#i mean hey they kinda represent her views i guess

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Okay but like, if we digging up moments from the books to prove JK is bullshitting when saying men and women shouldn't be in the same sports as each other because turns out she had that in her books and even had the male players able to beat the female ones with their sports gear, can we remember the fact that JK claims to care about women who are assaulted in any way, yet had her main girl character purposely lead another female character into the woods where the female character ended up dragged away by centaurs and in the aftermath of that, the main girl character alongside our protagonist and secondary male character with secondary male character's sister just found amusement in the trauma the female character got from what happened, with secondary character even mimicking centaurs to scare her.

[silent-raven13]

Hey Miles! What's your type?

Miles looks at his friends, "Hmm?"

"What's your type?" Gwen asked, "Like what do you see yourself with?"

Pavtri nodded, "Yeah, what kind of boy or girl you like?" Hobie stood listening them, his whole body turning into a curious colors; like soft green, bright yellow and gray with magazine and newspaper prints all over with symbols of curiosity fonts, and imagery.

"Hmm, I always did like girls like Gwen; smart, funny, serious, and vulnerable like good way. Like shows her sensitive side, I guess..." Miles explains about the girls he dated being similar to his old crush, Gwen. This got Gwen blushing so hard her face turns tomato red.

"Awe, love you too, man!" She plays off her blushing as she pats harshly on her friend's back. The two did like each other at one point, but it was at the wrong time. She needed to heal herself before getting involved in a serious relationship. Miles needs to deal with his own traumas and wanted the Spider people he was close to, to gain back his trust. So, they never went for it and slowly became close friends instead of lovers. It's safer like that.

"Ow!" Miles rubs his arms feeling pain on his back being nervous.

"What about guys! You said your into guys too!" Pavtri got close to his friend's face while holding his hand, even Hobie got close to listen.

"Well... umm... never really thought about it. I guess, the same thing as Gwen- um..." His honey-brown eyes started to drift away from eye contact being flustered. "I kinda like tall guys! Like really tall."

Gwen saw Hobie being pink, then stood next to Miles with his hand measuring Miles' height against his own. Hobie is a freakin' tall dude, being six foot and four inches while Miles only six foot. This made the teenager girl giggle.

"What else?" Pavtri asked.

Miles wasn't paying attention to Hobie and Gwen assuming they were being goofy with each other. "Umm... I always saw myself being with a guy that's edgy, likes music..." Hobie did a happy pose, showing off his outfit being punk and his guitar being, "romantic." The punker pulled out a rose being the romantic type.

"Funny, smart, not afraid to be sensitive, sweet with kids!" Hobie putting on a goofy glasses with mustache, then a book by Albert Einstein and pulls out Mayday from the blue while holding her. Mayday giggles at the punker being surprised he grab her out of home from a portal!

"Kids? You want kids!"

"No, I mean... i dunno a guy that's nice with kids is a green flag for me." Miles rubs his chin unaware of Peter 616 coming out of the portal to take back his daughter from the punker and wag his finger. Mayday merely laughs agains before waving the punker goodbye. The two went back to their world. "Oh, I always saw myself being with a black man, someone Jamaican or Caribbean but I wouldn't mind an Afro Latino or African or just black." He rub his neck.

Hobie happily stood showing off his tattoo of a Jamaican and Haitian pride alongside his West African flag to represent his descendants. Gwen snickers seeing how clueless Miles is being with his type. "What else? No Indian or brown love, Miles." Pavtri pouts.

"Oh, I don't mind that! I'm down for anyone." Miles shyly said, "I do like guys like you, Pav. Like sweet, funny and always putting a positive attitude!"

"Ohh, Miles! You make me wanna date you!" Pavtri hugs him having to nuzzle his cheek, "Hehehe, if I wasn't dating my Gayatri, you'll be my bae!"

That made Hobie jealous, turning grey with newspaper labels with prints, "Do not touch! Warning!"

"Hahaha, awe Pav, you're too nice." Miles giggles, then he said, "Oh, I like guys that are kinda bad boys... like they break the rules."

Hobie turns pink again, that is him. "Oh, and he cares about social views like Black Lives Matter, Women's Rights, LGBTQ plus umm... you know people's rights, heh. I guess, that kind of guy is unrealistic, huh?"

The punker looks surprised and exaggerated his pose into a big WHAT, with hands in the air and squatting. Gwen burst out laughing seeing how this is the perfect description of Hobie Brown.

"Awe, really?" Pavtri's brown eyes glance over at Hobie looking confused and lost. "I mean, I feel like someone already exists."

"I dunno... the guys I meet always be bums, then again I haven't dated much." Miles explains, "Oh, maybe this being a stretched but a guy with a nice accent is hot, y'know."

Hobie threw his hands in the air, Miles' man is right here. Pavtri giggles, "Miles..."

"You describe Hobie?" Gwen hums.

Miles looking flustered at his crush but the sixteen year old look so lost, "I did! Oh..." He glances over at the punker, "It's because you're so amazing! Anyone would be so happy to be with you, man!"

Hobie had hearts with his grey pop into a blooms of pinks being so happy, he picks up his friend with a nuzzle, "Awe, I love you, too, Sunflower!"

"Huh! Where did that come from?" Miles felt his face so warm, he cover his face being embarrassed by all this.

Gwen said to Pavtri seeing Hobie happily carrying around Miles like a couple. "You know... they are taking their sweet ass time to date!"

"You know, Miles... our sweet Miles is too shy and naive!" Pavtri giggles.

[ellohallohiya]

Kald-dal's QQ1 OCs Name Yap >:D P.2

Yeah, I picked out more last names for the characters without them, and I'm so sorry for taking so long to make a part 2 :,)

-

Juniper - Comes from the juniper tree, it means to produce, it also means young, and it also is connected with its berries. Juniper berries are medicinal plants, and in ancient Rome they were associated with positive qualities, such as protectiveness, life and growth, energy, purification, and cleansing. Saint Juniper is also known as ‘the jester of the Lord’ or ‘the saint of comedy and laughter’ and the man was also known for his patience. Juniper is also associated with evergreens and fruit. Juniper also means, spiritually, setting up boundaries and standing their ground. Also it’s a hippie name

Skye - It’s popular as a name in the Christian religion, but comes from Norse. But it means ‘clouds’. The name also means they are spiritually strong and intense, in both charm and stinging. To continue on Norse, it means ‘misty isle’. Also The Island of Skye is the one of the most beautiful of Scotland’s sights to see

So Juniper is healing, protective, funny, energetic, patient, and full of life and growth. So I can’t wait to see her character arc. And I think it’s kind of a long stretch, but due to The Island of Skye, y’know, being an island, means she’s kind of alone and cut off, but when people come to see the views there it’s beautiful and so amazing to really be there (the Island is like the most famous in Ireland but you get the idea)

-

Cypress - From the cypress tree. The cypress both represents everlasting life and mourning of loss. It is also a very flammable tree. In a Greek story, ‘Cyparrissus’ (another version of the name Cypress), accidentally killed his best friend and favorite companion, a trained stag, with a hunting javelin. In sadness, he transformed into a cypress tree so he could mourn eternally for his loss. This Greek character was also gay with Apollo at some point. Anyways, as a spiritual name it means natural transitions and the cycle of life

Holden - Means hold, but, fancy in old language. It also means deep valley. In the Bible, its meaning is trapped, restrained, or unable to see. Another meaning is Christian Jewish is willing, quiet, gracious, from the hollow in the valley

I swear if he accidentally kills Juniper in the story with an ax (or an unfamiliar weapon he was pushed to use more likely) I will scream and cry. Anyways, he will mourn, like a lot. But the cycle of life I guess. And he is a deep valley, so his character will get even deeper, he is a thankful, quiet, and willing guy, (absolute malewife to Juniper)

-

Evelyn - In the Bible, it means life light, ‘source of light and life’. In Greek and French it means desired and wished for. In German, the name was derived from the word ‘ewe’ which means, wishing well, winning, and being blessed. In Irish, it means beauty, birds, hazelnuts, and water. On a baby website, the name means intuitive, creative, and compassionate

Danvers - A dancer or acrobat. (I tried to search it up but all I got was how Danvers became a last name. But fan fact: Supergirl’s last name is Danvers)

So Evelyn has many definitions (as I kinda expected) and hey, intuitiveness and creativity while being compassionate seems like Evelyn well. And winning sounds fun. (Also I know like two Evelyns in real life, one is blonde and is a bit overprotective of their younger brother too)

-

Avery - Wise and whimsical, also the ruler of elves (in German). And most definitions found in forums and baby name sites do say the name just mostly means the ruler of elves (or counsel) and wisdom. The name also means leadership and nobility in the Bible. Being chosen by God, and experiencing transformation, growth, evolution, and improvement

Danvers - Originally from Norse, which traveled to mostly France and Belgium

Avery is the ruler of elves! Wow. But anyways, he grows and changes down the story (before dying sadly) and can’t wait for his arc

-

Harvie - Strong, worthy, carnage, determined, eager for battle. Really matches my first interpretation of her character. Hervey means illustrious warrior, army, noble, sublime, bright and shining. Harvey means, battle worthy in blazing iron. But Harvie sounds like the word harvest, which means gathering of crops

Pollock - A group of fish that is related to cods, but is a bit darker. Pollock is also slang for insulting a person of Polish birth or descent (it says it isn’t a slur though, but just a derogatory term relating to the fact the word means fish and cod). But the fish does symbolize abundance and prosperity, a vital source of food, and a provider of sustenance 

I guess this name was mostly chosen due to it sounding like the word harvest. But it’s so funny how the actual definition matches how I first thought her would be like-

-

Weirdo - A person whose behavior is strange or eccentric. It could also mean unconventional. Or a psychopath or somebody just not normal and unusual. Sometimes used to describe perverts in slang

Wheaton - From the wheat town. Made of wheat. Man of wheat. Wheaton is scarecrow man confirmed /jkjk

Tobin - God is good. Otherwise, the name is usually connected to Saint Aubin. But there is several versions of the name in multiple other languages/cultures

Simple boi I guess. But scarecrow symbolism, it is like a natural boogeyman, a monster. But it is also a prop to scare of birds, maybe other tributes (Evelyn’s name also means bird so Wheaton just made her go away like the scarecrow he is)

-

Carmen - Short form of the name, Maria del Carmen, or ‘Mary of Caramel’, which is a reference to the Holy Land. And in the Bible it means garden, orchard, and vineyard. It also means song. And it can be a reference to the Roman Goddess Carmenta. And it represents a strong, compassionate, and natural woman

Cortez - Courteous or polite. The name could also mean someone who lived as/near the court of a king or sovereign 

I think her name was mostly chosen because of the queen Carmen Sandiego to be honest. But Carmen is a strong, compassionate, natural woman, she an icon for real. And I think she is polite, to a degree, like at least not an asshole

-

Taurus - Is a zodiac sign that represents a bull. The most prevalent personality traits on them that were shown on google were, being intelligent, dependable, hardworking, dedicated, stubborn, patient, loyal, sensual, and devoted. Apparently they don’t sweat the small stuff, so they are calming and nice to be around. They are mentally strong and very consistent. There is so much on a zodiac sign so… not gonna say it all sorry

Rivera - Name originates from the word riverbank. Not many definitions, but it is a popular Spanish last name

Taurus is a taurus! (He’s born on the 8th of May right? Or was that Katniss’ bday?) Anyways the zodiac sign fits him (there’s probably traits of other zodiac signs that can relate to him too though) And it’s honestly just a mine of character traits positive and negative and miscellaneous when being named after a zodiac

-

Robin - A small bird. The robin symbolizes good luck, happiness, rebirth, renewal, growth, and new beginnings. Fun facts about robins!: They are adaptable, with a variety of nest types, such as holes, hollows, recesses, and even boxes. They are very territorial, to the point where their breast is to indicate territorial messages, they defend their territory through the year, and they can resort to killing other birds aggressively (depending on the bird)

Maverick - Unconventional and independent. One who shuns custom, a lone wolf, somebody who blazes their own trail, someone who avoids conformity

Well it would be interesting if her character makes a base in some territory and ends up killing somebody defending it. And I chose the last name Maverick, due to it meaning independence and usually looking out for only oneself

-

Everest - Dweller on the Eure River. It also means high point, or summit. It also represents ‘the iconic nature of what it is to be a wonder’. Like the most notable climb known to man

Sinclaire - Comes from ‘Saint Claire’. It can mean pure or renowned, and light and clear. It also means one who prays

He a dweller. And is probably somebody who can walk for very long without complaining. And maybe religious or as least believing in something

-

Lilith - Meaning belonging to the night. It is a feminine name for demon, spirit, and sometimes evil. On google it says it also represents: ‘rebellion, sexual liberation, independence, mystery, empowerment, resilience, transformation and the pursuit of personal freedom’

Maloret - Ill-fortuned or with bad luck. A luckless and unfortunate person

Well, Lilith was mysterious, she belonged to the night I guess. I chose the last name maloret because she seems to have bad luck. Not really having an interesting reason as compared to the other tributes. Getting to the cornucopia and still unfortunately still failing and dying (kind of because of bad luck, wrong place, wrong person, wrong time)

-

Harrow - To plunder or ravish. To cause worry and upset. It is a farm implement used for surface tillage. It is dragged over plowed land to break up clods, remove weeds, and cover seed. Some synonyms of the word is agonizing, torture, harass, excruciating, smite, tease, and vex 

Prairie - A plain of grassland without many trees. It also means meadows and pastures

He definitely caused worry and upset for his love. And he did die in torment or at the very least his dead body was mistreated… But I chose the last name Prairie because it also meant meadow. Most definitions said prairie meant a peaceful, calming land of nothing much but grass. So I guess he is resting peacefully waiting for his love in the meadow

Bonus!:

Marl - A loose or crumbly earth deposit. Also known as a kind of mixed soil. Sometimes fertilizer lands to help make it healthier. It is a mix of sand, silt, and clay. And it has rock forms, sedimentary

I chose this name as a first or last (or even middle name if you already had it chosen out) for Harrow’s lover. Because a harrow was used to till land/soil and help its growth of crops. Both help the soil and land in different ways, while still being different in their ways. A more man-made tool (like a richer tool like townies) and a natural help that can be used to help but with many properties and types (I dunno why I thought of the seam for this)

-

Sorry for taking so long again! Hope you enjoy reading this! And I hope you enjoy the last names :)

Gift for fav Hunger Game poster: @kald-dal-write

Also if you're a random person just seeing this, read their fic if you're interested!

[quiverpaw]

small story i wrote for featherandfawn, my warriors story, taking place a little before the official story and from another pov. kinda long

Fernpaw padded alongside her brother Nightpaw, settling down near the crowd’s edge. Eaglestar, her leader, had called TarnClan this sundown for the purpose of announcing who would be heading to the Gathering. Her eyes shown as she looked up at the grand leader, who’s stiff brown fur looked golden in the sunlight. Eaglestar’s temporary deputy, Sunshade, who was a pretty tortoiseshell, sat beside him, and on his other end was Kestrelpaw, his son and eventual successor. 

“Oh, i hope he lets me go!” squeaked a seal-point beside her. It was Spirepaw, the youngest apprentice— half Fernpaw’s age, only six moons— who bounced on her paws. Fernpaw snickered. “You only became a apprentice a quarter room ago! What makes you think you’ll get to go?”

“Don’t be mean, Fernpaw,” growled a feminine voice beside her, and her mentor Rainshower nudged Fernpaw, her pale fur bristled. “Remember, you were just as bouncy as her when you were that young.”

“i know, i know Rainshower.” Fernpaw scowled, and she moved to sit closer to Nightpaw. “You know you were being snooty, right?” Nightpaw asked, and Fernpaw nodded bitterly.

Eaglestar yowled to silence the crowd. “I will announce the representatives of the Gathering! Fernpaw, Kestrelpaw, Brackenear, Ashflower, Hailbite, Snakefire, and Sparkflurry are going to the Gathering, along with the usual High Ranks like myself.” Eaglestar hopped down. “We leave now.” 

The trek through the mountains was tough, but with generations of paws smoothing down the pathways Fernpaw had no doubts of slipping, unlike Nightpaw. He crept near his more enthusiastic sibling, wincing when rocks tumbled and as he lept from boulder to boulder.

“You’re such a wuss, Nightpaw,” Fernpaw commented, and flicked Nightpaw with her tail. “D-Don’t do that! I’ll fall!” He protested, and tripped over a root anyways. “It’s dangerous, we can’t play around.” “You really think our lives are going to end right now because we tripped on a few rocks? Get a hold of yourself.” Fernpaw skipped ahead of Nightpaw, leaving the worried tom behind.

She found herself padding beside Kestrelpaw near the head of the party as they made their way to Rendezvous. The brown tabby glanced at her, and frowned. “What do you need?” So mature, as always. Fernpaw bounced in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “Can’t you calm down a little bit? I heard there was a really cool view near the Skerry-Border, if you’re brave enough to go.”

“My father would be really upset,” Kestrelpaw said, glancing at the broad tabby who led the clan. “So? He’s your dad. Not a monster. I’m sure you could weasel your way out of punishment. Or I’ll take the blame.” Fernpaw explained, and Kestrelpaw scoffed. “I don’t weasel my way out of anything, thank you. But we really should be at the Rendezvous. I promised Hartpaw I’d talk to her and-“ 

Fernpaw grabbed his scruff and dragged him to a bush thicket, and he writhed out of her grip, spitting. “Hey!” “Just have some fun for once in your life! Isn’t it better living without constantly worrying about what Eaglestar wants?”

Kestrelpaw sighed and was quiet, then nodded reluctantly. “I guess so. But that doesn’t mean you can just kidnap me from my own clan!” Fernpaw ignored him, and ran through the bushes, and the tom’s own pawsteps were heard behind her.

“How do you know the way to the SkerryClan border anyway?” Kestrelpaw asked. 

“You’re such a idiot sometimes, you know that? I went on a territory patrol on my first day as a apprentice! So did you! Quit thinking those thoughts that you’re having that i’m tresspassing or whatever.” Fernpaw snickered. Kestrelpaw rolled his eyes.

Eventually the brush cleared to a open area before a great cliff, and beyond that the sea. The beautiful, beautiful sea. The smell of salt hit her nose, and a breeze ruffled her whiskers. She glanced to Kestrelpaw, who was silent with awe. “Impressed, huh? Are you glad i took you here?” 

Kestrelpaw fell out of his trance and rubbed his face. “No, no, of course not. You’re crazy. So what, the coast looks cool. I’m sure SkerryClan sees it every day!”

“You’re so hard to please. Fine, if you want to keep being a fox-heart, we can go back to the Rendezvous.” “Thanks.” 

***

Kestrelpaw and Fernpaw slipped into the Rendezvous clearing a bit late, although The Gathering hadn’t officially started. The Rendezvous was a clearing in HeimsClan outskirts, where four tors stood up for each leader to stand on. Legend has it that they used to be one Great Rock that split when the clans first formed. Eaglestar of TarnClan, Elkstar of HeimsClan, and Rosemarystar of AsphodelClan were already on their tors, although SkerryClan hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps they were late. The deputies and healers circled their respective tors. 

Kestrelpaw turned to Fernpaw. “I better go— father will want me by his point.” He seemed disappointed, and Fernpaw flicked his ear with her tail. “Hey, you’ll live. See you after, okay?” 

“Okay.”

Her tortoiseshell pelt was black-and-brown as the night fell on camp, yet silver with the moonlight. Fernpaw gazed up at the huge moon, her eyes shining. So large.. and bright. I wonder if the moon gives StarClan power.

A smell of fish and seawater hit her nose and the cats of SkerryClan pooled in the clearing, dispersing to converse with outclanners. She ruffled her fur. Now the Gathering could start. Gullstar lept to his tor and yowled to silence the clans. “Let the Gathering begin!”

“Age goes first, of course. Gullstar, since you unfortunately were born a quarter moon before me.. I will start.” Elkstar announced with a purr. The thick black tabby kept her eyes on Eaglestar as she went on. “My kit Hartpaw with Eaglestar has become a fine apprentice, and dearly, dearly misses her brother Kestrelpaw. But alas, the deal we made prevents our kits from ever seeing each other. So sad.” Eaglestar grunted disapprovingly at Elkstar’s snide words.

“With other news.. Maywhisker’s kits Flykit and Beetlekit are nearly old enough to be apprentices. And we have a new warrior with use, Bistortstripe.”

“Bistortstripe! Bistortstripe!” The throng of cats cheered for the new warrior, who apon looking around, was a squat looking brown tabby. It looked embarrassed as warriors and elders alike congratulated him. 

Elkstar nodded to Gullstar to allow the white jack to speak next. The scrawny fellow’s whiskers twitched, and she watched the crowd. “We have two new apprentices, Mistpaw and Finpaw. They are not here, but give your support nonetheless.” The cats meowed encouragement for the sibling apprentices, although quieter then Bistortstripe’s had been.

[bonaesperanza]

Re: clones - FUCK YEAH.

One of the TCW moments that live rent-free in my head is the scene with Shaak Ti and the Domino squad where she tells them that she too, as a Jedi, lives completely subsumed in her community and in service of its values, and that is such an... interesting thing to explore? Like how the Jedi having grown up as Jedi (without having ever chosen it) is something that inevitably shapes their view of the clones and their expectations of them?

At the same time, the Jedi are basically the clones' only window to humanity, they are the only examples that the clones have of what it means to be a human person and live life like one, and the Jedi are such... poor representatives of how most people live or think? Actually, they seem almost as much in their own bubble as the clones are?

And the clone fandom is so fixated on them being connected to Mandalore somehow even though they canonically know jack shit about Mandalore, that it completely neglects all the fun nuance in how Jedi culture might get filtered through the clones and how it might get altered or reinterpreted to fit their own situation? And how this will lead to inevitable tension due to their roles and experiences being so different while lending themselves to unhealthy projection from both sides.

I also really think canon kinda drops the ball on this because, hey, former slave Anakin! And even Ahsoka's early fuckups that lead to many clone deaths are never really filtered through a clone POV, nor does Ahsoka interact with any of the clones about it, even though having a little-sister-shaped 14-year-old be your commander because the Force has gifted her with magical abilites and then lead you into death is... an Experience, to say the least?

Anyway, yeah, I do wish fandom would do more to explore this instead of just mashing the dolls together but it is what it is I guess.

9 for Vorkosigan, 16 for Star Wars <3

9: worst part of canon

Well. I must confess I have not read all of the books yet, so my picture is incomplete. From what I have heard I am not super excited for Gentleman Jole. I'm 50/50 on if I'm just gonna skip it. But as I have not read the book itself (in it's entirety) I'm not gonna say it's the worst. Generally I find I like the later books less that the earlier ones. Once Admiral Naismith retires I am still interested in what's happening with Lord Vorkosigan, but the books lost a lot of the action and therefore a lot of the momentum. Which. Is very fitting from a meta perspective and frustrates Miles as much as me, but it means I've re-read Shards of Honor three times but still have not gotten around to Diplomatic Immunity.

16: you can't understand why so many people like this thing

I'd say Reylo but that's low hanging fruit. But uh. I think this about ten times a day about various SW ships. Jedi/clone ships especially. Yeah I'm gonna say it's Jedi/clone ships in the abstract. I respect it. Ship what you want. They are virtually impossible to escape, so I've read my fair share of bad ones and even some really really excellent ones. But I genuinely do not understand why so much of fandom jumped on these ships. There are so many complicated and interesting ways Jedi and clones can relate to each other and by and large fandom decided romance reigns supreme and won't try anything different. And that probably says more about fandom trends overall than it does about SW specifically, but it's still... How does a slave who is not a slave relate to their master who is not their master? How does a soldier relate to the peacekeeper in command? How does a clone relate to someone who has biological parents? How does someone who grew up in an institution relate to someone who grew up in an organization? I rarely see these questions answered with anything other than "by falling in love."

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. Are death gods like a class lower than Olympian gods? Minthe says that Hades can buy all the suits in the world and still stink of death and Apollo refers to Thanatos as Poor Man’s Heremes and also reeks of death. Do they smell bad, or do people just hate them for existing? You’d think they’d be a little more fear controlling death/underworld

2. for the person saying "come on, persephone being a self insert isn't bad" completely misses the point.  As a young writer I used to have self inserts until I realized that my favoritism overshadowed the narrative and didn't allow for my characters to experience consequences or be in the wrong.  This is how creator's pets get made, and no one likes those because they ruin the story and take away attention from other (more interesting) characters!  (1/2) 

We are clearly seeing this in LO.  Persephone is essentially a perfect little goddess who keeps getting powers, is probably going to be revealed as one of the strongest goddesses, and her issues (sans the two giant ones we know what it is) almost never personally affect her.  No one gets angry at her in a meaningful way unless the narrative wants us to demonize them, and when they suddenly "see the light" and go to her side, they're rewarded!  THAT'S why persephone as a S.I is bad

3. Ok. I think Daphene and Thanatos are the best ship. I would read this story...also,Thanatos is the grim reaper...how metal would be if he take down LO Apollo and LO Hades? Yes, I'm aware this would be impossible in the.original myths but HEY why not? RS is not caring for the source material

4. RS’s writing is such a mess of contradictions between actuality and intent it’s hilarious: 1) Hades is supposed to be seen as a good guy yet is portrayed as a tyrant who somehow still manages to be a Gary Stu. 2) Persephone is simultaneously overpowered (fertility goddess powers) and powerless (is just a college kid) to the point where she’s viewed as a spoiled rich brat living consequence-free and destitute young woman left with no options but to marry to get out of trouble 

3) Artemis is supposed to represent a separatist feminist yet is depicted as foolish, British and out of the loop for humorous effect by the poss poor excuse of a comic which calls itself ‘a feminist feeling’. 4) The lack of time skips coupled with RS’s need to give HxP as many ‘cute’ moments as possible makes the comic’s progress feel slow for the reader when it’s actually progressing at breakneck speed if you go by the character’s timeframe. 

5) Wants to treat SA with nuance and sensitivity (RS almost manages to do it at first) but then uses Persephone’s rape as trauma porn, a means for pushing her closer to Hades while reminding the reader of his differences from Apollo and a means of furthering the side plots (Artemis’s descent into depressed confusion, Eros and Psyche’s romance, Hera’s quest to get the mains together).

5. i genuinely do not want to see whatever reason rachel thinks up to have zeus and demeter not like each other because it's either going to be a "shock" incest twist (unlikely) or it's going to be something akin to how she made apollo to persephone and maybe zeus stole her "fertility" and thats why she couldnt have persephone naturally and why demeter isnt a fertility goddess but persephone is. like no writing choice is good in this so i guess brace for the worst from her in this regard.

6. i honestly get sad looking at old LO art because not only is all the charm gone, but the colors also got way worse. hades used to be this subdued, rich dark blue with icy blue hair while persephone was a nice shade of pastel pink with magenta hair, but now theyre all one shade of neon. there used to be choices put into the art but now its just lazy. like hades looks like a blue highlighter, and persephone like her personality is only one nauseatingly bright shade and thats it 😞

7. i feel like if at least the writing in LO was good the art would excusable, you know what i mean? and the same can be said in reverse, but both are just so bad (or was never good to begin with) that it just seems inexcusable? like at least put effort into one, not half assing at best for both.

8. i mean for all we know bc thats how how psyche normally looks the braids are just a nymph disguise that basically pops away once shes human looking again. regardless the whole thing is nasty once you think about it and idk what we expected from a white woman to begin with. she thinks persephone revolving her whole world and being dependent on hades is feminist and making a canon bi god a r//pist is groundbreaking too like ....

9. lets add to the psyche is black-coded discourse: anyone want to mention how nasty it is she was literally sold off to a WHITE MAN for eros to save her from (ignoring the fact he proceeded to lie to her while having a sexual relationship), made her loving parents into abusive assholes, and psyche just happens to be the only character who is illiterate despite being a princess? the whole thing reeks of internalized racism on rachel's part, and her now giving her braids kinda makes it worse, tbh. 

-----FP Spoilers-----

10. Is it me? Or in the fast past episode were they showed one of the muses Polymnia (or Polyhymnia)  they mixed her with Clio??? Because Zeus calls her "the goddess/muse of history" but Polymnia is acutally the muse of hymns, CLIO is the muse of history, how did they get that wrong? Her name literally means "a lot of hymns"! And why is there a muse in this??? Even she says that she shouldn't be there because she doesn't work in anything similar to law, did Zeus really asked her to make a POEM in a TRAIAL??? For what exactly? Make Persephone look bad?

[bruhstories]

Of Tattoos and Accidents

Summary: Sasha and Connie drag you to your tattoo appointment and you don’t regret it. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, tattoo artist!Armin Word Count: 1.3 k

A/N: Ha, I didn't write a smutty piece!

"Ready for your first tattoo?" Connie barged into your bedroom followed by Sasha as you were brushing your untamed hair. "Absolutely not. Is it too late to cancel?" You sighed, the idea of a needle poking your skin making you throw up. "Come on, Y/N, you had 2 fractured ribs, a broken leg and you still walked to class after that wardrobe fell on you. You can take a needle." Sasha encouraged you, her hand patting your head. "Yeah, and then I fainted during that same class." "I'm amazed, really. Remember when you got run over, got up and still came to my party?" Connie shook his head. "How are you scared of a tattoo?" "I'm just scared of needles, okay?" You sighed. There was nothing you could do to convince your friends to cancel that stupid appointment you drunkenly made. "But not scared of getting hit by a car? Come on, Y/N, we're gonna be late." The brunette grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the room with Connie pushing you from behind. It was decided: they were gonna force you to get that tattoo whether you liked it or not. Besides, how bad could it be? "I don't wanna do this, guys. Please, let's go back! I promise I'll do your dishes for the rest of my life!" You cried out as your friends pulled you into the tattoo parlour. Your hand grabbed the door handle as you were trying to resist them, nails clawing their arms. "Sweet Jesus, let go of me or I'll call your parents!" You resorted to empty threats. "Um, you guys need any help?" A foreign voice asked and your eyes darted to the source. "Hi, you must be Armin." Connie smiled, his arms around your waist as he tried to pick you up but you just wouldn't let go of the damn handle. "I'm Connie, I have an appointment with Eren. These are Sasha and Y/N." "Is she alright?" Armin whispered, a look of concern on his face. "She's just stubborn, aren't you?" "I wanna go home, please!" You bit into Sasha's hand, the girl letting out a yelp. "Y/N? You must be my 3 o'clock." The blond calmly stated. "First time, I assume?" He playfully asked you. "Come on, woman, get it together. Remember when that dog bit you and you limped back home, too afraid to go to the hospital?" Connie snickered. "Please stop talking." You pursed your lips. "Hey, I promise it won't hurt." Armin smiled. Your grip around the handle loosened and you finally took a good look at him. A few piercings in his ears, a killer tattoo around his neck and eyes so blue you could drown in them. The man looked both like an angel and a devil, and it intrigued you. After you finally calmed down your friends went into two separate rooms, Connie to get his seventh tattoo, Sasha to pierce her septum and you were left with Armin, who invited you into what seemed like a reception room. "You don't have to bullshit me, I know it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker." You took a seat on an armchair as he handed you a portfolio of his drawings and doodles to choose from. "I'm not bullshitting you, it all depends where you'll have me– it. The tattoo." The blond shook his head at his slip and you couldn't stifle the giggle that came out of your mouth. "Sorry, it's been a long day." He lied. "No worries." You smiled and flipped through the pages. "Wait, these are all done by you?" "Every single one." "Damn, you're really good!" "Thanks." His cheeks flushed red. "Um, anyway, it really all depends on the area on your body. Shoulders hurt the least." "What hurts the most?" You asked, curiosity dripping down your tongue. "Umm... feet and... " "And?" "L-lower areas." Armin was blushing furiously. Normally he wouldn't have a problem explaining these things to his clients, he wasn't necessarily a prude, but something about you made him stutter like a toddler. "Oh, ooooh, I get it, duh!" You rolled your eyes at the slow gears in your head. "I think I want this one." You handed him back his portfolio and pointed at the splendid drawing of two koi fish, representing yin and yang. It perfectly mirrored your style, as well as your personality, and you were content with your choice. "Perfect! And where will you have

me? IT! Jesus, I'm so sorry." He trailed off, your smile only making him more flustered. "Honestly, just take me out first." You joked, fingers playing with a lock of hair. "I think I'll have it on my upper shoulder. I'm not ready for too much pain yet." "Great, let's get you ready." The shirt you were wearing was loose enough for you to pull it down your arm, offering Armin both enough room to work, and a good view into your cleavage whenever he got up from his chair. He was a professional, though, and whenever he focused nothing could distract him. The first puncture made you suck your teeth and clench your fists but he was right, it didn't hurt as bad as you thought it would. "So, what was that about a dog biting you?" The blond asked, brows furrowed, eyes on your shoulder. "Oh, God, Connie and his stupid mouth... I'm kinda prone to accidents. I'm not clumsy, just severely lacking luck." You explained with a sigh. "Yet you're still scared of needles?" "Um, yes? I guess we all have a phobia. Some are scared of spiders, others of heights. I'm terrified of needles." "Yet I'm poking you." Armin laughed, the smile quickly fading after realising how sexual that sounded. "With a needle, I mean." You were beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. "Well, I gotta face my fears, don't I? Besides, I've always wanted a tattoo. I used to get those temporary ones when I was a kid." "Well, maybe you'll get some more. Oh, I'm gonna have to do the shading now. This might hurt a bit more." He let you know before getting up and changing the needle. "Got anything for me to bite into?" You joked, genuinely hoping it wouldn't be that bad, but to Armin it sounded like an invitation. "N-not really." "I'll just use my hand then." Goodness gracious, it hurt like a bitch. You bit into your knuckles, almost drawing blood, muffled curses filling the room. It amused and concerned him to see someone so determined to get a tattoo, despite your intolerance for pain and fear of needles. "Fucking hell!" You removed the fist out of your mouth, nails digging into your thighs. "Bitch ass motherfucker!" "It's over!" Armin laughed at your reaction. "It's alright, Y/N, I'm done." "Oh, thank the fucking Lord!" You wiped the tears off of your cheeks. Armin cleaned you up and gently placed a patch over your first (and last) tattoo before handing you a booklet with instructions. The two of you walked back into the reception room and you plopped back on the armchair, careful not to touch it with your shoulder. "Um, I don't normally do this but do you want to go out for a drink sometime?" The blond smiled. "I'm paying." "Yeah, you better pay after what I went through." You chuckled. "So, is that a yes?" "It's a definite yes." "Y/N, I thought you were getting murdered in there." Connie walked in followed by who you assumed to be Eren. "Ah shit, was I that loud?" "Loud? I think you guys need to soundproof your rooms." Sasha chimed in, flaunting her new piercing. Armin walked you and your friends out and handed you a small piece of paper with his number on it. "What was that all about?" The brunette eyed you up and down with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about." You slid the paper in your pocket. "Wait, Armin gave you his number? Think you can get me a free tat?" Connie sneered at you. "Oh, yeah, totally!" "Really?" "Hell no."

[rev3rb]

Hi!! It’s me again asking about the new chapter. Literally every other page had me like 😳 from either the gayness or just the plot points like wtf. I complained last time about being confused from lack of info and now I’m confused from too much info but very excited to see where this goes lmaoo

I think the illusion part was a fun lil twist. Sometimes it can be annoying when a high stakes situation turns out to be fake all along, but the way it was done sorta short kept things interesting and added to Rigr’s sly behavior. Also just Rigr bantering with Urd by being oddly sweet and saying how he was planning to come back and work together was such an intriguing 180 flip. Urd already considering the offer & being on the same page with the hostages was kinda gold. I feel like he’s already sorta accepting his fate, I’d honestly be surprised if he doesn’t decide to team up with Rigr next chp.

And then on top of all ~that~ the stuff about all versions of Yu being made for Mika?! We get it, they’ve been destined to each other for thousands of years, they’re soulmates, it’s gay 🙄 I haven’t been super onboard with Mika becoming Yu’s demon bc I want him to stay himself & have a role on his own, but now I’m more excited for how that works/messes with the First’s plan.

Oh, and I enjoyed seeing Byakkomaru + Raimeiki despite being worried for Shinya + Kureto. I feel like all the demons/progenitors relationships to the First get more complicated each chapter and I would really like a better breakdown on where loyalties lie at this point lol

Hello once again anon! I was wondering if you'd crop up!

Ho boy. This chapter. A lot happened. I can see why you're confused. While this chapter did give us quite a bit of information, we can still only speculate as to how everything fits together. There's really no right or wrong right now. I have a feeling that starting next chapter, we'll finally be able to start fitting things together. If not then we'll at least be getting back into some action I imagine. It'll be nice after the last handful of chapters.

In that same vein, I agree with what you said about the illusion. It was fun to get some action even if it did end up being fake, but not only did this serve as some fun, it developed Ky Luc and Lest Karr as well as what you said about Rigr. While we've seen Ky Luc fight before, we didn't really see him with his back against the wall. As Guren and Shinya put it:

(They tied as Guren said shortly before this but this is funnier)

It was nice to see how Ky Luc fights in a tough situation. It speaks to his character quite a bit. On top of that, there's Rigr's comment about Ky Luc being strong enough to kill a 3rd Progenitor. I'm sure that will be relevant later, possibly even explained, but likely not for a while. Not only that, but, and correct me if I'm wrong, we haven't seen Lest Karr fight before. This was a cool insight into what his battle presence is like. I imagine that both of these things will come into play sometime later. Plus! It's like Rigr said:

At the very least it tells us Ky and Lest will side with whoever Urd does.

I ish made a post addressing Urd and Rigr, but god, yeah. These bitches gay, Rigr especially. Good for them. It makes me think that Rigr always intended to return to Urd's side (in a gay way or not). After all, as he said, this is all according to plan apparently.

It's interesting to think about, but I think Urd is as much a pawn in this game as the likes of Guren. He has his own view/side to things, but he's going to get swept up in other people's messes/plans whether he wants to or not. Given his history with Rigr and it being unlikely (at the moment) that Rigr will betray him again, I imagine Urd and Rigr will be on the same side going forward? Allegiances change like the weather though so who knows. This is just the feeling I get at this point in time, and you alluded to it too.

I'm left a little unsure about how to feel about the whole Yu and Mika situation. None of what was shown really comes as a surprise. The eye being a doorway to the past was something I didn't expect, neither was The First being able to affect that vision, but pretty much everything else was. We'd already been basically told that Yus were somehow grown/created, so now we just finally get to see what the exact method is. Can't say I understand how that works, but there you go. It wasn't much of an explanation, but it's something I guess.

Mika becoming Yu's demon/weapon also doesn't come as a large surprise. Ever since he "died" back in chapter 90 (91?), this is pretty much what I expected. I'm not even that surprised that it was something that Mika ultimately chose. It's not quite something I would have speculated back when Mika first died, but after we started getting chapters that showed off demon Mika, it was something I suspected might happen. And maybe it's just me, but I don't think Mika will become any less important now that he's Yu's weapon. I wouldn't be surprised if he took a role similar to Mahiru going forward. Mahiru is one of Guren's demons, but she's still her own character and can sorta do her own thing. I don't see why Mika couldn't be the same, even if their situations are a bit different.

SHINYA!!! I, like many others, have been waiting for this moment. Never would have guessed that he ended up getting captured, but what surprises me more is that Kureto was also captured. Last we saw he was directing troops. It seemed like things were going well for him. I wonder what happened that resulted in both of them getting captured. Is the rest of Guren squad okay? Who's running the Imperial Demon army now? I hope it's not Seishiro. Hey, maybe that's what happened to Narumi. He's running the army now :) In all seriousness though, if Guren squad is okay, I could actually see them running the army, but again I digress.

I made a post talking about what I think will happen to Shinya and Kureto (and by extension, Byakkomaru and Reimeiki) here. While I too am worried about them, I think that they'll be okay. If Rigr or Urd wanted to kill them, they probably would have done it by now. That's not to say that they couldn't be harmed though. I'm just hopeful that being hostages means that they'll stay alive.

Maybe it's a weird thing to say, but because of Guren's attachment to Shinya, I'd actually say that it's likely that Shinya has some thick plot armor in this instance. I'm confident that Shinya will remain alive at least until Guren is around him again. As for Kureto... well. I don't think there's as much plot armor for him. Again I think he'll be okay? He's the representative of normal humanity in all this and there's no good replacement for him (there's lit no other character that cares about humanity as a whole), so I think he'll stay alive for at least a little while longer.

And that pretty much sums up my thoughts! Sorry this got long, but as I said at the start, a lot happened. There was a lot to analyze and process. Thanks again for the ask! I hope you enjoyed hearing my thoughts.

[backtothestart02]

Teacher’s Pet - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Written for Mi on twitter. <3 Is there any new fic I won’t start and never update? *nervous laughter* Hopefully this will be updated soon. Hope you all enjoy. It’s the forbidden college teacher-student romance au you never knew you needed. Iris is much older than Barry and the rest of the chars (minus Scott). Just an fyi.

...

Synopsis:  AU - Fresh off a break-up, the last person Barry expects to fall for is his new English teacher.

...

Chapter 1 -

The university building loomed just ahead on the far side of the courtyard. It was menacing in its stature, for what it represented. A return to academics, sure, but that was something Barry had always enjoyed. No, this building was menacing because it thrust into his face the reality that he almost hadn’t passed any of his classes the previous semester. He had a long way to go to get back to the top of his class and to a place where his parents would be proud of him again. That was important to him.

He stepped out of his car and shut the door behind him, gulping as he looked up at the flag whipping in the wind in plain view of the building. It was cold outside. There was still snow on the ground. His boots crunched as he walked on the ground and around the car to pop open the trunk and grab the two duffel bags he’d taken home with him on winter break.

His phone started to buzz when he was halfway to the building. Reluctantly, he dropped his bags in the snow and answered it.

“Hey, Cisco.”

“Barry! Finally, you answered!”

Barry frowned.

“I just got back to school. You know I don’t pick up the phone when I’m driving.”

He could practically feel Cisco rolling his eyes on the other end.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Where are you at?”

Barry looked around.

“Right in front of our building,” he said. “Think you can come down and open the door for me? My hands are kinda full.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure thing.”

“Unless you’re too busy?”

“Mid-game actually.” Barry could hear video game noises in the background. They abruptly stopped. “But for you, I pause. I’ll be right there.”

“Great. Tha-”

But Cisco hung up before he could finish.

Barry shoved the phone back in his coat pocket and picked up his bags again. Then he trudged over to the building, stuffing the dread he’d felt on seeing the place again as far down as he could muster.

“There he is! Man of the hour!” Cisco declared, opening the door just as he arrived.

“Thanks, man.”

“It’s the least I could do. Personally, I was starting to wonder if you’d ever get here.”

Barry snorted.

“I don’t exactly live close by.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Here let me-”

But Barry held both bags out of reach.

“They’re heavy, Cisco. I put as much as I could into them before I left.”

“I remember. I was surprised the zipper didn’t break.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he drawled, shifting one bag over his shoulder. “Just lead the way.”

“Suit yourself. You may change your mind though.”

“What would make me do that?”

“The fact that the elevator is under construction for another month.”

Barry abruptly dropped one of the bags just shy of his foot.

“What, for real? I thought they were going to finish that over break.”

Cisco shrugged. “Guess not.”

Barry blew out a puff of air and reluctantly handed a bag over to his roommate.

“Shit, what do you got in here, bricks? Cement blocks? Oh, I know, pure gold.”

“Told you it was heavy.”

Barry moved past him towards the stairs.

“We still on the third floor?”

“Last time I checked.”

Barry nodded and took the stairs two at a time.

“Hey, Mr. Long Legs,” Cisco called out when he was only halfway up the stairs and Barry was turned the corner to the next staircase. “Slow up a bit, would ya?”

“Sorry.” Barry stopped. “But if I stop for too long, I’ll lose my energy and before you know it, I’ll be unpacking in the middle of the stairs.”

Heaving by the time he reached them, Cisco could only gesture for him to continue. Barry had to smile a bit to himself, but by the time they reached it to the final platform, he was due for some extra oxygen too.

“We should start working out.”

“On campus?” Cisco asked. “You know who’s always hogging the fitness center.”

Barry didn’t need a reminder.

“Wally West, yeah, I know.”

“He doesn’t exactly like you.”

“He stole my girlfriend.”

“To be fair, he’s been working out longer than you.”

“I don’t work out.”

“Case in point.”

“We could start walking.”

“In this weather?” Cisco visibly shivered. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“So, what, we just stay skinny and pale for the rest of our lives?”

“I’ll just stay skinny, thank you very much. And after what you went through last semester, maybe the last thing you should be focused on is buffing up for the ladies.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He didn’t need the reminder. He hadn’t been in love with Linda, so her breaking up with him for cocky jock Wally West bruised his ego more than his heart, but it still hurt. He liked her, and he thought after a year of dating, they had something real. Guess he was wrong.

Spending the tail end of the semester trying to win her back instead of focusing on his finals was probably the reason he’d nearly flunked out of every class he’d been taking. He wouldn’t be doing that again.

Abruptly, he realized Cisco was still talking.

“You know the real reason Wally bothers you so much isn’t just because of Linda.”

“No? What is it then, oh, wise one?”

Cisco turned the key in the door to their room and stepped inside, dropping Barry’s bag on the floor for him to pick up and carry across the room.

“It’s because he skates by in his classes too. He rarely shows up, rarely puts in an effort, and yet, because his sister teaches, she has an in with his records and sweet talks the other teachers to let him slide by.”

Barry straightened after shrugging out of his coat and kicking his boots off.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Surprise!” Cisco said animatedly.

Barry was not amused.

“I have her as my English teacher this semester.”

Cisco winced. “Yikes.”

Barry scowled.

“I hear she’s pretty though. Like, drop-dead gorgeous.”

“I’m not gonna date my teacher.”

“Who said anything about dating her? She’s just something nice to look at. Maybe she’ll be sweet on you.”

“Oh, yeah, the woman who’s cheating the system so her brother graduates will give me – the ex to her brother’s girl whose gpa has seriously tanked over the last months – a fair chance.”

Cisco shrugged.

“It’s only one class?”

Barry sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.” He shook his head. “I need a distraction from all this.”

Cisco snapped his fingers.

“Video games!”

Barry considered it.

“Yeah, I guess that might do it.”

“It will do it.” He picked up a controller and handed it to him. “Here. I’ll even delete all my progress so we can both play.”

Barry snorted.

“Thanks, man. You’re one in a million.”

“Better than Linda and Wally combined.”

“And Ms. West.”

“Professor West she likes to be called.”

Of course she does.

Barry rolled his eyes and reached over to Cisco’s controller to start the game and shut him up.

“Hey, what did y-”

“Play!”

Cisco shook his head and started to play, eventually forgetting his minor irritation and focusing wholeheartedly on the game and having his best friend back in his space again.

It would be a good semester. Despite all odds, Barry would excel. He had no doubt.

…

 Iris draped the fuzzy blanket over her legs and sank into her couch. After a tasty dinner for one and an exhilarating bath, here she was ready to enjoy a few chapters of her current favorite book for the night. Tomorrow classes would start up again, and she would have to be up at the crack of dawn to be in teacher mode. It had been a solid month and a half of relaxation and freedom – minus the small inconvenience of having Wally crash with her and frequently invite his new girlfriend over. But aside from that, it had been nice.

She enjoyed teaching though, always had. Running the school newspaper helped channel her passions for something more. And when she wasn’t worrying about whether or not she would be the only one in her family graduating college, she could enjoy being a flirt to just about every man on staff. The other women envied her. She didn’t care. She didn’t sleep around. It was all in good fun. And it would all resume tomorrow morning, bright and early.

A sudden loud noise interrupted her thoughts. She looked toward the door and found to her great annoyance that it was her brother, whose lips were attached to the new girl she’d met only twice over the last month. Her eyes narrowed when she realized his hands were searching out the hem of her shirt and the zipper of her skirt.

“Uh, Wally?”

No response. Just more moans and groping.

“Hey, Wally!” She snapped – literally.

His eyes opened, and he distanced himself from his girl, though only slightly.

“Iris. Hey. What are y-”

“I live here, remember?”

“Yes, right. I know. I just thought…”

“It’s nine o’clock, and you’re crashing on my couch. Where were you expecting to go?”

He had the gall to have a straight face.

Meanwhile, the girl just inches from him blushed.

“Oh, my God, Wally,” she whispered under her breath. “I thought you said she wouldn’t be home.”

Iris got to her feet.

“You were going to fuck in my bed.”

“Well, I…”

“You were!”

“Maybe I should go…” the mortified girl muttered.

“Yeah, I think you’d better,” Iris barked.

“Hey! Don’t talk to her like that!” Wally ordered.

Iris’ eyes widened.

“Maybe you should leave too.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know. Home?”

“I came here so I didn’t have to. You know they’d never take me. They can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Yeah, well, right now I can’t really stand the sight of you either.”

He fumed. She fumed right back.

“I’ll just go,” the girl piped up again. “I’m so sorry about this, Iris.” She swallowed hard.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Both women gave him a deadly glare until finally Wally relented. He softened as he turned to his girlfriend.

“I mean, do you really want to go?”

“I…”

Iris was in disbelief. This was her apartment!

“I’m calling mom.”

He spun around to face his sister instead.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Leave.” She pointed toward the door. “Come back when you have your priorities straightened out.”

He scoffed but wrapped his arm around his girl and guided her to the door.

“Come on, Linda. We can go to your place.”

“I have a roommate,” she panicked.

“Guess you won’t be fucking then,” Iris said dryly.

Wally glared but left the apartment. Iris locked the door immediately. He had a key, so it wasn’t going to keep him out, but it would give her some peace of mind until she went to bed.

Heaving a sigh, she collapsed back on the couch and closed her eyes for a few minutes before grabbing her book and relaxing into it again.

It took a while, and she was just about into the zone of where the characters were headed when there was a knock on the door.

She sighed, aggravated, and deliberately set the book down on the coffee table. Then she got to her feet and headed toward the door.

“So help me, Wallace, if that is actually you… If you lost your key… If you’re coming back this soon, there better be an apology,” she muttered heatedly.

She was so focused on the possibility that it was her brother that she flung the door open without looking through the peephole and was fuming when she came face to face with a familiar yet completely unexpected face.

“Scott?”

“Did I…come at a bad time?”

She blinked, suddenly aware of just a teddy beneath her fluffy robe. She looked him over and debated her options. He looked dashing, as always, and the easy charm was there in his half-amused smile pulling at his lips. There’d been an easy flirtation between the two of them since they’d met five years ago, but they’d never acted on it. Now here he was the night before the spring semester started with red roses in one hand and an uncurling fist that was probably sweaty as the other.

Suddenly, she needed nothing more than to act out one of the steamy love scenes in her book. Damn it all to hell what the next day brought.

She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him into her apartment, kissing him soundly on the lips. He made no attempt to push away, and in fact moved to undress her through the far less layers as she was undressing him.

The door was shut, and the flowers dropped in the flurry of it all, and before either of them realized the gravity of what had happened, they were in Iris’ bedroom fucking, and Iris was kind of smug about it because it should serve Wally right for trying to do it first.

That didn’t mean she’d let him spend the night however. If Wally saw him gossip would spread, no doubt to get back at her, and she didn’t need either of their teaching reputations ruined like that.

So, about ten minutes after they’d crested, and Scott was laying in bed beside her with a gigantic grin on his face, Iris propped herself up and made a gesture towards the door.

“Okay, time for you to go.”

His jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey.” She stroked his chest. “You were fantastic.”

“Then?”

“We’re not together. I was just feeling stressed out, and you alleviated my stress. Thank you.” She smiled serenely.

He blinked.

“Seriously, go. If Wally sees you here, gossip will spread before either of us gets a word in our classes tomorrow. That’s hardly the best way to start the semester.”

He blinked again, still trying to process. She didn’t like that.

“Go!” She pulled on her robe and yanked him out of her bedroom.

He seemed to figure out what was going on by that point and caught his clothes as she threw them at him.

“I…uh…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in the hall.”

“You will?” he asked hopefully.

“In the hall,” she repeated.

He frowned, and she sighed, moving swiftly past him to open the door and usher him out.

“Did you like the flowers at least?” he asked pathetically.

“They’re lovely,” she assured. “Goodnight, Scott.”

Then she closed the door in his face and locked it, promptly turning and throwing out the flowers without even a single sniff. Wally couldn’t see she had flowers. He was annoyingly observant and picked up on shit like that.

She returned to her bedroom, changed the sheets, and took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat. Then she settled in to sleep with a smile on her face. Amazing what a one-night stand could do for a girl’s mood.

This semester was going to be great.

[aphrodeiities]

hey pluto !^^

how r u doing ?

I have a question it's not like astrology question but kinda is idk how to explain

Do u think Jennie Kim could be a cancer rising ?

She has a really cancer vibe to her and she does represent a cancer rising

also you can ignore/delete this !

have a good day !

Hm I thought of her being a Scorpio rising but a cancer rising can be a good guess. If she was a Scorpio rising that would leo is in her tenth house and people view of her to have leo qualities. However if she was a cancer rising that would mean Aries is in her tenth house; however she could still be Lunarian dominant (moon dominant)

[katie-writes24]

Last Chance

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x reader

Warnings: Language, suggestive material, brief religious content ig, angst, fluff, weddings, bad officiant script (if that makes sense), irl it’s kinda wrong but just go with it.

Part 2

I’ll just get straight to the point, Taylor Swift was the cause of this..... That’s it! You’re welcome, enjoy! Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Oh and also, can we appreciate that I finally figured out to put the ‘keep reading’ feature on because I finally set tumblr up on my computer? Yay me, this is a life changer you don’t even know!

As a kid, Y/N would be dragged to church every Sunday, told to represent her supposedly "religious" family. Her mother would force her into a dress, always reminding her to "sit like a lady" since there were always boys present, and you just never know. They would go and learn about the god above, be thankful that they were brought here, cheer his name. 

When she was fourteen, she went into church on a Monday, this time for a funeral. She automatically noticed the change in tone, obviously, but since then she looked at churches a bit different. They weren't praised as much, they held an entire different meaning, one that wasn’t very happy at all. No, she learned that churches could be just as devastating as celebratory. 

Like now, where people gathered in front of the steps, mingling and wearing expensive clothing. There was a truck on the lawn, workers were shoving different table sets across the road, where a large tent was set up. There was a group of people laughing a couple feet away, all looking down at a little girl with a white dress on. A stretch limousine rolled around and a few women climbed out with grace, all wearing the same pale color. 

Truly devastating. 

Y/N tugged at her own dress, hoping that the simple color would at least help her blend in with the crowd. Maria had told her it would be just fine, and it’s not like a new fancy dress was in her budget. 

Besides, it’s not like anyone here cares about her appearance. They’re not here for her. In fact, she hadn’t found one familiar face yet, which should be a good thing, but Y/N couldn’t help but wonder how many of these guests both parties even knew. 

“Would you ever get married?” 

He scoffed, “Marriage isn’t very meaningful is it, why should I have to document my love for you? As long as we both know it right?”

“Okay...I guess you’re right, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a nice tux.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but it didn’t bother him. 

“Is that all you’d want a wedding for? Because I will gladly put on a fancy tux if it meant you’d be down to-”

“Shut up! No, that’s not all. I’d like one, I’d think it’d be nice. It wouldn’t even have to be a big one.” She could see them by the beach, perhaps even getting married at the courthouse and use their money to blow on a big dinner after. She wouldn’t even mind a service in their apartment, it’s roomy. 

“Well, not like I have anyone for a big wedding anyways…”

She sat down next to him and stroked her fingers through his hair. “We’d invite our friends. I could invite my mom, you know she loves you. We don’t need a bunch of people to have a wedding.”

“Good, because I don’t want a giant guest list where there are different number tables and- a full service and a grand ceremony. I just...I just want you.”

She wonders how much of this is total bullshit. 

From where she’s standing, Y/N doesn’t think anyone would approach her. The lake is quite breathtaking, but the crowd is full of anxiousness and people are patiently waiting for the ceremony to start by the front of the church. 

Some people pass her by, and she picks up on certain terms, like how “beautiful the church is” or “she picked out the perfect dress, Philip was crying it was so pretty” and her favorite “just wait till you see this guy, they are just perfect for each other.”

Perfect. 

“I told you I can’t dance.”

“And I was a fool to not believe you. My feet are killing me,” He smirked and then laughed as she hit his shoulder. 

“Fuck off! Why are we doing this again?” She looked up at the sky that cracked before her, grey clouds mushing together.

“Because dancing in the rain is on my bucket list,” He twirled her around, pulling her close when she fumbled out of the turn. 

“Okay, what does that have to do with me? You’re telling me all your years before we met you couldn’t have gone outside and danced?” She grimaced as she felt drops of water against her skin. 

“Maybe I was waiting for the perfect person to do it with?” A hand wrapped around her waist and she chuckled. 

“Perfect? I am far from perfect,” They met each other’s stare and she got butterflies just seeing that look in his eye. 

“Well, then this is perfect,” The rain started to beat against the cement below them. “You and me, here right now, together. It’s perfect.”

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear anybody approach until they called her name. Y/N turned her head a little too fast, scared that she would be caught, there would be a giant scene, and then she would lose her chance at-

At what exactly? She didn’t know either.

“That’s really you, isn’t it?”

Hercules always was so welcoming, she never felt out of place when she was around him. In fact, he actually had a small smile on now, dressed nicely in his, most likely own, tailored suit. 

“Hey, Herc,” Y/N gripped her own arm, unsure if it was appropriate to go in for a hug. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, I made it myself.” He chuckled and opened his arms, allowing her to view his form. He looked just the same as she had seen him almost two years ago. 

“It’s definitely you! Did that business of yours ever hit it off with the investors?” Maybe she was aiming for small talk in hope of a distraction, she wasn’t ready for the obvious to be out in the open just yet. 

“No, but I’m working with something better. Got a lot of new line ups, good people to work with…” Hercules  trailed off with a fond smile on his face. 

“I’m really happy for you, Herc. You deserve it!” 

He smiled, “What about you? What have you been up to?”

Y/N winced and tried not to fidget. “Still working for the same place, I actually got a promotion a couple months ago, so I’ve been busy with that...But everything else has been...things are going well.” 

Hercules nodded, and just like a wave, tension flooded the air around them. 

Y/N refused to look up and meet his eyes, to either see full curiosity, disappointment or any other mood that would just make her feel sick to her stomach, will have her asking the same question over and over to herself. However, the silence couldn’t stay too long. 

“Y/N, what...why are you here?” 

An older woman was yelling at a worker, wanting more champagne for the bride's suite. She was aggressive, and yet the guests around her weren’t baffled at her behavior in the slightest. Y/N hated entitlement, hated more when the rich forgot that other people aren’t as fortunate enough as them. 

Y/N also hated that Hercules was still staring at her while she was wondering if her own mother would be so stressed as to the point of lashing out at others. 

“How long have they been engaged?” She finds herself asking only to quiet her thoughts of if they were stuck in one place and never seemed to want more. 

“Eight months,” Hercules sighed, never being one to push and always being honest. “Eliza’s sweet, she has a good heart. She’s loyal-”

Ouch.

“And she makes him happy.”

“Do you think we were ever… not happy?” Her eyes finally met his, instantly going soft and trying to word his answer carefully, even though Y/N could see a straight answer on his face. 

“I think...you guys worked around each other well. I think you enjoyed each other’s company, and maybe you might have been in love once, but that’s in the past. Right now, over a hundred people are going to celebrate what’s best for him and Eliza…”

He’s not marrying you, he’s not with you. 

It was something unspoken, but Y/N knew that was what Hercules was trying to get at, letting her know that her presence was unwelcome and that this was for the best. 

Why was she here? Why did she think that today would be the day to confess her feelings that never drifted away? Why was she so selfish, and think that her happiness was more important than-

Someone approaches them rather quickly, and it makes her turn and brace for an attack. 

Instead, it’s just John. 

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, you weren’t invited!” He was loud and he was causing a scene, something Y/N definitely did not want. He actually looked like he was about to jump her, but before he could move any closer Hercules puts his arm on John’s chest to block him. 

“Relax, John,” Hercules looked back at her with a pointed look. “Y/N was just leaving.”

There was a pause, and she almost believed that yes, she was leaving. This was her cue, no one wanted her here, she wasn’t supposed to be here. Who is she to ruin a wedding? How could she do something so terrible?

“You should move in,” He ran his hand over her back, listening to her slow breaths. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’d be nice, having you here all the time?” He knew she was drifting off and probably wasn’t even registering what he was saying. He was proven wrong when she raised her head to look at him in the dark light. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt seeing you all day,” Y/N smirked as he nudged her with his leg. She kissed his chest and smiled down at him. “If I move in, there’s no turning back. Rent is too high for me to be switching back and forth.”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else I'd want you to be.”

Y/N gave him a curt nod, walking backwards a bit before fully turning around. She walked all the way pass the church, passed the parking lot, all the way down to the end of the lake. She was out of sight. 

But there was no way she was leaving. There was no way she was going to give up her last chance. 

Even from where she stood, she could hear the beats of the traditional wedding music pick up, cheers from the crowd pick up as everyone hustled inside. 

Her feet moved before she could even make a decision. 

There was an elderly couple just walking into the room, and luckily the man held the door open for her. She thanked him and took the grand venue in. On each bench there was a bouquet of flowers, a white row leading up to the altar. It was packed, and Y/N could only imagine how many people she was about to shock. 

She sat in an empty aisle seat in the back, and finally realized that Eliza was just reaching the top of the stairs, kissing her fathers cheek before he gave her over to him. 

“Should I get a haircut?”

“No. I like it the way it is. You have nice hair, it’s soft and always so full. Why would you want to chop it off?” She caressed said hair. 

“Eh, it’s too long. I think it’s a hassle to work with when I’m getting ready for work. I don’t know…” He looked in the mirror with a pained face. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning her cheek on his back. 

“Well, personally, I like it. But it is your hair. You know I’d love you either way.”

“Are you just being biased?” 

“Mmh, well, I can’t say I don’t like having something to pull on.” She tugged and he whimpered before turning and kissing her, a full grin on his face. 

He looked just like Y/N imagined him. In fact he hasn’t changed, except maybe the circles under his eyes got a bit darker. His hair was neatly wrapped in a ponytail behind his head, sharp tux on, a smile on his face.

Except none of that was for Y/N, it was for another woman. 

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she cleared her throat, tapping her foot nervously as the officiant started speaking. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Alexander and Elizabeth.”

“Stop being such a poor sport.”

“You so cheated! You know what, it’s fine. Because I know what really happened.”

“I’ll tell you what happened: Mr. Hamilton sucks at Mario Kart!”

“You take that back!”

“Through their time together, they have realized that their goals and dreams are more meaningful through a combined effort and mutual support provided in love.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You got promoted, Alex! You’ve come so far since we met. You work so hard, you stay late at work, you stress yourself out far too much for my liking. But you got exactly where you wanted to be! And from here you can only go up! I’m proud of you!”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles and thanking her. 

“As we create this marriage, we create a new bond and a new sense of family.”

“I hope our kids have your eyes.”

“If we’re thinking about children, I have no problem shoving them right back if they don’t look exactly like you.”

“Alex, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying. Your eyes, your nose, I even want them to be as witty as you.”

“I hope they don’t have your sense of style.”

“Hey!”

“Now, before we begin the vows, if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony-”

“You’re acting crazy!”

“No, I’m acting reasonable! You can’t seriously think that you were just going to let this go?”

“Where are we going, Y/N? We’re stuck in this one spot, and I can’t do it anymore!”

“Then don’t!”

“Let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you…” She wiped the tears from her eyes as he held her closely to his chest. “And I’m terrified.”

Y/N stands without letting herself have any more doubts. 

Almost immediately, attention is drawn. There are gasps in the crowd, one woman even let out a horrid yell. The man sitting a couple feet away even scoffs, like Y/N’s idea was ridiculous. It’s enough commotion that causes the bride and groom to look her way. 

Warmth filled her as his brown eyes connected with hers. 

It went in flashes, Alexander’s emotions. First he was a bit confused, almost as to why their loved ones were making such noise. Then, it was anger, finally realizing that it was because someone was objecting to his wedding. And as their eyes connected, it was like he was sad. 

Maybe it was because he hasn’t seen her since she walked out. Maybe it was because she was ruining his special day. Maybe it was because he knew she lost her chance years ago, and that even he knew it was too late. 

Maybe it was because he knew the outcome of this. 

Y/N took a shuddering breath, before saying the three words that could easily crush the hearts of everyone in this room. But she ignored the appalled crowd, she ignored the angry face of John right next to Alex, she didn’t even want to see how broken Eliza must look right now. 

Instead, she focused on the very small quirk of Alexander’s lips, the small chance of hope that was promised. 

[amethyst2900]

I’m gay and i like stars, so i made a fic about it. Read on Ao3

Yasha couldn’t stop looking at the stars. She was freezing, the biting cold slowly clawing at her the longer she stood here and she was sure that if she was here for just a bit longer then her legs would be frozen to the ground. But she honestly didn’t care. Instead, she found herself caring more about the view above her.

 It was beautiful. 

 Above her were thousands upon thousands of stars, some of them were big, sparkling in the sky, shining as they should. Others were smaller, dotting the rest of the sky in white, not quite having the bright shine that the others had. Yasha couldn’t help but find herself smiling at the view. Between all the chaos that had been the last year, Yasha hadn’t found the time to appreciate the sky. Even in Rhosanna, the eternal night always set her off from staring at the sky, it felt too fake. But now, in the middle of the frozen ocean, she couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

 As she stood there, ignoring the puff of air that came with each breath, she heard the slight pounding of boots come up behind him then slowly coming to a stop right next to him. She glanced down for just a moment to see Beau, her hair out of its usual ponytail and instead falling down to frame her face. Yasha could see the faint pink on her cheeks and nose from being out in the cold. Her soft smile turned into a grin as she nodded at Beau before quickly returning her gaze to the sky. 

 “You’re going to freeze if you stay out here too long,” Beau said, and Yasha could hear the slight smile in her voice. 

 “Probably,” Yasha replied. 

 They stood there for a while, the waves gently crashing against the side of the ship, the distant murmurs of the crew talking to each other. All illuminated by the night sky. It was peaceful, so unlike the chaos that is their lives. Even if Yasha felt her face burning as Beau slowly leaned closer to her. For warmth probably. That's what Yasha was telling herself at least. 

 “Do you know anything about constellations?” Beau suddenly said, breaking the peace, instead replacing it by a bloom of warmth that appeared in Yasha’s chest as soon as she opened her mouth. Yasha glanced down at her, cocking her head a bit. 

 “No, not really, we never really had a use for them in my tribe and I never had the chance to learn about them afterward,” 

 Beau nodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looked up at the sky. “Well, uh, do you wanna know about some of them?” She asked, her voice soft and quiet. Yasha just stared at her for a moment, her mouth opened just a bit. The thought of Beau taking time to teach her something made her heartbeat that much faster. 

 “Not that you have too or anything,” Beau said after a few seconds. “It’s probably dumb anyways, I mean, it’s just some stars that old guys named after myths.” 

 “No, no, it’s fine, teach me about them,” Yashsa said quickly, a nervous smile playing on her face. Beau looked back at her, her mouth set in a line before quickly turning into a soft grin that made Yasha’s stomach fill with butterflies. Her gaze quickly returned to the sky while Yasha kept her eyes on Beau. The stars didn’t even compete with how beautiful Beau was under the moonlight. Or in any light, really. 

 “You see those stars that kinda look like a deformed W?” Beau said, reaching out to point at a set of stars to her left. Yasha’s eyes immediately snapped to where Beau was pointing, looking back and forth to see what Beau was trying to show her. It took a few seconds, but she finally found the five stars that did in fact, look like a deformed W.

 “Yeah,” Yasha said with a slight nod, tracing the constellation with her eyes over and over so she wouldn’t lose sight of it.

 “That’s Cassiopeia,” Beau said. “In myth, she was basically a big bitch, she was queen of Ethiopia and claimed that she was more beautiful than these sea nymphs who were fathered by a titan and knew the sea god, and if you knew anything about myth then you should know to not piss off people like that. Anyways, the sea god sent a weird-ass sea monster, named Cetus to take care of the kingdom she ruled over, but her husband,” Beau paused, making Yasha look down at her, wondering if Beau didn’t want to tell the story after all before Beau enthusiastically pointed at the sky again. Yasha couldn’t help but admire the sparkle in her eyes as she spoke. “Cepheus King of Ethiopia, an even bigger bitch and represented by that rat looking constellation,” 

 Yasha once again looked to where Beau was pointing and quickly found the one she was talking about. Though she wouldn't exactly call it rat shaped. “He asked an oracle, who was basically just an old fashioned tarot reader by the way so it was complete bullshit, but he asked him what he could do to save his dear old kingdom, and the oracle said to sacrifice his daughter, Andromeda, to save his kingdom. So, guess what, he fucking did until this hero dude came and killed Cetus and saved Andromeda.” 

 Beau’s arm fell to her side, and she looked back to Yasha with a smile. “And that’s basically it, Andromeda and Cetus have their own constellations too, but I can’t find them.” 

 Yasha didn’t look back at her, instead choosing to stare at Cepheus, with her eyebrows furrowed. “Wouldn’t the nymphs be the bitches though?” She asked. "They were the ones who asked the sea god to send Cetus just because Cassiopeia said something,” 

 Beside her, Beau hummed. Her eyes flicking back to the sky. “Yeah, I guess,” She said with a shrug. “But, Cassiopeia and Cepheus are bitches too, I mean, who the hell would sacrifice their own child for a fucking kingdom?” Beau said, her tone becoming harsher with each word. Yasha immediately turned to look at Beau, finding herself frowning when she saw Beau looking down, her face set in a scarily natural postion. One that came with the practice of hiding emotions. One that Yasha knew all too well. 

 “Hey,” Yasha said, elbowing Beau as gently as she could. So really, it was more of a soft nudge than anything. “If I were to ever have a giant sea creature coming after me because I called myself pretty in front of some nymphs, I would never sacrifice you, even if it meant saving the world.” She said, biting her lip immediately after as she realized what she had just said. Beau looked back at her, with soft eyes that made Yasha’s heart swell in her chest. She could practically feel it against her ribcage at this point.

 “Do you mean that?” 

 “Of course.” 

 For a moment, the world around them stopped and it was only them, looking into each other's eyes, some unspoken emotion surrounding them as they just stared. Yasha could hear Jester’s words in the back of her mind, telling her to just go for it, tell Beau. But she didn’t. Feeling vile anxiety fight against the warmth in her chest. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. 

 “We should uh, go back inside, I think I’m starting to get frostbite,” 

 Beau blinked, a bewildered look crossing her face, then she nodded. 

 “Right uh, yeah, don’t want you to get sick or anything,” Beau said, turning and quickly walking away. Yasha immediately followed, falling into step with her in just a few moments. 

 “Could we do this again?” Yasha asked as they walked slowly inside. Savoring each step they had together. 

 Beau furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

 “You telling me about the stars, it was….really nice.” 

Beau opened her mouth, then closed it with an audible snap before quickly opening it again. 

 “Yeah, I would like that.” 

[hongism]

hi caly boo its ur 🌊 anon! i finally finished the most brilliant darkness and oh my lawd i’m in spain without the s. to put it shortly: U DID NOT DISAPPOINT BESTIE, and it seems unreal that u and ur mind and this fic even exists bc every moment is just polished to perfection, while simultaneously every character is polished to a sort of imperfect perfection(?). i have so many questions and things to say idek where to start, and tho im not good with words and even worse at deciphering hidden meanings, here are just some of my thoughts that i remember from the story.

hello my dear!!! eee im gonna answer separately since i think i’ll be very long-winded as usual but first of all thank you so much :(( this fic is actually very full of subliminal messages and hidden nuances that are weaved throughout which i think could be quite confusing so i apologize for that! if i had managed my time better, i would have adjusted when i started the fic to account for managing those aspects of the fic but alas i’m terrible at time management and i suck so. anyways.

first of all, ngl halfway into the story i lowkey forgot this was a wooyoung fic bc SANNN and also bc wooyoung appeared like 3 times lol. even after it finishing all that, i still had my doubts as to why this is a wooyoung fic, or more like why is san this significant in a wooyoung fic. im still a bit slow on these pls forgive me and im just curious why u made it like that.

i think yeah the most interesting thing about this fic is the emphasis on san over wooyoung. and when looking over it yeah i could have switched san and wooyoung’s characters and called it a day, but wooyoung really in my mind acts as the integral turning point for decisions made in the story. 

the goal with the fic wasn’t really to be hyperfocused on the pairing itself, but rather the emotions and thought processes of each character (aside from wooyoung). wooyoung was kept intentionally mysterious and a bit set apart from the rest of the fic because his role in story was moreso an abstract of hestia, the goddess of the hearth and home. wooyoung’s character appeared in times where y/n was struggling with the thought of home or adjusting to the new changes in her life! wooyoung’s pairing itself was actually intended to be solely platonic at first, but as the story went on i thought having mc develop feelings for him added another turning point in the fic!

moving on, the second biggest question i had is the whole hestia!wooyoung and cafe aurora situation. i did a bit of reading on hestia and only found out that she was the goddess of hearth, which might explain the fireplace and the kind of homey feeling to the cafe. and ‘cafe aurora not really existing to most’ part, which was already hinted at wooyoung randomly disappearing, mc never seeing the cafe before or wooyoung only bringing people he wants into it. i get that him inviting mc must suggest her significance to him, but why was he so adamant about his friends not mentioning him or the cafe to mc before that? wooyoung is quite a mysterious character i think, and given that this fic is supposed to be about him, it’s a bit odd that there’s still so many things left unknown, but its kinda cool that way nonetheless and im guessing u would also like to explain that further outside of the story too.

i think my biggest regret about this fic is the fucking summary.... i wrote that summary well before i even started writing the fic thinking it would go in that direction but it didn’t. and since this fic was for a collab, i left the summary as is because i genuinely cannot for the life of me figure out a better one. but i’m trying to figure out a better one. but i really fucking hate the current summary because it’s not at all what the fic is truly about and i hate it.

however, i don’t hate the fic itself, and the reason why i don’t is because i got to play with both my writing style and how i displayed the story. for this collab we were asked to pick a greek god and one of the seven deadly sins, and i selected hestia and sloth. and initially i had intended to have sloth be represented by the reader’s depression, and wooyoung be a more ‘real’ depiction of hestia. i shifted gears very early on in the fic but what it became is moreso abstract realizations in the characters.

san’s character is meant to be this idea of sloth, and it’s mentioned several times that he doesn’t want to move forward, he wants to go slow, he wants to stop moving so fast through life, and those things point to him being a depiction of sloth

wooyoung’s was harder to encapsulate in a more abstract way but you hit the nail on the head really with the homey feeling of the cafe. beyond that, mc talks about just naturally feeling at ease and comfortable with how things are with wooyoung and being around him, and he takes up this role of being the likeable, warm, cozy, comforting character. it all comes to a head in the last scene where he brings both y/n and san into the cafe.

and again wooyoung’s character is meant to be most mysterious and abstract, but if i had had more time to fully flesh out the fic, i think i would have liked to touch more on him. at the same time however i left it more open-ended and open to interpretation. the significance in him inviting mc in and not being mentioned by the others sooner is twofold. one; the others never really had any reason whatsoever to mention wooyoung. he was a friend outside the circle who never joined in with them when mc was around. i personally in my own friendships don’t mention friends outside the circle by name or anything, just kinda vaguely talking about them unless im certain the people know who this person is. the concept of wooyoung having to invite mc in was more nuanced and vague as well, intentionally so, but that was moreso meant to represent this idea of ‘you can’t make a home somewhere where you aren’t invited’ so y/n couldn’t fully make a home of the place she was in without being invited in and welcomed in, but again that’s something i wish i had more time to fully flesh out.

the hongjoong speech about love (and also the interaction with seonghwa after that) deserves a standing ovation of its own 👏 unfortunately, or not, im not actually going through the emotional turmoil regarding love the same way as hj or mc to be able to fully relate to his words, but the whole ‘if you dont love what u see in the mirror then u dont love it’ mentality really hit me hard, and i’d like to hang onto that when i make decisions in the future haha thank you wise caly! seonghwa and hongjoong’s story is also beautiful, and just like mc said, the more i look at it the more it hurts :’)

the hongjoong speech about love was meant to be something very jaded and specific to his worldview. it actually isn’t wholly how i view love personally, but it was a perfect description to how both he and y/n perceived the love in their own lives. mostly thanks to their own emotional turmoils. the mentality of the mirror quote is something that i think i also struggle with, which is why i included it. it’s hard to do, but even in friendships, i think it’s necessarily to stop and look at the person you were before this relationship and then the person during this relationship. if you don’t love the one you are now, then maybe it’s a sign to reflect and see the bigger picture, so that was a lil reminder to myself and i’m glad it touched you as well!!!

“do you love him, or do you love the idea of being in love with him?” - haha i see what u did there (or maybe i didnt please dont laugh at me if i didnt). its still so good everytime i see it bc i keep finding myself loving just the idea of things time and time again even when this makes total sense to me oof :/

heh yeah again with the more abstract concepts this one was more direct and ‘cliche’ but i fully wanted that cliche in the fic because i thought it suited the situation where mc was constantly struggling with a version of san that she thought she loved vs the version of san she got every time they were together

despite how enlightened she seems to be, mc still made the same choices, and i wanna smack her for it and pat her back at the same time. and maybe also bc of the fact that she feels so differently for the two men that i feel like no ending could really justify her decision, so ending in the vague is probably the best. your ending might kind of allude to someone more than the other already, and tho i still don’t think he’s the best one for her based on just my pov on love, i kinda agree with you. but again, this raises the question of, why a wooyoung fic and not a san fic?

and yeah the whole knife in the chest at the end of it all is that she was still too scared to face the music so to speak. but really i would say she made the same choices up until the conversation on the balcony with san. and you’re absolutely right, the reason i chose the ending the way i did was because either way, there’s no justification. and actually although it might seems like i was alluding to someone specific, san being in the cafe at the very end was moreso to represent that as much as they fought, he still very much loved her and wanted to be loved by her. it was kinda an open casket ending there were no nails in the coffin, the choice between wooyoung and san still stands and an argument could be made for either of them! i think this is a fic that i could see myself revisiting one day with two endings - one for san, and one for wooyoung.

something i didn’t mention earlier about wooyoung’s character being left intentionally mysterious was that he was representing a new and budding love. the honeymoon phase where you’re falling for someone you don’t even really know. you are the reader aren’t meant to really know who wooyoung is because of that beyond what you read about him, so his past and such was left out intentionally to represent that idea of ‘hey wow im in love with a stranger!’ whereas san was this gritty love that’s bad for you. and there are pros and cons to each just as with anything!!

so,,,, why a wooyoung fic and not a san fic? well i picked wooyoung for my collab so he was one of the main focuses of the fic regardless of which direction i took with it. as for why wooyoung wasn’t more forward, i already answered that but !!! i view it as both a wooyoung fic and a san fic. both are highlighted characters with main pairing roles!

i literally just woke up to write this and am going back to sleep ahaha so i apologize if this makes no sense. i somehow felt like i’ve read so much yet so little at the same time, maybe bc there are still so many things i havent fully made sense of, and that’s where i hope you come in and enlighten me. i still stand by my word that this fic deserves so much more recognition despite the lack of explicit smut bc of how much more you’ve explored through character building. love you caly and thank u for working so hard <3 — 🌊

no worries my beloved i hope you go back to sleep and get lots and lots of rest!! and i hope my response helps enlighten the not so clear things as well dgjdklfg but really thank you so much. it was a long fic and hard to get through at times, but as a whole, i’m proud of it and what i created, so thank you for recognizing my efforts and appreciating them 🥺

[galactic-magick]

Not So Different: Virgil x Reader

Request: Can I get uhh new side (Pride?) Who is female and everyone is surprised and it's virgil x reader and lots of him being jealous even tho u aren't together and angst and him being the big spoon and stuff ty mwah (sorry if this is badly written I'm going on 1 hours of sleep in the past 2 days hahaha okay - @hhh-angels​

Summary: You are Thomas’s prideful side, and you immediately bond with Roman for obvious reasons. Virgil doesn’t like that very much…

Words: 1400+

Warnings: angst, jealousy

Author’s Notes: I hope you like this! There’s a few time-skips cuz I wanted it to be kinda slow-burn and build up the angst lol. (Also I’d just like to say there is no Roman hate here! He’s kinda viewed as the bad guy in this but I promise I love him plz don’t come after me)

-

-

-

“Hi!” you pop up next to Roman, waving to Thomas. Everyone jumps, but you’re so happy to actually be here that you don’t mind their intense reaction. Deceit’s done a great job at hiding you for years, and you’re finally getting to reveal your existence.

You represent Thomas’s pride. You’re not really either a light or dark side, since pride can be used in so many different ways. Pride can be used for good, such as when Thomas is confident in his achievements, ideas, and sexuality. But if it gets too strong, it can become an issue. Excessive pride can lead to being self-absorbed, insensitive, and arrogant, and unfortunately that may be the reason you’re here.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thomas asks.

“I’m your pride!” you grin. “But you can just call be Y/N,”

Roman looks you up and down, “But, why are you-?”

“A girl? I just felt like presenting myself this way. Do you need me to change?”

“No, no, of course not! We can sing Disney duets together!” You and Roman immediately start singing “A Whole New World.”

Virgil rolls his eyes.

Thomas stares in disbelief, “I’m still confused, why are you here? Where did you come from?”

“You tell me, Thomas,” you laugh, continuing to sing with Roman.

“Did you guys know about her?”

“Not particularly, no,” Logan and the other sides shake their heads.

“Virgil? Is she another dark side?”

“Not exactly,” he sighs. “But I- I should’ve been able to stop her,”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why, Virgil?” your singing stops and you meet his gaze.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to balance out Thomas’s ego with self-consciousness and insecurity,”

“Who needs that,” Roman scoffs.

“Actually, he does need it,” Logan corrects, pulling up a chart. “Think of it as a modified Yerkes-Dodson curve. With anxiety, one side of the extreme is complete carelessness, and the other is full-on panic. With pride, one side would be self-loathing, and the other would be narcissism. Ideally, everyone should be in the middle, having confidence in yourself but not so much that you become ignorant or put others down,”

“Is she here because…I’m on the second side?”

“Oh no…” Patton mumbles.

“Nonsense! I see nothing wrong with Y/N being here,” Roman objects, draping an arm around your shoulders. Virgil cringes a bit.

“Technically, Roman is correct,” Logan admits hesitantly. “As long as you don’t listen to her excessively, nothing detrimental will come of her presence,”

“Okay…” Thomas exhales.

“Her getting too close to Roman is what you really need to worry about,” Virgil grumbles.

“Hey! I thought you guys were past this?”

“Maybe not,”

“Well fine, Virgil, we’ll go if you have such a big problem with us,” Roman sneers, taking your hand and sinking down.

 -

 Over the next few weeks, you and Roman have become best friends. You’ve written approximately 15 musicals together now, sung every single Disney song multiple times, and have brainstormed millions of ideas on how to help Thomas achieve his dreams in the most extravagant way possible.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this obnoxious behavior,” Logan closes his book and slams it on the table. You and Roman are very loudly reenacting Hamilton in his room at the moment, and the noise is filling the entire mind palace.

“They’re just having fun, Logan!” Patton shrugs, playing some Go Fish with Virgil.

“Come on, Patton, you know Roman’s just going to corrupt her,” Virgil groans.

“Now, Virgil, I may have had my doubts before but there’s no need to be mean,”

“I’ve had it,” Logan stands up and stomps over to Roman’s door. “CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME PEACE AND QUIET FOR THIRTY MINUTES?!”

With that, no one so much as breathes loudly for the rest of the day.

 -

 It’s probably way past midnight now, but you still can’t sleep. You head to the kitchen to grab a snack, jumping when you see Virgil there as well.

“What are you doing here?” you shriek.

“I could ask you the same thing,”

“I suppose so,” you grin, hoisting yourself up to sit on the counter. “I guess I wouldn’t mind the company,”

“I usually come down here to be alone,”

“Look, I know you hate me, but you could just kindly ask me to leave,”

“I don’t hate you,”

“You don’t?”

“No!” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Are you really so self-absorbed that you think if people aren’t all over you they hate you?”

“Excuse me?” you shoot back. “I’m pretty sure you directly said you didn’t want me around!”

“I did not say that. I said you need to be under control, and teaming up with Roman is not going to help that,”

“What’s wrong with Roman?”

“Can’t you see he’s using you? He only likes you because you’re so similar and you can sing princess songs with him!”

“And how is that bad, exactly?” you retaliate. “He’s the only one who’s been nice to me since I got here, so sorry if my choice in friends isn’t to your standards,”

“It’s just-“

“You know what, Virgil? I really thought we would get along. We both have the capacity for good and evil, and we both help to balance Thomas out. We have a lot more in common than you think,” you slide off the counter and walk out.

 -

 You and Virgil don’t speak for a while after that. Not that you talked a lot before, but that fight really solidified things. You can’t even make eye contact with each other, it’s like you’re not even there.

Roman keeps asking you what’s wrong, but you just shrug him off. How are you supposed to tell him that he’s part of the problem? That maybe if you weren’t so close, Virgil would consider talking to you?

You never meant any harm when you revealed yourself. You really thought you’d be able to get along with all the sides, but it seems that Roman’s the only one who celebrates who you are. Logan barely tolerates you, and that’s only when you’re not being obnoxious with Roman. Patton’s alright with you, but he gets a little jittery if you suggest anything that compromises his morals. And then there’s Virgil, and you know how that’s going.

You don’t really feel like you have to apologize, it’s not in your nature anyway, but you’re sick of having to avoid him all the time now. You need to talk to him again whether he likes it or not.

You swing open the door to his room without knocking and sit on the bed, “Hi,”

“Is privacy just something you don’t understand?”

“It appears so,” you laugh. “Look Virgil, I know you’re mad at me, and honestly I’m mad at you too, but I don’t want to be anymore,” You take a deep breath, “I like you. I wish we had a better start, but I’m willing to start over,”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” you scoot closer to him. “And I told Roman to leave us alone for the rest of the day, so don’t worry about him,”

“You didn’t have to do that,”

“I know I didn’t. But I did. So do you want to hang out or not?”

“I guess so-“ before he can finish, you grab his hand and drag him out of his room to the main area of the mind palace.

“You pick a movie, I’m gonna go steal some of Patton’s cookies,” Virgil watches you, stunned, before flopping on the couch and scrolling through the selection. He starts one as you sit down next to him, handing him some cookies.

“Just want to make sure, you actually want to hang out with me?”

“Yes, Virgil. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have asked,” you drape a blanket over the two of you and settle in.

As the movie goes on, you subconsciously rest your head on his shoulder. He stiffens immediately and you jerk back up.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-“

“N-no, it’s fine,” he releases his breath. “I’m just…not used to people doing that,”

By the time the movie’s over, you’re fully asleep and Virgil freezes again, unsure what to do. Should he carry you to your room? Leave you here to sleep? Wake you up?

He slowly wraps his arms around your waist and lies down with you, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Despite his efforts, you squirm a bit in your sleep, but thankfully you don’t open your eyes. He fits his chin in the crook of your neck and dozes off himself.

He knows you didn’t have to give him a second chance, but you did. You were right, you weren’t so different after all, and he’ll always be thankful for the opportunity to be something more to you.

[wildroseofarran]

Into the Umbra || Pete, MJ, Guildias, Abel, & Rosmond || March, 2020

MJ/Guildias: Midas would be good from this night forth, with designated things to knock down to make his point. Abel in his rat terrier form, sitting menacingly on MJ's shoulder while they conversed, paying no mind to him whatsoever, like a looming promise, seemed to do the trick. Staying the night at Peter's felt surreal, and in a sense, wrong. Their relationship wasn't as clean of a slate as he would have liked, but he couldn't deny himself a glance through rose-tinted lenses at what had been.

He would have insisted on a room of his own with Abel, distancing himself enough not to feel completely guilty come the next night, when Guildias knocked on Peter's door. Together, they excused themselves for a quick trip to Gertrude Draegan, establishing his presence and, against Peter's judgement, explained his intended rescue operation. The two returned an hour later, pulling up in front of Peter's house in a black Lincoln Navigator. James Rosmond, dressed in a black felt jacket, remained behind the wheel.

Pete: Even had MJ not insisted, Pete still would've set him up in the guest room. They were starting fresh and that meant a romantic relationship between the two of them didn't currently exist. As such, the guest room was the only option.

He'd looked on in amusement as MJ gave Midas a talking to with Abel's silent but very present assistance, pleased that it seemed to have worked.

The next day when Midas wanted attention, he only knocked over what he was allowed to and was rewarded handsomely with treats and affection.

Pete was in the middle of doling out said affection when the SUV pulled up.

"Looks like a goddamn mafia lieutenant," he muttered to himself, turning away from the window so his glare wouldn't be seen.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: MJ and Guildias came to the door as one. No Callum in sight. The SUV remained warm and rumbling. Rosmond's first field operation since the Embrace. Waylon Dahlberg and Leslie Issott a few taps on his antiquated cellphone, should the expertise of a witch be required.

There he would wait, as Peter and the familiar named Abel were gathered for their expedition.

"Gertrude insisted," MJ explained. "Said it would be good for him. Probably t'keep an eye on us."

Guildias leaned against the doorway. "We represent Edenton, whether we like it or lump it. If something catastrophic were to happen, Raleigh mustn't be privy to the embarrassment."

Pete/Abel: Pete opened the door with a frown that was matched by Abel's as he appeared behind him.

"Dude, come on," said Abel, his tone heartily disapproving. "I thought we agreed you were gonna go in, observe the niceties, and get out. Why'd you go and tell her? She's not the boss of the Umbra!"

A sentiment Pete echoed. "The only catastrophe will be if we fail to get that kid, I couldn't care less about Gertrude's potential embarrassment. Like Raleigh gives one single shit about a human child, they probably didn't even notice."

MJ: "Since when did the two of ya start parroting each other? This be a sewin' circle while we were out?"

Abel: "He fed me chicken and rice casserole," said Abel. "We bonded. But still! Now some goon is gonna watch us the whole time and learn shit about us. It's like taking a cop on a heist."

Guildias: "More akin to taking a bodyguard and former assassin," said Guildias. "Trust me, Mr. Harrington, the man has no personality to speak of."

Abel: Abel peeked around Guildias at the SUV and turned to Pete. “You’re right, it does look like a mafia lieutenant car.” The windows were so dark he couldn’t even see the goon.

“All right, so. Is Mr. No Personality coming in or what?”

MJ/Guildias: MJ just snickered. "If it weren't for ya breakin' physics we'd have a Scooby-doo van. Ya know, for work."

"We have hours of drive ahead of us and little night. Rosmond encourages you to bring water," Guildias smirked at Peter.

Pete/Abel: “If we did have a Scooby-doo van, it would have to break physics, too, so we wouldn't have to drive around for hours. Does the mafia lieutenant really want to drive?”

Pete just sighed and went to the kitchen to fill up a water bottle.

MJ/Guildias: "Expect the unexpected." And a lack of trust for a familiar's magic from both Setite and Giovanni. Being backed by a Ravnos did little for confidence; less post-merge.

"Stopped by the RV for some shit. Should have everything," said MJ. "Let's go, Abe. Come meet the mafia."

Abel: "You said yourself we only have a little bit of night to do this and he wants to spend a chunk of it driving." Abel shook his head and grabbed his jacket. "This is why you don't bring a cop." He heaved a great sigh. "All right, let's go meet the mafia."

MJ/Guildias: "We got gear. Got shit if the kid needs moved. Can't just show up at a place ya ain't even seen. Can ya even move five people n'gear t'some place ya ain't even been, dude?" Asked while tugging him by the shirt. No standing and talking. Movement.

Guildias waited quietly for Peter.

Pete/Abel: "I can move four people and gear thanks to the booster spell and talismans I got from X and Ramsay. You know, like we planned. The news reported on it, pictures of the house and the kid are everywhere and the address wasn't hard to find. How do you think I grabbed your ass from that scary place with the giant glass tank? Magic, my guy."

Pete returned a few moments later wearing a jacket and carrying a small pack. "What are my chances of not having to ride with the prince's goon and just following behind in my own car?"

MJ/Guildias: "Magic - ya read my mind! Kinda different from pictures on a screen." Or in Rosmond's case, a printed map to a craftsman foursquare a few miles outside of Raleigh. The route was simple enough and already memorized.

MJ pulled from his inner jacket pocket a long enticing stick of LaffyTaffy. A peace offering handed over without word.

"Let's not over-complicate matters," said Guildias. "Has he outwardly wronged you?"

Pete/Abel: Abel opened his mouth, fully prepared to say more, but the appearance of the candy had it closing again. He accepted it with a smile. "Okay, I love you again. Let's meet Mr. Wet Blanket. Does he actually have no personality or was Guildias exaggerating?"

"Matters are already complicated," said Pete. "We're dipping into the Veil. I'd just rather not have Gertrude's ears and eyes adding to the tension. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done and we have shit to do."

MJ/Guildias: "Ya tell me," MJ smirked, opening one of the doors for Abel. Black interior and spacious, which was the point. Easy to label safety measures as cliche, but there they were.

"That still doesn't answer my question. Seems to be the one area you and Callum disagree."

Pete/Abel: Abel poked his head into the car and looked around. 'Woowwwww,' he thought to MJ. 'It's very la cosa nostra in here.' Out loud, he greeted the driver. "Hey, man."

"You of all people should know why I don't think fondly of the prince. Isn't that reason enough to not want him to be part of this?" He was almost certain telling Gertrude had been Guildias' idea, or maybe even his doing. "Let's just go."

Pete locked the door behind him and walked to the car, hearing his mentor's voice in his head telling him to take things in stride.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: Abel was gently shoved forward. He wasn't going to bother reminding him to mind his manners.

A youngish-looking man, blond, eyes like dying grass, observed from the rear-view mirror. Chiseled from some other era. Stoic as a garden statue.

"Mr. Harrington," he greeted. Something in those two words was not quite North Carolina. Something more melodic and silky than one might expect from that face.

"For the man he once was," said Guildias, waiting to fall into step with the Fera. The door was opened for Peter, and it was Guildias climbing into the backseat. A choice made so MJ didn't have to. Rosmond watched expectedly as MJ took his place in the front passenger seat.

"I'll be y'all's DJ for the next hour(sss). We start our adventure with some Reba."

Pete/Abel: Having spent so long in the company of an alias-loving demon, it was more than a little unsettling to be called by his actual name, especially by someone that looked so...stony. Abel wasn't entirely sure he liked it. "Yep, that's me. You don't have to call me mister. And your name...?"

"Rosmond," said Pete, settling in between Abel and Guildias. "His name is Rosmond."

MJ/Guildias: The drive would have been quiet if not for MJ's music. Their driver offered nothing by means of conversation. Neither did Guildias, content with tilting back in his seat and adjusting large gold and brown hexagonal Ray-Bans.

MJ took initiative to sing. Juggling lemons which disappeared randomly, forced back with a bit of concentration. Minutes before arrival, Abel was finally given attention by the Setite.

"Is he always like this?"

Pete/Abel: While Pete didn't normally go for country, MJ's singing provided both distraction and entertainment. The ride was giving him way too much time to think.

Abel shook his head. "Nope. Sometimes he juggles oranges."

MJ/Guildias: "An improvement, then. It's time you upgrade to grapefruit."

"Ha. Easy." But what materialized in his hands looked too yellow. One looked more like Jupiter with various rings of decay. Not quite. He stared for some time, trying to find the appropriate color of a citrus he'd forgotten.

Abel: Abel leaned forward in his seat for a better view.

"Too yellow. Go for a slightly bigger orange that's a yellowy orange color."

MJ/Rosmond: Bigger than this? Roughly the size of both fists, then, and now a rotten lemon in shade.

"Too brown," said Rosmond.

Abel: "Slightly smaller. Think softball or....yeah no, just think softball."

MJ/Guildias: Guildias pulled his phone from pocket. Many years out of date. Complete with keyboard. He leaned forward and presented a stock photo.

"Huh," MJ sighed, trying one more time with Abel's advice and Guildias' image.

The texture wasn't quite there, but an improvement.

Abel: "Ah, you got it! Well done, well done. We're gonna have you juggling citrus of all persuasions before you know it."

To Guildias he said, "I thought your people hated tech?"

Guildias: "We're not part of the ivory tower; but it comes with its own set of rules."

Abel: The hell was the ivory tower? Something to ask MJ later on.

"Gotta live the burner phone life, man."

Guildias/Rosmond: "What makes you think I'm not?"

Rosmond had nothing to add. With the same silence, he drove the SUV quietly onto a dirt road and into a snug patch of forest. The engine was killed, keys stuffed in his pocket.

"Mr. Harrington, I would appreciate your assistance." A brief look back to Guildias. Both men climbed out of the vehicle.

Abel: "That phone you have has internet access. I'm talking the circa-2004-Nokia-phone-that-only-has-Snake-on-it burner phone life."

He peered out the windows at their destination, metaphorical antenna up for anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm all ears, but really, please call me Abel."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: The driver's side door was shutting. Guildias gestured for Abel to follow him. Meanwhile, MJ climbed into the back with Peter.

"Stake out shit," he sighed. Normally his forte in the duo, and normally Xavier's forte in the trio. For now, grapefruit had been replaced by pink and blue golf balls, rolled in a single hand.

"You won't be getting a first name from our acquaintance, my friend," Guildias whispered. "That is not a hill to die on."

"Cameras and other security systems need to first be addressed. By any means." Rosmond looked expectedly to the snake, already stepping deeper into the woods where Rosmond pointed. To the house hidden behind a near quarter mile of bracken and sagging branches.

Pete/Abel: Pete nodded, peering out the window as Abel had. "Kinda wanna roll the window down and see if I can smell anything else that might be out there. It occurred to me about fifty miles ago that we might not be the only ones with an interest in this."

Abel looked from Guildias to the man called Rosmond. Did the guy ever crack a smile? Or a joke? Or blink? "I'm annoyingly persistent," he whispered back. "But I'll take your word for it."

He was itching to turn into his animal form but that wasn't wise for two reasons: one, he felt uncomfortable doing so without MJ around. Two, he wouldn't be able to communicate with them.

"There's a few spells for that. Glamours that could hide us while we do what we need to do without being seen."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "What, like fae? Ain't that their thing, stealin' children n'shit?" MJ reached over Peter's lap for the door, opening it a crack. He wanted to take his rebirth behind the masquerade seriously.

Rosmond followed behind by a few feet. "Observation," he reminded. "Mr. Calloway and Graham will utilize your information."

"Still the bodyguard?" Guildias looked over his shoulder, smirk in his eyes.

"Supervision." With Gertrude's insistence. Field work with new capacity. A test of responsibility he would not take lightly.

The same craftsman foursquare from the printed page. New paint job. Manicured lawn. A plastic colorful play set in the backyard. A silver truck and red sedan in the front yard. Porch light on. Lights off save for the second floor in two rooms.

Pete/Abel: "Some of them, yeah. Could be anyone though, including some weirdo human." It was never a good idea to underestimate the weirdos.

Pete scooted close enough to the door to where he could stick his nose out and scented the air.

Well, Abel thought, these two seemed fairly uninterested in magic. Which begged the question of why Rosmond had asked for his assistance.

He looked at the house with a frown. It looked so normal. Nothing about it gave away what had happened inside.

"Poor souls," he sighed to himself.

MJ/Guildias: "You were called 'pup' last night. We'll need that right now, if you're willing to oblige," said Guildias, softly for the semblance of privacy.

Meanwhile, MJ watched Peter with fascination. "What can ya smell?"

Pete/Abel: Abel turned to Guildias, ignoring the knot in his gut. Although whether it was more to do with the impending journey into the Umbra or the thought of transforming without MJ, he couldn't say for sure. "I am--" sort of, "--but I won't be able to communicate with you. Unless you practice telepathy?"

Pete inhaled deeply. "You. Soil. Some sort of body of water nearby. Vampire."

MJ/Guildias: "We'll be right here. You see what you see and come back to us. Door cams, police surveillance. Do not put yourself in unnecessary danger. I'll be right behind you."

MJ smiled privately. "That all? Lions, tigers, bears, oh my?"

Pete/Abel: "I'm not putting myself in any danger at all," Abel said with a grin, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little silver pendant. It was small, about the size of a nickel, and inscribed with what appeared to be several runic symbols.

Abel clipped it on the necklace he was already wearing so it rested beside his 'A' pendant.

"Okay, so this is gonna hide me from view and muffle any sounds I make, but you should still be able to hear my footsteps if you listen close."

Pete chuckled. "None of them around, only us. Good sign I guess."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "A little more elaborate than a stray dog wandering about," said Guildias. "If the task is completed, then by all means."

Rosmond remained nearby a tree, hands to his sides, observing like the statue Abel imagined him as.

Guildias took a step forward, disappearing behind a tree and then altogether.

"The more borin' the better," MJ nodded. "Ain't supposed t'be a heist."

Pete/Abel: "People tend to approach small dogs, to either pet them or to try and help them. Sometimes I'll get a treat out of the deal but we've gotta be stealthier today." Abel took one more second to make sure the necklace was secure before chanting a small incantation.

He hadn't quite finished when he slowly started to fade from view, his voice growing fainter and fainter as if he were moving far away. A moment later he was gone completely, and only once he was hidden did he feel safe enough to transform.

'I'm in dog form,' he thought to MJ, chain and pendants jingling as he shook himself off. 'Also invisible. Just wanted to give you the head's up.'

Pete nodded as well. "Yeah. Sure feels like one though. Still can't quite believe we're gonna do what we're about to do. It's like my brain can't process it."

MJ/Guildias: Guildias remained on the outskirts, watchful of sinking grass under invisible feet that would be Abel. Watchful for a police car, something. After a bout of silence, he pulled from his coat various colored loupes, bringing each to his eye as he searched for an outward sign of entry. Some indication of where to begin.

MJ sat up straight, looking off to nowhere as though suddenly lost in thought. And then like that, it was over.

"This is sorta been my thing for a while now. Not rescuin' kids, but I mean, the weird shit it comes with."

Pete/Abel: The movement in the sinking grass would indicate a methodical survey around the house. Abel slowly circled it, alternating between sniffing around and watching and listening for any movement or sign that something was amiss. Aside from the obvious, of course.

Since he couldn't speak to Guildias, he thought his observations at MJ. 'Everything's pretty quiet. I smell new paint but I can still smell two kids. One scent is stronger than the other. There's another scent too, can't identify it just yet.' A few beats of silence. 'It's so frustratingly normal.'

"You're sounding more like Robin Hood by the second. Does your demon friend help too?" Pete looked over at MJ. "You okay?"

MJ/Guildias: Every image given to MJ was filed away. This would be vital later. One thing to look out for. That new trend.

'Check the door for one of them cams. I don't think they'll have anything else.'

After a wide circle of the entire property, Guildias returned to Rosmond's side. Reappeared as easily as a blink, and waited for the familiar.

"Yeah," MJ smiled. "N'yeah, m'good. We can start headin' over."

Pete/Abel: 'Copy that.'

Abel looped around again to check out the back door. That's where people tended to have cameras and other security measures, since it couldn't be seen from the street. Of course, humans didn't realize the real threats didn't need cover to attack.

'I see it. Small camera pointed at the back door. Simple, the kind an alarm company would offer to their customers. Fixed position, probably connects to their Wi-Fi network.'

Pete took a deep breath. "All right, let's do this, Robin Hood."

MJ: 'To zap the power lines or do my cloak shit.' To fuck the power lines would bring someone out and shorten their window further. 'Keep sendin' me a view. Check the front door, too. We're headin' that way.'

MJ looked back for Peter, a look on his face as though surprised to see him. Telepathy was disorienting.

"What's your plan?"

Pete/Abel: 'Cutting power attracts attention and utility people. I think cloaking is the way to go.'

Back again to the front of the house. A few of the windows had stickers with a company logo on them; probably the same company that had supplied the camera.

Moving as silently as he could, Abel climbed the front steps and inspected the porch. 'They have a doorbell camera too. Movement usually triggers the censor on those.'

Pete sighed as he zipped up his jacket and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "Honestly? I don't fuckin' know, man. Abel's got this spell to turn me into a beacon or a lighthouse so this kid can find me but what if it doesn't work?"

MJ: "He's got a what now?" MJ laughed. "I'll bet ya real money that light freaks out the snake."

Which reminded him, speaking with Abel, to find a path with the least amount of trees.

'We'll focus on the backyard. I need the cam's perspective real quick and I got it.'

Pete/Abel: "I only understood about half his explanation but basically it's going to make it easier for us to find the kid in the Umbra so we're not there longer than we absolutely have to be. Time's already fucky over there."

'Good call. Tread lightly,' Abel added before rejoining the two vampires. A quick incantation to reverse the spell and he slowly blinked back into existence, once again in human form.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "I wouldn't know." They came upon two figures. Guildias handing over the various colored loupes to Rosmond. Green glass was brought to his eye.

"Ya get the cam's perspective?" whispered to Abel, not the least bit surprised by his sudden appearance.

Rosmond looked back for Peter. He offered the glass by its brass handle. Pointed towards the furthest wall of the back of the house. A small opening like smears on the glass broken by some nonexistent void light. The glass of course was spotless.

"That is where you will breach."

Pete/Abel: ‘It’s pointed at the back door,’ Abel thought to him. ‘At most it’s getting a tiny bit of the backyard and the back porch. It’s not super sophisticated.’

Pete accepted the glass and held it to his eye.

So that was what a portal into the Veil looked like. It was nothing like he would’ve expected. Didn’t even look sinister.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: The telepathy put another smile on his face. "Ros ain't so fast t'kill us all." Two different expressions turned their attention upon the pair. One of bored neutrality, the other a smirk.

"Which of you can lure the occupants inoffensively?" asked Rosmond.

"I got that," said MJ. "Goin' in." Rosmond waited several steps before following behind. Watched as the trickster honed in on the small white device near the ceiling of the small back porch. His hands came together. Middle fingers wrapped over index fingers and touched. A halved orb, no bigger than a snow globe, attached itself to the camera.

'Actually, I ain't got that. Busy here. Can ya bark?'

Pete/Abel: "Hey!" Abel gave MJ a smack on the arm. "Be an agent of chaos after we finish our mission," he whisper yelled, though there was amusement in his eyes.

Pete studied the portal a moment longer and handed the glass back. He felt like starting at it too long would make him lose his nerve or fry his brain or something. Everything about this felt completely out of his depth.

Abel, who had made his way over to stand by Pete, suddenly seemed to lose himself in thought.

'Do you just want me to bark or should I make myself known and distract them?'

MJ: 'Nothin' human. We need sweet lost animal.'

Abel: 'Invisible innocent barking, gotcha.'

"Be back in a sec," Abel announced out loud before activating his spell again and transforming back into a dog.

He wanted to stay close enough to the house to be heard while also not drawing attention toward any of them, so he moved a few feet away in the opposite direction of everything before letting out the most pitiful little bark anyone ever did hear.

MJ/Rosmond: A sound which worked almost instantly to stir the house. Another bark and the porch light switched on. MJ knelt in place, focused on the camera as Rosmond waited around the corner. A woman with deep warm skin and tired eyes first looked out the window before opening the back door. She clicked her tongue.

Abel: Gotcha, Abel thought to himself.

He changed locations to give the illusion that he was wandering around lost and barked again, even adding a whine for good measure and shaking himself so his pendants would jingle.

He sort of felt like the pied piper but not sinister.

MJ/Rosmond: It was enough for her to descend the steps. She turned her head this way and that in search of what sounded like a little dog, to be greeted instead by a blond figure twice her size, hand clasped firmly over her mouth.

"You didn't see my face. You're exhausted. You deserve to sleep. Dream of your son."

Her expression softened, and Rosmond removed his hand. Her arms fell to her sides, and she turned, walking slowly back inside with the vampire at her heels.

MJ, caught up in what he'd just witnessed, damn near dropped his glamour.

Abel: It caught Abel by surprise as well. He very nearly barked for real and ran toward the woman and whatever the hell Rosmond was doing to her until she calmly walked back inside.

'What the fuck was that!?' he thought to MJ. 'Did you know he was going to do that?'

MJ/Guildias: 'Knew he was gonna do somethin'. Didn't know it was fuckin' that.' How the fuck did he do that? It felt familiar. Something he knew, or seen, or experienced. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

One by one, the upstairs bedrooms darkened.

Guildias took to the porch, patting MJ's shoulder along the way.

"It's your time to shine, Peter."

Pete/Abel: 'Well shit, that's an important detail to keep to himself. Is he always this bad at communicating?' Abel returned to where Pete was, making himself human and visible again.

"Oh no it's not," he said, reaching back into his pockets and pulling out even more pendants. Some were round, some polygonal, but all were made of perfectly clear crystal. The ones that were on short strings were placed on Pete's wrist and the one on the longer string was put around his neck. "Can't go walking in there without activating you first."

MJ/Guildias: 'He's the boss right now. Ain't gotta tell us shit.' It was still jarring, watching a mere ghoul rank before his very eyes. Someone he'd been forced to steal from Guildias' basement years ago under Victoria Harrak's orders, now working in tandem. Felt less real than what they were about to do.

"Activating him?" asked Guildias.

Pete/Abel: 'Says who? We're all bringing something to the table. He's being withholding, plain and simple.' It was just the sort of behavior he expected from someone with the demeanor of a statue.

Abel focused back on the task at hand, nodding at Guildias' question. "Yep. Sending him into the Umbra blind is a suicide mission, so I found something to help." The origin of which he would keep to himself. Wouldn't do to go revealing privileged information willy-nilly.

"These crystals are gonna turn our Petey boy into a lighthouse so he can find the little boy, or so the little boy can find him. Petey, did you bring your flashlight like I told you?"

Pete nodded.

"And a weapon?"

"I have a pocketknife?"

"That'll do. Extra sweater?"

Another nod.

"Snack?"

Yet another nod.

"Good man."

Guildias: Guildias took Peter's wrist in three fingers, gently, to examine the crystals. Sunglasses resting on his head, hair now in a bun.

"If the Umbra will have me, I intend to go with him," he said. "Whatever you face will not be alone."

Pete: The crystals, though beautiful, looked completely innocuous. Indeed, it was hard to tell how something so unremarkable could serve as anything but an adornment.

But then that was the beauty of magic.

That caught Pete by surprise. "You want to come with me?"

Guildias: "Did you think you were walking into the unknown alone? That I or anyone here would allow that?"

Pete/Abel: Rosmond would certainly allow it, Pete thought.

"I mean, I assumed Abel might join me."

"Which I will," said Abel.

Guildias: "That will leave what remains to guard in our absence. Shall we?" Guildias opened his hand towards the still open door.

Abel: "Not so fast there. If the Umbra does let you in, you'll need this."

Abel reached into another pocket for yet another pendant, or rather three. These were again shaped like coins and each was on a silver chain. He put one on and offered the other two to Pete and Guildias respectively.

"From what I understand, it's very easy to get lost in there. These will help us find each other if we get separated. They feel warm when we're together and colder the farther away we get from each other. Magical buddy system."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "And you just happened to have three." Guildias smiled.

Rosmond filled the doorway, looked between the three and their shared necklaces. That answered his intended question.

"This way." To the laundry room just behind the kitchen.

"Don't y'all come back armless n'shit," called MJ in whisper, watching Peter for as long as he was able.

The small room was unassuming, plain white, and saturated in the scent of fabric softener. Two cat dishes sat atop of the dryer, already opened by Rosmond.

"It's the wall itself," he explained. "Spills outside." The green loupe was offered to Peter. "Keep it with you to find your way back."

Pete/Abel: "I have five actually!" Abel produced another two from his pocket. "One for MJ if he wanted to come and one for the kid so we don't lose him once we manage to get him."

Pete made to follow Rosmond, but not before shooting MJ a smile. "I'll do my best," he whispered back, finally following Rosmond to the laundry room.

God, it looked so normal. Unsettlingly so. Why of all places had a portal opened here?

He accepted the glass. "Thanks. Guess there's nothing left but to do it."

Guildias/Rosmond: "Manage your breathing. Keep calm. Do not separate." Words of advice Gertrude had given to pass along, and while sound, still seemed hollow coming from inexperienced lips. This would not always be the case, but Rosmond's experience would not begin tonight.

There was no sense in asking which would be the first to enter. The choice was only one to Guildias' knowledge. Quietly, he took a knee near the wall, looking up expectantly to Peter.

Pete/Abel: "Just focus on the necklace, Petey," said Abel. "Warm is good, warm is safe."

Pete nodded and tucked the buddy system pendant into his shirt. "Warm is safe. Okay."

Manage his breathing and stay calm. Pretty much what his mentor had told him over and over when he was struggling. He tried to hear Gaetan's voice now, tried to feel as centered as he had in Gaetan's presence.

Like stepping into the river, he told himself, taking a few deep breaths. This was just stepping into cool rushing water.

He entered the portal.

Guildias: A stench like primordial soup thick enough to taste. A heavy, cold, gel-like substance clung to Peter's entire being. Underneath his clothes and against his scalp. In his teeth, wet on his tongue, and seeped between fingers, toes, and thighs. The sensation threatened his nostrils and stung at his eyes.

Behind, someone grabbed his foot. Their only line into the Penumbra. That place where walking serpents were not welcome, and those covered in the dust of demonic ash were shunned.

Guildias held useless breath. Pupils slit in the limited light, finding their scenery drastically changed. They were outside. Outside somewhere else, but not. The same number of trees. The same three trees in a near perfect triangle. These trees were larger, older. Almost touched. The plastic playground, once colorful and clean, now covered in moss and mounds of dirt. Aged many years. Half swallowed by the earth.

Guildias got to his feet, reached for Peter and felt for Abel.

The ground was soft. Grass rich and healthy. The world saturated in color, though still blanketed in the same darkness of night.

"Come here," Guildias whispered to Peter, removing his scarf from around his neck.

Pete/Abel: What had he been expecting the Veil to be? Pete couldn't even begin to imagine.

But he did know that whatever slimy reek was covering him head to toe was most certainly not water and boy, did he want to fucking panic.

Would panicking help? No. Did it ever? No. So what was he to do?

Suck it up and pretend it was water. This first and hopefully only foray into the in-between was not about comfort.

Abel felt similarly. This place stunk like nothing had ever stunk before and every single cell that made up his being was absolutely screaming with protest at being here. God, he really hoped the Umbra didn't bounce them out. Could it even do that? Probably.

It was certainly unsettling being here, with everything looking the same but not. Felt like an episode of the Twilight Zone.

"Buddy system," he said, whispering as well. He grasped Guildias' searching hand and reached out for Pete's.

Meanwhile, Pete was moving closer to Guildias.

Guildias: Abel's hand was stuffed in the vampire's jacket. He then proceeded to wrap his black scarf around Peter's neck, careful around his mouth and nose to aid his breathing. Not a concern of his, and Peter was better use to them conscious.

Pete/Abel: Pete gave Guildias a grateful nod and focused on his breathing. He didn't want to speak just yet and tempt fate on the panic attack front, so he just tried to get his bearings and re-center himself.

Abel wasn't faring too much better, but he had the advantage of more magical experience.

"Wonder if I can make a barrier around us," he wondered aloud. "X does it all the time for privacy. Maybe it can work for Umbra lube."

Guildias: "I think the word we're looking for is Gauntlet." That uncomfortable veil which deterred most, but Peter was stronger than that. At least, so far.

"Slowly," he whispered. "Slow and shallow." A thick brown curl was pushed from between his eyes. "When you're ready, you lead."

Pete/Abel: "Gauntlet? Nah. That may be the technical term but this shit has the consistency of lube with none of the fun implications. So, Umbra lube. How we doing over there, Petey?"

Pete gestured with his hand to indicate 'so-so'. The scarf was helping the breathing situation, though. He was massively uncomfortable but no longer in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen.

"Hang in there, champ," said Abel. "We need to wipe his face so he can see."

Guildias: "Keep your eyes closed." The end of the scarf, the side which had been hidden during transition, was used to wipe at his eyelids and around his sockets. The substance was thin, and wiped away relatively easy.

"I assume for your kind this becomes easier."

Finally, Guildias looked back. "How are your eyes?" he asked Abel.

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't have to be told twice; he could barely open his eyes as it was.

"Thank you," he managed, sounding slightly breathless, like he was recovering from a workout.

Abel took a second to assess. "They're good, not great. Tried to duck my head as much as possible when we passed through, so only a little lube got in them."

Pete snorted. "Lube?"

"What else would you call this?"

Guildias: "Indulge the pup. Now, let's assume the child underwent the same treatment. Frightened, cold, in a broken mirror image of a familiar world. Where do you assume a child would go? I have but one theory."

Pete/Abel: Pete slowly blinked while he let his eyes adjust. They didn't sting or anything, but they very badly wanted to water.

"Uh...well. If I was a kid and I was lost, I'd try to find my house. Or at least something that looked familiar and safe."

Guildias: Guildias turned from whence they came. To a house without paint. Sagging with the weight of a tree growing on its roof. Its roots pierced through the ceiling and out through various windows. Spilled out from all sides of the roof and into the ground below. Only one window had stood the test of weight. Opened just wide enough for a little body to wriggle through.

"My assumption went through there."

Pete/Abel: Abel looked uneasily upon the tree. "There's no telling what the inside of that place looks like if this is what the outside looks like. Got your beacons out, Pete?"

Pete looked down at the crystals around his neck. Despite being covered in the same substance as the rest of him, he could swear they were glowing. "Apparently."

"Okay. Time to squeeze through the window. Hold on tight to Gil. I'll hold on tight to him too. Absolutely do not let go of each other."

Guildias: "Do you intend to each claim a foot as some golden prize?" His smile was brief but genuine. The window - kitchen window, from the looks of things - was pushed up until resistant. A tight squeeze, but manageable. They would only need to do this once. Assuming their way home was also in the sham of a laundry room here.

The vampire turned himself into a sitting position halfway through, body shifting in a manner almost unnaturally smooth. The house was blanketed in a dust thick enough to scrape away. Floating in the air in a kind of stasis. The handprint of a child on the fractured marble counter-top. Not a footprint in sight.

Pete/Abel: "In this world it might as well be," said Abel. Contact was the absolute name of the game right now; if they had that, they had a maybe decent chance of getting out of this okay.

Pete grunted as he squeezed through the window, the complete opposite of Guildias' inhuman grace. How'd he get here? How was squeezing through a window in the Veil something he was actually doing?

"Already sick of this place," he muttered in a whisper as he looked around. The handprint was a good indication that they were on the right track; the lack of footprint was not. "What, did this kid fly through here? Does anything look remotely disturbed to either of ya'll?"

Guildias: Guildias took a false breath. The air was stale, and thick with musk. The scent of rust and toiled earth blended almost seamlessly. His olfactory wasn't nearly as keen as he knew the Ravnos' to be. Might have come in handy, but he was otherwise occupied.

"That," he said. His tone suddenly quiet, as the only disturbance was that of roots. Roots which seemed to be breathing.

Pete/Abel: Abel looked uneasily to the tree. Other than the handprint and the open window, there were zero signs of life in here. Except, of course, for the tree. "Normally I'd say no way, buuuuut...."

Pete turned the tree as well. "What, you think the tree grabbed him? Wouldn't there be signs of that?"

"Not necessarily," said Abel. "Should we start hacking away at it? That seems like a bad move. It might attack us."

Guildias: "I think the best course of action would be to explore it. From bottom to top. We know he came in here, so I doubt he'd be on the roof. We can make that our last stop if we haven't found him."

Pete/Abel: Abel nodded. It seemed like a solid enough plan even though they weren't exactly spoiled for choice on how to proceed.

"Okay. So. Who's gonna be the first to touch the tree?"

"I'll do it," said Pete. "Any advice?"

"Uh...don't hurt it. Maybe--would it be weird to ask it for permission? I feel like it can definitely hear us."

Guildias: "No option is off the table. We'll see how it reacts to your nearness."

Guildias considered a moment before stepping down from his counter perch.

"I'll stand behind you. Follow Abel's idea. Hover your hand and ask."

Pete: Pete nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, here goes nothing."

He stepped closer to the tree, moving as cautiously and non-threateningly as he possibly could. If Abel was right and the tree was...sentient? somehow, then it couldn't hurt to be careful and respectful.

"Hello," he said softly, stopping just a couple steps away from the roots. "I'm looking for someone. Could you help me?"

Guildias: Guildias remained just behind, hand hovering over Peter's shoulder the same as Peter to the root. Ready to snatch at the first violent response.

The breathing root recessed from his presence. The tip of the root coiling defensively. A sound like a long hot exhale from within. A sickly-sweet stench blended with the scent of toiled earth.

Pete: So the tree was sentient. Good to have confirmation of that; gave him some idea of how to proceed.

"We're not here to hurt you," he said gently. "We won't hurt you. We just want to take this child home. He doesn't belong in this world. He belongs in our world."

Guildias: Guildias wanted to look back to Abel, but refused to remove his gaze. He would much rather have been wrong. Defense meant the capability of offense. Having any sense of emotion included anger and fear and worse.

A smaller root, hanging uselessly from the middle of the dining room ceiling began to lengthen, coiling away and tightening.

"Get away from it."

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't have to be told twice.

He took a few giant steps back from the tree, instinctively reaching for Abel and Guildias' hands.

Abel, meanwhile, had all his senses on high alert, trying to detect any hint of the little boy beneath the scent of dirt and decay.

Maybe the tree just smelled like that, or maybe they were already too late.

"Is he alive?" he asked the tree.

Guildias: Peter's elbow was gripped firmly, pushed just behind Guildias' arm. The tree his only attention.

The roots breathed again. As the one defensive coil relaxed by an inch, more roots curled. The thickest, larger than their combined mass, seemed to suck in a giant reluctant breath. Its exhale exuded more rotted stench. A low octave sound with humming vibrato. Words, but unintelligible.

Pete/Abel: A few beats of silence followed the...response? After which Pete said, "Either of you happen to speak tree?"

Abel shook his head. His face was set in serious lines, a rare display. "No. But that smell? It's either the tree itself or decomp," he said softly. It didn't necessarily mean it was the kid, but it was definitely something. That smell was unmistakable.

"Gil, any ideas on communication with sentient trees?"

Guildias: Guildias watched the root expand with every alien syllable, becoming impossibly large, beyond any tree of their world to his knowledge. It appeared wet. He suspected its surface sticky. The stench had remained consistent, but there was no conspicuous sign of a struggle, torn clothes, nor smears blood.

"Another time. Up the stairs."

Pete/Abel: Abel nodded. "All right. Come on, Petey, you heard the man."

He grabbed onto each of them and started backing out of the room, not taking his eyes off the tree until they were well clear of it. That wasn't to say one of those freakish roots couldn't stretch out and grab them but Abel felt better being away from it and the smell of death.

"Should we look in the kid's room?" Pete asked, compelled to whisper. "Might be worth a shot. There's no footprints leading this way but maybe...?"

Guildias: "Exactly why we're going upstairs." Through the kitchen, to the stairs separating the living room and kitchen. Stairs partially destroyed by roots and patched by the same. Caked dust on each step but that between the roots. Without disturbance to any of the floor, no area of the house could be overruled.

"Do you wish to sweep what remains of the first floor?" he asked Abel. "I'm more concerned with Peter's respiratory."

Pete/Abel: "Sweeping this much dust is gonna kick it up," said Abel. "I'd need to vacuum and I doubt the Umbra has power, but I'll have a looksee."

Pete shook his head. "I'm fine. Dust is the least of my worries right now. Let's just go to the kid's room. Together." This place was giving him the creeps. He spent a lot of time in the woods, surrounded by trees, but seeing all the branches holding everything together was just...unsettling.

Guildias: "Sweep - surveillance, searching, pup." He supposed his military background had caught the familiar, or this was just a familiar being idiosyncratic as usual. His tone remained patient just the same.

Pete/Abel: "Oh! You soldier types and your jargon." He gave a light smack to Guildias' arm. "In my defense, you mentioned breath--never mind. I'll give the place a once over."

"Abel, maybe you shouldn't--"

"Relax, buddy." Abel smiled. "Ain't going anywhere." He had magic; he didn't need to walk around to sweep the first floor.

He just had to listen, scent the air, put his feelers out for auras and energy signatures and other minds besides theirs. He wasn't looking to go poking around inside anyone's thoughts, he just wanted to get a feel.

For other people and for magic, and hopefully, for the little boy.

Guildias: What he sought would not be found on the first floor, but there was something. A sensation like static from the tree, damp with sentience, and if Abel were to consider above his head, where the static worsened...

Abel: Abel's brow furrowed. He turned his head to the left, waited. To the right, waited again. It wasn't coming from either direction. Then he looked up.

"We're not alone," he whispered after a moment. "I can feel something else here with us besides the tree. Up there somewhere." He pointed up the stairs. "We need to get into that room, it might be the kid. I can't quite make it out."

But first he needed to put out one more feeler so they wouldn't get a nasty surprise.

'Is anybody up there?' he thought in the direction of the second floor.

Guildias: A sleeping mind. That of a dream state. Alive, buzzing as youth often did. Peter's hand was directed to Guildias' jacket, heading up the stairs slowly, lingering on each step for a beat before attempting the next, pausing at the smallest groan of wood. The roots were no hurdle, only a humped bridge of breathing bark.

Abel: There was no response but that could be for any number of reasons. "I'm trying to talk to whoever it is," he told his companions, grabbing Pete's other hand. "They aren't saying anything back. I'll keep trying."

'We're coming up the stairs. It's okay, we aren't here to cause any harm. You're safe.' He reached out with his mind, letting the person or being's energy guide him to where they needed to go.

"This way."

Guildias: "I doubt they'd find much comfort in an invasive thought," Guildias muttered, looking back to inspect Peter's aversion of the root.

Pete/Abel: "Not barging in, Gil. Just ringing the doorbell."

Pete was trying very hard not to step on any bit that looked like it was made of tree root and being only partially successful. For all he knew the tree could feel all of them stepping on it and was waiting for the right time to strike. Maybe it was making Abel believe there was something upstairs when it was really just a trap designed to keep them all here, or worse, devour them whole.

"Are you ringing the doorbell on a person or another tree thing?"

"Jury's still out."

Guildias: "I think hearing a voice not your own in your mind is quite more than a doorbell." Had been his opinion since his most important murder.

The bedroom to the right, above the living room and kitchen, had long ago caved under the immense pressure. The bathroom visible by just a few feet. Its tile shattered and resigned from the walls. To the left, a small bedroom. The blue paint of the door crackled and chipped away. The breathing of the mother root, its stench, louder and more prominent.

Pete/Abel: "Not directly in it, just gently brushing against it. A whisper, like hearing something from far away."

Guildias probably didn't need a thorough explanation but Abel's babbling was more for his benefit than anyone else's. Anything to distract from the ruined house and smell of rotting flesh and the possibility that they were about to come upon a small little decomposing body.

"Guessing that's the one?" Pete asked, making an effort to breathe through his mouth. "Should we knock or just walk in?"

Guildias: "I'll go." Of those present, to his knowledge and current experience, Peter was most welcome in this umbral reality, but he'd risked enough.

His steps remained careful and deliberate, checking noisy floorboards as though hunting, mindful that the wrong step would dissolve their efforts.

The child's bedroom was as dust laden as the rest of the house. The roof collapsed by an enormous mother root.

Guildias reached behind for Peter. If ever there was a moment in which to keep a close grasp on the man, it was in seeing a boy, barely out of his toddling years, curled against the breathing black root, cradled between giant arm-like appendages. Eyes closed, breathing, suckling on a smaller thumb-like finger from one of the wrapped arms. This was not an appropriate moment for reflex action; perhaps his grasp of Peter was for himself.

Pete/Abel: Pete nodded. "Carefully, okay?" With the floors and everything else in the state they were in, he didn't like their odds of coming out of another altercation with those branches unscathed. Hell, he didn't like their odds of successfully walking across this floor without falling through.

He could see sky through the ceiling of the little boy's room. It had the same stench, the same lack of any sort of life apart from those damn--

"Oh..." he said softly. There he was. The little boy. Seemingly unharmed and sleeping peacefully as anything among the sentient roots.

Pete squeezed Guildias' hand just as Abel squeezed his. Much as he'd hoped this is what they would find, it was still a shock to see the kid safe. And alive.

He took a deep breath. "Thank God. We should..."

Abel nodded. "It should be you that goes and gets him."

Guildias: Abel was right, of course. Peter was the key to this going smoothly, whether he realized his capability or not. He would keep his mouth shut, being so near the entity. He hadn't realized how deep into the room he had stepped until needing Peter to take front and center.

Pete: "Guildias?" Pete barely whispered, squeezing the vampire's hand again. "How are we gonna do this?" Because he seriously doubted the tree was just going to let them take the little boy. For all that it was creepy and sentient and smelled like a rotting corpse, it seemed to be protecting him.

Guildias: "As you would... relieve an exhausted mother." The hold of the child was not hostile. There was no way to determine what was being fed to the boy, if anything. Something had rendered the child unconscious, evident by the gentle rise and fall of his stomach.

Pete: "I usually relieve an exhausted mother by taking her kids and watching them for a few hours so she can shower and sleep. But she doesn't have roots that'll kill us all for attempting to take him."

Guildias: "She's fallen asleep with her baby in her arms. I'm right behind you."

Pete/Abel: Pete took a deep breath. "Abel, any ideas?"

"Approach as non-threateningly as you can," Abel whispered. "Gil's right, the tree is protecting him. Look. It's cradling him, like a parent does. I don't think we're the only beings down here who care about that kid. Maybe that's why the tree tried to attack us downstairs. Here, let me--"

Abel took off his jacket and gave it to Pete to hold so he could take off his shirt. It was cleaner than the jacket and it would do to keep the little boy warm until they could get out of here.

Guildias: Guildias remained between them, kept his eyes on the root, studied its breathing, location of every hung and piled root, its grip on the child. He considered every possible angle, every reaction. They were in the heart of this house. Magic was unpredictable here. All of this on the suggestion of a Ravnos. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

Pete/Abel: Abel handed his shirt to Pete and put his jacket back on. "Remember, Petey, non-threatening. Come from a gentle, caring place, not a 'rescuing a tiny prince from a dragon' kind of place. The tree's kept that little kid safe down here and for that, I think it deserves our respect."

Pete nodded. Abel was right; whatever the circumstances, the tree was caring for that child. He turned to Guildias. "You have any advice?"

Guildias: Guildias forced half of his attention back to the pair, gestured with his free hand to keep their voices low. One of the reasons he was of few words.

"No. Fall back if something happens."

Pete: Another nod. "Okay," he whispered, taking a silent deep breath. Despite his apprehension, it didn't take much effort to approach the tree from a caring, gentle place. All he could see when he looked at that little boy was Graham. He couldn't begin to imagine how he'd feel if it were his nephew down here, lost and scared and away from everyone who loved him.

He had to bring this kid back to his parents.

Pete approached as slowly as he could, intending to crouch down when he was close enough and bundle up the kid.

Guildias: Still and silent he watched, ready to snatch for whatever bit of clothing he could fist. The surface objective was this child, but for the sake of others it was the well-being of the man in front of him. A promise not only to Callum, but the avoidance of Ravnos ire.

The tree exhaled a familiar musky odor. Contempt in its shiver for Peter's nearness. The child was lifted to a standing height, roughly shy of Peter's shoulders, and bundled with thin wispy black roots. The frequency of its rattling hiss turned Guildias' head in mild discomfort. Reminded him of a rattle snake. It was almost language, but the intent was clear.

Pete: Pete didn't let himself get agitated or make any sudden movements; he imagined he was in the serenity garden in the woods and forced himself to stay calm.

"I know you care about him," he said softly. "I know you've kept him safe and warm while he's been down here with you. If his mother knew that, she'd be grateful for it. She'd be grateful you kept her baby safe. She and his father miss him, they love him. He belongs up there with them, on the other side. I'm not here to hurt you, or him. I just want to take him back to his family."

Guildias: Peter's phrasing left him wondering. Was this, in fact, down or parallel to their reality? The association of down with Hell gave him pause. This was extrinsic, but nothing he could associate with the nightmares of Hell itself. Those of this reality must find their own as alien.

The sentient tree exhaled vibrations akin to words. Watching thin dark roots slowly covering the child's face and neck, a curious realization began to dawn on him.

Peter was slowly released; Abel pulled to replace him. He began to circle the enormous girth.

Pete/Abel: Both Pete and Abel looked to Guildias with identical looks of confusion.

"Gil, what are you doing?" Abel whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible. It didn't seem like a good idea to draw attention to themselves when Pete was trying to reason with the tree. "We're at a delicate point in the process."

Guildias: "Hush." He placed his hand on the wall as a guide. The air between them thick enough to lose sight of all but their outline. He looked behind the tree, then turned towards the door, intent on inspecting the next set of sagging sleeping roots.

Pete: All right, okay, Guildias was doing this. Whatever the hell this was. Abel very much wanted to ask him what he was doing again but decided against it. He could always think it at him, but they probably wouldn’t be well received.

He’d just go with what was happening and keep one eye on Pete and the other on Guildias and keep his supernatural senses on the tree and the kid.

Guildias: There was a connection between what was happening to the child and the unpleasant lingering odor. He would not yet voice suspicions without evidence. He'd keep his hand to the wall, ribbed along a curtain of inky roots shivering from his dead touch. They recoiled, dissatisfied with what little they could learn from him. He watched, touched again, and then breathed life into his body. The shivers and low frequency hisses calmed with his growing warmth.

Guildias continued down the hallway, brushed his fingers along where a window should be, long since broken, dust covered, mostly replaced by the same living root.

The bathroom near the stairs. The same stench. He peered inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, irises becoming pale.

He almost missed it. A thin gray hoof peeking from a massive swallowing root. All that remained of an ungulate mammal.

Keeping his movements calm, Guildias turned, replaced his right hand to the wall and began the short journey back.

Pete/Abel: While Guildias did his thing, Pete debated his own next move. He'd said his piece to the tree and the tree hadn't seemed particularly receptive. It didn't seem particularly receptive to Guildias either, so saying more would only risk pissing it off and making it attack one of them or worse, hurt that little boy.

So...all he could do was wait.

He was doing a much better job of that than Abel, who was starting to feel antsy. Should he mentally ask Guildias what was happening? Probably not. He hadn't seemed thrilled with the idea of mental communication earlier.

Guildias: For a moment, Guildias wondered if the rooms had changed. The hallway felt longer than his initial roam. By at least twenty feet. The floor was layered by a thick blanket of roots. They breathed, reaching like long skeletal fingers for his boots, gripping with anemic strength to his clothes.

He reached down to brush away a particularly curious root. A gambler's knife, wrapped tightly in black tape, was pulled from his boot.

"Get away from it," he called, keeping his voice above a whisper.

Abel: Abel didn't need telling twice. He barely needed telling once, already on edge and itching to do something when he heard Guildias' voice. A voice that was absolutely not whispering like it had been before which meant something bad had happened.

He grabbed Pete's arm and yanked him a few giant steps back. "What?! What is it!?"

Guildias: "Follow my voice." He reached out into the mist, his knife-hand to the wall to continue guiding him back to the little bedroom.

Pete/Abel: "Follow--okay." Abel wouldn't question or hesitate, he just grabbed Pete's arm and held it tight. "Okay, okay. Come on, Petey."

Any hesitation was on Pete's part. It didn't feel right leaving the little boy behind, even if it was only for a short while. At least he hoped so. He also hoped to God that Guildias had an actual plan because what they had tried thus far just wasn't going to cut it. The Umbra might have accepted them, the tree might be standing down, but no way in hell was it going to let them leave with the kid just like that. They weren't that lucky.

Still, he'd do as he was asked; holding onto Abel with one hand and reaching out for Guildias with the other. "Keep talking so we can find you."

Guildias: What he grabbed was warmer than root, and fleshy. He assumed Abel for no reason. He pulled. Keeping close to the wall, he pulled his foot, breaking several clingy bits of brittle bark.

"Have you two remained in each other's sights?"

Pete/Abel: It was Pete’s hand, and it squeezed Guildias’ and held tight.

“Yes,” said Pete.

Abel nodded whether Guildias could see him for not. “The whole time, scout’s honor. What have you been doing? Are you okay?”

“What was that noise?” Pete looked around at the walls, the ceiling, the floor.

Guildias: He would answer all questions with a single-minded explanation. "I've regarded it as Mother of this house. If so, it's the kind of mother that eats her children. Loves them to death. What was it doing to the child last you saw?"

Pete/Abel: “Fucking fantastic,” Abel muttered under his breath.

Pete felt his heart leap into his throat. “It was covering him in more roots. Little ones, like it was trying to hide him. I thought it was trying t—we have to go back in there. We have to go, right now!”

Guildias: "I'm thinking we will be its next children if we don't act soon."

Pete: “Great, what do we do? Got a hatchet so we can cut the kid free?”

Guildias: "Can you conjure a hatchet?" Another root was pulled from his shoe. He lowered to give similar treatment to the pair.

Pete/Abel: “Magic works differently here but I can try,” said Abel. “Pete, you got anything hatchet-like?”

“I’ve got a pocketknife.”

Abel turned to Guildias. “Do you need the hatchet for the roots or for something else?” He needed to know how strong the blade needed to be. Altering was easier than conjuring; there was a slightly better chance of being able to magically alter Pete’s knife than conjuring up something else entirely.

Guildias: "It's for you... and what you're going to do to me." Guildias sat up again. "Don't remain stagnant." He began to remove his jacket, handed to Peter to wear or hold.

"If you're going to make attempt, do so now."

Pete/Abel: “Don’t remain—?” Right, the creepy fucking roots trying to mother them to death. Couldn’t stay still and let them.

“What exactly are we going to do?” Pete asked, accepting the jacket while Abel rooted around in his bag for the knife.

Guildias: "You're going to be quick taking the child. It should be occupied by mine and Abel's efforts. When he takes the child, Abel," he paused to make sure he was heard, "you need to be the leader back to the exit. Understood?"

Abel: Abel gave Guildias his full attention right up until he nodded that he understood. He didn't know what the vampire planned to do but he had to trust him; there was no room for hesitation or uncertainty on this side of the Veil.

"Pete, give me your wrist. I put three beacon crystals on you, there are three of us, and I'm not leaving anything to chance." He took the crystal from one of Pete's wrist and put it on Guildias'. The crystal on the chain was taken for himself. "Remember we have our other pendants that are warm when we're together. Tuck those into your shirts so you can feel them." He held up the knife. "Gil, I need you to tell me exactly what this is going to cut so I can make it strong enough."

Guildias: Guildias felt for Abel's gifts and nodded. He told himself this was an irrational leap, but the alternative was failure and it would haunt Peter for too long. If they tried to snatch the child, it could be as mothered as the unfortunate in the bathroom. Their efforts already brought the child closer to his death.

This was arduous no matter the plan. Efficiency was key.

Guildias began rolling the sleeve of his left arm. Two thin scars peeked from his shoulder.

"You're going to remove all of this. It'll be easier as you go along."

Pete/Abel: Pete's eyes widened. "Your arm? You want Abel to cut off your whole arm?!"

Abel blew out a long breath and tried to concentrate on the magic and not on the fact that he was pretty sure Pete was right and Guildias meant for him to lop off his arm. What he planned to do with the arm, Abel had no earthly or godly idea but dammit, this knife was going to do the job. No hesitation, no uncertainty.

He'd just hurl later.

Guildias: "Compose yourself. It'll grow back. We don't have time to be repulsed."

Pete: There was so much wrong with that statement Pete didn't know where to even begin. But Guildias was right, they were up against the clock at the moment.

"Fine, fine. What exactly are we going to do with you down an arm?"

Guildias: "You won't do anything. Your focus is the child, and ignoring everything else. Look away if you need to."

Pete: "Dude, we've gotta stop doing things that scar me for life when we hang out."

Guildias: "I'll always disturb you. We're on opposite sides of the page."

His gaze returned to Abel. "Are you ready?"

Pete/Abel: "You're a lot less disturbing when you've got all your parts attached."

Abel was deep in concentration and thus didn't answer. A hatchet sure as hell would've made the task easier and if he wanted to avoid carving that arm off like a butcher with a turkey, he knew he had to do his best to get this knife as close to one as possible.

He closed his eyes and held the blade in both hands, silently moving his lips as he recited a spell. The blade would lengthen, grow stronger, and fall heavier. Not a hatchet, but as close as he trusted himself to get. He was just grateful it seemed to work in this unpredictable environment.

"At the shoulder or the elbow?" he asked at long last.

Guildias: Guildias had intended shoulder, but he looked one last time to reconsider.

"Shoulder," he affirmed. He needed something he knew would be a worthy distraction. A little smaller than the child, but formidable.

"Ignore what I do next." He had to concentrate on his own spell. One he had to pull from memories from another body. A spell deliverable in every language, more potent in its original form, but tonight, spoken in the tongue of a former devoted student.

He reached for Peter, ignored his hand and squeezed his jacket. When the edge of the blade dug into dead flesh, he began to whisper in hissed, stuttered Hindi.

Pete/Abel: "Copy that," Abel sighed, steeling his nerve. He had to put some distance between himself and what he was about to do or he'd never be able to do it. "Petey, close your eyes and cover your ears, okay?"

This was venison. He was carving into venison, not the flesh of a friend. He'd done it a hundred times with his grandma and with his old mistress. He was just preparing dinner and definitely not separating this man's arm from his body with a magically enhanced blade.

Thankfully, the lack of blood helped that particular delusion.

Pete was way ahead of him. He was being flooded by deja vu, thinking back to the Draegan house and the last time he'd had to shield himself against something awful. The last time Guildias had tried to shield him from something awful.

Guildias: The Setite refused to scream. Forced his prayer to continue, stumbling from Hindi to Coptic and back with a slam of his fist to the living wall. The roots shivered and lashed defensively, retreated by an inch to avoid another bashing.

The drooped frozen fingers began to move, twisting backward and forward in sharp unnatural convulses.

"raakshason kee maata. raakshason kee maata."

His head bowed, loose strands hiding his face as he dry-heaved. Words hissed and spat as dead flesh mangled itself and reshaped, thickening as it gurgled like a monstrous coo of a child.

"Get the child." Blindly, he offered his knife to Peter. "Move."

Pete/Abel: "You're okay, Gil. You're okay, promise."

God, the noises. It was like when he'd gone hunting with Callum's family only a million times worse knowing it was Callum's husband and not an animal.

Pete only dared open his eyes when he was certain the cutting noises had stopped but he still didn't look. There were other noises happening and he really didn't want to know what was making them. He just kept his head turned and his feet moving and told himself there was nothing out of the ordinary.

He was off like a shot when Guildias gave him the word, just barely managing to take the knife from him in his haste to get back into the room and back to the kid. Pete had no fucking idea what was happening but what he did know was that he was going to cut that child free of those creepy fucking branches and take him back to family come hell or high water.

You can't have him. I won't let you. I'm taking him back.

Guildias: Peter was not alone. Guildias stumbled behind, keeping Abel within sight, but it was not the vampire trailing at the Gurahl's heels. The screech of what followed rang through the desolate house and down the Setite's throat. His intent woven into its resolute action. A hideous taupe creature a quarter Peter's height slithered on its thick lepidote tail and two bony hand-like appendages. Fangs curved and so large it could not close its mouth. Its tiny claws dug and splintered the hardwood floor to propel itself. Torso violently undulating with every snatch of the floor. Its breathing came rapid, chittering with sanguineous excitement.

It waited impatiently for Peter to attempt for the child before throwing itself upon the sagging mother root with a scream so shrill Guildias would swear hurt his eyes. It tore at the smaller surrounding roots. Sunk its fangs into fleshy bark and clawed like a rabid animal. The tree reacted quickly. Exhaling a stench so foul the air became thick and acrid. Desperate roots from above and below whipped at the creature, tried to grab its unruly tail. Its new insolent child was enough to occupy its conscious.

Pete/Abel: Ungodly. That was the only way Pete could describe the noises and the screeching and the sensations creeping over his skin as surely as if whatever was behind him were crawling all over him. It didn't matter what horrible magic Guildias had done to help him and he sure as hell wasn't about to look and find out.

Not when it gave that blood-curdling shriek that threatened to scramble his brain or tore at the roots and made the tree release a stench that could be nothing but the smell of rotting, burning Hell itself. Pete just kept his eyes on that little boy, wrapping him in Abel's shirt and tucking him close to protect him from the stench and the screaming and the few remaining roots that clung desperately to any part of him that they could before Abel stepped in to slice them away.

"We're going now! NOW!"

Guildias: Guildias swallowed down the false effort of breathing. He wanted no part of that stench. The guardianship of his monster was relinquished to the tree. Whatever it intended to do was or no consequence, so long as they reached the way out.

Don't stop. Not for the clingy roots or the noises upstairs. Keep moving.

Abel: That's exactly what Abel planned to do. He wanted out of this upside down, creepy ass Alice in Wonderland nightmarish hellscape and the smell of decomposing flesh and god only knew what else.

"GIL, HOLD ON TO PETE WITH YOUR ONLY HAND, PETE HOLD ON TO ME WITH YOUR FREE ONE LET'S GO!"

Down the crumbly stairs and over all the holes and rotting wood and dust to the gate. If a tiny part of him wondered if that fucking tree had the power to close the entrance it was quickly and viciously tramped down. He had even less time to dwell on that than he'd had to dwell on Guildias' missing arm.

Guildias: When this was finished, Guildias intended to have a laugh at Abel's choice of words. Seemed quite appropriate for a familiar. Just a little too obnoxious.

He held to the back of Peter's clothing, glanced back to observe the shriveling roots, reflecting the upstairs turmoil.

Abel: This couldn't be over soon enough. It almost seemed like the house had grown somehow while they'd been upstairs, no doubt having intended to trap them all here until it could absorb them into its maw. Made perfect sense now why this place smelled like decomp.

It wasn't like decomp, it was decomp, from what were probably untold masses of beings from their realm and countless others who'd had the misfortune of getting trapped here with that tree since time immemorial.

But not them.

They had arrived at the exit. Abel climbed through as quickly as he could, shouting for whoever was near to help him pull out Pete and Guildias and the little boy.

MJ/Rosmond: MJ looked back towards the sound, hesitant to move due to the camera. Rosmond was Abel's first responder, grabbing hold of what he could see and pulling with calculated strength. Now was not the time to begin questioning the strange sticky substance covering their bodies from head-to-toe.

Pete/Abel: Having known what to expect the second time around, Pete did his best to shield his face and the kid’s from the Umbra lube, as Abel had proclaimed it. If he couldn’t shield himself completely, then at least he could for the kid, who was safely bundled in Abel’s shirt and half tucked into Pete’s jacket.

The first thing Pete did as soon as they were free—after wiping his face as best he could—was check to make sure the kid was breathing and okay.

Guildias/Rosmond: Guildias' eyes remained closed as he emerged. His missing limb went unnoticed as Rosmond inspected the child, only taking pause when he caught the Setite holding an empty space at his shoulder.

He would ask later.

"We were not here. Leave the child in the grass. Don't touch anything on the way out."

Pete: Pete was only half paying attention to Rosmond.

He needed to see that tiny little chest moving up and down with each breath, needed to feel the reassuring thump of a pulse in that tiny little wrist.

“You’re okay, buddy,” he whispered, using the shirt to clean off any goop that had managed to cover the boy. He wasn’t sure if this was why Abel had asked him to bring an extra sweater, but this was as good a reason as any to finally take it out of his bag.

Spring was right around the corner but it was still chilly at night and in the mornings. Too chilly for a little boy to just be out here in his pajamas. He’d survived the Umbra and a sentient tree; Pete wasn’t about to let the elements get him.

Guildias/Rosmond: Guildias turned to check the wall for residue. Rosmond was right of course; there could be no suspicion. They'd covered most of their tracks; the last mile was the most arduous.

Rosmond studied the child and Peter's worried brow, assessed their quiet acquaintance and turned back.

"A message to Charon and an anonymous phone call will be made. None of us are doctors. You must trust the plan."

A gentler, less chilly approach was required. This much Guildias understood, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Calloway or I can stay and watch from the woods, but the child is not under Rosmond's influence."

Pete: “I’m not leaving him,” Pete said softly, bundling the little boy into the sweater as gently as if he were a newborn. “I’m not going anywhere until this child is back in his mother’s arms. I’ll watch from the woods.”

Guildias: "They will search these woods. I'm at no strength to conceal you."

Abel: "I am," Abel finally piped up. "I can hide us with magic, we don't even have to rely on the cover of the trees."

MJ/Rosmond: "That FBI SUV's gotta go," said MJ.

"I can trust you to keep them safe, Mr. Harrington?" Rosmond stared forwardly.

Abel: "You can bet your life on it, Rosmond. I have all kinds of tricks up my sleeve." And demonic backup just a thought away as well as in his pockets.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: Rosmond studied those eyes, finding nothing of fault, he nodded. Turned his expression on Guildias.

"You're coming with me. Mr. Calloway-"

"I got em. I'll text ya."

Another nod. The two began to retrace their steps back to the SUV. Only a glance back from the Setite.

Abel: Abel gave Guildias a smile and a wave. “See you soon, Gil. Sorry about the whole...” He gestured at where the vampire’s arm was supposed to be. “I’ll make it up to you after I get very drunk and repress that memory.”

MJ: "Told y'all not t'come back armless. What the fuck happ - after. After. We gotta put him down somewhere noticeable."

Pete/Abel: "You had to go and put it out there," Abel muttered, digging in his pockets. After would have to wait for both the boy to be found, Abel to get drunk, and several days to pass. He needed time to process what the hell kind of night he was having.

Pete was already carrying the little boy to the front porch. He couldn't bring himself to leave him on the lawn; made more sense that he'd fall asleep on the porch after wandering out of the woods. That's the story he assumed Rosmond and Prince were going to go with, and as far as mysteries went, it was the simplest.

MJ/Rosmond: The point, Rosmond believed, was not to implement the family and have the child taken away on suspicions. Whatever the intention, in truth he did not care. The call would be made by Charon saying a child had been spotted. From there it was out of their hands. This mission had been about the people within, not the child in Peter's arms. His assessment found him impressed with Guildias' willingness of both life and limb. Everyone in some capacity played their role well.

MJ gently tugged on Peter's sleeve, encouraging him from the slumbering little boy. The sweater had to go. Fuck if he could tell if any hair had transferred from Peter. A last minute thought.

"You're probably leavin' trace." He looked to Abel. "Is there anything ya can do?"

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't move. He couldn't. He was frozen to the spot, imagining all the ways this could've gone so much worse than it did, seemingly unable to keep from picturing Mary and Graham in the clutches of that tree.

Abel nodded at MJ. "I'll cut the labels from the sweater so it can't be ID'ed. Feel like slipping in and seeing if they have tape or a lint roller? I'll keep Petey company."

MJ: "Easier t'just take the damn thing. I dunno how long them people are gonna stay asleep."

Abel: Abel subtly nodded toward Pete and gave MJ a look that said that wasn’t going to happen.

“Be fast. Most people keep lint rollers in the laundry room.”

MJ: "I can't magic away a hair of yours in his own. They'll comb it, Peter. Don't hover over him."

Abel: “Wait, I can—ugh, this night.” For a moment he’d forgotten he could teleport. “I’ll go, you stay.”

And he was gone.

MJ: "Well no shit!" The fuck happened, he thought. All three of them with flies and haze in their head. Faraway looks in their eyes. Lack of critical thinking.

"Y'all were only in there five minutes. What was it?"

Pete: Pete finally looked up, brow furrowed slightly, as though deep in thought.

“It was five minutes for you?”

MJ: "Yeah... So how long was it?"

Pete: “I don’t know. Longer.”

MJ: "Kay. Where was it?"

Pete: “Here, but different. Wrong.”

MJ: "God y'all are rubbin' off on me. Where was he?"

Pete/Abel: “In his room with the tree.”

Abel reappeared in almost the exact same spot he’d disappeared from with lint roller in hand.

“Back! Okay okay okay.” He began gently—and quickly—going over the sweater, paying close attention to the areas most likely to have any stray Pete hairs. Chances were that any hairs would come up very bear-like when examined but even so, it paid to be on the safe side.

MJ: "In a room with the tree. Okay. We gotta move him to the front of the house. I'll finish with the cam here. Wait for me 'round the corner. Don't go t'the front yet."

Abel: Abel nodded. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Just let me...” He carefully cut the label off the neck of the sweater. “Okay, done. Come on, Petey, let’s go wait for MJ.”

MJ: The backyard was untouched. No one had been there. The final bit of illusion belonged to the front yard, moving carefully to the next camera for the same treatment. The child was given a once over. Something of his likeness needed to walk from the eastern woods to the porch and lay in the most natural position Peter could place him. Had to be natural, he reminded. Not swaddled.

Pete/Abel: Pulling the sweater over the little boy's head--after Abel had smeared some dirt on it to make it seem like it had been found in the woods--was as natural as Pete could make it. On his side, with the too-long sleeves providing some cushion for his head.

"How's that?"

MJ: It would have to do. "Kay. Let's go." With little consideration, he took hold of Peter's hand and tugged. Free hand still directed towards the last camera, praying to no one that he'd maintained concentration enough.

Pete/Abel: Pete was still reluctant to go but he knew it would do no good to linger. What that kid needed more than anything else in the world was to be back with his family and if all went well, he would be before long.

"Come on, Petey," said Abel. "He'll be okay. Let's head for those bushes there so I can hide us until he's found."

MJ: MJ was last to follow, walking backwards carefully until reaching the woods. Certain that Abel could shield him when the moment was right. Finally dropping his hand, he took an unneeded breath and made the text to Rosmond.

Abel: Of course Abel could shield them; he was Xavier Atlas' familiar. Half his time was spent breaking into some house or private collection or another with his master. Pulling one over on human cops? Just another day.

When they were all settled, he took a talisman from his pocket and began murmuring a chant. He'd done it without the talisman before but it was a good safety net just in case. If anyone were to look in their direction once he was finished, all they would see would be shadows.

"And now we wait."

MJ: Not his first time observing Abel's magic. He made it look so effortless. So real. Far better than his version of concealment, having to memorize surroundings in order to mimic. Superior magic. For now.

Still waiting. And would wait for some time. After Rosmond had made certain to place distance between his vehicle and the house.

"Ya good, Peter?"

Pete: Pete shrugged, only half paying attention to what Abel was doing or how much time had passed. His eyes and his brain were glued to the porch.

“Been worse.”

MJ: "The call's been made. Just a little longer."

Abel: Abel wrapped an arm around Pete’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hear that? Won’t be long now. Then we can get a huge bottle of tequila and process our PTSD.”

MJ: "Y'all make it sound like y'all came outta Hell."

Abel: “We didn’t not not go to Hell, at least that’s what it felt like. I cut off a man’s arm. It’s been a stressful night.”

MJ: "You cut Guildias up?"

Abel: Abel gave a single nod. "He asked me to."

MJ: "Fuckin' why?"

Abel: "To save the kid from a horrifying sentient tree."

MJ: "Just threw his fuckin' arm at it?"

Abel: He shook his head. “Not exactly. It—he did...something and his arm wasn’t...an arm anymore. It was something else and that—something distracted the tree so we could grab the kid and get the hell out of that creepy Alice in Wonderland hellscape.”

MJ: "Huh." Maybe that was why Rosmond spoke the way he did, and why he'd been suggested for the mission. Another reason, he thought.

Abel: “Then there was the Umbra lube and the dust that didn’t behave like dust should behave and the smell of the decomposing flesh of the other unfortunate beings who’d found themselves in the clutches of the tree and been mothered to death by it.”

MJ: "Sounds like a Tool video." He tried to laugh. Came more as a cough.

Abel: “God I wish. That would’ve been easier to deal with. And less scarring.”

MJ: "Since when'd ya ever watch -" Hands clasped down on Peter and Abel's shoulders. Tires. Old, terrible oil. Had to be the oldest damn squad car he'd ever seen. He braced himself between the two men, half-standing and ready to react.

Abel: "In that dive bar in Colorado with that dude with the skunk stripes in his hair."

Abel turned toward the sound of the car and sighed. Finally. "Don't worry, they won't be able to hear us. We'll sound like wind to them."

MJ: "Baby boy's been found. So we should..." MJ considered a moment, dropped his hand from Peter's shoulder. "Mafia gave ya lookin' glass. The loupe. Check it."

Pete/Abel: Pete seemed to stir from a trance that broke the moment MJ moved his hand. His attention was still focused on the boy and the house, and he wasn't ready to move until he saw the parents come out and hug their child.

"Looking glass? Oh, right." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the loupe.

"Want to check the portal?" Abel asked.

MJ: "Yeah. Or this'll just start again."

Pete: Pete held up the loupe and turned in the direction from which they'd come, holding there for a moment before scanning the rest of the house.

"I don't see anything. Does that mean it closed?"

MJ: "Guess so. Rosmond would know more. S'why I went t'them. We make our money differently."

Pete: Some of the tension drained from Pete's shoulders. He still wasn't thrilled about how much information the prince had, but knowing that damn portal had closed made him feel a lot better about this whole situation.

"You made the right call. On Rosmond and on going in to save the kid. Thank you."

MJ: "Ya hate him, right? Rosmond. Gertrude. Ya hate em on my behalf or some shit." He watched the cop as he continued to bang on the front door. Lights upstairs switching on. Sirens in the distance.

Pete: Pete shook his head. “I don’t hate them. I dislike what they represent and I resent it, but I don’t hate them. Hating takes energy I’d rather spend on something else.”

Some more tension eased as the house started waking up. Soon, very soon.

MJ: "I know a little thing 'bout artful wordin'." His eyes fell to the bracken. "Part of the job. I don't hate any of em, either."

Abel was given a pat. "Let's start backin' out."

Pete/Abel: “I know it sounds like bull,” Pete sighed. “But it’s the truth. I have no beef with the mafia lieutenant or with the don.”

Abel shook his head. “Not yet. We haven’t gotten our emotional resolution yet.”

MJ: "Then read a book! Probably gonna put em on an ambulance, first."

Abel: "They better," said Abel. "No telling what he went through before we got there." He caught MJ's eye and gave him a look. 'Petey needs this,' he thought to him. 'All this struck close to home.'

MJ: 'Why though?' He didn't mean to seem callous, but their priorities were going in separate directions. His job had been the outside of the house, their mission finished in five minutes from his perspective. His urgency was in leaving, and the safety of the crouching men.

Abel: 'He's got a nephew and a little baby niece. Their photos are all over his house, they've got their own room for when they stay over. I saw his face in there. He was looking at the little boy but he was seeing his family.'

MJ: 'Too long.' A thought for himself, projected accidentally. Peter's reaction solidified his reason for being so adamant about renewing their relationship. A few years and circumstances had changed them into different men. The fumbling angry boys at a carnival were ghosts.

MJ took a step back, slowly retreating in their initial direction.

Abel: 'What's too long? Hey, don't move! This spell's got a range and it's not that big!'

MJ: MJ took to crouching a ways away, where Abel began his mental shout. Still watchful, ready to protect, but from here he felt more perceptive.

Pete: Pete was completely unaware of the silent conversation happening around him. He was too busy watching the house and the lights from the police cars, listening for the approach of an ambulance.

Despite the presence of help, he still didn't feel completely at ease. That wouldn't happen until that little boy's mother finally came out of the house. Pete watched the confusion and delight and relief play over her face as she was briefed by the officers and finally, finally got to hold her baby again. He heard her grateful prayers and thanks through her sobs and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"We can go now," he said.

MJ: Peter was ready, at last. His willingness to engage loosened a knot in MJ's shoulder. He wanted to reach for him again. Take his hand and pull him under his arm and back them way they came. They would do all of that, but not hand-in-hand. He wanted to, but the gesture in the moment felt empty.

"Come on, then."

Abel: "And that has made this all worth it," Abel said cheerfully, getting to his feet and helping Pete do the same. "Okay, everyone grab a hand. We going back to Pete's?"

MJ: "Sure." What he really wanted was a large rock in the middle of a lake to lay on. Smoke a cigarette and listen to stories of the world he'd been denied. He wanted to watch Guildias grow his arm back. Listen to Peter's voice and fall asleep with Abel's head in his lap.

Pete/Abel: “Actually...” Pete looked between them. “Can we go to the river? I want a swim.”

Abel nodded. “Sure. You and MJ can swim and I’ll get us some supplies and we can get really drunk.”

MJ: "Y'all get really drunk." He shouldn't have been surprised by Peter's request, but its lost familiarity took him from his guard. "Let's do it. Behind Callum's place is safe."

Abel: “We’ll get drunk for us and for Gil and for you.” Abel took their hands and gave them each a squeeze.

“Brace yourselves.”

He gave them a moment and in an instant, the burgeoning crime scene was replaced by Callum’s dock and the tranquility of the river.

MJ: Not a moment after his feet landed upon soft grass did he begin to strip of his heavy jacket and boots. Hopping on one foot to remove socks and waddle towards the dock while arguing with his old belt. A trail of evidence left behind without once looking back towards the house.

Pete/Abel: Pete followed soon after, but not without taking a moment for the world (and his stomach) to settle. Impossible to get used to that feeling.

“You okay, Petey?”

Pete nodded. “Yep, I’m good. I’m gonna...” He gestured toward the river.

“Yes, swim. I’ll be back.”

And Abel disappeared again.

MJ: MJ remained crouched at the very edge of the dock. Arms against his knees as he watched the water. Waited for Peter to join him, looking over his shoulder to smile.

Pete: Finally being able to take off clothes covered in Umbra slime was the best Pete had felt all night. There was no way in hell a wash was going to save these. They needed burning.

He sighed in relief as he went to join MJ. “What?” he chuckled.

MJ: "Ya ever seen that film, uh, Poltergeist?"

Pete: “Yep, and I’ve hated clowns ever since.”

MJ: "That's you right now, with the shit all over ya."

Pete: “Goddamn Umbra lube. Felt like I was being waterboarded when we first went in. Ready to get it off.”

Without ceremony, he leapt into the water.

MJ: MJ watched a moment, as though waiting for something to happen. Some unforeseen reaction. Only when Peter emerged did he drop with dead weight into the water.

Pete: Pete’s entire body seemed to sigh in relief. The river felt just as good as any shower, maybe even better. Cold be damned.

“Fucking—it’s in my chest hair!”

MJ: "It sure is." He reached for his chest and flinched back - tried to play his retreat back by combing his own hair.

Pete: “Ugh...” He scrubbed at his skin, trying to get it off and trying not to notice that MJ had wanted to touch him.

“My skin and the water around me aren’t reacting, right?”

MJ: "Can't tell, honestly. Ain't got that sweet ass night vision like ya."

Pete: He scrubbed some more. “Well, no itching, burning, or glowing so far. I’ll take that as a good sign.”

MJ: "Guildias'll probably keep some, or Rosmond'll make him keep some. For science n'shit."

Pete: Pete squeezed some slime out of his facial hair and examined it closely. "I wonder what actual science would come up with if this stuff was tested. I'm guessing the kind of science they would do is actually magic."

MJ: "The kinda shit Giovanni do is like Frankenstein's madhouse. Science n'magic sorta become the same shit."

Pete: "I've been to Frankenstein's madhouse, it sucks."

MJ: "Talkin' 'bout Umbra?"

Pete: He nodded. "Yeah. Worse place I've ever been and I was in a microscopic part of it."

MJ: "I can't say from experience it's better or worse. It reflects. That's all I got."

Pete: "Sure does, like a funhouse mirror from hell." Some more scrubbing at his skin and hair and back below the surface he went.

MJ: "Ya know-" He'd wait for his return. "If ya feel that gross just go take a shower. His place is right there."

Pete: Pete shook the water from his head. “I’ll get around to it. I wanted a swim first. You know my thing with the river, always helps clear my head.”

MJ: "Yeah. Got a love-hate relationship with em."

Pete: “You currently on the love side or the hate side?”

MJ: "Got love for it right now."

Pete: “Glad to hear it.” Pete shifted to float on his back and heaved a long, content sigh.

“....So this whole time Guildias has been able grow limbs back like a lizard?”

MJ: Peter was watched for a moment before joining, staring at the sky. "We call can."

Pete: “Wait, seriously?! Is it magic or?”

MJ: "I mean, it's the blood. Takes a bunch, but he'll be his old cobra-self in no time."

Pete: “It’s crazy isn’t it? All blood does for the living is get oxygen everywhere so tissue and organs stay alive. Give some to a vampire and limbs grow back.”

MJ: "The moon's a rock in outer space n'ya become a fuckin' bear."

Pete/Abel: He snorted. "Touche. Never thought life would be so goddamn weird."

The rustle of plastic bags and clinking of bottles signaled Abel's return. "I'm back! I've got tequila and snacks and a snack for MJ!"

MJ: MJ looked towards the sound and smiled again.

"Your wrist? Fuckin' delicious."

Abel: "Nope, not mine, although good to know I have the appeal to you that a cheeseburger does to me. How would you feel about a taste of our own lovely Isabel, who was all moony-eyed over you going into the netherworld on a rescue mission? Don't worry, I didn't tell her you didn't actually go in."

MJ: "Mm, moon-y blood. Probably tastes better. I mean way better. It's Isabel."

A wink to Peter. Harmless teasing, he swears.

"Hey, I kept y'all from gettin' caught. The mafia and I are essential workers!"

Pete/Abel: Pete gave a good-natured chuckle. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Isabel is cute?”

Abel nodded. “Oh yeah, super cute with an adorable accent. She’s from Mexico.” He grinned over at MJ as he started unpacking the bags. “Damn right, Aquaman. You earned this moony blood and Petey earned his tequila. Come and get it.”

MJ: MJ climbed back onto the docks, allowing his feet to dangle.

"Ya know the whole 'if ya don't use it ya lose it'? She keeps me honest with my Spanish." He didn't have his mother and sister to speak to anymore. Not like that. The quick texts he could manage in good conscience with Kenna were in English. No phone call in years now.

"So what ya do with all the uh... goo?" he pointed over Abel's body.

Pete/Abel: After allowing himself one more dunk, Pete followed suit. It wasn't a shower and it was cold as fuck but the water felt great.

"We all need someone like that," he said as he hoisted himself up. "My mentor and his family still help me with my French." He accepted the bottle of tequila from Abel with a grateful nod.

Abel looked down at his chest. Most of the slime was gone but some still remained. "Isabel sprayed me off with the hose in the garden after Xavier took a sample."

MJ: "Of course he did." MJ smiled privately to Peter. "Sprayed ya down with a fuckin' hose. I love our life."

MJ glanced back to the house one last time, expecting a light; expecting to see Rosmond's SUV round the corner. Too soon. Abel had taken advantage of fewer numbers and now they'd have some explaining to do to Callum should he spot them first.

He kept those thoughts to himself and enjoyed a bit of Isabel.

Pete/Abel: Pete chuckled to himself. 'Took a sample' sounded like Rosmond and Gertrude weren't going to be the only ones doing some magic-science.

"Hey, it did the job. Petey, I got us some goldfish and hot fries and nachos. And stuff to turn the tequila into margaritas!"

A laugh this time. "You brought margarita supplies?"

"Hells yeah! Want one?"

"Hit me."

MJ: "Fuck, how much did ya fuckin' buy?" It all smelled... interesting. Food but not food. Familiar but unwholesome. A scent of memories and nothing more.

Abel: "A good bit. We've earned it." The only thing he hadn't bought was ice but that was no problem for someone with magic; as long as he had the essentials, they were golden. "Some lime juice, some salt, some tequila, and a dash of magic combined in the finest cocktail shaker the liquor store could offer. We shake it up." He shook it. "And we've got some much-earned catharsis. Hand me a solo cup."

MJ: MJ handed the cup over, watching the river as he supped. He could smell everything described and then some. Still smell the moisture of Umbra over Abel's skin and hair; could smell Xavier's cologne. Something about it was peaceful.

"Xavier ask 101 questions?"

Abel: Abel poured Pete’s margarita and handed it over. “Only a few,” he said, pouring his own. “Told him we would answer the rest tomorrow after I got really drunk. He’s probably coming up with more now that he has the lube.”

MJ: "We didn't not tell him what we were doin'," he felt the need to remind.

Abel: “We gave him a general idea. He’s a detail kinda guy, an exhaustive detail kinda guy. We basically went to Disneyland and didn’t take him, he’s curious.”

MJ: "Wonder where the fuck that comes from." A quick look back to his clothes before remembering he was fresh out of cigarettes. He missed pot. Alcohol was also acceptable, but he had no intention to bite either of them if offered. Teasing was one thing.

"He'd probably want a piece of your hair, too."

Pete/Abel: “This is the same man who breaks into places for fun. He likes to get into locked places and learn their secrets.”

Pete downed half his margarita and hummed thoughtfully. “So he’s a cat.”

MJ: "Ya know, if he were any animal... I imagine, like... a German shepherd, or Doberman. Somethin' overly groomed n'got that stance at dog shows."

Pete/Abel: “A show dog with the curiosity of a cat.”

“I’d say Doberman for sure,” Abel said, nodding sagely. “They always look intimidating.”

MJ: "He doesn't scare me." Maybe he should have. The night of merge, it was not MJ's body curled in a corner, shivering and mumbling, awaiting for capture. It was a handful of salt and a determination to flee no matter the cost. A chapter in his life more surreal than memory could recount.

Abel: “Well of course he doesn’t. He loves you. Scary people don’t look scary to their families and friends.”

MJ: "Isn't that what God's supposed t'be?"

Abel: “Which one?” Abel asked around a handful of goldfish.

MJ: "Respect is fear or some shit."

Pete: Pete shook his head. “They’re not. Fearing someone and respecting them are two different things but there are always people who think they’re one and the same.”

MJ: "Depends on the person. Not the one lookin', but the one they're lookin' at." He thoughtfully stared at the half-empty blood bag.

Abel: Abel shook his head. “This is too deep a conversation after the night we’ve had. We need more booze.”

MJ: "Right. So how 'bout them Knicks?"

Pete/Abel: “Which sport do they play?”

Pete chuckled. “Basketball.”

“Ah, the tall sport!”

MJ: "Yeah. The that," he laughed.

Pete/Abel: “Either of you ever play?”

“Nope.” Pete shook his head. “I play soccer.”

MJ: "Baseball."

Abel: “Look at you two, so athletic.” Abel mixed another round of margaritas, refilled their cups. “That must be why Xavier gets you that primo Olympian blood.”

MJ: "Never gonna be an athlete." It was a nice gesture, though. "Just get t'keep the body of it."

Abel: “And you don’t have to be sweaty and sore! That’s gotta be a nice bonus. Speaking of, are you still hungry? I’ve got more Isabel.”

MJ: "She a fuckin' mummy now? How much did ya take?"

Abel: “Nah, she’s fine. Did you see that the bag is smaller than normal? She gave a couple small ones, not two normal size ones.”

MJ: "All this for the kid?"

Abel: “All the nice girls like an Indiana Jones type.”

MJ: "Just wait 'til she hears 'bout Peter."

Pete/Abel: “I’m an Indiana Jones type now?”

Abel clapped him on the back. “Of course you are! Sure you can’t ever tell anyone and have them buy you drinks because of it but it still counts.”

MJ: "I'll buy ya a drink," he grinned.

Pete: Pete grinned right back. “Imma hold you to that. Getting covered in Umbra slime’s gotta be worth something.”

MJ: "Your real prize is a job well done," he laughed.

Pete/Abel: "You're absolutely right. Slime's a small price to pay for getting that kid back safely. With any luck he's not horribly scarred for life."

Abel shook his head. "Don't worry, Petey. Chances are if he does remember and does tell someone, they won't believe him. They'll chalk it up to a nightmare or to trauma, like humans always do, and if he hears it enough he'll start to believe it."

MJ: "That's how it goes," sighed MJ. "For their own good." For the most part, he believed that. More than he had initially. He didn't care to dwell on the why.

Pete: "In this case, I'd say that's the best case scenario," Pete sighed. "What we managed to see was horrible. Imagine what he saw before we got there."

MJ: "Well I can't. Y'all won't tell me."

Pete: "Did you miss the part where Abel told you about the sentient tree and having to cut off Guildias' arm?"

MJ: "I want the juicy details, goddammit."

Abel: "They're such gross details," said Abel, making a face. "I used to hunt with my dad, I can prep an elk or a bird but a person? That was fucked up."

MJ: "It's Guildias though. Bet he didn't even whimper."

Abel: "I don't fucking know how he managed to stay quiet. I know he wanted to scream. Man's got an iron will."

MJ: "Could the tree, ya know, hear y'all?"

Pete: Pete nodded. "Yeah. It could talk too, in some weird tree language that barely sounded like a language."

MJ: "Did y'all fight a fuckin' Ent?"

Abel: Abel shook his head. “It didn’t move around or have a face. It was rooted to one spot like a normal tree and the creepy roots extended everywhere.”

MJ: "Mmkay. Scratch one off of Ent." Another sip of sweet-metallic vitae, staring out across the river.

"I think we've earned a four-day weekend."

Pete/Abel: Pete polished off his second margarita. “I also wouldn’t call it much of a fight. Guildias distracted it and I just moved fast.”

“We have,” said Abel. “We’re starting on it right now.”

MJ: "Could it have gone without Guildias loppin' an arm off?"

Pete: They both shook their heads but it was Pete who said, “I don’t see how. We didn’t have any bargaining chips.”

MJ: "That bad, huh? Shit..."

Abel: Abel shrugged. “Maybe we would’ve had a chance under different circumstances but the tree was getting ready to kill the kid. We didn’t have time to think up an alternative, and we weren’t armed for a sentient tree.”

MJ: "I'll keep that in mind for the next Umbral mission." He watched the two of them a moment, suddenly taken by gratitude to find them in one piece.

Abel: "I am not getting covered in lube again unless it's for a damn good reason," said Abel, mixing yet another round of margaritas. "We need to find a rescue mission in like...Hawaii."

MJ: "I ain't ever been," MJ said. "Ain't crossed my mind."

Abel: "We should go! Petey and I will drink rum out a coconut and you can drink blood out of a coconut and we'll all sit on the beach for days on end doing nothing."

MJ: "Y'all do days, I'll do nights. But coconuts yes. N'Peter can get lost in the mountains on the full moon."

Pete: Pete snorted. "Or we could go when it's not a full moon. All that fur in that heat? I'd spend the full moon hiding in the ocean."

MJ: MJ looked to Abel. "Know any were-peeps Peter can hang out with on the full moon?"

Abel: "In Hawaii? No. But I can hang out with Pete on the full moon."

MJ: "You're hardly a were-anything."

Abel: “Neither is Callum and he hangs out with Pete on the full moon. It’s about companionship.”

MJ: "How d'ya know so much?"

Pete: “I told him,” Pete chimed in, devouring a handful of Goldfish. “We had time to talk before ya’ll came to pick us up.”

MJ: "A shit ton." Apparently.

Abel: “We talk fast,” Abel said cheerfully. “We needed to bond. Plus ya’ll took forever.”

MJ: "I like that." He wasn't surprised; this was Abel, after all. The man befriended a snake just because he could.

"I don't think I've ever heard ya talk fast," he smiled at Peter.

Pete/Abel: Pete chuckled. “I usually don’t. Didn’t think I could. I blame Abel, I was just trying to keep up.”

“Very few can.” Abel poured them another round and toasted Pete with his. “Here’s to you, Petey. L’chaim.”

MJ: "Ya've joined the club. Welcome. We don't have tee shirts or hats; we got loyalty and free arguments."

Pete/Abel: “I’ll take both.” He clicked solo cups with Abel and downed the contents. The world was beginning to take on a very pleasant haze. His head had started to feel lighter, more floaty. The perfect place to be after the night they’d had.

“What if we got T-shirts? Everyone lives a T-shirt.”

Abel nodded. “They do.”

MJ: "Shirts just for us, or the whole crew?" He couldn't imagine Rosmond wearing one, nor Guildias for that matter.

Pete: “For everyone!” Pete said cheerfully. “I’d pay good money to see Guildias in a T-shirt.”

MJ: "Ya'd know more than me at this point. I ain't seen it."

Pete: “I bet Cal’s seen him in a T-shirt since they’re married.”

MJ: "I don't think 'bout that shit." Not for some years now. Didn't seem fair to even consider.

Pete/Abel: Pete giggled to himself imagining Guildias in something as casual as a T-shirt. It seemed way too normal a thing for Mr. GQ.

“Oooh! I know what we should put on the shirts!” Abel announced. “How about, ‘I went to the Umbra and all I got was lube and this lousy T-shirt’?”

MJ: "Ha. Hell yeah. Xavier'll have t'wait for the next mission, then. He ain't gettin' shit this time."

Abel: Abel snorted. “There’s a man who would never wear a T-shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in any shirt without buttons and a collar.”

MJ: "I think s'time we steal his clothes."

Pete/Abel: He gave a dramatic gasp. “That’s so sneaky! He’d be so pissed,” Abel laughed. “We should steal everything and only leave him the T-shirt, some jeans, and tennis shoes so he has no choice but to wear it.”

Pete snorted. “Or he’ll just be naked until ya’ll give them back.”

MJ: "Wouldn't put it past him t'just walk 'round naked. He'd make some artistic excuse for it. Pretend the clothes aren't missin'."

Abel: “Or, or!” Abel laughed again. “He’d make us go suit shopping with him as punishment and stick you in another tie.”

MJ: "He'd still have t'walk 'round in a tee shirt. Worth the punishment."

Pete/Abel: “Say the word and we’ll raid his closet.”

Pete turned his attention toward the hot fries. “What if ya’ll just ask him to wear it? Pretty please with extra sugar on top?”

Abel waved the notion away. “That’s not nearly as chaotic and potentially hilarious.”

MJ: "Nah. Fuck that," MJ laughed, overlapping Abel's retort. "Gotta make your own fun, man!"

Abel: “Exactly! And trust me, this is going to be a lot of fun. Oh, we can’t forget his robes,” Abel added to MJ. “He’s got a bunch and if he doesn’t have his clothes he’ll try to just wear those. Should we also steal his underwear and make him wear American flag boxers?”

MJ: "Oh fuck, you're right. I'll get the boxers. Walmart's on the city limits."

Peter was given a grin. "Want a way-too expensive robe?"

Pete/Abel: Pete snorted and just decided to roll with it. He'd blame the tequila, which he was just drinking in shots now. "Why the hell not. Take his socks, too. Walmart's got novelty socks."

Abel's face lit up. "Yes!"

MJ: "Ain't there a shop here that got em? Ones that say, 'fuck this shit'?"

Pete: Pete nodded. “Yep, that gift shop on the way out of town.”

MJ: "Let's go tomorrow. Oh! Ya know, Guildias'll be next."

Pete: “You’re gonna steal poor armless Guildias’ clothes?” Pete chuckled.

MJ: "Maybe talk Callum into it - when he's, ya know, whole."

Pete: “We might be able to get him to get Guildias to wear a T-shirt. Stealing his clothes not so much.”

MJ: "Maybe m'just in a stealin' mood."

Abel: Abel shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. “You can help Devlin steal cookies from the kitchen when Christine isn’t looking. Or break into a fancy museum with Xavier.”

MJ: "Both. I'll do both. Maybe the underwear at Walmart, too."

Pete: Pete squinted. "I feel like I should be discouraging this, but Walmart's a giant corporation, so..." He shrugged and downed more tequila.

MJ: "Now you're gettin' it," MJ chuckled into his bag of blood.

Pete: "I'll scold you tomorrow if I remember. Gotta keep up them good and righteous publican appearances."

MJ: "Good n'righteous I guess is your MO now. Maybe it always was, but ya ain't punchin' people anymore."

Pete: "Got lectured by the law. Then the law's boss. I still punch people though. Aren't enough lectures in all the world to keep assholes from being assholes."

MJ: "Was wonderin' when ya were gonna get canned."

Pete: “Last time I got close was when I got the lecture. Around here it’s considered a miracle that I don’t have a lengthy rap sheet and a couple lawsuits under my belt.”

MJ: "S'part of your charm! I fell for it," he winked.

Pete: Pete laughed. "Next time there's an asshole in the pub, I'll call you before I punch their lights out."

MJ: "Hell yeah. So sexy." A glance was given to Abel, his smile fading a bit at the link between Abel and a certain witch in California. His mind wasn't made up one way or another, but little reminders tickled an annoying sense of guilt behind his neck.

"Y'all ready t'go home?"

Pete/Abel: Abel was just gonna keep eating his chips and let them flirt. Any opinions he had in any particular direction about any particular situation would be kept to himself.

Pete nodded after taking another drink. "Yeah, we probably should. Still gotta shower, and work tomorrow. Or...later today. Is it today?"

Abel nodded. "Yep, it's today."

MJ: "Let's get ya home, then. Ya damn near drank a whole bottle. I mean ya earned it, but s'way past your bedtime, old man."

Pete: Pete’s dramatically offended gasp lost some of its effectiveness when he just barely avoided falling into the river as he staggered to his feet.

“I am a great and mighty bear! Bedtimes are the stuff of mere mortals!”

MJ: "Mighty bear gonna go down river if he keeps stumblin'." MJ got to his feet and began gathering Peter's things. Offered his hand to keep the bear upright.

Pete/Abel: Pete laughed again, taking MJ’s hand. “Thanks very much. Been a loooong time since I had that much tequila. Come on, Abel!”

“Yep, I’m here, I’m up.” He took the hand that Pete offered and smiled at all of them. “Look at us, a drunken daisy chain and a sober vampire. Onward to Petey’s! Petey, be a champ and try not to hurl, okay?”

“Copy that.”

MJ: MJ watched. Didn't think to look back if they'd gathered every bit of trash. Callum could yell at them later. Probably would, given Guildias' condition. Right now, Peter was the only priority.

"Want us t'stay?"

Pete/Abel: “Yeah, stay! I have blackout shades and stuff to make French toast for breakfast.”

“Sold!” Abel said cheerfully. “Okay, everyone gird your loins.”

He did some girding of his own, making sure he was steady before transporting them to Pete’s.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The Batfamily TV show I wish existed but that will most likely never be (wecanhopethough) :

I’ve been fantasazing a LOT lately about a Batfam centric tv show. Not a story just about Bruce and then the kids are somewhere in the background, or just about one of the kid, or one character of the “extended family”. Nope. A TV show, that would focus on everyone. And here’s a few of my thoughts haha :

We’ve seen enough of times Bruce’s parents murder so no need to have a scene of that again. Even people who never read a Batman comics or watch a movie/animated show, sort-of know how he ended up being Batman ya know ? It kinda became a trope, a classic scene, to see little eight year old Bruce screaming above his parents’ bodies, in an empty alley...We really don’t need to see yet another one of those. We all know the story. And for those who are not up to date, there will be hints of what happened dropped all through the show. Because it’s still about Batman.

The Robins and all though, often people don’t even know there’s more than one Robin ? Or at least don’t know how many there are really...So here how I would love for the show to start/be : 

The first few episodes would only be about ONE kid, and ONE “extended family member” (Like Babs, ya know ?). My absolute biggest dream would be to have the ENTIRE Batfam represented (or most, there’s some members from alternate timelines/world that I’m not sure would appear...or maybe just as a cameo ?), and each of them would have their moments, and be just as important as the other. My perfect Batfam TV show would portray how they are all linked, how they’re a family (albeit not always a very functional one) So. Here we are. Longer episodes than normal shows,more mini-series sort of things than the traditional 40 minutes episodes. I think an hour would be a good timeframe, at least for the “origin story” episode...so, yeah, longer-than-usual episodes about all the origins of the kids and all.

First episode start with Dick coming in young Bruce Wayne’s life. We quickly understand that Bruce just came back after years away from Gotham (and that it was to train to become Batman). He’s been back for less than a year, and already started to be a night vigilante...And here he comes. Little Richard Grayson. A boy in which Bruce sees himself a lot (because of the way he lost his parents). And so Bruce makes the crazy decision to adopt the kid (yeah yeah I know “ward”), and it literally changes the way he lives. And boom, Dick’s origin story. Maybe a little shenanigans across the Manor. Dick’s difficulty to adapt to living with Bruce now, and not having his parents. Showing how he can get so angry at times ! And how he isn’t just that jolly little boy who jokes around and hugs everyone he sees ? Basically, an episode that could show every faces of Dick Grayson. Because he deserves to have a show where an entire episode is JUST FOR HIM, and how he is.

Second episode would be Barbara Gordon’s introduction. Pretty straight forward. Who she is, daughter of who, how she came to become Batgirl. Her close relationship with the Batman and his sidekick(s). Showing all the dimension of Babs, her intelligence and such. She isn’t just “a badass girl” (she’d only be a girl at the beginning), but an extremely intelligent one who’s able to turn situations around that look desperate, thanks to her analytic brain etc etc. She’s essential in a lot of Batman stories.

Third episode would be Jason’s arrival. Completely different from Dick’s. the episode would focus on the few years he has with Bruce, and where he comes from. How Jason hasn’t always been “the rebel of the family” (and how actually Dick has that role more than any of his brothers really...in this episode, probably there will be a quick mention of how the “previous Robin” is sort of a taboo subject because he left Gotham to go with the Teen Titans and Bruce is still not over it...). How he’s actually really sweet, and so SO happy to be Robin, and finally have someone that cares ? Which will explain why he became Red Hood later on...The episode would end on his death.

Fourth episode would start with Bruce being depressed, still not over Jason’s death. It would show how he became even more violent, which he has fights about with Dick...At the same time, Dick came back to Gotham as Nightwing after Jason’s death to still be there as a support for Bruce. Dick is always there when his friends or family members need his help...Doesn’t mean they don’t fight though. Bruce is even tougher to get through to than he used to. Jason’s death really hardened him further, the guilt not helping, of course. And then...Here enters little Timothy Drake. “Hey, I know you’re Batman !” he tells him, smiling widely...A few of his (baby) teeth are missing, that’s how young he is. The episode would be about how Bruce refuses to take Tim in as first (even more so since Tim’s parents are still alive by then), and would show their relationship evolves, all the way up to Bruce officially adopting Timbo.

Fifth episode : Hey is that Stephanie Brown we see ? Yup it iiiiiis !! Her story. Her background. What’s up with her. This episode is all about her. How she’s an important part of Bruce’s life, however isn’t one of his adoptive kid (it would be weird anyway...it would mean she ends up dating her own brother...). I always viewed Steph’ as an important member of the “Batfam”, but not as one of Bruce’s kid ? Like, she’s most definitely cared for and loved, but she doesn’t permanently live at Wayne Manor, and isn’t officially his ward or adopted kid etc etc...Doesn’t mean she isn’t included and not sort-of-family ! But, ya know what I mean, extremely close friends can be family too (remember : this is only MY opinion and how I view the characters after I read comics with them, you can totally disagree...in that case do it nicely, please).

Sixth Episode would be Cassandra’s. Bruce is fighting against her father, and that’s when he finds that young girl that appears mute, and that just killed a few men in front of him. He learns of her story, how her father tried to turn her into a weapon since she was born, via some audio recordings he found in one of his hideout. And he feels utterly disarmed. What is he supposed to do ? He can’t let such a dangerous person out, at the same time, she looks so young...And it’s not quite her fault, according to the recordings...He can’t just leave her there, but he’s also sure that locking her up would do more harm than anything else. So he takes her in. Ensues the beginning of Cass’ evolution (the rest will be in other episodes).

Seventh episode would be the one where Bruce discovers that Jason is still alive, and that he HATES HIM. Fighty fights fight...Oh shit it’s my son. Flashback of how Jason got resurrected and his short time with the Al’Ghuls, and a little speech about why he hates Bruce so much. Very “Under the Red Hood”, I guess. Ends with a heartbroken Bruce, and an even angrier Jason (because he saw Tim and Cass and can’t believe Bruce still enrolls kids to be his little “child soldier”...of course, it’s more complicated than that).

Eighth episode, Damian’s dramatic entrance. “I thought you’d be taller”. He tries to fight every single one of his siblings (that he most definitely not consider as such yet) (and yes I’m including Cass because I want her to be part of it all...), and it’s obvious they let him win. Sure, the kid trained since he was born...But they’re all pretty old now, and trained by the Batman too. Damian couldn't overpower them that easily (yeah it’s a canon thing I’m not a fan of...). In any case, Damian’s first few days in the family are tough af...

Then after all those origin stories, a lot would happen before Duke’s episode finally comes (because he appears quite late in the Batfam). So an explanation about how he came to get in, what happened to his parents, etc etc. An episode about Duke ! He might come in only like, in a later season (again he comes really late into everything, although he appears before). But when he comes in, Damian is less of a brat now, and considers everyone his family etc etc.

I know there’s a lot more people that are friendly with the Batfam (like Luke Fox and all) HOWEVER, I wanna talk about the “core” Batfam, Bruce and the kids and all. Family. Now of course, Kate Kane would appear. Maybe have her own part of an episode about how at first she decides to become Batwoman of her own volition and isn’t even affiliated with Bruce. Her story at her military school. Why she decided to get into this business etc etc...Probably things about Jim Gordon too. Oh, and the villains ! But really, only full episodes about the ones that are really...family. Like, Kate is Bruce’s cousin and all, but...they always kinda had their own things going on. Now as I said, she’ll appear, but you know what I mean. Basically, allies and friends will most definitely appear, but they won’t all have a full episodes about them ? Maybe a story revolving around them, and therefor we learn the essentials. Also, lil introductions to all the pets the Batfam has (of course we’d have Batcow, Titus, Ace and other Alfred the Cat hehe). 

The narrator would be Alfred Pennyworth, because he’s the one constant in every story. He’s always there (or almost). First episode would start with Bruce as a little boy, after his parents’ death, training around the house, and then as the episodes unfold, more and more members appear, training with him (opening credits).

We’d just have episodes about their domestic life AND their detective life. A perfect mix of both World. And after all those introduction episodes, that would be all interesting because we all know those peeps have some wild backgrounds, then the audience would know everyone ! Now, it’s a lot of characters, so, once they’re all introduced, they don’t need to always appear. There would be episodes of all of them together, and sometimes of just two of them bonding over whatever ? Like, Dick and Jason. Tim and Damian. Etc etc.

And every episodes would talk about all the different facets of their personalities, and not only focus on stereotypes (like it’s often the case :/). Like, NONE OF THEM are one-dimensional characters. So, let’s show that Bruce is a caring man but also a total jerk sometimes, that Dick is the “carefree” one but also the “angry Robin” more than Jason is, that Jason isn’t just a killing machine and a rebel, but also very sweet. That Tim isn't just that coffee addict boy who never sleeps, but a selfless man who’s in it because he thinks he does the right thing. That Damian isn’t just a brat who hates everyone, but tries really hard to better himself and is actually extremely scared of becoming like the Al Ghuls and turning bad etc etc...Show their complex personalities, and not just boring and lazy cliches. 

Are you starting to see why this show would be impossible to exist, wether live action or animated ? Haha yeah, it’d be like, 300 seasons long hahahaha. Because there’s so much material ! ...But I’m pretty sure so many of us fans would watch every single episodes.

PS : This is an “adaption” I imagined, so of course not every subtlety about everyone are in the short synopsis of their episodes I gave, and there would be much more than that. And some aspect of the stories are switched a little. And it’s only snippets, small portions. My idea would be much more worked on. I just wanted to share the little things I thought about ^^. '