faerietothe-otherside

[faerietothe-otherside]

Rangi sometimes hated how well Song could read her. How well he knew to use silence as a tool and not just a moment. She looked down at her hands. "I think we both know that shit's not real," she mumbled. Maybe she'd believed in it before, but she didn't know what believed now. She wished it was that easy, that simple. She met his eyes a moment. "You deserve something good, too, you know."

Rangi let half her mouth quirk up in a little smirk as she said, "Not like I'd have to try hard."

Still, she didn't think any of it really mattered. "Then let them think that. I mean, you can be an asshole, sure, but you're not a villain." She was sure that she was the villain in at least one person's story, too. That was kind of how life went, wasn't it? That there were two sides to each story? She smiled, somehow. Despite it all, and looked over at him when he did the same. She had to swallow a little. "What? You don't believe in miracles?"

He let her words hang there for a moment, his eyes fixed on her with that kind of stillness that made silence feel intentional. “You deserve the kind of love that doesn’t ask you to earn it,” he said finally, voice low. “The kind that just is.”

His gaze flicked to hers, just for a second, then back down again as his shoulders lifted and fell. “You might not think you deserve anything good, but I’ve seen you fight to stay standing when most people would’ve folded. That’s not nothing, Rangi.”

Only at her next words, the corner of his lips lifted into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he let out a light scoff. "What for? You planning on trying to seduce me one day or something?" He teased, though his words fell into the eased silence once more as the conversation shifted again. "Maybe so, but that doesn't mean that I don't often get painted as the villain in their stories." Not that he exactly minded. People could think what they wanted about him. He was plenty used to being a disappointment at this point. "Well, would you look at that. Miracles really do happen," He teased back. His shoulder lightly brushing up against hers as he turned to face her once more.

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It was still a choice, though, Rangi thought. A bad choice, sure, but a choice. She didn't say that. She wished she had Efe's-- well, not optimism exactly, but something like it. His determination. His loyalty. His drive. His compassion. She was none of those things. She didn't know how to be any of those things, either. "I don't know," Rangi admitted quietly, because she didn't know. She hadn't even really considered what it would mean.

She really, really did want to believe him. She wanted to believe everyone who told her that, but they didn't see what she did. They didn't know what she did. All the death, all the pain. Even if it wasn't them, it would be someone they knew. Rangi just hurt them. It was all she could do. "I don't think that's really...true for me." She didn't think anyone's life was better with her in it. Her parents' certainly hadn't been. Mason's hadn't been.

"It's not a real choice. Because what is it? We give up? What does that solve?" Efe grit his teeth. No, no, he thought, they had to keep fighting. There was simply no alternative in his mind. His parents had settled in this town once and made that choice for him, but, he, growing more and more into them each and every day, continued to make it. He stood by Lunar Cove because it was the right thing to do. There were options: he could flee. Hell, he could have tried to joined the hunters himself. But he would never do those things; they were impossibilities. And so, there was no choice; there was only another day.

"I don't think you are," he replied softly. "You don't have to believe me. But I will say, Rangi...I and people like me are out there fighting every single day. Against things a lot bigger and stronger than we are. I'm only human. But my nature does not define me or what I'm capable of. I hope you can see how much good you bring to wherever you go." He averted his gaze before closing his eyes. "That's your choice. And I get it. I do a lot of things for other people's sake. But I wish you wouldn't. My life is better with more friends in it."

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Rangi looked down at her bare feet again and shrugged. "Sure," she said. It would probably help at least a little bit, though she already felt better just being inside. She shook her head a little. "Feels like it, sometimes," she mumbled, "I don't think I was built for the cold." Growing up down in New Zealand had spoiled her a little bit with climate. Sure, they had seasons, but the temperature remained pretty steady throughout the year.

At that, she let out a breath through her nose. "No, it's not a trap, Ralph. Weed is legal everywhere now. And we're not on the clock."

Before Ralph even asks if she knows how, she's taking the offered bong and lighter and pulling it towards her. "Yes, I know how to hit a bong, Ralph," she said to him, half rolling her eyes. "I'm not that much of a square." She definitely preferred to smoke it, but this would have to do. She lit it up, breathed it in, held it. After a long moment, she let her breath go and her entire body deflated. "I'd like to think we are," Rangi said, pushing the bong back towards Ralph. "Aren't we?"

"Uh huh. Just banshees," Ralphie repeated, giving a brief nod in her direction. His own gaze followed hers. "You want some socks? They're not...they're dress socks. S'all I wear, ya dig it? Folks like 'em bigger and fluffier nowadays, don't they? But I don't live in the fuckin' Arctic." He seemed to be operating on the notion that fluffy socks existed solely for keeping out the cold in places like Canada or Alaska.

Still, moving about the vehicle's interior, Ralph seemed to pause. A wicked smile tugged at his lips, but he tucked it away as soon as he took notice of its presence. "This ain't, like, a trap, is it? What's the employee handbook say?" This quip was mostly a joke.

Sitting down beside her, then, Ralph placed a bong on the table, something likely leftover from the 70s with its colored acrylic and jutting tubes. "No joints today. Sorry. You know how to..?" He hummed. "This was American-made. They used to...advertise 'em with, like, posters of Uncle Sam. Funny, ain't it? I know not a lot feels very funny right now, ya dig it? But we're friends, ain't we? And it's okay to feel good for a little while."

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The wolf was kinda cute, but Rangi figured that probably wasn't something she should voice out loud, but as she watched its eyes traced around the clearing and its nose nudge her leg, she couldn't help it. She'd never had a dog while growing up, but there'd always been animals wandering around the grounds, considering their home spanned acres in the small town, with sheep and alpacas and other local farm animals taking up most of the open fields. Stray cats and dogs were always wandering around, too, and Rangi had always liked to carry little treats with her to give to them. She didn't have anything now, so she just held out her hand for the wolf to sniff.

When the wolf stood and began to pace, she could only wonder what it was thinking. If only she was a mind reader. But the gesture of frustrated paws digging against the ground wasn't too hard to interpret. "Are you...stuck?" she asked, moving to stand, using the tree to help her stay steady. The soft soil was cold against her bare feet as she headed over to it, glancing around as well. "Sorry, I...don't really know how to help. I'm not that, um, versed with werewolves." If Lara was here, she would probably know what to do. She thought it might be funny, too, that the ex banshee turned wolf was helping both a banshee and a wolf. "Where should we go? We can't be too far outta town, right?"

The wolf gave a low ruff, a noise of recognition if nothing else. Even now, as he settled beside her, his mind was operating primarily through instinctual abstractions, rather than through lucid choice. And instinct was now telling him that danger lurked in these woods. Consumed by his heightened senses, Rohan heard every sound, caught every flicker of movement, smelt every strange scent. Some part of him remained aware of the vestiges of the invading pack, a distinction between safe and unsafe. He did not want to stay here, but the stronger part of psyche did not know where else to go. Right now, human was something he simply was not. Nothing more.

He nudged Rangi's leg again, whining a little this time. But at her question, some semblance of awareness seemed to return to him. Rising, Rohan walked in a circle, taking in their surroundings, turning back and offering a pointed shake of his head back and forth. His paws kicked at the dirt, a frustrated gesture perhaps meant to indicate that he knew he was not supposed to have them right now, But he did not know how to make them go away.

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Rangi lifted her arms just enough to let Ronnie pull her own shirt off, just a loose fitting pajama shirt that she was bare under. She only glanced briefly back up at Ronnie when she caught her eyes, looking down at her with something Rangi didn't understand-- or didn't want to acknowledge. The gentle touch felt a little jarring. Hands on her face, cupping her jaw. Rangi didn't think she deserved gentle, but she pressed her cheek into her hand anyway as Ronnie leaned back in, their lips pressing together.

A face appeared in Rangi's mind. There was giggling. She felt lightheaded. The world was blurry, but the man's face was right there, tucked into her neck. Oww-- hey! A tearing pain made Rangi's breath catch and she couldn't help the gasp she let out, hands digging into Ronnie's back. This had never happened to her before, having a death vision while touching Ronnie. Of course, she knew Ronnie was a vampire. She knew she'd died at some point, all vampires had. But she'd always been either in control enough or wasted enough to drive away the part of her that was always trying to search out death, wherever and whoever it touched.

She didn't want it to be here, though. She didn't want it to be now. She knew she'd been staring up at Ronnie for too long now. She really didn't want to talk about what had just happened. So before Ronnie could ask anything or say anything, Rangi pulled her back down with one hand while the other unclipped the snap of her bra, hoping she wouldn't see anything else at the touch.

There went her shirt. Ronnie didn't even care at this point. Maybe she should stop caring about things. She didn't, for a really long time, or she told herself she didn't. And she got really good at pushing away her guilt over the things she told herself she didn't care about. But she'd fucked up. She was actively fucking up.

Ronnie's jerked off Rangi's shirt as well as she looked down at her, eyes bright, her breathing heavy. But she was gentle as she leaned in, her hands cupping Rangi's face to pull her in for another kiss. She'd never wanted anything serious with anyone ever before, never wanted to talk about her feelings, never wanted to touch something too much, for people to see what she really was. Awful. Ronnie was awful, and she knew it, and she hurt people over it. If this was what she was good at, then so be it.

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Rangi was quiet at that. She supposed back when she'd been a kid, having her parents in the same house had helped in preventing her from walking off alone out of the house and into the night. But she'd felt a little like a prisoner with how oppressive they'd been with it. She didn't like the idea of locking herself up, but it was quickly becoming the only thing she could think to do. "I don't really...have anyone for that." At least no one she wanted to ask. No one she wanted to subject to that. No one she felt she could ask. Not anymore. Mason had often stayed over with her when she was worried she might sleep walk, and they'd saved her quite a few times from startling awake in the woods. But still. Who would do that for her now?

Rangi looked over at Lara. It was jarringly painful to hear, to understand. All Rangi had ever wanted when she'd been a child was to be different, to not be this. But Lara's words made her lungs feel tight. "I'm sorry," she said to her quietly, "none of it ever feels fair, does it?"

"Someone else being around helps, too," Lara added after a moment. Not even a person, not even to be stopped. There was a reason she used to tie herself to the horse. Sometimes, just not waking up alone was enough. It was hard to stop the sleepwalking; their bodies were being pulled towards something, and that something rarely wanted to be denied. But to not be alone was a gift. Death was so solitary. Lara herself was so solitary. But companionship was still desirable. She put on her blinker, making the left turn as the truck rumbled along. For a second, she pondered the question as she worried at her thumb nail, still focused on the road. "Yes," she finally murmured. "I miss it. I miss... feeling like myself. I have not felt like me in a long time." The honesty of it was unfamiliar to her. Lara was truthful, first by nature and now by habit. But she was not always honest. Silence was a long time companion of hers. If she didn't want to talk about something, then she wouldn't. This, though, with another that might understand... Lara could share this.

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Rangi shuddered, the feeling rolling up her spine into her head as teeth grazed her skin. The immediate instinct, living in a world with vampires, was to pull away, but it was easy to remind herself that Linden wasn't one, with how warm his body was and how hot his breath felt against her. His hands were roaming her body, her own still pressed against his stomach, before moving to his back, feeling smooth muscles under her palms and closing her eyes, blocking out all the thoughts that were trying to tell her that what she was doing was bad and that she was bad. She just wanted to feel good, just for a little bit. And she knew that after this was over, that darkness would creep back in and steal away whatever happiness she'd gleamed from it, but for now, in this moment, for the next moments, she would let herself feel good. "Good," she breathed back, lifting herself when he prompted, hands wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist. When her back hit the wall, she let out a gasp, a breath, holding onto him tighter. Looking down at him and seeing, for a moment, Ronnie, with her stupid big, hazel eyes, and her flushed cheeks, and her impossible strength despite her small stature. She shook the thought away, focused back on him. Wanted to focus on just this. On the feeling of hands on her body, annoyed with the fabric between them. She pulled away just enough to reach down and tug her sweater off, throwing it to the side. Hands tugging at his shirt to pull it up and off. Desperate for any form of contact that didn't make her feel like she was crumbling.

"Okay." He murmured against her neck, letting his teeth graze gently against the skin before retracing their path with his lips. Still holding her close he let his hands wander across her body, unrushed, grazing down her sides, across her ass, under her shirt to the small of her back, her skin feeling heated against his hands. He followed where her thoughts told him to go, kissing, nipping, squeezing wherever she reacted to. It was a handy trick, one of the few times he didn't hate his magic. Still, he could hear the turmoil in her head, so he focused on pleasing her, of chasing away the dark with his hands, his lips - whatever he could.

"I can do that." he chuckled, bringing their lips back together. Her lips caught his groan as she traced down his body, her fingers bracing against his bare skin. Without thinking too much about it, he used the arm around her to pick her up, using his other hand to encourage her to wrap her legs around him. He made it from the entry to the living room that was more library than anything, pinning her into a wall so that he could explore her more throroughly, hands under her shirt, getting irriated at the fabric that was in his way.

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His hand wrapped around her neck before she could blink, and for only a moment, Rangi felt afraid. It was just base instinct, not only for anyone who wanted to keep breathing, but moreso for a banshee, who's entire being tried its hardest to protect the throat. Without it, a banshee could not scream. Her body grew stiff, she felt his cold skin against her own, squeezing. Not hard enough to choke her, but enough to make her vision speckle for a moment, wonder if later she'd look in the mirror and see bruises in the shape of his hand. Her hands had reflexively come up to grasp at his wrist, but within seconds, her grip grew slack and she let them drop. She didn't care if he killed her, anymore. And that wasn't a good thing. She knew that wasn't a good thing. She didn't think she cared about that, either.

His hand wrapped around her throat and her eyes rolled back into her head as another vision played in her head. Another hand against another throat. A knife. A grin. Pain, fear. It shocked her body stiff. Her vision came back slowly, he was still standing above her, telling her he knew what it felt like. No, no he thought he did. Just like Rangi would never know what it felt like to die, he could never know what it felt like to lose the person he loved most. She sputtered, grabbing her throat to rub at it, curling on her side to breathe easier.

"You still have her," was all she said to that. He still had Leyla and he would always have Leyla. Rangi had lost the only person that she'd ever loved before. She'd watched him die in her arms. She'd lost him for good and she'd never have him back.

Her arm was burning as she tried to finally sit herself up, though not willingly. She just didn't want him to touch her anymore. She didn't want to see anything else right now. Her head was pounding already, mostly due in part to the multiple visions now floating around it. And a face, a face so familiar, a face she swore she'd seen before, but couldn't place right now. She blinked it all away.

She sat up but didn't move further. Her arm was in pain and her feet were throbbing along with her head. She'd walked so far away from her house this time. Why had it led her here? "You should leave," she mumbled, seeing the agitation in him as the blood dripped down her arm, "no one wants you to eat fae blood."

"No, species is what makes me a killer, doesn't it?" he scoffed, it wasn't as if he was the only one who had taken a life here, "I'm not the one full of it." Even if he had been anything else, any other species, or even still human it wouldn't deter the fact that he inherently a bad person that did not deserve anything of what he had now, her or anyone else don't need to say it. "I know who and what I am. I don't try to hide from it." At least not anymore. There had been times where he wished to be human again, where he felt like that would be the be all and end all of the emptiness that came with being turned into but it had existed far earlier than that, his turning was a cause for change in way because somewhere along the line he had grown accustomed to it and shaped the idea he had of himself.

"At least I'll be meeting someone's expectations then," he shot back not actually caring what she had to say about this anymore. "You were born with your abilities, yes? Well, I had to die for mine. This isn't mourning, it's annoyed resignation. Fate fucked us both in different ways." He knew since he had been a child that he didn't have a long stretch of life before him, end, by either him taking matters into his own hand or having met with some incident, would cut it short, but the way it had happened could not be predicted nor expected, and when it had come down to the end, to the moment where him and death would finally meet there was a heavy feeling of not like this.

Ken rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck in hopes to rid himself of this excess anger and displeasure that began to grow as this conversation went along. He had half a mind to walk away too, leave her there to pick herself or stay - he didn't fucking care, just anything to place much needed distance between them and this whole mess but in his hesitation the slap took him entirely by surprise. Her tears didn't register. Her shouts didn't help. Head snapped around to face her, eyes glazing over with fury and without much thought his hand wrapped around her throat in a flash, "I told you to stop talking." Ken didn't know what she saw with this contact, but a vision played in his own head of him being in this situation… of him on the ground and Lucien on the other side with a hand around his throat and knife in the other repeating the same thing as he had just done. The memory faded as quick as it came, Rangi's face replaced his own, but when he looked to the hands, his own ones reflected back. That didn't faded to someone else. A shiver of disgust ran through him at the sight causing him to recoil. Lucien's grin, that hatred in his voice echoed much like his own had in this moment.

"Fuckkkk." With a shudder Ken stood up, a sharp exhale was an attempt to release his own repulsion but that didn't work as well as he had hoped, thoughts still swirled on what he had done, on what she had the guts to do.

It took a long time to register what she had said but slowly things filtered back, sounds.. words.. place.. time.. He focused on one thing at a time. "I do know what it feels like," Ken said, "Yes I still have her, but I know what it's like." Almost. He had almost lost her so many times, held her while she bled out, held her despite hearing her bones break, that sound would forever haunt him. And even now, there was an uncertainty, she was in the hospital with god what knows what illness and here he was alive and well. It didn't seem fair. Eyes found hers, tone turning gravely quiet, "I wish I could feel. Something. Anything. There's nothing other than apathy for me." Anger came and went, simmered low most of time though, existed just to keep him alive. "So cry. Feel. Don't let yourself turn into this," he pointed at himself, "There'll be no hope otherwise."

Ken walked away from not at all expecting that she actually start crying, but when the smell of blood hit him, that distance grew crucial. "Fucking brilliant." Tonight was not the night where he wanted to tempt fate and throw consequences to the wind, at least not more so than already. Seating himself on the bench, he pulled out his cigarette case pressing a stick to his lips. Wasn't that how it went? Curb one craving with another? A human vice to replace this immortal hunger was not on the same playing field but he wasn't so stupid to feed from a fae either. A couple attempts to light were made, hands still shook slightly causing grip to slip but eventually he struck and smoke filled his lungs as he breathed in deeply.

To find her still on the side of the road when he opened his eyes a few seconds later caused him to frown. "Get up. Are you going to stay there all night? Ten seconds. Or I will pull you up by the scruff. Let's not get to that stage, okay?"

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Mana, the female calico, stayed on the bed laying next to Rangi, protective and wary of the newcomer. Still, she purred against Rangi's back, prompting her to finally move, shifting enough to pull the smaller cat into her arms and bury her face in her fur. Her tired eyes glanced over at Dhruv from behind the cat, both hiding and showing what she felt-- exhausted and defeated. Guilty and resentful. Her gaze fell again. "You can stay," she mumbled quietly, unable to keep her eyes on him for too long. Even from a distance, he looked too much like Mason. She knew it wasn't fair of her to see that, to think that-- Dhruv was his own person-- but her mind kept pulling the images back, of her friend smiling at her from the doorway, poking fun at her for sleeping in. "He probably needs outside attention," she said, of the cat still purring next to Dhruv. As for herself, she didn't say much else. He didn't understand what he was offering to her. And it wasn't his fault. But she didn't need anyone right now. At least, she didn't need anything that anyone could give her right now.

"You don't have to do that," she muttered, "just...take care of yourself."

Dhruv continued to pet Tapu, a small smile forming only to fade when with a peek up at Rangi made him see she still wasn't looking his way. It would've been comical if a glance was given his way — a tall, lanky man, trying so desperately to retreat into himself so to not take up too much room, while a curious little cat tried to keep him in spot by climbing onto him. "I'll give him all the attention if you'd let me." He didn't know whether he was at fault, but he must be, must've done or said something hurtful to some capacity that she didn't even want to look at him. Dhruv tried not to think on that too much, at least not while he was here. "If I'm being a pest, tell me yeah? I'll get out of your hair. I wanted to see how you were and to let you know that I'm here. Don't want to bother you."

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The RV sat like a beacon on the dark street and Rangi had to wonder if that's what had draw her here-- or if, perhaps, she was heading somewhere else when Ralph had woken her. She couldn't recall what she'd been dreaming about fully, but she did remember there'd been shadows dancing around her, laughing, a pain in her ribs she'd never felt before. Blinking, her gaze focused back on Ralph. "I-- yeah," she mumbled, looking down at her bare feet. Shook her head. "Just banshees," she corrected, "it's...only me." Her parents had been exasperated with her sleep walking, cuffing her to her bed at night near the full moon or if she seemed to be having a particularly bad episode of it.

She followed him as he ushered her over to the RV and inside, the floor feeling much warmer on the bottoms of her feet than the asphalt of the road. Sinking into one of the chairs, Rangi slumped as she felt the weariness of her body setting in. "Actually, yeah," she said, eyes meeting Ralph's, "I think I do want some." If anything, it would at least take some of the ache in her bones away. This had been the third night in a row that she'd been out sleepwalking and at this point, she was simply letting it happen. Maybe she hoped something worse than an angry vampire would stumble upon her. Maybe she was hoping she'd just walk off a cliff. She scraped her hand across her eyes, the chill of her skin evident as the warm air inside began to heat her skin. "I could really use a fucking joint."

"Were ya walking, boss? I know the Fae can be known to do that sorta shit, ya dig it?" He wrinkled up his nose, looking around. "Celestial Hills. They don't like it when I park my RV 'round these parts on account of it bein' an eyesore and all. But the rebel in me likes rilin' things up and bringin' down Home Owners Association values." He flashed a sideways grin, an expression that made just how much he was joking unclear. Still, Ralphie sobered after only a moment. "Come on. There's a table and chairs." Gently leading her toward the door and pulling it open, he tugged her inside. A hand came up to wave through the air. "Sorry. Sorry...All this'll...it'll filter out. You want a little? No. No. 'Course not. Sorry. That was inappropriate. But make yerself at home. Swell digs, ain't it? Been livin' here since 1970 or so."

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Rangi flinched as he poked her forehead gently. She furrowed her brow, frowned, but it wasn't an angry or upset one. It was whatever playful might look like under such circumstances. Rangi didn't think she'd be anything but empty, and yet she still felt so much. She kind of didn't want to feel anything at all. She wished she could just shut it all off. Especially when she looked back over at him. She laughed darkly. "And what way do I deserve?" She didn't deserve anything, she thought. At least nothing good. She certainly didn't deserve happiness. "Maybe you should work on that, then," she said quietly, looking away.

Rangi could understand that. Growing up, her parents had always expected her to be someone she wasn't. Someone she could never be. And now she was here. "That's on them, not you," she told him, shrugging back. She sunk a little further into the couch and laid her head back as well, watching his face. "I'm so proud of you," she teased softly.

Seo-Joon tilted a brow over at her as she asked him a question he had been under the assumption would be obvious, but when her head titled his way, he found himself reaching out and gently poking her forehead as explained, "Because I wouldn't treat you the way you deserve," He said as he leaned back. His head lolled agains the back of the couch as he lazily glanced her way. "I barely spare much of a thought toward myself these days. I'd be no good to someone else right now," He explained as his gaze moved from hers back up toward the ceiling as a deep sigh rolled off his tongue.

"Some more than others," He noted after a prolonged beat. "And yet people still constantly seem to expect me to be someone I'm not." Even when he when he explicitly stated to them what they were asking for was more than he was capable of giving, so he just carried on, letting them think whatever the hell they wanted about him. "No," He shook his head the smallest bit back and forth. The corner of his own lips lifted slightly as he teasingly murmured, "I even managed it without rolling my eyes. Progress."

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Rangi didn't really know what to say anymore. There was always a choice, wasn't there? Even if the choice was bad, or wrong, there was always a choice. Rangi shook her head, barely perceptible, shrugged her shoulders, body drooping. She looked-- and felt-- defeated. "There's always a choice," she muttered, her voice flat but gentle. She knew she had a choice and she knew she always made the wrong choice. She didn't know how to stop. Her lip quivered, throat felt dry. Lifted a hand to scrape across her eyes, drying them.

When she looked back up at Efe, he was somehow smiling. It was small and fleeting, but it was a smile. "I'm bad luck," she told him quietly, her voice wavering despite the smile on her lips, "I always have been. It's just what I am." Her eyes grew hazy, unfocused. "Death." It followed her everywhere. It consumed everything in its wake, except her. It always left her standing there, alone. It took and it took and it took, and all she got back was pain and holes in her soul. For the longest time, she'd thought she could make it a gift, help put to rest the people who died alone, afraid, unsure. "I can't...put you through that, too."

"Okay. Good." Efe nodded, brow furrowing. Maybe that was selfish, some part of him thought in this moment, feeling grateful when so many had been hurt. Or worse. The understanding gripped him, and he felt his jaw clench. For a moment, memory returned to the mundanity of the laundromat, to inane discussions about Zelda video games. He let out a breath. "Hey..hey...it's okay." But it was not. He knew it was not. People just said those things.

"I don't think we have a choice," he admitted softly, gaze trailing away when he found he could not quite meet her eye. Because, really, he did have a choice, or at least more of one. He could leave, and maybe the hunters would simply let him. Foolish, he knew. But there had been a life beyond Lunar Cove, a good one. There was good here too, even now, he reminded himself. And maybe that much was worth continuing the battle, even when it did not feel like enough.

"I liked it too," he replied, flashing a weak smile back. "And look...I don't...I don't know a lot about Fae things. But I do know that I don't think you can blame yourself for anything that's happened here. All this is...people making their own decisions. Decisions to hurt us. Please know that."

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END.

Rangi: I don't know if there ever was Rangi: It is. It's kind of like no other place in the world Rangi: I guess that's why they filmed Lord of the Rings there Rangi: It's a promise.

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"Hey, no, no," Rangi said at Leyla's frail voice, "don't be sorry. It's okay. It-- it's gonna be okay." It was all going to be okay, right? It had to be. It had to be. The world has already taken so much from her, couldn't it just give her this? Couldn't it just let her have a break this one time? It had to. She felt like it had to.

She climbed into the ambulance after Leyla and the paramedics, sitting beside her, making sure she could still reach out and hold her hand, squeezing. "I know," she said to her, trying her best to hold back the flood of tears threatening to pour from her eyes. "I know you did. And I'm holding you to that, you know? That promise." And she had to keep remembering that she hadn't screamed. Leyla wasn't going to die yet. But death was sometimes a kindness. Rangi didn't want her friend to suffer, either. She wanted her to be okay. Was that too much to ask?

"We still have to go taste cakes, too," Rangi reminded her gently as the ambulance started its short journey to the hospital. "I'm really looking forward to that."

Leyla's eyes fluttered open, unfocused, her breath shallow as she clung to the edges of consciousness. The world felt distant, muffled, but Rangi’s voice cut through the haze like an anchor. She blinked sluggishly, trying to force her thoughts into order, but everything was sluggish, heavy, wrong.

She wanted to tell Rangi that she was fine—just a little dizzy, that was all—but when she tried to force the words past her lips, they barely came out as a whisper. "I can try to si- ... o-okay," she mumbled weakly, though the sharp wave of vertigo that followed immediately proved her wrong. Her head lolled back against Rangi’s arm, and she let out a breathless huff. Everything felt distant, like she was floating just outside of herself, like she wasn't really connected to her own body anymore. That was... bad, wasn’t it?

But Rangi was here, keeping her anchored. That had to mean everything was okay. Or at least, it would be. She blinked heavily, trying to focus, trying to stay present, but Rangi’s voice was starting to feel like it was coming from the other end of a tunnel.

“Rangi…” Her voice was barely above a breath, but she forced herself to meet her friend’s eyes. Even in her dazed state, she could feel how tense she was, how tightly wound with worry. "I'm s-sorry," She murmured.

The shuffle of approaching feet barely registered until the paramedics' voices cut through the haze, and suddenly, the warmth around her was gone. She let out a weak sound of protest as hands lifted her onto the stretcher, but she barely had the strength to move, let alone resist. Her fingers twitched, reaching for something—someone—before she felt her friend's presence beside her again.

"I'm sorry you had to s-see t-this, but I'm g-going to be fine," She tried to assure her, glancing back toward the paramedic as if to ask them to assure Rangi as well. "I made a promise and I don't break my promises."

[faerietothe-otherside]

Rangi froze a little as Elif pressed soft, warm lips against her cheek. It was just a thank you, she knew that, but she didn't feel like it was something she deserved. She didn't feel like she was doing anything worth thanking for. She swallowed and looked up at Elif, before standing slowly. She squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her as she said, "I'm gonna get you a glass of water." And maybe she just needed a minute, too. "I'll be right back, I promise." She just needed to gather herself a moment.

She gave Elif one last squeeze before she headed out into the kitchen and over to the sink. Her hands shook as she grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned on the water, and Rangi had to stop, letting out a choked sob, quieted by the sound of the faucet running. She gave herself only thirty seconds to let it out before she was wiping her eyes dry and filling the glass, composing herself as she headed back to the room.

She set the water down on the side table where Elif could reach it before looking back over at her, sitting on the edge of her bed. There wasn't much else to say, she knew exactly how Elif felt in this moment. How nothing and everything seemed to clash inside of you, how it was all so much and nothing was ever enough. So, instead, she removed her shoes and scooted onto the bed beside her, letting the other girl decide if she wanted the physical comfort or not. Whatever she wanted, Rangi would be there, in all the ways she felt no one had been there for her, even if most of those were her own fault.

Elif didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. The small nod she gave Rangi was enough—just barely, but enough. She let herself lean into her, letting the warmth of Rangi’s shoulder press against her cheek, the steady rise and fall of her breathing grounding her in a way her own breath couldn’t. Her arms tightened around Rangi’s waist, holding on as if she were afraid that if she let go, she might slip away, untethered.

She moved when Rangi moved, trusting her to lead the way, her steps unsteady but guided. The air outside was sharp, cool against the warmth of her flushed skin, but Rangi’s presence kept her from shivering and she didn’t let go. Not when they reached the car. Not when Rangi helped her inside. The moment Rangi's fingers left her, a desperation rose in the back of her throat, only for Rangi's hand to return to hers just the car rumbled to life.

Elif clung to Rangi’s hand, her fingers wrapped tight like she was afraid of losing her grip. Her eyes, wide and still glassy, never left her. She watched her in the dim light, searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe just the reminder that Rangi was real and here and holding her just as firmly in return. She didn’t say a word the whole ride, just stared with those soft, overwhelmed, almost desperate eyes, her thumb brushing against Rangi’s knuckles absentmindedly. A silent thank you, over and over again, in the only way she knew how to give it right now.

And when Rangi settled her onto the bed, Elif didn’t resist, though she still clung to her touch, her eyes searching, soft and pleading. She didn’t know what she was asking for, not really. Maybe just for this moment to last a little longer. Maybe just for Rangi to stay.

She blinked slowly, exhaling a sharp breath before she leaned in and pressed the gentlest kiss against Rangi’s cheek. The warmth of her skin lingered on her lips as she whispered, so quiet it barely carried between them, “Thank you.”

Her voice was small, worn, yet full of something deeper than gratitude alone. A sorrowful kind of familiarity. A weight she knew Rangi understood without needing her to explain.

[faerietothe-otherside]

Rangi: I don't know if there ever was Rangi: It is. It's kind of like no other place in the world Rangi: I guess that's why they filmed Lord of the Rings there Rangi: It's a promise.

Bri: Yeah... Bri: Honestly, I don't really know if there is such thing as fair anymore Bri: It sounds really pretty 💖 Bri: I guess it's a promise then? Bri: I'm looking forward to you showing me around 😊

[faerietothe-otherside]

Song's body movements were subtle but noticeable if you looked. Rangi couldn't help but look. It was strange to look at someone and see a person you recognized, only to realize that you don't actually recognize them at all. Sometimes, Rangi felt like that when she looked in the mirror. She hadn't been doing a lot of that, lately. She hadn't wanted to be alone with herself in that way. Her gaze drifted sideways at his remark, self-deprecating in a way that felt all too familiar. "And why not?" she found herself asking. "We're all pretty fucked up in this place now." She wasn't talking about the movie.

In the moment, Rangi was glad for the bowl of food in her hands, otherwise she'd have no idea what to do with them. She squeezed the bowl, tapped a finger along the side of it in an old, nervous habit. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" she mumbled back, the matching twitch of a smile on her own lips.

Song fell silent for a moment, his gaze flickering toward her before it fell to his hand still stretched out across the back of the couch. Exhaling softly through his nose, something almost like a laugh but too quiet, too tired to be real amusement, he curled his fingers into a fist as his shoulders lifted and fell.

"You wouldn’t want to fall in love with me anyhow," he muttered. His gaze tilting back toward the screen as he muttered under his breath, "Romcom? No, but sure. They were definitely gay."

He let another prolonged minute pass, before the corner of his lips itched up ever so slightly as he added under his breath, "You're welcome. Happy?"