were sunny. If whatever mysterious forces that controlled the weather had woken up this morning and decided to bathe my world in sunshine, I would’ve seen Feyre immediately, sitting on the ledge of the balcony, looking down at the city below her.

Waiting. For what, I didn’t know. But she was waiting, and the way her shoulders were slumped, the way she seemed like Atlas himself with the weight of the world on her back, told me that there was only one reason.

I’d never known fear like this as I realized she was about to jump.

My feet moved slowly. Too slowly, as if they weren’t sure if this was another one of my fucked-up nightmares, or that she was indeed sitting there, ready to leap at any moment.

I slid open the patio door. Rain fell on my face, droplets wetting my lips.

“Feyre?”

Her fingers curled tighter around the cement lip she clutched. Her knuckles were white, her clothes soaked, but she didn’t turn. Her gaze remained fixed on the ground below her.

“You really shouldn’t scare someone on a ledge fifty storeys up.”

Some sick part of me wanted to laugh. Because I knew exactly what that dry, fucked-up cynical humour was. The one born of a darkness so deep there was no way to express it but with self-deprecation.

Heart pounding furiously across my body, I forced myself to focus, to think straight. If she pushed off too quickly, I wouldn't be able to grab hold of her. If I got too close, she'd get scared and do it anyway. “What are you doing, Feyre?”

She scoffed. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Only if it helps you,” I replied, trying to keep the cool, nonchalant tone to my voice. If I panicked, then she would panic and do something stupid, which I could never let happen.

“Tell me what you're feeling right now. I want to try and help you.”

Please, I whispered over and over in my mind, swear pouring down my back, please don't do this. Please don't leave me. Please don't do this to me.

Feyre

Over and over, I asked myself how I got here. How at this moment, everything had gone wrong before it, so drastically that I was sitting up here on a roof, waiting for the moment to strike that I'd finally push off.

I knew how I got here. I knew every curve and crevice of my life's story, every twist and malicious turn it'd taken to make my path so gloriously fucked up.

Admitting failure is the most difficult of them all because you simply aren't enough. Your efforts, your time, energy and passion are all for naught, and you're left with nothing but this big ... void.

It's hard to describe how that feeling comes and goes. I've called it failure to thrive. The person I've become was not enough to keep going.

“Tell what you’re feeling right now. I want to try and help you.”

Help me. Was there anything at this point that could help me? Fix me? Or was this ledge, this fall, all I had left?

Slowly, carefully, I let out a shaky exhale. The wind and rain whipped at my face, but I couldn’t pull my hand away from the ledge, lest I wanted to lose my balance and have it all end right then and there.

“I…” A gust of wind flew over, making me clutch the ledge tighter, “I don’t feel anything anymore, Rhys. It’s like I’m already gone.”

“Why do you say that?”

A sob bubbled up within my chest. I pushed it down, took another quick, shallow breath. “There’s nothing left for me, here. My life’s over. Whatever’s left of it, anyway.”

“Feyre, you just went through an extremely traumatic experience. It’s completely normal to feel this way. That doesn’t mean your life is over. Just because you left him doesn’t mean your life is over.”

“He came back today, Rhys, while you were gone. Him and Lucien. They know where I am, they know how to find me.” I let out a small, mad laugh. “He’ll never stop. Not until I’m right back where I was, dying slowly before my very eyes. May as well finish the job while I can, right?”

“He was here? At the apartment?”

I nodded, slowly. Unfeeling. The cold seeped into my bones, through my clothes, but I couldn’t even feel that anymore. It was like my body had already died and all the warmth leeched from my flesh.

“Did you speak with him?”

“No. I just heard him through the door. He knows I’m here. How he found me…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. But it’s not going to change, Rhys. I am stuck in this forever.”

“You’re never stuck. You’re never trapped. There’s always another way out, you’re just not thinking clearly right now.” I could hear his voice getting closer, and it made my muscles clench tighter. Too close and it would be over. “Feyre, you’re too focused in on the situation. Everything is happening so quickly, and you’ve barely had time to recover. You need to zoom out. Focus on the bigger picture.”

“I don’t think you understand, Rhys,” I countered quietly, and I didn’t care that my voice began to waver, I didn’t care that there were tears blending in with the raindrops on my cheeks, and I didn’t care that if I pushed off this fucking building that everything would be over.

My voice was riddled with uncertainty and nervousness, but I shakily said, “I, um, read this thing once in a book. How your life gets to a point where it’s all too much, and you…” I swallowed, throat dry, eyes wide, “you don’t know what to do? It’s like being an apartment building, high up in the sky, and everything’s on fire. It’s blocking your door, your only exit. The only other viable option is to jump down and hope you survive.

“You’re standing there, staring at the flames,” I said, voice trembling, “and you’re trying to weigh which is worse: the flames or the fall?”

Rhys remained quiet behind me. I took another deep breath.

“The flames or the fall?” I repeated. “It’s not that I want to jump down. It’s that I’m so terrified of the flames that I don’t know what to do. And you’ll never understand that, Rhys, until you’ve seen the flames. Until you’ve felt how they burn. Only when you’ve felt that pure terror that I am feeling right now will you ever understand why I need to do this.”

“Feyre,” Rhys wondered, his voice too close for comfort, “why did you hold on for so long?”

“What?”

“During everything that you went through, all that’s happened over the course of your life, why did you hold on?”

My mind reeled while trying to find a viable answer, a possible counter-argument, but all I was left with was the cold, whipping wind tearing at my clothes.

I said quietly, “Because I thought eventually something would change. That it would get better.”

“What happened this time? What’s happening right now?”

As more rain poured down upon me, my eyes closed, my shoulders slumped after being clenched for so long.

“I’ve been holding on to scraps of hope my entire life. Every day it just seems to be getting worse and worse, like I’m stuck in this constant never-ending cycle of misery. I can’t—“ I choked on a sharp intake of breath as my heart began to pound louder in my chest, and my lungs heaved with the burden of being alive, “I can’t feel anymore, Rhys. I don’t feel anything, I destroy everything that surrounds me, and I’m—” my voice broke, and I choked out a sob, composure finally crumbling after days of emptiness.

Darkness reigned around my mind; around my heart. For so long there’d been that sliver of light to keep guiding me forward, like the doors sealing me shut in my prison were cleaved just the slightest bit to keep me going.

Now they’d shut in on me completely. Teasing me, leading me along, making me sacrifice my flesh and blood and tears, in the hope that that stupid fucking light would some day welcome me home.

But that day never came. And now…

“I’m just so tired.”

My head dipped forward, and for a second, I let go.

But I knew there was a warm presence just behind me, fingers clutching my body before it had the chance to fall.

“I know,” Rhys assured me, “I know, darling.”

Then his arms wrapped around my waist, and I didn’t protest as he gently carried me off the concrete ledge, and pulled me into his arms.

*

We both got out of our drenched clothes. There was a trail of water leading from the patio up to both bedrooms that Rhys was currently wiping down with a towel. His hair was unkempt and shaggy, dangling around his head, and through the loose grey t-shirt I could see the movement of every muscle in his back and arms.

The adrenaline had faded, and I was back to that numbness, that apathy, that stuck to me like a second skin.

Once Rhys finally got all the water, right to both bedroom doors, he tossed it in the bathroom and closed the door.

We both stood there in the dimly lit hallway, staring at each other. I couldn’t read his face: not since we’d gotten in from the balcony. It was completely neutral, his lips and mouth forming a flat line. But his eyes gave him away, with the way they scanned my face in an unmistakable concerned manner.

“Let’s go for a drive, Feyre. Get out of the house for a bit.”

The offer surprised me, and though my bed sounded mighty appealing right now, I wanted to get out of here. I wanted to get as far away from that entire sequence of events as I possibly could.

Prythian was dark tonight, and clouds hung low with only the bright city lights shining through them, creating a silvery mist shimmering over the skyline. I leaned my head against the window, looking out to the Sidra ever flowing with its golden gleam. Rhys was quiet, and soft music played in the car that thrummed quietly through the slowly emptying streets. The closer we got to Spring Corp, though, the more the knot in my chest tightened once more. Rhys, ever the perceptive person he was, noticed and began taking alternative streets.

Breaking the silence, he said, “You can stay at my place if you want, Feyre. When we get back, we’ll pack your stuff up if you’re not comfortable there anymore.”

“He’ll still find me, Rhys,” I mentioned quietly. “He’s always following me, always watching me. Even when we were together he’d have people follow me.”

Silence. Then, “Feyre, you have an iPhone, right?”

I paused at the completely unrelated remark then said, “Yes.”

“Guessing you have iCloud. And a shared account with Tamlin.”

My eyes closed, and I swore under my breath. He’d been tracking me through my phone. By the Gods, he could know where I was right now.

I immediately fished it out of my back pocket, and after a few swipes deleted his account off my phone completely. How Rhys had figured it out, I didn’t know, but some of the tension released from my muscles, and I could relax a little more into my seat.

A few more minutes passed by until we began nearing a large complex. When I saw the “H” symbol, my brows furrowed. When Rhys pulled into the parking lot, my head whipped to meet his gaze.

“Why are we here? Did somebody get hurt?”

“Everybody’s fine, Feyre.” He said calmly, quietly. Nonetheless, a ball of worry had formed in my stomach, but Rhys’s gaze remained impassive. He pulled into a spot nearest to the emergency doors, put the car in park, then turned to me.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything, but I’m giving you two choices from which I strongly recommend you pick one. The first is to come with me into the emergency and let them check you in on a seventy two hour hold—”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I realized what he was suggesting. Incredulous and royally pissed, I yelled, “No, Rhys! No!”

“It’s seventy-two hours. They watch you, evaluate you, try to triage your case and give you an action plan with follow-ups so we can try to help you through everything you’re feeling right now.”

The indignant tears flowing from my eyes trailed down my cheeks and my neck, to my chest. Resentment swelled in my chest, and I couldn’t even look at Rhys as I ground out, “And what’s the second option?”

“I give you my private psychologist’s number and watch you call her to make an appointment in her next available slot. I personally prefer option one, but it’s your choice Feyre.”

I rested my head against the car window, and tried to quell the sobs threatening to rise within me once more. This was all too much too fast. All of it. It was like my senses were overloaded and shocked, unable to process the events that unrolled over the past few weeks. The audacity Rhys had to pretend like he could just exercise that much control over my life was infuriating. Forcing me to make decisions about my life? My health? Who did he think he was?

And I was still so, so tired. I just wanted to recline in this chair and let my body go numb again.

“Feyre,” he said, but I ignored him, slipping into my own bottomless abyss never to resurface. He said my name a few more times, but I ignored him.

“Look at me,” Rhys pleaded, and the desperation in his voice made my eyes open, and my body turn so I was facing him. There he was, turned in his seat, one hand clasped on the wheel and the other on the compartment between us. His eyes were bleeding with worry and sorrow. I swallowed hard at the look, unable to take my eyes off of his.

“I’m not trying to force you into anything. I don’t want to control you or make you do something that you don’t want to do. But I…” he trailed off, and looked away for a moment into the distance where the ‘EMERGENCY’ sign glowed a bright red amidst the dark parking lot. “What happened today is not something you can brush off or ignore. I couldn’t live with myself if I brushed it off or ignored it. You need help, Feyre.”

Wet desperation streaked down my burning cheeks.

“You need help, and I want to help you, but I can’t do it alone. I don’t have the skills or education to be able to personally help you through this. But I can do everything in my capabilities to ensure that you do have the necessary people to care for you.”

More silence. I still couldn’t face him, couldn’t respond. I didn’t know how.

“Feyre.”

Slowly, so slowly, I inched my gaze towards his. Rhys reached between us and extended his hand.

“You’re not alone in this. I am here, we’re all here, for you.”

There was a cleaving, a crack in my chest, as my trembling fingers reached out and curled around his.

“What’s the number?” I croaked as I fished my phone back from where I’d stored it in the dash.

When it went through, I passed the phone to Rhys. The call was long, and Rhys’s soothing voice had filled the car for nearly twenty minutes trying to explain my situation. He’d initially put me on the phone to ensure that I consented to him sharing my private information. When the phone was passed to me after fifteen minutes of back and forth, I swallowed hard and said, “Hello?”

“Hi Feyre. This is doctor Suriel. Rhysand was telling me about your situation and I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“Um, I’m, uh, better than before.”

“That’s great. I know these are difficult questions, especially since we’re doing this over the phone, but I want to ensure that you’re safe until we meet on Monday.”

“Alright.”

“Feyre, are you still feeling suicidal?”

The question felt so loud in the small space. Rhys was looking away, out the window, and my cheeks heated with embarrassment as I mumbled, “Yes.”

“Do you feel unsafe, like you’re going to harm yourself or others?”

I bit my cheek. “Not right now.”

“But possibly if you were in a different location?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I know you have Rhysand with you. Do you trust this person?”

My stomach twisted with unease as my eyes darted to the man in the driver’s seat. After a moment, I said, “Yes.”

“Alright. My recommendation Feyre would be to check into the emergency room if you’re feeling suicidal. But if you believe that you can make it through the weekend and wait until Monday, and I know that you have somebody with you that you can trust, then I feel comfortable with you going home.”

“Okay,” I said, unsure of what else to say. I’d never spoken to a psychologist or mental health worker. It was oddly… comforting, knowing that there was somebody out there thinking it crucial I stay safe over the weekend; that I was looked after.

“If you don’t have any questions for me, Feyre, then you can pass me back to Rhys.”

“Okay.” I didn’t trust myself saying anything else, not as my throat closed up, and my eyes welled with a new wave of tears.

Rhys spoke for a few minutes longer, then set his phone back into the holster before starting the car back up and setting out to exit the parking lot. I kept staring straight ahead, unable to stop the stream of emotion on my face.

I realized that the cleave in my chest, the sliver that’d opened up within me, was that same teasing ray of light coming to settle back within me.

It’d sparked to life the moment Rhys had reached his hand out to me.

[emdythewriter]

A new light | chapter one (Elriel)

Summary:

Azriel Mystic has been in live with his best friend since the moment he met her three years ago. Elain Archeron has been in love with her best friend since the day she moved into his apartment building three years ago. However neither of them have told the other about their feelings. They go through a routine every single day which includes pushing their feelings to the back burner. Azriel is starting to lose his patience though, he’s done waiting and is ready to make a move. Elain however is scared to lose her best friend.

Tiny Dancer interrupted Azriel’s peaceful dream that morning, cutting off the dream he did not want to leave. It was right in the middle flirting with Elain--his best friend--when the classic Elton John song cut through his words. Grumbling he reached out for his phone, answering it without even looking at the caller ID. He knew exactly who was calling him for two reasons. One it was the way he woke up every morning for work because he never set and alarm, and two there was only one person he knew that loved Elton John more than anything.

“I was having a good dream,” Azriel answered the phone in his morning rasp. Elain’s soft chuckle came through the phone along with the slamming of cabinets as she moved around her kitchen.

“Too bad we have to get to work,” Elain answered him and he knew by the sound of her voice she was smiling. Both of them worked as personal assistants, Azriel to his friend Rhys in his law firm and Elain for an interior design company. Both buildings were on opposite sides of the street from the other so the pair of friends tended to walk or take a cab to the office.

“I’ll call in sick,” Azriel said already sitting up and pushing his blankets off his body. He held his phone between his ear and shoulder as he moved around the room to get ready. Lucky for him he had decided on showering the night before after a long night out with his brothers, plus it was casual business attire for him most of the time minus court days.

“Rhys will never let you,” Elain said on the other end.

“Fake it until I make it.”

“You’ll never make it,” Elain said jokingly. Azriel laughed as he pulled out a clean pair of dress pants and a collared shirt from his closet.

“Isn’t my best friend supposed to believe in me at all times?” He teased as he wiggled his way into his pants, still managing to hold the phone in place.

“I do believe in you,” Elain said and he knew there was a “but” coming based off her hesitation. “I also know Rhys and as good as you at getting information your boss is better.” Azriel rolled his eyes even though he knew what she was saying was the truth. He had earned himself the name of “spymaster” among the law firm but it wouldn’t matter when going against his brother. Rhys had a way of knowing every little thing before everyone else, it's what made his such a sought after lawyer.

“Whatever I’ll meet you downstairs in two minutes,” Azriel hung up and finished getting dressed. Another thing about the two of them was that they lived two floors apart in the same building of their apartment complex. It was actually how they met and became friends three years ago.

They were moving in on the same day. Her boyfriend at the time was helping her move everything in while she stood back and directed him. Azriel had been walking up a flight of stairs when he caught them. Elain was smiling and happy while the boyfriend with the red hair groaned and complained the whole time. He thought it was quite comical and told Elain this when they officially met the next day.

Azriel grabbed his keys off the hook by the door. Then stuffed his wallet and phone into his pockets as he headed out of the apartment and downstairs to where Elain waited. She was wearing another sundress today. This one was a bright yellow with little daisies and butterflies spotted all over. The dress was longer than her other ones, ending just below her knee. Her sleeves were ruffled and the dress was a v-neck cut, at the center she wore the necklace she never took off.

The charm on the gold chain was a bouquet of pink lilies tied by a white bow. Azriel had gotten the necklace for the year they met as a christmas present. Since the day Elain had opened the small box and asked him to put it around her neck she had not taken it off. Azriel smiled now just thinking about the memory as he wrapped an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

“Ready for the office?” He asked smiling down at her. She had to lean back so she could return the smile given the more than a few inches height difference between them.

“Is it bad we haven’t even left but I already wish we were coming home?” Elain asked as they began their trek down the sidewalk. The office building were a few blocks from where they lived and unless it was raining or snowing the duo always walked.

“Just a few more months and then you’ll have enough saved to open your shop,” Azriel said rubbing her shoulders in comfort. The only reason Elain had taken the job she knew she would hate was because of the money. By working with the company as long as she had and saving as much as possible she would have enough to open her business at the beginning of next spring. Elain had told Az about her dream to own a florist shop and considering how Velaris was a hot spot for weddings there would be no shortage of income.

“I think those months are during into years,” she complained as she rested her head against her friend’s shoulder.

“Years are turning into decades and decades into centuries, I’ve heard this before Elle.” She smiled as Azriel recited her go to verse of complaining. He always thought it was cute the way Elain moaned and groaned when she was unhappy, but deep down she knew he was already putting a plan together in order to cheer her up.

“Do I really complain that often that you’ve memorized it,” she was trying to sound embarrassed but truthfully Elain loved that he paid such close attention to her emotions and movements.

“You complain about your job everyday you have to go, of course I know it,” Az said like it was that obvious and considering she knew he was stating a fact she supposed it was.

“I’ll just find something new to complain about then,” Elain shrugged.

“How about we discuss something more fun.”

“Like what?”

“What show do you want to binge next now that we’ve finished Lucifer?” This was a much better topic for discussion and Elain found herself sad she hadn’t thought of it before. She hummed in thought as they reached a corner and waited for the white walking man to appear.

“Feyre told me she talked Rhys into watching Outlander with her now that it’s on Netflix,” Elain suggested remembering how her future brother-in-law was telling her about his new competition, Jamie Fraser.

“Is that the one where they’re in Scotland and she travels back in time a few centuries?” Azriel asked a puzzled look on his face like he was trying to decipher other shows in his head.

“Yeah it’s supposed to be amazing,” Elain said but she had already tried the first episode after she left her sister’s house the other night. She fell asleep halfway through the first episode and couldn’t bring herself to try again.

“How about The Flash? Cassian said a new season was just added,” Azriel countered reading her features and knowing her heart wasn’t really in the show she thought of.

“The Last Kingdom? It’s historical and full of action which is something we both love. Plus Mor has binged it a hundred times and is really pushing me to watch it.”

“Sounds perfect.” Their conversation halted as they reached the front door to the interior design company Elain worked for.

“Guess this is me,” Elain said softly really wishing she didn’t have to go through the gates of hell again. It was only Monday too.

“Keep your head up and start the timer I set on your phone so you know when to meet me for lunch,” Elain laughed at the last part feeling her chest lift slightly. Azriel always set a timer everyday so neither of them missed their lunch dates. They weren’t actually dates but Elain referred to them as nothing else but that in her head.

“Where shall we go today?” Elain asked wanting to stall the inevitable a little longer. They still had a few minutes before they needed to walk into the office anyways.

“Rita’s, I have to meet Rhys around the corner afterwards so it’ll be easier on me,” Azriel shrugged and she was one hundred percent fine with the choice. Rita’s was a bar and grill that her whole family and all her friends were obsessed with, they went every Tuesday night for trivia.

“You know I’m always down for that,” Elain smiled before looking down at her watch and realizing she needed to leave. “I have to go so wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Azriel told her before turning and heading across the street to the law firm. She watched him go with a bright smile on her face. The moment his figure disappeared through the glass doors she sighed and turned on her heel, heading into her own place of work. Elain really wished it was next spring already.

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