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Nighttime is not any more solitary than the day.
The house is even more filled when everyone's - in theory - supposed to be inside it. Certainly, they're - in theory - asleep and not there to bother anyone, but they're still there, taking up space and necessitating quiet. He's good at that. And yet - it pulls its stifling shroud around him.
Maybe it's just that everything feels a little sideways for him. Maybe it's no one's fault really, and he's just got - something...amiss. Sebastian wishes he could see the stars. They wouldn't be the ones he's looking for - the sideways feeling closing in. They're supposed to be his stars, the ones here. The ones he grew up with, the ones he's always been under. They're still not the ones he's looking for. But the ones he's looking for exist in a cloudless sky. The night is colder, there's less damp. That's not a home either, over there, but it's not here, and he doesn't feel like everything's gone sideways there. Those dry, chill places aren't ever familiar - never choose the same location twice - except perhaps in the way in which they've been chosen with purpose, experienced fully.
He doesn't know what's wrong. He doesn't know what he's looking for, standing in the garden of a place he's always called home, despite the actual realities of the situation. Maybe there's nothing wrong. Or perhaps everything's wrong with the world, including his own place in it. Maybe it all shifted when he wasn't looking and no one told him. He ought to feel distressed, he thinks. Instead, it's just sideways, his mind rationalizing at a breakneck pace in order to avoid the pain of introspection. Maybe it's not even just introspection - he can take the world in, but he can't stop to actually think about it.
He smokes, because out here he can. No one will wake up, no one will tell him to do anything. No one needs him out here. It should be a contradiction, because without being needed, there is no Sebastian, not in the way that he's created himself to be. To be needed means he has a place in the universe, it means he's seen, that he exists. The night doesn't need him, not here, not there. It's not peace that he's sought out here. It's an escape, which he barely considers - it's a passing thought. To need to get out of somewhere implies that there is a situation to get out of. This, to him, is the absence of one. Only children are afraid of the dark. And he is, so clearly, not.
Neither a child nor afraid of the dark, but still utterly unmoored in it. When there's nothing to be done, the lack of tether becomes apparent, becomes itself one. He's motionless, in the dark, held by nothing. Alone, as he's wanted to be, but never contented or comforted by it.
what is your dark love language?
SEBASTIAN MORAN, yours is A KNIFE CALLED GRIEF. You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything. You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven't been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you'd do that for them.
BUCKY  BARNES, yours is CONSUMPTION OF A HEART UNLOVED. Hereâs a dining table, hereâs a set of plates. Hereâs your heart, red  and bursting with love. You have tried to love people all your life, but  no one seems to understand you. Your own mother perhaps forgot to teach  you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to  look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. All you  want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your  heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. You want  them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want  to be the one who ends their hunger.
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â Iâm surprised you still have that. â
Seb shrugs, looking over at the small box that had lost its lid somewhere in the reorganization process. Back to Bash. It feels...odd somehow. They drink together and talk about their problems then, but showing him now that heâs got some sort of emotional center feels more fraught. âI keep some things.â As if anyone would have been able to guess that, even family, since clearly Bash is a bit surprised by all this. Probably should have just done this on his own. Maybe heâd thought Bash would be able to avoid investigating the things heâs been pulling out of the closet. He doesnât feel angry about it, he supposes, which is positive, but the defensiveness is likely less good. âItâs not like Iâve got it all out on display.â Whatever that means. Heâs allowed to be sentimental, he supposes, but heâd rather not. âJust go through it at this point, if you want. Iâll keep looking here, though Iâm not sure Iâm going to find it.â
â Nobody move. Letâs poke it with a stick. â thespian @ seb
âDoesnât that mean weâd be moving, though?â Not that Sebastian really needed to poke holes in Thespianâs plan as if he had one of his own. He very much did not, staring at the thing like it would help him formulate something. âThough, admittedly, Iâm not sure Iâve got any other ideas.â There. He was being nice. And supportive. Of the angel who could kill him, even if they definitively wouldnât. âMight want to use a magical sort of stick in this case. I think a real stick might dissolve.â There was that sort of shininess to it that suggested there might be some acid or slime involved. Or maybe not. Sebastian really ought to do some research about some of the less-expected creatures he might encounter on these sorts of adventures. Heâd do that if they both got back alive. âYou might need to do the poking.â Since a poke like that might do a bit of damage to Sebastian if things went wrong. He looked to Thespian, then back at the thing. âAny idea of what it is? Or do we just see what happens if we poke it? I wonder if itâd be able to be punctured.â

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â I am definitely inevitable. â jim @ bucky
"I guess." Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to really contemplate the grand universal designs that might have brought him to the inevitability that was Jim. Fate or just chance? It was harder to decide when there wasnât much he believed in - or felt that he could. So maybe fate wasnât a thing. Maybe it was just Jim being...Jim. That would make more sense. He made himself inevitable, somehow. And the world just sort of let him. Maybe the world didnât know. Bucky knew a lot about that - being able to walk through life with no one noticing anything except the damage behind. âYou call me dramatic a lot. I think that counts as dramatic too.â Jim liked it when he showed some personality, some of the time. So that was probably alright to say. âEven if itâs true.â Which, again, a lot of what Bucky said was true. Jim just called him dramatic for it.
â Iâm not going to die in this hole. â
The opposite was more likely. They both knew it, too. Even if they were valuable now, what the scientists were developing meant that one day the original prototypes might no longer have value. If Bucky had time to really think about it, he might have questioned if they had much value even now. And even then, it wasnât like they were equal. Bucky didnât try to kill scientists at the same rate that Bash did, which meant they took him out more. He liked being outside the cage, even if the other wolves didnât like him. What saved him most of the time was that they followed orders to the letter. Not that it stopped some of the minor issues, but it meant he was still alive. Bash didnât get that. They hadnât tried more of his type. He could only assume they realized a pack was useful, as opposed to something more solitary. But still, Bash should be able to see the grass before he died.
âNo, you will not.â He didnât want to lie, but maybe if they said it enough it wouldnât be one. Dying would be worth it if they could die out in the sun. âOne day, you will be out.â Both of them, maybe. That would be nice. No bars between them. He didnât know how that would feel. Probably like the air after a long time in the cages. âThere will be a way.â It was stay here and die or try to escape and also maybe die, but die outside of a cage. Security was tight, but there could be a way. He wasnât supposed to think this way. He knew it was punishable. And they would, theyâd throw him - literally, but he wasnât laughing - to the wolves and not pull him out until they remembered their investment.
 night in the woods
â That was dangerous. I could have died. â â Iâm not going to die in this hole. â â What are you doing out here? Nothing better to do? â â I walked until I was arrested. â â Like how many parties are there, really? â â The food is terrible but the chairs are comfy. â â Nobody move. Letâs poke it with a stick. â You donât need your ears to watch. â â I donât need luck. I make luck. â â Iâm gonna burn this room down with me in it, live out my remaining days as a shrieking ghost. â â I was feeling pretty bad but then I walked across town and I dunno. That helped. â â I will unlock your ass. â â Iâm upset that we thought like the exact same words. â â Too bad you werenât horribly disfigured. â â A majority of those made it into my mouth so Iâm happy. â â Okay Iâm gonna go lay down on my bed and die probably. â â I am definitely inevitable. â â I am both a leader and a dear. â â Are you going to be boring now just because you died for like a whole 5 seconds? â â Now that youâre back in town I was like hey we should do crime again. â â I can do nothing too. â â Iâm not acting in a professional capacity but go ahead. â â I canât have coffee. It makes me anxious. â â Remember when we used to knife fight? â â You donât need me to, like, call your mommy? â â I like the feeling of âitâs different now because I was here.â â â Iâm surprised you still have that. â â I wouldâve liked to at least been asked. â â Iâm⌠Iâm a good person right? â â I just donât ever want to lose him. Not ever. I donât know what Iâd do. â â I listen to him snore, and I stare at the ceiling, and I think about how Iâm a complete piece of shit. â â I have really up up days and really down down days and I donât know which it is until itâs over sometimes. â â You should carry a battle axe. That would be impressive. â
âI canât do this anymore.â
He'd been just sitting up when she says it. Maybe she was waiting for his back to be turned - even slightly - to say the hardest part. Sebastian does the math in his head. He hadn't thought so much time had passed. He'd turned away and she'd spoken, but now there's no escaping his gaze when he turns back to her. It's not so bad as the chilly consideration he'd do if she'd just revealed a betrayal, but he's certainly no longer watching her with pleasure.
"Good behavior? Or is it that you're having second thoughts?" At whose feet can he lay the blame? Because this, as long as it has stretched, has not taken anywhere close to thirty years. He wonders - she is very often direct - if it is the former. He also wonders if she has gotten attached. Sebastian would never admit to such a thing, but he will miss this. "I'll clean out whatever I've left here, then, shall I? Leave you to explain that baby?"
This shouldn't come as a shock - beyond the shortened time frame, sheâd told him this. If recently. And yet, when she'd told him that it was going to be three decades and not a single one of them would care about it at this point, heâd wanted to believe it. "He said you could, as long as you told him, but I assume you've got no desire for us to actually meet. Wasnât that it?" Sebastian rather wants to meet him, stand face to face and let it sink in who Electra's been spending her time with, the man that Aidan himself allowed - if such a thing could be said for a man who was quite firmly in prison - to sleep with her. A detail he might not have always been aware of, but certainly one he could use to his advantage.
By all rights, he shouldn't consider how he might make her cry, but it crossed his mind that he might try - and likely fail, given everything. "That's it, then. Your dick has been of great use, but it's time to stop pretending? Fair enough. Reality stops us all. Still, I don't know how satisfying having him back will be. Men out of prison, they...have their quirks, no matter how fine he may have seemed while in." A light way of putting it. "Best of luck with everything. Tell me when the babyâs born, if you keep it."
âJust get out. Get out and leave me alone.â / Aidan & Seb
That's different. Usually there's a hook there, something that encourages Sebastian to do just the opposite, to stay and argue. Not this time. It feels far more final. He frowns, tries to think through anything he might have done, even though Sebastian is more than sure it's no worse than usual. Which means it's something external - he couldn't say what, but he could certainly guess.
"Is it your sister?" The one person that makes Aidan seem human. Not the only one - his family is a similar size to Sebastian's, but she's the closest and in the need of the most help. "Did something happen?" It's like - well, it's not exactly an automaton asking day-by-day questions, but Sebastian wonders if that's what it sounds like. He does actually care when it comes to Aidan, but given how they function, he wouldn't be surprised if it was taken the wrong way.
As much as Aidan wants him gone - and despite just how clear he's making that sentiment - Sebastian still does not move to open the door. "Tell me what's happened, and then I'll think about leaving." Maybe not the best time to impose a toll on him exiting the place, but Seb knows Aidan and he knows himself, and both those things point to there being something wrong. If he cannot fix it, he will go, and if he can, he will make Aidan let him stay.

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âDoes it ever occur to you that I am done talking? That I am done with reflecting upon my words and action? Canât you just take a fucking hint that Iâm done with you? I donât want anything to do with you anymore.â / court!Fiadh
It's not the most she's said to him at all, but Sebastian is hard pressed to think of many similar events. He must admit he would like to smile at her and tell her - well, he is not entirely sure what. That she's won his game? That would not do at all, not in this moment. And yet, the temptation remains. Sebastian, for all that he does not enjoy some of her methods of defiance, prefers it when she's got a backbone. Perhaps the shadow of a smile shows on his face. She will not like that one bit. He does not mean to provoke her, but he allows himself less restraint when dealing with her.
"It seems to be the case quite often that you do not wish to speak to me. All I hear, day in and day out is yes my lord, no my lord, and nothing else in between. What is there for you to reflect upon there? I do hope your mind is full of more stuff than just that, but I have no way of knowing." He'd had the pick of her and her sisters, and she had seemed the one with most substance. The forced wedding had still been forced, so perhaps she was simply the best of a bad bunch. That's a bit unfair, but not entirely when she became a mouse the moment she married him.
But done with him is a bit trickier. "Are you done with me?" This he asks coldly, any enjoyment of her standing up to him gone. "Tell me, is that your decision?" If they were able to properly talk about it, an agreement might be reached to that extent - they would be married as necessary, but their relationship as it currently stood would end. Others at the court had done so. But if she spoke like this, she would get none of these considerations. "You will remember that we have no son. You have not done what is required of you yet. Only then - or if you prove yourself utterly incapable of a son - then you may find yourself done with me. But luckily, there is very little speaking needed to fulfill that, beyond knowing if you are ready."
âLooking at you I see nothing but something I need to put an end to.â / James :) :) :)
"James -"
Wasn't this it, though? Wasn't this the one time that Sebastian was supposed to roll over, let himself be killed? Wasn't this the time that Sebastian had always hoped would come? He'd always thought that he'd agree with it, when James said these words. Right now, he mostly feels fear and an unfortunately burning desire to live through this situation. Maybe it's because he doesn't understand why. Maybe it's because Sebastian knows he has more to give, more ways to stand at James' side as the man rules the world. It's not over, Sebastian's life. He's not an old dog to be put down yet. Maybe he's afraid because James is wrong.
"Why?" he manages. There's been no explanation for this. Maybe that's part of it too - he always thought it would be clear when James no longer had a need for him. This is sudden, no warning, no mistakes. Sebastian doesn't know what he's done to deserve this. He's pretty sure he doesn't, but he doesn't want to say - or admit to himself - that James can be wrong. "I didn't - I haven't done anything to harm you or hinder you or - can you just say why?" What happened. What did Sebastian do wrong? Surely he did something, because James doing this for no reason - he can't understand that, can't fit that into his worldview.
"If you want to be rid of me, can you at least say why I've lost my use?" He's certain he hasn't lost all of it. He's got his hands raised, far from any weapon, hoping that James isn't going to launch himself. But he might. He doesn't often, but the man has a nearly inhuman speed when he wants to. If he wants Sebastian to bleed, he will make it happen. Seb knows that for other reasons, of course, but this is serious. This isn't James teasing about taking a rib or two. This is a James who would tear them out of him if he could, never mind the blood. That's what scares Sebastian - that James might be wrong, and that James has deviated - or seems likely to - from his rules. The rules that govern him are the rules of the universe. Or so Sebastian thought. That's what it is - the universe is coming unpinned and he doesn't know how to fix it. The weight of the sky falling will crush him when all he wants to do is keep holding it up. If anyone was strong enough to do that, it'd be Seb. But it's becoming clear, that the sky will crush him, wants him to become dust between a rock and a hard place. "James, please."
worthless-weight-in-goldâ:
Maybe she should get a taser. Maybe Frank could teach her how to shoot a gun, and then she could get a gun. And then get arrested for shooting someone, probably. Vigilantism was pretty illegal, if Eun Yoo was remembering right. Self defense wasnât, though. âThat was pretty good shooting.â Probably. It had successfully stopped them from moving, and Eun Yoo was relatively sure he hadnât fired a ton of misses, so she was confident sheâd sound like she knew what she was talking about. âHave you ever thought about maybe teaching someone else how to shoot?â Maybe some poor defenseless young adult?
âFuck that.â Doctor â with what fucking money? Yeah, no, she didnât want to go broke just because she had a few cuts. She inched away from Frank when he offered to look at it, but then paused and took a confident step back towards him. âSure. If you want.â Since he was so worried about it, might as well let him make sure. She still was also concerned one of the guysâ blood had made it in, there was no way those two werenât riddled with diseases. âIâm not jumpy.â She bit out, which absolutely didnât disprove her point, and crossed her arms. âOkay, good. Fine.â No stalking, then. Eun Yoo hands dropped slightly, to be resting on her elbows instead of choked up almost to her shoulders. âMaybe. Yeah. I still donât want you to enter my apartment, though, so if you want to check the cut itâs gotta be somewhere else.â
A nod, quick smile. Yeah, heâs pretty good. Couldnât avoid that with his current occupation or with his old one. Lift of a shoulder. âMightâve been." It was, but Frank wasnât gonna brag, not to some little girl. Maybe not so much of a little girl, if thatâs what she was asking. Shooting a gun would grow her up pretty fast, but it seemed like the world wasnât all that interested in keeping her safe. âI might.â Another calculating look at her. He could. She didnât have anyone. âYou gotta be sure about it. Iâm not the easiest teacher.â Good at threats and warnings, not great at soft. But thatâs how sheâd learn. Better have her head on straight if she came to combat.
Soft exhale, the suggestion of a laugh. âYeah, I get it.â He also got her not wanting to stick around. Wasnât really the sort of guy anyone wanted to meet in a dark alley, whether he was a threat to them or not. Especially not with the bodies around. Still, she seemed full enough of surprises as she took a step forward again. Yeah, heâd teach her to shoot, for sure. Had enough backbone for it, even if she was hesitating now. âItâs about you too. Just a check where youâre hurt and if youâre done, Iâll stop when you say the word.â Easy out. Frank wasnât in the business of taking prisoners, for the most part. A look. She was jumpy and they both knew it. âItâs all up to you.â Reassuring, or he was trying to be. He shrugged. Understandable. âCould take you to my place, if you want to trust me that much. Or a diner. Not great if youâre bleeding out, but bright lights and other people around.â
âI donât want to talk to you right now.â / Leo & Bucky
Well then. Bucky's proud of Leo for being able to say that, but he's not as happy about leaving Leo on his own with his thoughts, so he doesn't turn to go just yet. Flesh fingers tap at prosthetic wrist. "That's fine. Can I sit or do you want me gone even if I'm not talking?" Bucky must've pushed a little too far earlier. He never wants to upset Leo too much, but sometimes they have to do their little question and answer sessions to get through some of Leo's hangups. Which again, it's not like Bucky can blame him for them. Still, when the man can't admit when something's too much or when he wants to stop, it makes it a lot harder to not ask one question too many.
He'll wait for Leo to respond before he thinks about getting any closer. "Last things I'll say - if you don't want me here or if you do. If you're going on a walk or something, watch out for yourself. Don't want you getting hurt." He really doesn't, especially when it's a little his fault for it. He's not going to try to win Leo back, not like this. It'd just be a desperate move, really, something from an ego that Bucky doesn't really have. Or at least not that part of an ego. He's proud, but not so proud he needs everything to be perfect, running his way. It's taken a while for Leo to talk about anything. If he needs space, Bucky'll give him his space. And then the other two, if they want to intrude - he'll tell them to be careful, obviously, but they'll do what they think is best. "Secondly, just know I'm not mad at you for this. Frustrated about other things, but you remember what I said back there."
âIt always comes back to this with you, doesnât it?â
"What else is it supposed to come back to?" Her, he knows this. You aren't supposed to love anyone but your wife. He never learned that outright, though heâs clearly punished plenty who didnât at this point. Punished isnât perhaps the right word. Killed is. Sebastian doesnât deal in metaphor more than he has to. No point in dressing it up. Heâs killed husbands, wives, mistresses, the whole set of them, in whatever combination is asked for. He doesnât love M, is the thing. He would tell that to anyone. Those around him might debate his ability to love at all, but that is not the question. It is simply that M has unerringly held his attention without pause for as many years as Sebastian has worked for him. That could be love, if examined under the right light. In turn, Sebastian has been unwaveringly loyal to the man. This too could be love with the right lens. âYou know I could not possibly turn my back on him. Not even for you.â Iâm sorry must be assumed in those four words.
But whatever love Sebastian has for M differs than what he has for Fiadh. Yes, the two are both under his protection - one from the other, but it will never come to that.
He would never -
- perhaps it is hard to unentangle the two.
He loves her. This is a simple fact. Sebastian loves her in the way that he loves, which could be called protective charitably and possessive more realistically. Be the fix to her problems, be there when she goes numb, a remedy. Be useful to her - useful to M. Hard to move away from them. They occupy separate boxes in his mind - there is home and there is work, but work so often spills into home, so it cannot be so surprising. âWhat would you rather it come down to? What would you rather I say other than the truth of the matter? Thereâs no point in lying. These are the facts. This isnât something I can ask him to compromise on. He is already more lenient with me than anyone else.â

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right in the guts. angst sentences.
âIt always comes back to this with you, doesnât it?â
âWhy canât you just learn to let the fuck go.â
âDid it over occur to you that I never wanted this to begin with?â
âWhy canât you just look at me for one god damn second!â
âLet go of my hand.â
âI donât want to talk to you right now.â
âWhy are you â saying all these things ââ
âYou know what? I was wrong. You never really meant anything to me. Youâre broken, youâre beyond fixing, youâre not something I want to take the time to handle. Simple as that.â
âYouâre a god damn mistake, thatâs what you are.â
âI never wanted anything to do with you to begin with.â
âThis, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.â
âI canât do this anymore.â
âI donât want anything to do with you anymore.â
âIf anything, you were a fucking waste of time.â
âI just donât feel anything anymore.â
âLooking at you I see nothing but something I need to put an end to.â
âOh? Really? You thought we had a future? What gave you that idea.â
âIs this even going anywhere?â
âWhy canât we just talk about it ââ
âDoes it ever occur to you that I am done talking? That I am done with reflecting upon my words and action? Canât you just take a fucking hint that Iâm done with you? I donât want anything to do with you anymore.â
âWeâre through. I donât want to do this anymore.â
âYou were broken to begin with.â
âHow am I supposed to âlove youâ when I never had feelings to being with.â
âHaha, I donât know who gave you THAT idea, but weâre not an item. We never were.â
âIâd like for you to leave now.â
âJust get out. Get out and leave me alone.â
âWhy are you â saying all these things??? Where did they come from???â
âIf you never were happy to begin with, how come you never told me?! I would have listened, I would have helped ââ
âI donât need, or want help, what I want is for you to get the fuck away from me.â
âYouâre damaged goods and I canât find the patience to take on you as a project.â
âYouâre the kind of crazy I donât want to deal with.â
âLately youâve become a burden, and I canât handle it anymore.â
âIf youâd just leave me alone, thatâd be great.â
âOh come on, the second we got to know each other, the due date were already set on us. We were never meant to last forever. Our relationship had a deadline, and now weâre at it; so, what you gonna do?â
âThis is all on you.â
âSave your tears. Iâm done here.â
the real christmas gift for @gunmetalgrey
(nat and bucky, moments that are....kind of happy, if you squint)