#we said we’d never grow old… it’s open season on blue moods… light from a screen of messages unsent.

[keruukat]

Looping the entire So Much for Stardust album rn and every song feels like a personal callout

Like if I wasn’t going through it rn Hold Me like A Grudge would sound so fucking stupid but oh my god

This part in particular is like a knife to my chest man

I feel like some Fall Out Boy songs sound stupid until you listen to them in a very specific state of turmoil and then you’re like oh I get it hahaha yeah cheers Patrick yeah I’m gonna need u to sing that for me fifteen more times

[waywardrose13]

Morrigan- Part One

Request from @thefaithfulwriter: Can I request a dean reader were the reader is very shy like stuttering and has glasses and is underestimated by everyone but really she is very powerful because she is possessed by someone like the character enchantress like off of suicide squad but they are very close to each other like they can talk to eachother and they are close bc the reader was being abused and the enchantress possessed the reader bc the reader help her escape so there very close but the guys never knew and when dean shows interest in the reader she trys to keep her distance bc she doesn't want anyone to find out about being possessed but her secret comes out when she has to save everyone like cas jack sam and dean from a group of demons or something( and if she can like transform it the enchantress like from suicide squad but has black wings with horns on top of that if possible) and she ends up saving them all but passing out bc she used to much energy and dean confronts her on his feels and she tells him how she feels about him and then they all get to meet enchantress and idk how you would want to end it I just want the reader to feel loved and appreciated even if she has a bad past and has glasses and stutters sorry if that's to much

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4981

Warnings: Angst, language, past abusive relationship, scared/triggered!Reader

A/N: Written for @badthingshappenbingo- Superpower overload & @spndeanbingo- Free space

This will be two parts. Send me an ask if you want to be tagged:)

The bunker was quiet.

It was mid December, one of my favorite parts of the year. The leaves had fallen, reds and yellows and browns mixing with the greens of the grasses, the air finally cold after the sweltering heat of the summer and the cool of the autumn. I never was a fan of the heat, even less so after Morrigan. She didn’t like the heat much, either.

I closed the door to my room softly, padding down the hallway to the kitchen. It was late, nearly three in the morning. Morrigan was a night owl, and we seemed to find our sleep schedule fluctuating with the seasons and moon cycles. We’ve slept more during the day lately, usually up until dawn most nights. Winter always kept us awake more.

Opening the fridge, I pulled out a bowl of fruit I had made previously in the day and set it on the counter before grabbing a fork.

I told you that you’d prefer the fruit.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

You should just accept the fact I’m always right. I could feel her smirking.

“Shut up,” I scoffed, a smile hinting on my lips. I felt her smile smally.

“Who are you talking to?” I jumped at the deep voice behind me, spinning around with a strawberry on my fork.

Dean Winchester stood at the entryway to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His sweatpants hung lowly on his hips, clad only in a t-shirt, which was a rare sight all on its own. He looked at me strangely, and I struggled for an answer.

“Uh… Nobody.”

Nice save.

I fought the urge to give her a bitch face.

“I thought I heard you talking,” Dean said, walking into the kitchen. He peered into my bowl, face scrunching up as he spotted the fruit. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No,” I said, popping the strawberry in my mouth. I pushed up my glasses, raising a brow at him. “So, uh… Why-why are you up?”

“I heard you walking around,” Dean said shrugging. “Thought I’d see what you were up to. Wondered what you were doing up so late- or, early, I guess.”

“I’m not tired I suppose,” I muttered, stabbing a blackberry with my fork. Morrigan had messed with my sleep schedule since she’d possessed my body. It frankly was quite annoying, the way it changed so much. Some days we’d sleep through the sun, others we would sleep like regular people. She never could make up her mind.

Dean gave me a look before leaning against the counter, his emerald eyes trained on me as I ate my fruit quietly. He reached over and grabbed a grape, eyeing it before eating it. His nose wrinkled and he gave me a side glance.

“You and Sam… I don’t understand it.” He shook his head.

I snorted, swallowing a mouthful of fruit. “Oh, I forgot to-forgot to tell you. I’m heading out tomorrow. Solo-solo hunt.”

He raised a brow. “Solo, huh? Reliving the old days? Sure you don’t want me or Sam to come with you?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I nodded, pushing up my glasses again. “I kin-kinda want some alone time, anyway. It’s just a simple salt and burn.”

Which was a total lie. Truth was, Morrigan was getting antsy. She hadn’t come to light in a while, and it began taking a bit of a toll on me and her. My moods changed too quickly, and I could feel her energy a bit too heavily a few days ago, nearly making me pass out. There was a case, a pack of werewolves actually. It would be too difficult for one person, but easy as pie for Morrigan. This way, she’d have some light and a dangerous pack would be taken out.

“Alright,” Dean sighed, pushing off the counter. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’m gonna try and catch some more shut eye.”

“Okay. Good night, Dean,” I said quietly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

***

The bed dipped slightly under her weight. Morrigan twitched inside her body, anxious to get out. Y/N sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair.

“Veni foras,” she whispered, closing her eyes and allowing her soul to the back of her body. It felt as though a rubber band had snapped inside, and suddenly Morrigan was brought to light, Y/N’s body transforming into Morrigan’s.

Morrigan stood up, walking to the mirror, flexing out her hands and rolling her shoulders. She smiled at her reflection, giddy to finally be in control again. She took off Y/N’s glasses, not needing them anymore, and set them gently down onto the shelf under the mirror.

Two small, black horns protruded from her head, rising out of raven black hair. It cascaded down like a waterfall, nearly the same color as the two wings growing from her back, a hint of deep crimson showing in the feathers as she moved them in the light. She was clad in black armour, a corset around her torso, her legs protected by gear resembling one of a knight’s. A cloak wrapped around her shoulders, trailing down between her wings. Made of crow feathers, it was jet black and gave the illusion that she was much larger than she was, appearing even more intimidating. The shoulders were flared out; small, silver, curved spikes shining in the dim light of the room as she moved. Her eyes were smothered in black, giving her a ghostly look that would make shivers run down anyone’s spine.

She turned away from the mirror, a devilish smirk on her face as she took a deep breath, transporting herself from the room to outside the farm the wolves were inhabiting. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, raising her arms and calling out to Mortem.

A caw echoed through the field, a great crow suddenly flying across the sky and in front of the moon. Morrigan held up her arm, which was armored as well, waiting. The crow swooped down, landing swiftly on her arm, cawing at her again.

“Hello again, my pet,” she said, voice like silver. Mortem shifted, flapping his wings and flying up to perch on her shoulder. He was old, almost as old as she was, soaring the planet for hundreds of years, and he always answered her call, ready to serve alongside her in battle. She raised her hand and ran her fingers lightly over his feathers, crystal blue eyes flickering over to the barn and small house. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I know you won’t, Morrigan. Enjoy the moon.

The sorceress looked up, a dark smile gracing her features as the full moon rose in the dark, spreading its light across the field and her pale face. “That I will.”

***

The wolves were taken care of rather quickly, no match against an enchantress like Morrigan. She felt much more calm and sated, the anger that had bubbled within her and transferred to Y/N over the past few weeks had dissipated. She sighed, not quite wanting to return back to her hiding place inside Y/N’s body. She never, not once, took advantage of her possession over her. After Y/N gave her the spotlight, she’d always return it, never forcing the girl into giving it over to her.

Morrigan had possessed Y/N almost two years ago.

She was trapped inside a moon stone, one that was inside Y/N’s ring she never took off. Morrigan was cursed to live inside the stone until the owner called out for help, and then, and only then, was she freed.

Y/N’s boyfriend at the time was an abusive bastard. It was rare when she didn’t have a bruise and she flinched at every little thing. Morrigan had grown close to the shy girl, watching as she wanted to fight back, but just wasn’t strong enough. Finally, Trent had taken her ring out of spite, laughing as Y/N yelled at him to give it back as he crushed in under his hammer, destroying many of her possessions.

But it freed Morrigan.

She found Y/N, explaining to her that she wasn’t strong enough to withstand a spectral life force. She promised Y/N not to harm or take advantage of their situation, telling her that she could protect her. Y/N agreed, and when Trent had returned from destroying her room, bringing the hammer up in the air, ready to strike, Morrigan made herself present, beating Trent to a pulp and scaring him enough that he never bothered Y/N again.

After that, Y/N and Morrigan grew quite close. Morrigan never had taken advantage of their companionship, enjoying the simple life with Y/N. She preferred to live in the dark, taking shelter inside Y/N’s mind, coming to light only when needed to, or when she got antsy. She and Y/N talked often, and Y/N soon found Morrigan her only true companion after Trent until she met the Winchesters.

Y/N had always been shy. She was quiet and introverted. She was surprised at how talkative she was with the brothers. Of course, she got nervous, especially around the oldest brother. She’s awkward and stutters, she wears thick rimmed, hipster glasses and keeps her hair simply down or in a ponytail most of the time. She still finds herself flinching time to time, and she can’t seem to trust people easily. It took a long time to finally open up to the Winchesters, and they still don’t know all about her past.

Morrigan sighed, transporting back into the motel room. Mortem fluttered his wings, flapping to perch on the top of the mirror. Morrigan’s eyes trained on her reflection again, another sigh escaping her lips.

You don’t have to go back so soon.

Morrigan’s lip twitched. “Yes I do,” she said. “The boys will be wondering where you are.”

It’s barely been a day. I’ll be fine.

“Are you sure?” Morrigan asked, furrowing her brows.

I’m sure.

She smiled. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Three Weeks Later

Dean dropped the duffel bag onto the motel room table, unzipping it and reaching inside. I caught the shotgun easily as he tossed it to me, and the angel blade after that.

“You know what to do when we get there?” He asked, giving me a look. His emerald eyes trained on mine, and my knees felt weak.

“Yes. I know what- I know what to do,” I said.

He nodded, looking over at Sam.

“Look, we get in, we get out. Shoot first, ask questions later. We grab Jack, and get the hell outta dodge, got it?” Dean said, looking between me, Cas, and his brother.

“Yeah, got it.” Sam’s jaw tightened and I let out a long breath.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Dean said, hoisting the bag onto his shoulder. “Let’s do this.”

***

If you need backup-

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered. I surveyed the area around me, taking in the cracked walls of the old warehouse and broken shelves. “Besides, it’s not the greatest idea to spring the idea that you’re possessing me on Sam and Dean like this.”

I wouldn’t call it possessing per se.

I snorted.

Maybe… kindly inhabiting.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause that’s better.” I rolled my eyes.

Sounds better than “possessing.”

“Whatever.” I turned the corner, squinting my eyes into the darkness.

The four of us had split up, against Sam’s better judgement. The demons who had taken Jack ran in a tight circle, and there was a lot of them. I hadn’t run into any yet, but I had the inkling that they all were guarding Jack. There was no doubt that they knew we were here.

Pushing open a door, I stopped dead in my tracks as my eyes adjusted to the scene.

Sam, Dean and Cas were all being held by two demons each, beaten and bloody. The number of demons inside the room was astounding, and there had to be at least twenty-five. Jack sat in a chair in the center of the room, chained and unconscious. I swallowed thickly, holding up the angel blade.

“There she is!” A demon said. He stepped forward, smiling. “We were wondering what was taking so long.”

“She was talking to herself,” a voice said behind me. I whipped around, coming face to face with another one. He looked up at the brothers. “You know she was this crazy?”

I jerked the blade up, plunging it into his rib cage, puncturing the heart. Sparks burned from his eyes and mouth, and he collapsed to the ground. Turning around, I raised a brow.

“My, oh my,” the first demon said.

“Y/N,” Dean said. My eyes flickered to him. “Run. Get out of here.”

My eyes lingered on him for a moment, and I felt a torn expression flash over my face. I didn’t stand a chance against these demons. But I couldn’t leave Dean. I gave him a defiant look before moving my eyes back to the demon.

“Oh,” he said smiling. “You’ve got a thing for the older Winchester… don’t you?”

I took a step forward.

Y/N. Stop it.

My eyes flickered over to Dean again. He was giving me a pained look.

“You do… don’t you? This is too good,” the demon said, chuckling darkly. “Kill him.”

My eyes widened as a demon moved in front of Dean, Sam’s knife in hand. He reared it back, readying to plunge it into Dean’s abdomen.

Y/N, don’t!

“No!” I screamed, running forward. Panicking, I yelled the first thing I could think of, the thing I absolutely didn’t want to do. “Veni foras!”

And suddenly, I was put to the back burner. Morrigan shifted into gear quickly, her mace forming in her hand. She swung it, taking the demon’s head clean off. Orange flickered in its body, and it was then that I realized how much I’d underestimated Morrigan and her weapons.

I could feel her anger. She was pissed for putting us into danger like that. If I hadn’t said those words, we both would have been goners. She knew the extent of what I’d do for Dean, and it scared the shit out of her. I’ve jumped in front of him numerous times, Morrigan scolding me after each one.

But I realized that I may not have a place by the Winchesters’ sides after this. I kept Morrigan a secret for nearly a year and half. I remember Dean telling me how angry Sam was after he found out about Gadreel. And I wasn’t even related to them.

The brothers’ and Castiel’s faces were set in stone shocked. They watched as Morrigan made her way around the room, fighting off each demon easily. Some with her mace, others with the red magic that shot from her fingers. But I could feel the energy waning. She, of course, would be fine. But her possession itself took a toll on my body physically. The magic being shot from her fingers fed from both of us. It came naturally to her, but it was taken directly from my energy source. Something sharp lodged itself in her right wing, tearing through the feathers and muscle. She let out a yelp, which I reciprocated inside our minds, eyes burning red as she hissed.

***

“Mortem!” Morrigan called, and she swung the mace around, spinning towards the demon who threw the knife, her blade soaring through the air and slicing through the demon’s jugular.

A raven soared through a broken skylight, a caw bouncing off the crumbling walls. The men looked up at it, puzzled expressions crossing their features. Mortem joined Morrigan by her side, eyes burning a matching red as he swooped down, using his beak to peck at the demon’s eyes and slice at their throats with his talons.

“Who are you?” The first demon asked, platinum blond hair shining in the moon rays streaming through the skylight. Morrigan smirked, tilting her head.

“Valkin,” she said, buttery voice making the men’s eyes widen a bit. She took a few steps forward, but it seemed more like a float. Her graceful walk was captivating, the way she moved the definition of utter perfection. She was absolutely dazzling, but also extremely intimidating Dean noted, and none of the men seemed to be able to take their eyes off her. Both in fear and curiosity.

She looked like Y/N. Of course she did, it was her body. But the wings and the horns and the slight differences like eye color and attire made it clear that she wasn’t anything remotely human, and it startled Dean to think about what they’d have to do after this.

“What a pleasure,” Morrigan said, bowing mockingly. She kept her crystal eyes on Valkin the entire time, a sultry smirk on her face. A smirk that none of the men had ever seen occupy Y/N’s face.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Valkin said. “Not here.”

“Hm.” Morrigan began walking in a large circle around the demon. Inquisitiveness filled Dean. Valkin seemed… scared. He visibly shook, and his jaw was set tight. However, he made no move to escape.

“So, you killed the rest of them. Get it over with,” Valkin said. He stood straight, letting out a breath.

Morrigan laughed, a bell like laugh that had a dark undertone to it. “What a coward you are.” She stopped circling when she was in front of him again. “Won’t even try to fight back.”

A scream erupted from the demon as his head was thrown back, black smoke shooting from his mouth. Morrigan’s face changed to one of fury, and she raised her fist, the red magic swirling around it. The smoke stopped, before spiraling down to her fist. She opened her hand, laying it palm up. The smoke lingered over her hand for a moment, before the red magic shot up at it, the smoke dispersing in a shock of orange.

But when she was done, Dean charged.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, watching as he raised his blade high in the air, ready to strike, and Morrigan didn’t even flinch.

“Hurt me, it hurts her,” she said. His eyes widened again at how different the voice was. He took a step back, not lowering the blade.

“Who are you?”

“I’m not sure that concerns you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She winced as her wing moved, blood dripping from the wound.

“What… are you?” Castiel asked, taking a few steps forward.

“That’s none of your concern either,” she said. “Now, if you do anything to harm Y/N… it will be the last thing you do. Understand?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Dean snarled. Morrigan’s eyes locked with his, flashing red. He cringed.

“The one who won’t hesitate to end you if you touch her,” she hissed. “Just ask Trent Rider.”

“Her ex boyfriend?” Sam asked.

Morrigan smirked. “Let’s just say he won’t be around to tell the tale.” She licked her lips, pearly teeth gleaming.

Sam swallowed thickly.

In the blink of an eye, Morrigan began to transform. Dean took a step back, watching as her body morphed back into Y/N’s.

***

I blinked a few times, my vision blurring around the edges. My shoulder stung from where the blade cut through her wing, and I felt myself sway.

“Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my hand pressing against my temple.

“What the fuck?” He growled, charging towards me. His hand gripped my arm, and I flinched, suddenly reeling back into my Trent days. He jerked his hand back, and his eyes widened as mine rolled back into my head.

***

Y/N…

I groaned, shifting on the bed, moaning in pain as my shoulder flared.

Y/N… You have to wake up.

My eyes blinked open, the edges fuzzy. My body felt heavy and drained, the energy Morrigan took from me making me weak. I tried to push myself up, but my hand was stopped, a metal clinking sound making me flinch.

Y/N, please stay calm. Everything will be okay…

My heart leapt to my throat as old memories resurfaced. It’s like I could feel him again; the pain. The metal dug into my wrist and I pulled on it, whimpering as I realized both hands were bound and there was no way out. I leaned back on the pillows behind me, slightly elevated but not enough to be sitting up completely.

“Morrigan?” I asked, panic evident in my voice. Tears welled in my eyes as I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“So that’s her name?” A deep voice said beside me. I gasped, head snapping to the sound. Dean stood from his chair, angel blade in hand as he moved to tower over me. I found myself shrinking, Dean’s stance and all-too-familiar anger bringing me back to Trent’s rage induced assaults.

“Dean, please. I can-I can explain but you gotta-gotta let me out of these cuffs. I be-eg you,” I pleaded, blinking a few times as I realized I didn’t have my glasses. As he bent down, his face got blurrier and it made me even more anxious.

“Why the hell should I do that?” He hissed. There was just anger in his voice; no sympathy or understanding. Pure rage radiated off the man I love, and I could hear my heart breaking.

“Because you know me,” I whispered. “You know what kind of person I am. You know that I’m not a- not a monster.”

“No, but she is,” he said.

“No, she’s not,” I said, suddenly furious.

Y/N, let me out. I can help.

“Quiet, Morrigan,” I muttered as quiet as I can. But Dean still heard.

“You can talk to her?” He asked. I didn’t answer him.

No, he’s going to hurt you. Let me out before he does or else I’ll be forced to hurt him.

“No, Morrigan!” I insisted, turning my head away from Dean.

“Hey! Answer me!” He said, gripping my chin tightly. I yelped and flinched, Trent’s face flashing through my mind as he held onto me. He didn’t let go, though, not like before. He gripped me tighter, ignoring my tears.

That’s it. Now, Y/N.

I knew she was right. He wouldn’t relent. Letting out a shaky breath, I let her out. “Veni foras.”

I was snapped to the back of my mind, and a furious snarl found its way onto my face as Morrigan took over.

***

Dean jumped back as Y/N’s body morphed, and suddenly she was gone. Morrigan appeared on the other side of the room, her cape was missing, and her wings were spread wider than before, the feathers ruffling.

“I warned you, Winchester,” she said. “I told you not to touch her.”

“Yeah, well-” he shrugged- “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Foolish human,” she spit. “You’re all the damn same. I should have known you would be the same, too. She said you were different. That you wouldn’t treat her like Trent did. I warned her. I told her, I could see the darkness in you. But she still saw the light. Thought you were good.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Dean hissed.

“Don’t I?” Morrigan smirked. “Dean Winchester. Thirty-eight. Aquarius. Has a secret anime addiction, and likes the feel of women’s underwear.” She laughed at his red cheeks. “Shall we get into the darker stuff?” She moved a few feet towards him. “You think about hell sometimes. What you did there. You feel guilt, sure. But you also remember the euphoria that cutting into those souls brought. You remember the high you had from watching them scream in agony, agony you inflicted. You look at people sometimes, and wonder what it would feel like to break them.” She smirked again. “You look at Y/N sometimes. More than others do. You find her fascinating, but now you wonder how it would feel to break her, too.”

Morrigan felt Y/N shudder, her heart shattering at that.

Morrigan, please.

“Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“No,” the hunter said. “It’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Morrigan barked. “You’ll hurt her.”

Dean swallowed, looking down for a moment. He raised his hand in the blink of an eye, sending the angel blade towards her. Morrigan held up her hand, the tip of the blade barely grazing the tip of her nose. Morrigan set her jaw, sighing.

Suddenly Y/N was back, eyes blinking back tears as Dean’s face dropped, guilt flashing across it.

***

“That won’t kill her,” I said quietly. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I resisted the urge to wipe them away, standing stone still. “It will just kill me.”

Dean lowered the blade slowly, swallowing thickly. His eyes pierced into mine, and I kept my neck slightly craned to look at him.

“Why?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you tell us? Why the hell did you keep this… this a secret? Why the hell did you let her possess you in the first place?”

I sighed, blinking a few times. I squinted my eyes at him, desperately wanting to see his face clearly.

“Trent was going to kill me,” I murmured. “Morrigan was trapped inside a moonstone ring of mine. Trent smashed it and she was freed. She came to me and told me she could p-protect me. She told me that she wasn’t strong enough to be on her own yet. She p-promised me she wouldn’t take advantage, and so I agreed. I was going to die if I said no, and I figured there was a chance she was lying but, what if she wasn’t? She saved my life, and she’s saved it numerous of times. She never has taken advantage of our situation and she’s become the closest thing to family I’ve had in years. And then you all come along and I… I didn’t know how to tell you because I knew you’d kill me- us. Or, at least try to.”

“So, you’re just completely fine with having some sort of… being inside you? Can she see everything?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. “And she doesn’t have to s-see everything. There’s a way I can push her out. It takes concentration but, it can be done.”

Dean let out a breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, hell. I don’t know what to do here.”

“Look, I’m still Y/N. You just know about M-Morrigan.” I shrugged. “Nothing has to change.”

“It already has!” Dean exclaimed. “You’re being possessed by something!”

“And I’m okay with it,” I said. “Morrigan is my fa-family. And I won’t let you do anything to her.”

“Dean, maybe she’s right,” Sam piped in. Dean whipped around to face his brother. “Y/N has always been Y/N. And Morrigan is here to protect her. She has never done anything to us.”

Yet.

I shook my head. Cas squinted his eyes at me in confusion.

“Morrigan is an ancient being. There’s nothing you can do to her that would hurt her. It would just hurt me. And she’s not going anywhere,” I said, standing a little bit straighter. “So-so deal with it.”

I saw Sam smirk a bit, and Dean’s face was simply confused.

“You know what, fuck this. I get you’re still Y/N, and I know that you’re no different now that we know, but I can’t deal with this. When we get to the bunker…” He trailed off, looking down at his feet for a moment. “You need to go.”

“What?” I breathed, panic bubbling in my chest.

“You have to go.”

“Where? I have nowhere to go.”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I just can’t deal with this. You lied to us for a year and a half. You have some ancient witch inside you and we have no idea if she will blow up on us or not. And you can’t be trusted anymore.”

“Dean, p-please I-”

“Stop, okay?” Dean said, holding a hand up. “Just stop.”

He turned away from me then, head still down. “We’ve all packed up. I suggest you do, too. There should be a car out front for you, but we’re heading back.”

“Without me?” I choked, biting my lip to hold back anymore tears.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. He motioned something towards Sam, Cas and Jack, and they followed him out of the room. Sam sent me one last glance before following his brother, and Jack gave me a quick hug.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Everything will be okay,” he said. “He’ll calm down.”

“I don’t think so, Jack,” I said. “But… thanks.”

He nodded, giving me a smile, before following the guys outside, closing the door softly behind him.

I waited until I heard the engine rumble and fade before I collapsed on the bed, sobs racking my body. I never thought I’d have to see the look of betrayal and hate on Dean’s face pointed towards me. I loved him, more than I ever thought possible, and he couldn’t stand to be around me. He felt it necessary to kick me out of the bunker, a place that I finally felt safe and wanted. Tears stained my cheeks as I curled up on the worn comforter, the name quite ironic at this point in time, because I felt no comfort at all.

I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Somewhere, deep in my mind, I could feel Morrigan, a soothing presence trying to wash over me. I knew she was trying to help me, but I couldn’t be bothered with it right now. I pushed her away, trying my best to block her out. I couldn’t deal with her right now, not while I was trying to deal with the ultimate shattering of my heart.

Part Two

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[classysassy9791]

Sometimes its the quieter moments that speak the loudest. A story of love, laughter, and friendship carried through the years during the most wonderful season of all. Full of fluff and Christmas cheer. Interconnecting One-shots.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Friendship Pairings: InuKag, MirSan, SessKagu Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l 

Chapter 8: Falling in Love at Christmas Word Count: 2160 Can also be found here

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Kagome frowned and puffed out her cheeks, narrowing her eyes at the man towering over her. “But Inuyasha,” she began, a growing list of excuses already perched on the tip of her tongue.

He silenced her with a shake of his head. “No buts,” he replied, pulling on his jacket and looping his gray scarf around his neck. “You’ve been stressed out for months, Kagome. Tonight is supposed to be stress-free. Just trust me.”

Still unhappy with their plans for the evening, she begrudgingly followed him out of the house, stomping her boots rather childishly through the snow. Deep down, she had to admit she had been feeling very disorganized as of late. Months ago, she would’ve had plenty of time to hang out with her friends and study for school. But recently, it felt like her schedule had been stretched to its limits – like she had to squeeze in time for everything.

Inuyasha had taken note of her anxiety rather quickly, used to being on the receiving end of her short-tempered responses. Once school had finished for the semester, he had forced her to keep an entire Saturday night open to spend time alone together – just the two of them.

Gnawing on her thumbnail restlessly, she stayed quiet as the soft tunes of Christmas music played over the stereo in his beat-up red Ford truck. Glittering lights flashed by the window as they drove to a nearby pond that always froze over during this time of year.

Under a black marble sky, Kagome climbed out of the truck and surveyed the area. People already mingled together around the rim of the pond, some making snow angels or having snowball fights, others huddled together to enjoy cups of hot chocolate they had purchased from a vendor nearby. A few had taken advantage of the seasonal ice rink, spinning expertly or helping their children wobble along the sides.

“I’m not really up for this,” she grumbled, folding her arms around herself, not at all in the mood for the cold weather.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like Kagome to be so uptight during the holidays. He figured something must be on her mind, but she wasn’t one to divulge her secrets so willingly. If he couldn’t fix whatever it was that bothered her, the least he could do was get her mind off of it for a few hours.

He pulled out two pairs of skates he had stashed behind the driver’s seat. Kagome’s eyes widened. “Ice skating?”

“Yeah,” he said, locking up and trudging over to one of the benches that framed the pond. “We never had a chance to go last year.”

She frowned, skeptically looking between the pond and the rusty old pair of skates that had been buried in her closet for close to two years. “I’m out of practice. I’ll probably fall.”

“Nah, I’ll be there,” he assured, sitting down and slipping off his boots. “But if you fall, we’ll fall together.”

A rosy tint grew in her cheeks as she slowly lowered herself onto the cold bench beside him. She looked out across the smiling faces of the other townsfolk, laughing cheerfully and enjoying the winter weather. The small hills in the distance remained practically untouched, the lights bordering the pond sparkling off the blanket of snow that had fallen earlier in the day. Everyone had donned their winter coats, each hue darker and richer than the next, a stark contrast against the snow-covered trees.

Inuyasha finished lacing up his shakes before turning to her expectantly. Kagome huffed with reluctance and slid on her skates, which he quickly began to lace up.

“I can do it,” she mumbled.

“I know.”

Her heart pounded in her chest like reindeer hooves as his fingers skimmed the flesh of her ankle, his warm breath mingling with her own as he bent his head close to hers. Confusion fluttered just beneath the surface of her troubled thoughts. Her puppy-dog love for Inuyasha had changed and she didn’t know why or how. They had been together for the better part of almost two years, but it felt different now, and she had begun to wonder if they had a future together – not just a future in the spring, but a future that would last a lifetime.

She had confessed her feelings to Sango a few weeks ago, and the brunette had laughed.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” And although Kagome had chuckled and waved it aside, she had never actually answered Sango’s question.

Was she in love with Inuyasha? Was this what love felt like? Did… Did he feel the same way? Or was she still just a crush to him?

“Kagome, you comin’?”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Inuyasha had stood and held out his hand to help her up. She blushed and took his offered gesture before they both staggered over to the entrance of the pond. She tried to keep her legs as steady as possible as she stepped out onto the rink, trying to get used to the friction of the ice beneath her feet. Inuyasha wrapped his hand tightly around hers, letting her hold onto the edge for balance.

Kagome clutched onto the side, people flying past as she attempted to hobble along. She was frightened, her body stiff, making it hard to have a fluid movement with her skates. “Loosen up,” Inuyasha instructed as he glided easily next to her.

She sent him a cold glare, mentally cursing his ice hockey habits from when he was a kid. He had only played for one season, but his skills from skating had stuck with him since then. Every year, ice skating was just like riding a bike for him.

“I don’t want to fall,” she bit back, a tad annoyed at his easy-going attitude right now.

He scoffed. “You can’t be afraid to fall,” he said, pulling her free from the wall. “Otherwise you’ll never have any fun.”

Eyes wide, Kagome watched almost helplessly as the wall moved further away, and she clung to Inuyasha’s arm with a death grip.

He rolled his eyes, gently peeling away her hands and holding her at arm’s length. “Just put one skate in front of the other,” he coaxed, letting go.

“Inuyasha!” she called after him, arms flapping to keep her balance. “Don’t let go!”

He chuckled at her expense. “Come on. Just relax and have fun.”

She swallowed thickly, sending him another glare, before taking a deep breath. I can do this, she told herself, working up the courage to start moving her skates.

Kagome precariously skated forward, taking longer and longer strokes, one foot after the other. Then she glided forward a short distance, and slowly her fear began melting away. Inuyasha had disappeared ahead of her, lost in the crowd of other skaters, but she knew he would come back for her. He always did.

She listened to the crunch of metal against ice as she skated around the pond. The murmur of voices and children’s laughter reached her ears as other people flew past her. Her thoughts were lost in the blur of wind blowing through her hair, making her feel like she was floating above the ice.

All the stress and anxiety she had felt over the last few months slowly melted away. For the first time in weeks, she felt free – like she was a kid again, gliding across her kitchen floor in her socks.

It brought back memories of years ago, when they had all been innocent children. One particular snowy day had been too cold for them to enjoy the ice rink, so Kagome, Inuyasha, and the rest of their friends gathered at her house to sip on hot cocoa and watch Christmas movies. Her mother had been baking cookies, the warm smell of gingerbread and brown sugar filling the air, as they all curled up on the couch.

She had brought her knees to her chest, feeling the sofa rock beneath her as Inuyasha shifted beside her. The glittering white lights of the Christmas tree sparkled off the linoleum floor and wind howled outside with the first snowfall of winter.

A soft smile came to her lips. The rhythmic pacing of her skates – ice, metal, crunch, swift, crunch – helped her to completely zone out. She forgot why she had been so anxious, forgot her concerns regarding her feelings for Inuyasha, and even forgot how annoyed she had been for being pushed to come here in the first place. She forgot all her troubles, and everyone around her. She focused on the cool night air in her lungs, the icy breeze whispering against her cheeks.

“Watch out!”

Kagome whipped her head around just in time to see a boy in a blue jacket flailing toward her. She screamed and tried to get out of the way, and even though he missed her, the action sent her off-balance. Arms waving in the air like a propeller, she struggled to keep composure, but found the slippery ice too much for her uncoordinated skating skills.

“Kagome!”

Strong arms wrapped around her waist just as she started falling, pulling her toward a warm-bodied chest as they both fell to the ice. Kagome squeezed her eyes shut on impact, but only felt the person underneath her instead of the hard, frozen water.

She looked down to see Inuyasha’s amber eyes peering up at her, a hiss of pain escaping his lips. “Kagome… You okay?”

Her eyes widened. “Inuyasha! I’m fine, are you okay?” she asked, glancing over him quickly as she climbed off him and to the side. “Did you hit your head?”

He sat up, rubbing his right shoulder where he took most of the impact. “Nah, I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”

“I’m sorry,” Kagome began to apologize, feeling terrible for her clumsy balance.

“Not your fault.” He nodded his head in the direction of the kid, who was crying to his parents more out of fear than any actual injuries. “Besides.” He looked back at her and smirked. “I told you we’d fall together, didn’t I?”

Amber eyes glowed from the bright lights surrounding the pond, and Kagome felt her breath catch. People skated around the couple as they sat there on the cold ice, but Kagome didn’t feel cold at all. Her stomach pooled with unfamiliar warmth, their breath mingling in their close proximity, her cheeks painted a rosy red, and she leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss.

Caught by surprise, Inuyasha almost fell backwards again, but managed to catch Kagome’s weight with his own, and leaned one hand against the ice as another curled into her long, raven hair. The kiss was rough and passionate, so different than what they had shared before.

As they broke apart, breaths shaky and uneven, she looked down at him. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said, sitting up straighter with a boyish smile. “But what was that for?”

And just like a Christmas night years ago, Kagome found herself fearless and the words were falling from her lips before she could stop them. “I’m in love with you.”

He froze, eyes widening a little in bewilderment. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. “Ka-Kagome…”

She pulled away, fear suddenly clutching at her throat. “S-Sorry, I-I mean…”

Inuyasha furrowed his brows, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Kagome… Is that what’s been bothering you lately?”

Her breath hitched. He knew? Inuyasha had never been the perceptive type. He always took everything at face value, and never looked deeper than the surface. But somehow, he had known she had been troubled this entire time. He had known something had been ailing her.

He sighed, smiling as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You silly girl. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

Kagome’s eyes flickered over his with confusion.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” he confessed, his face growing warm. “And I’ve been in love with you since that night under the mistletoe.”

She shook her head. “I-I don’t understand.”

But then, just as those words left her mouth, she suddenly did. All the days he would walk her home from school or silently sit beside her as she studied. All the nights he would wrap her in his arms to comfort her or watch a cheesy romance movie he never cared for.

All the winter evenings, just like tonight, that they would spend together on a cold, starry night.

Her heart eased as she smiled, laughter bubbling in her chest as she realized how silly she really had been. How could she ever doubt that Inuyasha loved her? How could she ever doubt she would spend forever and a day with him?

Before she could say anything, Inuyasha wrapped his hands around her scarf and pulled her in for a kiss.

[perspectivepodcast]

[Transcript] Side B: Rain

It was raining when I thought I had understood. It was raining on that spring night, when I danced on the roof to ‘La valse à mille temps’ by Jacques Brel in my socks. It was raining on that night I was wearing make-up, when he gave me a lift on his bike, and he told me he’d never believe I’d take out an umbrella instead of just letting myself be soaked.

Maybe it’s because I was born in winter. Or because I am made of earth and sky. Maybe it’s because I have longed more than anything for the rain to teach me how to let go. But I believe I’ve known rain since before I could know anything.

Because that is what rain does: to exist, it lets go. Albeit in uncountable different ways. When I was living in the monster city, or in the silent royal city, it didn’t rain in the same way it did in the foggy jewel city. I used to say: ‘This is not my rain, falling now. My rain falls differently, this rain is not letting go of anything: my rain, to exist, lets go.’

Is rain woman or man? It’s been both and neither and at the same time. It’s been a flow and a drizzle; it can shut everything down in exhaustion, or break down, free, and release; it can fall like remembering, or fall like forgetting.

It has been a long standing belief of the people living in the valleys surrounding the Mediterranean Sea that you can recognize where the different kinds of rain come from, distinguishing those that just freed themselves of salt water from those that the Mediterranean sun has wrung from parched lands.

Rain rhymes with pain, and I believe that’s the main reason why it’s been featured substantially in song lyrics since song had lyrics. And yet, sometimes I am moved by what writers have come up with when they talk about rain. Axl Rose gets me every time when he sings that: ‘She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain’. Did he know that Gustave Flaubert wrote of Madame Bovary: ‘Et elle était ravissante à voir, avec son regard où tremblait une larme, comme l'eau d'un orage dans un calice bleu.’ (‘And she was ravishing to look at, with those eyes in which a tear still trembled, like the water from a storm cupped in a blue flower.’)?

It was raining on that spring day when I was biking back home completely drenched, and a man biking in front of me was whistling ‘Under the Sea’ and I knew that nothing, not even the rain, could drown us if we didn’t let it. It was raining that time when I came out of the subway and stood confounded, dumbfounded in the middle of the street, wanting only to vanish into nothingness, until I was completely soaked, and an old man came near me and offered me to share un petit coin de parapluie, un petit coin de paradis. I cut my hair short that day, the rain had them dripping wet.

I don't know what it is about rain that makes it so easy for humanness to flow from human to human like a gift from somewhere not human at all, or maybe from somewhere more human than anything.

There’s a song by The Swell Season called ‘The Rain’. It goes: ‘I know, I'm not what I promised you I would become. I know, we're not what I promised you we'd be by now. Had enough, had enough. Feeling bought? Swallowed up? We got hours on you now. Still on top? Still crawling up? We got hours on you now.’ The song is structured as a crescendo and I love how it recreates the feeling of wanting to let go as much as rain does when it falls over us: the ‘I don’t care’ it drowns us with every time it floods our schedules, our moods. It just needs to let go of itself, it doesn’t care if somebody’s plans were ruined, if somebody’s make-up was smudged. But that’s what I love about rain: it gives us permission not to care for plans or smudged make-up any more than it does. It was raining all the times I didn’t care about nothing but being alive.

My favorite love song is ‘Sweet Thing’, by Van Morrison. Because it says exactly that: that you shouldn’t care for anything else but being alive. ‘And I will not remember that I even felt the pain. Just to dig it all and not to wonder, that's just fine. And I'll be satisfied not to read in between the lines. And I will walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain, and I will never, ever, ever, ever grow so old again.’

It was raining that time I made new friends under a porch as the Japanese band on the stage kept playing despite the fact they were completely soaked. It was raining that time I wanted to slip away like the raindrops on the car window. It was raining when time meant nothing. It was raining when time meant everything.

When I first read the poem ‘La pioggia nel pineto’ by Gabriele D’Annunzio, I wanted to tattoo it in full on my back.

Sometimes, you lose so many of your dreams that you forget how to dream new dreams. You feel overwhelmed by such an arrogant, deaf loneliness that nothing, not even the sun, or the rain, not even a memory or a word from heaven can give your life a meaning.

‘Taci. Su le soglie / del bosco non odo / parole che dici / umane; ma odo / parole più nuove / che parlano gocciole e foglie / lontane.’

Sometimes, the smell of rain can stun you more than that of a freshly bloomed lily. Sometimes, the rain waits for you to leave before weeping over the world. Sometimes, you wait for it to rain just so that you can have someone to weep with you. Sometimes, as Bryan Adams would say, the sun shines through the rain and for a moment the whole world could change, suddenly free is all you got to be.

‘Hush. On the edge / Of the woods I do not hear / Words which you call / Human; but I hear / Words which are newer / Spoken by droplets and leaves / Far away.’

Sometimes, it rains as if it wept, as if a hand touched all the chords of the piano. There’s something in this kind of rain that sounds as if it were saying: ‘Stop, it’s enough, all of you just stop now and let me come through, let me see through you. Just stop there and shut up, shut up and listen to me.’ There is such a sparkling, violent innocence in this kind of rain that my wrists tremble. It’s frightening, slamming itself down with such brutal solemnity. There is much to wash away, to rub away. When it rains like this there is nothing but guilt.

Sometimes, I believe there are things that can only be said when it rains. Sometimes, I believe that the best words you can ever speak are the ones that sound like rain. ‘Ascolta. Piove / dalle nuvole sparse. / Piove su le tamerici / salmastre ed arse, / piove su i pini / scagliosi ed irti, / piove su i mirti / divini, / su le ginestre fulgenti / di fiori accolti, / su i ginepri folti / di coccole aulenti’.

Sometimes, when it rains you need to open the windows and turn off the music to listen to the world listening. The birds’ tweets are muffled, people walking by talk softly as they try not to fall in the puddles, the cars slow down. There’s only the sound of rain, smearing everything into something more unreal, faintly. It’s a good rain when it rains like this. The kind of rain that drenches you from head to toe, falling in big drops almost caressing your skin as they drip down, feeding the earth and cleaning the air, putting everything into perspective. Teaching us that waiting can still be an occupation.

Sometimes, I wonder how free we’d be, how magical and luxuriant, how honest and unrestrained we’d be, if we let ourselves live like rain. Will we ever have the courage to live like that? To live and not care for anything else that isn’t living?

‘Listen. Rain falls / From the scattered clouds. / Rain falls on the tamarisks / Briny and parched. / Rain falls on the pine trees / Scaly and bristling, / Rain falls on the myrtles- / Divine, / On the broom-shrubs gleaming / With clustered flowers, / On the junipers thick / With fragrant berries’.

Sometimes, raindrops sparkle like tears, like pearls slipping out inadvertently. Sometimes, it rains with heartbreaking anger, with despair, with lust. Sometimes, it rains and you feel the world is going to end. Sometimes, it rains and you feel the world is going to begin.

I never believed in hiding from the rain. You can hide from the cold, from the wind. But when it rained, I just always felt I wanted to melt into it, become rain: forget, or remember.

Sometimes, it rains like kisses on your hands. Sometimes, only the rain knows how to find us.

‘[P]iove su i nostri vólti / silvani, / piove su le nostre mani / ignude, / su i nostri vestimenti / leggieri, / su i freschi pensieri / che l’anima schiude / novella, / su la favola bella / che ieri / t’illuse, che oggi m’illude’.

It was raining when Holly stepped out of the cab to go and find the cat. It was raining when Roy Batty compared his life to tears in the rain. It was raining when Elio’s dad gave him the best advice any human could give to another human: ‘We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should, that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty, and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!’

Aleksandr Blok once wrote: ‘It’s raining today, all the trees are happy.’

‘Rain falls on our faces- / Sylvan, / Rain falls on our hands- / Naked, / On our clothes- / Light, / On the fresh thoughts / That our soul discloses- / Renewed, / On the lovely fable / That yesterday / Beguiled you, that beguiles me today’.

It was raining when Miss Pettigrew said to Delysia that she was not an expert of love, but an expert in the lack of it. It was raining when Mulan cut her hair. It was raining when Totoro appeared at the bus stop.

I believe Shostakovich wrote the second movement of his Piano Concerto No. 2 in F major, Op. 102, thinking about what rain would sound like if it could speak.

There’s a poem by Michael Krüger entitled ‘Just before the Storm’. ‘Even rocks start moving / looking for a shore. […] All that is still visible remembers / all the invisible that always, for eternity / remains invisible, when the storm / erupts.’

It was raining that time I spent three days writing him the most impossible and beautiful letter I ever wrote. It was raining all the times I can’t remember. It was raining when it seemed I could die without struggle. It was raining when I splashed in the puddles. It was raining when it seemed that life, in the end, could be endured.