#it was hard and y'all are looking at it through rose colored glasses

[lonelybitchversion]

saw someone go full conspiracy theory to try and link that watch to rep tv. you will never experience the first reputation release. mourn that but don't go crazy

[likeshipsonthesea]

I love your recent posts about Eddie and Shannon and their relationship. I just don’t see how the show can address any of that with the way they’ve written this arc. There’s no one who can criticise Eddie’s feelings of ‘she was the love of my life, I’m broken without her’ except us the audience. There are no characters who saw their relationship as it actually was, so how can the show steer Eddie in that direction? I feel like they’re gonna leave it as she’s his Great Dead Love and that’s that

i see what you mean, and tbh i'm not sure what the show is going to do with this arc on-screen. they have a bunch of storylines to tie up in this finale episode (here's hoping we don't get any cliffhangers 🤞) and i don't know how much time they will have to devote to eddie, or even what they want to do with that time. it's possible they have a completely different perspective on this and will take it a whole other way, but i have faith that the show will tell the story they want to tell and, if the past six seasons are any indication, i will enjoy that story

all that being said, if we're talking dream arc, this is what i would want

as far as who can tell eddie "hey, you're looking at your marriage with rose-colored glasses, this is how it actually is," i've got two ideas for this. one is eddie himself, and the second is his parents, specifically helena, who has been rumored to be in the s7 finale. i'm kinda more excited about the second, so let's get the first one out of the way

eddie himself - hopefully after the clusterfuck that is explaining to his son that he's been seeing a dead ringer for his dead mom and she cosplayed as mommy to give eddie closure, eddie will talk about this in therapy, and through the skills he's learned and a frank discussion (pun intended) he will be forced to confront the reality of his marriage and start to address the trauma he has from everything with shannon

p cut and dry, my typical eddie-goes-to-therapy kinda story. we've all been here before.

now, for the good stuff 😈 (putting this under a read-more bc i have Thoughts)

helena. the diaz mother we all know and have complicated feelings over. or not-so-complicated feelings over, given the "don't drag [chris] down with you" line. i know i keep asking y'all to think of things from the white woman's perspective, but bear with me just one moment while i do this again

helena married into a large mexican family in the 80s. she had a mother in law whose cooking was renowned, a husband always away on business, and three children to bring up along with keeping her home together. given how everyone in their family seemed to treat shannon, i'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume there were some heavy expectations on helena to be the wife everyone thought ramon deserved, and i'm gonna assume that meant a lot of tradition--cooking the right things, doing the holidays the right way, teaching the kids the right values, etc. etc.

i think it was hard. i think helena didn't always meet the expectations put on her. i know it was played as a joke, but during ramon's retirement party, eddie and pepa were concerned that helena was cooking a specific dish (i can't remember which one atm) until abuela assured them she was in charge of it. meaning this is probably a running joke, helena not cooking things as well as she ought to.

also, raising three kids with a physically absent husband in a town that (i'm assuming) is full of in-laws seems hard to me, too. (if this is sounding familiar, yes i'm about to make a shannon comparison just gimme another second). the stories we hear about eddie as a kid are yes, reflections of traditional masculinity and eddie falling short of that, but also reflections on his parenting--how could helena let her son try to cook? that should be her job, she should be watching him! how could she let him try to drive at 8? tsk tsk and all that

i think helena has become a part of the diaz family fully, but i don't think it was always easy, and i think when her son married a white woman who didn't fit the expectations of a diaz wife either, helena recognized that. i think helena saw herself in shannon so clearly.

and instead of breaking the cycle and offering shannon that support and empathy that shannon (and young helena) needed, helena enforced those expectations even harsher. helena did it, so shannon had to, too.

maybe it was out of protection--she wanted shannon to fit into the family the way helena had learned to. maybe it was common generational sentiment, i.e. it's the Right way or it's the way I did it so therefore you have to do it that way, too. maybe it was a means of reinforcing her own place in the family, as she was no longer the newbie, shannon was.

whatever it was, i don't think she was conscious of it, and especially after shannon left her son, helena refused to acknowledge she was anything like shannon at all.

until now.

(yes i've found my way back to the point, i usually do i promise--and yes my adhd meds are THRIVING rn)

both helena's husband and son have done a lot of emotional work in the recent years and i think it's likely she would take a queue from them (and if her daughters are anything like me, i'm sure they're trying to nudge her towards a therapist at every turn). helena very well may be in a place where she can acknowledge how the expectations she's lived under may have been stifling, and given her son's recent encounter with kim, she very well may be in a place to acknowledge how similar shannon was to her.

and that's where, dear anon, your point comes in.

because helena was there for shannon and eddie's entire marriage. ramon was working, eddie was in the war, abuela and pepa were in la, but helena was right down the street (idk if she was actually right down the street but you know what i mean). helena knew shannon as an 18-20yo woman, as a new mother, as a struggling mother. she was in the unique position of watching shannon go through a marriage alone and remembering exactly how that felt.

kim may look like shannon, but she has no idea how shannon felt during her marriage. eddie can say all the things he wants to say, but it's like talking to a gravestone. i think helena can say the things eddie needs to hear, even if he may not want to hear them.

....and now i really wanna write that conversation. fuck.

[goodolme]

Leo x FEM!reader who has an abusive bf? And Leo is just so concerned and keeps telling reader that they need to break up, but readers excuse everytime is "he loves me."

It's until the 'incident' that reader finally saw how bad her relationship is.

Overall, Leo is just like "if he truly loved you like I do, you wouldn't be crying." (Btw if your not okay with FEM reader or not comfortable with this request then you can igore it!).

-noodle 🍜

♡ ''he loves me'' ♡

Pairing: Rise!Leo x Reader (could be taken as romantic or platonic really)

Pronouns: Requested as Female but none used.

Warnings: Abusive relationships; mentions of violence and swearing.

Notes: Not proofread nor checked for mistakes so sorry if you spot one. I'll probably correct it when I can.

I wanted this to have a confession but fir some reason I didn't give it one so..... I hope you like it...?

Y'all know that I don't only write for Leo right. But don't worry I'm more than greatful to recieve requests non the less.

Dude at this point this is more of a one-shot idk man I can't write properly.

Masterlist

He was your first love. Or at least you thought you loved him.

No one had treated you the way he did and you just fell for it. You fell hard.

But that facade was completely gone once you two started getting intimate.

He would start being more controlling.

He would control how you looked, what you wore a d even who you spoke to.

He knew all your passwords so there wasn't really any use in trying to text anyone.

But you were too blind to see the signs. You looked at your world with rose tainted glasses and you didn’t realize it was hurting you.

Your friends didn't think much of it at first. Thay thought "Hey it's exam season, maybe they're buissy."

But Leo picked up on what was happening. And he didn't like it one bit.

He tried to make you snap out of it and make you realize that the guy you were with was not good for you. That it was toxic.

You didn’t listen to him. You were too blinded by "Love" as you called it.

Every time Leo would try and make you see what was going on you would just respond:

"But he loves me. He doesn't do it with bad intent, he's just trying to protect me."

That eventually lead to you and Leo getting into a fight one night.

"Why do you hate him?"

"Because he's bad for you."

"He's not bad!"

"Yes he is!"

"Mention one bad thing he did to me"

"Um I don't know; maybe the fact that he controls what you wear. Or what you eat. Oh and what about the fact that we bearly see you anymore! The only way to get in touch with you is literally climbing up your window!"

"He's just trying to protect m-"

"Don't say that. You always say that."

"He loves-"

"No he doesn't!"

"FUCK YOU LEO!"

You hadn't spoken to Leo from that moment on.

At least untill "The incident".

Your boyfriend had never layed a hand on you up to this point.

It started with a stupid fight about what you two should eat that night and it somehow escalated into one about the nature of your relationship.

You had enough and got away from that building as fast as you could. If course you boyfrind screaming after you. But he didn't chase you. He didn't care enough.

You ended up sitting on a bench of a near by park.

"Are you ok?"

It was Leo. You didn’t know how he knew where you were but you were glad to see a familiar face in such a moment as this.

You liubged forward to hug him as tight as you as your body let you.

You two talked about what had happened just moments before between your boyfrind and yourself.

The two of you ended apologizing to each other.

"You know, it's funny;" He looked at you confused. "when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags." You laughed slightly, with tears running down your face even after all the crying you had previously done.

Leo gave your arms a tight sqeeze reasuring you.

"Let's get to the lair and patch you up huh?"

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie​​ Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo​ she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it  quickly then knotting the fabric.  

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

[strandedcrow]

thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?���,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can’t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

[talkingtea]

Lmao, why are I/WA fans so dumb and hateful? All the abilities Barry had in 7x02 was to show how dysfunctional and artificial his intelligence was getting as a result of artificial speed force. That's not how he's going to allow himself to be, he made it very clear by destroying the ASF when he looked around the room and saw what he did to the people he loves. Spock Barry is someone no one wants him to become, not even himself. Do y'all really watch the show ??? Coz you really missed the whole point of the episode. And WA fans keep saying team flash needs to go when the truth is, you ONLY have problem with Caitlin/frost being a part of it. You don't want Caitlin/Frost/Danielle to be in the team or anywhere near Barry/Flash/Grant. WA's are so pathetic.

First of all Caitlin/Killer Frost/Frost and whoever else she chooses to be is fucking useless. Period. No she shouldn’t be on the team. In fact she should have stopped being on the team back in season 3 when she tried to kill everyone on it. So she can fuck all the way off and take all the idiots who think she brings any type of value to the show with her.

Secondly we’re well aware of the INTENT of the storyline, however, what they actually achieved was proving that if Barry is too smart or too capable then he can solve problems, make decisions and fight without the team. Ergo, he doesn’t need them. And talk shit about Westallen all you want but the ONLY one capable of getting through to Barry was Iris. That not conjecture, or looking through rose-colored glasses, that’s a fact. A cold, hard, supported by canon fact. Who he needs is her. Just her. Not Cisco, not Caitlin, not Allegra, not Chester nor the 57th version of Wells.

So, in conclusion, fuck Team Flash.

[the-starless-sky]

cozmez x Akan Yatsura / “FAMILY” voice drama track 2

Part 1 | Listen through Spotify.

Reo: And? You woke up this morning and he's gone? Aren't you overreacting~?

Hokusai: It's still only afternoon...

Satsuki: Ain't he just gone to the convenience store or something? And went to the game center when he's at itー

Kanata: Haah!?

Satsuki: Don't get riled up at that!

Kanata: Nayuta won't ever do something like that! He's never went out without saying anything to me... and I can't get a hold of him too...

Satsuki, Reo & Hokusai: ...

Iori: D'ya have... an idea as to why he disappeared?

Zen: Waka...!

Kanata: Last night, we had a fight...

Satsuki: What the heck, so it was a fight.

Reo: Aah, so maybe 'cause of that he felt it hard to see you face to face? I know that feel, you guys are siblings after all!

Hokusai: Really...?

Zen: What did you guys fought about? If it's alright with you, would you please tell us?

Kanata: He told me... to go out. He told me to go out more, and meet more people. He said that'd make me stronger.

Zen: I see.

Kanata: But I don't need that...! I only need Nayuta. Even so, he...

Iori: But it doesn't seem like s'all it was.

Kanata: ...!

Iori: To ask for my help 'til ya bow yer head, something ya've never done, means there's 'nother reason, right?

Kanata: Sometime ago, right at the time we got the Paradox Live invitation, I was attacked in town. There were three of them, punks targeting my phantometal.

AKYR: Oh...

Kanata: 'Cause they were trying to lay their hands on Nayuta, I beat them to a pulp.

Satsuki: Seriously!? You're kinda strong even though you're lanky, huh!

Reo: Monkey, you're noisy.

Hokusai: Kanata, what happened next?

Kanata: That time, they probably remembered my face. If they found Nayuta when he's alone...!

Reo: You guys have the same face, so if they misunderstood, it wont be pretty...

Hokusai: Dangerous...!

Zen: I see. So that's why you came to our place.

Kanata: This kind of thing... I know that I'm not in the place to rely on you, but...!

Iori: Aight! We should help each other in times of need. Got it, y'all?

Satsuki: Yeah!

Reo: Can't be helped~! I'll help you.

Hokusai: I'll find Nayuta. I'm good at finding lost cats.

Zen: Then, let's immediately divide the work. Waka and I will stand by here. We'll gather information. Everyone else go out to town, and search.

Iori: Ooh~! Ya look the part, don'tcha, Zen~! Ya look like those police detectives on TV dramas!

Zen: Please don't poke fun at me.

Iori: OK. Sorry.

Zen: Cough. Just in case, the search team is to move in groups of two. Decide the assignment of area and get in contact as appropriate.

Reo: OK~! Then, I'm grouping with Hokusai~

Hokusai: Understood.

Satsuki: Then, Kanata's with me.

Kanata: Y-yeah...

Satsuki: Be at ease! With this Gaia-sama, fearful enough to silence a crying child, we'll find one, even two little brothers in no time!

Kanata: Y-yeah...

Zen: If something happens, immediately get in touch and wait for reinforcement. Don't force yourselves.

Reo: Roger!

Iori: Aight, let's go all out!

Everyone: Yeah!!

_

(Sounds of train passing.)

Reo: Aah, I'm tired~~! Jeez~ We've been walking around all day, my legs feel like lead!

Satsuki: You've got no stamina at all.

Reo: I mean, to top it off, Hokusai tried to ask cats...

Hokusai: If only I can speak cat language...

Reo: Kanata, how's it on your end?

Kanata: We've got nothing. We couldn't trace his steps after he got out of the apartment...

(Hokusai picks up a call.)

Hokusai: Yeah... yeah... understood.

(Hokusai hangs up.)

Hokusai: From Zen... he said they didn't get any leads too.

Reo: Eeeeeh, seriousyl!? Zen-nii's an ex-police detective but he's no good at all!

Satsuki: Don't diss Zen-nii!

Hokusai: This area isn't Big Bro's territory, so...

Satsuki: But like, it's impossible to look around this much and get nothing at all.

Reo: Siiiiigh. Then, what do we do from now on?

Satsuki: We've got choice but to continue, don't we?

Hokusai: Yeah...

(Sounds of train passing.)

(Kanata stops walking.)

Kanata: Enough already.

Satsuki: Eh?

Kanata: Enough already. I'll search by myself from now.

Reo: Haa? What the heck are you saying?

Kanata: I said, I'll go search for him by myself. You guys don't have to do anything else. Sorry for getting you all mixed into this.

Satsuki: You...!!

(Satsuki grabs Kanata by the shirt.)

Satsuki: Don't look down on our chivalry!! [1] Nayuta is your family, ain't he!? Big Bro acknowledged that and agreed to help you. Just because we searched a little and couldn't find him, there's no way we'd just say 'yes, okay' and run with tails between our legs!

Reo: He's your one and only important little brother, isn't he!

Hokusai: We'll definitely... find him.

Kanata: Eh... but...

Satsuki: No fuckin' 'buts'!! You were searching desperately, lookin' like you're gonna die, didn't you? You got us in this far, don't pretend to be tough now!!

Reo: That's right, that's right! At times like this, you should just meekly depend on us! Right, Hokusai?

Hokusai: Yeah, that's right. It's okay to depend on us.

Kanata: ...

Reo: Hey... when you came to our place, you said you investigated the Suiseki group, right?

Kanata: Yeah...

Reo: Then, you knew about the raid, didn't you?

Kanata: Yeah, just the gist of it. I heard that in just one night, the group got utterly annihilated by something.

Reo: ...would've died.

Kanata: Eh?

Reo: Me... Satsuki, and Hokusai, too. That time, if our timing shifted even a second, all of us would've died.

Kanata: ...!

Reo: A deep red sea of blood... everyone died. I couldn't save anyone. Not the boss, not my comrades...

(Sound of crows cawing.)

Reo: That's why, at that time, I swore. That I wont lose my comrades, my family, ever again.

Satsuki: ...We're family.

Kanata: Family...

Satsuki: Yeah. For ordinary people, we might just be thugs, but for us, we're family. I was always like this since I was little. I get into fights quickly, and I can't study at all. Both my parents and my teachers all gave up on me - I didn't even go to elementary school properly.

Reo: Haha. Satsuki-chan's completely an elementary school graduate, after all.

Satsuki: Shut up. Everyday, everyday, I'm always pissed. If I hit others, they'd get scared. I feel refreshed, and thought I'd rise up with these fists. At that time, Big Bro took me in. Big Bro and my comrades taught me, who was abandoned by my parents because they thought I was uncontrollable - How to use chopsticks, how to eat fish, greetings, manners, and the right way to fight... patiently, they taught me, again and again, without ever giving up. Thats why I decided that they are my family. I don't care what others say. No matter how useless they are, I won't abandon them. That's what family is.

Reo: ...Me, too. I chose my own family. My blood related family has... how to say it? Broken up, and I haven't seen them for years. I don't want to see them, either. But it's not like I hate them or anything. Papa taught me hip hop, and Mama... see, she gave me this cute face, after all.

Satsuki: You gonna say that yourself?

Reo: But you see, my family... all thought that they're the most important. They make debts that Papa couldn't pay back, lots of things happened, and my family broke up. Aha, pathetic, right?

Hokusai: Reo...

Reo: Yeah.

Hokusai: There, there.

(Hokusai pats Reo's head.)

Reo: Haha, Hokusai's so nice... Unlike a certain shitty monkey.

Satsuki: Who the fuck would pat your head, disgusting!

Hokusai: Me, too. My father is in prison. We probably won't ever meet each other outside anymore, for life.

Kanata: Eh?

Hokusai: I'm the son of a criminal. When everyone knew of it, they all left me. Only animals don't look at me with rose-colored glasses. They always stay by my side. But, Big Bro and the others were different. They treat me as Masaki Hokusai, as a different person than my father. They told me to raise my head when we walk together. To them, I'm not a shameful person, because we're family.

Kanata: Family...

Satsuki: Yeah. We're not related by blood, though.

Reo: We didn't have any other choice but to choose our own family. But, Kanata, you have Nayuta, right?

Hokusai: You have to protect... your important family.

Satsuki: Yeah! Don't look down on elementary school graduate!

Reo: Waah~ how embarrasing!

Hokusai: Fufu...

Satsuki: Wh--, Hokusai, you too?

Nayuta: Kanata?

Kanata: ...! Nayuta!!

Nayuta: What are you doing in a place like that?

Kanata: What, you ask--

Satsuki: More importantly, where'd you appear from suddenly!?

Nayuta: Kanata... these guys are Akan Yatsura's...? What are you doing together?

Kanata: You idiot! We were looking for you!!

Nayuta: Eh? "Looking"?

Kanata: Where were you all this time!?

Nayuta: Where, you ask... um, I couldn't think of a good lyric, so I went out for a walk, and then I got lost, and I was tired so I took a nap somewhere, then... What did I do next?

Satsuki: Are you a stray cat!?

Hokusai: As I thought, I have to learn cat language...

Nayuta: Haha, what? What is it? Kanata, too, making such a scary face.

Kanata: Stop messing around! How worried did you think I was!!?

Nayuta: Eh?

Kanata: Saying "go by yourself", and disappearing...

Nayuta: Eh? What?

Reo: Kanata was worried that you got kidnapped by some punks.

Satsuki: He even bowed his head to us.

Hokusai: And searched for you desperately, you know?

Nayuta: Ooh... Seriously?

Kanata: Yeah...

Nayuta: No way... but...

Kanata: Quietly disappearing like that... I won't forgive you.

Nayuta: Kanata...

Kanata: I don't have anyone else but Nayuta. Nayuta's my only family. That's why, that's why... don't ever quietly disappear... don't ever...

Nayuta: Kanata... It's okay. I'm by your side. Always, whenever, I'm always by Kanata's side.

_

(Sounds of them walking.)

Kanata: ...Sorry. I got you all to walk around a full day and you guys even treated us to food.

Reo: It's okay, it's okay. We put the tab on Big Bro, after all!

Satsuki: Raimen-tei's soo yummy, right!? Honestly, I thought that cozmez's detestable bastards with cocky music and attitude, but we actually get along, don't we?

Hokusai: Haha. Then, we'll part here.

Reo: Starting from now on, we're rivals, okay?

Satsuki: Don't get into a fight, 'kay!?

Kanata: U-uhm!

Reo: Yeah?

Kanata: If, if you guys were lied to by Suise-- no, your family, what will you do?

Reo: Lie?

Kanata: Yeah. If kept an important thing secret.

Satsuki: Ha? That's no big deal, ain't it? Even though we're family, we'd still have one or two secrets we can't say.

Reo: Like the place where Satsuki-chan hides his favorite erotic magazines~

Satsuki: HAA!?

Reo: On the floor below the closet, it's obvious!

Satsuki: You bastard-

Kanata: Not something like that! For example, if it has something to do with your lives...

Satsuki, Reo & Hokusai: ...

Hokusai: Even so... no, if so, I'd believe them.

Kanata: Believe?

Hokusai: If so, it's kept a secret to protect us. A lie to protect your family. I won't doubt it.

Kanata: ...!

Satsuki: Yeah, that's right! I'm satisfied if I had to put my life on the line for Big Bro.

Reo: Me too, when I decided to follow Big Bro, I've prepared myself, after all.

Satsuki: Right? Don't look down on our chivalry!

Hokusai: Yeah.

Reo: Well, that's that, so...

Satsuki: See ya! The next time we meet, it'd be on the stage.

Hokusai: We won't lose.

Reo: Prepare yourselves, okay~?

(Satsuki, Reo & Hokusai walks away.)

Kanata: Ah.

Nayuta: What's wrong, Kanata?

Kanata: I missed the chance to say thank you to them.

Nayuta: Hahaha...

Kanata: What?

Nayuta: You made friends.

Kanata: Ha!?

Nayuta: It means, you have people other than me that you'd say 'thank you' to.

Kanata: That's...

Nayuta: Kanata. Kanata, you can change. You can get more, way stronger than you are now.

Kanata: That's why I said that's...

Nayuta: I'm with you. "If the two of us are together, we're the strongest", right?

Kanata: ...Yeah. If the two of us are together, we're the strongest.

_

Iori: That so? Good that y'all managed to find him. Yeah, good job.

(Iori hangs up.)

Zen: Did they find Nayuta-kun?

Iori: Yeah.

Zen: The only thing we can do is to watch over them. It feels kind of vexing, isn't it?

Iori: Yer right, but cozmez's a strong opponent. Can't let our guards down on the next live.

Zen: Of course, I will go all out! I have no intention to lose!

Iori: Yeah! Becoming of Akan Yatsura, let's go merrily an' flashily!

_

Notes

1] As in the spirit of helping the weak and fighting the strong, generosity, heroism - usually a term used by the yakuza.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Let’s Dance (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

A/N: Let's skip the pitchforks, I'm just going to go lie on broken glass of my own emotions. Although...y'all asked for this. (P.S. if someone can tell my incompetence how to add audio without it being a monstrously huge box, I’ll love you forever) Word Count: 1610 Content Warnings: references to death, serious illness, graphic descriptions of serious illness, HOLY FUCK SO MUCH SAD Now cross-posted to AO3: here

“Dance!” he called, shouting over the pounding base. “With me!”

His slight bow and his outstretched hand seemed out of place in the crowded club, red and blue lights flashing at seemingly random overhead. He teeth practically glowed in the steadier blacklights. Strobes reflected in his eyes, making his already manic expression seem even wilder.

The smart person would have said no.

You giggled, downing the rest of your drink and placing your fingers in his. With a tug, he pulled you to your feet and into the heart of the crowd. His hands found your hips pulling you flush against him. Your shirt rose up as you shimmied together and your heart thrummed when hot skin met feverish. The scope of the world seemed to narrow until it was just you and him and the music moving you, the rhythm helping you meld into one perfect, flowing being.

Somewhere, or rather somewhen, his lips were on yours and you breathed each other like air. He tasted of sweat and vodka and sugar, all raw and sharp and sinful.

You invited him back to your apartment. Maybe not in so many words, but you were beyond words now as you writhed and twined, bodies singing in a crescendo.

By morning, he was gone, and you were sure you would never see him again.

~

The radio crackled, a soft jazzy tune crooning through the room. It was the kind of song you could slow dance to in a kitchen with you lover in one of those perfect fairytale moments. Only this wasn’t a fairytale, you weren’t in your kitchen, and you certainly didn’t have a lover. You looked boredly around the hall from your metal folding chair, praying that the event would soon be over and you could leave.

“Hi,” someone said, sticking a hand in your face. “You look as miserable as I feel.”

“Your hand says ‘goodbye,’” you said bitterly. “You should listen to it and leave.”

“Or you could dance with me?”

The hand moved to be palm up in front of you, the man it was attached to bent slightly, the fur trim of his coat brushing against your foot as it bounced on your other knee. A thrill of recognition ran up your spine. You placed your fingers in his and let him pull you to your feet.

This time you were the only ones dancing, sweeping through the dusty church basement, earning disgruntled glares and confused laughter from the other mandated attendees of the charity event (you were supposed to be collecting and sorting donations for a rummage sale, but no one was bringing things and clearly none of you cared to be there). This time, when your bodies pressed together, it was an embrace. This time, you kissed him, a gentle kiss on the cheek to thank him for brightening your day when the song ended.

This time, as you emerged into the night, he was the one who invited you. Only it was less of an invitation and more of a plea.

“Come with me, stay with me. Love me,” he seemed to say, even though his words were just “I’m staying close by?”

And when his eyes shone the color of the cold Atlantic in the flickering street lights, just as sure to drown you, how could you refuse?

~

Days with Klaus stretched into weeks, into months, and suddenly it was going on two years sharing a cramped, shitty little apartment. Days with Klaus were more often nights, neither of you rising before 4pm if it could be avoided (and later, with you working your retail shift and waking him when you came home).

Some days glittered like stars and you danced. Some days you held him close as he tried to rattle himself apart, withdrawal or too strong a high equally capable of reducing him to a specter of tremors and sobs. Some days, he held you as cried, or more often simply stared out into a shadow world that only you could see, when the cruelties of the real one threatened to overwhelm you and you wanted nothing more than to sleep a dreamless sleep forever. Some days you screamed at each other, lungs burning with the intensity of your anger and your hurt. You thought about telling him to get out. You thought about begging him to never leave. You never said either one.

But most days, you just lived. Like any other young couple struggling to make ends meet and make their way in a world that couldn’t care less. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was yours, and you never wanted it to end.

And then it did.

You thought that the end of your relationship, when it came, would be brought on swift wings by an OD Klaus couldn’t come back from, or a proper prison sentence that you were too exhausted to wait for him through. You never thought it would be you.

At first you were just tired at night, you didn’t want to go out anymore, preferring a quiet night on the couch with your love. There was more watching, less doing. Dinner stopped turning into dancing.

You started to notice his fingerprints turning into bruises, even from the most gentle and reverent of touches.

You got so tired that you had to quit your job. Klaus found work, or some other way that you never asked about to make the money for rent and food that you lacked the appetite to eat anymore.

Most nights were spent with him holding you as you clung to him, desperate for contact, desperate for heat, desperately afraid.

You went to the doctor one day while Klaus wasn’t home. When he spoke, you stared at the sunny smiling face on the pain chart hanging on the cabinet behind him. You laughed bitterly, tears coursing down your cheeks. He asked you if you had any questions. You asked him for answers, for hope. He had none to give. So you walked out of the clinic, walked home through the snowy streets, your bones aching with every step.

You didn’t actually tell Klaus. You didn’t think you had to. The unfathomable sadness in his eyes told you that he already knew. You expected him to run. You knew he didn’t like death, hated it.

But he stayed. He cared for you as you shrunk down to a skeleton, as you struggled to keep even water in your system, as breathing became a fight, as your memory became cloudy. There were days where you couldn’t even remember his name, but you knew even then how much he loved you. He tried to keep your routine as regular as he could, to keep up spaghetti Thursdays and laying on the roof with him watching the stars while he smoked and talked nonsense and when he was really lucky you sang along to the soft, crooning radio. To pretend that you didn’t both cry yourselves to sleep more nights than not. He tried so hard for you.

One night, about six months after you began to get sick, you forced yourself to put on his favorite dress, even though it hung limply off your frame these days, and your favorite pair of bright red dancing shoes. He raised his eyebrows at you as you shuffled carefully down the hall, a soft, terribly fond smile gracing his face when you answered with a shrug. Your heart ached as you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him smile, certainly not and mean it.

Slowly, you climbed out onto the fire escape and up to the roof of your apartment building, Klaus following close behind with his hands on your back and elbow to keep you steady. (He always managed to keep you steady, even when he was falling himself.)

You laid there on the flat plane, his fur-edged black coat as a blanket beneath the two of you. The haze of Klaus’s weed smoke floated through the air and the stars seemed to shine all the more for cutting through it. The moon was low and full, a watchful friend.

A soft, familiar note floated through the static of the portable radio above his head. You reached up to turn the dial, adding your own (rougher than it used to be) hum to the increased volume.

You stood up, reaching a hand down for him.

He frowned, puzzled.

You licked your cracked lips, more nervous than you had been in any of your days together.

“Let’s dance,” you said with a smile, tilting your head to one side.

He reached up and placed his fingers in yours, letting you tug him to his feet. Immediately, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, the two of you slotting together as you had every night of your lives, made for being in each other arms.

As you swayed, barely moving, you tried to pretend that even this little exertion didn’t make you dizzy and tired; he tried to pretend he didn’t feel the way you trembled, the way your heart fluttered unevenly. Your eyes met his, those oceans of emerald and sorrow, and you reached up, caressing his cheek with too cold fingers, your papery skin sliding roughly across his.

“I love you,” you murmured.

He said nothing as he dipped his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss you never wanted to end, a kiss tainted with the salt of tears from both of you.

A kiss that only broke when you pitched forward into darkness, collapsing into his arms.

[mysticpetals]

Roses and thorns

Pairing: Jake × player (Nora)

Genre: fluff, angst

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Nora loves making Jake flustered but he isn't exactly complaining when he gets to see that smile on her face.

A/N: y'all....I finally finished it. Fair warning this diverges a little from canon but the Hannah disappearance and investigation arc is still there. The player doesn't know Jake is the hacker's name. I took some writer's liberty with Jake's character since we don't know much about him (except I'll die for him), so I hope that's okay! And lastly, I'm sorry for that ending butttt I'm not that cruel usually. It's just this once. Maybe. All the characters belong to everybyte, I have no claim over them.

Nora breathed deeply as she saw the 'Welcome to Duskwood' sign. She couldn't believe that she was really going through with it.

On the way to her aunt's house, she stopped at a flower shop. It had been a long time since she had seen her aunt and from what she could remember, she was a sweet lady who loved receiving flowers. Her dad told her to get lilies because according to him, it reminded her of her past girlfriend who had died due a chronic disease. After her, her aunt had never been interested in dating and instead, chose to live in Duskwood by herself, running her sweet shop.

Nora stepped out of the car and couldn't avoid the shiver due to the much colder weather. She should have brought some warmer clothes, she mused. The city was much warmer than here, maybe due to industries or the ever increasing cars but she had to admit that Duskwood had its own charm.

The gentle breeze that caressed her face made her feel more alive than she had felt in a long time. Maybe staying cooped up in her small apartment might not have been the best way to work but it's not like she had to go to an office or something. All she needed was her tablet and computer and she was good to go.

The bell chimed loudly as she opened the door to the shop. The interior was very colorful, as expected from a flower shop, and her eyes trailed over all the beautiful arrangements that were displayed. Along the wall, there were shelves filled with flowers of all types and Nora instantly felt her mood brighten.

"Hello and welcome to Plumes. How can I help you?"

Nora turned towards the voice and found a guy with tousled black hair and glasses, smiling politely at her. Though, once he got a good look at her, the smile faltered.

"Oh, hi! I was hoping I could get a simple bouquet of lilies, would that be possible?" She smiled at the guy and he quickly snapped out of his stupor.

"Yes, of course. Do you need it now or…?" He moved behind the shelves, ducking his head and looking for lilies.

"Now, actually. But please take your time, I'm in no rush," she said and proceeded to check out the rows of cards placed in the corner.

Jake couldn't believe that he was seeing Nora, in Duskwood of all places. Why was she here in the first place? The timing was really bad for someone to come here out of the blue, especially when they didn't have many visitors in the first place. At least she didn't know who he was. It was only a small relief but nonetheless, Jake decided to get to know her reasons for coming.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, what brought you here?" He asked, cutting up the larger stems to fit into the bouquet.

"Oh, I'm here to visit someone." Her reply came and Jake frowned. She wasn't here to visit Jessy or the others, was she? If so, it was incredibly naive on her part when any one of them could be Hannah's kidnapper. He didn't know what to say but thankfully, Nora saved him from accidentally saying something that could give out his identity.

"This is a cool place. A lot different than the city," she said, done with choosing a card and took a green pen from the stand on the counter.

"That's definitely a first. Usually, people are trying to get out of here," Jake said, finished with wrapping the flowers in the paper and proceeded to cut a ribbon to tie it up.

He heard her hum in answer and peaked his head from behind the shelves to watch Nora writing on the card. He quickly turned around when she raised her head, cheeks heating up at being caught looking. After decorating the paper with the ribbon and putting a few final touches to make sure everything was in its proper place, Jake brought the bouquet with him to the counter and placed it down gently. Nora looked at it with awe and satisfaction and he felt happy that his skills had lived up to her expectations. Well, one set of skills at least.

"That's really pretty, thank you…" she trailed off, waiting for him to supply a name. Since everyone knew everyone in the town, his employer hadn't seen any use for a nametag. He hesitated for a quick second before telling his name.

"Thank you, Jake." Her smile widened and Jake's cheeks blossomed with a rosy blush. It was hard enough trying to maintain his distance while chatting and now that she was here in person, looking at him with eyes full of merriness, Jake felt as if things had gotten a lot more complicated.

———

Nora's aunt loved the flowers she had gotten and couldn't contain her excitement at having someone in the house other than her pet cat, Nox. She made Nora tell all about her big city life and how her parents were doing. All throughout the chat, she was feeding her all sorts of chocolates and pastries, asking about their texture and flavour and Nora was only too happy to comply. Her aunt had been responsible for her sweet tooth after all.

At night, as she settled in bed after having a shower and drying her hair, her phone lit up with a text notification and she was surprised to see that it was the hacker who had messaged her.

Hacker [9:30pm]

Hey, Nora.

How was your day?

She read the message and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He had never messaged her first and now that he did, he's talking as if he's greeting an old friend. She typed out her reply after thinking about it for a while.

Nora [9:32pm]

It was...fine. nothing too exciting

Oh! I met a cute guy today

Hacker [9:32pm]

Oh, you did? That's nice.

Nora [9:33pm]

Don't worry though! I only have eyes for you ;)

Her screen showed that he was typing and erasing his text and she chuckled, imagining him blushing and not knowing what to say. He was so much fun to rile up, especially since he got flustered so easily.

Hacker [9:35pm]

I'm looking up on another lead I found.

If you find anything on Hannah's cloud related to a therapist, send it to me.

Nora pouted. He was basically ignoring her very obvious attempt at flirting and she did not appreciate it.

Nora [9:35pm]

You're no fun :(

I'm pretty tired today but I'll search through her cloud tomorrow

Good night!

She received a simple 'okay' and 'goodnight' in return and the hacker went offline again. That had to be the weirdest conversation they had and their whole relationship was built on strangeness.

She shrugged off the messages and fluffed up the covers. Right now, sleep was calling and who was she to deny it?

———

The next few days were spent indoors, with her aunt busy with a birthday order, she opted to work on Hannah's cloud as well as her commissions at the same time.

Sketching out the last details of a virtual character, she sighed with exhaustion when she was finally satisfied with it. Her phone pinged with a flurry of new messages and she leaned back on the couch, picking it up.

It was from the group chat with everyone and Lilly was creating trouble. 'Voting' to keep her involved or not. Couldn't she and everyone else for that matter see that she and the hacker guy had been trying to help as much as they could, and in her case, not even knowing any of them in the first place.

It was rather hurtful to know that nobody trusted her enough to vote 'yes' the first time around. But Dan voting for her made a smug smile spread across her face. Lilly and Thomas were definitely not okay with that and logged off immediately. She began to wonder if the hacker hadn't sent that video message in their group, would they have the same reaction as now?

She wrote a reply, not really paying attention to her words and locked her phone, flinging it towards the other end of the couch. Running her hands through her hair in frustration, she debated on what to do. She had tried to be forthcoming about everything but it really irked her that this was what she got for trying to help.

Her pettiness won out in the end and before Nora knew it, she had already snatched up her car keys and phone, on her way to the only flower shop in Duskwood.

———

Jake had been slacking on the job and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

The past few day's events plagued his mind. Nora hadn't texted him, ever since a short 'thank you' when he sent that intimidating video to her friend's group chat. She was online but barely responded to any messages and it made him a little worried. She was not the quiet sort of person and he was anxious as to whether she was feeling okay or not.

He glanced up from his phone, debating whether to message her or not, when the door opened and in walked Nora herself. It was afternoon so she had forgone her coat and was instead dressed in a casual attire of hoodie and jeans.

She smiled as she saw he was looking at her and Jake quickly locked his phone, putting it on the counter and greeted her.

"Didn't know I'll see you again so soon here," he said, with a hint of teasing and Nora shook her head.

"Neither did I. But here we are." She shrugged.

"Do you want a bouquet again?" He asked curiously. He hadn't expected her so soon at all. Whoever she was visiting must be really fond of flowers. That or she just came to see him. He tried not to linger on that last thought.

Nora's lips curled into a smirk, a devilish glint in her eyes and Jake swallowed nervously. She looked positively sinful with that expression, leaning across from him and he felt himself flushing slightly.

"Oh, yes. But not something typical. I'd like to have a bouquet made of flowers that say 'I hope you go to hell' or 'fuck you'."

Jake couldn't help the surprised laughter that bubbled past his lips at her words.

"That's oddly specific."

Nora shrugged again but a playful smile still rested upon her face.

"Well, someone did piss me off so…"

"Someone from here?" He tilted his head and watched as she stiffened. At least she was careful with what she revealed.

"Not really. I'm going back the day after tomorrow and figured the flowers would be okay for a day. Will they be okay?" She frowned.

Jake tried not to show his disappointment at that. Was she really going back or was it just a lie because he asked who they were for? He was pretty sure they were for Lilly and now he regretted asking her and making her uncomfortable.

"Oh, yeah they'll be fine. Again, would you like it now or…" he trailed off.

"I can wait!" She smiled and plopped down on a chair in front of the large window.

Jake quietly headed for the backroom, chuckling to himself while choosing the flowers that would successfully deliver her rage from earlier.

Meanwhile, Nora quickly got bored of sitting around and decided to message the hacker guy. She hadn't really talked to him these past few days and was itching for any conversation with him. Snapping a photo of the floral display, she sent it to him, knowing he'll probably figure out that she was in Duskwood now. The buzz of a phone on the counter grabbed her attention. Jake must have left it here before going to get the flowers.

She hesitated and quickly sent another text saying 'hello', raising her eyebrows when the phone buzzed again. Curiosity won and she made her way to the counter and saw her name flashing on the screen.

She grinned.

It was fifteen minutes later that Jake came back with a beautiful bouquet in hand. How he had managed to make 'fuck you' look so good, Nora might never know. He was surprised to see that she hadn't moved from her position on the chair at all but let it go without much thought.

"Ah, thank you so much, Jake!" She chirped brightly, coming to stand in front of the counter and looking at his work.

"It's no trouble." He ducked his head shyly, not being used to the praise. The townspeople were much more distant and mostly parted with a simple thank you. It was refreshing to hear that someone appreciated his more known set of skills.

"Seriously, this is so beautiful. I almost don't want to give it up." Nora didn't have any trouble communicating her genuine thoughts and now that she knew who he was, she wanted to have a little fun.

She dashed to the shelves and picked out a fully bloomed rose and put in on the counter. Despite his confusion, he rang up the rose along with everything and relayed the total amount to Nora.

She paid him and picked up the bouquet, giving him a smile and headed for the door.

"Wait! You forgot the rose." He held up the single flower but Nora just grinned.

"Ah, did I forget to mention? That's for you."

She laughed in delight at the blush that spread rapidly across his cheeks and giving him a final wink, stepped out of Plumes.

Jake covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. Nora was going to be the death of him but he found himself thinking that maybe he wouldn't mind it, after all.

———

Jake looked at the text Nora sent him earlier, sitting in front of his computer. The rose she had given him was in a glass full of water beside his bed. Why would she send him the photo of the flowershop? Did she want him to know that she was in Duskwood?

He didn't know what to reply so he simply sent a 'pretty' and waited for her to say something. He felt himself smile when he watched the three dots on his creen, signaling she was typing. They talked about Hannah for a while before the conversation took a more personal turn.

Nora [8:45pm]

I don't want you to go.

Jake's breath hitched at the message, heart beating rapidly. How Nora managed to have this much effect on him through a screen was almost unbelievable to him. He bit his lip and the events of the past week came rushing through his mind, making him confused.

Did she like the 'Hacker' or the flower shop employee 'Jake'? He felt frustrated with the situation and himself, not knowing what to feel. He wished they could talk simply, without any investigation involved.

Nora [8:46pm]

You know, I like you

He scanned the message with furrowed eyebrows. If Nora liked him, why was she flirting with 'Jake'? He poured out all his frustration and insecurities in his reply, watching as she still tried to convince him that this–whatever he and Nora had–was okay.

He didn't want to be hurt, nor did he want to hurt her, so he did what he thought was right. The messages were almost painful to write and he shut his phone as soon as he sent them.

Rubbing his palms over his eyes, he focused on the computer in front of him. His goal was to find Hannah, he didn't need any distractions.

It was morning when he picked up his phone again, eyes scanning the last text Nora sent.

Nora [9:00pm]

I'm sorry Jake

I won't bother you about this again.

His heart almost stopped at the use of his name. How did she know? More importantly, what had he done?

[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.

[anonil88]

A Green Night on the Town.

Is this a modern au? No. Ruby and Christina end up meeting the neighbors as William and Hillary. But Ruby wants to go to the bar and live a little, 👀.

Ruby Baptiste X Christina Braithwhite

Inspired by comments and posts by @dreaduquesne and @taylor144. I did do some research for this, the one song is from the 1960s but we are gonna pretend it's not. If you are going to be negative just for negativity sake please don’t. Wanted to post this before tonight’s episode where this ship may go down in flames. One more ep left after tonight *insert sad emojis*

Songs in order of appearance in story: Put on my Shoes by Mary Anne Fisher, I don't know by Ruth Brown, One Man's Poison by Liz Lands, It's Your Voodoo Working by Charles Sheffield.

MATURE RATING

LINK TO STORY ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN 

Ruby sat in the Bentley checking her image in the side mirror. The red lipstick she reapplied was new and came in a gold bullet with roses carved into it. It was the shade Ruby and she got it on one of her shopping adventures. As Hillary of course. The matte color clashed with Hillary's choice of clothing but perfectly matched her pink dress with red and blue flowers stitched onto it. She wasn't only checking her face but looking out for unfriendly neighbors.

In the weeks she's been with Christina in the house, the looks she's gotten are usually not friendly. Kids and parents alike staring her up and down like she is trash. In her most unholy form of self they smiled "Fake ass white folks ," she thinks. They were lucky most white people did not want trouble knowing William lived with her openly. As openly as they could be, the city of Chicago has always cared less about couples like them but the people sure do care enough. Ruby glances at the door that sits far behind iron gates. 

After her day out, William introduced her to some of the neighbors on another street who had kids. Kids who looked innocent playing in the streets. A group of men talking on the street flagged the Pontiac down making Ruby tense but William's hand rested atop hers in the middle of the seat.  They spoke across her wondering where they could get themselves a car and a woman that. William chuckled and made small talk which Ruby side eyed her partner for. 

That led to them both getting out of the car introducing themselves to these men and their wives as Hillary and William Davenport. An invitation for dinner came from one wife who kept commenting on the bump in Hillary's hair too nicely. Ruby heard a little bit of Christina's snark in Williams no and tampened that response with, "Sorry we have plans tonight." Which thankfully was accepted and before then they had no plans but now Ruby wanted to spend the night dancing to music, maybe singing just a little. As herself, after an exhausting day of keeping up with the Joneses or Smiths or whatever white slave master name they probably shared with a poorer distant cousin on the Southside. Damn she kinda missed the Southside. Christina had been before but not like this.

She sees a teenage boy dragging a trash can down the driveway next door but listens to the sound of feet making their way down the walkway. Slowly she puts the lipstick in her purse that will get left in the back seat because tonight she wants nothing to hold her back. Ruby watches Christina open and lock the gate with her back turned. Hair perfectly swooped to the side even in moonlight.

The tall blonde was in a green dress fitted at the waist that was far too fancy for whatever jazz joint they were bound to end up in. It looked new but Ruby swore Christina had too big of a closet, almost big enough for two people. William had a vest in a similar color, he wore a few days ago...well she wore Ruby guesses. Christina looks nice as she saunters towards the silver drivers side and Ruby bit the inside of her lip. There was something about the way the woman was so sure and confident in her walk, how she sat, or how she inserted the silver key into the ignition. Even when she was out dressing her for a simple night on the town. Those long hands just so handling the key before slipping...

Ruby swallows her jealous admiration and rolls her eyes, "Seriously?"

"What, is this too much ?" Christina asks, smoothing her fingertips over the leather of the steering wheel. She leans over Ruby likely too close and slips a vial of William's blood in the glove box. Giving Ruby an amused stare that makes Ruby roll her eyes even harder. Christina thinks of this as a game, one they both play. There are days she has already taken her potion and is dressed in slacks eating breakfast. Ruby will saunter into the kitchen dressed in a number that makes Christina wonder if keeping Ruby hostage would be so bad. Probably, if Leticia found out there would be a makeshift army outside her front door.

"Ha," Ruby laughs out loud and Christina smiles, "You fucking think, it's a jazz joint not the Ritz. Who in the Sam Hill are you trying to impress tonight?"

Christina lowers her eyes to Ruby's lips. She thinks of just exactly who she was continually trying to impress as covertly as possible. Ruby looks away and back realizing Christina is still staring at her like....that. She does it in William's skin too, those eyes sizing her up. Two piercing blue eyes always staring at her so deeply Ruby thinks she could burst into flames. No matter the face she does find it hard to look away. 

"Don't look at me like that. I warned you about that, now drive." Ruby says crossing her arms in her lap listening to the engine come alive. Christina grins to herself but keeps her words to herself as she shifts the car into drive.

The night leads them to Vesey's where Ruby is plenty filled with free drinks. She already sang at the last spot with a band but her presence rouses the crowd that is already not slow at all tonight. The bar is more packed than normal and Ruby forgets to ask why. She did hear Sammy whisper across the bar to a man next to her something about a discreet open door to friends of Dorothy for once. As soon as her and her unlikely plus one arrived, Christina said she'd be fine on her own. 

Ruby took that for truth but tried to read her half truth anyway. Christina held her own well but not like this...this would be a first. That was something Christina would say often "a first" with practically anything it made Ruby wonder if her secret-sometimes lover had any childhood or life at all before her sister came barreling into that mansion.

The whiskey is neat on her tongue as she tosses it back quickly before blearily grinning at Sammy. Tonight felt good and light and fun. No white eyes staring at her making her feel undone in front of them. Ruby in her skin surrounded by her kin and music that was sewn into her spirit. No matter how sad the lyrics could get the beat was full of life.

"And we have our resident songstress in the crowd tonight," someone on the small stage called out. Whistles came from the bar and the crowd mid dance at the stage. Andre, the young barkeep, winking at her taking her lipstick stained glass back behind the bar.

"I guess that's my cue Dre," Ruby raised her brows at him. He nods back, touching her hand sitting on the bar lightly. He sure was cute, she thought before slowly getting up from the stool. She makes her way past the packed house and in front of the band playing. Shouts and hollers come from the crowd as she holds out her hands. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Ruby Baptiste." The man pushes the mic in her hand and whispers good luck to her. She isn't a stranger to singing while drunk or singing well while drunk. Not even with a big audience but there is a feeling of nerves in her fingers as she grips the mic and slips it back in the stand.

"Hello Southside," Ruby says into the mic. Whistles get louder and someone bangs on the bar. This crowd definitely had some new faces in it but they were smiling or leaning against someone else like lustful animals. "Alrighty i guess y'all are entitled to a few songs."

Someone yells from a booth, "Yea, where you been Ruby left us on the south side for the north side."

Ruby laughs into the mic, " Y'all think I would leave this behind never!" She looks at the guitarist, "maybe you." Folks gossiping was always a trend her name sour on so many people's mouths.

Everyone laughs in response and she laughs quietly to herself. She whispers to the band "Put on my shoes".

Ruby sways with the band as they start before leaning into the mic.

"Should I feel a little hot, you almost drive me insane, All your good intentions. Seem to wash right down the drain, put yourself in my place. You'll see what I mean and you'll know how I feel. And you'll feel, you'll feel a pain in your heart."

Ruby scans the crowd with her eyes, landing on random spots of the crowd that look more enthused then others. Her voice still gravels out...

"Baby I've been let down more times than I can remember how you cheated on poor lil me from January to December. Put yourself in my place. You'll see what I mean and you'll know how I feel."

Her hand cradles the mic as she throws her words into it. She knows that pain even if it is not her current romance. Her heart had been split open once or twice before. Maybe that's why she held her heart back in  this thing with William, Christina, or as Montrose called them Chrilliam.

"And you'll feel you'll feel a pain in your heart. I've always been faithful and I've always been true but there's gotta be the death gotta be a change in you."

Fuck him, she thought throwing her anguish in het voice before leaning back up to scan the crowd.

"Put on my shoes for a day.

Put on my shoes for a week.

Put on my shoes for a month or two, know what I've been through."

If only she could make a spell or potion, so that Christina could understand. Understand why she gets so angry and frustrated with the woman in and outside of her own blackness. She finally finds the blonde blending in surprisingly well. Christina has a drink in hand leaning against the wall, watching her. Blue eyes sweeping across the stage as Ruby moves about the space. Instead of looking away Ruby croons out....

"Go on and have fun after all is said and done."

Someone bemoans out yes sing Ruby sing. Ruby watches Christina stare at her not breaking the tension between the two of them. If this was an empty house it would be much more obvious that Ruby had been stuck. Stuck on the way Christina clutched the glass in her hand to her lips. The way her eyes didn't waver or move from Ruby eyeing her up and down.

"Put on my shoes you'll get the blues the blues the blues if you put on my shoes."

The song starts to end and Ruby finally looks away. Her heart is beating so loudly it could probably take over for Gordy the drummer if they need be. If only Christina could know authentically how it felt to be in skin like hers. Not some misplaced gesture that could have gotten her dumb ass killed...if only. 

Christina half listens to the short woman sharing the table with her. She did not care at all what the woman was saying but she fully understood she had no power in this establishment. Magically yes, but physically she was the outsider here. If someone wanted to sit at the same table in this bar they could. This bar was thick with smoke, heat, and loud. Christina observed it all, everyone seemed at home in this small establishment. A home full of strangers that couldn't cross into Lincoln Park with that same joy and comfort. She didn't understand that feeling but she also never really had a "home" to connect to. A comfort as distant as her ability to empathize with these people.

A taller full figured woman stands next to the shorter darker one before sitting down eyeing Christina up and down. Which Christina doesn't change her one note expression for. The shorter woman is still yapping on about something and Christina flits her eyes between the two. At some point the taller one leans in and introduces herself as Celia. Christina leans in a bit to hear her and nods. Celia has a cool confidence she immediately picks up on instead of the jittery energy in between them.

"Isn't this wild Cil I've never seen a white woman walk in this place alone," the short one finally says in between winds of her story.

Celia smiles at Christina and says lowly, "Alone is right." Christina sees something in the taller woman's eye and grits her teeth a bit. She isn't alone, not really, with Ruby in the same building. But neither of them is kept and Ruby doesn't often kiss her without the pieces of William stuck to her skin. 

"What's he coming over here all fancy like for, she's just white. Not royalty." a man in the booth next to the table huffs out loud enough for Christina to hear. One purpose most likely she knows.

Christina turns and sees the owner of the bar walking over to the table with a tray holding a wine glass filled with red. A few bystanders jump out of his way or side eye him. This didn't seem like the place where people went to for a glass of wine. Sammy was his name, she remembers that from her own bits of research on her extended family. She has also heard whispers that he was or is linked to her cousin's father, in that way. He stops in front of her and places the glass on the table. 

"On the house Braithwhite." Sammy purses his lips a little at her and she crosses her eyes at him. "A request from..." the stage he mouths. She softens her look when he walks away and pulls the glass to her. Sipping it she almost laughs, it's an awful merlot that tastes like pennies. The copper taste sits on her tongue and her eyes go wide. Slipping her hand into the pockets on her dress she feels for the glass vial that should be there. After a moment of panic she feels the cold glass pulling it out a bit to ensure it's still full. It is. She sighs relief into the glass and sips it again.

The music from the band is still blaring as the crowd in front of the seating area sways and moves back and forth. No singing comes through the air and Christina leans her neck slightly to find Ruby on the stage or in the crowd. It takes a bit before a wheezy laugh proceeds and sees a man on stage with Ruby. He is swaying behind her as she holds the mic singing into the mic, 

"Could a heart so right be led so wrong if his love is weak would it last this long. I don't know but I hope and pray that he comes my way oh oh." 

Christina grips at her own thigh with the hand still sitting in her pocket.

The horn player toots out loudly and Ruby turns around lightly pushing away the tall built man behind her. It was all in good fun as the band kept playing and he sidled back up to her slipping his hands back to her waist teasingly. She hears the band transition into another song while she dances on stage. Left, right, left, right. She feels her hips sway away from the fingers resting above her dress. She recognizes this song and shakes her shoulders along to the music that's all around her. Looking back at the crowd she can see the stares that she is receiving from the men in the crowd. It is all temptation and fire from many directions but Ruby shrugs to herself. She did not come for a man, she had one of those already, which was obvious others heard about. Her core tightens thinking of that man, so adept with the way he took care of her. Where is he? She wonders looking back to the table she sent that bottom shelf wine to earlier. She sees Christina but Christina is holding a conversation with a glass half full. A conversation that Ruby blinks at, a woman, a very pretty light skinned girl is undressing Christina with her eyes. Ruby knows she can't hide the look on her face and bites her tongue. It earns her an, “Ooo gurl what's on your mind,” from the guitarist who she sees her face flare with jealousy. He’s following her gaze to the table and whistles loudly. He never thought Ruby went that way, but he didn’t know a lot about Ruby outside of rumors.

Braithwhite never looked out of place even in a place like this. She just fit in well without trying like a chameleon making herself comfortable in someone else's home. If Ruby did not know some of Christina’s truths this would concern her, but not so much now. At least even at her most sordid she was honest. The green of the dress did stand out but it felt see through to Ruby. She was pretty sure the woman on the other end could only wish for the type of knowledge she had. The alcohol and revitalized confidence in her gives her half the mind to throw her shoe from the stage. Maybe knocking Christina's eyes, that were probably not bulging as much as Ruby's liquored brain saw, back into her head. Ruby thinks better than that and sits the mic back in the stand and clears her throat into the mic.

Eyes including those blue ones find their way back to the stage. Ruby glares a bit in Christina's direction then directs her words back to the crowd. "Aight y'all this is my last song for tonight, it's something me and the boys have been cooking up."

Ruby hears the band whistle and mumble about someone having her in a mood tonight. The four count from the symbol goes off and Ruby clenches the mic letting her voice seep out,

"One man's poison is another man's meat, what's good for Johnny will kill poor Pete."

People in the cloud clap at the new sound. Folks lean up off the wall to move towards the dance area or to move with the crooning in their spot. Ruby smiles with her words as they continue. 

"I'm good at loving so make no mistake I was his gravy but I'm your steak. Kiss me baby hold me tight everything's gonna be alright."

Ruby sways her hips back and forth a bit. Christina feels her eyes getting heavy dragging up and down Ruby's frame. She catches Ruby glancing her way and licks her lips quickly before the woman turns away from her. 

"One man's evil is another man's pure, kiss me baby I want your sweet loving tonight." 

Ruby extends her leg on stage twisting it with the music as she dances with the fill of the band. Moving back to the mic she slides her hands around the tall skinny pole.

Christina empties the contents of her glass not moving her vision from Ruby. She's leaning out of her chair slightly, but tries to pull herself together. If the times allowed her to, she'd have Ruby right there on the stage and she guesses if the crowd wasn’t soaking in the way Ruby reeled them in. Ruby was full of magic and had an effect on people that Christina was sensitive to. Even the first time she heard her sing.

Ruby grins as the band keeps playing and nods to them. Which they respond with air kisses. The crowd jeers as Ruby makes her way off the stage. A man's arm outstretched guides her off the stage even though she didn't need any help. Ruby can feel fire on her skin likely from Christina at the attention from a few gentlemen as Ruby passes them on her way to the bar for a glass of water. When she makes her way towards the seating area she teasingly saunters past the table she knows the blonde is sitting at. Ruby feels the eyes outlining her from behind and hears someone excuse themselves from a table behind her. She keeps walking to the bathroom she knew was at the end of the hall. 

The sound of heels matching her stride as she opens and lets herself in the single person toilet.

Ruby swallows her moans while slowly tugging the long blonde hairs in between her fingers. Light tugs feeling soft rouged cheeks against her inner thighs. Lips kissing up against her thigh garters and stockings. Ruby exhales pulling Christina's head back up to hers.

"Is that what you wanted, sitting there pissed off because someone had your new toy."

Christina exhales feeling Ruby's nails scratch her scalp ever so. Her face is flushed, she can feel it, but she shakes out no lightly. "You aren't a toy," Christina pushes Ruby's hand away from her and leans over her. Less than inches away, "I guess I'm just a little jealous and it seems you are too." 

Ruby scoffs but doesn't deny it, instead she drinks in the way Christina looks at her. With a vigor and a hunger that makes her thighs clench against the hand there. Fingers that sting in her memories from the car stroke up and down and Ruby does something she rarely does. She leans in and pulls Christina's lips to hers.

Christina revels in the slow tongue inching along hers. Ruby's hand on the back of her head, pulls her closer, and she slaps a hand against the tile wall surrounding the mirror. She likes this Ruby whoever this Ruby is. Unattached. Christina whimpers, feeling her head shoulders pushed downward. This Ruby who kisses her even without her being William. She also feels good in Ruby who is bound and only kisses William.

"You said you'd kiss whatever I wanted Braithwhite," Ruby gathers the blonde’s hair in her hands. Sinking her red fingernails into the blonde scalp, she opens her legs wider putting more weight on the metal sink. Ruby feels her breath hitch watching Christina sink to her knees while biting her lip at Ruby's words. Christina is undoing the snap of her garter while pushing Ruby's dress further up her thighs. It's almost around her waist, but this was not the place to just strip of it completely. Ruby leans her head back in relief feeling Christina inch the lacey cotton fabric around her hips down until they are off completely. She hopes Christina tucks them in her pocket at least.

Christina sighs pushing the lacey fabric into the same pocket holding William. She lightly bites into Ruby's thigh before moving to taste her fully. There is a low shudder and the grip on her hair tightens as she dips her head forward closing her eyes to fully immerse herself in Ruby. Ruby feels the hot coils in her stomach snapping and crackling. Her free hand moves from clenching her mouth to gripping the sink. She doesn't want to ruin Christina's dress but the heel of her shoe is pressing into the blondes back. A gasp like moan escapes her mouth as a shiver runs across her collar bone.

"Oh shit," the door next to them squeaks open and shut quickly, making both Ruby and  Christina open their eyes. Christina turns her head upward to stare at Ruby. She can't say she feels any shame in her current position, but Ruby might. Ruby can only see the blue eyes peeking at her with concern and heat from the bottom of her dress. But, she feels like wetness on Christina's chin on her warm thighs. Ruby leans over to the lock on the door and twists it shut before leaning her head back on the wall. She regrips Christina's hair, "Kiss what I want."

Ruby moans out loud while music and a jazzy tune slips under the door.

“Your love is voodoo and I just can’t last. It's your voodoo working, voodoo working, voodoo working and I can't get a lick…..”

[more-miserables]

Part Seven - White Wedding

@cubeswhump here. This title has no significance. Y'all know I'm terrible with titles and there's this bit about wedding dresses and I got that stupid Billy Idol song stuck in my head.

Tagging @liliability @albino-whumpee If you're not tagged and want to be, just let one of us know.

Yates was hoping he’d be able to curl up with Ginger under those soft, frilly bedsheets and take a nap, hoping he’d have time to digest all the extraordinary information they’d received in the past thirty-six hours. Ginger looked like he would have benefitted from some sleep too - but he didn’t even wait for his face to regain its colour. He hauled himself up on his wobbly legs, clinging to the wall for support.

“Come on,” he hissed. “I want to look around. Check everyone out.”

“I really think you should rest for today,” Yates mumbled, though he was already trailing after Ginger. “We don’t even have any real clothes.” Andromeda had brought them strange, soft pyjamas when they’d both showered after the doctor left. Ginger’s looked practically brand new - plaid pants and a soft black shirt with long sleeves. Yates’s were older, with a slightly washed-out look, the bright pink faded to a sickly peach. They were patterned with bright red roses; it seemed the person closest to his size was one of the girls.

“I doubt they’ll care what we wear. But we need to make sure these guys are the real deal, okay? Make sure they won’t report us.” The stairs were causing Ginger some difficulty, and Yates held him round the waist to guide him up. “Thanks. Look, I’ll sleep after we meet everybody, if you really want.”

“Okay…”

They jumped when at that precise moment, someone knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. Yates opened the door very reluctantly, and Andromeda strode down the stairs, smiling brightly at them both.

"Are you two hungry? Shall I bring a tray here again or would you like to come upstairs?"

“Upstairs please,” Ginger said, while Yates was still dithering over the choice and the astonishment that they’d been given one. “We want to look around.”

“Ginger does,” Yates whispered. He’d much rather cower in the basement himself.

"Well, we'd love to see you," Andromeda said, "but if you want to stay here while he looks around, there's the TV or I can find you an audiobook or some drawing stuff…"

“No thank you,” Yates said hastily, grabbing Ginger’s good hand. “I’d prefer to stay with him.”

Andromeda nodded, and though he smiled, the look in his eye and his lingering gaze made Yates uncomfortable. He chatted as he led them upstairs and through elaborately decorated, spotless halls.

"There are lots of choices so I think you'll find something you like. Everyone likes different things here. Xander gets sick from a lot of foods so we have to limit certain things. David is back over and he just likes toast and tea, but you can have something more exciting if you'd like."

“We should probably introduce ourselves to David, if he’s our new owner,” Yates said. “We need to be respectful.”

"No, he's not your owner. No one has owners here," Andromeda said calmly, and added, "Well, except the animals."

“It might take him a while to grasp it,” Ginger mumbled. “He was always better at this than I was.”

The kitchen was its own room with the wall connecting to the flamboyant living room knocked down. There was an actual booth by the very large windows, blue benches with grey pillows and a marble table, and a table with chairs that matched the bench nearby. This was clearly the main room they ate in.

Tina, Nils, and Harley were at the table - and there was a new boy there too, pressed right up against Tina's side. His hair had more brown to it than Ginger's, but Ginger almost felt glad he wasn't the only redhead. But this boy had skin that was almost tan and none of the freckles splattered all over Ginger.

There were three more people at the other table, a baby in a wooden highchair, a woman, and a… Yates did a double take and was pretty sure he was a man. The woman wore a very fancy nightgown, decorative lace and silk and way too much effort to sleep in. Her legs were propped up on another chair and she had on fuzzy slippers with rabbit ears, ruining the effect. She was very pretty, though, with dark eyes and smooth brown skin and high cheekbones. Her hair was very big and curly, dark brown with blonde highlights. The baby had very dark hair with curls like hers and skin the same shade, and the frilly pink clothes suggested she was also a girl.

The man across from her seemingly ignored her for his phone, sipping his tea carefully so he wouldn't smudge his lipstick. Who in their right mind would wake up and put on a full face of makeup this early? His shirt was shiny purple silk that matched his nails and his black hair fell in loose curls, and judging by the lines around his eyes Ginger secretly thought that wasn't his real color.

Yates ducked behind Ginger, suddenly shy. This man - if he really was a man, Yates still wasn’t totally sure - was unlike any he’d ever seen. He looked nothing like any of the men who came by Stanley’s house, and he didn’t look like the people at the facility. He couldn’t help seeming rather formidable, with his cool air of class and his perfect posture. The serious look on his face didn’t help. Ginger couldn’t think why anyone would paint their face just to sit there looking miserable, but he was quickly distracted by the baby. She was cute, sure, but also the most unexpressive, dull baby ever. He squinted. Was it even blinking?

Andromeda ran through a list of vaguely familiar names: "You've met Tina, Nils, and Harley. That's Briar, that's Priscilla, and that's David. Xander and Jay usually sleep in and Crow's a little nervous to meet you two just yet."

Yates heard none of that, and he didn't see the auburn-haired boy glaring or the unfamiliar woman sizing them up. He also didn't hear this woman say, "Fresh meat."

He only heard Andromeda say David. He saw the finger pointing at this new man, and David turning to nod at them. He saw David shake his head at the woman at his table.

This was David, the new owner. And Yates had no idea what to expect from a man like this. He went to kneel and show respect again, but Ginger caught him by the scruff of his pyjamas and held him there. Yates froze, staring at David helplessly.

Yates nearly jumped when this man spoke. His voice was surprisingly deep and very plummy.

"You don't have to stay standing. There's space over here, or you can sit over there since you're acquainted with Tina and Nils," he said, waving a hand in their direction and adjusting his glasses with the other.

Yates started asking in a tiny voice which David would prefer, but Ginger wasn’t in the greatest mood after having his hand hacked at for half the morning. He grabbed Yates mid-sentence and dragged him over to Tina’s table.

Andromeda was by their side, running down a list of food options, but both were distracted. At the forefront of Yates' mind was this David, and Ginger was having a staring contest with Nils. Only Nils would not make eye contact and Ginger had no clue what he was staring at. His drink was in a sippy cup and his waffles and fruit were cut into tiny bits. Odd.

“What were you trained as?” he asked. Maybe a domestic - he wasn’t particularly pretty, just like Ginger himself.

Tina gave Nils a fond pat on the shoulder. “Nils didn’t quite have the same background as you, dear. But he’s equally safe and happy here.” She didn’t elaborate, and Ginger was left more confused than ever.

Nils looked at her, squinting like he had no idea what she was talking about. But he went back to his plate, dripping syrup down his bare chest and whining when Tina wiped him down with a flannel. He didn't close his mouth to chew either. Watching him eat wasn't terribly appetizing. Ginger was almost glad he didn’t have much appetite, but he put a waffle in front of Yates. “You should eat something. When did you last eat properly?”

Yates bent his head. “I’m… not sure I should eat.”

“Why not? You must be hungry.”

“But I haven’t done anything to deserve it,” Yates muttered. His voice was low, but Tina still heard.

“You don’t have to earn food, sweetheart,” she said. “Nobody does. You can eat all you want here. You’re not going to get into trouble for eating.”

"It's good to keep our energy up, yeah?" Andromeda called from where he sat at David's table. "You can have however much you want. Both of you."

Yates nibbled his lip. This had to be a trick. Stanley used to do it too. He’d ask Yates if he thought he deserved to eat, and if he said yes he was punished for taking luxuries for granted, and if he said no he’d be punished for not working hard enough.

Ginger sighed. He cut off a corner of the waffle and held it up to Yates. Yates sucked in his lips and Ginger snorted. “Are you five? Come on. Just a bit.”

Yates shook his head stubbornly.

“For me?” Ginger said, putting a breathy, sickly-sweet imitation of Yates’s own voice. Yates gave him a disgruntled look - but parted his lips slightly all the same. Ginger quickly stuffed the fork in his mouth before he could reconsider.

Andromeda caught Tina's eye and grinned. She winked.

As Ginger helped Yates through his breakfast, he stared across the table again, trying to size everyone up. Nils was still painting himself with syrup, commanding most of Tina’s attention, so Ginger looked at the boy clinging to her other side. Brian, was it?

Nils stole most of the attention but when you actually noticed this boy, he was possibly weirder. He just stared at Tina wordlessly and wouldn't touch his eggs and pancakes until she nudged him, at which point he would take a bite or two and then go back to staring. At one point, he noticed Ginger's gaze - and gave him the most ferocious scowl.

Ginger felt affronted and pulled a hideous face back, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose.

"Ah!" Nils suddenly yelled out, jumping up and pressing his face to the window. Harley barely glanced up, like this was ordinary, but Ginger's eyebrows shot up at the goat grazing just outside.

“What is he doing?” Ginger asked weakly. Not that he was upset by the sight of the goat. It looked quite sweet. Maybe it would let him stroke it? If he was allowed. No, even if he wasn’t! He was through taking orders now.

“Why don’t you show them the animals when we finish eating?” Andromeda called over. “Maybe you two new boys would like to see around the house.”

“I’d rather see the animals,” Ginger said. Yates wasn’t too keen on that - he’d much rather look around the house - but he didn’t want to be away from Ginger. He kept quiet.

After everyone had finished, Andromeda collected plates and started cleaning up. Nils crawled over Tina and Briar, who yelled, “Get off!” He was standing before anyone else, waving his arms at Ginger and Yates in an exaggerated beckoning gesture.

They stood obediently, Yates clinging onto Ginger’s good hand. They could’ve been glued together now for all the time they spent linked. They followed Nils to the door, Ginger having to drag Yates out because he didn’t want his bare feet on the grass. Nils, though fairly clean right now, looked like he belonged out here with the animals with his toffee-colored hair standing out in every direction, shirtless with freckles all across his face and torso and barefoot with overgrown toenails. He ran to a shed first.

“What’s in here?” Ginger asked, pointing to the shed. “Which animal?”

Nils turned to them, bunching his four fingers and thumb together and tapping his lips twice before leading them into the shed. The shed was small and from what Ginger could see, there were no animals in there. Just canisters, buckets, metal bowls, and hay. Nils popped the lids off to canisters and started filling a plastic bucket with grey-brown pellets.

“I don’t know what your hand gestures mean,” Ginger told him. “Can you point to what I need to get?”

Nils grunted a bit as he picked the bucket up, and he shoved it into Ginger’s arms. Ginger had to let go of Yates to grab it, and Yates clung to his shirt instead. Then Yates was nearly knocked over when something bashed into his shoulder. He looked down to see the small block of hay that had hit him, and back up to see Nils pointing at him.

“You want my help too?” He hastily grabbed the hay block, eager to be of use. Nils nodded and gave Yates another small block, and he filled up another bucket with pellets and corn and hauled it up himself, cheeks puffing out, and led them out the door. He was almost as small as Yates, and at least a few years younger, but he seemed to trust himself more with the heavier of the feed.

“I guess we’re not worthy of the hard jobs yet,” Ginger muttered, but he didn’t sound cross. He was smiling.

Nils dragged them around the yard. It was big, a bit too big as Nils kept nearly dropping his bucket and when he set it down to take a break, a big goat and a smaller one ran at him. He held it above them and shook his head, but he turned to Ginger and tilted his head toward the goats.

“This?” Ginger checked, pointing to his bucket. The goats were showing a lot of interest in him. The little one lowered its head and bumped Ginger’s legs, making him squeak in surprise.

Nils nodded. “Oh,” he said, like an instruction.

Ginger scattered the food rather nervously. The goats stayed by his bucket, clearly unimpressed, so he tried again, bolder this time. He scattered large handfuls of feed and the goats pounced on it. He looked at Nils while they were distracted. “Can I touch them? Do they mind?”

Nils nodded, patting the little one. Another goat trotted over, roughly the same size as the bigger one but this one was black, brown, and white. Ginger knelt by the brown one. It was preoccupied with the food; it probably wouldn’t mind being stroked. Ginger ran his good hand over the coarse fur, feather-light and tentative. Nils picked his own bucket up again when the little one became interested, hugging it to his chest to keep hold of it. Yates stood back, holding his hay blocks like a shield. He wasn’t too sure about these goats, with their staring yellow eyes and weird smells. He gasped when one of the goats started sniffing at the blocks, but Nils pushed it away with his foot, nearly overbalancing and falling over.

He made another noise, nudging Ginger with his shoulder.

“Are we done here?” Ginger asked. Nils nodded. “Where to next?”

Nils led them around, showing them a giant pig and her piglets in a big pen (who practically inhaled the bucket of food and blocks of hay), returning to the shed to get food for the noisy chickens (Ginger actually squealed when he saw the tiny chicks), and the two cows who wandered the yard with the goats already had their food, hay and other plant matter, that they ate through the bars of a circular fixture. Ginger was running back and forth after they’d finished feeding the animals, as if he couldn’t get enough of them all, and though Yates allowed himself to be pulled to and fro, he was more focused on the two men who had appeared by the fence than the animals.

One was fairly tall and dressed in black with hair that matched, and the other was in a wheelchair, chin-length brunette hair sticking out in all directions like a dandelion. He had an eyepatch over one eye and stared back at Yates as the other man spoon-fed him from a bowl.

“Who are they?” Yates tried to ask Nils, but he just made some of his confusing gestures. He accosted Ginger instead, but he was even less interested.

“Who cares? I’m going to see the baby pigs again,” he said.

Yates hesitated. If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t really want to go look at the pigs again. He wanted to meet everybody, to make sure they would be safe here. He looked up at Ginger. “Stay by the pigs? So I can still see you. I want to meet those men.”

Ginger nodded. “I will. Be careful with them. You never know what people can do.”

You never know what people can do. Yates never knew he’d be able to push old men down their stairs. He shook his head hard, going towards the two men by the fence. He wouldn’t think of Stanley.

The wheelchair was similar to Stanley’s, designed to be pushed by another person rather than driven by the user, with its tall back and armrests. But this wasn’t a weary old man; he was… an adult. Yates couldn’t quite distinguish ages. People were children, adults, elderly. This man was probably on the younger side of adulthood. He looked around the age of most trainees: above eighteen, always. All WRU trainers are of legal age. But never too old, no. They had to be young and desirable. He had no collar, of course. He wouldn’t be a pet. But no one here wore collars.

And this man shrank down in his chair as Yates approached, pressing his head down to his knees with his red-gloved hands over it protectively. The man standing smiled, though his expression was guarded. “Hey. You’re the new guy?”

“One of them,” Yates whispered. He felt quieter and quieter when he was separated from Ginger, like he started fading away altogether.

“Yeah, you can’t miss the redhead. He abandoned you then? The animals can be a big draw. Nice to meet you, anyway. I’m Jay. This is Xander.” He gestured to the man in the chair. “He’s kind of shy with new people. Hey, Xand! Don’t you want to say hello? It’s alright, this one looks quiet and docile.”

“I am,” Yates assured them, trying to be helpful.

Xander didn’t move for a moment, but then he slowly sat up. He looked back and forth between Jay and Yates.

“Do you have a name yet, Curly?” Jay asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh well, that’s something you can think about. Don’t worry too much about it here, it’s really okay when you get used to it. We’re doing okay here, eh, Xand?”

Xander just returned his gaze to Jay, staring up at him.

“Are you a bonded pair too?”

“No,” Jay said shortly. He didn’t offer any other explanation and his smile dropped. Yates backed away and ran back to Ginger, terrified he’d upset them.

Ginger, along with Nils, was in the pig pen. Yates gasped. “Ginger! Don’t get your bandages dirty.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ginger grumbled. “We need to think of new names now. Good names. Anyway, never mind that. Look at this pig!” He held up the smallest piglet. “He’s so much smaller than the other ones!”

“Put him down, you’re going to get your hand infected all over again,” Yates cried.

“I’m barely touching him with that hand! It still hurts a lot. Stop fussing. Don’t you want to come in and meet the pigs?” Ginger said distractedly, still with an armful of piglet. He wasn’t looking at Yates. He was grinning right at Nils.

Yates felt his cheeks growing warm. He had a sudden terrible urge to snatch Ginger away from Nils, away from the animals, away from this very house. He’d never had to share Ginger’s attention before. It hurt even more that Ginger didn’t seem to notice, laughing at something Nils did. Making friends without him.

Yates could feel his eyes burning. He wasn’t supposed to cry, but the rules were so weird here, maybe he could. Even so, he didn’t want Ginger to see. Yates turned and trailed back to the house - and the fact that Ginger still didn’t notice made the tears start pouring.

"Excuse me? Are you all right?"

Yates just about had a heart attack. It was David. Yates scrubbed his face hastily. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

"Did something happen?" he pressed on. Yates couldn't detect anger in his tone or face, but he couldn't detect much else either.

“I’m being ridiculous,” he sniffled. “Acting like a jealous child…”

"Well, sometimes people react in ways that are… that they think are absurd. But it's better to just let it happen." He paused. "As long as it isn't a reaction that harms anyone."

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone!” Yates cried - then his face went pale. He started shaking, eyes wide.

David looked taken aback. He looked around as if wanting to signal help.

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Yates insisted, much louder. Don’t think about Stanley, don’t don’t don’t...

"I'm sure you wouldn’t. I was just adding as a general rule of thumb."

Yates didn’t know what that meant. He looked down at his trembling hands. Did thumbs have rules now too?

David fumbled in his bag - would that be called a purse or a satchel? - and handed Yates a tissue. He took it and quickly tried to wipe away any evidence of tears. “I don’t think I’m Ginger’s favourite anymore,” he said mournfully. “He likes those pigs best.”

David was silent for a long moment. "Would you like to sit down? I'll make tea."

Yates decided those kinds of questions could be taken as orders. He sat at once.

"Havin' a tea party, Davey?" That singsong voice… The woman with the baby.

That woman left a moment later, patting her baby's back. She paused and winked at Yates, and he shrank down until she disappeared.

At last, David returned, looking unnatural carrying a tray.

"Make your tea however you'd like," he said, taking his own cup.

“I don’t really know how I like it, sir.”

"Please, just David." He looked at the younger man's mug, patterned with flowers. "Why don't we experiment and find out what you like? In general, do you prefer foods that are very sweet?"

Yates still wasn’t sure. Didn’t David know they were given the barest, blandest food available, if they were fed at all? But he obediently spooned a little sugar and honey into his cup.

"Yes, see if you like that. Add more if you would like, but I would suggest only a little at a time. You can always add more but not take away."

Yates couldn’t understand why they were having such a blasé conversation while he was just mourning the loss of his partner to some stupid animals. Maybe David didn’t understand how devastatingly serious this was. “It’s Ginger who likes sweet things. He’s good at making cakes, doing the frostings.” His words wavered as his eyes filled up with tears again.

"You're speaking as if he's died."

“He’s not dying!” Yates started sobbing in earnest.

David was quiet for a moment. He took the smallest sip of his own tea. "Then it sounds like this problem can be resolved.”

“How?” Yates wept. “I don’t know how! We were just us before. Nobody else.”

"Yes, you're a bonded pair. Tell me, what will happen if you spend an hour or so apart, and then come back together?"

“Well… Back at our old place, we wouldn’t see each other all day. But we’d be chained together at night. It was okay again.”

"Don't you share a room? You'll still be spending nights together."

“Ginger might want to sleep with Nils instead. He’s funny and he knows about animals. I don’t know anything about them,” Yates said glumly. “And I’m not funny. I’m really boring.”

"I'm sure that's not true. But I think while he's preoccupied with the animals, you might like to find something you enjoy. A hobby."

“A hobby.” Yates muttered the word like it was another language. “Just for myself?”

"Yes. Most of the residents - recovering boxies, that is, like you - have hobbies." David sounded like he was making a business proposal, tone very serious and expression unchanging. Yates wasn't sure how he knew this, but David was definitely a businessman.

"I've met two other bonded pairs, one here and one at another property I work with," he went on, "and while they all stayed very close with their former bonded, I think they all found something to do on their own. Two from the same pair have even gotten jobs separately."

Separate. The very word frightened Yates. “H-how..?”

"Well, it took some time."

“I don’t remember… a time when we were separate.” It was like Yates couldn’t even comprehend the possibility.

"I think everyone needs some alone time. Spending time alone doesn't mean you're growing apart. If anything, I think it may help you both."

“How?” Yates burst out. “I don’t want to grow apart!”

David looked at him properly. He looked him in the eye, and Yates realized they hadn't made eye contact this whole time. David hadn't looked at his face much at all.

"Two people will form a sort of bond by marrying. They agree to spend life together, but do they spend every moment of the day together? Do they share every interest and hobby?" David asked. "Identical twins come from the same tiny cell that breaks apart. They develop and are born together. Parents frequently dress them alike and people treat them as if they're one person rather than two. But they are individuals and they typically develop their own identities, establishing their own style, separate interests, take different classes in uni."

“But me and Ginger don’t look alike,” Yates mumbled. He found it hard to grasp what David was talking about. He wished he’d just come out with it.

"You were treated as a single unit, but that's not what you are. You're two individuals. Separate people."

Yates wasn’t really getting the point, and it was clear on his face. Weeks of intense training couldn’t be erased so quickly. Maybe they were two separate people, but Ginger felt like a part of Yates. It felt like Yates wasn’t whole without him.

"Why don't you give hobbies a try? Then when your friend comes back in you can tell him about what you've done. It'll give you lots to talk about."

“What sort of hobbies?”

"Why don't you get to know some of the others and ask? Andromeda knits, Harley likes all kinds of arts and crafts, Priscilla has been able to relearn how to read and she likes poetry and makeup, Crow - well, he won't want to be bothered yet. But everyone will be friendly."

“I can just go up to them? They won’t be angry?” Yates checked.

"They won't, no."

“Okay. Thank you, sir - David.”

David nodded. Yates left the table, going in search of somebody else. Probably Andromeda, if he could find him. At least he made more sense than David.

Yates was struck by the messiness of the place as he moved from room to room; Stanley and Ivy had insisted on keeping a clean and tidy house. This place was chaotically cosy, with bright pictures on the walls and various possessions scattered about. The furniture was clearly high quality, though frequently buried under blankets.

"Hiya!"

Even while he was seeking Andromeda out, Yates jumped when Andromeda greeted him in the hallway.

“Hello, sir. David says I should try some hobbies,” Yates reported.

"Oh, he did?" Andromeda asked. "Do you want to right now, or would you rather not?"

“Well… I don’t really have any other tasks to perform. And Ginger is busy,” he said mournfully.

"It's okay to do nothing for a little while. We can put something on the telly, maybe, or we could try a hobby."

“I’m allowed to watch the television?” Yates seemed a tiny bit brighter.

"You are! Everyone's jealous you have a TV in your room," Andromeda laughed, "but you can watch TV in the living room as well."

“We can give the TV to someone else if you’d prefer,” Yates said quickly.

"Not if you and Ginger enjoy it!"

Yates decided to ask Ginger later. He was sick of making decisions.

"What will it be then?" Andromeda asked, smiling. "Telly or an activity? Or we could even do both."

More decisions. Yates mumbled that he’d like to try watching TV, mostly because he knew you just had to sit there and watch it. He felt exhausted already.

"Living room or your room?"

“Living room?” He said it like he wasn’t sure. But Ginger would have to pass the living room when he came back. He’d see Yates and want to sit with him again…

"Okay! Would you like me to watch with you?"

“Yes please. If you don’t mind, sir.”

"I don't mind at all," Andromeda said cheerfully, walking him back to the living room. David was no longer on the sofa. Yates sat on the floor automatically. Those sofas were fancy, there’s no way he’d be allowed to sit on them.

"Are you comfortable there?" Andromeda asked, perching on the leather cushion.

“I’m perfectly fine, sir.”

He flinched when Andromeda moved suddenly, but then could only blink his eyes in confusion when he found Andromeda sitting beside him on the floor.

"Let's see what's on. Looks like someone was on the wildlife channel, but I take it that's more your friend's style?" Andromeda said, different images flashing across the screen faster than Yates could keep up. "Cooking, baking, cartoons, reality - which is more scripted and dramaticized than real, but if I'm being honest… I love trash TV. Fashion, more reality, more cooking, cartoons again…"

“Why are those ladies choosing such fancy white dresses?” Yates asked, seeing a wedding dress program flick by.

Andromeda went back to the channel. "Oh, those are wedding dresses! They're choosing their outfits to get married in."

“Married?” He’d heard of that, but only when referring to their potential masters back at the facility. Yates knew weddings had giant fancy cakes because Ginger had been taught how to make them - but he’d never realised they had these special dresses too. “That’s what ladies wear to weddings?”

"Mhm. Big white dresses are customary, at least in primarily English speaking countries. Where I grew up, women would usually wear colorful silk with patterns and hats, though the white dresses and veils have started catching on."

“You didn’t grow up here?”

"No, I grew up in Mongolia," Andromeda said, though his accent sounded no different from his own. "Do you know where that is?"

Yates shook his head. He didn’t have a clue where Mongolia was. He didn’t even know which side of a map it’d be on.

"Do you know the seven continents? Asia?"

“Sort of,” Yates said vaguely. The names felt familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. Like déja vu.

Andromeda got his phone out of his pocket. He showed Yates a screen with clumps of green surrounded with blue. "We're here on this little island, which is actually rather big and doesn't feel much like an island. This is Mongolia waaaay over here."

“It’s bigger than here,” he mumbled. “Do you remember it?”

"Mhm. My parents and I moved here when I was twelve."

“Why don’t your parents live here too?”

"Well, they died after coming here, when I was still a kid. And I don't have family in this country so I went into foster care. Do you know what foster care is?"

Yates shook his head.

"When there's no one to look after a kid, they go into foster care where designated caregivers look after them."

“So is David your caregiver?”

"He was. I'm twenty-eight now, well past aging out of the system, so now I'm taking on some caretaking myself."

“Caring for us?” Yates clarified. It still seemed foreign to him. They were the ones trained for caring.

"Mhm."

“But that’s our job.”

"Well right now, both our jobs are to judge that wedding dress."

Yates frowned, but faced the television obediently. “She doesn’t look very happy with it.”

"What kind of clothes would you be happy wearing?" Andromeda asked. Any clothes. Not necessarily wedding."

“Um…” Yates paused. “I don’t know a lot of clothes. Just something comfy?”

"Comfy sounds nice."

“I don’t know what kind Ginger likes. Probably ones with animals on,” he said, a little tartly.

"Do you like clothes? Do you like the design and stuff?"

Yates shrugged. “I’d like to see more of them.”

"So you like this show?"

Yates nodded. He did like it too, he wasn’t just saying what he thought was the right answer. This show was simple. The women came in, picked out a few dresses they didn’t like, then found their dream dress and everybody cried and hugged and went away happy. He liked that.

[miraclealignersv]

No Take Backs (Buck Compton x Reader)

A/n: I don't know why I wrote this but I hope y'all enjoy this. I wrote this half asleep and also should mention that the vows are not mine theyre from a website that generates vows ill add that to my works cited later.

Tag list: @gottapenny @itisjustmethistime @wexhappyxfew @snafus-peckuh @bandofmarvels @medievalfangirl @etainlord

I SUCK AT TITLES I KNOW SHUT UP

Weddings weren't particularly y/n’s cup of tea. Her entire life, she would go on and on about weddings being nothing but a contract and agreement. However, the second her best friend Lucy had showed up at her home holding her left hand proudly wearing an engagement ring and asked if she wanted to be her bridesmaid. Y/n couldn't say no.

”what in the hell did I get myself into Lynn” she groaned running her hands over her face. Buck chuckled and pulled her closer to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they say against the head board of their bed.

”honey, it can't be that bad” he tried to reason, y/n groaned again and rested her head on his shoulder. ”It’ll be great!”

”Just thinking about colors and coordination along with dressed and pretty ribbons- oh dear God, I'm going to die.” Buck chuckled again as he pulled her in closer and placed a kiss on her temple. ”In my opinion, weddings are a waste of time and money,” she shrugged, her eyes darting over to her boyfriend, who processed her words slowly. She could his gears turning in the five seconds of silence.

”So you're telling me that when you and I get married, you don't want the whole fancy thing?” he asked slowly, y/n scrunched her eyebrows together. ”courthouse wedding?” he asked, blue eyes focused on only her as he waited for her response.

”You want to sign a paper that officially states that we're bound together forever?” she asked, eyebrow arched slightly as she pulled away. Buck chuckled, thinking the was joking. But after a few seconds she understood that she was serious.

”you don't want to...marry me?” y/n’s heart broke as she watched the beautiful smile fall from her boyfriend's face. Y/n closed her eyes; she knew the day would come. It took two and a half years for the question about marriage to come up in their relationship. She loved Buck Compton more than anything in the world; she would do anything for him. But marriage, that was something she wasn't sure about.

”Why would I need to sign a piece of paper that states that I will love you forever and ever when I can show you?” she asked, Buck, scoffed and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He slowly shifted in the bed and fixed his pillow before tucking himself into bed, mumbling to himself. Y/n furrowed her brows and watched as he turned his back to her ”Lynn?”

*

The conversation was not forgotten; after it had happened, there had been slight tension within their relationship for a while. After months it had turned into a joke.

The first time Buck had brought it up in he form of a joke, it was when they walked hand in hand downtown. Just weeks before Lucy’s wedding, they came across a poster on a storefront. The poster showing a bride and a groom smiling from cheek to cheek. Buck snickered and pointed to the poster, ”you know what that could be?”

”what?” y/n furrowed her brows and turned to the taller man besides her, laughing to himself he shook his head slightly.

”us but you don't want to sign a contract” he laughed, y/n sighed as she rolled her eyes.

”oh my God lynn”

”c’mon it was funny!”

*

The warm spring day felt perfect for a wedding. Y/n stood in the garden where the ceremony would be held later. She pictured everyone sitting on the fancy chairs underneath the cherry blossoms, watching Lucy and her soon to be husband under the arch made of flowers. It looked gorgeous, the path in between both sides of the aisle filled with rose petals that led to the small platform.

Y/n sighed and continued to walk towards the small building, holding her dress over her arm and her heels in the other. She walked into the building with curlers in her hair and a bare face, only to see the rest of the girls the same way. Lucy getting all dolled up right in front of her gorgeous wedding dress.

She was glowing, a massive smile on her face as the woman who was doing her makeup swiped the perfect shade of pink across her cheeks. Y/n couldn't help but smile and feel happy for her; she could only imagine the absolute excitement her best friend was feeling at that moment.

*

Standing on the small platform, y/n’s eyes scanned the crowd. Family and friends of both the bride and the groom all smiled and watched on as they waited for the bride to walk down the aisle. Her gaze stopped on Buck, who smiled at her from his seat, y/n brought her hand up and gave him a little awkward wave. Her mind is racing to the first time she ever laid eyes on him. Three years before a small barbecue, one of her friends was hosting. George Luz had played matchmaker that day. George was pushing both of them towards each other, watching in amusement from afar as they conversed for the remainder of the party.

She looked down to the grass; she felt guilty that it was her fault there was a divet in their relationship. Like a little wound that would forever be there. Slowly Buck had learned to live with the fact that she didn't want marriage. Even though she loved him, and continuously expressed it with more than words. Lifting her head again she met his blue eyes again, slight sadness withing them.

*

Y/n watched in awe as Lucy and Daniel held hands. Everyone in the crowd watched in adoration, some of them even crying at the beautiful moment that happened right before their eyes.

”As we continue to grow in our lives together, I promise to give you all of my words when needed, to pick you up if you are down, to love you unconditionally, to lay my bare skin on you when needed most, to care for you and our families for as long as we live.” y/n felt her eyes glass over ad Lucy read from the small card in her hands, y/n’s eyes darting across the garden to meet Buck’s. She processed the words her best friend spoke. Understanding that marriage wasn't just a contract. It was a promise. ”...to say I love you before falling asleep each night, to be the best mom I can be as we grow a family together, and to always know in the deepest part of my soul, that when challenges arise we will always find our way back to one another. you are my everything, and this is my promise to you.” y/n felt a tear stream down her cheek as Buck’s face filled with concern. Her mind was blocked from anything else that was said; it was just the thought that ran through her mind.

Not long after their marriage was made official. Y/n hugged the bride and the groom before searching through the crowd. Spotting the blonde man she ran towards him and wrapped her arms around his torso, surprising him he turned quickly.

In from of him stood the live of his life with a guilty expression on her face. Her she's glassy as she stammered to find the right words.

”y/n-”

”shhh, just listen. I love you with my entire soul Lynn. And I know that after that night when we had that little fight you felt a little different I know you did.” she whispered, Buck only looked down at the floor in guilt before trying to speak again.

”are you ending this? Because if you are y/n I don't-”

”Lynn, will you marry me?” she asked, her eyes red and built up with tears. Buck stammered and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, only the pounding of his heart as he processed the question a million times in his hear. He couldn't believe it. ”well don't just stand there now I feel like a fool-” she groaned, thinking the worst. Lynn reached for her hand, still silent.

Looking down at her hands and the glossy nude polish that covered her fingernails, he slowly nodded. Swallowing hard as he tried to keep the lump in this throat down. ”are you getting down on one knee and popping out a diamond ring because you just stole my thunder y/l/n.” he teased, y/n squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss onto his lips.

”ill get you that diamond ring baby” she joked, pulling away before pressing her lips to his. Buck smiled into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around his waist, eyes closing, and chuckling.

”are you getting on your knee or should I say knees?” he teased, that signature smirk of his plastered on his face.

Y/n only gasped loudly and pulled away from his hold, ”is it too late to take back my marriage proposal?” she asked smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she watched the guest walk by. Buck only scoffed and placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

”no take backs” he whispered as he patted her bottom lightly. Y/n gasprd again as she felt him reach for her hand, interlacing their fingers together as they happily followed the rest of the guests.

[daisydukes68-blog]

Dates with the main 6 of the Arcana 💖💙💖💙💖💚

In the Arcana times, there are many ways to have a good time with your new boo. How could they impress you? Where would they take you? How would they show their affection? OH SO MANY UNANSWERED QUESTIONS, shall we start? 🔥🔥🔥

Asra🔮🔮🔮-

Asra. You've known him for a while now of course, you two have been getting close;). But he wants to take things a step further.

Asra, a magician at heart, plans for the very right day to settle this date. When the time comes, he asks you to go star gazing with him.

That night, y'all both walk to the docks, to find a boat waiting for y'all two. You gasp of the site of a picnic basket of your favorite home cooked food, a bottle of wine (a gift from Nadia) and two glasses, one cozy blanket for two at the edge of the boat.

You hug Asra tightly. Why wouldn't you? It seems he put so much thought into this!!! He blushes and rubs your cheek softly.

"Shall we?"

He helps you onto the boat and wraps you in the blanket. He sits on the other side and presents you with the delicious food, and feeds you.

Soon, yall get playful, and you try to see if you can land food slices in his mouth. Takes a few tries but you finally make it in!

Yall both laugh for a while and then he looks at your eyes softly. You can tell he wants to say something, but it seems he's trying to find the right words to use.

"Mc... you just... you look so gorgeous tonight. Your eyes sparkle as these beautiful elegant stars. Your skin looks so radiant under the moonlight. The way you smile, gives me hope of purity in this world," he kisses your hand.

You can't help but blush like crazy. "Asra..."

He looks up, "Gasp, Mc look! That's the constilation i wanted to show you!"

You look up to find your zodiac. Asra finally gets in the blanket with you and cuddles you as y'all both tell stories of the stars ~♡♡♡

Nadia👑👑👑-

Ahhh Nadia. She has been paying attention to you. Seeing your interest, seeing what makes you smile, what you have been wanting for a long time but never have said.

She notices a you astound when you watch as the theaters men announces the new show coming soon. She sees your eyes shimmer with passion.

On the day the theater sells tickets, she goes to buy two for the show. Excited and eager to surprise you, she even buys you a new cute flashy outfit to go with from your favorite shop.🔥🔥🔥

When you come back home, you see a your bed covered with a new outfit with two tickets to the theater today!!!!

You're heart races and you jump with glee. Then you noticed a letter by the tickets-

"To my lovely mc, i do hope you accompany me to the theater tonight. And i hope you adore your new clothing. You deserve it sweetie. I shall see you tonight, love Nadia~♡"

You smile and hug the letter. Save it for memories of course.

That night, you get ready for your date with washing your hair with berries, soaking your skin in natural spring water, and get everything else done by the help of Portia.

"You look great for milady," she smiles.

When you walk outside of the castle, you see Nadia with her blooming essence of beauty, wear an elegant matching colored dress, whjte silk gloves all the way down to her fore arm, and her hair down and wavy, shinning under the moon light.

You just gawk as she smiles. Kissing your cheek and takes your hand as y'all head to the theater.

As y'all watch, you both see Julian preforming. He notices yall two both and winks at Nadia and you.

Y'all two laugh and cry, and even hold each others hands when it gets suspenseful. As y'all hold hands, Nadia turns your face by the grasp of your chin, to softly kiss your tender lips with a blush on her face.

As the show ends, y'all both clap and throw roses at Julian. "My my, and may i thank my two lovely guest Nadia and Mc!" He speaks to the crowd. The light goes to yall two, and the crowd claps for yall two, even whistling. Y'all both blush and smile at everyone seeing Julian finger gunning y'all both.

As you walk Nadia home, she places another kiss on your cheek. You hold her hands and kiss her forehead. "Thank you for a lovely night Nadia."

She smiles, "oh my dear Mc, thank you, for you have shown me a good time and the best of company. I wouldn't want anyone else to spend my time with♡"

Julian 🍺🍺🍺-

Ah Juls. Energetic like always and would do anything to make you smile. He decides to do something diffrent for a change instead of taking you to the rowdy raven, he decides to do something a little more fun.

Y'all go for a walk in the city. Everyone of course greets yall two, y'all are quite well known around these parks.

"See if you can, see if you will! To out smart the amazing magician Asra!!!!"

Y'all both turn to see Asra at a booth with three cups in front of him.

He notices yall, "Hey! Julian, Mc! How are you doing?" He giggles. You and Julian walk forth to him as he has a customer. The man pays 2 coins. "You won't out smart me this time Asra!"

Asra just smiles, "sure sir." He shuffles the three cups faster than lightning. Julian and I exchange glances and smile. The man choose a cup, "this one! I know it!". Asra lifts up the cup the man says with nothing under.

As the man groans and leaves, Asra tells us to sit down. "What's the catch dear Asra?" Julian asks. Asra smiles, "you find the ball under the cup after i mix it. If you find it, you earn a huge stuff animal and 100 coins."

Asra whispers to yoy, "Nadia asked me to do this in order to raise money for animals." He winks.

Julian notices you gazing at the stuffed animal. "Well, as long as it's for charity." He smiles.

"What do you say MC?" He stands and announce to everyone. "Who thinks i can beat the great and powerful Asra?!"

The crowd cheers. Asra smiles and switches the cups around. "That one," Julian points at tge farther rigjt cup. Asra lifts and sure enough, no ball.

"I-," Julian is speechless. Asra winks at you. "How about one more time Julian?" You ask. "I- *ahem* i suppose it wouldn't hurt..."

Asra switches the cups again. This time, you notice he doesn't cheat and makes the ball disappear. "This one," Julian points to the midde.

Asra lifts the cup up

"HAHA! I DID IT!" Julian hugs you tight. Everyone chears for Julian! The crowd roaring.

"Well what do you say Juls?" Asra asks. "Bear, or money?"

Julians gives you a smile. "The bear my good magicain." You hug Julian tight and he blushes.

He gets on his knees, "for you, my Mc, for when i must leave you to my duties, or foe whatever reason that despairs your well being from me, this bear would be here for you." He hands it to you. You cant help but kiss his lips softly.

Muriel ⛰⛰⛰-

Muriel is very shy and usually you take him out to dates. But for once, he wants to do something special for you.

Muriel is really really nervous and he doesn't even know where to start. Asra has given him advice about dates, but still, the thought makes Muriel so nervous...

He paces around, thinking of ideas. Then it hits him... one of the many things he is great at.

Later that night, he asks you to go with him to the forrest. Y'all both walk for a while, until you pass a few bushes to see paradise.

Beautiful river flows by, forrest trees dance with the wind, fire flies spirt around what seems to be two logs and a campfire in the center. You gaze on such a beautiful site, Muriel sees you and smiles slightly to himself

"Come," he mumbles. Taking your hand and letting you sit on a log by his. He sits there for a moment, as almost as you can hear his heart beat. He seems a lil sweaty.

Finally, he mumbles, "i want to carve you".

W H A T ?!

You look at him confused and slightly startled. His eyes widen realzing what he just said. "WAIT- NO, I-"

He blushes really hard and you notice a wood carving stick and a piece of wood. He wants to carve a picture of you. You smile.

He gets up, face very red. He walks towards you and brushes your cheek, concentrating on your features. You can't help but blush.

Minutes later your there posing on your side. Looking at the river, wind swinging through your hair, while the flower crowns, braclets, and even a lil belt flows withen you.

Muriel would carve, look up at you, abd start to carve again. "You know.." he starts. It takes a while for him to continue. Finally, "im not really all that good at this... but no matter how hard i try, i don't think i could never carve the beauty of you perfectly in this carving of you."

You blush like crazy. When he sees you blush he looks away, eyes widen and more red than you. "i mean-!!!" He stops. He looks at his masterpiece.

He smiles and hands it to you. You gasp in amazement. It catches your ever facial features, your body structure, everything. You get so happy you hug him tight with glee.

You give him a huge kiss on the lips and you feel his cheeks warm. He hugs you as you lay your head on his face.

The rest of the night you cuddle by the fire.

Portia😽😽😽-

Portia. Your main girl. She loves you so much, girl can cuddle you forever. Y'all both like to wonder the city.

One day, Mazelinka and her crew find a map of secret treasure!!!!

When Mazelinka tells Portia, her first reaction was to invite you. Of course Mazelinka was more than happy to bring you along!

When Portia tells you about the trip you both pack y'alls things and get ready to set sails!!!!

As y'all board the ship, Mazelinka still has to recruit more shipmates. While she goes to the city, you and Portia are there alone. You hug her tight as she kisses your neck.

She looks around and winks, "Let's have some fun."

Y'all both explore the ship, it's a new one that y'all never been on before. She loves to explore new things. While y'all two look around, you see two ship mates being jerkfaces to a smaller shipmate.

You and Portia hate bullies!!! Portia grows an evil smile. "We can't let them get away with this."

Yall both climb to the top deck. You get the rope and bucket while Portia gets some gross plain oatmeal from the kitchen.

Minutes later, when you see the two shipmates walking to your trap, you signal Portia to get ready.

Both shipmates step onto the center of the circle rope, you give out the signal and Portia drops the bucket. The rope grabbing them two as they fly up as on the other side the bucket comes down filled with stones. The two hang on the air, screaming, "WHO DID THIS?!" "WE WILL KILL YOU!!!!"

Portia signals you, and you grab a mini wooden tub filled with gross oatmeal. You give a thumbs up to Portia and she cuts the rope.

The two sailor mates fall head first into the tub. Y'all both laugh super hard.

You both tie them up to a wooden pole, and wait for Mazelinka to come back.

When she does, she asks what the hell is going on?! Y'all explain everything to her, and she gets mad. She kicks them both out, thanking you, and as for the smaller ship mate, he thanks y'all two for everything.

In fact, he let's yall stay together in his room, filled with a hot indoor bath, comfy bed, with ironically, chocolates and sweet bread.

As y'all both relax in the tub, she leans in, laying her head on your chest. "Today was fun," she smiles. "I always have the most fun with you Mc... thank you for coming to this trip with me. Only you can make this fun for me."

You smile as she kisses your cheek. Later that night, yall both stare at the moon, and let the ocean winds cool y'all while y'all hold hands.

Lucio🐐🐐🐐-

You and Lucio have been kicking it off pretty great lately. He always spoils you with gifts and charms.

One night, y'all two are drinking tea on the castle balcony. He just adores how lovely you look as you drink your tea. He smirks and you ask what's up?

"Just can't help it. You're just too-"

He pauses

"Hot, heh."

You smile. He looks inside and back at you. He stands and pulls you towards him. You question him.

"Why don't we take this indoors darling?" And you let him take you inside. Into his bedroom.

He sits you into his bed. "My dearest mc," he spins and surprises you with a rose in his mouth, sliding his finger up your chin. He spins you and grabs you by the waist.

"Tango with me."

You hear an orchestra playing, coming inside the room. He spins you out and back in, dipping you down. He covers your eyes with his hands, as he motions to the servant to set up the rose petals around the room, lighting up candles, and motions to the orchestra on playing a higher, more energetic tune.

He removes his hand from your eyes. He brings you closer to him as yall dance in squares. He spins you and dips you around.

You smirk. You surprise him by taking the lead. You spin him and lift him in the air. "my my Mc!!! Aren't you a pro"

It's true. Nadias sisters have given you lessons before. You dip Lucio, and as he comes up he pulls you closer till your cheeks touch, arms forward, strancing towards the orchestra. He spins you and catches you as you fall. Spin again as you grab him, wrapping your arms around you, he spins swinging you around as you laugh.

Finally, as the tune end, he dips you on top of him as he lays on the bed.

You feel his shirt open up and see his chest. You can't help but to kiss it softly. He motions for the orchestra to leave, giving y'all two privacy.

Y'all have a full on makeout session, he softly smiles as he nibbles your ear lobe. He claps his hands as servants come to serve him wine. Two glasses are filled as y'all slowly drink together.

He rubs your cheek, "to you, my mc, for many moons later we shall still be together. I shall tear anyone apart who tries to steal you away! Hehe, your too cute, and you get me. You understand me..." he smiles and kisses your forehead. "Without you, i wouldn't be here today my dear."

Y'all two continue to kiss for the rest of the night

Request are still open♡♡♡ feel free to ask anything on my page

[tenshibeth1]

Okay, I'm upset. I had this nice, big post I'd worked on for hours to show y'all...and it's gone. Tumblr ate it. I don't feel like remaking it all pretty and nice-like, so the jist of it is this: I've been working on a Severus Snape x OC fic because it has possessed me. The plot keeps coming up like bile and I can't stop writing. Which is really, really weird because I usually only get to do it in little bits, as per my strange muses. Anyway, my OC is named Cerys, pronounced Kehr-ees, and it's Welsh for 'love' or 'to love'. She has a peculiar ability that travels down the females of her line, and it's like Ligilimency (a spell to invade the mind), but with touch only. She can feel emotions and see memories and whatnot. Anyway, she got into it with a Death Eater and some minions, used the ability in battle and piqued interest, and they captured her and her brother and decided to use him as a reason to keep her with them. And Voldermort doesn't trust her, so what better way to control her than having her under a trusted Death Eater 24/7? She's arranged to marry Severus Snape. Interesting stuff ensues...especially since she had him as a professor at Hogwarts...

My Favorite Parts:

(I'll add them bit by bit so I don't lose this post. ><)

She used to think Severus' eyes were black...only recently had she realized that they were actually a very dark brown. Like the rare brown cat's eye scapolite... Beautiful.

&&&&&&

"Do you realize what this means?" Severus asked as he gazed down into his clear glass of caramel-colored fire whiskey. He doubted she really understood the underlying factors...she had been flippant and careless the entire time the intermediary had spoken with them. Of course, she could just be drunk. There's no telling how long she'd been here before him...and how many fire whiskeys she'd downed...

"Yeah," Cerys replied after a moment, marvelling at the different hues her fire whiskey turned when she held it up to the light. She'd been aware of the arrangements and stipulations and all long before tonight... She waited for Severus to take a drink after he hummed...his hum sounded skeptical. A sly grin unfurled across her face. "It means I'll be fucking my Professor." Almost immediately he began to choke on his swig...and she couldn't help but laugh, her head resting against the hand holding her glass up.

&&&&&&

"Knock, knock," Cerys called into the open door to the Potions classroom as she hefted in a mildly heavy crate full of jarred herbs. "Delivery from Professor Spout." She curiously peered around as she walked towards the front. Hm. Not much had changed since the last time she'd been there. Same shelves, same books, same student desks, same teacher's desk, same podium, same Snape at the podium writing who-knows-what on parchment... Some things were rearranged, though, and there were definitely two new faces at the front desks hunched over a multitude of lines they were being made to write. Detention. Her lips quirked. Ah, good times, good times...

She approached the podium and waited... He was really absorbed in what he was doing. After a long few minutes, Cerys toyed with the idea of putting the herbs up in his classroom closet, herself... But after misplacing three little herbs last time...he'd never let her in his closet again. He never let her live it down... Finally, finally, he looked up at her, down at her package, back at the closet, then cringed. Yup. He remembered.

"Just...put them on my desk," he motioned to the dark wood desk behind him. "I will arrange them later."

"Still as anally organized as you were years ago?" Cerys couldn't help but tease, a grin spreading wide across her face. She carefully set the crate on his desk and slid it back so it wouldn't tip and fall off. "Don't want me to mess anything up, do you?" She turned to find him quirking a brow at her, both boys peeking up at them from their work here and there.

"No...I don't," Severus admitted, and a laugh bubbled up out of her chest. Same old Snape, alright. It made her want to mess with him again... So, her impish grin morphing into a smirk, Cerys backed up against his desk and hopped on, sliding her bum back and getting comfortable. A muscle in his brow and jaw twitched, irritation entering his gaze as hers sparkled with mischief. "I don't recall giving you permission to sit on my desk. If you need a seat, there are plenty of student desks to choose from." He motioned out at the mostly empty classroom, the boys watching more raptly now. Time to show them how it's done...

"You didn't give me permission to sit on your desk," Cerys agreed, her smirk becoming a shit eating grin. "But I'm not a student that can be ordered around. I graduated five years ago, Snapey. And I am still that smartass little shit you remember. Ball's in your court now. How are you going to make me move?"

"Make you move?" Snape repeated sharply, his dark eyes alight with a carefully tempered rage. He put his quill down and fully turned back to Cerys, and the boys behind him were looking at her with wide, horrified eyes. She just grinned and winked at them before returning her attention to the furious Potions teacher before her. Oh...if looks could kill... "Fifty points from Griffindor." His voice boomed through the charged silence, and Cerys' jaw slacked, the grin wiped right off of her face.

"Wait...what?" She started, the blond boy snickering while the other sighed. Slytherin and Griffindor houses, obviously.

"Did I stutter, Webb?" Severus snapped back at her acerbicly, the makings of a smirk curling at the edges of his lips. A frown etched deep into her face.

"That's not fair and you know it," Cerys came back at him. "I'm not in Griffindor anymore! You can't punish them for this!"

"Can and will," he replied with a certain amount of force, looking every bit like the smug, smarmy bastard she remembered he could be.

"Oh!" Cerys scowled as she slid off of his desk and marched right up to him. "Alright, I'm off. You can revoke it now." Severus' brow quirked again and heat burned from her cheeks all the way back to her ears. She took it back. His eyes weren't pretty at all! "Please...revoke it?" She bit out her request, staring down a very amused Snape.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He asked, his tone less harsh now that he had the upper hand.

"Yes, I would, now please do it." She huffed out.

"Hmmm....no," He feigned considering her, a smirk unfurling across his face... Ohhh...Cerys felt the white hot lava rising in her chest. She opened her mouth, but Severus spoke first. "Whose classroom is this?"

"Yours, but--," Cerys began, but was cut off.

"Correct," he interjected before more could be said. "And who is the Professor of this class?"

"You are," she sighed out, irritation bubbling beneath her skin as her anger simmered back to a low boil.

"Correct," Severus repeated, voice as crisp and firm as when she was in his class before... The admonishing teacher voice... "Then doesn't it follow that you should abide by my rules while in my classroom?"

"Yeess...," Cerys droned, thoroughly exasperated now.

"Yes, what?" Severus asked expectantly.

"Yes, Professor Snape," Cerys scowled as she gave him what he was looking for. Only to restore the points. If not for that, ohhh...

"Good...I may consider restoring the points...," he responded, and she let out a relieved breath. It worked... "...or perhaps not." He shrugged as indifferently as she had the night before with the intermediary, something sparking in his gaze as a firestorm kicked up in her blazing blue eyes. "But you will abide by my rules while in this classroom to prevent further deductions. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor Snape," Cerys bit out, clucking her tongue with distaste as she stared him down. If looks could kill...the tables had turned again...

&&&&&&&

"Well…I'll take that as a challenge, then," Cerys grinned up at Severus, her spirits finally lifted. "I'm gonna keep teasing you until you like me." She elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

"And I suppose I shall keep putting you in your place until you learn," Severus replied, his voice firm but not cutting as he took a bite of his ham.

"Learn what, exactly?" She asked, curiosity coloring her voice.

"That you cannot outwit me," he began, peering over at his bride-to-be as she grinned up at him, eyes alight with life and fire once more. At last... "And your place."

"My place, my place...you keep saying that, but what does that even mean?" Cerys asked, mildly frustrated. She knew her place before...when it was just her and Folkert. (Her brother.) She worked, and learned, worked and learned, to be able to make it. To be able to become a proficient witch, and also be able to afford their books and robes and such... "What is my place here and now?"

"If you are to be my wife, your place is at my side...," Severus answered, watching surprise seep into her features. Cerys honestly didn't expect him to say that... "...submissive to me." At that, her eyes widened, and a hint of pink dusted her cheeks. "Perhaps to none else, you are a willful little thing, but you will bend to me." His eyes were dark then, more like burnt new jade, with deep amber flecks near his pupils that almost seemed to glow. Cerys swallowed rather hard, cheeks burning hot, the sheer intensity of his gaze almost too much for her to bear... Her lungs began to burn and she sucked in breath...had she forgotten to breathe...?

Something warm brushed over her hand before she could think more of it, and they all rushed in like a tidal wave... A deep, abyssal darkness whose tendrils rose like fingers, wrapping around her throat and cutting into her chest... Burning! Everything was burning! White hot flames burned in her chest and trickled southward along her spine, filling her hips and that very sensitive place between her thighs...she...she needed...something... Cerys felt...empty. And then came the crash that completely overwhelmed her. A strange emotion she couldn't place... It made her feel diminutive, naked, and weak. Like all of her defenses had been stripped away and left her bare before this...feeling. Had she been standing, her knees would have buckled and she would've hit the ground. Hard. But...strange as it was...it was...sort of liberating. Like all control had been given away, and she didn't have to worry about anything anymore. She didn't have to be strong, or sneaky, or...anything. The burden had been lifted from her  shoulders...and she was free...

Severus wondered if he should have touched her, flesh to flesh, at all. It was an intentional touch...just a taste of what lied within... Her eyes fluttered, rolling back in her head here and again, her breaths coming unevenly. Even after he'd released her. It was almost...like it lingered... "Are you alright?" He asked gently, touching the clothed part of her arm. She inhaled deeply and shut her eyes, the blues hazy when she reopened them.

"Merlin I'm dizzy...," Cerys whispered, swaying in her seat.

[taylor-and-the-boys]

Taylor Rose Charlese (very much like me heh)

Birthday;

October 25, 1998

Astrological Sign;

Scorpio

Birth Place;

Taylor, Texas

Current Living Place;

Manhattan, New York

Physical Attributes

Height;

5’2

Hair;

Wavy, Dirty Blonde, Medium length

Body Type;

Hourglass: Double D breast, Large booty, Thick thighs, Very small waist and Wide hips

Eye Color;

Brown

Skin;

Fair

Age;

20

Species;

Human mutant with DNA some particles of a cat

Mutant Powers;

Uses Light and Dark magic, telekinesis and when she’s angry her eyes turn green and her clothes become black; if she’s very angry her claws and fangs will show as well as her eyes becoming neon green and cat eyed

Fun Facts;

She did boxing for a short time

She wears glasses sometimes but prefers her contacts

She’s very kinky ;)

She can sing, dance, and draw (not very well though)

Wishes to own her own makeup company as well as have a walk in closet

Likes and Dislikes;

Likes;

The scent of vanilla

Favorite food is steak and vegetables

Romantic Dates

Reading

Makeup and Fashion

Animals and Kids

Vanilla cake

Strawberries and Chocolate

Paris

Disney

Dislikes;

People who intend to harm the innocent

Abuse (of any kind)

Pedophiles

Hate (of any kind)

Mental Attributes

Personality;

She is very sarcastic and hot-headed. Being honest she’s a bitch. She is very emotionally strong from all the pain of her past. She is also self conscious thought which makes it hard for her to accept compliments. Once you become her friend you become her family. She will be very loving and protective of you. If anyone hurts you she will hurt them worse. She is also very funny she loves watching people smile and laugh since she was deprived of that when she was young.

Mental Illnesses;

She has anxiety and social anxiety as well as AD(H)D, has PTSD from her past

Sexuality;

Demisexual: “Is a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form an emotional connection. It's more commonly seen in, but by no means confined, to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being "halfway between" sexual and asexual”

Bisexual: “Is sexually attracted not exclusively to people of one particular gender; attracted to both men and women”

A bit of and open to Polyamory: “Is the desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy"

Family and Friends

Parents;

Mary Lynn Charlese, Davis Taylor Charlese

Extended Family;

(uncle) Hank Ray Jefferson (aunt; mother's sister) Alexandria Rea Jefferson

Siblings:

Morgan Danielle Charlese (17) , David Arnold Charlese (24)

Friends;

Beau Alex Manson, Katie Joyce Charlese (married to David), Tony Blake Miller, Rylie Lane McMane, Joshua Oliver Jones

Family Friends;

Sargent Daniel James, Meriam Charlotte Smith

Backstory

Taylor was born in Taylor, Texas on October 25, 1998, with her older brother David who is 24 and her younger sister Morgan who is 17. As she grew up her life was not easy. When she was 5 years old she was kidnapped and moletesed but since she was very young she doesn't remember that happening. Then when she was 6 years of age her babysitter who was an older male touched her and said things to her that traumatised her. After that her mother and her close friend Meriam (who was there for her mom when Taylor and her siblings were born) wanted to protect her. So at age 7 she took Taylor to a secret society that studied magic or the unnatural. In this society there was mutagen which was later injected to protect the last known amount from getting into the wrong hands as well as help Taylor. On the day of getting the injection her father was mind controlled to go crazy and shoot her mother. Taylor had watched it happen which scarred it into her mind. That was the last time Taylor ever saw her mother. After that her father became very abusive to Taylor and her siblings. Taylor would become very protective of her brother and sister. Whenever their dad would try and hit them Taylor would step in and take the abusive for David and Morgan. Sometimes her Dad would drink so much that he would pass out for hours. One day when he passed out from a hangover a tornado came. Taylor decided to not wake him up. She locked her and her siblings into the basement. When the storm ended Taylor and her siblings went to live with their Aunt Alexandria. She taught them about life and continued to help Taylor with her powers and how to control them. When Taylor was 10 she was bullied about the way she looked. She had gone through puberty before everyone else. The boys would grope and be very inappropriate to her. The girls would call her a slut or whore because she would get a lot of attention. When she would push the boys away they would call her lesbian, fat or ugly and many more hurtful things. At the same time her aunt had died because of a heart surgery going wrong. Taylor had went into a very very deep depression. She couldn’t go to school without being called a baby. When her aunt died her Uncle Hank put David and Morgan into adoption homes never to see Taylor again. She later found out that Hank was the head of a Gang and he made his money off of soliciting young girls. He was very abusive to Taylor. If she didn't want to do something he would scream and hit her. On one faithful day the cops caught her uncle and sent him to jail. That is when Taylor met Sargent Daniel James. He put her into an adoption home and made sure to keep her safe. Sadly though Taylor was never adopted. When she was 14 she got mixed up with some bad people on the streets. She moved to New York with her “friends”. There she got everything she thought she wanted and she started high school. She went onto a site to meet more friends but then got caught up in more trouble. She met a guy that she thought loved her but he didn’t he only wanted her body. He forced her to send nudes to him and make him cum. One day when she was 16 he kidnapped her and forced him to marry her. Before the day of their wedding she poisoned him resulting in his death. If she didn’t he would come and find her and possibly hurt her. After that she forced herself to start a better life. She got good grades in school and graduated with a 4.1 and top of her class. Even though her highschool life wasn't easy she got through. She made better friends who would help her through everything. She also moved in with an old friend of hers Katie. Who she had known her her whole life. She talked to some of the police in NY mainly with Sargent Daniel Jones and asked them to help her find her siblings.

NOTES;

That is my OC (who has some parts of me) I hope y'all liked her maybe I would be open to any rps in messenger if ya want please do not be inappropriate towards me (mun) and ask for NSFW request