#anger? violent impulses? i have no fucking clue how to handle this except the vague ‘don’t be like dad’

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

i just get so angry lately. i don’t think i was always like this. it’s not like i’ve never been angry before, but it never used to fill up my whole body. it’s like it’s a physical thing that’s taking over and i don’t know how to make it stop. and it’s almost never caused by something that i consider a big deal. my laptop running slow makes my whole body tense up like i’m going to fucking attack it. i got the wrong contacts, and that’s frustrating, but i shouldn’t be so angry that even my cat trying to cuddle me pisses me off.

it’s like my body is trying to make up for all the times it picked “flight” by throwing “fight” at literally every fucking problem and i am so sick of it. i’ve never been a violent person, and i still haven’t acted on any impulses to lash out, but now they’re there and they weren’t before.

[let-your-chaos-explode]

Stay With Me

Summary: Not long after the events of Bottled Appetites, Yennefer decides to confront Tissaia.

Yennefer surveyed the raucous party through masked eyes. The frivolities of minor nobles had grown tedious. It had been three months since she had lost her opportunity with the Djinn and destroyed the comfortable lifestyle she had grown accustomed to in Rhinde. Fuck it all. The Witcher had left her without so much as a backwards glance, and though she didn’t have such a deep yearning for the White Wolf, the abandonment still stung like a slap to the face. Much like every other person in her life had done. She supposed she should be used to it by now. Even if you were a beauty, still no one would love you. Yennefer snatched a goblet of wine from the tray of a passing servant and shot it back. Fuck Tissaia too. The thought of their exchange the night before the dreadful events still left her blood boiling. Funnily enough, the cold pit of guilt she felt in her gut did nothing to balance her rage. All the barbs that she carefully crafted and thrown at the other woman left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wanted her to hurt. She wanted her to hurt the same way that she did. Maybe then Yennefer might believe that even a small part of her cared for her. The woman didn’t even flinch and simply left when dismissed. And again Yennefer was left wanting and alone. Tissaia was good at that. She grabbed another glass and started drinking this one slightly slower. She had started to make herself comfortable in the castle of Denesle by charming the young aspiring knight. She had convinced them all of the wealth and power she would bring to their name in exchange for housing and coin. They had thrown a harvest ball in her honor, convinced her arrival was divine intervention that yielded a bountiful crop. Who was she to say otherwise? Yennefer snorted into her goblet. She had her eyes set on her own goals. Whispers of a golden dragon. And yet Tissaia’s words still haunted her. The seductive timber of her voice, the intoxicating smell of vanilla and sandalwood as she stood behind her, the smallest smile in the mirror... Yennefer clenched her teeth against the familiar desire that burned in her veins. Decades of nights spent with other as she pretended they were someone else. Decades of nights alone as her own fingers worked furiously to fantasies of slender fingers, a pale neck, a scathing tongue. This time she grabbed the bottle. How was it that she was always the one who was left so affected? Maybe she could pretend the fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle were actually around her lying throat. Gods, she needed some air. Yennefer stumbled out into the gardens and nearly tripped on the train of her elegant gown. Growling in frustration, she collapsed in front of the estate’s well-manicured rose bush. The potent fragrance did nothing to quell the spinning of her head. Yennefer reaches out and snapped off a rose at the stem, pricking her fingers good on the angry thorns. This too reminded her of Tissaia and goddamn she couldn’t get the woman out of her head! How fitting. Her clumsy fingers smeared blood across the pure white petals of the flower. Did she have any idea of how shattered she left people? Did she even care? Yennefer took another swig from the rapidly draining bottle. Someone should tell her. Someone should tell her just how much of a bitch she is. I’m going to tell her. With unmatched drunken impulsivity, she stumbled through a portal.

Yennefer crashed through the other side and immediately started heaving.

“Yennefer?!” Came Tissaia’s startled gasp. “What, how did you get in here?” Yennefer ignored the loud shout of surprise and rested her forehead against the cool stone as she gathered her bearings. A splash of water and another annoying round of questions. “What are you doing here? How did you get past my security wards?” “Shut up!” Yennefer hissed through clenched teeth. “Can’t you just refrain from lecture for once in your miserable life?” “You’re drunk.” Tissaia surmised. “And you’re a bitch.” Yennefer answered. Yennefer had yet to open her eyes or ascend from her position sprawled out on the floor. Traveling via portal was never comfortable and now she couldn’t get her vision to stop swimming. “You’re a downright frigid bitch. Have you ever loved a day in your life? Or cared for something other than your precious Aretuza? Did you ever care for me?” She continued. Her words were slurred but she figured she got her point across. She heard another slosh of water and felt something solid collide violently with her temple, doing nothing to ease the pounding ache. “Get out.” Tissaia seethed. “Ow. What the fuck, Tissaia?” Yennefer rocked back on her hands and knees and settled on her haunches, cradling the spot where she had been assaulted. Finally, she opened her eyes. Was she in a bathroom? Yennefer scanned the room briefly before her eyes settled on Tissaia’s. The Rectoress lounged comfortably against the edge of a full, bubbly tub. Her hair was piled into a loose knot at the top of her head and her cheeks flushed with the heat. She was the picture of contentment, except for the fire in her eyes and the snarl on her lips. Yennefer dumbly took another look around to confirm her conclusion. “Are you saying these things to try to hurt me or to make yourself feel better?” Tissaia  snaps. Yennefer is still reeling over the fact that she is standing in Tissaia’s bathroom with the woman naked before her. It was almost like she had died and gone to heaven. “Did I die?” The words tumble from her mouth before she can catch them. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” Tissaia asks her through narrowed eyes, anger receding in favor of vague concern. Yennefer shakily pulls herself to a stand using the edge of Tissaia’s tub.  “Oh don’t act like you care!” She didn’t even attempt to hide a peek inside. Unfortunately, the bubbles did a well enough job of keeping things covered. That didn’t stop Tissaia from attempting to slap her away. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying!” “How much have you had, Yennefer?” Tissaia asks again as she pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. Yennefer sways a bit on her feet and sarcastically makes a show of counting on her fingers before landing on a singular, vulgar one. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Grow up!” A snort. A giggle. “Did you just say fuck?” Tissaia does not deign to answer. “Is it for fuck sake or for fucks sake?” “It’s for fuck’s sake. Apostrophe as in for the sake of the fuck.” “Oh my god, Tissaia please go on. Say fuck again, you’re turning me on.” A dark blush climbs up from the cover of bubbles at her chest to her cheeks. Yennefer once again feels the surge of affection she had been trying so hard to replace with bitterness. “You’re so beautiful.” If Tissaia wasn’t caught off guard by any of the other surprises of the evening, Yennefer finally got her with this one. “Why are you here?” Yennefer swayed once more and stumbled closer to the tub, falling to her knees before the older sorceress. She said nothing for a moment, merely letting her fingers swirl wistfully in the water. “I needed you to know how much of a cold-hearted witch that you are.” She states simply. Yennefer does not see Tissaia bristle. Her eyes are transfixed on the shimmering rivers of the soap as they follow her fingertips. “I needed you to know how broken you manage to leave me feeling every time that you leave. How I can’t stand that I’ve never managed to mean a damn thing to you even after all these years. How, despite everything, I can’t get you out of my head.” Tissaia sucks in a shallow breath and Yennefer stills her hands. Slowly, she drags violet eyes up to meet blue. Tissaia had leaned forward and pressed her knees tightly against her chest, her arms crossed in front.  For the first time ever, she seemed vulnerable... and not from her lack of clothing. “But most of all, I can’t stand that I think I’m in love with you.” Yennefer holds her gaze steadily. “You don’t mean that.” Tissaia argued, voice strained. “I am in love with you. And you don’t even see me! Hardly worth the four marks you wasted.” Tissaia grabs her chin and holds it firmly, not allowing Yennefer to escape from the drunken confession. “You are worth so much more.” She relaxes her grip only slightly and runs her thumb over the bottom of Yennefer’s lip. Yennefer can feel the gentle probe of her consciousness against her own walls and cannot bring herself to put up a fight. Instead, she lets all her emotions come rushing through like the waters of a broken dam. She doesn’t know what Tissaia was looking for, or if she found it. But the flood of emotions must have overwhelmed the sorceress who preached control. Tissaia pressed her forehead against Yennefer’s and let out a sob as hot tears leaked from behind clenched eyes. Tissaia pulled back and stroked her cheek gently. “I have always loved you Yennefer. It was you I never dreamed would ever love me. You never gave me one indication, one opening to show you more than I already have. Didn’t I give you any clue? I’ve given you so much of me! So much more than I have given anyone, ever. But you were too insecure to ever understand that!” Yennefer couldn’t control it. She was way past three sheets to the wind and so she just started laughing. Of course the universe would find it hilarious to throw her this curveball. Or she really was dead. That option was still entirely possible. She disentangled herself and once more tripped over gown in her haste to escape through the door. The handle wouldn’t budge and the torches around them grew with a rage. “You don’t get to run from this! Not this time!” Tissaia rose from the tub like a goddess rising from the sea. The propriety of her high-collared gowns betrayed her level of modesty, as she did nothing to hide from Yennefer’s hungry eyes. Eyes that followed every rivulet as it cascaded over luscious curves and planes that Yennefer wanted to follow with her tongue. Tissaia toweled off and, to Yennefer’s disappointment, covered herself with a black silken robe. Uncomfortable with the silent intensity of the moment, Yennefer began to fidget and found a particular stone in the floor to deeply inspect. She portaled in, she could portal out, right? Forget this mess ever happened. She stiffened slightly as the woman prowled behind her. “You stink of vomit and alcohol.” She said into her ear. The whisper of her breath against Yennefer’s neck beckoned gooseflesh to erupt over her skin. The sensation lingered as Tissaia’s clever fingers began to expertly undo the laces of her gown, tips ghosting across her shoulders and back. “You will bathe and get some rest.” Tissaia commanded. And whatever Tissaia wants, Tissaia gets. Yennefer swallowed thickly as the material of her gown slid down her arms. She could feel the gentle brush of the older women’s breasts against her back as she leaned forward to slide the gown completely off her wrists. Her own nipples pebbled in the humid air of the bath and in arousal as Tissaia kneeled before her. The Great Tissaia De Vries was on her knees, naked, except for a thin robe, and in prime position for all sorts of salacious activities. She looked up at her through dark lashes as she shimmied the fabric over Yennefer’s hips and let it fall to the floor. Slowly, seductively, she stood. Yennefer was never more thankful than now to have at least 4 inches on the older sorceress. “You’re thinking so loud, I can see what you want.” Tissaia whispers against her. Tissaia takes a step back and looks back toward the tub. With a wave of her hand, the water is refreshed and steaming. “You will not get that from me tonight, Piglet.” A solid punch to the gut. “You are far too inebriated. You would have regrets in the morning.” Yennefer takes a step toward her and Tissaia mirrors one step back. Yennefer reaches out to touch her, “I could never regret...” “You have already regretted me.” Tissaia interrupts. Yennefer may be drunk, but even she could hear the undercurrent of hurt. “Bathe. I trust you can manage that. You may sleep in my chambers tonight, I worry about the stability of your portals in your state. If you are still here come morning, we can discuss what has happened tonight.” With a nod of finality, she took a wide step around her and slipped quietly through the door into her bedroom. Well, this was not how she imagined this night going. Yennefer let out a long exhale and stepped carefully into the hot tub. The scent of lilac and gooseberries surrounded her and a smile stretched across her cheeks; Tissaia remembered. The warm, wetness that enveloped her did nothing to quell the throbbing between her legs. A devilish smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. If Tissaia was going to leave her wanting, she would suffer the same fate. Yennefer dunked her head below the surface and made quick work of washing her hair. She surveyed the soaps and oils and settled on a sweet vanilla, a scent entirely Tissaia. She palmed the oil and slowly started massaging it into her arms and down her legs, lowering her mental barriers as she worked. Her fingers skimmed back up her thighs and ghosted over her breasts to work the kinks in her neck. The pressure in the juncture of her shoulder was just right, and she allowed herself a small moan. A sharp knock at the door followed. “Are you alright?” Tissaia asked behind the door with mild concern. “I’m doing quite fine, thanks! I haven’t managed to drown yet!” Yennefer called back, voice laced with sarcasm. She could almost see the Rectoress roll her eyes through the door. If she only knew what was coming. Yennefer let her presence expand and open up to Tissaia, should she reach out in curiosity. And she let her fingers continue. Gathering more oil, she liberally applied it to her belly. Practiced fingers swirled the viscous fluid up to her chest and around her erect nipples. She circled them slowly, grazing dusky peaks with her fingernails before giving firm tugs. She envisioned Tissaia over her, hair unpinned and flowing freely down her naked form. Her clever mouth sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh of her breast. Another pleasured moan escaped her lips. And the sound of something crashing to the floor. A book maybe? Yennefer didn’t let it stop her. Her fingers voyaged south and teased the outside of her folds. She pictured it clearly and pushed the images forcefully out: She threaded her fingers through chestnut locks and guided Tissaia downward. Licks, nips, and kisses in trails from her chest to her mound where she firmly held the sorceress right where she wanted her. Tissaia nuzzled the trimmed nest of curls before diving in. A slow, tantalizing lick from her base to her clit ending with a firm swirl of the tongue around her pearl. Yennefer’s fingers worked tirelessly to the images she conjured. Her breaths came in quick pants and she was already so close to the edge. “Oh, Tissaia!” She moaned once more. This time, the scandalized gasp was perfectly clear from behind the door. Yennefer slid a finger easily inside, and then another. A sigh, a gasp, a plea. ‘You are being entirely inappropriate.’ Tissaia interrupts in her head, breathless and strained. Yennefer pushes through more explicit images. She imagines taking all of the control from the rigid Rectoress. She shows her vivid images of binding her to the bed using silken scarves, blindfolding her, and pleasuring her with her mouth. She shows Tissaia visions of herself crashing into orgasm after orgasm and screaming Yennefer’s name. This was enough to push Yennefer over the edge and she came hard around her fingers, Tissaia’s name on her lips like a ringing hallelujah. ’Oh!’ Very well satisfied on all fronts, Yennefer drained the bath and walked out into Tissaia’s bedchamber. The older woman sat perched stiffly at the edge of her bed, cheeks blazing and shifting uncomfortably. Yennefer stood tall in front of her with a salacious smile wide across her face, nude, and dripping water all over the floor. Tissaia rose to the challenge and glared up at her with her chin jut out. “Are you proud of yourself?” Yennefer takes that final step forward and straddles her lap, wrapping her arms loosely around her neck and twirling  the wispy hairs she finds at her nape. She can feel the heat radiating off of Tissaia through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Boldly, she thrusts her fingers into Tissaia’s chignon and with a quick pull, her long hair tumbles free. Tissaia fists the sheets in a white-knuckled grasp to keep her hands still as she drops her head against Yennefer’s shoulder. In a rare moment of vulnerability, she lets her hair fall in a curtain to shield her face. “Yennefer, please.” And even Tissaia is uncertain if she is begging her to stop or continue. Yennefer grinds her core against Tissaia’s thigh and forcefully pushes her back into the bed, pinning her wrists above her head. “Touch me Tissaia.” She commands as she nuzzles the column of her throat. She can feel her swallow hard before she is jolted backward with a conjured electric current. The shock is only mildly painful, and gives her enough of a hint to remove her person completely from above Tissaia. “If you don’t want me, all you have to do is say so.” Yennefer bites out with the sting of rejection quite clear. Yennefer turns her back and scoots to the very edge of the bed. Tissaia follows and gently rests her hand at her shoulder. “I will not be responsible for taking advantage of you. Please don’t put that on me.”  She whispers. She is met with a brooding silence and she sighs. Tissaia conjures a black nightgown and passes it over wordlessly and Yennefer snatches it angrily from her hands. “I’m sorry.” Tissaia tries again as Yennefer yanks the fabric over her head. Again she is met with stubborn silence. “At least stay tonight. Tomorrow, you may leave if you wish. Yennefer, I just want you to be safe.” Yennefer huffs, but crawls into the bed and snuggles deep under the covers. Tissaia lets a small smile pull at the corner of her mouth at the childish antics. She returns to her designated side and begins the process of plaiting her hair when a hand at her elbow brings her to a halt. “Don’t.” Yennefer whispers. “I like it down.” Tissaia concedes the request and settles in next to Yennefer. The air between them is measurably tense. After what seemed like years, Yennefer closed the distance between them and wrapped her pinky around Tissaia’s. “I feel like steaming horse shit.” Tissaia rolls over to fully face her. “Come here.” Yennefer scoots in and snuggles deep into Tissaia’s open and waiting arms. Her much larger frame tucks under Tissaia’s chin and curls around her legs, enveloping Tissaia entirely. A contented smile graces her face as she feels slender fingers begin to scratch her scalp. Tissaia begins to hum a slow, calming melody beneath her and its effect is instantaneous. Yennefer feels her eyes grow heavy, and for once, she is happy in the arms that hold her. Just as she’s about to fall over the edge, the thinks she hears Tissaia whisper, “Stay with me, please. It’s time to stop running.” She thinks maybe this time she will.