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jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years ago

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Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend.

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you.

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies.

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared.

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush.

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too."

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them.

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon.

But you weren't.

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you.

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself.

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment.

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name."

#soulmate #soulmates #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #ushijima x you #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou fic #tendou x reader #tendou satori #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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techno-woman · 4 years ago

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WELCOME TO THE FRIEZA FORCE, MY DEAR

(FRIEZA X READER)

::The following story takes place after DragonBall Fighterz villains arc. I do not own any DBZ characters. Enjoy the story!::

It has been over a month since you had returned to your own body after Frieza kicked you out despite you accepting his offer to join him. Honestly you didn’t have much to keep you here on earth anyway since bad luck had a habit of shooting down your spirits. It all started when you had graduated from high school; your dad suffered from a stroke and eventually succumbed to it within two months, your brother was killed in a car crash with your mother two years later, and just recently you had broken up with your boyfriend whom you’ve been dating for four years after finding out that he was cheating on you with another woman. You’ve at least managed to keep your job at a fast food restaurant thanks to your hard working attitude,however; your heart has been closed off since the breakup and you were tired of all the misery in your life so far that it wouldn’t have even mattered if you ended up robbed, murdered or worse.

Then one day you found yourself linked up with Frieza. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how much of an evil prick he was after the way he spoke to you for the first time. He was obviously not a happy camper when he noticed you were controlling his body and not him. Although you couldn’t necessarily blame him since body snatching wasn’t your cup of tea either. Frieza had openly expressed his disgust towards you many times and while his attitude may have annoyed you to no end you somehow oddly find some comfort in it. Perhaps it was because you too had days where you just had to let out your frustrations though it was all in private. You’ve powered through mentally with Frieza because the sting of your ex’s betrayal was still fresh. But working with the tyrant hasn’t been so terrible not when you had experienced his amazing power which would’ve been found in a comic book or a superhero movie. You felt invincible, untouchable almost like a god and you loved it especially the flying part.

The link you had with Frieza had become more stronger with each battle and along the way you encountered Nappa, Captain Ginyu and the Ginyu force, Cell, Goku, Vegeta, Krillin,and the rest of the z fighters. Through them you experienced each of their own unique powers and got along with most of them. Even Frieza was showing subtle signs of him warming up to you which you were grateful for. But deep down you couldn’t help but develop some attachments to the emperor of the universe himself. You weren’t sure if he had felt the same way as you when he had offered you a position in his army after you both took out Android 21 and you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t make a good soldier since part of Frieza’s requirements to joining the Frieza force included strength which you weren’t confident about despite how well you were doing with the link. But of course if it meant that you could start your life anew and leave your misfortune behind then you’d gladly take it. Then afterwards Frieza had warmly welcomed you to join his forces when Android 21 was taken down at last. You smiled at the thought of being in space looking at the stars and planets while riding in a spaceship boldly going where no human has ever gone before. Suddenly Frieza, Cell, Ginyu and Nappa immediately began charging up when their powers had returned to them, getting ready to attack Goku and the gang and before you knew it Frieza chased you out of his body so he could fight Goku without you holding him back. Devastated and heartbroken at the tyrant’s actions you took to the skies leaving Frieza to exact his revenge on his sayian nemesis.

That was the last time you saw him and you never got to tell him how you felt about him. You shook your head as you headed into work wiping away your tears deciding that you were better off without him anyway. You didn’t have much to offer to a guy like that except for your loyalty and love which you doubted that he would be capable of. Two hours in and the events of last month had already been pushed to the back of your mind as you worked hard cleaning dishes, prepping up food, and sweeping up the floor. The lights flickered faintly above and you thought to yourself that the light bulbs must be starting to give out. You were wiping down the tables when a random guy came up to you in an attempt to flirt with you but you ignored him completely.

“What time do you get off, cutie?” The man asked you.

“Sorry sir but I cannot indulge such information to someone I do not know.” You said with a customer friendly tone which surprised you internally to hear such words coming from your own mouth. Apparently you picked up some of Frieza’s elegant speech pattern while you were linked with him.

The man looked surprised in a happy way. “Fancy way of talking, eh? Then how about you let me take you somewhere fancy to eat after you get off?”

“No thank you.” You said as you started to get irritated with him. The lights above you started to flicker.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I can treat you real nice.” The guy insisted.

“Please sir, I have work to do and I am not interested. Have a nice day.” You told him as you kept your tone friendly while your temper was rising. The lights flickered faster causing several of the staff and customers to look in confusion.

“C’mon don’t tell me that a pretty face like you already has a boyfriend?” Inquired the guy.

Now it was starting to get too personal for your liking as the memories of your ex flowed into your mind like a stream of water. Anger was bubbling up as the flickering lights intensified causing everyone to become concerned and even scared. “That is no concern of yours. Now please leave me alone and have a nice day.” You clenched your teeth as you managed to say in a sweet tone while keeping a grip on your temper. You were getting ready to head back into the kitchen when you felt a hand grab your arm and pulled you back.

“What’s the matter, bitch?” The guy hissed. “You think you’re too good to have a good time with guys like me?” He smelled like he hasn’t bathed in a week and his grip on you grew tighter.

Your coworkers and a few customers saw this and attempted to get him to let you go. But the guy insisted that he was your boyfriend and that it was no one’s business.

“SHUT UP JACKASS! YOU’RE NO ONE TO ME!” You yelled angrily at him and at that same time the lights that were flickering above you exploded. Everyone in the store screamed and covered their heads as glass fell upon them. A fire broke out causing several staff members to grab fire extinguishers and put out the fire.

The customers ran out screaming in panic as you were also running out of the store. You didn’t know what was going on but you did know that this had never happened in the restaurant before. So why now? Sounds of police sirens were drawing close as was the firefighters and you just hoped that no one got hurt. Suddenly you felt arms grabbing you by the waist and you were then carried off by someone.

“Hey! Let me go!” You exclaimed. “Put me down! What do you think you’re doing!”

“It’s just us, human!” Said a familiar gruff yet friendly voice.

You turned to see none other than Captain Ginyu of the Ginyu force. “Ginyu!” You cried as you instantly gave him a hug.

“Don’t forget about us, sheila!” Jeice said happily.

“Hey Jeice, Burter, Recoome, Guldo! It’s great to see you guys again!” You grinned as you saw the rest of the Ginyu force. “But how did you know where to find me?”

Ginyu pointed to the scouter on his face. “We detected your ki with these and by the looks of it your ki skyrocketed to another level!”

You looked at him confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Didn’t you see what had just happened at the restaurant?” Burter asked pointing back to where your job was.

You felt your heart sink as you came to realize what they were talking about. “I did that?”

“You sure did!” Recoome said with a smile.

“But that’s never happened before. I don’t understand why it would happen now.” You said still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Ginyu looks at you with a sympathetic expression on his face. “Perhaps it’s because you were linked with Lord Frieza and that his ki has awakened yours.”

You looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“That’s the only explanation that I can think of. But let’s get you to Lord Frieza first.” Ginyu said taking off into the sky with the others.

“So Frieza wants to see me now after he booted me out?” You said in a sarcastic tone.

“My apologies, huma-“

“It’s Y/n.” You interrupted Ginyu.

“Y/n. Please forgive Lord Frieza. He has been humiliated twice by Goku and needed to get his revenge for it.” Ginyu said.

You huffed. “Did he succeeded?”

“All I can say is that it ended in a stalemate.”

“Figures.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t mean to speak out sir but is no one going to say anything about y/n here being a woman?” Guldo asked.

“Is there something wrong with that?” You asked with a small smile.

“No. Not at all. Just surprised is all.” Guldo said.

Minutes later aboard Frieza’s ship....

Frieza stood by the window as you entered with the Ginyu force leading ahead.

“Lord Frieza, we’ve brought the human with us.” Ginyu said as he bowed.

“Excellent work, Captain Ginyu.” Frieza said in a happy tone while turning slowly to face you. “It has been awhile my dear. You look so much lovelier in person.” He smiles his usual smile that you had come to recognize as his causal expression.

“You don’t seem surprised that I am a girl.” You said observering him and then noticed his tail wiggling about almost like Frieza was glad to see you in the flesh.

“I had Nappa keep a close eye on you afterwards since Saiyans can be easily passed off as humans when their tails are well hidden that is.” Frieza said as he approached you.

“Well no wonder why Nappa has been absent lately.” Guldo mumbled.

You turned your head to glare at Ginyu and the others. “Scouter my ass. You already knew where I was at, didn’t you?”

“Easy Y/n, we weren’t lying about the scouters picking up your ki level. Besides even with Nappa we aren’t familiar with the city you were living in.” Ginyu said.

Frieza cleared his throat getting your attention back onto him who was directly standing in front of you face to face. “As I was saying; I had ordered Nappa to watch over you after the Android 21 incident. When you left I sensed a slight change in your ki and made a mental note to look into it after I delt with that damned Saiyan Goku.”

“I was told that it was a stalemate.” You said.

Frieza grimaced. “It would not have been such a stalemate if Cell hadn’t tried to steal my glory for the last time.” His tail curled up much like how a fist would ball up in anger.

“Did you....kill him?” You asked.

“No, of course not. Goku’s eldest son already did him in with Maijin Buu.” Frieza said. “But enough of that. I believe we have much to discuss about your future here on the Frieza force.”

“Thanks but there’s a concern that I’d like to address with you. Namely my sudden ki rising. Captain Ginyu said that it was the result of our souls being linked together. Is it true?” You asked.

Frieza watched you before motioning for Ginyu and the others to leave the room. They did so without hesitation and now it was just you and him alone. “Indeed it is as you were told. The slight increase of your ki didn’t happen when you and I first met but after destroying Android 21 was when it changed. I have surmised that while you were linked with me your ki was being amplified by mine thus causing it to grow with each battle we’ve faced. Though it is not as strong as mine it’ll at least give you a bit of an edge to defend yourself with.”

“How long do you think it’ll last?” You asked.

Frieza closed his eyes and sighed in annoyance. “Don’t you understand what this means exactly? I’m saying this is permanent. That this newly awakened ki is what you’ll be living with from now on.”

You were dumbfounded at this. You now had powers of your own and yet you were unsure about how to handle it. Or if you could handle it. “Oh boy.” You covered your face with your hands as you rubbed your eyes with them. “This is a lot to take in.”

“For you I have no doubt that it is.” Frieza said flicking his tail casually. “Fortunately you will have plenty of time getting use to it in my army.”

“I probably might but there’s also the issue of controlling it. Before the Ginyu force picked me up I was getting upset with this one guy trying to make a pass at me and when I lost my temper the lights exploded above us.” You told him.

Frieza hummed with curiosity. “Certain emotions often trigger such power like yours. Perhaps that will be something we can work on together.” His tail then slowly wraps around your waist as he pulls your body into his. “I’m sure that you will find it most enjoyable.”

You blushed at how close you were to him and even more so when his tail pulsed. “Frieza? Just to be honest with you, I’m still upset with you for kicking me out.”

“I had a score to settle with Goku. You of all people should understand that. Especially with the amount of time that we’ve spent together sharing the same body.” Frieza said in a stern tone as he took your chin into his hand. “It’s Y/n, yes?”

You nodded.

Frieza smiled his mischievous and cruel smile. “Welcome to the Frieza force, my dear y/n.”

#dragonball fighterz #frieza x reader #dbz #frieza

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nocturna-iv · 4 years ago

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002 Huma

Hi luv!

About this ask:

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

When of if I started shipping it: “What’s my Name?”. The first time I saw D2 and that song started it all fit perfectly for me. They are my OTP.

My thoughts: I think I've said it countless times. But Huma is a rare ship. The idea of a female character and leader with a male character totally devoted to her is rare. Add to that the fact that the female character is dominant and has delicate features and small stature while the male character is submissive and is bigger and visually stronger... it is much rarer. They respect and care for each other. Despite the fact that in D2 Uma is technically the villain, she doesn’t suffer betrayal, mockery, hatred, abandonment, or deception by Harry (something very common between the female villain and her romantic interest in the media). There are so much respect and affection between them. Oh, and passion, a lot of passion. As individual characters, they are incredibly unique. And I love them! But such a couple put to the delight of all of us is a gem. Bonus points because Uma is a sea witch and Harry is a pirate. Thousands of bonus points. That touches on more topics that I love (like the romance between human and non-human). They are also an interracial and queer ship. I love them. They have it all.

What makes me happy about them: The way Harry looks at Uma and the way she smiles when looking at him. That sums up everything they are. And it makes me so happy.

What makes me sad about them: The cowardice of Disney, Descendants, or whoever called the shots by not making Huma OFFICIAL. That because of someone there are people who believe that it’s canon that Harry and Mal were dating. How dirty they played with Harry in D3 making him an easy flirt. The obvious intention behind the scene between Audrey and Harry at the end of D3.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: Any fic that puts Harry with another character (usually Mal or Reader) where Uma is toxic and the villain of the story (well, I don't like it when the Reader or OC is technically Uma but white).

Things I look for in fanfic: Uma Top, Uma Dom (my favorites tags hahaha). The chaos Huma brings to Auradon and the Auradon Prep rules. Non-sexual but therapeutic BDSM with Huma. I have very rarely read it and it is pure gold.

My kinks:

Harry Hook: Alpha sub, brat, breath play, biting fetich, choking, cupping, dom, degrader, exhibitionist, knife play (hook play?), owner, pet, praise kink, prey (primal), rigger, sadistic, slave, submissive, switch, tentacle fetich.

Uma: Brat tamer, biting fetich, Dom, electrostimulation (electro-wand, feel like a little sting), exhibitionist, Immobilization, masochist, mistress, owner, hunter (primal), orgasm control, sensation play, scratching,

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Uma: Ben, Jay, Gil, Evie, Lonnie, Carlos, Harriet

Harry: Ben, Jay, Gil, Lonnie, Carlos, Aziz.

My happily ever after for them: Uma as the official Queen of the Island, part of the Council, working alongside Ben. Harry exploring the seas, every time Uma is not on the ship, he’s the captain. Harry, Gil, and the rest of the crew going on great adventures (let's add Jay and Lonnie here). Uma managing to appear every day and at any time on the ship, because as long as they are at sea, she can use her magic to be there. For the rest of their lives, they continue to adopt new crew members, young abandoned and lonely children, giving them a home. (And this has always been my intention, it is the end towards where "Pirate Goddess" points my first fics of Huma).

I really love this ship. They have outnumbered my other OTPs, trust me, that's impressive.

Thanks for the ask, anon!

#ask game #uma descendants #harry hook #descendants #huma #harry descendants #uma daughter of ursula #huma descendants

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dani-luminae · 4 years ago

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002 Baudrey

Thank you!

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when or if I started shipping it: I kinda started pity-shipping them in D1, like “holy cow you two as a couple deserve way better than this.” They were together for like thirty minutes of the movie, just to be an obstacle for Mal. I didn’t really start ship-shipping them until “Audrey’s Diary” merch book came out and proved that Audrey still managed to be a caring and attentive partner even with immense social pressure and her grandmother being how she is.

my thoughts: BAUDREY DESERVED BETTER. Also I don’t know why people go “oh Ben secretly hated Audrey the whole time” as if that isn’t wildly out-of-character for him.

What makes me happy about them: They’re so cute together!

What makes me sad about them: That canon made Audrey the villain in a desperate attempt to go “see, she was bad for Ben!” Meanwhile, Ben has to marry a girl who couldn’t care less about him.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I dunno, I haven’t searched for a lot of Baudrey fanfic, because so much of it is tagged “Baudrey” when it’s really Bal. Wait, that counts, right?

things I look for in fanfic: Baudrey happy ending

My kinks: yeah, still no

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Chad clearly loves Audrey, so I’d be happy with them together. As for Ben, I would want him to be with Jay, Huma, or Gil, in that order

My happily ever after for them: Happily married, ruling as beloved king and queen

Thank you for the ask! Ask box is open! Give me 001 with a fandom for thoughts, 002 with a ship for thoughts, 003 with a character for thoughts, or 004+two fandoms for a crossover OTP!

#disney descendants #descendants #ben descendants #audrey descendants #audrey deserves better #ben deserves better #anti bal #anti-bal

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c-rose2081 · 4 years ago

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Dragon Colds & Rose Petals

Love Like Dragons AU

Bevie | Huma (implied) | Gildry | Mal & Audrey BROTP

—

Evie Grimhilde was a happily married woman. She had been for nearly three months now, and it was marital bliss. But there was a small part of her that was still a lonely, single, Dragon mom. So when Ben walked in on her that day, struggling to keep the human thermometer in Mal’s mouth to take her temperature, he laughed.

Mal, her best friend and a five year old Isle Dragon, had been sick for the past two days. Evie wasn’t sure what brought it on, as Audrey - Ben’s Aurorian Dragon - didn’t seem to have anything. And of course that small, single, lonely dragon mom part of her reared it’s head. What if Mal was terminally ill? What if she died? What if Evie would wake up tomorrow and her best friend wouldn’t be there? It nearly sent her into hysterics. Coddling the cranky, tired spike menace was the only thing that could calm her.

Naturally, Mal hated it.

Ben, thankfully, was a level headed man, and he rescued poor Mal and quarantined her in another room. He then held Evie to his chest and quietly stroked her hair as she rattled off every possible dragon disease she found on the internet and their outcomes.

“I have a friend who’s a vet,” Ben told Evie when she had finally calmed down, holding her close as to keep her from spending the night with Mal - who was no doubt sleeping, “she comes and looks at Audrey every few months, I’m sure she’d be happy to give Mal a checkup,”

And so Evie agreed that a vet visit would be the best option, rather then trusting DragonMD. Of course, she wasn’t aware that Ben and this ‘vet’ were very close friends. Let alone that this ‘vet’ was a woman who he was apparently quite comfortable with. Uma was a pretty, muscly, dark skinned sort with long turquoise and white braids. She stood at least a head above Evie in height, and when she pictured a ‘vet’, Uma was quite far from what she was imagining.

“Uma!” Ben greeted with an open hug, “thanks for coming,”

“You’re lucky, Ben. I just got back into town,”

“Uma works in freight,” Ben explained to Evie, resting an arm around her waist as Uma pulled a rather large black duffle in behind her, “she travels a lot; it’s why you didn’t meet her at the wedding. Uma, this is my wife, Evie. I wrote to you about her,”

“Yeah; all good things thankfully. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Uma replied, Evie smiling in kind and taking her hand in a firm shake. The grip was incredibly strong, and the skin on her palms was callous, “Ben, I hope you don’t mind. But I brought Gil.”

“Who’s Gil?” Evie asked, brows popping up. She expected Gil to be a person, or perhaps a child. Having a large, horn-backed dragon wander in with a rose in his beak wasn’t what Evie expected at all. Like the day she had met Audrey, the girl yearned for her sketchbook, “oh my goodness,”

“I told you. Uma is great with dragons,” Ben laughed, “this is Gil,”

“My boyfriends dragon, actually,” Uma told Evie.

“I’ve never seen anything like him!” Evie exclaimed, jostling as ‘Gil’ nearly knocked her over when he came to bump the side of her leg with a wing.

“Sorry,” the sailor groaned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the dragon by the back of the neck, “he’s really good with people, and gentle as they come. But he’s just so big,”

“What kind of dragon is he?” Evie asked, kneeling down to have a better look. Gil, unlike both Mal and Audrey, was built like a narrow turtle, and was armored like a tank. He had short legs with four toes each, and an articulated shell covering his nape, all the way down to his back legs. His tail was stubby, but sprouted four impressively long spikes, and his face was wide eye’d with a beak rather then a toothy maw. Gil’s wings, Evie noticed, folded inelegantly against the outside of his shell, a bit like messy accordion blinds. No doubt they were quite large in order to help such a bulky creature fly.

“Gil is a Coastal Dragon. They usually live out by the sea, in the sand,” Uma explained, heaving the creature to the side where he flopped to his belly unbothered, still holding the bright red flower in his beak, “Harry picked him up when he was traveling, and he’s been with us ever since. He’s a lazy beast,” Uma complained, tapping the creature’s shell with a boot, “doesn’t do jack-shit other then lay around all day,”

Evie couldn’t help but laugh at this, only to jump as Gil made a noise. It sounded almost like a tired, sad foghorn.

“He’s been crying like that all morning,”Uma drawled, “the minute he figured out I was coming here, he wouldn’t let me leave without him,”

“Why would he do that?” Evie asked, frowning slightly in confusion as Ben rubbed the back of his head and Uma glanced at him expectantly.

“Princess! Your boyfriend’s here!” Ben called out, his voice echoing through the tall vaulted ceiling of their house. Puzzled for a moment, Evie turned as Audrey’s birdsong reached her ear. It only took a second before the pink bullet - wings fully outstretched - glided into the room. Gil, who had previously been laying down, leapt up faster then Evie ever could’ve imagined for such a stocky beast. His accordion wings unfurled like a whip, and Uma tugged Evie backwards a step as he gave one powerful flap and was in the air.

“Sweet Merlin, he’s massive,” Evie breathed in wonder, watching as Gil captured Audrey in a mid-flight embrace, enfolding her between his arms and resting his large head on her crest, “are they...?”

“Together,” Ben confirmed with a nod, “it was a surprise to us to, once we figured it out,”

“Gil is romantic, the big lug,” Uma chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as Gil transferred the rose he’d been keeping to Audrey, who somehow managed to tuck it behind her ear flap in a very teenage-girl like manner, “he gets it from Harry, I think. Sorry about your rose bushes, Ben.” Uma admitted, grimacing slightly as Ben merely chuckled.

“It’s alright. The gardeners will take care of it,”

“Right then. So, you told me you had a sick dragon here?” Uma asked Evie, “and it’s clearly not Audrey,”

“My dragon, Mal, has been sick for a few days now,” Evie told the woman, returning to fretting over her best friend, “She’s really dull and tired, and even more cranky then usual,”

“Hm, that could be a number of things,” Uma pondered, heaving her black duffle up over one shoulder, “what breed is she?”

“An Isle Dragon. At least I think she is. I got the egg as a gift. Mom didn’t ever tell me where she got it from,”

“Well, let’s get to it then. I want out of here before Gil starts mimicking Audrey’s love songs,”

And so the trio left the foyer, heading upstairs into the large upper floor. Ben had made Mal her own special quarantine room. Audrey’s claw marks were all over the door’s painted exterior, showing where she’d been trying to get in earlier.

“I’ll have to talk to that girl,” Ben mumbled at reaching the door, ruffling his hair and groaning at the idea of having to fix the damage. Audrey wasn’t normally destructive, and Evie thought maybe she was coming down with something like Mal had. But Uma merely shook her head.

“It’s only natural,” she explained, opening the door and flicking on the light, “Audrey and Mal have probably already formed a family unit. It’s normal for one dragon to comfort another in times of pain or illness,”

“But Mal and Audrey quarrel constantly,” Evie complained, “they never get along,”

“Maybe so, but Dragons aren’t solitary in the wild. They build family units to survive. You did the right thing though, keeping Audrey out of here,” Uma admitted, kicking the door closed with a boot. Mal was laying in her basket, snoozing the day away unbothered by their entrance.

“I’m going to go call mom and dad,” Ben said to Evie quietly, “see if I can’t get someone down here to fix the door, and the bushes. You’ll be ok here with Uma?”

“Yeah. Love you,”

Sharing a quick kiss on the lips , Ben gave a half wave to Uma before skirting back out the door and vanishing.

“You two are good together,” Uma commented a little while later, removing a stethoscope from her bag and slinging it around her neck, “I was surprised when Ben said he was getting married,”

“Oh?”

Sinking down onto a low stool, Evie watched as Uma very carefully checked Mal’s heartbeat, “why do you say that?”

Uma switched the stethoscope for an ear tool as she began checking Mal’s ear holes.

“I dunno; it just never seemed like he could find the right fit. Hell, even we tried it out once,” Uma admitted with a laugh. This caused Evie’s stomach to drop like a rock. She didn’t mean for the green eye’d monster to make an appearance, but she couldn’t help it. After all, it had only been a few months, and she was nothing like Uma.

“Uh...why didn’t it work out? You and Ben?”

“Ah, we aren’t anything alike, really,” Uma said, satisfied with Mal’s ears and digging around in her bag for a moment, “I was always gone, you know? And of course Ben has his parents business to worry about. He needed someone who could keep up with him. Ah,” finding what she was looking for, Uma removed a small ‘T’ shaped device from the bag, “let’s just take the temperature,”

With a beep, Uma looked at the little digital screen and nodded. She put her tools away, removing a stuffed toy from inside her bag and tucking it under one of Mal’s fat arms.

“You, Evie, seem like just the right type for him,” Uma insisted with a sharp nod, rising from her place on the floor and wiping her hands on her jeans, “as for Mal, I suspect a cold is to blame for this. Where does she normally sleep?”

“Uh, up in the rafters above my bed. She used to sleep next to me, but I share a bed with Ben now. Audrey usually sleeps on her perch,”

“Ah. I suggest maybe installing a heat lamp up there, or building a nesting box. I think she’s getting to cold at night. Dragons are sensitive to that sort of thing,”

“I didn’t know,” Evie admitted, “thank you, Uma,”

“Anytime. I love Dragons, and Ben is still a great friend so I’ll help him out when I can. Anyway, Mal should be back to her normal self in a few days. Keep her warm and eating normally, and if anything changes, call me again and I’ll come back,”

“Can Audrey be allowed back in?” Evie asked, holding the door open for Uma to leave as the girl shook her head.

“No. Keep Mal in here and resting until she’s closer to her normal self. No need to risk Audrey catching whatever she has.”

“Ok. I can do that,” Evie nodded, following Uma back downstairs. Ben was standing in the yard out front, looking over the trampled rose bushes. Audrey and Gil were cuddled up within the broken branches, warm and content in a nest of prickly thorns and velvet petals.

“I think Gil might be more romantic then you, Ben,” Evie joked, looping her arm through her husbands as the man made an offended noise in his throat.

“So you want rose petals?” He asked, “I can do that,”

“Mhm, whatever you say,”

“So how’s Mal? Everything ok?”

“She’ll be just fine,” Uma restated, “Evie knows what needs to be done. As for you, Harry wants to get together at some point for a guys night.”

“Will do. I’ll call him and Jay when I have time,”

Bobbing her head in understanding, Uma gently prodded Gil with a toe through the nest, causing him to lift his head groggily.

“Alright, big fella. Kiss your girlfriend goodbye, we need to get going,”

Gil gave a sad little moan and Uma shook her head, “no complaints. I’m the captain here. Now kisses, and let’s go,”

Evie couldn’t help her little ‘awe’ as Gil reluctantly gave Audrey a little cheek nudge before standing and romping out of the bushes unhappily. Ben picked his own dragon up from the thorns, cradling her like a baby as she wailed dramatically.

“Do you cry like that every time I leave the house?” Evie asked as Uma hauled Gil into her Jeep, leaving poor Audrey heartbroken and hanging limply off Ben’s arm.

“No,” Ben insisted, using his free hand to grasp Evie’s as he gave it a squeeze, “I’m even worse.”

—

A/N: So...this is officially an AU! I’m calling it the Love Like Dragons AU. Basically Auradon is just a normal city (no prince and princesses, no pirates, ect.). Ben is the heir to his wealthy parents business rather then being a King. And the only ‘magical’ thing in Auradon is the dragons part of it. If you have any questions or suggestions for the AU, ping me :3

#descendants fanfiction #disney descendants #descendants #dragons #fanfiction #mal bertha #audrey rose #ben florian #evie grimhilde #uma daughter of ursula #alternate universe #love like dragons au

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jotunheimsaga · 2 months ago

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Sigyn Chapter 8

The rest of Jess' break, she sat quietly by the fireplace, unable to do much else besides comparing images on her phone. The symbols in Sigyn's journal were similar to the runes of the Elder and Younger Futhark, but not quite the same. She couldn't find an explanation for this writing, and she couldn't even begin to process what she had seen in the supply shed.

Kark walked into the lobby pushing a mop bucket when he noticed Jess looking somber on the chair. He set his chores aside to sit with her and see what was bothering her.

"Do you believe in magic?" It wasn't the most graceful start, but it was all Jess could think to say.

"Of course I do! It's not even a question."

Jess sat up taller in her seat, her reservations blown away by the conviction in his answer. "I saw Sigyn in the shed. It looked like ice came out of her hand."

"...Oh." His expression changed to mild alarm, and his words were fast, like someone quickly trying to bury a secret. "You mean...magic magic. No - I don't believe in that."

Jess' shoulders dropped. "You don't believe me."

"No!...Well... yes...I mean, no; I do not believe you. After all, magic isn't real around here, but people see things sometimes, it's nothing to worry about. Just a little hallucination. It's perfectly normal!" Kark poked her temple, trying to cheer her up and unaware his playfulness had the exact opposite effect.

It was foolish of Jess to think he'd do anything other than cover for Sigyn, being her number one employee for who-knows-how-long. Accepting defeat, she got up to get back to work and figure out how to put the events of the day behind her.

Kark couldn't ignore the forlorn look in her eyes as she walked away. How could his reassurance have made her feel worse? "You seem...disappointed."

Jess shrugged. "I guess it would be really cool if magic were real."

"You wouldn't be scared?"

"Of course not! It would be all of my childhood dreams coming true. Don't you remember what it was like when you were a kid, and you believed anything was possible? I remember growing up, waking up every day, thinking that something amazing was about to happen. I really miss that feeling."

There were many things Kark wanted to say, but duty forced him to hold his tongue. "I...don't think anything happening means that it's all good things. I know this story about a huma-Uh...a huge girl." He cleared his throat. "A girl, who wandered away from her village one day and met this stranger from another world. Everything about him was strange, yet so enchanting, and they quickly fell in love. Do you know how it ended?"

"They lived happily ever after?"

"Nope. She died. It's a good example of-"

"Wait, how?"

"Hmm?"

"How did she die?"

"Oh...I don't know. She just kind of...dropped dead. Anyway the point is-"

"No offense, but that's kind of an awful story..."

"Yeah." Kark rubbed the back of his neck. "Sigyn's the better storyteller between the two of us. My point is: maybe not having magic isn't the worst thing."

As hard as Kark tried to drive the point home, Jess couldn't accept it. Believing there was more to the world than met the eye was a hope that had gotten her through the bleakest, dullest nights. She was not about to let that go, no matter how many 'hallucinations' she had. No one else needed to believe her as long as she could prove it to herself.

Once Jess left to continue working, Kark went upstairs to have a word with his boss. It was no surprise to walk in on Sigyn half-naked with another girl in her bed, but he didn't expect who.

"Hey!" Sigyn greeted him as the girl laid kisses across her neck. "Look who decided to show up!"

"Angrboða," he said, though she barely acknowledged him while giving all her attention to Sigyn. "Glad to see you made it out okay."

She finally stopped to give him a defiant glare. "Why wouldn't I be? I've fought worse and came out better."

"Besides that one time with the horse," Sigyn reminded her as she rested her chin on her bare shoulder.

Angrboða rolled her eyes. She hated when Sigyn teased her about getting a black eye. "Everyone agreed that the stallion was insane."

Changing the subject, Sigyn suggested the three of them do something special tonight, in honor of Angrboða's arrival.

"Before we celebrate anything, I should let you know that Miss Mikkelson may be on to us."

Sigyn went rigid. "What?"

"She saw you just now in the supply shed. Using magic."

Before Sigyn had the chance to respond, Angrboða smacked her arm hard enough to sting. "This is what I'm talking about! You're not safe here. We already have the Vorðr to deal with, the last thing we need is a bunch of humans with pitchforks and torches!"

"That's not going to happen!" Sigyn got up from the bed before Angrboða could hit her again. "This place isn't the same as it was when we were younger. Humans don't believe in us anymore. They'd sooner believe the whole world had gone crazy. We are fine."

Angrboða wasn't convinced, but they had bigger issues at hand. "We still have to deal with the Vorðr. That threat is not going away. You can either sit around and wait for them, or you can take them by surprise-"

"I'm not going back!" Sigyn snapped. "I can't!"

"Your father still rambles about taking back the realms."

"That's all it is: rambles. He'd never get far."

"You don't think he won't try? You think he won't chuck bodies at Asgard's gates just to see them shake?"

"I will not be blamed! I tried to stop him, remember? I tried to warn everyone he was a senile old man unfit to rule, look where it landed me! If they want to listen to him and not me, let them feel the burn of their own fire."

Angrboða dropped her chin. "It's more than just words now. He took my sword, Sigyn."

The three of them fell into silence, only broken by Sigyn's dark laughter. "That's what this is all about. I should've known!" She snatched a rob from her closet and wrestled her arms through the sleeves. "All the lecturers you put me through about my fate and you never mentioned needing to get your sword back. Was that also part of my fate, or did you make it up on the spot?"

"I still believe it. With all of my heart and soul, and if you don't do something, he will use that sword!"

There was a burning intensity in Angrboða's eyes that Sigyn could not hold out against, and she had to avert her gaze. She had hounded Sigyn for years about what she believed was her fate, and what Sigyn believed was outdated, traditional nonsense. It was a tug-o-war that spanned most of their friendship, with neither side truly advancing.

In a firm voice, Sigyn addressed the room. "I'm not going back. I'll deal with the Vorðr when they come, and I'll get rid of Jess by the end of the week." She disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Kark rocked back and forth on his feet, abandoned in the quiet room with Angrboða. "At least some things are getting back to normal."

In the privacy of her bathroom, Sigyn could escape the conversation, but not the memories that came flooding back. She could still feel the sharp crack of her mother's palm against her cheek. Her father's fingers digging into her collarbone, forcing her onto her knees in front of a crowd of jeering onlookers. As his booming voice warned the dangers of treachery and betrayal, Sigyn remembered searching the crowd of faces, wondering who listened with earnestness, who bowed in fear to her father, or who pretended - if sound minds still existed at all.

She remembered a feeling. A restless anger that glowed brighter than a snowy landscape under the midday sun. A defiance that consumed her thoughts and spurred her to do more and more dangerous things. Back then, of course, she didn't know they were dangerous. A fog had settled in her brain that prevented her from thinking clearly. Maybe, things could have turned out differently...

Maybe, Kark wouldn't have had to shake her awake in the middle of the night. Maybe he wouldn't have had to drag her half-asleep through the halls, away from the growing chorus of cries and screams.

Maybe, all the bodies she had to step over would have still been alive.

#norse mythology #norwegian #mythology #mystery #fantasy story #fantasy series #writing #sigyn #chapters #creative writing #writers #writers on tumblr

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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Baby’s First Couple’s Therapy || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: Current

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

SUMMARY: Sometimes a wound needs to air out to heal.

CONTAINS: Brief references to parental abuse

Kelly Mackowski, their couples’ therapist, steepled her hands together over her lap as she looked at the pair. “I’ve met with each of you already and I think I’m getting a picture of you as a couple, but I’d like to start today by reviewing why you have chosen to come here.” Morgan, ever the dutiful student, thought she saw Kelly’s eyes settle on her and stiffened on the couch. Was she sitting too close to Deirdre? They were next to each other, and they were holding hands, but they weren’t in any laps or snuggled like they were at home. Was holding hands too clingy? Deirdre didn’t answer at once, though maybe that was because it had only been a few seconds. Morgan glanced sidelong at her and after a silent exchange of, do you want to go first? Do you? She spoke up.

“Well, we’ve had a traumatic couple of months, and in the worst of it, it came to my attention that we had developed an unhealthy dynamic stemming from my accident uh, eight and a half months ago. And we--well, I feel like we have made some good steps toward rectifying the situation and finding a better normal. I have a tiny house in the backyard that I go to for at least a couple of hours each day and one night out of the week, by myself, mostly to engage with my faith, which I’ve recently recommitted to, and work on some hobbies. And I’m back at school, for work, and that’s nice and gets me out of the house. And we’ve been able to talk a little about, you know, how my emotional instability towards the end of November was more of a statement on my own lack of internal support systems than anything else. And we’ve more or less regained our old physical intimacy boundaries. No sex yet, because I really just want to be a little more stabalized since it tends to make me emotional in general, but it’s still---it’s the best place to be, when she holds me.” Morgan paused and realized she was rambling, maybe even veering off track completely. “But there’s still more to unpack, obviously! And it just seemed like a good idea to do that with some uh, professional structure and, um, guidance.” She smiled, and then didn’t, realizing she was looking for approval that they weren’t here to gain.

Kelly nodded, revealing nothing. “Deirdre?” She prompted. “Can you talk about what you want out of this from your side?”

Deirdre had concluded, with great speed and unwavering resolve, that she hated therapy. As it turned out, talking about her feelings with anyone other than Morgan was a nightmare of strange design. And for all her attempts to create chaos and deflect and make Kelly “Macaroni”, or whatever her name was, emote with shock or fear...she remembered that she was here for Morgan, for their relationship. And she wanted it to get better, she wanted them to be better. All attempts deflated and she was left with the truth, which refused to leave her mouth in congruent sentences. Deirdre held Morgan’s hand just a little tighter, her gaze glued somewhere beyond Kelly’s unnervingly rigid stare—did she have to make eye contact all the damn time? The room was silent, save for a ticking clock, if it wasn’t filled with conversation. Deirdre found out the hard way that Kelly didn’t like silence very much, she’d always interject eventually. And as it turned out, Deirdre also hated Kelly.

When the question turned to her, she nearly hissed. She hated questions just as much as she hated Kelly. Or rather, she hated Kelly because the only things that ever left her mouth were questions. “I want us to be better, more secure.” Deirdre shifted. Her answer was far shorter than Morgan’s, and she wondered if she ought to be saying more. But what else was she supposed to say? What else was she supposed to want? Kelly scribbled something down on her notepad. Deirdre came to hate the way she wrote; like a bored cat with a couch, all scratching.

Kelly, ever impassive in a way that might have earned Deirdre’s respect if it was in any other setting, nodded and looked up. Deirdre squirmed. At this point, she would have preferred one of those smiles humans did when they were trying to be polite. “And is there any personal goal you hope to meet from these sessions?”

“Personally,” Deirdre stressed, “I would like us to be better.” Kelly scratched into her notepad again. Deirdre’s grip on Morgan’s hand tightened. She hated it here. And Kelly--question-asking, scratch-scratch-scratch note-taking Kelly, seemed to sense Deirdre’s unease and pivoted to Morgan. Once freed from the spotlight, Deirdre relaxed her grip just enough to stop crushing Morgan’s hand.

“You mentioned that there was more to unpack, Morgan? Is there anything specific that comes to mind?”

Morgan’s eyes went wide at Deirdre’s answer, or rather, lack of one. She wanted to look at her and keep pressing. She wanted to ask what they had gone over in her one-on-one session, if there was something she was hiding and didn’t feel comfortable sharing. But under Kelly’s look, she wondered if that was somehow overbearing. From Deirdre’s tightening grip, she could figure that Deirdre didn’t want her to pull away. A protective affection rushed up her chest and she put her other hand over Deirdre’s, encasing it gently and massaging the tight knuckles. In the brief silence before Kelly shifted attention, Morgan slipped Deirdre a quick look of confusion. What was that? What are you doing?

But then Kelly asked her question and Morgan found herself with too many nerves to juggle. She always did this when she was breaking in a new therapist and it always came to this stress point when she had to surrender her pride or sense of dignity in some way because focusing on trying to get an A+ in togetherness wasn’t very productive in getting to the goal she wanted to accomplish. Sighing, Morgan sagged against the couch and scooted close to Deirdre until they were hip to hip. Yeah, Kelly, this is how I wanna sit. You can give me longform analysis on that on week five when I know you better, she wanted to say. But instead, she thought, and then she tried…

“Personally, for just myself, I want some of that old security back. I want to be someone who doesn’t have to have her partner in the room in order to feel supported. And who doesn’t teeter on a nervous breakdown when I feel like Deirdre isn’t really here. I want to obtain a sense that we’re solid, even if we’re not perfect. Maybe if I could become someone who doesn’t need so much fucking reassurance all the time, that would be good.” She finished with a pained, bitter grin. Deirdre always did, when she was emotionally available, but Morgan felt the ghost of every well meaning, only half-teasing ‘clingy’ and ‘needy’ she’d ever heard. Her need simply was; a fact, just like the state of her body. But just like the level of the seas could change over time, so too could her need, maybe.

Kelly nodded, waiting for her to say more, and it was then that Morgan realized that she hadn’t really answered the question, and didn’t want to. “I just mean...un learning is hard. Talking about where our stuff comes from can feel like it’s impossible sometimes, and some coping mechanisms are hard to adopt and don’t work for everyone. And compromise takes time too. We’re so quick to give each other all or nothing, taking things only halfway might be a little wild too. But I wasn’t, uh, being specific.” There were too many places to start, and Morgan felt like she was doing all the talking for all three of them. She gave Deirdre another look as she gave her hand a careful squeeze. Are you here? Are you going to say something?

“I think those are some good goals to have, Morgan, and some good expectations.” Kelly said. “A relationship is a journey, one that will, inevitably, require changes. But in order for this to work, we all need to be on the same page and actively engaging. Deirdre, I know we’ve had some difficulties connecting, But I’d like to ask you again if you have any goals for yourself, as an individual? Or perhaps what it is you want out of your relationship?”

Deirdre met Morgan’s gaze, softening. Silently, she apologized and with a squeeze, she explained what Morgan already knew: that she didn’t like answering questions about herself. But she was trying. She would try. Yet, before she could confirm that her girlfriend understood their telepathic communications, she was back to answering Kelly and Deirdre begrudgingly looked back at the degrees and certifications framed on the wall. She wanted to say that there was nothing wrong with wanting assurances, or to feel supported and loved and understood--and that she would do all these things, gladly and happily and as many times as Morgan needed. She’d never minded it before, she certainly didn’t mind it now. It wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t bad--not to her--she’d wanted to say, and that she could feel that Morgan was trying to appease Kelly--and she didn’t have to do that. But she said nothing, hearing the echo of Kelly’s scratching in her head as her framed accolades merged into a toothy monster. What did Deirdre know? She wasn’t the one with the degrees and the training.

Kelly spoke to her again, and Deirdre stiffened instantly, reflexively dreading whatever Kelly would want her to answer next. Yes, they had difficulty connecting, because Deirdre didn’t want to connect, unless it was with her fist to Kelly’s unemoting face. She could, in fact, actively engage with a knife into Kelly’s stomach. Was that active enough for her? Her nostrils flared, her free hand curled into a fist. “I just told you my goals, you huma--” Deirdre froze. “Hum--” And faltered. Her anger died quickly. “Homunculus.” She shifted, shot Morgan another look of apology and tried her best to answer the question. “I’m sorry,” she coughed, “it--um--maybe it would be nice to have a hobby? Maybe I shouldn’t just be waiting around for Morgan to come back inside.” This wasn’t something she wanted in actuality, of course. But from what she could gather from the self-help books, this was something she should have. It was also something she had mentioned, in a practiced script, to Kelly in their private session. It was, in fact, the only personal detail she shared. She found one thing she was comfortable admitting and she would wear it out.

But it was Kelly’s second question that caught her unawares. “Excuse me?” Her face pulled together with confusion, then frustration. “I don’t want anything from Morgan. Not like--like a leech. I’m not dating Morgan because I want to take from her. I love her; I’m trying to give.” Deirdre’s leg bounced wildly up and down as unease wrapped around her. The offense she took at the question wasn’t founded, but the idea insulted her nonetheless. Questions of wants and desires often did.

But with the simple experience of one session under her belt, Kelly knew Deirdre’s annoyance well enough to greet it directly. “And is that how you view yourself in this relationship? As a leech?”

Deirdre’s bouncing leg morphed into an earthquake, the beginnings of a sceam burned in the pit of her lungs. Fuck you. Shut up. How dare you? Deirdre seethed, and then she didn’t. Morgan’s presence beside her served a gentle reminder of why she was here, and what she wanted--truly. Her leg ceased, she closed her eyes and breathed (In. Hold. Out), and she answered the question. “Yes.”

Kelly turned to her notepad briefly, scratching away. She looked up, nodded and leaned it; all signs to show an active listener, all things Deirdre did to let people assume she cared. Kelly was trying to encourage her, and she hated it. “Why do you think you feel that way, Deirdre?”

“Because that’s what people who want things are: leeches.” Deirdre was a smug with her answer, as though it was some grand truth. It wasn’t a personal thought! Not some ideology bred from trauma, not at all! Kelly ought to take her diplomas off the wall, she didn’t know anything. And then Deirdre froze. Morgan had just said she wanted reassurances, and Deirdre didn’t think Morgan was selfish, not once, not ever. She turned to her girlfriend, quick to rest a hand on her knee. “Not you. Not--” She turned back to Kelly. “I mean me, just me. It’s--” She swallowed. “It’s something that my family--the cult--” as Morgan and her had agreed on referring to it for Kelly’s sake “--says. And it--it’s true. It makes sense. I can’t, I--” How did she explain the dangers of desire for a banshee to a human? How did she explain that emotion could mean mass destruction? How did she explain her status as a thing? She deflated. “I want to be good to Morgan. I don’t want to hurt her, I don’t want to take from her. I don’t want to be a--” She looked up at Morgan; wet-eyed, ashamed. She dropped her gaze to the grey rug.

Kelly spoke up, gentle. “Morgan, would you like to tell Deirdre what your thoughts are on this?”

“Yes,” Morgan barely gave Kelly the time to finish. She didn’t have it in her to worry about seeming any particular way. She cupped Deirdre’s face and wiped the corners of her eyes. “Hey…” She said softly. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. But you know what I’m gonna say next, right?” She smiled softly, her face all compassion. “You’re a person, Deirdre Dolan. My favorite person. And maybe this isn’t the best time to work on this particular part of yourself. But you can, and you should, and you do want things. You need to. Everyone does. It doesn’t make you bad or wrong. I mean, you want us, right? And that’s worked out pretty good so far. You should get to have a house, my love. A whole world’s worth of wanting. And it’ll be slow going, especially right now, but when--” She winced, hating the coding of her language, especially when Regan was such a fraught subject. “When these final rites and sacrifices you’re making right now with your cousin are over, I think it’ll go faster. And maybe...I don’t know, maybe Kelly knows, but maybe if you have a little more of a house than you do right now, those sacrifices will be easier to carry, until you can finally put them down.” She gave a firm kiss to her lips, then a tender one to her cheek, and looped her arms around Deirdre as she shifted back and angled herself toward Kelly.

“You do not have to be good,” she murmured. “And you can want. The world won’t fall. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Deirdre breathed, melting against Morgan. Whatever annoyance she felt about being interrogated, and whatever anger she felt towards Kelly, she let it free and held Morgan close. She didn’t care, then, who was in a room with them; who was scratching into their notepad or held esteemed education. There was Morgan, and then there was her, and nothing else mattered. “You’ve said this so many times. I’m sorry.” If reassurances were something Morgan felt poorly for wanting, Deirdre felt just as terrible. They had both endured similar punishment for their desires--evidenced enough by the fact that Deirdre had told Morgan a similar thing when she was cursed. “But that could take months. That could take years. Would you be okay with--I can’t do that to you. I need to--I’m trying now. I’m trying.” She couldn’t put her sacrifices down, that wasn’t her privilege, but she understood what Morgan was saying, and for it, she wept, burying her head into Morgan’s shoulder. “I do want you,” she repeated. “I do want our relationship and our life, and I do want to be--” Better? More whole? More secure? “--I don’t know.”

Defeated, embarrassed, Deirdre didn’t want to move from where she’d wriggled herself in. “I’m sorry, my love. I know you wanted to talk. I know you have things you want to say.” And she knew that these sessions were for the both of them, even if she didn’t understand how. “Maybe a hobby would be nice,” she pulled back and smiled, this time, the idea did sound like something she wanted. Deirdre turned to Kelly. “Can I ask Morgan a question?” And as Kelly nodded, Deirdre opened her mouth. “Do you really not feel supported, loved, when I’m not around? Did you feel that way before your--” Deirdre grimaced; she hated referring to Morgan’s death this way, it was so much more than an accident, it was a murder. “--your accident? Those times when we’d--” She grimaced again, this time out of guilt. “--broken up, were they different than these times now, when I was…” Deirdre trailed off.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re okay. I’ll say it as many times as you need. Sometimes it just takes time. It’s okay…” Morgan held Deirdre tight as she melted against her body, trying to catch all of her at once. She gave more kisses and combed her fingers carefully through Deirdre’s half pinned up hair and whispered her love and acceptance some more. At some point Kelly passed a box of tissues, which rested uncomfortably close on the end table, and Morgan took one so she could wipe her love’s tears herself. “I know you’re trying. And this is already so good. You don’t even have to know what you want right now, okay? You just have to try and find out. That’s all, my love.” She nuzzled her cheek as they adjusted themselves once again, now wrapped up as close as possible while still maintaining some shred of politeness.

At the suggestion that she had something more important to say, Morgan shook her head and gave more tender kisses and touches along Deirdre’s face. Kelly had sprung the good brand, and there were no flakes of paper or irritated splotches on her cheeks. She looked just as wonderful as she ever did. “No, I’d rather hear you talk about what else you might fill your world with…” she beamed as she spoke and let it go. Deirdre wanted to ask her something, and since opening up was so important, who was she to push in the other direction?

And then Deirdre asked. Morgan’s smile faded, now heavy with guilt of her own. “Deirdre, I… I don’t mean all the time. It’s not like I think you’re going to leave me every time you go to the office. I mean, during the uh, herbal scares we had, when your cult slipped you those drugs, I would worry that uh….they would do something, and I wouldn’t be able to stop it because I wasn’t there. Because you were off...doing things.” And the mushroom spores had in fact found Deirdre that way. ”But that’s...that’s not what you’re asking.” She swallowed thickly and gave Deirdre a pained smile that only lasted a moment. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.

“In those times when we were seeing each other but not admitting it to ourselves… I did...think it was the end. The actual end. The first two, at least. I actually thought I made you hate me for a while, until that night at Al’s. And I did feel broken inside. I called Remmy and I cried until my whole body hurt, and some days did pass in this fog of depressed not-quite-existence. But I wasn’t on the floor completely? Just, maybe really close to it. But I would tell myself that it didn’t matter, and I wasn’t supposed to have anyone like that anyway, you know, with that weird family legend my mom raised me on. Which just made me feel guilty on top of sad for wanting to reach out to you so bad even though you’d made it clear you didn’t want to talk.” Her voice flattened with disdain; the curse had been only too real, and she had paid for it with her life. But then again, the way Ruth had brought it into her life probably had hit heavier than the thing itself. She didn’t know what a healthy relationship with the curse would have possibly looked like, just that hers hadn’t been it. “I was sad and scared for you because I wanted you to be loved by at least someone, even if it wasn’t me, and I wasn’t sure if you would let that happen. And I told myself you were better off and safer. And I had been on my own on and off for so long. I could do it again. I would be fine. I was fine before, just the way I was, and I’d get over it eventually.” She shrugged, trying to brush those times aside. But her eyes were filmed with tears at the recollection, and she could not hold Deirdre’s gaze for longer than an instant for fear of letting them spill over.

“I figured you out eventually, though, and I didn’t break during those later absences. I knew you felt something for me. Sometimes I wondered, but deep down I knew. Always. And I knew I wanted to be with you, even if it was just half a relationship. You took such good care of me, and it was the best I’d felt in so long, I was almost scared. The pain of not having you just like I wanted was almost a comfort sometimes. With the...family legend, about the curse. It felt like maybe you were kind of protected, or we were. Kind of like a win-win? And we had that no sex boundary, to protect at least myself from making a big mess. And when we were actually together… even on that really bad night when I thought the curse had destroyed the house, I knew you didn’t blame me. I knew you loved me. I was just so sorry because I was scared, and we had all our memories in those rooms the way they’d been before, and I thought things were going to get worse. But you loved me, even if it really had been that uh, superstitious curse come to life. But after--”

After she died, everything was different.

“Everything died with me in that wreck,” she said. “That minute when I flatlined, I mean,” she hastily added. “We already talked it out in the woods, and I understand now, I know how it really was, but I did think...when I woke up alone, I thought it was only a matter of time before it was over, and you were just being kind. There was a lot going on, so that wasn’t the only reason I was on the floor all the time, just one of them. But after that, when I was hanging onto you with everything I had...That first time you left for a night, I thought that was the end too. And it did...hit differently. My worst fear for us has always been that I’ll do something horrible and unforgivable without meaning to and it’ll be that day in the woods all over again. I’ll just be talking or holding you, and I’ll think everything is fine, and then I’ll do something stupid and it won’t be and I won’t see it coming, it’ll just happen, it’ll be over, and there won’t be anything I can do because if I didn’t even know it was wrong before, how well can I guarantee I won’t do it again, and if you’re too hurt to be able to tell me, how am I going to learn and…” Morgan stopped herself, realizing her voice was growing thin and shrill. She wasn’t breathing. Morgan squeezed Deirdre tight and let her tears spill over as she met her eyes desperately.

The pain in her chest was so much bigger than one bad break up in the woods. The root went so much further than Deirdre. When Morgan looked at her reflection in Deirdre’s eyes, she saw herself at twelve and ten and six, the quiet of her family’s apartment suddenly shattered by her mother screaming and swearing, and impassive look turning to rage and exasperation, a gentle hand of instruction turning into a claw on her shirt. No going back, no time to apologize. She should have known better. Been better. She was just such a hard-headed, willfully stupid child. Morgan shivered, unable to bring words to what she was seeing and unable to stop herself until her fear had been spent. “I felt better after we talked, and you kept me so close all day when you came back, and I felt better by the end of the week, I think. But it did feel like….like that fear. I thought I had ruined everything. But I couldn’t tell myself that I didn’t need you, or I wasn’t allowed this, or that I would be fine, nothing I’d told myself before felt true and I didn’t know what to do. And that’s my fault, it’s mine, it is, but that’s how it felt. And the other nights you did that...I kept myself from destroying our house, but I wondered. I stayed up and I couldn’t focus on anything until you came back because that fear was so strong. And then at the end of this past November... “ Morgan grimaced as she tried to sift through the feelings. She had so many varieties of pain, it was hard to categorize them precisely.

“I didn’t think it was over in November. But I thought maybe it might be. I thought…” She had to close her eyes and will herself back there. She had cut the cord on this time, but the knot, the true source of it, remained buried in her soul. “I know better now, from what you said later. But back then, I couldn’t...It was similar, yes, I thought you had stopped...I thought maybe you...you didn’t want m-me. But I thought I could fix it, too. If I could just...do something right, if I could make you just a little bit happy, a little bit at peace, then maybe you would...you’d just have to. If I could just figure out what I was supposed to do, it would be okay and I’d make--” She stopped and covered her mouth, her face crumpling at the truth that had just risen on her tongue. “I was wrong,” she said, barely audible beneath her fingers. She sniffled and choked, swallowing down sobs. “I was wrong. I thought I was helping. It wasn’t a conscious thought. In my head it was like, I just wanted to make things better for you, I wanted to share your pain and make you feel better and you wouldn’t have to feel so alone, because we’d be together. I’d fix it, I’d fix everything as much as I could. I never consciously set out to...to make you love me again.” She bowed her head, shivering miserably as she just barely held herself together. “It’s just that you were all I had. And if I lost you, there wouldn’t be anything. I was so desperate, I didn’t even let myself really think it. And I...I’m sorry. I’m sorry I tried to do that, and I couldn’t see your hurt, and that I shouldn’t have put that on you, I didn’t see that, I’m sorry. But everything we’re doing now, it’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. But I am...I am sorry for all of it. And it was my fault, it’s my fault…” Her voice croaked, and Morgan’s grip on her cries fell.

Deirdre’s arms had found their way around Morgan, her body pressed to hers, together just as they’d sit at home. She held her tight, soothing with her touch as Morgan spoke. They’d already talked about the break ups, and Deirdre knew Morgan didn’t blame her—and so she didn’t interrupt with an apology or an explanation. As she listened, she understood Morgan’s pain wasn’t because of her, which should have been a relief but only served to make Deirdre’s chest throb. If it was her fault, then it was something she could control; something she could fix. Likewise, Morgan had thought Deirdre’s pain to be personal, and therefore in her hands. But it wasn’t. Neither of their pain was. But to say what led them here was Morgan’s fault…?

“My love,” Deirdre mumbled, lifting Morgan’s head up to thumb away her tears; as many as there were, even when they kept coming. “My love,” she repeated, “my strong, kind love. It’s not your fault. I don’t think it is, and I wish you didn’t either. The way you were raised...the things your mother did to you, said to you, and your curse...all the things you’ve lost…do you know how strong you are, Morgan? You did so good with what you were dealt, how is that your fault? How could it be your fault?” She released her face, wanting to use her hands to hold her again—tight, firm, steady. “The fact that we’re here, that isn’t your fault. And this isn’t a bad place to be; you said it yourself, we’re going to be okay, and we’ll learn the things we should be doing. And we’ll be better than we were before, and that’s not bad at all. And if it’s not bad then...what exactly is your fault? There’s nothing here to blame yourself for, my love. You wanted to take my pain away—that wasn’t bad either. And you were scared, and none of that is bad. The way you felt, your feelings, they’re not bad, they’re not your fault. I—“ Deirdre cut herself off, hearing Kelly’s scratching. She hated that part of her was worried about what Kelly thought of her attempt to comfort, maybe it was all wrong and there had to be some better way to do it. But despite the feeling, she continued.

“I love you, Morgan. You, and your thoughts and feelings and I love that we’re here—“ Her lips thinned. “Well, maybe not love but I—I think it’ll be good for us. And I’m happy that we’re doing this, and that you’re figuring out your supports, Morgan. I don’t blame you, I’m not mad at you for anything. Maybe, maybe you’ll be able to stop blaming yourself.” She combed her fingers through Morgan’s hair, careful to make sure Kelly couldn’t see how she tugged on it—the human wouldn’t understand what Morgan’s zombie senses needed. “Thank you for always being so honest with me, my love. And what you were saying, about not seeing my hurt I—well, you just wanted to make it better, and I think that’s a noble thing to want. Maybe it was wrong.” Maybe Kelly would say it was. “But I don’t think so; we make mistakes and then we figure it out. And if there was something to forgive you for, you’d already be forgiven. You’ve been so afraid, Morgan, for so long, of so many things. If you’re going to blame yourself, then you have to blame me for being equally as scared. And if you can’t do that then…” She trailed off and smiled, picking tissues out of the box on the table. If Morgan wasn’t going to blame Deirdre, then she shouldn’t be blaming herself—Deirdre didn’t need to say the rest of her thought to let it be clear. She held the tissues out with one hand, using the other to thumb along the bones of her face. “It’s a process,” she said, “well, according to Kelly.” Deirdre smiled up at the therapist, suddenly forgetful of her animosity.

“Are you okay, my love? Do you want to stay like this for a while or…?” Deirdre asked gently, wondering if Kelly would interrupt them now that she’d watched the scene play out. Was there criticism to hand out? Advice? Had they sponged up their time and needed to be ushered out? Deirdre found herself uncaring for the answer, instead she leaned over and pressed her lips to Morgan’s cheek, jaw, temple. She willed love to pass through her body and unto Morgan like a current.

Morgan shut her eyes and huddled into Deirdre, whimpering as she tried to swallow down her sobs. “But I should have been better…” she said feebly. “I’m sorry…” There was nothing else she could think of to say, and so she hid herself deeper into Deirdre’s forgiveness and affection, greedy and aching for it. The parts of her that were lost and trembling didn’t believe she deserved to be comforted, that she should pay, somehow, for the mistakes she had made. But another part, rational and relieved, understood the truth in Deirdre’s words. They really were a pair, holding these double standards for themselves that they would never dream of putting on each other. She laughed, sad and quiet and held Deirdre a little tighter.

“I love you,” she whispered, so soft only her banshee would be able to hear. “I love you always.” She sniffled and lifted her head. “I’m okay,” she said, first to Deirdre, then again to Kelly, clearly and with her best attempt at a smile. She shifted herself to be more visible to their therapist, but made no move to untangle herself from her love.

Kelly beamed at the two of them, her hand deftly concealing the notes in her lap. It was the most feeling she’d expressed to them the whole hour. She remained silent, giving them both time to gather themselves and stay cuddled. “What’s interesting to me, watching you two, is that you seem to possess a certain amount of level-headed wisdom when it comes to each other. And when I say that, I mean you understand that being judgemental isn’t productive toward finding a more positive way of being. You appreciate the importance of a growth mindset, and reflection, but not criticism. But when it comes to yourselves, the temptation to give into fear and take on blame and criticism is much stronger. This may come as a surprise to you, or it may not, but my sense is that the way to enable you to have a stronger footing in your relationship, to be good, or better to each other than you currently are, is to be attentive and forgiving to yourselves. I have some exercises you can practice at home to foster the kind of environment to optimize this kind of work and break down some of these fear responses and thought distortions, but it may be that individual therapy sessions will help you even more, if that is something you are interested in. Does everything I’m saying resonate with you both?”

Morgan nodded from the safety of Deirdre’s chest, where her head still lay. “That makes sense. If you have any suggestions on alone time to couple time ratio, I’d like to hear that too.” She glanced up at Deirdre, hope flickering in her expression. What do you think?

Deirdre smiled, gentle and just for Morgan. “I love you too,” she said; whispered for her love’s ears alone. It’d been a year since they’d met—even if it had felt like so much longer, in all the best ways and only in some terrible ones—and while the woman Morgan knew a year ago had been terrified of having feelings for a human, she’d never shied from affection. She didn’t think to deny Morgan this intimacy. Not when she was afraid, and certainly not under Kelly’s gaze. She held her firm, pressed her lips to the top of her head and shifted just enough to face their therapist. Before the sounds came to her, it was easy to say ‘I love you’ just like this. Where words failed her, touch never did. She wondered if Kelly knew that, if that was somewhere on her notes. It ought to be.

Deirdre nodded, it did occur to her that she was kinder to Morgan than she was to herself. But the reasoning was simple there: she loved Morgan. And self-love—true self-love and not self-importance—was useless to her. Or it had been. “It does, Kelly.” No, individual therapy sounded like the nightmare that it was and she’d only found ease being honest here because of Morgan’s presence, but, their relationship wasn’t the issue. It wasn’t a lack of love, or trust or aversion to affection, it was old wounds, old trauma. Things that needed to be dealt with alone. Things she couldn’t fix for Morgan, and Morgan couldn’t fix for her. Deirdre understood this now, in silent revelation. “Hmm, but I like when we spend time together,” she pouted briefly at Morgan, before she couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think they spent too much time together, they did live in the same house, after all. Or, they did. Now Morgan lived in the backyard, partly. Which was depressing for a number of reasons, but mostly because Deirdre didn’t think they crowded each other much to begin with. What was so wrong about working separately at opposite ends of the couch? Or when she’d poke her head in after Morgan had spent hours grading papers to ask if she wanted some eyeballs or boiling tea. She struggled to find a single issue with their nights cuddled together, watching movies.

But Morgan wanted space, and independence, and Deirdre understood that better than she was disappointed about being apart. “That would be nice too; interests besides each other. Maybe a way to figure that out. I know we have separate jobs and friends, and maybe that’s a start, but…” Deirdre sighed. She didn’t know how to explain that her interests were exclusively death, math and Morgan. “We do live together, and so time spent with each other is inevitable, but maybe we don’t need to be actively engaging with each other if that’s not—I mean...I just enjoy being in the same room as Morgan, or knowing that I can be, even if we’re not…” Deirdre shook her head and cut herself off. This wasn’t the point, and she was starting to ramble. “Sorry, yeah. What were those exercises you had? And, um, suggestions on the time ratio.”

“I think for the time being, whatever system the two of you have devised for creating time to be yourselves on your own, is fine. Continue to check in with each other and negotiate or maintain that as best as the two of you can until our next meeting.” Kelly’s smile flickered and widened for just a moment, which Morgan seized on as approval and clung to. She whispered another private I love you into the crook of Deirdre’s neck and straightened enough to take out her phone.

“I just want to take notes, to make sure I get everything down,” she explained.

“Deirdre, while Morgan is having her designated private time, I’d like you to challenge yourself to find activities that stimulate your interest. Look into those hobbies, or take some quiet time to see what comes up for you in the stillness. I would also like to suggest a journal practice, one where you focus your attention on yourself and the world around you, and not just your care for Morgan.” She turned her attention to Morgan, brow quirked when she noticed that the woman was writing for the both of them, it seemed. “Morgan, I would like you to take some time asking yourself why it is you feel compelled to take on so much responsibility in this relationship. Your partner has proven herself capable and willing to learn. Even if things should be, let’s say, a little less smooth than normal by allowing Deirdre to rise to the occasion and take some initiative more often, you’re also creating some powerful opportunities for you to learn together as a couple. But first, I think knowing yourself and the source of your anxiety will help you develop effective ways of combating your negative thoughts when they come up. And when we meet next, I’d like to hear the insights you’ve uncovered. My initial homework for both of you is this: try to get more comfortable receiving each other’s love and affection as you are giving it. Ask or state what you want from each other, be it a hug or a kiss or another hour cuddled by the TV or something spicier, as my niece says, and allow yourself to enjoy and receive the attention your partner is giving you for a little longer before you immediately turn to giving something back. Bask a little, appreciate that you are adored and deserving of this.”

After that, Kelly dismissed them and Morgan gave her thanks and left with Deirdre, still huddled into her side. She only parted when they made it to the car and for logistical reasons alone, they had to untangle and walk to their separate doors. Morgan brought the Subaru to quiet, rumbling life and buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot and its pseudo zen landscaping. By the time they were on the freeway, her hand was on Deirdre’s again. “So,” she prompted gently, glancing sidelong with great tenderness. “How are you feeling after all that? What do you feel like doing when we get home?”

Deirdre perked up, smiling and ready to interject. She did have a journal and—oh. Not about Morgan? She deflated. But what else would she write about if not the curve of her love’s bones? The corpse-blue tint of her eyes? The flowers of discolouration that bloomed across her skin when she was due to eat soon? How much she loved her, in what ways, with what words—these were things she needed to commit into existence. This was what her journal was. But she sighed, and remembered to keep her nightly entry Morgan-free. And though she was sure there wouldn’t be a hobby out there more interesting than holding her love, she made note of that too. She turned to Morgan and smiled fondly at the literal notes she was taking, though she couldn’t read them—and didn’t want to pry anyway—from her angle. It was when Kelly mentioned Morgan’s shouldering of responsibility that Deirdre turned to look at Kelly, momentarily confused. Relationships were equal; ‘we help each other’. Deirdre shifted, mulling it over. She never would have called it ‘taking responsibility’ but that was exactly the words for it. She reached over and pressed her palm into Morgan’s knee, a kind of reassurance and apology. Maybe if she’d gotten those diplomas, she’d have known what words to use. She’d have the language. Maybe they wouldn’t have been here. But most certainly, if that was the case, she wouldn’t have felt any guilt about not being a certified therapist like Kelly in the first place.

But ‘basking’, now that was an idea she could get behind. “Tired,” Deirdre laughed, eager to discover how to appropriately ‘bask’. To her mind now, it sounded like cuddling in bed. “So tired. Is it supposed to feel like that?” She turned to look at Morgan, squeezing her hand with a smile. She’d reclined her seat to a point where she might as well have been laying down. Unfortunately, Kelly’s practice wasn’t a far enough drive for her to nap. “What do I feel like doing?” She turned her head to look at the rushing sights. Sleep, her mind responded with enthusiasm. She yawned; her body’s way of agreeing. And then she was silent. And silent again for another minute, and another, and then three. She couldn’t say it. Kelly told her to try, and she couldn’t do it.

Sleep was not a ridiculous thing to ask for, but what if Morgan wanted something else? What if the question had been rhetorical? What if she’d taken too long to reply now and Morgan didn’t care for the answer anymore? Deirdre swallowed. “What do you want?”

Morgan laughed softly and reached over to touch her love. Her hand landed somewhere on her stomach, where her shirt rode up just a little from reclining. She played with the hem as she brushed Deirdre’s side. “I’ve definitely never hurdled headfirst into epiphanies on what is technically a second session, but you and I do spend a lot of time processing together anyways, and we don’t usually do things halfway, so maybe it’s not all that surprising. But the tired...it’s definitely not uncommon. When I first started going after my college mental breakdown, I would end up taking a nap as soon as I got home after.”

She let the silence take them until they hit a red light. Deirdre was supposed to voice her wants, and even though everything in her body made it clear to Morgan, she didn’t want to step on her opportunity to speak for herself. When she finally did, Morgan’s heart sank. “Babe--” she urged gently. “It’s okay. I can pretty much tell already, and the answer is yes, but you should say.” Her fingers spidered over to find Deirdre’s hand and cradled them together. “It’s okay.”

Slowly, Deirdre reached up and pinched Morgan’s hand--when she was alive, this unspoken question was a gentle brush instead--asking to hold it. There were many things she wanted, but only so many she could ask for. Whenever she did, the question was soft, silent. She looked at her love, illuminated by the world and the red-glow of the stop light. When their hands fit together finally, she found strength to speak, “then...can I take you to bed? Can I hold you?” Her voice was gentle against her quivering lips, parted in trepidation. Morgan had said the answer was yes, but she’d believe it once she heard it. And until then, she watched with nervous yearning. “Can I sleep, just for an hour, with you in my arms? And when I wake..can we--can we--” The light turned green. Deirdre swallowed. “Can we spend the day together? For just a while longer?”

Morgan gave Deirdre her hand with ease, going so far as to pull her love’s over the console and up to her lips so there could be no mistaking her enthusiasm. She held Deirdre’s gaze as she searched for the words, so quiet and timid they were almost swallowed up by the low humming of the car. She only turned her eyes away when the light turned and she had to switch lanes to make their turn in the bright glare of the afternoon. She squeezed Deirdre’s hand again, beaming as the trees cleared and the roads grew more familiar. “I would love nothing more than going to bed with you, my love, in every sense of the phrase,” she said. This was breaking a rule, or talking about breaking one, which felt a little less reckless. But Morgan had said that their rules should be up to revision anyway, hadn’t she?

Morgan loosened her grip so she could put both hands on the wheel. She didn’t need to fall into steamy bliss with her love tonight, and certainly not as soon as they got home. But with her greater understanding of herself came a desire to shake off the last of her intimacy trepidations. If her fear had so little to do with Deirdre, then what was the point? Shouldn't they get to enjoy themselves as much as possible in their time together? “That aside, I think laying down in our bed wrapped in each other’s arms for an hour or two sounds like a perfect idea. And then after you wake, we can do absolutely anything you want until--” Morgan stopped herself from giving the precise time. Deirdre hated exacting times for their comings and goings. It was the three minute game all over again, and Morgan didn’t want to add to her trepidation by dangling a fated hour over her. “Until I decide to take a couple of hours for myself in the evening. But after that, I’ll come back to you for the night. I’m also pretty heart-tired, and I don’t think I want anything more than being close to you right now.”

Every sense of the— Deirdre chased the echo away. Morgan didn’t mean it like that, and even if she did, she was just being carried by the energy of their first session. It didn’t mean anything, and certainly not what she wanted it to mean. Don’t be hopeful, don’t be. But Deirdre closed her eyes, and despite her cautioning, she could feel hope swell as Morgan continued. And then relief washed across her and she relaxed into her seat. It was okay. It was going to be okay. She could have this, she could have Morgan. She opened her eyes and stared at the streets she knew. The drive back wasn’t long, and she was happier to be up and into their house as soon as they could be than to pretend like cars were ever comfortable or interesting to sit in. At some point, though she didn’t realize it, the scenery turned dark. “I always want to be close to you,” she confessed quietly. “I want you to take me to the place where everything is easy again. I want to sleep, and I want to wake up feeling okay. And I want you to be there. I want you with me. I want to know what I have to do to get better. I want that to be done already. I want our future, our life. I want to be happy. I want you to be happy. I want a house in the forest with land to farm and more cats, all rescued. I want to teach kids math and about bones. I want to make death easy and okay. I want my family’s farm, freed from its legacy. I want animals that die natural and content. I want a banshee that’s happy, I want a family of banshees that are. I want to take you to Ireland and show you the horses. I want to watch all those old movies you like. I want to talk to you forever. I want to spend all my life with you. I want a dog. I want us to travel the world and see everything our mothers would never let us see. I want you. I want us. I want to go home and sleep.” Of course, she said none of that. She’d fallen asleep on the very seat she thought she’d never.

What she had said was far more simple, and yet, more than any of her imagined words could have been: “I love you, Morgan.”

#wr deirdre #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #baby's first couple's therapy #wickedswriting

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