#neveah desanto

[deepinifhell]

A Du Mortain simply does not care enough about humans to keep up with all the moral and scientific advancements in a timely manner. One day they're going to say something insane like "if you hold a baby too much you will spoil it" which, in their defense, is a much more modern idea than the 1100's it's just...from the 1920s.

#the wayhaven chronicles #a du mortain #the example was chosen because I'm imagining my detective #neveah desanto #just looking at Ava with such shock and horror that Morgan (who wasn't even listening) instinctually steps in front of her #but like we've learned so much in the past 900 years #and got things wrong #and then brought the correct thing back again...

[daisymakesstuff]

Some of my The Wayhaven Chronicles detectives represented by quotes from the series.

#lauren jenkins #neveah desanto #ainsley rice #my edits

[deepinifhell]

Detective: *moans after taking a bite of a really good muffin when they haven't had a chance to eat all day* M: *visibly jealous of the muffin*

#the wayhaven chronicles #this about #neveah x morgan #but it works in general #neveah desanto

[deepinifhell]

POV: you’re Morgan taking a drunk Neveah Desanto home from the bar at like 3 am.

#neveah desanto #morgan x neveah

[deepinifhell]

Mousse the cat is extra bitter because one time he allowed Morgan to cuddle Neveah while he was sitting on her lap and then Morgan got handsy with Neveah and this disrupted his comfortable seat.

They've also definitely gotten stuck in a loop where the cat swipes at Morgan, Morgan is in pain so Neveah fusses over her, and then Mousse gets jealous, resulting in him alternating between making mournful mewls of despair at Neveah because he is the World's Loneliest Cat and hissing because he's Very Tough and Scary whenever Morgan makes eye contact.

#neveah desanto #when you're scared to let the vampires into your apartment and they think it's because they're vampires #but its actually because there is a much more dangerous creature in your home already #if magical beasts were canon Neveah would have had one of those but we are settling for the grumpy cat

[deepinifhell]

If Neveah Desanto got to be something other than a detective she would be a social worker.

She would notice either Morgan or Ava lingering around the building and assume they were in need of help but too scared/embarrassed to ask so she keeps trying to bring snacks, make small talk to build trust, etc.

Farah would gleefully throw fuel on this fire by creating an elaborate sob story and Rebecca would tell them to suck it up because they blew their cover and got lucky that Neveah accidentally handed them a new one on a silver platter.

Murphy would kidnap her by standing in an alley and pretending to need help. It would not be hard.

#neveah desanto

[daisymakesstuff]

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Morgan x F!Detective (Neveah Desanto)

Rating: G

Description: A little snippet about softness and spiders and the importance of homes. No spiders actually appear, but there are webs.

-------

Morgan holds back a branch so Neveah can come through, batting away a nearby spiderweb with her hand, just in case. Neveah ducks under Morgan's hand and flashes her a grateful little smile. She hesitates before she starts walking though, glancing back briefly at the branch while they continue down the trail with a soft sort of sadness that eats away at Morgan's peace.  “What? What’s wrong?” Morgan demands. Neveah shakes her head. 

“It’s nothing," she wavers, but Morgan's patient and the expectant silence between them eventually wins out. "...Do you think we can leave the spider webs alone?” 

Morgan snorts. “You worried about the spiders now too?”

Neveah looks away, a little embarrassed. Morgan’s brows furrow briefly, but then she laughs in realization. 

“You really are!” 

“I’d be pretty upset if I came back and my house was destroyed,” she defends lightheartedly. 

“That’s happened to you multiple times, sweetheart.” 

“Oh.” A surprised whisper under her breath as the reality of that hits her. There’s a moment of panic, where Morgan thinks she’s fucked up again before Neveah recovers. “And I definitely didn’t like it.” 

Morgan rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. She hugs Neveah closer to her side. “You’re too damn soft.”

#my fanfic #neveah desanto

[deepinifhell]

Hi! 18 and 19 from the nsfw ask for Neveah?

OC NSFW Asks

18. Their favorite actions during sex—chin-grabbing, hair-pulling, wrists being pinned, etc.

She doesn't like being obviously restrained in the sense of like handcuffs or pinned wrists, but she is into hand holding, hands on her hips, and other more subtle restraints. She also likes when they're forehead to forehand, or cupping Morgan's cheek. Also, Morgan, look at her when she's being cute for you.

19. When they “dress-up” for sex, what’s their go-to outfit? Lingerie, suit, gown, etc.?

She now has a lingerie section on her Pinterest board because of this ask. In general were she with a partner who cared about that, it tends to be a more feminine style of lingerie in light-medium colors. Crotchless panties are a hard no, though.

Think like those lacy body suits, or the babydoll tops where you can untie the bow in the front. Sheer fabrics, strategic use of ruffles or bows or appliques, usually more than a bra and panties but no longer than mid-thigh.

Morgan doesn't really appreciate the dress up aspect much though, so tbh most of Neveah's sexy outfits are just those little satin nighties that are like mini dress length. Comfortable enough to actually be able to sleep and if she had to leave suddenly because the warehouse was on fire she would not violate public indecency laws, but also shorter than she would like to be traipsing about the warehouse in.

(Neveah doesn't actually think about it this hard, she's just like 'I like this one', but these are the patterns and vibes she gravitates towards)

#neveah desanto #nsft #asks

[deepinifhell]

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovely person 🌹

Thank you so much for your fun and thoughtful TWC posts and the writing you share! Your analysis about M and PTSD lives rent-free in my brain, it was so good.

Here’s a romance-themed OC question for any OC(s) of your choosing (no pressure to answer on Valentine’s day itself, or at all):

What does your OC get as a Valentine’s gift for their LI (if anything)? What does their LI get them?

Ahhh thank you so much! I'm glad people liked it!

These are all based on where the relationship is at given the end of Book 3:

Pax gets Farah a pretty rock she found and then they make slime together. Pax gives Farah a lot of pretty rocks since that scene in Book 2 where Farah talks about only ever getting practical gifts, though. Farah gets Pax a valentine's day card with a bad nerd pun on it such as: "I sulfur when you argon." She also gets one of those heart-shaped boxes of chocolates "for Pax" and then wants to try all the flavors with her.

------

Louise goes traditional, a bouquet of red roses with a handwritten note sealed with wax.

Nat also gets Louise a bouquet, but it's lovingly arranged using a variety of flowers that express her sentiments of love and affection in the language of floriography. Then she shoos the rest of the team out of the warehouse so they can have a romantic candlelit dinner together.

-----

Neveah gives Morgan a cheek kiss and the pleasure of watching her get flustered every time Morgan makes Valentine's Day themed propositions.

-----

Ainsley pranks Ava by hiding Valentine's Day themed rubber ducks in her stuff. This is definitely a prank and not an expression of affection. They then spend the day at Tina's house cracking jokes and eating ice cream while they watch rom coms together so Ainsley can pretend they aren't moping. Ava breaks furniture and mopes. The gift is that none of it is Ainsley's.

-----

Lauren and Morgan do not give each other gifts for Valentine's Day but the rest of Unit Bravo may choose to give themselves the gift of not being in the warehouse so they don't have to hear the two of them.

#pax izaz #louise langford #lauren jenkins #ainsley rice #neveah desanto #Farah & Pax will not be getting anything done on Valentine's Day unless the world is in imminent danger #Lauren definitely has some bitter memories of elementary school valentine's day celebrations where other kids' parents made an effort #but Rebecca didn't so UB should not expect anything involving Rebecca to get done #unless they would like to watch Lauren & Morgan get to 2nd base in front of Lauren's mom again #out of spite #Louise & Nat will get things done but Nat will be very huffy about it

[deepinifhell]

The Detective: 🥺

M: Shit! Fuck! I have to come up with something nice to say.

#twc holiday magic #holiday magic spoilers #neveah desanto #the wayhaven chronicles

[daisymakesstuff]

Cuddle Puddle

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Rating: General

Relationships: mostly gen, light Morgan x F!Detective (Neveah Desanto)

Word Count: 1,015

Description: While on some very nice pain killers after a surgery, the detective decides she wants cuddles. All of the cuddles.

A.K.A. I tried to come up with a scenario where I could get all of Unit Bravo into something resembling a cuddle puddle.

At the Facility Infirmary

The Agency medics expect Neveah to make a full recovery in a few weeks, and the surgery went smoothly. Nat is the one to suggest that she recover at the warehouse, but the rest of the team seems to agree.

“It’ll be like a slumber party!” Farah enthuses.  Morgan doesn’t say anything, or even groan in complaint. She’s let Neveah rest her head on her shoulder for the last half hour without a single sexual comment, which is a seal of approval as far as Neveah is concerned. 

“She would be there to rest,” Nat chastises. Neveah, in a pleasant haze from the pain medication they have her on, can’t help but giggle at the scene.

“The warehouse is a more defensible location. It will make keeping you safe easier,” Ava adds. With that practically glowing review from the team leader, Neveah grins. 

“Then how can I refuse?” Neveah says. The Agency also seems much more keen to let her recover at home once they know that ‘home’ would be their strategically placed warehouse where her four vampire bodyguards live. 

The Warehouse, A Few Days Later

After some hemming and hawing– Nat wanted to have all of Neveah’s belongings moved upstairs and Ava had to convince her that was wholly unnecessary– the team decided they would move a bed into one of the rooms on the upper floor, so Neveah wouldn’t have to walk far to get to most of the common rooms. 

Neveah is grateful for that right now as she gingerly pushes herself out of bed to check around the warehouse. It doesn’t hurt thanks to the strict medication schedule Nat has her on, but she definitely felt a lot better laying down than she does shuffling down the hallway. 

There is something surreal about the fact that she can feel the stiffness of her body and every tug or touch of her incision, but there’s no real pain to accompany it. The medication also makes her head feel fuzzy. She can’t quite make her brain work well enough to read and she’s starting to get bored. 

She wants company, and conversation…and cuddles . Yes. That one. The moment she thinks the word, she’s certain of what she wants. 

Pinning Morgan down is easy. She’s lounging on a couch in the living room, already looking at the door before Neveah makes it inside. 

“Need something, sweetheart?” Morgan asks. 

Words are hard, so Neveah just plops herself down onto Morgan’s lap. Well…she slowly and carefully lowers herself into Morgan’s lap, and Morgan doesn’t move from her spot on the couch while Neveah does it. 

When she finally does get settled, letting out a sigh of relief as she sinks into Morgan’s touch, Morgan’s eyes comb over her in surprisingly chaste inspection before wrapping an arm loosely around her waist. 

Time is also hard for Neveah right now, but Nat wanders in what she thinks is a few minutes later. Nat’s halfway through making a face of disapproval before she realizes there’s nothing untoward happening. Neveah makes grabby hands at her to distract her from her shock. It works, based on the look of confusion that spreads across her face. 

“What are you doing?” Nat asks. “Are you alright?”

“Come here!” Neveah urges. 

Nat complies, and Neveah stretches her arms out. Morgan rolls her eyes, but tightens her arms around Neveah’s waist so she doesn’t tip over or pull on her stitches in the process. Nat also indulges her, walking closer until Neveah can comfortably wrap her arms around Nat and sit in Morgan’s lap at the same time. 

“Cuddle me!” Neveah requests with undisguised delight. Nat glances to Morgan who is refusing to make eye contact. 

“Whatever,” Morgan finally mutters. Nat flashes a bemused smile and sits down on the couch next to Neveah. Neveah rests her head on Nat’s shoulder, still splayed across Morgan’s lap and acting as a buffer between the two of them. 

“What are you all doing in–? Hey! Are you snuggling without me !?” Farah demands. She doesn’t wait for an answer, squishing herself between Neveah and Nat.

“Farah, be careful!” Nat flings out her arms to keep Farah from jostling Neveah too hard while the young vampire wiggles herself into place.  Neveah just makes a pleased hum, shifting to rest her head on Farah’s shoulder with one arm stretched out to touch Nat’s shoulder, because of course she needs to be touching all of them at the same time. 

Ava arrives home a shortly after, making her way through the warehouse to check in with the rest of unit regarding her trip to the Facility. 

“Ava!” Neveah calls with a drowsy gasp of joy, lifting her head from Farah’s shoulder. “You’re all home now!” 

Ava blinks as she takes in the situation. “What are you all doing?”

“I came in and Neveah was cuddling everyone else,” Farah shrugs. Morgan grumbles, but she still hasn’t moved. 

“It’s a cuddle puddle!” Neveah adds, trying to wave Ava in with her free hand. “Come cuddle!”

Ava looks appalled by the mere concept, let alone her personal invitation to join. Nat flashes an amused smile her way, and Farah watches the commanding agent's discomfort with enthusiasm. 

“Oh, come on old friend,” Nat teases, glancing meaningfully to Neveah, “at least sit down.”

“Scared of a little snuggling?” Farah challenges with a mischievous grin. Ava’s eyes narrow and her expression falls into a determined frown. She stiffly comes to sit down beside Nat on the couch. Snuggling may be too generous of a word but, by nature of having five people on a 3-seat sofa, she is pressed up against Nat. 

“Yay!” Neveah cheers, the sound joyful but also soft and sleepy. Briefly, she stretches her arm out just a little further, fingers wiggling as though that will somehow give her enough reach to touch Ava on the other side of the couch. She finally gives up after a few seconds. 

Thankfully for all of them, they only have to sit there for a few minutes before Neveah is asleep. 

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #twc fanfiction #neveah desanto #my fanfic #have some silly little bullshit

[deepinifhell]

Neveah is a cuddler, but she is also a wiggly sleeper when not given someone or something to cuddle. This makes sleeping interesting because Morgan has two options

go to bed at the same time as Neveah and cuddle her. Morgan describes the experience as "it's like cuddling an octopus" and "I think she's trying to crawl into my skin."

go to bed after Neveah has gone to sleep already. No cuddles BUT Neveah is going to wiggle around and end up in the weirdest position on the bed while still simultaneously still somehow touching Morgan. I present you with an example crappy diagram:

#neveah desanto #neveah x morgan

[daisymakesstuff]

Through the Seasons

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: F!Detective x Morgan (Neveah Desanto)

Word Count: 2,301

Also Available on AO3

Rating: Teen +, because Morgan is still Morgan.

Description: Morgan doesn't know what to do with grand romantic overtures and impassioned declarations, so the detective shows her affection in little ways.

Summer

Neveah sets down her purse so she can slip on her walking shoes more easily. When she looks up from her task, Morgan is hovering nearby, perched against the railing of the stairwell and partially blocking Neveah’s exit. Usually, any task that has Neveah bending over would have Morgan leering at her but, while Morgan is watching her closely, there is none of that in her gaze today.  

“Where are you going?” Morgan asks. There’s an odd strain to her voice that Neveah can’t quite put her finger on, something between accusation and concern. Neveah smiles sweetly at her. 

“I’m running to the store to pick up a few things,” she explains. “It's nice out so I was going to walk there. I should be back in a couple of hours.”  

“I’m coming with you,” Morgan announces. Neveah stops and turns around to face her, head cocked uncertainly. 

“Are you sure?” Neveah rolls her lips together. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Morgan growls. Neveah clasps her hands behind her back, fidgeting a little as she considers how to phrase this. 

“It’s just that you hate the heat…and the sun…and fluorescent lighting…and crowded places…and human food…and fragranced products—” Morgan cuts her off with a groan and a roll of her eyes. 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“So— not that I mind, I like spending time with you— why do you want to come with?” Neveah presses gently. 

“Because two days ago you were in the middle of a crowd of people who wanted to drain you of every drop of your blood and now you want to go traipsing through the woods by yourself!” Morgan snaps. Neveah’s expression softens in understanding and she steps forward to close the gap between them, one hand reaching out slowly in case Morgan rejects the touch. 

Morgan does her one better, wrapping a hand around Neveah’s waist and pulling her close. She expects a crude comment and cannot cover up her shock when Morgan instead nuzzles into the crook of her neck. Neveah quickly returns the embrace, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Morgan’s back. For a while, they just stay there like that but, eventually, Neveah breaks the silence. She really does need to go to the store. 

“I could ask one of the others to come with me,” she offers gently. Morgan doesn’t understand why the idea pisses her off so much, but she scoffs before lifting her head up to look Neveah directly in the eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” she snaps, “I’m going with you.” It turns out Morgan doesn’t even need to try making an innuendo. Her warm breath on Neveah’s neck and the intense look in those stormy grey eyes has Neveah’s heart racing and her body pulsing with desire. Her next exhale is a soft, pleasured pant that works wonders for Morgan’s mood. 

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Morgan teases, her usual smirk having settled back onto her face. It takes Neveah a couple of seconds to pull it together, but she nods dumbly and manages to take a step out of their embrace. She bends down again, searching through her purse for the sunscreen she meant to put on before leaving, hoping it will help cool off the heat between them.

 It works for all of five seconds until Neveah locates the bottle of sunscreen and realizes that she can feel Morgan’s gaze on her, intense and wanting once again. Morgan’s been watching since Neveah stepped away, skimming over each line and curve of her body with a familiar lust. The feeling only intensifies when Neveah notices her attention, the detective’s body responding in its usual and inviting way.

“You sure you want to go?” Morgan asks, the suggestion in her tone unmistakable. “I could show you plenty of things to eat right here.” 

Neveah’s first instinct is to shy away, but recently she has discovered that it is very thrilling when she can manage to be a little bolder. She takes a deep breath through her nose to try and recover her composure, but her mouth is so dry she can’t bring herself to respond. Instead, she squeezes out some sunscreen into her hands and starts rubbing it into her legs, hiking up her skirt a little higher. 

Morgan’s face lights up with a genuine smile and the pleasant heat between her legs becomes a desperate aching need. She thoroughly enjoys flustering the detective at every opportunity, but seeing her get the confidence to flirt back? It sparks something more than lust. 

“Or maybe I could help you with your sunscreen?” Morgan offers, a little smugly. “You wouldn’t want to miss a spot. I'll be very thorough.” Neveah’s mind immediately floods with thoughts of Morgan’s hands on her and she rushes through the rest of the application process to try and chase them away. 

Taking another deep breath, Neveah gathers up her things and turns around to face Morgan with a smile. “Alright, let’s go.” 

The two of them enjoy a pleasant silence as they head up the stairs and through the warehouse’s crumbling facade. The heat of the day hits them both like a brick wall once they leave the temperature-controlled part of the building, temporarily deterring either of them from seeking out further warmth from their flirtations. 

Once they reach the main path, Morgan takes her usual place walking along the shady edge underneath the trees. Neveah stays close but keeps to the sunny part of the path. While Morgan’s expression remains in a pinched frown, Neveah seems to adjust to the temperature after a few minutes, tipping her head up and closing her eyes to enjoy the sun on her face. 

Morgan finds herself watching Neveah again, distracted by the peaceful expression on her face and the way she stretches her arms out to let the sun wash over her warm bronze skin. Morgan doesn’t notice the way her own expression eases as the sweltering summer sun becomes less unbearable, or the smile that quirks on her lips when Neveah twirls around happily, the light skirt of her sun dress swirling out around her. 

Morgan’s frown quickly returns once they get into town, though. The concrete and asphalt make the already sweltering heat even worse, and there are too many buildings and too many people. Her expression turns into a full-on scowl at the realization that there is not much in the way of shade for most of the path between here and the store. 

Neveah returns to stand close to Morgan’s side, fiddling with something in her hands. There's a click and, as Morgan goes to wrap an arm around her waist, a patch of shade appears above them. Her skin no longer burns from the direct exposure, and while everything is still too bright, it's a lot more comfortable without the glare of the sun shining directly into her eyes. 

Morgan tips her head up, taking note of the white lacy covering held above them. It's definitely not her style, but Neveah's the one holding it, so she lets that thought go. “You brought an umbrella?”

“It’s a parasol, to keep the sun off you.” Neveah smiles brightly at her. Morgan looks away to avoid the intensity of the feelings that flood her as she slings an arm around Neveah’s waist to pull her close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Fall 

“If you wanted to see my underwear, all you had to do was ask,” Morgan quips, leaning casually in the doorway to her bedroom. Neveah startles, slamming Morgan’s dresser drawer shut as she lets out a squeak of surprise at being caught.

“Sorry!” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow, inspecting the detective closely. Neveah won’t make eye contact, looking down at the ground in shame. Her hands fidget with the skirt of her sundress, but her pulse races at the flirtation. Morgan would be pissed at anyone else. She should be pissed at the detective— there is exactly one way Morgan likes having people in her business— but she isn’t. 

There isn’t a single mean bone in the detective’s body. Whatever she is up to is probably disgustingly wholesome, and Morgan isn’t really in the mood to deal with the strange combination of feelings that inspires in her. Neveah lets the guilty silence simmer for maybe 45 seconds, which probably feels like hours to the detective. Humans generally aren't fond of sitting in silence, so sitting in shameful silence? They usually act like it's torture, in Morgan's experience. Not only is Neveah too nice for her own good— she has the patience of a saint. 

“I…well…I’m just going to go…if that’s alright?” Neveah’s gaze flicks up but she only makes eye contact for a moment before she looks away again. Morgan turns so there is just enough space for Neveah to shuffle out, but not without brushing up against Morgan on the way out. The flush on Neveah’s cheeks as they press against each other makes Morgan feel better in all the right ways. 

Morgan’s assumption proves correct a few days later when she returns from patrol to find a package of socks in front of her door. The label prominently advertises them as seamless. With a grimace of hesitation, she opens up the packaging to inspect the socks. To Morgan’s surprise, they’re pretty damn close to what she usually wears in color, style, length, and texture, just without the seams along the toes. 

She never thanks Neveah for the socks, but Neveah doesn’t seem bothered by that. The detective smiles a little to herself every time she catches Morgan wearing them, so Morgan figures she already knows.

Winter 

Morgan plods to the foyer to grab her shoes and starts lacing up her boots. She’s due on patrol in a few minutes– not exactly something she’s looking forward to given the weather. Aside from the usual bitter cold of winter, Wayhaven is long past the fresh white snow from the beginning of the season, and at the point where every path is either a densely packed icy death trap or surrounded by a barrier of dirty snow and ice melt crystals. 

“Wait!” Neveah calls from the other room. She scrambles out of the kitchen and into the foyer with as much speed as her weak human body can muster, wobbling when her socks slide on the hardwood unexpectedly. Morgan is at her side in an instant, slinging an arm around her waist to keep her upright. The response is instinctive, and Morgan only realizes what she has done after the fact. 

“Falling for me again, sweetheart?” Morgan covers her confusion with a smirk. The way Neveah’s skin heats and her heart races at the light flirtation washes away any further thoughts on the matter. When Neveah meets Morgan’s gaze her eyes sparkle like she just saved the detective’s life. It sparks amusement, given Morgan has actually saved the detective’s life before, but also...something else. 

It takes a couple of seconds before Neveah remembers whatever sent her running over. She reaches into the pocket of her jacket, pulls out two packets of some sort of cheap industrial-looking fabric, and shakes them before holding them out expectantly for Morgan. Sounds like it’s filled with some sort of powder. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “What the hell are these?” 

“These will stay warm for a few hours. So your hands don’t get so cold on patrol.” Neveah holds them out a little further, willing Morgan to take them. She finally does, tucking them into the pockets of her jacket. Then she leans in, her warm breath ghosting over Neveah’s ear. 

“Does this mean I get to give you something to keep you warm?” she whispers, pulling back with a smirk to enjoy the results of her handiwork. Neveah rarely lets her take it further than this, but watching the detective squirm and her pupils dilate with arousal is more than enough to give her a second source of warmth for the evening.

Spring

Morgan almost doesn’t want to interrupt Neveah’s work the view is so nice. She’s on her tiptoes fussing with the side gate of the warehouse. Her usual dress and cardigan have been swapped for tight leggings and a T-shirt, emphasizing some of Neveah’s best assets. 

“What’s all the racket about?” Morgan finally asks. Neveah flinches, the ladder wobbling slightly, but thankfully holding firm, before she recognizes Morgan’s voice. 

“Sorry, I was hoping you were out on patrol.” Neveah looks back at her with an apologetic smile that always makes Morgan feel a little bad about whatever snarky comment she’s just made. She shoves her hands in her pockets, shaking her head in dismissal. 

“It’s fine. I was looking for you anyway." Her smile brightens immediately, and Morgan is satisfied with the strange feeling it inspires in her chest. 

A comfortable silence settles between them. Morgan savors the moment before her curiosity wins out. “So, you gonna tell me what you’re up to?” she prompts. 

“Oh! Yeah.” Neveah seems to just remember what she was doing. She grabs some sort of spray can and faces it in Morgan’s general direction in demonstration. “The hinge on the gate squeaked when I opened it, so I was just fixing it.” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “You know the Agency has people to do that kind of stuff, right?” 

“I know, but the sound was really shrill and I wasn’t sure they’d want to send someone out quickly for such a minor issue.” 

“The noise bothered you that much?” Morgan asks. Neveah usually has the patience of a saint, including a frankly ridiculous tolerance for obnoxious noises. She shakes her head. 

“Not really,” she admits, “but I know it’s the kind of stuff that bothers you.” 

"How do you feel about sex on a ladder, sweetheart?"

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc morgan #twc fanfiction #twc fanfic #neveah desanto #my fanfic

[deepinifhell]

Drunk texts to Morgan from Lauren:

come i did coke i miss you jobs i love i'm drunk

Drunk texts to Morgan from Neveah:

i just wanna cuddle the shit outta you and make you feel safe an loved

#neveah desanto #lauren jenkins #morgan x lauren #morgan x neveah

[daisymakesstuff]

Chapter 3 - The Morning After

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Relationships: Morgan x Female Detective (Neveah Desanto)

Chapter Word Count: 4,386 Total Words: 10,391

Description: It is a strange and terrible thing to wake up the day after a loved one has died. Thankfully, Unit Bravo is there to get the detective through it.

Read on AO3

-----------------------------

The Next Morning, in Morgan’s Bedroom

Neveah wakes to the feeling of a hand soothingly stroking her hair. She hums softly, savoring the sensation. 

Seemingly in response to her pleased sound, Neveah gets a series of kisses along her jawline. Leaning into the touch, she eventually opens her eyes to the sight of stormy grey irises and warm freckled skin. She gives Morgan a drowsy, affectionate smile— 

— and then Neveah remembers what happened yesterday. Her eyes glaze over with grief. Morgan’s hand comes to cup Neveah’s cheek, as though trying to draw back the moment of joy. 

It’s a futile effort. 

“Come on, Nat has breakfast going for you,” Morgan says, rolling out of bed with a heavy sigh. Slowly, Neveah gets up and plods to the bathroom, so Morgan figures she’s safe to get her own clothes on. The rest of Unit Bravo aren’t exactly fond of her wandering around the warehouse nude. 

Morgan skips the leather cords this morning, just pulling on her jeans and burgundy T-shirt in case Neveah suddenly needs her in the few seconds it would take to put them on. When she doesn’t, Morgan makes the bed. It’s routine, but it’s also a way for Morgan to keep her hands busy while she waits and listens. 

Neveah does a pretty shit job at brushing her teeth from the sound of it, but she rubs toothpaste on her teeth with the toothbrush and that’s good enough for Morgan. There are a few strange starts and stops, but they never last more than a minute. Farah would never let her live it down if she knew that Morgan was in here counting the number of seconds it takes for Neveah to go from opening the cap on her toothpaste to actually brushing her teeth. 

Finally, the bathroom door swings open. 

“The bathroom’s all yours,” Neveah says, voice unusually soft and mousy. Reluctantly, Morgan goes to brush her teeth. The experience of it is unpleasant enough to keep her distracted for a couple of minutes, even with the soft bristle toothbrush and unflavored toothpaste that Morgan, begrudgingly, lets Neveah keep buying for her. 

She comes back to find Neveah standing in the middle of Morgan’s closet with one of her sundresses rumpled in her hand, and that thousand-yard-stare on her face again. This is exactly the kind of thing Morgan was worried about. 

She appraises Neveah’s nightgown. It’s knee length with little puff sleeves, nothing too sheer. She rarely cares what Neveah wears to bed (unless there’s a chance she can get Neveah out of it), but there are some nightgowns Neveah’s not comfortable wearing around the warehouse.

This one’s probably fine though, Morgan decides. She wraps one arm around Neveah’s waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder to try and draw her attention back. Morgan’s other hand tugs the dress out of Neveah’s grasp, dropping it back on the shelf unceremoniously. 

“Forget it. Let’s just go.” Morgan leads her by the hand upstairs, only because they can’t both fit through the doorway at the same time.

Meanwhile, in the Warehouse Kitchen

It’s a crisp summer morning, the kind that comes before an inevitably sweltering day. Bright sunlight filters through the windows, filling the dining room with natural light softly diffused by a set of sheer curtains. 

Nat has Neveah’s favorite— crepes— cooking on one burner, and has been stirring a cup full of raw eggs for the last three minutes. 

“I’m pretty sure they’re dead, Natkins,” Farah quips from the table. Sighing, Nat looks down and confirms that the eggs are indeed thoroughly mixed together, before dumping them in the pre-warmed pan to cook. 

“I’m just worried about Neveah,” Nat admits. Her anxieties haven’t hampered her cooking skills at all, though. She moves between both pans with expert skill and timing, a pile of perfectly folded crepes piling up on a plate beside the stove. The eggs cook up to be a, very fluffy, sunshine yellow. 

“Neveah is resilient, she will bounce back,” Ava says, entering the dining room with the team’s blood pouches carefully balanced on a tray in one hand. 

“I know. I just want to make sure she knows she’s not alone in this.” 

“I’m pretty sure she knows. She and Morgan are basically attached at the hip,” Farah says, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. Ava grunts in agreement. 

“We may need to make sure she gets the space she needs, instead.” 

“I suppose that’s true…” Nat considers as she plates the scrambled eggs. Neveah tends to favor having people around, but everyone needs space sometimes. 

“I don’t know about that,” Farah shrugs, “Neveah’s never been much of a space person.” 

Nat brings the last of the food over, completing the table setting. Between the eggs, Neveah’s place setting, her glass of orange juice, the serving tray for the crepes, and the little ramekins Nat has meticulously filled with Neveah’s favorite toppings, about half of the table is dedicated to her. 

“Just…behave. Alright, Farah? Neveah had a hard day yesterday,” Nat almost pleads. 

“I was there too you kno–” Farah’s complaint is cut off by Nat when Neveah and Morgan walk into the room. Or, more accurately, when Morgan walks into the room, towing a listless Neveah behind her. 

“Good morning, Neveah!” Nat smiles sweetly at her. Ava flicks her gaze over to Neveah only briefly, but Morgan catches a flash of sympathy in her eyes. A beat later, Nat seems to remember something “ — and Morgan.” 

Morgan rolls her eyes, and Neveah gives a half-hearted wave of acknowledgment. The fact that she doesn’t even try to smile or say good morning seems to weigh heavy on the air. It’s a relief for Morgan when Nat takes over.

“Come sit,” Nat urges, gesturing to Neveah’s usual chair, “breakfast is ready.” 

Shuffling over to her chair Neveah sits down, staring through the food on her plate more than at it. Morgan swipes her blood pouch off the table and brings her usual chair a couple of feet closer to Neveah’s, close enough so their thighs touch when Morgan sits down. She keeps telling Nat to just leave the damn chair there, but Nat insists it ‘throws off the look of the room’ when the chairs are unevenly spaced. 

Farah, after sucking down her blood pouch in record time, waves a hand in front of Neveah’s face. 

“Earth to Nev? Anybody home?” Farah calls. No one else calls Neveah ‘Nev’, but that hasn’t stopped Farah. Morgan bats Farah’s hand away, growling low in her chest. 

“Neveah?” Nat reaches out instead this time, resting her hand gently over one of Neveah’s and plastering on a gentle smile. She has to ask a couple of times, but Neveah blinks and looks up at her. 

“Yeah?” Neveah croaks. 

“You should eat something. It will help,” Nat urges, gesturing to the food. 

“Yeah.” Neveah picks up her fork. When nothing happens for the next few seconds, Nat shifts the plate of eggs in front of Neveah and takes the empty plate away, filling it up with a couple of crepes. Farah jumps in to ‘help’ Nat pick out toppings, eager for a distraction from the weight of the emotions in the room. 

Neveah mostly pushes her food around on her plate, but about midway through their awkward, mostly silent breakfast Neveah’s phone vibrates from the pocket of her night dress. While generally very adamant about no phones during mealtimes, Nat simply purses her lips when Neveah goes to check the notification. 

Whatever it is does something to bolster Neveah. She scrubs her hands over her face and puts away a few more bites of food. It’s not much, but it’s more than Nat could have expected under the circumstances. 

“I’m going to go take a shower and get dressed,” Neveah says. She stands, starting to collect her dishes, but Nat covers Neveah’s hand with her own to stop her. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll take care of it,” Nat assures with a soft smile. 

“We?” Farah asks. “I did not volunteer for this.” 

“You have now,” Ava states, swirling her wine glass. Neveah opens her mouth to protest. 

“Go take your damn shower already. We can handle a few dishes,” Morgan orders. Every pair of eyes in the room turn to her in shock, but Morgan grits her teeth and ignores them. They know damn well Morgan’s head over heels for her, so you’d think they would stop acting like it's new every time she shows it. 

In the Hallway 

Reluctantly, Neveah leaves the dishes where they are, letting Nat take over stacking them. In the background, she can hear Farah chattering (unnecessarily loudly for a group of people with super hearing) about her latest obsession. The sound is surprisingly soothing. 

Neveah unlocks her phone again, re-reading the message on her screen: 

Calloway Pierson has been returned to the Pierson residence under the care of an Agency-assigned nanny. Visitation permissions have been granted to Agent Neveah Desanto. Other members of Unit Bravo may attend as needed for security purposes.

Neveah thought she knew grief, but this grief is different.  It seeps into everything like water and periodically swells up like the tide, threatening to drown her. And if her grief is the ocean, then the empty halls have their own gravitational pull. 

The warm cream paint and wood paneling usually make her feel safe, but today the walk just feels long and lonely. It gives her too much time to think, to remember that the only reason she was looking forward to this message is because her best friend is dead. Her husband is too, leaving their child an orphan. And the worst part? It’s all her fault. 

When Neveah gets to her room she heads straight for the shower, rushing to get the water on before she bursts into tears.

Back in the Kitchen

The relatively pleasant banter between Unit Bravo comes to a sudden halt. They all hear it at the same time: a distant weeping over the running water. Nat and Farah pointedly look away from the noise. 

“Give her space,” Ava orders Morgan, who is already halfway out of her chair. Morgan hesitates, but she cards her fingers roughly through her hair and sits back down with a scowl. 

“So, this is pretty awkward…” Farah says to break the silence. 

Nat busies herself taking the dishes over to the kitchen’s double sink and filling one of them up with soapy water. Farah goes back to fidgeting with the tablecloth, and Morgan gets up to pace back and forth across the dining room. 

“Morgan, do you want to come dry the dishes?” It’s an instruction not a request, but Nat phrases it as a question to be polite. The expected scoff or snarky comment never comes. Instead, after Morgan crosses the length of the dining room two more times, she grabs a dish towel and starts drying the dishes. 

“Wow. It must be bad if you’re actually helping,” Farah says, staring at Morgan drying the dishes with about as much shock and awe as she had given the actual aurora borealis. “Neveah’s not even here.” 

“Farah,” Nat chides. 

“If you have time to be underfoot that must mean all your reports are finished, then?” Ava asks, fixing Farah with a stern look. They both know those reports aren’t finished. 

“Well…about that, I— Let me just go look!” Farah takes the opportunity to flee the room. Ava stands up once she’s gone.

“I have work to do as well,” she announces, leaving Nat and Morgan alone in the kitchen. For a couple of minutes, they sit in silence, Nat washing the dishes and Morgan drying them before setting them in the draining rack. The quiet never lasts, though. 

“How are you handling what happened?” Nat asks. 

“Why are you asking me? Not like it’s my friend who died,” Morgan scoffs. 

“That doesn’t make it any easier to see the people you love in pain.” Silence settles in again while Morgan processes that statement. 

“I don’t know how to help her,” she eventually admits. 

“You already are helping her,” Nat assures. 

“Yeah right.” Morgan glances in the direction of the bedrooms, where they can both still hear Neveah crying. 

“I’m serious, Morgan. You’re making sure she is loved and cared for. That’s the best thing we can do for her right now.” Morgan only grunts in acknowledgment, but the thoughtful look on her face assures Nat that she has taken the words seriously. 

-----------------------------

Morgan doesn’t stick around long after the dishes are done, hoping to walk off some of the anxiety vibrating under her skin. She finds herself most of the way to Neveah’s room before she remembers she is supposed to be giving Neveah space.  Instead, she leans against one of Nat’s decorative tables she keeps in the hallway. 

When Neveah finally leaves her room, her hair is still wet and undone. She’s not wearing earrings or makeup like she usually would either, but she’s no longer wearing her nightgown and has her purse slung over her shoulder. 

“Where are you going?” Morgan asks. Neveah startles, not having noticed her until now. It’s not exactly one of her usual haunts. She relaxes once she realizes who it is. 

“They brought Cal back to Tina’s house, I’m going to go see him,” Neveah explains.

“I’ll drive you.” 

“You don’t need to do that. It’s just in town.”

“You could barely get dressed this morning,” Morgan scoffs. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive. Go get in the SUV.” 

The words sting. It’s less about the tone (Neveah has long since gotten used to that), and more that she doesn’t like the reality of them. How is she supposed to be useful when she loses track of entire minutes at a time, and every little task feels like swimming through molasses? 

“I’m sorry,” Neveah says, looking down at the ground.

“Don’t be,” Morgan says with a shrug. Pausing to make sure Neveah is alright with the touch, she puts her arms around Neveah’s shoulders. Some of Neveah’s guilt eases off immediately; Morgan’s small gestures always seem to be the best balm for her emotional wounds. 

In the SUV

It’s not unusual for the two of them to drive in silence. Morgan enjoys the quiet, and Neveah is easily pleased by the smallest of things. Sometimes, when she looks particularly enamored with whatever is outside the window, Morgan asks what she’s thinking about. It’s usually followed by excited commentary about some animal she sees, or something she likes about the sky, or some other inane feature that’s caught her attention. 

Today though, the silence between them is thick and heavy. Neveah’s expression in the reflection of the window is blank and dour. Morgan can’t tell if Neveah’s thinking, or if she’s just checked out again. The answer comes when Morgan puts the car in park in front of the familiar primrose yellow house and has to nudge Neveah lightly with her knee to get her attention. 

“We’re here,” Morgan announces. 

Beech Street has been left almost entirely untouched by the last half-decade other than some mild wear and tear on the houses. Nothing demolished, nothing new built, no major additions added to any of the homes. Until yesterday, the most exciting thing to happen to the neighborhood was when Adrian finally fixed the old squeaky gate in front of Tina’s house. 

If there was any damage from yesterday’s events, the Agency has already taken care of any evidence of it. Morgan’s sure the same has been done on the inside of the house as well. 

“Thank you,” Neveah grabs her purse from beside her feet, preparing to open the car door and get out. Morgan’s hand on her arm draws her attention back. 

“I love you. Call me when you’re ready and I’ll come get you,” Morgan says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I love you too,” Neveah says quietly. She gives Morgan a small smile and heads up the walkway to the door. The car stays idling until a grey uniformed Agent lets Neveah inside, at which point Morgan drives off. 

That Evening 

Neveah is quiet when she gets into the passenger seat of the SUV, looking more stressed and despairing than she had this morning. The skin around her eyes and nostrils are red and raw from all the crying she’s done in the past 24 hours.

“What happened?” Morgan asks, tone gentler than usual, though still edging on a demand. 

A trembling hand creeps onto the console. Morgan takes the hint, twining their fingers together. The sound of the engine revving breaks up the quiet of the evening but, otherwise, their drive back is dead silent. The touch, at least, seems to help. By the time they arrive back at the warehouse, Neveah smells less stressed and feels less shaky. 

-----------------------------

Neveah draws to a stop before they head into the warehouse, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, as though trying to steel herself. Morgan looks her over with concern. 

“Nat and Farah are home. I’m supposed to head out once I drop you off. Do you want me to stay?” Morgan asks. The simple question tests all of Neveah’s willpower. Morgan would, if Neveah said yes, but she shouldn’t. 

Between Rebecca and Ava, the patrol rotas are meticulously planned to be as efficient as possible. If Morgan stays, someone else doesn’t get their rest time, as much as keeping an eye on Neveah at the warehouse can even be counted as a rest.

“I’ll be alright. I’d rather you worry about keeping the town safe,” Neveah says, flashing the best smile she can muster up.

“I don’t care about the town. I care about you.” Morgan’s brows furrow as she inspects Neveah. Ultimately though, she decides not to push the issue, nodding her head toward the entrance to the foyer. 

In the Foyer

Nat and Farah are both waiting inside. Nat has her hands shoved in her pockets while Farah rocks back on her heels. Otherwise, the foyer looks much the same as usual— except the cushions of the loveseat are missing, leaving the underlining and supports visible. 

When Neveah opens the door Farah throws her hands up in the air. 

“You’re finally here!” She exclaims excitedly. “Come on! I made you a pillow fort.” 

Farah grabs hold of Neveah’s wrist and starts tugging her toward the living room. Neveah briefly glances back to Morgan, lips turned up in just a hint of a smile. Morgan thinks it’s supposed to be reassuring…it’s not. 

“Go. We’ll take good care of her,” Nat promises with a smile, no doubt having heard their exchange outside. Nat will at least, but even Farah is trying. Morgan can hear her chattering excitedly about movie options from whatever monstrosity she’s built in the living room. 

“Yeah…thanks,” Morgan grunts. She still scowls as she leaves anyway, though. 

In the Warehouse Living Room

The pillow fort takes up the majority of the living room. Most of the cushions in the house seem to have been dedicated to its outer structure, as are many of the household chairs, and a variety of clips and straps that are probably meant to be tactical equipment. 

Farah gleefully gives Neveah a tour of the outside of the fort before ushering her in through a set of sheets acting as curtains. The inside is just as cozy, with a blanket covering the floor, pillows everywhere, and even more blankets folded off to the side. A large monitor has been brought inside the fort, connected to the other living room electronics by a chain of extension cables that is almost definitely a fire hazard. Next to the screen is a tall pile of DVDs. 

“What do you want to watch?” Farah asks. 

“Why don’t you pick?” Neveah suggests. She can’t muster up the energy to do so right now. Thankfully, Farah gleefully takes to sorting through the movie pile. 

“Neveah, do you want anything to eat?” Nat pokes her head between their makeshift curtain, stooped over at an awkward angle to be able to see the two of them. Neveah shakes her head. Nat purses her lips but then flashes another soothing smile.

 “Then how about hot cocoa?” Nat tries.

“Sure, thanks,” Neveah answers, though it's mostly to appease her friend. The smile on Nat’s face becomes just a little more genuine. 

“I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

--------------------------------------

About twenty minutes into the movie, Farah realizes that maybe she should have picked something that she’d seen before. In her defense, the movie was supposed to be a comedy. How was she supposed to know there would be a funeral in the middle of the movie? 

There is a small hitch in Neveah’s breath.

“Crap! Sorry, I didn’t know,” Farah speaks quickly while she scrambles to try and hide the movie. She pauses and unpauses the film 3 times before she slows down enough to get it to stay there. When she realizes the screen still looks very funeral-y, she jabs her finger on the off button of the monitor, leaving the two of them mostly in the dark. 

“It’s fine. It’s just…” Farah fidgets with her pajamas, trying her best to stay quiet long enough for Neveah to say what she needs to. “The Agency called while I was at their house.” 

“They did? What did they want?” Farah asks, interest piqued. 

“They finished the autopsy and were asking about funeral arrangements.” Neveah rubs at her eyes again to try and stem the tears hard enough she can see small colored splotches behind her eyes. 

“Jeez,” Farah flops back into her pillow pile with a heavy sigh, “they never give you a break do they?”

“No. I guess they don’t,” Neveah says between the occasional sob. “They said an open-casket funeral is off the table.” 

“A what?” Farah asks, tilting her head in curiosity. Does the Echo World even use caskets? Neveah shakes her head to clear the errant thought. 

“Uh— like when they open the box the body is in so everyone can see it before burial. They’re supposed to look like they did when they’re alive, so you can see them one last time.” 

“Who wants to stare at a dead person?” Farah’s expression twists with displeasure at the idea but she doesn’t linger on the subject long enough for Neveah to actually answer. “Why can’t you have one?” 

“The…remains weren’t in good enough condition.” That’s the final straw before Neveah gives up, openly weeping. 

“What do you—? Oh,” the situation seems to dawn on Farah with a wince of sympathy, “that bad huh?” 

She sits up and tugs Neveah into a side hug with just a little too much force and speed. Neveah squeaks at the sudden movement. Farah rushes out another quick apology. It only takes about a minute of crying before Farah is visibly stiff and uncomfortable, patting Neveah’s shoulder to try and soothe her. 

“Think of it this way: now Tina won’t have to get buried wearing a bra, right?” Farah suggests hopefully. The noise Neveah lets out is difficult to describe, a strange amalgamation of conflicting emotions. It’s enough to shock Neveah out of her spiral of grief, and Farah latches onto the moment like a lifeline. “If you can’t have a whatever funeral then we’ll need to find the best picture of Tina ever! I can totally help with that!”

Farah spends the next few hours with Neveah, going through photos of Tina and Adrian, cracking jokes, and helping her pick the best ones. It helps, to still feel like she’s doing what her closest friend would want. Eventually though, with Neveah’s blessing when Farah gets too fidgety, Farah bounces off to do something else as things progress into less fun arrangements. 

The Middle of the Night, Still in the Pillow Fort. 

“Neveah?” Nat asks softly, peeking in through the pillow fort curtain. Her eyes flick briefly to the half-drunk cup of cocoa she brought by earlier in the evening. 

Neveah looks up over the screen of her laptop, her eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the darkness of the room. The persistent blue light from the computer helps to highlight the angles of Nat’s face and the satin fabric of her pajamas.

In contrast, Neveah’s sundress from this morning is crumpled, and she has a line of spit-up down the bodice. Her eyes are bloodshot from staring at the screen of her laptop for too long. Nat gives a soft, disapproving tsk . 

“What are you still doing awake?” the vampire asks gently. 

“I need to handle these funeral arrangements,” Neveah murmurs, rubbing at her eyes. The skin around them is starting to feel sore after the last 36 hours. 

“That’s not something you need to worry about. The Agency will take care of all that.” 

“Tina would kill me if I let the Agency give her a dour grey funeral.” Neveah’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears, but her laugh is genuine. Nat chuckles too. 

“There aren’t any family members to take care of this?”

“No, just Verda and I, and he doesn’t know so…” Neveah trails off, resting her head in her hands. “I never even called him. Crap!”

Neveah unlocks her phone, starting to swipe at the screen. Nat gently places her hand over Neveah’s, guiding the device back to the floor

“Neveah, take a deep breath.” Nat models a deep inhale and a long exhale. Despite her best effort to replicate it, Neveah’s breath comes out shaky and oddly timed, her entire body taut like a bowstring. “All of this can wait until the morning. I know it can feel…unbearably lonely to lose a loved one, but you’re not alone. We are all here to help you.” 

Neveah opens her mouth to respond, but all that comes out are yet more sobs. Nat bundles her up into a tight hug, rubbing her back in slow but sure motions and murmuring soft platitudes. Unlike the others, affection and comfort seem to be second nature to Nat. It’s an unexpected relief for Neveah to finally be able to put down all of her grief, without worrying that whoever is with her won’t know how to handle it. 

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc morgan #twc fanfic #my fanfic #neveah desanto #series; stained glass

[deepinifhell]

OCs as Planets

Thanks @wayhavenots for the tag! I took this quiz for my detectives. I crossed out anything I didn't feel really fit. Tagging (no pressure!): @megatraven ; @sealriously-sealrious ; if anyone else wants to do it please go ahead!!

Lauren Jenkins -Saturn - patient. stable. reliable. preserving and diligent. your capacity to hold focus on something you choose to is unmatched by all other planets. you were made for hard work that you love and that you know is rewarding. you are the shoulder that everyone wants to cry on, so remember you can lean on yourself when it seems there is no one else. there is nothing wrong with being self sufficient. you are justice and evenly balanced scales.

This was a solid effort to describe Lauren Jenkins in positive terms. Lauren is pretty stubborn when she wants to be. The things she finds rewarding are not usually things society looks upon favorably, but she will work hard for them.

Her self-sufficiency and avoidance of relationships is based on the fact that there weren't people (*cough* Rebecca *cough*) around when she needed them. Don't hire her as your mediator, please don't cry on her shoulder, but if an asshole needs punched she will equalize the playing field.

Pax Izaz - Earth - nurturing, generous and caring. introverted, tolerant, honest and trustworthy. you are "my phone is always on, call me any time." you are "i feel like i'm everyone's therapist." you are impressive with your stability and peacefulness. you are wallpapers of cows and fields of ever-growing seeds. you are the best friend. mother nature. ice cold water and the smell of rain.

Most of this works just...not in the traditional way one thinks of these descriptions. She's nurturing in a clinical sort of way. Can keep very finicky plants alive nurturing, not warm and loves children nurturing. Her phone is always on and she will answer, but its usually because she's hoping for (mis)adventures.

She's not particularly attached to most objects, and the things she is aren't usually coveted by others. That makes it easy to be superficially generous, but she's not virtuously generous. Similarly, she's not super attached to social power nor does she need much social interaction. So yeah, she seems very honest and trustworthy... because she doesn't care about maintaining any of the dishonesty that is so frequently encouraged by social rules and hierarchy.

Neveah Desanto - Neptune - mercy. kindness. sweet. forgiving and compassionate. you are second chances and sometimes third. you are "its ok because everyone makes mistakes." you are "i forgive you as long as you are learning." you are not held down by the demands of your ego. you believe in right and fair. open mindedness and friendship. you are mystical and magical, observant and the smell of warm bread in the morning.

I have no notes. She is problematically forgiving and idealistic and it's her greatest strength and greatest weakness.

Ainsley Rice - Jupiter - optimistic. hopeful. generous and compassionate. you are the guardian angel. you are 4:44 am and a sense of being watched over. you enrich the lives of others just by existing and caring for them. you give as many blessings as you receive and there is always more to go around. careful not to become too over-confident in these abilities. what makes you jupiter is your belief that ego has no part in caring and love. you are softness and the smell of almond coffee.

Yeah, this fits very well. Louise Langford - Venus - passionate. romantic. loving to be loved. courtship. adoration and taste. you are your own personal aesthetic. you are hand written love letters in copper ink. you are "let me show you just how much i can love you." you are royalty and class. love has no bounds with you. your heart is wrapped in chocolate tin foil. you attract what you manifest so keep believing in love. it is you and you, it.

I wasn't sure about this at first, but I think it's actually pretty solid. Louise is very much into grand gestures, romanticism, and appearances. This is part of why Nat's affection hit her so hard.

Bernadette Kane - Mercury - clever. intelligent and witty. wisdom, sharpness, anxiety and indecisiveness. you are the comedian. the "make someone laugh if they are crying" kind of lover. you dont want to think too much about anything because that stops you from just having fun, but your brain doesn't ever shut off. you are curious and never ending. forecast and shadows. the smell of clean sheets.

No notes.

#tag game #louise langford #neveah desanto #ainsley rice #bernadette kane #pax izaz #the wayhaven chronicles #these are all the ones who have at least some sort of content for them and aren't done by random number generator