#teddy and teagan

[closingwaters]

TIMING: Today, Afternoon

PARTIES: @eldritchaccident @closingwaters

SUMMARY: On the way to try to get some treats to the Wormmates, Teagan runs into Teddy and they set out to finish the bridges together. It's a gooey mess.

WARNINGS: None

It was ominous, walking around town and seeing the petrified faces of people frozen in time. Their last moments forever etched onto their visage for all to see. It made Teagan bristle, the eerie energy causing a sharp, cold shiver down her spine. Perhaps venturing out to get a pumpkin treat wasn’t the best idea, but being cooped up in the cabin with not even the ability to see Wynne or Arden was beginning to drive the nix mad. The video calls helped, if only a little, to quash the discomfort that came with the creeping loneliness.

“Okay…” Teagan sighed, eyes widening and her mind growing alert at the sound of something skittering about in the darkness of the alley by the building she was trying to get to. Another shiver crawled beneath her skin, and she quickly made her way into the shop to make her mission quick. She was happy to find that there wasn’t much of anyone around, making quick work of buying everything that looked tasty. Which was to say, Teagan bought one of almost everything. 

She figured if she could get to Wynne and Arden’s apartment, they’d be happy to have a new snack, so she left the business quickly and got her driver to get as close to the goo as he could. Teagan was disappointed to find out that he couldn’t get very close at all. She was left blocks away from her destination, and now that skittering sound was behind her. 

Looking around, nothing seemed out of place. Just more buildings and a few passerby, but there was one who caught her attention. They looked like they were on a mission, heading straight toward…a fire escape? Teagan made her way to them and tapped their shoulder, giving them a quizzical look. “Excuse me, what are you doing? Are you trying to get into Worm Row?”

The conversation online with Emilio had been light, jokey, jovial. A bit more “I plan to prove you wrong” than the actual “I’m fucking terrified that anything would happen to you, Wynne, or Arden” that it was. Teddy abandoned all research almost immediately. The ritual was not a fixed point. It would happen whenever it would happen and Teddy would die and it would be fine because the world didn’t need people like them. It needed people like Emilio who could actually help save people. It needed the kindness of people like Wynne. It needed the hardheaded curiosity of people like Arden. 

The car (finally retrieved after weeks of avoiding the place where they were duped and subsequently had a brand new part of themself chopped off) was puttering along with the weight of the beams and boards. Comically sticking out the front right and back left window of the little yellow volkswagen beetle, they added yet another challenge to the road. Avoiding the large puddles of goo, avoiding the people who had been petrified by… touching it? It was hard to say what they were doing, only that their frozen faces made for an incredibly eerie sight. 

Ted had to stop a few blocks away, and had already made a few trips up and down with the lumber after finding a fire escape that wasn’t coated in the viscous substance.They weren’t expecting to find anyone else here, and certainly weren’t expecting anyone so… calm? The blonde was a little shorter than them, looked a little spooked, but more confused than anything. 

“Ah– yeah” There voice was still pretty raw and ragged. They hadn’t actually spoken to anyone out loud since the incident with the stranger. Void below, they knew they weren’t talking to Levi. Too scared to make the disappointment greater, or to somehow make a bigger mess. Getting in their own head about it. The tail was the same. Why tell anyone when it was their mistake? Their fault. Most thirty-five year olds know not to get into cars with strangers. Not Teddy. 

“Few of my friends are trapped in an apartment.” They continued, eyes flicking between the bright spot of yellow just a few yards behind the woman. “I’m building a way to get them out.” 

Teagan’s curiosity was piqued, a wave of sympathy also washing over her features once she registered how tired the stranger looked. Perhaps she could help them conquer their mission while subsequently doing the same for her own. The more hands they had, the better. At least, that’s what Teagan thought.

“I…” She trailed off, the skittering distracting her once again. What in Fates was that? Couldn’t be a hunter, could it? No, that wasn’t it. Rolling her shoulders, Teagan refocused, blinking the paranoia away. “Well, I-Sorry. Bit distracted, I guess.” She took a deep breath, shifting the bags of treats around from one arm to the next. “I also have some friends stuck in an apartment. My girlfriend and her roommates.” Raising the treats, she presented what she wanted to deliver. “Wanted to try and get to them so they could have some treats to pass the time.” 

Skitter…patter, patter…screech!

There was that noise again, only it was accompanied by others far more eerie. Teagan tried her best to keep her composure, moving on from the sounds quickly. “I’m Teagan, by the way. My people are in that apartment over there.” She pointed, "The one with the bricks missing at the top.”

Teddy was far too focused on their task and distracted by the woman (and her melodious accent) to notice the skittering. There had been noises all over during these treks. But nothing had come close enough to warrant a second glance. The rescue mission was far too important. The same one, apparently, that she was on. “Teagan!” Their expression brightened. “You are in luck my new friend cause that’s right where I’m headed to.” A wry laugh escaped the demon as they visibly relaxed. For some reason, the idea of having two sets of hands and two pairs of eyes trying to engineer their way across made the whole thing a lot easier. Hell, even just having someone there to talk to while they did it would make it better. 

“I’m Teddy. Trying to un-stick two of the nicest people I know and one of the grumpiest, but still the best.” A compliment added, as if the sullen slayer was going to somehow hear the joke, and choose to stay behind. Sounded like something he might do honestly. Spite worked overtime for Emilio Cortez. “Who are your friends? What apartment in there? Don’t tell me it’s Jeff. No offense if it is but that guy is the worst.” They met the man like once, and it was not pleasant. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Teddy.” A grin spread across her face and she tucked her hair behind her ear. Their energy was welcomed, a bright and warm thing. Teagan couldn’t believe her luck that they both had the same destination. “So I’m guessing those boards are to make some sort of bridge then, eh?” She chuckled, a bit hopeful. With two people working on such an endeavor, the task would surely be done that much quicker.

“My friends are definitely not Jeff. Besides, I’m a lesbian. Would not have a man to save.” She scrunched her nose playfully, placing the bags of treats on the sidewalk. The chittering was much easier to ignore then. “My girlfriend is Arden, and her roommate that I know is Wynne. Don’t know the new additions. My focus is really those two.” Teagan shrugged, turning back to Teddy with her hands on her hips. “So,” She walked up to them, eyeing the boards. “Ya gonna let me help or what?”

"That's reductive, lesbians can be friends with guys." Teddy replied with an obvious grin on their face and a laugh in their heart, as they extended a hand towards Teagan. "And yes, bridge making. Got the first bridge to that building up and secured. Almost got all the materials up and over to get to their place." The demon paused for a second, gleefully balked, and began to bounce in place. Their hands joined, excitedly dancing because they just couldn't keep them still. Just absolutely incredulous at the sheer luck that they'd run into someone trying to get to the same people. 

"Yeah!! Wynne and Arden!!" They were practically jumping up and down by that point. Giddy and filled with an energy they'd been lacking the last few weeks. Teddy motioned for Teagan to follow and grab the last load of lumber from the car. "And my bud Emilio too, but man. Small world. Or town I guess. I'm hella happy to have a hand. You have no idea how many screws I lost to the goo trying to hold them, the boards, and the drill all at the same time." 

Teagan snorted, shaking her head and covering her face with faux bashfulness. It quickly turned into glee that matched her new friend’s, the two of them bouncing as realization took them both. They were like kids who’d had too much candy, kindred spirits feeding into one another despite the way acid began to build and ache in Teagan’s throat at the mention of Emilio. Arden and him were friends, and it was just the way it was. She’d tolerate him if it made her happy. It’s not like she had to speak to him to help save him anyway.

Quickly following Teddy, the nix put the muscles she had been refining with Andy to use. Balance was getting easier to manage, and in a matter of two hours, the pair had created sturdy paths. There was just a small stretch left, but Teagan needed a moment before they continued. 

“Need a short break. Getting hard to keep my eyes open.”  She laid on the ground and attempted to slow her labored breathing from all the work. Teagan’s sleep hadn’t been the best since having Arden in her bed wasn’t an option, and it didn’t feel right to use the quilt while her partner suffered. “I won’t be long. Once I’m good, I’ll grab the treats and we’ll make our way to victory.” She offered Teddy a tired grin, looking up at them a moment before she closed her eyes to rest. It was supposed to be for just a minute or two, but before Teagan knew it, sleep overcame her, glamour falling completely.

Well that was a little unexpected. Not completely, not in a town like Wicked's Rest, but the… well she must have been a nix or a nereid right? She was so exhausted that she conked right out. In a way, Teddy felt a swell of pride that Teagan felt comfortable enough to do that in front of them. Unless it had been unintentional, the actually sleeping part. Taking a quick breather and taking a nap were two very different things. Ted had to admit, they were feeling the adrenaline begin to wane. They still hadn't recovered from the mines, or the incident with the—

Shit. 

Teagan's tail! 

It was sliced not too differently from Teddy's own. The demon removed their cherry red glasses, dropping the illusion that they were human too. Blue skin, bright teal eyes, sharpened canines. Their more aquatic features were unfortunately hidden beneath their shirt and shoes, but the webbing between their fingers was enough to show the kinship. Part of them wanted to wake the sleeping fae and ask her all about it, what she remembered, how did she get away? But it was clear she was exhausted, they were too. But goddamn how many similarities did they share with this lady? Using all the patience at their disposal, Teddy waited. Sitting beside her protectively as the minutes passed. 

The nap was dreamless, thankfully, and when Teagan finally woke up, she jolted up. She immediately glamoured herself, goosebumps raised at the way she stupidly fell asleep. For all she knew, Teddy was human, and she very well could have put herself in danger. “Teddy?” She looked all around herself, eyes landing on something else. No, it was someone else.

A toothy grin began to spread across the nix’s face, realizing that many of Teddy’s more human features reflected in their new ones. They were beautiful, absolutely magnificent, and Teagan couldn’t help but pounce forward to tackle them into a hug. “I’ve never seen someone quite like you! Dear me, you are gorgeous!” She kissed their cheek, nuzzling into them while she let her glamour fall again as if she’d known them for years. 

“What are ya? Can’t be fae. Don’t sense you.” Scanning Teddy, her smile grew further, heterochromic eyes gleaming. Maybe they weren’t a nereid or nix, but the webbed hands and texture of their skin was enough to scream that they were a child of water. “Oh this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?! We can-we can save our people and then-and then—” Teagan was far too giddy to finish her thoughts for a few beats, squealing with excitement before gasping with an idea. “We can get the treats and come back up to gather our strength with some food and conversation! Yes! Magnificent! What say you, darling?” 

A joyous laughter echoed through the alleyway, muffled only by the leagues of goo that lurked around the corners. Teddy hadn’t expected quite that reaction either but it was welcome. Few people expressed their bliss so vividly, and Teagan was technicolor. “There ain’t anyone else like me in the whole ‘verse.” The demon returned her affection by wrapping long gangly arms around her, rustling her hair like she was a kid sister or something before bonking against her forehead slightly. 

“Don’t meet too many nixies or nereids on land. You can absolutely smack me for this but I genuinely can’t remember which axolotls are from. That’s what you– Fresh or salt I mean. They’re like salamanders right? So probably freshwater but–” Teddy was jabbering, making a bit of a fool of themself. But when weren’t they? Couldn’t help that they were just overflowing with excitement. Only magnified by the exuberance on display. “Ah I mean, you’re the expert, clearly just look at you!” She was beautiful. It took a hell of a lot of restraint to not want to run off and go find somewhere to swim together. 

Ah, but… Well that brought back an unfortunate realization. Teddy’s expression soured, combined with the second question and the unavoidable response if they wanted to give her the truth. Which they did. She deserved that. But not even Arden knew about Ted’s probability of untimely demise. It felt too heavy a thing to place on an already full plate. “The answer is a long story, and might be ending soon anyway. But don’t you worry about that. We have lovely people to save and treats to deliver.” There was a pause, and Teddy’s attention flicked away again. Maybe it was an excuse to change the subject, or maybe it was curiosity peaking once they saw the blunt cut on Teagan’s tail from a different angle. 

“That wasn’t an accident, was it?” It was the first of their statements that sounded sure. Sounded like they knew something else, the context without knowing her or what happened to her. “I thought I was the only one– I–” Teddy offered something of a sympathetic smile. “We can talk about it later though, you’re right. We should save our people first.” 

Teagan snorted, shaking her head and connected her forehead to Teddy’s. “Oh, you’re so lovely that I’m gonna let that slide.” When she pulled away, she offered another smile, “I protect freshwater bodies, so we’re clear. And yes, like salamanders, indeed.” Rolling her lips over her teeth, Teagan licked her lips and continued to smile, watching the way Teddy met her with the same level of noise. It truly was as she thought; water, salt or not, was all connected. Her new friend didn’t need to be fae to be kin. But her smile quickly faltered at the mention of her tail, and Teagan looked down to avoid Teddy’s gaze. 

“Aye.” She sighed shakily, “Not an…not an accident.” The image of the hunter crashed through her mind, and Teagan wrung her fingers together to deal with the overwhelming anxiety that began to eat at her body. When Teddy continued, cementing themself further as her kin, Teagan let out a choked sob, trying her best to hold back the tears. And they were right. They could talk about it later. With people to save, conversation mattered very little. “Right. Let’s, um…let’s grab the bag of treats and then finish up. Been seeing people eye the bag anyway.” She smiled wanly, cupping Teddy’s face briefly before turning and heading back to the road. Luckily, the bag was still untouched despite how much time it had been left alone.

“All right…” Teagan picked up the bag, eyes still misty and red from her sorrow threatening to rush out. She hoped her smile was enough to show that she was trying to move past it. “The treats are—” Skitter, skitter! There was that sound again. “Did you hear that?” The nix’s head whipped around, finding nothing moving about. Nothing. Nothing that could cause that sound. She shuddered, wanting to leave. The goo was making her uncomfortable, probably getting to her, she thought. “Forget it. I-um…yeah! Treats. Let’s g—” Screeeeech!

“What fuck is…!” A gooey creature latched onto the fae, causing her to stumble back. She caught her footing enough to not fall into the goo, much to her relief. “Twll dy din!” Speaking in her native tongue, Teagan attempted to get the claws off of her, but the creature persisted, forcing her to scramble about and drop the treats. Its legs dug into her body, finding painful purchase in her flesh. She winced and tugged, frantic to get the thing off of her as she noticed it’s goo hardening on her skin. “Teddy! I—” With one more attack to her face, Teagan fell backwards, landing herself in a pool of goo and sending the creature somewhere else. Fear overcame her, and she stood quickly only to realize that her entire body, even her face had been covered. She was lucky that the hand that once carried the treats had remained untouched, and she quickly reached out for Teddy. 

“Teddy, it’s hardening. I can’t move my legs.” Her voice remained oddly calm, but her body betrayed her. It trembled, continuing to tug, to fight for survival. After all, that’s what Teagan did. She survived. But maybe, she wondered, maybe that was the ending she was always meant to have. Maybe she doomed Arden from the beginning because monsters didn’t get happy endings. It was awful, really. She wanted to live, and for the first time, she was beginning to process and try to heal. Reach that life her and Arden dreamed of. It was a cruel fate, but it was a battle she was quickly losing while her outstretched arm became rigid. “Teddy. Listen to-to me. Give this ring on-on my hand to Arden. Please. Tell—” Her lips were getting harder to move, her breath quick and frantic. “Tell her I love…” She trailed off, no longer able to speak. Frozen and damned, with only a dangling, clawed hand remaining free. 

In an instant the moment shifted. Going from one of mirth and shared exuberant experience to a nightmare of panic and ichor. Teddy didn’t have time to react properly, their seated position and strain on their already tired muscles made them slow. “TEAGAN–” Too slow to do anything about the insectoid creature that leapt from the shadows and onto their new friend’s face. Shock wiped the smile from their face as they tumbled forward trying to grasp for Teagan as she was pulled backwards and then– then… 

Before the demon could blink, the goo was… encasing her. Changing her. Siphoning life from each spot where it touched. “No no– C’mon NO. NO PLEASE. FUCK.” Their voice was raw, ragged. Screams loud enough that the apartment next door would probably have heard. Enough that Emilio definitely would have. Enough that the dumbass slayer would try and come to their ‘rescue’ if they didn’t get up on the roof to show that they were alive. “We’re gonna–” They choked on tears and panic.  “–gonna get you out of there.” They’d been able to save Ted from the crystals, maybe this was the same maybe it was– 

Teddy’s breath hitched in their chest, hyperventilating while somehow not getting any air at all. Their head whipped around to find the bug, still skittering around nearby. It seemed smug, almost. Or maybe that was just how their brain interpreted it. Carful to not touch the vile thing, they grabbed the closest blunt object, a spare board they hadn’t needed to bring up the fire escape and swung it with every ounce of supernatural strength left in their body. It crunched and squished into a fine paste, but Teddy kept slamming the board down anyway. Fury rising up where it normally lay dormant. 

The alley was too quiet after that. All that was left of Teagan was the hand, clawed and pinkish white. Teddy grabbed for it, carefully. They slipped the ring off, and looked at her frozen face with shaky eyes. “We’ll figure this out. You’ll tell her. You can do that, you have to be able to do that and– it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get them out of there, I’m gonna keep them safe– I’m sorry.” They couldn’t take their eyes off the statue. Couldn’t bear to. It was only the thought of losing anyone else to this mess that finally pulled the demon from this awful impromptu vigil. 

They were going to fix this. They had to. 

[oceansrevenge]

Marina and Teagan with a Teddy in the distance.

Thank you so much @eldritchaccident for the absolutely stunning art and bringing Marina's true form to life exactly how I imagined.

Aside from being INCREDIBLE, this is a reference for what Marina's true form looks when she's not using a glamour.

[stolensiren]

famous last words // teddy, emilio, teagan, patricia, macleod, metzli, & cass

TIMING: just before midnight PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli @eldritchaccident @yourlocalbrawler @teaganmyrick @monstersfear @braindeacl @stolensiren SUMMARY: metzli, macleod, cass, patricia, teagan, teddy, and emilio all prepare to leave town together, but are stalled by the realization that something isn't right. metzli finds a solution, and everyone wishes there were a different one. CONTENT: sibling death, parental death

“It–it didn’t work.” The earth continued to rumble and crack, the lightning of concrete and dirt growing with each thundering pulse of energy from White Crest. Metzli stood there, watching helplessly, unable to coordinate another plan as everyone stood behind them. Cass, Teddy, Emilio, Teagan, Patricia, and Eilidh agreed to ensure the plan worked, to stay just outside the town’s boundaries in case they needed to step in or keep running. 

And it was so funny, wasn’t it? Decades of being a strategist, with backup plan after backup plan, and now, when the world was ending—arguably the most important moment in Metzli’s life—they were coming up with nothing. “It was supposed to work! I don’t understand! Twelve sacrifices for each hour. All the books—Leah said—fuck! Fuck!” Abigail and Lil, and all those people had given their lives, believing they were doing the right thing. The very thought made Metzli sink to their knees, their heart aching and wishing for some other way. “All those volunteers…it was supposed to—”

Then, it hit them.

“The thirteenth hour.” Metzli practically whispered to themself, rising to their feet and stumbling as dry earth burst open. The sinkhole was going to reach the city limit if they didn’t act fast. If Metzli didn’t do something. “We forgot about the thirteenth hour. Teagan–you were in it.” She nodded with her brows furrowing together, as if she knew where they were going with their thought. She did. She looked down at Eilidh with a somber expression, not saying a word as Metzli continued. “You and that Sol guy, right? If it exists, it has to be the missing part. We need…” Their eyes fell at the realization they knew no one would want to say aloud. Avoiding everyone’s faces, Metzli continued, preparing for the inevitable rebuttals. Especially on Eilidh’s part. Maybe even more especially on Cass’s. “There has to be one more…sacrifice.” The final word hung heavy in the air, and Metzli didn’t lift their head. Doing so would make them think twice, and there just wasn’t enough time for that.

Eilidh was the first to surge forward, putting together what her partner was really saying. Her nails dug impossibly deep into their skin, drawing blood, and Metzli could’ve sworn they felt them in their heart. The two of them were supposed to have a new start, and they were effectively telling her they never would. Her screams filled their ears, her pleas making it nearly impossible to submit themself to what they needed to do. Whispering sweet nothings in her ears, she clung to them, and they finally rose their head to acknowledge everyone they loved, tears streaming down their fearful expression.

Rhett was dead. The ground was shaking, the world was ending, Rhett was dead, and it felt so much like Etla that Emilio could see Jaime’s body in the street just a few feet away staring at him with unseeing eyes. Nausea tugged at his gut, and it took everything he had just to keep his goddamn lunch down, just to keep himself standing on his own two feet. 

And the worst part, he thought, was that it was all for nothing. Rhett stayed behind to play the fucking hero, did the exact goddamn thing he’d forbidden Emilio from doing, and it was all for nothing. Emilio lost the only brother he had left for nothing. The world was still ending. They were still going to die. It might have felt like a relief if he weren’t so goddamn angry about it.

Metzli was speaking then, and it took a moment for Emilio to tune back in to the conversation, took a moment for him to pull himself back into the present and away from the bodies in the street that had rotted away to dust in another country years ago, but when his mind caught up, he understood what they were saying. 

Twelve people stayed behind. And there should have been one more.

Immediately, Emilio stepped forward. He locked eyes with Metzli, tilting his head in a silent question. He’d do it, if he had to. He’d be breaking a million promises — to Rhett, to Teddy, to people no longer around to care, but fuck, it’d be worth it. He chose to live. He chose that. Maybe it didn’t matter if he didn’t stick to it. Maybe choosing it once was enough.

The ground trembled beneath her feet, and Cass stumbled in a wild attempt to stay upright. It should have stopped by now, shouldn’t it? All those people who’d stayed behind, all those people who’d given everything to stop it… It should be over by now. The fact that it wasn’t was bound to be a bad sign, and maybe — maybe they all should have known better. Maybe they should have realized that things couldn’t be this simple. 

Maybe some things weren’t meant to work out.

Cass’s heart was in her throat, because she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to fall into a hole in the world where no one would ever find her, didn’t want her life to end when it felt like it had really only just begun. Superheroes died for their causes, sometimes, but in the comics, they always came back after. Death wasn’t so temporary in reality. 

But then, Metzli came to a realization that was almost worse, somehow. They spoke, and Cass felt her stomach clench because she knew exactly what they were saying. She stepped towards them a moment after the hunter holding Teddy’s hand did, eyes sliding nervously to the man as she shuffled a little farther away from him and locked her gaze onto Metzli’s. 

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Metzli, no. You — You said we were going to leave together. You promised that. Let someone else do it.” She didn’t mean to glance back to the hunter as she said it, but maybe she did anyway. “You get to live now. You get that. Please, Metzli.”

The crumbling canyon before them was a ripping, yawning, hollow thing. Bleakly mirroring the expressions on those who stood around the edge. Teddy heard, yes. Teddy processed the meaning moments after the words came from Metzli’s mouth. His grip on Emilio’s hand and stubborn feet maybe the only thing keeping the hunter from rushing in without even knowing what he was going to even do about it. Teddy was doing it again. Flushed cheeks on a paling face. Slowly becoming about as ghost white as the crackles of energy that seeped up and out of the ground before them. Stuck in his spot. Unable to move. But if it wasn’t fear that was keeping him rooted, what was it? Despair? Rage? 

The florist (Well, was it even fair to call him a florist anymore? Twice now his shops had been swallowed completely by something all consuming and unstoppable. At least this time they weren’t alone. Though that thought was far more bitter than it should have been.) echoed the younger girl’s words. “No.” Firm, hurt, but lined with a breathy desperation that threatened to tumble outward should he say anything else. He finally forced himself to look over. Too much distance and too many people he loved stood between him and his appa. Fuck. Teddy was just getting used to that. To family. Each face painted a different portrait of grief. Emilio’s loss of another brother, Cass and the home she’d finally built for herself, Eilidh and the life they were about to create. And Metzli. Something determined and sad behind those eyes. A hungry thing Teddy recognized immediately as resolution. 

“There’s gotta– anyone else. Please. There’s so many people out there who could– anyone else.” It was pretty clear. The people there were among the few Teddy Jones would do literally anything for. Except allow them to die. Except allow them to be the final sacrifice in a pyrrhic victory against the town that raised Ted. The town that was set to raze the rest of the planet if someone didn’t intervene. There had to be another way. Anything. Anything would be better than losing a single one of them. 

— 

Despite the ravenous trembling of the ground beneath her, Patricia’s feet remained planted, looking on at the city that had attempted to make a massacre of its own population. It took her a bit longer than it should’ve to realize what Metzli was implying, what grim resolution to the problem they’d come up with, but it still hurt all the same. They were a close friend, one of the closest besides Teagan, and somebody she thought would become a parent-in-law someday in the future, but like all things, that innocent thought was cut short. Life was unfair, and cruel, but those words were understatements for the irony of Metzli sacrificing themself after already having given so much to the town and its people. 

A stunned silence washed over Patricia, the torrent of thoughts in her mind serving to silence the group’s pleading and denial. When she thought of putting herself in their shoes, she knew she couldn’t do it. There was no way she would leave Teagan and Daisy to give her life for the rest of the world. She knew just how selfish that was, but she didn’t allow self-pity to derail her thoughts. If anyone could do this, it was Metzli, that’s just the kind of person they were. They’d give their all until the last drop of blood was spilled.

Rather than a sob or a cry escaping Patricia’s lips as a tear streamed down her cheek, a grim chuckle instead left in its place. The feeling of disbelief fused with the sudden realization that it had to be Metzli, into a feeling of amusement at the irony of the situation. What else was there to do when all others wept for their closest friend? “Always gotta be the damn hero, don’t you Metz? If you’re going to go out, might as well go out swinging.” The world in front of them was emptying out, crumbling into nothing before their very eyes, but with a single realization Metzli proved that they were willing to charge forth into the void with a final defiant gesture. “Make it count, because there won’t be a single person who survives this that won’t miss you every damn day.”

There wasn’t much else to say. The group of people surrounding Teagan had every reason to refute what Metzli was saying, but even with how horrible the answer was, it was the answer. However, she did find herself wanting to fight back with the rest. If not to preserve a kind heart’s beat, then for her mother figure, Macleod. The love of her life was giving everything away, tossing out any possibility of the happy ever after she felt her mother deserved. But then, the love of her life spoke up, speaking in a way that would most certainly get her chastised. 

“C-cariad.” Teagan pulled Patricia closer to retreat to the back of the group, her voice still cracking from her time in The Ring’s basement. Her neck still bore the evidence of the horrible conditions she was under, and she was still weak from her time away from Dark Score, but there was an undeniable strength in the way she managed to get Patricia where she wanted. “They might h-hit you. Wanted to protect you.” She whispered hoarsely, confident that Patricia would still hear. “May be best to k-keep quiet for now. People in mourning. Denial.” Teagan looked at Cass then, the biggest and most frequent offender of denial. She did it best, and Teagan has experienced first-hand more than once. 

Everyone spoke together, refusing to accept the solution in front of them, just as expected. Metzli’s face contorted into a mixture of grief, frustration, and fear, the knowledge that they were wasting time heavy on their entire body. “Guys—please, can we just—” Then, Patricia, of all people, was tearfully chuckling, and they couldn’t help but scoff in kind. She not only understood what they were saying, but accepted it. There was no way they’d let Emilio give his life, and there was no changing Metzli’s mind, and she knew it. 

“No, guys. No.” Metzli propped Eilidh an arm-length away by her shoulder, hoping to help her see that their solution was the correct one. She continued to argue, to kiss them and beg them to let someone else do it, but Metzli simply shook their head. It wasn’t easy on their part, by any means, though it may have looked like it was. They had coordinated so many plans, were looking forward to a life full of love and adventure, and now…there was no chance. All of that was being given up so that everyone they loved could have that instead. It would hurt, it would ache indefinitely. But to Metzli, that fate was far better than having nothing at all.

Looking to the rest of the group, Metzli could see a tsunami of emotions crashing together, further increasing the difficulty of their decision. Eventually though, they found their resolve. “Emilio, you’re not giving your life. You haven’t lived long enough to make that decision so easily. Teddy and Cass, I know this is hard. I know. But who else will it be? Who else has had their chance at life? I’ve lived over a hundred and fifty years. I promised, I know. And you know what?” They chuckled in disbelief, shaking their head. “I did. I worked so hard to get out of here with you all. I kept my promise, and now I’ve gotta make good on my promise to love and protect you.”

“Metzli…” Emilio’s voice was low, quiet. He wanted to argue that they had more to live for than he did, but Teddy’s grip on his hand reminded him that that wasn’t quite true. And there was something unspeakably cruel about that, wasn’t there? The last time Emilio had run from a town as it came to an end, he’d had nothing left to live for and nothing to chase him down and put him out of his misery. This time, he had so much left to do and the world demanding someone stay to pay the toll anyway. Two years ago, this decision would have been a simple one. But now? Now, it was harder than it should have been. Now, it wasn’t him who was making it. 

He glanced over at Teddy, the stricken look on his face. He was going to lose something here today, no matter who made this sacrifice. And Emilio hated that. He hated that these were the kinds of choices they were given, hated that this was their lot in life, hated that Metzli was volunteering for this now, just when they were starting to make peace with each other, hated that he knew he was going to let them. 

“It doesn’t have to be you,” he said, still low. It was a pointless gesture, both the quiet tones when just about everyone in their group had some kind of enhanced hearing and the offer that Metzli had already turned down once. “Already made it longer than anybody thought I would, you know. Wouldn’t hate it if it ended like this.” They were going to say no — he knew they were going to say no — but Emilio still felt the need to offer. They deserved that much. He got that now.

Frustration built up in Cass throughout it all, through Teddy’s voice echoing her pleas and Patricia’s teary chuckle and Teagan’s sidelong glance in her direction. They were supposed to all get out. They were supposed to all be safe. She was supposed to meet up with Sloane after, they were supposed to all get away together, and it wasn’t —

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. They weren’t supposed to be faced with more impossible choices when the decisions had all already been made. Cass had already lost friends to this crumbling mess of a town, had already lost people before the chaos started thanks in part to the strange ‘warning signs’ the town threw out as it started the too-slow, too-fast process of dying. She wasn’t supposed to lose anyone else. She wasn’t supposed to have to leave her family behind. 

Teddy’s boyfriend made an offer, and it took everything Cass had not to beg Metzli to take it, not to say outright that it would be better if they left someone she didn’t care about behind than it would be to leave someone she loved. It was a selfish thing to feel, but she felt it so entirely that it threatened to swallow her whole before the crumbling town could. Growing up the way she had, first in the system and then on the streets, made it so easy to accept that terrible things were bound to happen and to prefer it when they were happening to people you didn’t know. It also made it harder, somehow, when they were happening to the people you loved. There were so few of them. Cass couldn’t afford to lose any more.

“I don’t want that,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “We don’t want that.” She gestured between herself and Teddy, speaking for him without permission because she knew she was right. For all that she’d resented him, she knew that Teddy grew up much in the same way she had. She knew that, like her, he would prefer it if strangers took the fall in place of friends. Teddy didn’t want anyone to die for him any more than Cass did. She was confident in that, at least. “Let it be someone else, Metzli, please. I — I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re my family, the first family I ever had. Please don’t leave me here alone.” 

— 

There wasn't anything Teddy could say that Cass hadn't already. Though her glances towards Emilio hadn't gone completely unnoticed. It wasn't her fault she never had a chance to really meet him and get to know the side Ted had come to love. But that didn't really stop the sting and feeling of betrayal at the silent suggestion. His heart was pounding. If he had not spent the majority of the last few months learning how to control his shifting, he might have sported a much more toothsome look by now. Instead he looked much like a dog someone left out in the rain. Tearing his eyes between the one who had volunteered themselves, and the man who tried to take their place. Neither would be acceptable. How could they be? Teddy's life had been empty, so fucking empty until these beautiful lights filled it with meaning and worth. He gripped even tighter on Emilio's hand. Maybe even painfully, but not on an intentional scale. He'd probably have done the same to Metzli if he already had a hold on them. 

"You�� you can't leave us." He repeated numbly, barely audible. "I said I'd go wherever you go, appa. You promised we'd be together." In lieu of a well thought out argument, Teddy began to mumble like a lost toddler. Felt the burn in his legs as he willed them to move but they stayed firmly in place. His stomach churned, and his chest rose and shuddered with his ragged breath. "Why-why-why would it even have to be you? Huh?" He stammered, a rising defensive rage bubbling up out of the demon. "Haven't you given enough? You deserve to make it out with all of us just as much as anyone else, more even. You fought for this appa, you have to come with us s-someone else out there has to-" The tears his wide stare had been holding back finally burst through the dam. Catching his voice behind a curtain of hyperventilation and choked sobs as the realization that there was no way that he was leaving here with his heart intact. 

—

Patricia couldn’t think of anything witty or insightful to add to this devastating moment of collective revelation. All she could do was wrap an arm around Teagan, and watch as each member of this group reacted in their own ways. Even if all of them were normal people, intertwined only by common interests and memories, this would still hurt like shit, but they weren’t just that. Everybody here had been affected by Metzli for the better, time and time again. How could anybody ever accept that a world of people they’d never met, of people that would mostly never know them or care about them, should be more important than the one person who was good without expectation? It was a herculean task, and it couldn’t be resolved in the mere minutes that remained before the world ended.

Only an immensely small percentage of the world would know just what had been sacrificed for them, and even less would get to know who was lost for them. It was a devastatingly lonely fate that Patricia wouldn’t wish on nobody, not even those that had taken Teagan from her. There was no point consoling others right now, because not even Patricia could keep it together to do so. There was no staying strong, not anymore. Thoughts were quickly becoming harder to grasp as the knot in her throat felt larger and larger. Patricia leaned over and buried her face in Teagan’s shoulder, quickly dampening the fabric of her shirt with a stream of the tears just as inevitable as the shudder of the earth beneath them.

Teagan’s whole demeanor softened at the emotional outpour around her. She found herself wanting to fight back too, but there was a look in the vampire’s eye that told her everything she needed to know. They were a parent, a lover, a friend, a sibling, and everything in between. Soon, they would be none of those things except in the fleeting memories of everyone surrounding them. Macleod would mourn for the rest of her days, and as Teagan looked back over to her whilst she held Patricia, she held back a sob. The people she loved were always so strong and never let their tears see the light of day. Each a cache of emotions they held tightly shut. Holding tempers that could be akin to a blazing fire. But there they were, extinguishing the flames themselves so as to not leave anything unsaid.

“Shh…” She cooed, bringing Patricia closer. What else could she say? Teagan led the pair to the ground to get a better hold, a better look at the damage Metzli’s decision was making. It was then that she realized just how good of a friend they were to Patricia. She should’ve known. They had played a willing part in her rescue mission, after all. Teagan then cried, too. She held them at arm’s length so she didn’t have to feel the love they so obviously wanted to give, and did anyway, even without her permission. “I’m sorry,” Teagan whispered, looking at Metzli. “I should’ve gotten to know you better.” They shook their head at her, proclaiming her words nonsense and that they wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes a quiet love is the one that echoes the farthest. Nodding in understanding, Teagan placed a kiss on Patricia’s head and intertwined her fingers with Macleod’s, extending her strength and love to her.

“Come on man,” Metzli shook their head and faced the wreckage that White Crest was becoming. “You’re not getting out of living that easy. You’ve got shit to do. Besides…” Shrugging, they turned to Cass and Teddy for a moment, going back to Emilio to finish their thought. “You need to make sure everyone stays together and gets out. No one else knows how important that is more than you.” 

Metzli again turned around, this time facing Eilidh. If it wasn’t ghosts or ghouls, it was the intimate celebrations that brought back the dead, or better yet, kept them alive. Metzli had done just that only weeks ago when they put together a Día de Muertos party. Eilidh did that daily when she saw a butterfly and said hello to her first love. They wondered, for a moment, if she’d do the same when she found a blooming datura. At the thought, Metzli stared into her eyes with a softness that could compete with silk. Their hand grazed the necklace they’d given her and they swallowed a sob so they could replace it with a longing kiss. “I’m so glad you’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved.” They muttered against her lips, stepping away slowly while holding her hand with a pressure she could feel. Raising it just as slow and biting hard enough to draw her black, clotted blood. She scoffed out a teary chuckle and roughly pulled them to her for another firm kiss. A proper one that ended with their blood in her mouth. “I love you,” They said in unison, in each other’s languages they learned for one another.

Finally, they faced Teddy and Cass, only cupping her cheek. They would’ve cupped Teddy’s too, but sadly, one needs two hands for that, and he was on their left. “Listen guys, I’m not leaving you because I want to. I made a promise to protect you. To love you so unconditionally that I would quite literally put my life on the line for you. Of course you don’t want this, hell, I don’t want this, but it’s the solution we’ve got.” Metzli tightened their eyes shut in a vain attempt to halt the tears that fell anyway, and slowly, they brought Cass and Teddy into the tightest hug. Tight enough to imprint their bodies onto their skin so they’d stay there forever and they never had to forget how beautiful it felt to have love wrap around them. “It’s not about deserve. That went out the window a long time ago. It’s just about love. That’s all this is, and if you remember that, I’ll never leave you. You’ll never be alone. Look around you.” They parted from the hug and gestured to the people that had banded together to leave. “We made a family, Cass. We started it. And then it got bigger.” Teary eyes met with Teddy’s. “So no, you two will never be alone, and you know, you know, I will find a way back. This isn’t the end. It never is in our world. I chose you from the get-go. I chose you when I said we should leave. I’m choosing you now.” With a pause, they let go and stood tall, looking at their car. “We don’t have a lot of time and I need to get something done. Can I do that?”

Teddy’s grip on his hand was almost painful, tight and certain in a way that told the slayer just what the florist thought of his offer. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Metzli had that bound and determined look in their eye, the one that told Emilio that their mind was made up. For all the ups and downs that their strange almost-friendship had been through throughout his year in White Crest, he could certainly recognize that that look meant there was no arguing with the vampire. 

Glancing to the rest of the group — to Teddy’s stricken expression, to the heartbroken kid, to Teagan and Patricia on the ground and Macleod murmuring in the language she and Metzli shared — Emilio nodded. “I’ll make sure they get out,” he promised. Metzli was right; out of all of them, Emilio knew best just how important that was. He could save people, this time. It didn’t make up for the ones he couldn’t save before, didn’t undo the shit he’d done, but it was something. It had to be something.

Cass, of course, was far less understanding. She wanted an easier answer, wanted a better ending to this story. She wanted the kind of thing that only ever existed in fairytales, where the people she loved were fine and everyone lived happily ever after. Never mind that that was already out the window now, never mind that people had already died for this town, never mind that it would all be for nothing if one more didn’t join them. All Cass wanted was to get out of here with what was left of her family intact. That was all. 

And this world couldn’t even give her that. 

Her tears soaked Metzli’s hand as it rested against her face, and she shook her head adamantly. “It isn’t fair.” After everything they’d been through, after all the work they’d put into regaining their soul, how was this how it ended? How was it okay that they were going to die when they’d only just started to live? The two of them had just celebrated Metzli’s birthday, the first time they’d been allowed to do so. It was supposed to be the first of many, was supposed to be the beginning of a new tradition. They were supposed to have decades of movie nights and stupid dinner parties, were supposed to be there for each other until Cass was old and gray. Cass was supposed to have her sibling with her until the day she died. 

They should have had sixty more years of laughter and joy and peace. It wasn’t supposed to end in a crumbling town, with tears and dust. It wasn’t supposed to end abruptly and without warning, the way every other attempt at a family Cass had ever made had. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But there was no other way it could be, either. 

Metzli wouldn’t let anyone else make this decision in their place, not even if they were volunteering for it. No matter what they thought of themself, they were good. Too good to let anyone else do this in their stead, no matter how much Cass might long for it. Maybe it was always going to end like this after all. Maybe, since the beginning, Metzli doing something this selfless and this wonderful and this heartbreaking was inevitable. Maybe good people didn’t get happy endings. 

She whimpered as Metzli spoke, a thousand arguments building up in the back of her mind. But you won’t, she wanted to scream. You won’t be here. You won’t be here, and the town is gone and Levi is going to go back into the sea and Teddy probably doesn’t like me much, anyway, and I can’t go back to being alone when I’ve only just started to be with other people. This can’t be all the time we get. This can’t be all the family I get to have. It was stupid and selfish and childish, but she wanted to stomp her feet and throw her hands up and scream at the sky, wanted to yell at a god she wasn’t even sure she’d ever believed in for making this the hand they were dealt. It isn’t fair. I need you here. I still need you here. 

But what good would it do? What good would throwing a fit at the end of the world do for any of them? It would only make Metzli feel worse than they already did and, god, Cass didn’t want their last impression of her to be that. She didn’t want Metzli to feel anything negative towards her at the end, didn’t want to be the inconvenience every one of her short-lived foster families had accused her of being. There was so much here that she didn’t want, and so little time to correct any of it. 

There was still too much to say, still too much to do. And the world was still ending. And not one bit of it was fair.

She reached out, clutching Metzli’s hand desperately. “I’m not — I’m not ready,” she said, voice caught somewhere between a whisper and a sob. “I’m not ready to be without you. We just started. This is supposed to be the beginning.” 

The messy mix of memories that had firmly rooted Teddy in place began to settle into the corners of his mind, letting him slip into an unkind and uncomfortable sense of morbid pain. He had stopped flicking his gaze between Metzli and Emilio at some point, maybe when the older of the two guided the younger to keep everyone else safe. A firm decision that didn't seem up for debate. No, instead his eyes fell on Cass. Watched every bit of the churning ocean of emotions washed over her features in a way his inability to process the very same ones wouldn't allow. He watched until they were both pulled into a hug so tight his view was obscured, and he could only feel the flushed heat radiating off her skin. Hear her heartbeat banging against its cage in rhythm with his own. 

Her words compelled him to do something he never really would have thought of, if not for how Metzli brought them closer together. Funnily enough, their connection to Levi and Marina made them something of siblings, but it might just have been the old vampire who made them family. Teddy gently, far more gently than he had been (and still was) gripping tight to his boyfriend, slipped his hand into Cass's. A wordless promise that if she wanted it, if she allowed it…he would be there for her. They both knew so intimately what it was like to be alone. Maybe it was time they tried to get rid of that feeling together. 

Teddy wasn't ready to lose Metzli either. The annoying gnawing voice that always grated at the back of his head reminded him that they hadn't even really known each other that long. That the strange sensation of knowing the vampire all his life had come from a stint of magic that temporarily altered his memories and gave him and Metzli a few days where he got to be a real kid. Their kid. And now… now he was going to be an orphan again. It didn't really matter how old you were, losing that part of yourself… especially after having fought so long to feel it. To really belong to something or someone who chose you because of who you are, not something you did or something you could give. He wasn't ready to lose it all again. It didn't matter what he had with Levi. A thousand years and that would never be this. 

A loving embrace, before a calculated release. 

A selfless sacrifice that would leave a living scar on everyone here. Teddy wept. Silent and steady. Hot blistery tears streaking down his cheeks with no sign of stopping. His breath stifled any words, as if he could think of any. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you tell someone that they've become such an ingrained part of you that to pull them away means the very fabric of you begins to unravel? How do you keep standing when the ground below gets ripped away? The closest he could think of was a sobbed, repeated phrase. Over and over. 

"Apa, please. I love you."

—

All Teagan could do was watch with eyes so full of mist that everyone was a blur. Looking down at Patricia, it was all she could do to keep herself from falling apart when there were parties clearly more affected than she was. For the time being, she kept quiet, wiping her eyes to see Metzli hurry around the vehicles as the world crumbled around them. Time was ticking, and Teagan could’ve sworn she could hear the clock bell roar, confirming Metzli’s suspicions. 

Why did it have to end this way? Life always had a cost, and it looked like there was nothing left to do but pay, and Metzli was holding the lump sum. One so large that it was lodged in their throat while they said their goodbyes, even taking the time to speak to those they barely knew. Teagan appreciated that, looking at Macleod with eyes so full of sorrow, they were dripping down her cheeks. Everything was breaking, and the nix didn’t wield the power to make everything come to a full stop when the collection of all their fears was titanic. But that strange, one-armed vampire did. And they knew it. 

“I’m not ready either,” Metzli whispered with a tired smile, pulling Cass into one more tight hug after spending a few minutes rushing to transfer items to the other vehicles and writing letters as fast as they could. They figured their belongings would be better off kept by those they loved than lost beneath the rubble of a lost town, and their family would pass on their goodbyes to everyone they knew. Of that they were sure of. 

“And Teddy,” Metzli locked eyes with the one and only son they ever had, wrapping their arms around him and giving into their heart that they opened up so anxiously to the world. “ I love you. I love all of you.” That time, they looked around them, taking the time to share a glance at everyone, disregarding the way their backwards world could they offer their dying breaths and it be called beautiful. 

Emilio, the man that hated them without a second thought became one of their greatest allies, and even better friend. 

Patricia, a woman who so lost in her failure that she nearly lost sight of what she could have. Now she had everything, and the best was yet to come. 

Teagan, a girl who kept everyone at arm’s length, was now using those very limbs to encase people with love. 

Cass, once a stranger that prevented them from being their own worst enemy. She shared Metzli’s  fear of loneliness and abandonment so intimately that she became tightly entangled in their heart and made a family. Their first. 

Teddy, a boy who was never chosen despite holding the biggest heart made of gold that persevered through loneliness, and now, finally, he knew what unconditional love from a parent was. 

Eilidh, the first and only woman Metzli ever loved. With her heart as full and lively as every garden she tended, she gave the vampire everything, even if it was to her detriment. She found their heart, but she’d always be their soul. Their death so early on in their relationship was not the ending they wanted, but they handed her the seeds for the future and were giving her a watering can to nurture something into bloom. Each petal would be marked with their love and she would be reminded every day that they would never leave her. With their sacrifice, with their love, they were painting the future in the background with only 30 minutes left. 

And yes, they would all grieve. But Metzli found comfort that their deep grief meant that they loved fully. They all opened their hearts despite the inevitable. Metzli had many regrets, but never would they regret the love they gave, or anything they did in the name of it. 

With one final round of hugs and a lingering kiss for Eilidh, the ending was cemented. Each rumble and shake grew in strength, leading a flurry of tremors to course through Metzli as their legs settled in the driver side. “Please, take care of each other. Please.” They faced everyone, rolling the window down and shutting the door with their face tear-stained and red. “And Cass?” They chuckled dryly, a glimmer of humor pushing through with a twitchy, quick nod. “Tell amá I love her, okay? And check Macleod’s glove compartment in her trailer. There’s a little present there for you.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if the quakes hadn’t been trembling through the ground, wouldn’t have mattered if the sun was high in the sky or the clouds were all far away. In that moment, no matter what the world actually looked like, all Cass would have seen was darkness. The scene blurred around her as her eyes filled up with tears, and she shook her head again, adamant. It couldn’t end like this. After everything, it couldn’t end like this. They’d made it out. They’d gotten all the way to the edge of town, had plans to go farther, had a future all mapped out and ready to go. They were all supposed to survive this. They were all supposed to be okay.

But the world, Cass had learned long ago, never gave much of a shit about the way things were supposed to be. It didn’t matter that Metzli was going off to stop the apocalypse, didn’t matter that a dozen other people were giving their lives for the same reason. The world was ending anyway. It already had.

Cass clung to Metzli stubbornly as they hugged her, and she wanted to drag the vampire with them, wanted to say fuck the world, let it end, I don’t care even if it wasn’t true. She was too kindhearted to doom the world, even if hers would be so much emptier without Metzli in it. Even if it felt like the apocalypse might as well have been successful in this moment.

She sniffled as Metzli spoke again, nodding her head even as her throat burned, even as her chest ached. Whatever present Metzli had left for her would be far too small to fill the void carved out in her life, but at least she’d have something to hold onto. At least she’d have something tangible to remind her that once, for a moment, someone had loved her like this. 

Too soon, the goodbyes were over. There wasn’t enough time in the world to say everything they wanted to say, and there certainly wasn’t enough time now. Metzli had to go, and so did the rest of them. Someone tugged her back towards the cars, Teddy’s boyfriend practically dragging him along, and everything hurt long after Cass was settled into the seat with a seatbelt holding her in place, long after Metzli disappeared in the rear view mirror. 

There was a future ahead of them, still. There was a windshield with a whole world contained behind it, a world that would continue to exist because of an infuriatingly selfless vampire who left to save the planet because it needed them to. And Cass had needed them, too. She understood it — of course she did — but she didn’t think the ache would ever really go away. Maybe, if she could ever look to the future in the windshield instead of the crumbling past in the mirror, it would hurt less. Or maybe it never would. Either way, she figured, they had to keep driving. For Metzli. For all of them.

[declinlalune]

[pm] Are you sure? [...] Teddy. I've heard that name a few times in the past few days. They were with Teagan when she You were staying in a bar? Really? You could have told me. I'm sure you could have stayed at the cabin or something if you wanted. Puppyeye needed to hangout with Perro anyway. That's kind of funny, as long as they were doing it to be funny and not actually harm him. I'm not sure if that counts. Sounds like you're there volunteer voluntarily.

[pm] I have more friends than Leticia and you. I have many friends. People like me. [...] Staying with my friend Teddy. Was staying in a bar before that, but they got all bent out of shape about it and made me come to their house. Bought whiskey, though. [...] Let me know if I can help, all right? Don't mind doing whatever you need me to do. Maybe dyeing Kaden's hair pink would help. I think we should try this. Yeah, came by when I wasn't there and grabbed him out of the room I was staying in. Ass. Used him to make me come out to their house, now I'm stuck here. Does that count as kidnapping me, too? I can hold it over their head more if I say they kidnapped me, too.

[uenodivision]

Hypnosis Mic Shuffle Team, Vol. 4 (Part 2) (Cont.)

The Power of Justiceマジックパラディン! (Paladin Solo)

7 Wonders of HypMic

Akihisa "Azrael" Mashiro

Maki "Professor Z-3" Umemoto

Shuu "Men-H" Edogawa

Rintaro "Ignis" Himura

Yoichi "Jekyll" Shujo

Ren "Vox" Nakashima

Kaiji "Jinx" Sano

Hypnosis Break (Welcome to Our Realm)

The Fatherless

Kunio "James Moriarty" Chōten

Kokomi "Snegurochka" Morozov

To the Motherf*cker of My Sperm Donner

The Nemesis Council

Tomi "High Class" Chōten - "The Gentleman of Crime"

Reiaki "Black Cat" Suzubayashi - "The Cat"

Nadya "Vipera" Kuromiya - "The Master of Fear"

Iwao "TRIXT4R" Masuda - "The Prince of Puzzles"

Reika "Belladonna" Aichi - "The Green's Chosen Warrior"

Yuno "Kiiro" Kamora - Professor Strange

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe - Harvey Dent

Eko "Aoi" Seishin - Basil Karlo

Akihisa "Azrael" Mashiro - "The Fastest Killer Alive"

Max "Ōkami" Soukoku - "The Demon"

Eiji "MC KRATOS" Mizoguchi - Waylon Jones

Ryuko "Mista Z.B." Umemoto - Roman Sionis

Rashaad "Straight Up" Young - "The Man Who Never Missed"

Aoba "Guinevere" Yamamura - Victor Fries

Oki "ATLAS" Teagan - "Lover of Venom"

Rinko "X-Tasy" Kurosaki - Harleen Frances Quinzel

Kanon "Mz. Hyde" Hojo - "The Clown Prince of Crime"

Woe to Gotham

Digital Demons

Reiaki "Black Cat" Suzubayashi

Criss "Paradox" Hiromi

Joey "Joker" Kurusu

Eiji "MC Mogul" Noguchi

Yuriko "Black Dahlia" Kuromiya

Village of Nightmares

Lady Luck's Charm

Yorii "Sireen" Sakuma

Lola "Aphrodite" Takahashi

Makina "Screen Shot" Setsukura

Hoàng "MC Lotus" Diệu

Evelyn "SPIRIT" Rose

Sakura "Renegade" Kito

Kotono "Shiki" Ohara

"Queen Card"

Gambling Freak

Kiya Kara

Ryūzō "Kage" Mizutori

Kotono "Shiki" Ohara

Takumi "GUTS" Wakaba

The Sannin

The OP League

Tetsuya "FЯE4K" Yashiro - "The Son of Sparda"

Ryūzō "Kage" Mizutori - "Jack the Ripper"

Seiji "Avenger" Tsukimoto - John-117

Oki "ATLAS" Teagan - Doom Slayer

Aika "VeeXn" Yumi - "The Umbra Witch"

Shian "Ready or Not" Meizono - "The Guardian of the Galaxy"

Kaiji "Jinx" Sano - "The One-Winged Angel"

Aoi "Blue Wolf" Yamamura - "God of Wrath"

Ryuko "Mista Z.B." Umemoto - "The Raging Demon"

Ted "Teddy" Bridges - "The God of War"

Zakari "Icarus" Hiroya - "The Champion of the Jötnar"

Why We Can't Be Beat

HypMic's Best Friends

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe

Shisuta "The Saint" Heisha

Sayaka "Rhopalocera" Miyuki

Maki "Professor Z-3" Umemoto

Ririko "2Cute" Akihara

Eden "Ember" Yamamura

Saigo "Tsukumogami" Fuyugami

Anika "Rush Hour" Kiyozaki

Kensaku "Dr. K Tone" Morimoto

Itsuki "Tsuki" Kamiko

Everything is Connected

Hikikomori Hip-Hop Clan

Aoi "Blue Wolf" Yamamura

Ryūnosuke "Fist N Fury" Sekiguchi

Zakari "Icarus" Hiroya

Joey "Joker" Kurusu

Yano "Y-STARR" Ietsuna

Ace "MC Patriot" Douglas

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe

Makina "Screen Shot" Setsukura

Yuuya "ARROW" Kanata

Eko "Aoi" Seishin

Eiji "MC KRATOS" Mizoguchi

Kaoru "Arachne" Shinozaki

Eiji "MC Mogul" Noguchi

Yorii "Sireen" Sakuma

Tetsuya "FЯE4K" Yashiro

Lyall "Corvus" Shiba

The Book of Otakus

@obihiro-division @katsushika-division @suginami-division @sapporo-division @kobedivision

@kumamoto-division @hakodate-division @minato-division03 @minato-division01 @shizuokadivision

@fukuokadivision1 @naradivision @aichi-division @okinawa-division @ginza-division

@adachi-division @akihabaradivision @kanazawa-division @edogawa-division @setagaya-division

@saitama-division @akihabara-division03 @sendaidivision @kagoshima-division @niigata-division

@aomori-division @nakanodivision @toyama-division @kyoto-division @fukuokanodivision

[gemmahale]

You’ve got mail! 📨 Share 3 songs from a fic’s playlist. Then send this mail along to another! 📤

Stelle, I am about to break your heart, and I am so sorry.

....I don't have fic playlists. 😅

Playlist development has never been a strong suit of mine. 😬 I leave that to people that are better than I at remembering songs and matching meaning to them.

(Sidebar: @/syoddeye is the GOAT for fic playlists in my book.)

However, I can give you what I tend to listen to while I write and a few songs that make me think of WIPs of mine.

When I'm writing:

I prefer music that fades into the background, but doesn't become too repetitive. Two artists that come to mind are:

Space Banjo (YouTube | Bandcamp)

I love all of their music. It hits the right spot between twangy and lofi without putting me to sleep or making me want to throw something. They have such a diverse catalogue too, with different themes and such.

Blurred LoFi (YouTube | Soundcloud)

Blurred has just the right amount of variation to keep me from wanting to scratch my ears out and all of their work is theirs, or work they've collaborated with someone else on. They have lots of themes and variations and it's not hard to find something that works.

Songs that make me think of WIPs:

Useful Girl: Teddy Swims - "Lose Control"

Useful Girl: Teagan and Sara - "Closer"

Useful Girl: NoMBe - "Freak Like Me"

Okay, they're all Useful Girl. Bite me. Maybe I should start a playlist.

[eldritchaccident]

@stainedglasstruth replied to your post “[pm] Hey, Teddy. Um Just Teagan's okay. Dr...”:

[pm] Yeah. She's doing okay. I guess she was kept in a stasis of some sort? It didn't seem like any time had passed for her, but her body weakened. It's gonna take a bit to get back to normal. And then a bit longer probably because she's too goddamn stubborn. I know I said it before, but I am really sorry for how I reacted at first. I kinda took it out on you, and you didn't deserve that.

​[pm] She messaged me too. Fuckin hell that's rough. But I guess it's better than experiencing everything the whole time. Good. You make sure she does, okay? Then I'm gonna invite you both over for dinner only once she's 100% [....] Hey no, you didn't [....] it's fine Arden. Honestly. You were stressed. I get it. I [....] it was my fault. I don't care what she says I should have done something

[declinlalune]

[pm] If there is something to find out, we'll do it.

Right. Teddy and Emilio [...] Don't know Teddy personally, but Emilio, yeah. Glad they got out. [...] We'll figure it out, Arden. We'll get her out. She's not going out like this.

[pm] Aside from literally everything? Erebus, at the moment. [.....] I Thank I really appreciate it. I'll be looking into it, too, but, yeah, honestly, I don't know if there's anything to find on this.

[...] Yeah, Teddy helped get us all out. Emilio, too, I know you guys are friends. In as much as anyone can be friends with Emilio [........] I know it's not their fault but [....] Right. I hope so I don't Like is she ali Fuck [user takes a moment] I Thank you, Andy. Really.

[arrows-unofficial-ocs]

introducing my pjoverse ocs…

⤷ 𝙀𝙡𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙖 𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚 • daughter of hecate • daughter of a street magician • magic wielder • dyslexic • leader of the quest for hecate’s key with teddy & ivy • very comfortable with hecate’s cabin • introvert • quiet, sarcastic, powerful, messy • ♥ teddy mccallister • portrayed by teagan croft

⤷ 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙮 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 • son of hepheastus • dyslexic • hockey player • hockey obsessed • adopted • fish out of water amongst the hepheastus kids • cannot make anything with his hands • introvert • quiet, athletic, sarcastic, stubborn, funny • ♥ eloise kittredge • portrayed by dylan kingwell

⤷ 𝙄𝙫𝙮 𝙂𝙖𝙤 • daughter of dionysius • adhd • does not like her father • extrovert • chaotic, messy, friendly, loud, outgoing • has an underlying aura of sadness • rule breaker • bisexual • ♥ harmony reyes • portrayed by lola tung

⤷ 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙍𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 • daughter of apollo • dyslexic • adhd • musician • extrovert • musical, loyal, stubborn, loud • lesbian • desperate to earn a quest • ♥ ivy gao • portrayed by olivia rodrigo

[indecentpause]

Super Rad!: A Playlist for Ezra Yazdi from Sheraton Academy.

if you weren't here back when I was doing word of the day posts and regular prompt fills, you might not know who this is! they are a character from far in the future when Danny and Akasha have kids. they are the youngest, with older twin siblings.

you don't really need to know anything about them or read any of my old stories, I just love their playlist and I wanted to share it lol

“They’re going to be hellions when they hit secondary school.” “They’re hellions now!” Akasha laughed. “Mum!” Ezra shouted from the living room. Akasha was about to call back when Ezra, Millie, and Lacey Faun all marched into the kitchen with their handmade signs, covered in paint and glue and glitter. This time, they read 7:00 bedtime? No way! Give us 9:00! and Mums and Dads get to go to bed late, why can’t we? Akasha bit her lip to keep from laughing. She didn’t want to encourage disobedience, but at the same time, she didn’t want to discourage them from conversation and letting their needs be known. Even if the earlier bedtime was better for them right now. Josselin put his sponge down on the counter and turned to the kids, stepping up beside Akasha. “Millie,” he signed. “You know we gave you a 7:00 bedtime for a reason. You get to stay up until 8:00 when you don’t have school the next day, right?” Millie wilted a little behind her sign. That was true. “It should be 9:00!” Ezra cried, stepping closer to Millie to offer support. “9:00, like the Mums and Dads!” Mille’s back straightened a little and she nodded. “9:00! 9:00!” Lacey Faun began to chant. Immediately Ezra joined in, and Millie stomped her feet in time. “Okay, that’s enough,” Akasha said. She took a step closer but didn’t try to take their signs. “If you go to bed at 9:00 you’ll be too tired for school in the morning, and you have to go to school.” “Why!?” Lacey Faun demanded. “Because kids need to learn new things every day, so they can be smart and open minded and ready for the world,” Akasha said. Ezra paused. That sounded right, but they didn’t think school really made anyone smart. It was just memorizing stuff for tests, and they said so. Akasha smiled fondly. “I know, love,” she said. “And we’re trying to get you into better classes. But in the meantime, you have to be patient.” “I don’t wanna!” Ezra wailed.

from this short word of the day story

Super Rad!: A Playlist

the narcissist cookbook - gendering teddy // she/her/hers - gender is boring // smash mouth - i just wanna see // mika - lollipop // kate mucci - happy song // the aquabats! - the shark fighter! // bowling for soup - today is gonna be a great day // aurelio voltaire - raised by bats // liam lynch - happy // you suck at cooking - french fries // weird al yankovic - hardware store // kitsch club - 12 foot home depot skeleton // relient k - the pirates who don't do anything // ninja sex party - release the kraken // the offspring feat. redman - original prankster // the aquabats! - super rad! // daniel thrasher - shiny object syndrome // weird al yankovic - i love rocky road // jonas brothers - year 3000 // be your own pet - food fight! // teagan and sara feat. the lonely island - everything is awesome!!! // miss papaya - pink dinosaur // tainted flavor - believe in yourself // jason steele - i am a millipede //pain - jabberjaw running underwater // keyes. - me want bite

listen on spotify

Ezra tag

Sheraton Academy tag

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace

@drippingmoon @theoddcryptid @magic-is-something-we-create @winterandwords

@revenantlore @mr-orion @idreamonpaper @thelaughingstag

[wickedsrest-rp]

Welcome to our WRW! We do these weekly to provide plot drops, challenges, and highlight starters. Anyone is welcome to use these bullet points. Let us know if you want us to include one of your setting-related plots in here for next week by sending us a bullet point!

Is that a giant beak? Our current plot of the week sees the town invaded by… weird little guys. And they sure brought their friends.

Look out for our seasonal Fall event coming this weekend!

Someone noticed that one of the maps posted Downtown has a small offshore island on it -- unnamed -- that isn't on any other map. Maybe someone should verify if that little island is out there... and what's on it, if it exists.

Birdsong is heard across town each morning, which is a lovely thing. Except one flock is actually singing songs... about Felix Mendoza. They might even by spying on Felix because they seem to know a lot, down to how Felix thinks. Weird! But such lovely music. The Grit Pit is considering catching some of the birds and using them to hype up the crowd before Felix's matches.

Someone found a small cave with beautiful bioluminescent mushrooms filling it wall to wall. Tourists are excited to go see it. That sounds like a fun, safe way to spend a day. Probably?

Complete challenges and claim prizes!. You can read more about how they work and what prizes are available here. Bonus challenges are an opportunity to earn an extra point per week but are harder or weirder.

This week’s challenge:

On dash, have your character talk about a rumor they heard.

Bonus challenge:

Have your character intentionally start a rumor about another character.

Maggie is hoping the September rain will bring some extra excitement to her life.

Hey party animals, where's the best place to go for all your fun loving needs? Xó would like suggestions.

Mateo is looking for trouble and wants to bring you along! Are you brave enough?

Do you love snow globes? Do you want a free one that is definitely not cursed? Contact Felix today!

Teagan is ready for fall and that hot cocoa that comes with it.

The police may be looking into this so if you want to check out some shady items Siobhan has for grabs I would hurry.

Kieran refuses to not have a brat summer birthday theme this year!

There's a new bar coming to town and Teddy is looking for some people to work for them. Make sure you message them if you need a well paying job!

Isa must have missed that last post because she's looking for a new job herself. Who's hiring?

[closingwaters]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @mortemoppetere @closingwaters

SUMMARY: Teagan convinces Emilio to go to the ren faire with her, and the two end up having a great time!

WARNINGS: None!

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining overhead, fae from all over town had gathered, and after much convincing on her part, Teagan had gotten Emilio to not only attend, but dress up too! It also helped that there was an abundance of alcohol to consume at the event, which she offered to pay for as long as he played along. As grumpy as the slayer was, he sure knew how to have fun when it counted. Teagan even considered surprising him with a battleaxe. One crafted by the most magnificent hands, with the most ferocious material. She smiled at the thought, yanking Emilio to her to follow through a small crowd.

“You look like an absolute beaut in that crown, mun. Could almost kiss ya!” She bounced her brows, “Almost.” With a wink, Teagan led the two to a booth filled with usable weapons and targets, figuring it would be best to start Emilio off with something he could enjoy before moving on to things he wouldn’t normally consider. “Think you can beat me in a battle of precision?” She slapped down a few precious looking rocks and beetles, along with a few actual dollars. The leshy took the payment happily, making the nymph’s smile grow. 

“Looks like we both get five tries. Try not to be a sore loser when I win.” Teagan giggled, excitement growing. It’d been too long since she’d been to an affair as large the faire, and she was full of pride that fae had put it together. All fae were free to be in their true forms while surrounding themself with kin and enjoying the spoils of so many trades. If it had been humans, she would’ve still been unglamoured, but it would’ve most definitely been half the fun.

“You ready?”

This wasn’t something Emilio had ever really seen himself doing. Large gatherings filled with big crowds weren’t really places where he tended to feel comfortable, and dressing up in strange clothes that sat a little too heavy on his skin made him feel a little uneasy. He didn’t feel as if he’d be ready to jump into action if he needed to, though he thought the crown on his head would probably make a decent projectile. He still wasn’t even sure how Teagan had convinced him, really; there had been the promise of alcohol, he knew, which he was looking forward to. Maybe part of him still knew that he owed her for what she’d done for him with his uncle. That wasn’t the kind of debt you could ever really repay, after all.

“Ay, don’t get handsy,” he replied with a roll of his eyes that was closer to fond than irritated. Curiosity flickered across his features at the idea of a precision battle, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way that was almost reminiscent of Perro’s reaction to the word treat. “They have that here?” Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as he’d originally feared it would be.

Allowing her to pull him off to a table, Emilio inspected the setup. Knives, hatchets, and other throwable blades lined the walls of the booth, with targets set up for tossing. “I’m good at this,” he warned her, eyes lit up with excitement. “You might not win.” She was probably good at this, too. This whole event seemed to be made more for people like her than him, really; all around him were unglamoured fae, more than he’d ever really seen before. He took a moment to be glad that Rhett was no longer in town, took another moment to feel guilty for that thought. Then, looking back to Teagan, he nodded. “Ready,” he confirmed. “Do we go at the same time? Or one first?”

—

The way Emilio spoke leaned toward familiarity and friendliness in a way that made Teagan’s chest warm. Their friendship had blossomed despite their differences, once they realized just how similar their anger simmered. Almost in unison at times. “You’re getting soft, mun.” She replied, watching affectionately how he rolled his eyes. Yes, he was definitely getting soft. “Teddy’s been good for you. Love’s got a way of sanding down those edges, makin’ those sharp margins just…” Teagan scrunched her nose and let her gaze fall onto the flower crown Emilio wasn’t even attempting to remove. “Right.” She smiled softly and it quickly turned into a grin as her slayer friend grew excited at the array of weapons. 

“I’ll let you go first. You know what that saying is, right?” The nix bounced her brows, a mischievous edge forming on her smile. “You gotta size up your opponent and assess before you make your move.” Teasingly, Teagan bumped her hip to Emilio, twirling a knife in her hand as an idea brewed in her brain. None of the rules on the board said you couldn’t sabotage a player, and even if it did, Teagan was certain the Sylph behind the counter wouldn’t mind a fellow nymph playing a trick. “Now, go on.” She rolled her lips over her teeth, waiting for her opportunity to strike at least one of Emilio’s attempts down. 

“Show me whatcha got, enaid.”

Years ago — months ago, even — the statement would have sounded a lot more like an accusation. In the mind of Elena Cortez, soft was the worst thing a person could be. She’d accused Emilio of it plenty of times, had flung it in his direction like a weapon more times than he could count. It was one of the many things she’d cited that made him useless, and it cut like a knife each time it found its mark. She’d hate him if she could see him now; he’d lost all doubt about that a while ago. It still hurt far more than he was willing to admit, still stung in a way that was hard to explain. But coming from Teagan, it didn’t sound quite like a barb. The mention of Teddy, too, sent a warmth through his chest, made him feel a little less on edge. “Don’t let them know that,” he warned, fondness still present in his expression. “They’ll get a big head. Bad for everyone.” 

Scanning the table, Emilio ran a finger absently along some of the weapons there. Knives were the most familiar; he had practice throwing them. Axes were fun, too. He picked up one of each, weighing them in his hands. “Ah, assess all you want. It won’t help you much,” he warned, wriggling his brows as he placed himself in front of the target. Tucking the hatchet into his belt, he took aim with the knife first, rearing back and letting it fly towards the wooden bullseye in front of him.

—

“I quite like their head, actually. Even if that ego of theirs could fill up a room if it could manifest physically.” She grabbed for her goblet and took a drink of her mead, delighted by the roasted honey notes that permeated to her nose and excited her taste buds. Licking her lips, Teagan put her drink back down onto the table and watched Emilio take in the targets. 

It was always fascinating to watch concentration lock on one’s features. How a body tensed in preparation, moving on instinct and muscle memory. Although Teagan knew how a man like Emilio was manufactured, like a machine set to murder without a chance to have a say, she could see that he made the best out of it. He was using his skills in a game, with a target not made of flesh, but of hay and paper. She could see him almost relax, ever so slightly. He was even participating in playful banter, which only served to motivate Teagan to execute her plan.

“Sure, ‘ol grump. Sure.” She winked, even if he couldn’t see it as he cocked his weapon. “Let’s see if the odds are in your favor!” As Emilio released the blade, Teagan released her own, timing it just so. The blades collided, and the Sylph giggled along with the nix while she gloated and bumped her hip to Emilio’s. “How’s my assessing then, huh?”

“Eh, so do I,” Emilio admitted with a shrug. It was nice, actually, knowing that Teddy had a friend in Teagan. She could probably understand them in ways Emilio never could, probably got things that seemed far too foreign for him to grasp. Teddy deserved someone like that, he knew, deserved a level of understanding that Emilio himself would never be able to give them. (On his worst days, he thought a lot about all the things Teddy deserved and just how incapable he was of providing them. But today wasn’t one of his worst days; today felt a little more like one of his best.)

It felt a little better when he let that knife fly. There had always been something a little freeing about letting a weapon make a controlled exit from his hand. Maybe it was a shitty thing to admit, considering where most of those weapons tended to end up, but he’d always found a little bit of strange comfort in it. It was a way of letting go, a method of taking control away from yourself in the most controlled way possible. The illusion of freedom, in many ways, was more comfortable than the real thing. You could let the knife fly and, even without feeling the weight of it in your hand, know exactly where it would end up.

Unless someone knocked it out of the air.

Emilio narrowed his eyes with a small scowl, turning to raise a brow at Teagan. “Didn’t know we were allowed to cheat,” he said, more amused than accusatory. “My turn to ‘assess’ next, is it?” If anything, this new challenge made the game more fun. It was like Teddy talking his ear off as they threw axes, trying to distract him by turning his mind to… other things. Emilio was pretty good at this game, too. “Go ahead, then. Take your shot.”

—

“Oh, I bet you do, lad.” She replied, happy to see Emilio blissfully attached to someone she knew was inherently good. The two of them were good for each other, if Emilio’s undying smile was any indication. He was still a grump, and always would be, but Teagan knew that his days of bitter loneliness were over. Even his self-sabotaging nature couldn’t get in the way. Not if she or Teddy had anything to say about it. 

Love had a way of doing that, at any level, and the nix felt fortunate enough to understand what that felt like between the hunted and the hunter. She was at peace with that, in a way. Sometimes the acrid taste of her family’s death tightened Teagan’s throat and clawed its way out in terrors at night, sending her out into the darkness as she slept, but she knew she could count on Emilio to be a friend now. She knew it was the same for him. She knew they shared a similar horror. And she knew she could even rely on him to be entertained by her antics. 

Teagan snickered to herself, and then the Sylph joined along again when Emilio made a face. The two of them had come a long way since their introduction by the lake. No longer did Teagan want to drown the slayer in water, but in fondness and joy. It’s what he deserved after what he’d lost. A man that bore the weight of death needed to find a way to release the burden on his shoulders and feel his strength return. Now that the two of them saw eye to eye, Teagan wanted to provide that aid, hoping that one day, Emilio would put it all down and let himself stand tall, without the weight crushing him tenfold.

Smiling more, even. As he was then. 

“All right, enaid.” She teased, standing closer and getting into Emilio’s face to taunt him playfully. “You’ll have to be…” Without looking, Teagan lifted her knife while Emilio was distracted and only pulled away from the goading to immediately throw the knife. “Fast!” She finished, a bit miffed to see she had not hit the bullseye. In fact, she had missed it by a whole two inches.

“Well…you didn’t block it.”

He rolled his eyes again at Teagan’s comment, though it was just as fond as it had been before. It was strange, this dynamic they’d built. It wasn’t one he’d ever seen coming. But most of the relationships in Emilio’s life now were like that, weren’t they? Maybe his friendship with Wynne was a predictable thing, but the rest? He’d hated Teddy to begin with, started off thinking Zane belonged on the other side of one of his stakes. He was pretty sure Teagan had wanted him dead at the start, thought she probably would have seen to it if Arden hadn’t been there to stop her. Most of his friends now weren’t human, something that would have his mother rolling in her grave. But Emilio felt less and less like it was a bad thing to love the people he loved. He wasn’t sure what it said about him. He wasn’t sure if the guilt that sometimes clawed at his chest because of it was warranted or not.

Maybe you didn’t have to feel guilty for being a little less miserable than you used to be, even if that was a hard thing to remember. Maybe you were allowed to hold someone’s hand and smile and wear a crown of flowers on your head even if you knew you’d probably lay awake later with something eating at your insides and the memories of all the people who wouldn’t do any of those things again because you had failed to save them closer to the surface than they had been in a long time. Maybe, in cases like this, all you could do was let yourself enjoy one moment at a time.

So he’d let himself have fun. He’d joke with Teagan, he’d throw knives at paper instead of flesh. And later, if he thought about it too much, it would hurt. He’d get stuck on the thought of his daughter, who hadn’t been given nearly enough moments of pure, innocent fun, or of his wife, who might have liked something like this if her relationship to him hadn’t gotten her killed. The storm clouds would return, because they always did. But right now, for this moment, it was sunny. Maybe it was okay to enjoy that.

Teagan was fast, letting her knife loose before Emilio could prep one to knock it from the sky. But there were tradeoffs with things like this — if you moved too quickly, you sacrificed accuracy. Emilio snorted as her knife missed the target, the grin on his face a wide and shit-eating kind. “Don’t need to block it if you can’t hit it without me messing you up,” he teased. With her hands temporarily empty of knives, he pulled the ax from his waistband and reared back, tossing it at the target and grinning at the resulting thunk when it found home. “Maybe you need to be faster, too.”

—

There was always a twinge of sadness that came along with Emilio’s smile. His eyes held the tragic tales of his family, an abundance of pain that became endless nightmares when he shut his eyes. Could he dream again? Could Teagan? Were they allowed to try after all that time? More often than not, she was afraid the answer was no. And now she found herself afraid that Emilio would fall prey to the same ending after being better than the upbringing he was given. 

His eyes pleaded for that reprieve, but his shoulders tensed with guilt, as if ready to bear it forever. Maybe he would. Maybe they both had to prepare for a grief so infinite because who they were died along those they loved. Or perhaps, Teagan hoped, because they had loved again, because love was the root of all grief, they had the hearts to always find themselves again. To grin with a playfulness long thought lost, at a game that was trivial at its worst, and bridging at its best. 

So, Teagan stepped onto it, without hesitation. She crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out to tease Emilio as she lightly shoved his flower crown down to obscure his vision. It gave her the chance to throw her next knife with much more accuracy, even if it landed at the edge of the red bullseye. “All right,” Teagan snorted out a chuckle, “This doesn’t mean you win. I mean, look! The hatchet is much bigger than the knife.” The Sylph shook their head in disagreement, and Teagan rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on!” She huffed, though there wasn’t any real grief in it. No, she was lost to the glee she felt being with her friend.

The flower crown came down over his eyes to obscure his vision, and there was a time when it would have been enough to make Emilio panic. There was a time when the world would have closed in on him the moment he couldn’t see everything around him with perfect clarity, a time when he would have made a swing without thinking just to make sure no one came too close before he could see clearly again. There was less distance between himself and that time than he’d have liked to admitted to. He didn’t think it would ever be far from him. It had a way of returning, after all, a way of rising back up from the depths of his chest and wrapping cold fingers around his throat each time he’d thought he’d escaped it. 

But it was absent now. In this moment, on this day, he wasn’t that thin collection of paranoia and grief. It was still in him, of course — at this point, he was fairly certain it always would be — but there were other things there with it on days like today. There was the warm thought of Teddy waiting for him at home, the amused huff that came with Teagan’s attempts at sabotage. Today, at least, he was fine. He just needed to try to hold onto that.

Lifting the flowers from his face, he grinned at the sight of Teagan’s knife just at the edge of the bullseye. “Ah, bullshit!” He laughed, grin only widening when even the sylph in charge of the booth agreed with his victory. “Don’t be a sore loser.” Had he lost, of course, he would have been just as ornery about it, but that was neither here nor there. “Three more goes, though. I’ll use a knife this time, so it won’t matter how big it is.” He swiped one off the table, brow furrowing for a moment as he pretended to have his attention captured by something just in the distance. “The fuck is going on over there?” He asked, letting a hint of feigned concern seep into his voice. When Teagan turned to look at nothing, he quickly loosed the knife at the target.

—

“All right, all right,” Teagan put her hands up in a small truce, reaching into her pocket shortly after when she saw a woman with a platter full of drinks. “You tricked me, but unlike some people, when I point out that there’s something to look at, there’s actually something to look at.” She offered a few shiny rocks and old coins that she had polished, along with a gemstone she was lucky to find in the lake. From what Teagan could gather, it was a beautiful piece of agate, and she knew a fellow nymph would appreciate an exchange with it. 

“Mead platter coming our way. Give ‘em this—” Taking Emilio’s hand, she placed the items in it, and pointed out the gorgeous Anthousa. “Ask for two drinks. I’m runnin’ a bit low.” While he was busy with that, Teagan eyed the hatchet on the table and picked it up. She tested the weight of it and tutted to herself, deciding to use up her next two tries as quickly as she could before the drinks came up. The hatchet landed home, as did the knife, but Teagan knew she was coming up short when it came to the possibility of winning. Whether she liked it or not, even if she hit the next bullseye, Emilio was the winner. 

And he was going to be so smug about it.

“Okay, take your next three turns. I already admit defeat and will be buying the next few rounds of mead.” She paused, “But only if you don’t act like a wanker and rub this win in.”

Following her gaze to the woman with the mead platter, Emilio couldn’t help but grin. He’d give it to Teagan — she knew how to distract him properly. This time, at least, he was willing enough to let it happen. He’d already proven his point with the ax and the knife in the target, pleased enough with himself to let Teagan have a few uninterrupted tosses while he fetched the drinks. Especially if Teagan was the one buying. Emilio couldn’t pretend to understand the currency at this event, but with Teagan footing the bill? He didn’t really have to.

He approached the anthousa, who chattered idly at him as he handed her the stones and coins Teagan had handed him. Emilio wasn’t much of a talker, something the nymph seemed to recognize quickly enough. After he’d successfully gotten the drinks, she trotted off to find someone else to chat with, and there was some relief in that. The hunter knew he didn’t quite fit in here. More than that, he knew that there were plenty of people here who might like to take his head off if they knew a little more about him. It was better, he thought, to stick with the only person at the faire that he was fairly confident didn’t want to kill him. He returned to her, pushing one drink in her direction and taking a swig of the other.

Grinning as Teagan admitted defeat, he picked up one of the knives from the table and tossed it, hitting the bullseye with a flourish. Something told him they both knew he was still going to act like a wanker. 

[snuggerudism]

https://www.tumblr.com/jimmyssnuggs/745933349295702016/jimmys-mom-referring-to-hallie-as-her

how does jimmy’s mom meeting hallie for the first time go?

really, really well!! she absolutely adores hallie, and thinks she is the cutest little baby. she missed having a baby around the house, so it’s fun for her. hallie sits in her lap at dinner and it’s the cutest thing ever.

hallie loves her and is showing her all her teddy bears and toys, having her play with them alongside her

jimmy and teagan couldn’t be more happy

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Early December, before Rhett went missing PARTIES: Emilio @mortemoppetere and Wynne @ohwynne LOCATION: A local coffeeshop SUMMARY: Wynne and Emilio are walking Perro when they stop for some coffee. A lighthearted moment soon turns very real as the pair delve into Emilio's past. CONTENT WARNINGS: Sibling death, child death, suicide ideation.

It was a strange way of existing, this state Wynne found themself in. There was an endless feeling of relief that made them feel lighter, that pushed them towards believing they were more capable of things than they might have ever thought. But there was also a sense of deep dread, one that felt like there was something crawling under their skin, a cold feeling clawing at their insides. They felt it between their shoulderblades, like an icy touch. In their stomach, like some kind of bug or even a crawling parasite. In their hands, which itched for something they never seemed to quite reach.

It had gone well, hadn’t it? Only Padrig had gotten hurt and perhaps that was some kind of justice. They tried to convince themself of it, but still. Their pointing hand, their convicted voice had put him to death, had doled out a fate to him crueller than the death they would have met. It was a hard thing to live with. Murder.

But they lived. They had to live. For their brother, for the ones that had come before them. For Padrig, so that even his death wasn’t in vain. And so they continued to go out. To work. To see Ariadne and hold her tight. To try and believe that they were better than those elders. Wynne was with Emilio now, the air growing frostier around them as they walked Perro. They missed the apartment building, even if they didn’t exactly miss the Worm Row quite as much. It had just been nice to have the slayer close by.

He was still there, though. A continued presence in their life. They were endlessly grateful for him. Eyes flicked up at him as they buried their hands deeper in their jacket. “Do you reckon we’ll ever get back to our apartment?” They looked ahead again, watching Perro skip along with a smile on their face. Then, their gaze fell on a quaint little coffeeshop. “Oh!” Wynne grinned. “We should get something hot to drink. And a pastry!”

—

He’d been restless lately. Change in routine always did that, and there’d been a hell of a lot of that over the last few weeks. From the goo overtaking the apartment and rendering him effectively homeless to the quick succession with which he went from squatting in the back room of a bar to staying in a fucking mansion with someone who made his chest feel tight in a way he pretended not to notice, the recent influx of change was hard to deny. Emilio didn’t deal with it as well as he used to. Change made him paranoid, made him nervous, made him impulsive. Change made him stupid, sometimes. It drove him to run out and fight wardens in the woods, to get his ass drugged and his knee kicked in. It left him feeling like every small shift was going to pull the rug out from under his feet.

But he knew that was… inconvenient. He knew it was the kind of thing he was supposed to push down, supposed to ignore. The warden in the woods was Teddy’s demon, not his. Emilio had no real right to feel restless against a problem he’d made for himself. And he wasn’t the only one who’d been displaced by that building being covered in goo; arguably, he wasn’t even the most affected by it. Arden had lost Teagan, and regardless of how he felt about the nymph, he knew Arden didn’t deserve that. Wynne was going through a hell of a change, too, even if Emilio liked to think theirs was a more positive one. They were free now from the people who’d hung heavy over their head all their life, and that was good. But freedom was hard to wrap your head around, sometimes. Emilio knew that better than anyone.

So when they’d asked to meet up for a walk, he hadn’t thought about the way his leg still didn’t feel quite right or the fact that the stitches Teddy had included free with their ‘stop getting stabbed’ lecture itched more than he could stand. He didn’t even consider the chill that had taken hold in the air with the changing of seasons, or the way he hated the cold. He thought only of Wynne, and of how heavy freedom could feel on your shoulders. That was what was important, really.

It was easy to ignore the various aches and pains and even the cutting cold as they walked, Perro excitedly scampering ahead of them. “I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “Maybe. We know the building’s still there.” They’d been in it, after all. “Do you want to get back to it? Or would you rather keep staying with Ariadne?” There was an almost teasing lilt to his tone, a faint smile on his face. When Wynne pointed out the coffee shop, he had to hide his relief. Sitting down, he thought, sounded a lot better than it ought to. “Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll buy you something, come on.”

—

He was walking with more trouble than usual. Wynne had noted it moments before with worry, not sure what to do with the realization. They wanted to ask if something had happened, worry curling at the pit of their stomach but they didn’t want to breach that kind of topic just yet. The air felt almost light here, with the fall breeze and Perro’s excitement. They wanted to not think about the injuries shared among them both, among all those people they had grown to care about since moving here.

And though there was a desire within them to stop caring, a voice that said that perhaps it would be easier and more tolerable if they didn’t feel so bad about all those that got hurt, they could never commit to it. They didn’t even know how to, anyway. Even in those moments where they felt frozen from exhaustion, as if they would never get out of bed again, they felt themself weary with concern.

But for now it was okay to focus on the good, wasn’t it? Emilio deserved some levity and maybe so did they, something as simple and nice as a walk with a dog. They smiled a little at Emilio, before shrugging. “I don’t know. I’m fond of it. And I kind of miss my roommates and well, you.” Wynne flushed a little. “But it’s been nice to be with Ariadne this much. I do miss having my own space if that makes sense? I sometimes feel a bit like an intruder in her and her cousin’s space.” They looked up. “What about you? Don’t you miss the place a little?”

They walked up to the coffee shop. “Alright, but then next treat is on me,” Wynne said, opening the door to the shop. Their eyes scanned the menu, not dissimilar from the one at their old place of work. They missed getting to make themself all the coffees with the syrups sometimes. “Do you want to share something? What looks good to you?”

—

Silences with Wynne felt comfortable in a way they didn’t with most people. It hadn’t always been this way, of course; in the beginning, Emilio felt just as awkward with Wynne as he did with most people, uncertainty clinging to everything he did. He worried about saying the wrong thing, about doing something that was normal but hunter standards, by Cortez standards, but unimaginable to anyone else. He slipped up sometimes, still, even with them. Said something they found strange, asked questions they found concerning. But it didn’t feel as heavy as it normally might. Wynne was Wynne. For better or worse, they liked to be around him.

Enough to make them miss a terrible apartment in a building that had been falling apart even before it was covered in a fresh coat of supernatural goo, apparently. There was something kind of funny about it, the idea of Wynne longing for the place. There was something even funnier about the fact that Emilio felt the same. He missed the faint smell of mildew that clung to the walls of his apartment, missed the way his furniture all smelled like cigarettes no matter what he did, even missed Jeff’s habit of occasionally wandering into his unit when he mistook it for his own. But he missed the proximity to Wynne and Arden more than anything. 

He hummed, the answer noncommittal but telling all the same. “I get that,” he admitted. “Feel like I don’t belong much in Teddy’s space. They wanted me there enough to kidnap my dog and make me come over, but… I don’t know. Probably feel like they made a mistake now. Not a great roommate.” He’d given Teddy ample warning of that, provided them with a list of reasons why they’d regret asking him to move in, but being given warnings and actually experiencing the things you were warned about were two different things. Telling someone you were going to stab them would never hurt the way slipping the knife between their ribs would. Emilio knew that from experience.

Following Wynne into the cafe, Emilio nodded despite knowing he probably wouldn’t take them up on the offer to pay for their next little outing. He looked up at the menu, stomach clenching painfully at the thought of food. It had been harder to eat than usual lately; the sudden and dramatic change in routine had thrown his already fickle appetite out of whack, and he’d hardly managed to pick at the meals Teddy kept cooking up for reasons that had little to do with the ex-demon’s odd flavor combinations. But Wynne was asking, and he knew he’d spotted a hint of concern on their face already at the way he was unable to entirely cover up the worse-than-usual pain in his leg, so he shrugged. “Whatever you want. We can split it.”

—

It was hard to try and picture Teddy and Emilio living in that big house that they had only ever known as the Leviathan’s abode. Did Emilio sit in the same kitchen they’d sat in as they’d had dinner with the demon? Did he fill the space where Wynne had shaken their hand with the Leviathan to make a deal? And then there was the whole case of Teddy and Emilio as a combination. They were both people they admired and loved but such stark contrasts of each other. The fact that they were friends, though, was nothing if not a good thing.

“They kidnapped Perro?” Their mouth was a little agape as they asked the question, which was mostly rhetorical. Teddy had stolen a sheep as well, so for them to steal a dog to convince Emilio to live somewhere safer seemed right up their alley. Wynne frowned a little at Emilio’s assessment of himself. “Well, if they went through all that trouble they must want you there. And I’m sure you’re a fine roommate! It’s a big house anyway, right? I didn’t even know houses could be that big.” They had seen how Emilio lived, though, and could see some issues there, but they didn’t want to say them out loud. Besides, the bad was greatly outweighed by the good. “You’re a good person to have around.”

Their eyes moved over the menu across from them, written in chalk. There were a great many options and it was hard to choose, not just because of their own finicky appetite but because they also had to consider what Emilio might like. They hoped maybe sharing something would help his appetite, though. Eating with Ariadne made it easier for them to chew down on things, as seeing her enjoying things brought a little light to everything. So in the end they went for something sweet, because they gravitated towards that. “Hello, good morning,” they said to the barista, giving the kind of smile they had liked in their customers. “Can I get a latte with some vanilla? And regular milk.” They gave their decision a little more thought, as if this was one of the most important choices in their life. “Oh, and a cinnamon roll, please. And then for him …?” 

Wynne let Emilio order and pay, scooting over to the other side of the bar. They gave a small scratch underneath Perro’s chin for being a good boy and then looked at Emilio. “Would you like to sit for a while? It’s cold out anyway.” They looked down at his leg for a bit but still didn’t say anything. They tried to come up with something else to say in stead. “We should get Perro a jacket.”

—

“Sí,” Emilio responded gravely, nodding his head. “Snatched him from where I was staying. Left a note for rescate. They’re a criminal.” His tone was utterly dry, deadpan in the way Emilio’s humor usually was. Of course, he wasn’t bothered by Teddy’s ‘kidnapping’ of Perro. Perro hadn’t cared (knowing him, he’d probably enjoyed the attention), and Teddy’s intentions hadn’t been anything sinister. Teddy often had strange methods of ‘helping,’ but that was usually their goal. Even if Emilio still didn’t entirely understand why they wanted to help so badly. Or why Arden did, or Wynne, or anyone. People in this town, he thought, had trouble recognizing a lost cause for what it was.

Wynne’s insistence that he was probably a good roommate only served as further proof of that. He snorted, shooting them a look of disbelief. “I don’t even like living with me,” he pointed out. “I cause more problems than I solve, I think.” Like the shit with Parker, for example. If Emilio had killed the warden, he thought, the situation would have been far better. As it was, he’d only served to worry Teddy more, to make things worse. What if Parker came after Teddy again now as retribution? Emilio didn’t much care if he was targeted for his failure to finish the job, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of someone else paying for his mistake. Wynne was wrong, he thought. He wasn’t a good person to have around at all.

He stood back and let Wynne study the menu, eyes darting around the cafe the way they often did when he was left to his own devices. He cataloged the room while they decided what to order. Made note of the exits, studied the people around them. Paranoia was a thing that had always plagued him, but it was always worse after an altercation. The one with Parker would likely leave him nervous for months. It took him a moment to step forward when Wynne went to order, busy deciding if the woman sitting in the booth in the corner talking on the phone was a threat or not. He almost didn’t realize Wynne was waiting on him until they turned. Shuffling forward with a wince, he offered the barista a nod. “Coffee,” he said. “Black. Uh… medium.” Mundane things like ordering a coffee often felt foreign to him still. He wondered if Wynne felt the same. They were better at it than he was, and he was glad for that. After what they’d been through, he thought they deserved normalcy. 

Once he’d paid for their order, he rejoined Wynne, glancing down at Perro with a quiet hum of praise that the dog likely heard often enough to see for what it was. He looked back to Wynne as they stood, following their gaze down to his leg briefly and feeling a flash of shame or embarrassment or something along those lines that was difficult to pinpoint entirely. He wanted to insist that he was fine to walk, but doing so would mean admitting that Wynne had noticed he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to do that, either. In the end, he only shrugged. It was a listless motion, one that only saw him lifting one shoulder and dropping it stiffly. “We can sit if you want,” he agreed, pretending they were making the choice for themself instead of for him. “What’s Perro need a jacket for? He’s got fur. A lot of it. Built in jacket, no?”

—

He didn’t seem that upset by Teddy’s transgression, which made Wynne glad. They didn’t want the two of them to fight, even if they didn’t really grasp their friendship just yet. “I think we might all be criminals a little bit,” they pointed out mildly, “But that’s okay, because the rules are silly.” Most of them were, anyway. Some of them seemed a little more fair, like not murdering people. (But there should maybe be some exceptions, like in Wynne’s situation or in the case of that barn, where plenty of people had died.) “You got him back though, at least!”

His statement felt heavy and they looked at him for a moment. Emilio never really talked about himself in a positive way and it made them sad — because there was so much good and strong they saw within him. Why he couldn’t see it, they didn’t get, but Wynne was no stranger to self-hatred. Guilt and shame made them meanest towards themself too, but in their case they thought there was plenty of grounds for it. All the carnage they’d caused back home, the shortcomings of their existence, the awkwardness with which they carried themself. “That’s sad,” they said matter-of-factly. “You should try to like living with yourself. But I get it. Sometimes that’s hard. But you do solve a lot of problems.” Mostly theirs. That, too, was a point of self-hatred. Would they ever stop looking at people with seniority to guide them and hold their hands?

They watched the baristas, thinking distantly of how they had once rolled into a job like this. How Lauri had given them a chance, despite their odd appearance and hungry eyes. How it had meant freedom, making coffees for people who talked down to them or spoke to them in suggestive ways they didn’t understand. They missed it sometimes, even if their work at the gallery was a lot less stressful and came with better pay. They could go back to it, though — should they want to. The world was filled with possibility and thought hat was terrifying and overwhelming, it was also good. For now, they were just glad to be a patron.

“I do want to sit, yes,” they said, moving towards a table with Perro and Emilio in tow. For a second they wondered what people would think they were to another. Whether they’d assume they were family fo sorts. “That’s true. But maybe he does get cold. I wish we could ask him, you know? Or that we could read an animal’s minds. I bet he has a very high opinion of you.” Wynne wrapped their hands around their mug and looked out the window for a moment, before looking back at Emilio. “Are you okay? You seem like …” They shrugged. “You are hurting a little, or something. Did you fight a vampire?”

—

“I am not a criminal.” Emilio managed to sound mildly offended at the accusation, despite the fact that it was entirely true. So little of what he did operated within the confines of the law, and he knew that. Things like killing were still illegal, even when the corpses turned to dust once you were finished. Still, he was good at doubling down when he wanted to get a point across. “I rescued him. That’s how I got him back.”

That’s sad. The bluntness of the statement drew a quiet laugh from between his lips, and he nodded. “Yeah, probably is a little.” From what he’d been told, a great deal of his thought process could be described as sad. It fit well with the way his limbs sometimes felt too heavy to lift off the ground, or the way his bed became a casket any time he allowed himself to lie in it. “Easier to say it than to do it. Or to think it. I think sometimes, me trying to solve problems just makes them worse.” Or he didn’t do a good enough job. He’d saved Wynne and Arden from the vampire cult with the help of Metzli and Zane, but he hadn’t been fast enough to save Wynne the scar on their neck or the nightmares in their head. He helped with the shit back at Wynne’s compound, but not soon enough to keep their brother from dying in their place and not well enough to ease their guilt regarding what happened to Padrig. He’d never been able to save Teddy in a way that mattered, either, never been able to spare them new scars or new nightmares. The same could be said for Nora, for Andy, for everyone he’d ever tried to help. More often than not, Emilio came up short. He found new and inventive ways to fail people. It was all he ever did.

But Wynne thought he was doing a good job. Maybe that counted for something. Maybe it had to. Things mattered when you made them matter. Emilio knew that. And he was bad at making them matter for himself, bad at giving himself breaks that he didn’t feel he’d earned, but maybe he could get better at it. Maybe Wynne was right — maybe he should make more of an effort to like himself as a first step. It seemed a monumental hurdle, a mountain disguising itself as a molehill. It’d be hard to drag himself up the slope. It was hard to drag himself much of anywhere, these days.

He let Wynne guide him towards the table, took a chair and sat in it and tried to hide the relief from his expression. Sitting down didn’t erase the pain in his leg — nothing ever had, not entirely — but taking the weight off made it a little less overwhelming. He shifted subtly, stretching the limb out a little. “Maybe one day he’ll learn to talk,” he joked, leaning back in his chair a little. Perro circled a few times before curling into a ball at his feet, resting his head on one of the detective’s boots. “Weird things happen in this town, right? Wouldn’t be surprised.” He wasn’t sure he’d like it. If Perro didn’t have a high opinion of him, it’d sting more than he’d care to admit. He glanced over at Wynne’s question, frowning a little. He’d known he wasn’t doing the best job at hiding his aches, but he thought he’d been doing well enough not to alert Wynne to it. Reaching down, he rested a hand on his knee and shrugged. “Not vampires,” he admitted. There was a moment’s hesitation. “There was a hunter. Real asshole. Hurting people who didn’t deserve it. Got into it with him, and he took a cheap shot at my knee. Thing hasn’t healed right in years. Guess he made it worse. It’ll get better, I think.” Or it wouldn’t, and he’d get used to it. Either way, the worst would be over soon. “Nothing to worry about, though. All good, ¿vale?”

—

“Oh.” They blinked at that statement, feeling a little bit like they had fully missed the mark. “I didn’t — I didn’t mean you are one. I think sometimes, maybe, we do things that go against the law though, right?” Wynne gave a little smile, that grew a little brighter as they moved onto the next thing. “You did! See. You are very good at saving people and animals.” They did look a little smug when saying that.

A lot of things were sad, it seemed. As purpose had fallen away from their life, Wynne had grown very much aware of all the sadness around them. Not just that, the pointlessness of it, the endlessness of it. All of that pain and cruelty just seemed to lead to more of it. Emilio’s lack of faith in himself just seemed to lead him to more proof that he was right to not think himself good, even if Wynne saw countless of examples of him doing well. “You can’t expect to make everything you try to fix better. Sometimes we slip up, right? I … I do too. I tried to fix something and there was bad and there was good.” They frowned a little, because they struggled with this themself. “But you have made such a change for me. Can that not be something you can at least accept? You saved me that first night in the woods, because you told me what to do. You saved me from the barn.” Their breath hitched in their throat at the memory of it. “You were the one who helped me get answers. So. You made my problems better.”

It was perhaps a little much to be saying at a coffee shop, but it made them feel so defeated when they heard Emilio speak like that. Because if someone like him wasn’t allowed to feel at peace and even proud with his accomplishments, how could they be happy with their own? They, so blundering and foolish and naive, doing more harm than good? It was crucial to prove what he meant to them, to make him see. Never mind the location or setting.

“Maybe one day!” They smiled a little at the idea, wondering what kinds of things Perro would like to talk about. “Do you think he’d speak English or Spanish?” Wynne figured that Perro was a Spanish name, so maybe it would be the latter. Or maybe that kind of magic would be above any kind of language barriers that existed. They mulled it over for a moment before returning their attention to the slayer across them, frowning at his revelation. “Oh, oh no, I’m sorry that happened. I mean, it’s … it’s good that you tried to get him for doing that, you know? I have — well, you know. That I know people who were hurt who don’t deserve it.” But it was probably not Rhett that Emilio was talking about. “Did you hurt him back?” How strange, that they hoped the answer was yes. They didn’t think themself cruel, but they were angry and growing more defensive with the day. “Um, just take it a little easy, okay? I will worry a little. ¿Vale?”

—

“Not me,” he replied stubbornly, digging his heels into the proverbial ground. But there was the faintest smile on his face as he said it, the smallest hint of amusement behind his eyes. Of course Emilio was a criminal. His very presence in this country was one that existed outside the confines of the law. But it was funnier to insist on something that was categorically untrue, and he thought Wynne might find their own sort of entertainment in it, so he insisted. “Ay, maybe sometimes, when I’m saving them from… being annoyed.” As if Perro had been anything but ecstatic to be picked up by Teddy.

It was much harder, of course, to accept what Wynne was saying. That he saved people sometimes, that his failures didn’t erase his successes. It was something Teddy had been trying to drive home, too, with those framed articles lining the wall of his new office. It was a nice gesture, just like Wynne’s words were nice to hear. The idea that he made a difference, that the things he did still mattered even when he was the one doing them… It wasn’t as if Emilio didn’t want to believe it. Of course he’d like to think that he was worth something, that the shit he did made an impact that wasn’t negative. But every time he tried to let himself cling to that, every time he tried to convince himself, that living room floor flashed in front of his eyes. Those corpses followed him around like ghosts no one else could see. His daughter’s name continued to haunt him with more efficiency than any poltergeist could ever hope to manage. He saved Wynne, but he didn’t save Flora. How could any man hope to be good if he’d failed to save his own child? And how could he explain this failure to Wynne without saying too much?

“I…” He trailed off, the words forever stuck in his throat. “I don’t know. The things I’ve done, the things I’ve failed to do… I think those are bigger. I think those will always be bigger.” He could save a thousand lives, and his daughter would still be dead. He could solve a million problems, and hers would never be among them. It was pouring into a bucket with no bottom — no matter how much you put there, it would always remain empty.

And so, it was easier to talk about something else. To imagine Perro with a human voice and a lot to say. “Spanish,” Emilio replied immediately, looking almost offended that it had been a question at all. “He’s too smart fo English. ¿Verdad, muchacho?” He looked down at the dog with a fond smile before turning back to Wynne. Had they been anyone else, he might have responded with the brutal truth — that he’d taken Parker’s finger and kept it, that he’d driven a knife into his flesh and been disappointed that it hadn’t landed somewhere deadlier. Wynne could handle it, he knew, but part of him still worried they might think less of him. He didn’t want them to be afraid of him. He’d never wanted that. “I hurt him back,” he said, opting for vague instead of specific. It would do just fine, he hoped. He huffed a quiet laugh at Wynne’s concern, looking amused. “You and Teddy. Always worried. I’ve had a lot worse than this, kid. I’ll be okay. But I can promise I won’t go looking for trouble for a while.”

—

Oh. He was joking. It dawned on Wynne finally and they let out a burst of laughter, a little sudden and a little too loud. They flushed a little. “Yes, right, I’m sorry. You would not even steal a sugar packet from here.” Sarcasm wasn’t really something they were fluent in, but they enjoyed a little breeze of playfulness between themself and Emilio. They shook their head a little at his next words, this stubborn insistence that he could never do anything right an old song. “I wasn’t when you —” They halted. They didn’t want to think about how they’d been when they’d been in the barn. “You’re a real hero.”

And to them, he was. To them, there was no one who quite matched Emilio’s bravery and power, no adult who had ever really showed up for them as he had. Wynne had always had a tendency to idolize those they looked up to, of course, always yearning for someone older and wiser to tell them what to do. To guide them into the right direction. Emilio didn’t quite do that — he just offered them space, while also offering a guiding and helping hand. There was little judgment. No rules he set that they could break and get in trouble for. But there was guidance. Someone who taught them a thing or two about self defense. Someone who came for them when there was danger. Someone who cared like none of the elders, none of their parents or aunts or uncles, had ever been able to. Someone who would save them, if need be.

They listened to him quietly. They knew that there was a lot that went unsaid. That Emilio had something in his past that was ugly and felt best not spoken of — but they knew by now that those things were good to discuss. They’d learned that by doing it themself. But they remained quiet for a second, letting Emilio move from one topic to another. It was easy to smile when they saw Emilio interact with his dog, though. So easy that it almost distracted them from the pit in their stomach. “What does muchacho mean?” Wynne looked at the little creature with a fondness, before returning to the topic of conversation. Emilio, who hurt people because they hurt others. Maybe in another life they’d have judged him for it, but they knew better now. Sometimes people needed to be hurt to put a stop to all the other pain. “Well. I guess he deserved it. Who did he hurt?” They frowned a little. “Should I look out for him? Not for myself but …” The others. 

“You make it very easy to worry about you. And that’s not a comfort, that you’ve had worse. Just take it easy, okay? For at least a little while.” They took a sip from their coffee, letting the warmth gather in their stomach before returning to what he’d said before. Wynne looked at him with inquisitive things. “What kinds of things? Do you think you failed to do, I mean?” They were pressing carefully and hoped it was something gentle. “I’d … like to understand. If that’s okay.” For a moment they were caught with the fear that he’d chastise them as Padrig or their mother might have, but they remembered soon enough that this was Emilio. He was good.

—

“That would be a very bad crime,” Emilio agreed. Meeting their eye and not looking away, he reached a hand out, grabbing a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and slipping it into his pocket with a barely contained grin. “Something I would never do.” But, of course, the expression fell as they continued. A hero, they called him. There was something almost laughable about the title, something harsh and wrong. It wasn’t one he deserved. He knew that. Heroes saved people in ways that mattered. And Emilio didn’t. Wynne was alive because of Metzli and Zane just as much as Emilio. But those bodies in Mexico? There was no one left but him to carry the blame for that failure.

Letting the conversation of Perro distract him, he smiled fondly, albeit less carefree than his earlier attempt. “Boy,” he replied. He looked over to Wynne, expression turning a little more serious. “He hurt Teddy,” he said quietly. “You should watch out for him. I don’t know if he’d hurt anyone undead, but other people, maybe.” Ariadne was likely safe; cutting anything off someone undead usually just left you with dust, goo, or glitter, and most of the time, their appendages weren’t different enough from that of humans to spark interest the way Teddy’s tail evidently had. Emilio suspected Wynne was asking for their girlfriend, but he knew they had friends, too. And some of them could be in just as much danger as Teddy had been.

Wynne spoke again, and he shifted. Don’t worry about me, he wanted to insist. Worry about people who’ve earned it. But to Wynne, he belonged on that list. And maybe it was because they were a good person, and maybe it was because there was so much they didn’t know. 

He looked down at his hands. For a flash, a fraction of a second, he could see the blood there. Under his nails, going up his arms, flaking into every pore and crevice on his skin. Wynne spoke, and he knew the question was coming before the syllables hit his ears, but he dreaded them anyway. Don’t ask me that, he wanted to beg. Please don’t ask me. I don’t know how not to tell you, and you don’t want to know. But his pleas remained silent, and the question came the way it was always going to come. And how could he deny them? They were asking him. How could he say no?

He remained silent a beat longer, looking at the table the way one might look at a gallow. His finger went to his wedding ring absently, the last tangible reminder of a life he’d left behind. Wynne knew that story, knew more of the truth than most. But they didn’t know the full story, and they wanted to. They were asking. 

So Emilio would tell them.

“She rushed the wedding,” he said quietly, still fiddling with that ring. It was looser than it used to be. He didn’t have to twist it as much to get it off his finger these days. If he kept on like this for much longer, he’d have to transfer it from his finger to the chain around his neck with Juliana’s, let it rest against the silver stake charm Teddy had given him and the cross that hung alongside it. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “I wanted to wait a while, but she rushed it. Didn’t know why, but didn’t mind it. Figured it’d make her happy, yeah? Wanted that.” 

He paused, letting his eyes slip shut for a moment. His throat felt tight. The pit in his stomach, the one that was always there, felt bottomless now, like a thing you could never hope to conquer. “She told me,” he continued quietly. “That night, when we got back to our house, in the living room. She told me. She was already a few months along. Wanted to get married before she started showing, keep people from… thinking differently about her. I didn’t care about any of that. I was happy with it. With her. With both of them.” He opened his eyes, glancing up and meeting Wynne’s gaze briefly before looking away. “We named her Flora, when she was born. I was a mess. Yeah. Walking back and forth in the living room, didn’t know what to do with myself. She was so small. And it was my job — It was my job to keep her safe. And I didn’t… I couldn’t do it.” 

He inhaled sharply, exhaled with a shudder. “Couldn’t keep any of them safe. Not her, not her mother. Not my nephew or my brother or my sister. Not my mom, either. You want to know what I failed to do, Wynne, it’s — I failed to do anything that mattered. I can save a thousand people, and it won’t make up for the ones I didn’t. Nothing will.”

—

They giggled as the other reached for the sugar packet and put it away, only more giddy when they saw that grin on Emilio’s face. A rare sight they wanted more of, that they felt proud of having accomplished. Wynne also reached forward, getting a packet of sugar themself and tucking it in their jacket pocket, rubbing the grains of sugar together. “I would also never do something like that.” They had stolen plenty of packets of sugar when they’d ran away from home, as it was a free way to get some calories and energy in their systems.

“Mu-cha-cho,” they repeated. “It’s Bachgen in Welsh.” But that mattered very little. Their eyebrows creased as they looked from Perro to Emilio at the revelation that a hunter had hurt Teddy. “Then …” Were they a vengeful person? Did they believe in an eye for an eye? Why shouldn’t they? “Then that’s good. That that hunter knows what it’s like to be hurt. I will keep an eye out. I don’t want anyone I care about to get hurt.” They pushed their lips together. “Again.” They felt the topic of Ariadne hang in the air but didn’t address it, as there was another unspoken party there. Rhett. Wynne didn’t want to think about him. 

It had been forward, to ask him what he’d failed at. It was the kind of thing they had not been raised to do — Protherians didn’t ask questions. They got the information they required and did what they had to with it. You did not pry further. Did not ask your mother why you were supposed to die, did not ask your father if he ever felt sad about it, did not ask your mentor if there wasn’t anything to be done. Wynne had asked all these questions and it had never ended well. It had always ended with a reprimand, a punishment to fit the crime of curiosity.

But Emilio was not like those people. Emilio had said that he would never lie and after their first meeting in those woods, he’d told them he’d answer their questions. Those had been self-indulgent, but they had all been met with the truth. Even if it was uneasy. Even if it might have been better to not know. Still, they felt something flare through them — an anxiety that was unfair but flared harder with every beat Emilio took.

Wynne wouldn’t rush him, though. He had always shown patience with them and their confessions. So they listened quietly as he spoke about his wife. They remembered that necklace bouncing against their chest in the barn. They felt a heaviness crawl through their system as Emilio told the story of his pregnant wife, who was now dead. There was no child clinging to his legs. Perhaps it was their pessimism to blame, but they felt a scared tug in their stomach as the story went on.

He had said he hadn’t been able to save his wife. Juliana. But it went further than that. There was that little girl, Flora. Siblings, a nephew, a mother. He laid out all their bodies for them to consider, showing them the loss that hung around his neck along with that ring. Wynne looked at him quietly and sadly. A tear rolled down their cheek. Their hands fell from the coffee cup and they were not sure what to do or say, because nothing that would make this right. Just as there was nothing that would make it right that Iwan was dead.

“I … I am sorry that you lost them. I know that doesn’t help. That it’s not my fault. But I still am.” No parent should lose their child, or so some people said — but Wynne’s had been willing to watch them bleed out. Emilio had lost his Flora still. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But you told me — you told me something that I think you should listen to okay? When you told me about Iwan. That it wasn’t my fault. That it was someone else who chose to do it.” 

Someone had killed them. They understood that now better than ever. Someone had killed the people Emilio loved and he blamed himself for not having stopped it. For maybe not having died himself. Though they had no term for it, something Wynne did understand was survivor’s guilt. Perhaps not like this, but they understood the weight of being alive when another wasn’t. “But I … I don’t know. I just don’t …” They wiped at their cheek. “I’m just really sad that happened. That someone did that. But they did. Not you.” 

They reached out a hand, resting it on Emilio’s. They wanted to hug him more than just this, but it was something. “I wish it was different for you.”

—

Things were light, for a moment, with that packet of sugar in his pocket and Wynne’s laugh bouncing around the table. Moments like this were dangerous ones, Emilio often thought. You could get caught up in them, could get lost in them. They’d make you think that the world was a bright place, a decent one. They’d lure you into a false sense of security, have you thinking that life was all stolen sugar packets and quiet fits of laughter. And it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. The world, in its fullest and most terrible sense, was dead kids on living room floors and cults sacrificing their children to demons just to give themselves a leg up.

The real world had more people like Parker than it did people like Wynne. There were more people like Emilio than there were people like Teddy — more barely contained monsters who did terrible things and survived them, even when they shouldn’t. Wynne said it was good that he’d hurt Parker, and Emilio didn’t regret it but he wasn’t sure how he felt about them thinking so. Was it bad? Was it a sign that he’d influenced them, poisoned their morality to make them more like him? He pushed the thought away. “He’s still out there,” he warned, and there was something unspoken to the statement. He won’t be for long, maybe. Or I’m going to kill him just as soon as I can. Both were true, because he couldn’t fathom being dishonest with Wynne.

It was why he told them the truth, when they asked. In more words than were needed, in a monologue that was uncharacteristic for someone as frequently stilted in his language as Emilio tended to be, but that felt like the easiest way to say it. Even with his limited grasp on English, getting to the point with a long-winded story that avoided certain words was easier than saying the simple, brutal truth — that he had a daughter once, and he didn’t now. That he was only a father until his child had died. That there was a little girl, once, who had his eyes and his tendency towards keeping them open long after the sun had set in the sky, and that those eyes only existed on him now all the same. 

It was easier to make the story a long one than it was to accept just how short it really was. To avoid saying the word itself, to keep that poisonous syllable from his tongue. He gave Wynne a long-winded story that started with Juliana and ended with no one because it felt kinder than saying my daughter is dead. Because a hundred words were easier to say than four when those four words were so goddamn heavy. He couldn’t fathom the weight of them sticking to the roof of his mouth.

So he told Wynne the truth in the form of a story, and he didn’t look at them as he said it. He focused his gaze on the street behind him, and he worked to keep that street as it was, made an effort to stop his mind from transforming it into a different one, one littered with bodies. What was the greater sin, he wondered — that those bodies were there at all, or that his own hadn’t been among them? Was he angry because he’d let them all die, or because he hadn’t died with them? He’d never quite been able to figure it out.

Wynne reached for him, and Emilio didn’t pull away. He let his eyes dart to their face, but only for a moment. Their eyes were such a deep shade of brown. Hers had been, too. He hated apologies, most of the time. Someone heard what had happened and said I’m sorry, and it made him so angry that he couldn’t think, made him want to rip the words apart and sharpen the syllables into knives and cut the goddamn world to shreds with the blades. But Wynne said I’m sorry, and there was no anger even if there was no relief, either. Emilio only nodded stiffly, focusing on the street behind them again. 

It was funny, hearing his own words parroted back to him like this. They’d made sense when he’d said them to Wynne, they’d felt right. But trying to apply them to himself felt like an impossible thing. What happened to Wynne’s brother wasn’t their fault, but what happened to Emilio’s daughter still felt like his. He still saw her blood on his hands every time he looked down, still saw her corpse around every corner. It was his job, he thought, to protect her. It was what parents were supposed to do. It had been his job to protect Jaime, too, whose father hadn’t stayed to watch him grow. And Juliana, who wore his ring around her finger. And Edgar and Rosa, who were better than him, who deserved the air in his lungs so much more than he ever could. And his mother, who gave him everything he had, who made him into something useful. Of all of them, Emilio had never understood why it was him who had survived. A cruel joke from the universe, maybe; or some punishment from some higher power. 

“I should have stopped it,” he said quietly, because he should have. “I was supposed to,” he added, because he was. “What happened, why it happened, it — It doesn’t matter. It was my job to protect her, and I didn’t. It’s — Parents have a job. A duty. And I failed at mine. Failed her. There’s no way around that.” People kept telling him that it wasn’t his fault and, every time, it felt like pity. Like a consolation prize, like a thing people said just because they felt some obligation to. It wasn’t your fault, or it’s okay, or you did all you could. Empty phrases, meaningless things. The truth was right there, etched in granite. He had a job, and he’d failed it. He’d had a daughter, and he didn’t now. How could it be anyone’s fault beside his own?

Wynne took his hand, and their touch was a gentler thing than he deserved but he was too selfish to pull away. “It is how it is,” he said quietly. “Wishing won’t do anything at all.” He’d made his bed, hadn’t he? All that there was to do now was to lie in it and rot.

—

They understood the crushing weight of being alive. Not just the sheer concept of roaming this earth as a person whose heart beat and body had to keep moving in spite of it all — but to be alive despite. To have survived when others hadn’t. The guilt that came with every breath, with every step, each morning ray of sun and each sleepless night. They understood the crushing weight of having outran fate, of being alive when you shouldn’t be. They had made a trade when they had ran, even if they hadn’t done so willingly — they had still chosen their life over that of another. And with that came that pressure on their chest, that rock in their stomach and their shivering tears.

But they were also still and in spite of everything, glad to be alive. Those morning rays of sun sometimes made their stomach ache, but there was opportunity with every new breath and step and sometimes in those sleepless nights, they came to worthwhile conclusions. Sometimes Ariadne laid down next to them.

Was Emilio glad to be alive? To have survived that? To still walk here, even if his leg hurt? Even if he had a dead daughter, a dead mother, wife, brother, sister, nephew in his past? As they looked at him, Wynne wasn’t sure. It made them feel heavy. Because Emilio had laughed moments before, played such a central role in their newfound life, had so much to bring to the table — but as he sat there now it seemed like he saw nothing in it. That the crushing weight of having survived had perhaps already crushed him.

And what could they do in the face of that? What could they offer? Their apologies and expressions of empathy, but they were empty air. They knew that. They were band-aids on gut wounds. Whenever people told them such things they were nice to hear, but they didn’t change what had been done, what had gone wrong. What they regretted. What they resented. None of that could be fixed. Not with a different way of thinking, not by listening to the people whose opinions they valued. 

The truth remained, no matter what was said and done now, that their parents and community had brought their brother to the altar in stead of them. The truth remained that Emilio’s family had been slaughtered and that by some stroke of cruel luck, he’d survived as the only one. They could do nothing in the face of either thing. They blinked at Emilio, who spoke of failure and duty as if it would do anything now. As if the guilt either of them carried would do anything now. The dead tended to remain dead — it was better that way. Even if it ripped you open like this.

“I don’t —” They were quiet. Was this why he had been so angry at their parents? Why he had been so adamant about them being wrong? Why he had punched their father, why he had come to their rescue? Wynne felt something grow in their chest. Not the usual weight, but the one that came with tears. And Emilio had saved them, but he hadn’t been able to save her. So they understood, now. That it mattered less, the things he had done for them. They mattered, but she was still gone. It wasn’t like they were drawing a comparison, they were just starting to gain the picture. And it made them swallow thickly.

They didn’t want to cry over someone else’s story. This wasn’t about them. “I am sad that you feel that way. I wish — I know that if you could you would have. Saved her. But I also know words don’t really matter.” She was dead. Iwan was dead. They had both had a duty and there were a hundred things that could have gone differently, but they hadn’t. Iwan and Flora had both died due to their inaction. Wynne knew there was no making it right, even if they wanted there to be. Even if they wanted Emilio to be okay with being alive, still. They wanted to know what they could say to make it feel a little better. If there was a way to. If there was a way to come back from things like these.

And if there wasn’t, then at least they could do this. Take his hand. Get up from where they were seated and close the distance. It was a little awkward, with them standing and Emilio sat down, but it didn’t matter. Because they knew words didn’t mean anything. That the bodies remained dead and rotting. That the world was cyclical and death was part of it, and sometimes there was choice in it but most often there was not. That you had to make peace with it, even if no one told you how, just that you had to. They knew that Emilio was a man with a mind so stubborn that they couldn’t sway it now, in this coffee shop. That maybe they never had to, that they just had to do things like this. Listen. Embrace.

So they embraced him. They did it tightly, with conviction. They didn’t know if it would help, but it was better than stumbling over words and trying not to cry. “Thank you for telling me,” they said in stead, pulling back from the embrace. They didn’t want to overwhelm him. “My friend … my friend suggested we’d plant something for my brother. Maybe we can do something symbolic for her too.” Maybe that was the answer. Action, after the fact. Too little, too late, but something, at least. Something for those who lived in spite of what fate had planned for them.

—

He used to be religious. He didn’t think he was anymore — he still felt some of the things associated with religion, but the faith that was necessary to call it that had died long ago. But he used to be. He used to pray, sometimes, used to think that maybe there was someone listening, that maybe it made a difference. He’d sit on his knees with his hands clasped so tight his fingers hurt, would murmur promises that couldn’t be kept and beg for relief that never came. 

He didn’t think he’d ever been particularly good at it. There was something kind of funny about the thought. Religion wasn’t supposed to be something you could be bad at, but Emilio had been, anyway. His mother told him so once, looking just as disappointed as she always did. You only pray when you want something, she’d told him. As if God exists to be at your beck and call, as if you’re worthy of that. You serve Him. Not the other way around. He’d never been good at accepting that. He was a selfish thing, he knew; a bad one. He wanted the world to work for him. Maybe that was why it never did. 

Confession was the same. He sat in that too-small booth not long after the massacre, stared at the wall of it in silence until the priest had prompted him to speak. He remembered begging for forgiveness, remembered knowing he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t remember the exact words — most of the time after the massacre was either an uncertain blur in his mind or a too-crisp picture he didn’t want to think about with nothing in between the two extremes — but he remembered the desperation. He remembered the priest’s silence, remembered thinking anything would have been better. 

Forgiveness, as it turned out, was a thing you earned. And Emilio didn’t know how to earn his. He didn’t know how to find redemption when everyone he needed forgiveness from was too dead to offer it. People here told him it was okay — Wynne, Zane, Andy, Teddy — but it wasn’t their place to decide that, was it? There were so few people who had the ability to forgive your sins. Everyone he’d sinned against was dead, and God was silent. What was left? Who could redeem the irredeemable? 

Wynne was quiet, and Emilio couldn’t blame them. What was there to say in the face of this? What response could be given? He remembered how small he’d felt when he’d learned about their brother, how awful it had been to relay the news to them. There were moments where neither words nor actions could offer anything resembling relief. There were wounds that would never stop bleeding, aches that would never fade. They couldn’t be bandaged with pretty words or promises. They just were. 

And Wynne understood that. They said as much, admitted it. Words didn’t matter, even if they were nice to hear from time to time. Nothing would fill that gaping cavern in his chest, just as nothing would fill the hole in theirs. Flora, Iwan… Neither had deserved the fates the world had given them. Neither had earned the bloody ends they’d been met with. But what did the world care who deserved what? What happened happened, would happen again a thousand times. People died who deserved to live. People lived who deserved to die. If there was a God, Emilio thought, he’d make Him explain Himself for that. He’d make Him give a why. 

(You only pray when you want something.) 

Wynne stood, crossed the distance between them, and even now, there was a part of Emilio who wasn’t quite sure what to do with the embrace. They wrapped arms around him and he froze for a moment. Some part of him, the part of him that would always be that six year old kid locked in a shed, expected something sinister. Even knowing it was Wynne, even knowing that they would never intentionally do anything to hurt him. Some part of him was waiting for a flurry of pain, for a knife to the back or a more sinister embrace, but none came. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his arms up from where they sat at his side, wrapped them around Wynne carefully, and returned the embrace. 

They thanked him for telling them, as if the story was something they were glad to know. Emilio couldn’t imagine that it was. It was a burden, he knew; a weight. It was a heavy thing to carry, even now as it was divided among more people. Wynne, who embraced him here. Rhett, who buried those bodies in Mexico. Andy, who told him it was okay. Teddy, who insisted that his failure didn’t define him. The weight of the thing was more evenly distributed than it used to be. Emilio didn’t know if it helped, but he didn’t think it hurt. Sometimes, he thought, that was all you could really ask for.

“Someone said I should do the same,” he said quietly, thinking of the shitshow that ended with Alex knowing the truth. There was something nice about the thought, something good. He’d never been to his daughter’s grave, though he knew it existed. Maybe having something he could visit and think of her would offer some relief, even if only in the smallest sense. “I’d like you to do it with me, whatever it is. I think I’d like that.” 

Flora was gone, and it would never feel right. It would never be fair. There would be no redemption for the failure, no forgiveness. But maybe there was something to be found in the embrace, anyway. Maybe Emilio should just take what he could get.

—

The dead were without forgiveness. There was no need for such things, Wynne had learned. There was honor in death. Not only that, but it was natural. The balance of the world required that things lived and died. There was no life without decay. There were no boons from a demon without the death it required. There was a purpose to death. There was supposed to be a purpose to death. That was what they had been taught, that was how they’d lived. Sewing bones in sleeves and pillowcases, slitting the throat of a chicken, preparing their entire life to die. There had to be a purpose. So what need was there for forgiveness.

But what if what if there was none? What if these sentiments were nothing but other empty lies? All those lambs and chickens and squealing piglets that had died on the altar had been a waste. As had Jac. As had Iwan. What good was there in murder? What good was there in dying so soon? What purpose had there been in Emilio’s child being killed? 

The dead were without forgiveness because there was little left for them to do. But Wynne hoped that if they existed out there, these people Emilio had lost, that they would forgive him. Not that he’d done something wrong, but he’d done all the things to deserve that kind of mercy. For them to take the weight off his shoulders, that responsibility he carried that Wynne recognized within themself. They wished these things were possible.

They wished they could speak with Iwan one more time. That they could have known Emilio as he had once been. That their life hadn’t always been about dying, which often left them feeling as if they didn’t know the first thing about living. They wished.

And maybe that was what grief was, at the end of it all. Wishing for things that could not be. The impossibility of wanting something that was not attainable. Not because of personal or worldly limitations but because death was in the end still definite. Even if you believed in a God, a heaven and a hell. Even if you believed in reincarnation. In purpose. In fate. There was still a definite gap left that could not be filled. A constant lack. 

Wynne had ran from home, hadn’t they? They had lost people when they did. They had lost Iwan — but they could still wish to see him again, could still hope that perhaps one day their brother and them would find a way to reunite. But ever since they’d learned what had come of him since their abandonment and betrayal, those wishes and hopes had grown futile and childish. He was gone, bled out. They didn’t even know what they’d done with what had been left after all was said and done. If there had been anything left.

They wondered what had become of Emilio’s family. If they’d been buried. If the vampires had undone them as violently has they had with some of the humans in the barn. If he’d been there, to see them laid to rest. They wanted to ask, but they didn’t. They thought of burying their grandmother when they’d been young. They’d buried most of their death back at home, especially those that had died of natural causes. Those deaths were to return to the earth. Purpose. What purpose?

Emilio returned their embrace and they were glad for it, holding onto him for a moment. They hadn’t done this much at home. Their parents weren’t affectionate, except for when their father mussed their hair or flicked her chin playfully. They wondered why they were thinking of that now, that lack of a strong embrace back at home — it felt inappropriate to compare their father to Emilio. Wynne pushed the thoughts aside.

“I think we should do it together,” they said. “We can make a place for them. Together or separately, whatever is good.” They looked at him, biting their lip. “It’s too cold to do it now, the soil is too hard but we can do it when the earth is warmer and softer. We can look for a spot somewhere.” It would be good, to have somewhere to put their grief. A place to visit. Wynne swallowed thickly and moved back to their seat, blinking a few time to rid themself from the tears that were still threatening to come up. 

They took a long sip from their coffee, were quiet for a moment. They looked down at Perro. “I’m still glad we met. Even if …” They shrugged. “Even if bad things happened before that.” Maybe they both thought there was a better reality out there were they were dead, but this was what they had. And Wynne was glad Emilio was part of it.

—

Growing up, death had always been an expected thing. More so, Emilio suspected, than it was to those not raised as he and his siblings had been. It was a shadow that had hung over his life for as long as he could remember. It was reflected in his father’s absence, in the stories his mother told him, in the blood he was ordered to wash from his hands. The life of a hunter was one designed with death in mind — with years of dealing it out until it was dealt to you. It was short and violent, every time. 

One might think that this would make it less painful. Emilio used to think so. Back when he was a kid, when he had a father who existed only in the form of a name rarely spoken and a long line of relatives who died slow and bloody in ways he could only pretend to understand, he’d thought of death as a simple thing. It happened to other people until it happened to you, and it was easy. It was something you practiced the same way you practiced with your knife. If you repeated the motion often enough, you’d get good at it. You’d perfect it. And, in his arrogance, he’d thought that he had. 

But then came Victor. Then came the day his uncle went into the woods with his brother and came back alone. And death, this familiar thing, this art he thought he’d mastered, shifted so quickly into something else. It was sinister, it was heavy. He didn’t know how to carry it anymore. His mother had never been happy with his reaction to his oldest brother’s death, had never understood it. She’d be ashamed of him now, too. At his inability to compartmentalize, his failure to push the memory of his daughter beneath some forgotten rug the way she had done with her husband, with her oldest son. He was supposed to be better at this, he thought. He was supposed to be good at it.

But maybe there were some things you couldn’t practice for. Maybe you could never really get good at grief, no matter how much experience you had.

After all, Wynne had been given practice, too, hadn’t they? They’d spent so much of their life looking towards its expected end. And Emilio was certain that they didn’t deserve that, would have never told them they were wrong not to want it. Wynne deserved to live, just as Flora had. Just as Victor had, or Jaime, or Edgar, or Rosa. And if all of them deserved to live, and Emilio knew this, then why was it so hard to believe that he might, too? Why was the weight so much easier to carry when you were slipping it off someone else’s shoulders? 

Wynne held him, and his mother would have said he was weak for accepting it but he couldn’t fathom the thought of pushing them away. Wynne held him, and he let himself hold them back, let himself feel it. Was this okay? He wondered, two parts of his mind arguing. Was it okay to accept comfort, even when you weren’t sure you deserved it? Did it make him wrong, make him bad, make him broken? He didn’t know. Maybe that was a part of grieving, too: this endless not knowing. 

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice sounding odd even to his own ears. Thick, like something unseen was coating it. It didn’t sound like him, but it did, too. “Yeah. We can… We can do it together. I’d like that.” The idea of Flora having some symbolic resting place next to Iwan felt right, somehow. Two people who had never met and never would, two children snuffed out by a world too cruel to hold them who were strangers to one another, connected only by the people who had loved them. Emilio didn’t know anymore if he believed in Heaven, but maybe life after death existed in the connections you gained through the people who outlived you. Maybe there was some form of afterlife for a daughter of an angry father and a brother of a brave sibling that existed only in the plants that would grow side by side.

He held his coffee in his hands, curled himself around the smoke that rose from it. Was he better for knowing Wynne? He thought he was. Were they better for knowing him? They seemed to think so. Maybe that was the only thing that really mattered. Regardless, though, he was glad to have met them, too. Glad to know them, glad to have been able to help them even if it didn’t feel like he’d done enough. “Me too, kid,” he agreed quietly. “Yeah. Me, too.”

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current LOCATION: a pond in wicked's rest PARTIES: @closingwaters & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: teagan makes good on her offer to help emilio with his problem. CONTENT: mentions of past parental death, sibling death, & child death

Lucio had picked up on the first ring. Breathless, like he’d run to answer, like he’d been afraid if he were a second later, he’d have been met with the dial tone. It wasn’t an unfounded concern. Emilio had spent half an hour staring at his phone before dialing, another fifteen minutes with his fingers hovering over the ‘call’ button once the number had been typed in. This was the first time he’d been the one to reach out to Lucio since learning of his uncle’s survival and, if things went the way he hoped they would, it would be the last. 

On some level, he wondered if that was unfair. He hated his uncle for saving his life. Some might call that cruel, he knew. Some might say that Emilio was being unreasonable, that Lucio deserved a second chance. But God, Emilio couldn’t look at him without feeling the dried, crumbling blood beneath his own fingernails. He couldn’t hear his uncle’s voice without hearing his daughter’s screams, couldn’t have a conversation with him without bodies flickering in the corner of his vision. 

There wasn’t a world where Emilio could have a relationship with the man who’d raised him without being reminded of the man who’d denied him the chance to raise his own daughter. Not when those men were one and the same. It wasn’t good for him, for whatever was broken in his head. He was backsliding, falling back to where he’d been two years ago. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to get better, to be better.

So he dialed the phone, and Lucio answered. On the first ring, breathless and full of hope. And Emilio ached a little, but it was necessary. It was what he needed.

He arranged for both Teagan and Lucio to meet him in Gatlin Fields. Near a pond, which he thought might make Teagan feel a little more… secure. Lucio wouldn’t attack her, not if he thought it would piss Emilio off, but he figured she might want the added level of security, anyway. Emilio stood at the edge of the water, absently fiddling with a loose string on his shirt. It was one of Teddy’s. He hadn’t told the ex-demon where he was heading, hadn’t wanted them to ask to tag along because he would have said yes if they’d asked and he didn’t want them here for this. It was a shitty thing he was doing. He knew that. It was the kind of thing his mother would have been ashamed of, the kind of thing that would make Rhett hate him even more if he ever found out, the kind of thing that would make his friends frown even if they wouldn’t say anything about it. He was punishing someone for saving his life. He was punishing himself for being saved. But there was nothing else to be done.

Lucio arrived first. It wasn’t much of a surprise, given how eager he’d been. He approached carefully, hands at his side. Emilio tensed at the sight of him. He didn’t used to. The change was something Lucio noticed, and he swallowed and looked away. It was funny — this was the man who used to be a safe place to land, used to be the one opening the door to the shed where Emilio had been locked away for hours or days or weeks or years or lifetimes and letting him back into the sun. Now, given the choice, Emilio thought he might pick the damn shed.

“Mijo,” Lucio greeted, and Emilio flinched at the word. Lucio noticed that, too, seemed to hesitate a little. “What’s this about? Why are we here?”

There was a flash of Flora’s corpse at the edge of the pond. Emilio didn’t let his eyes dart to it, though it was a near thing. Instead, he forced himself to look over his uncle’s shoulder at an approaching figure. He moved past Lucio in favor of greeting Teagan with a nod.

“I didn’t know how to tell him,” he said lowly. His voice was small, and he felt small. He felt like that fucking six year old kid, just waiting for someone to let him out of the shed. There was a reason, beyond giving Teagan the security of the water, why he’d chosen to do this out in the open. The walls couldn’t close in on him if there were no walls at all.

“Milio.” Lucio spoke from behind him, and Emilio tensed. “Who is this? If — If you’re going to kill me, I’d think you’d do it yourself. I’d think you’d at least give me that.”

—

Helping a hunter wasn’t ever a gesture the nix ever conceived doing. It felt like a betrayal to her family, in a way, but there was something to be said for a man like Emilio. Though given the title of a slayer, he modified the teachings he was taught from childhood, enforcing the idea that the beasts he was meant to hunt were people too. And they were, all of them. Even those like Teagan who spilled blood for the sake of nature or their calling. It was never black and white, from what she had learned and had been living within. It was for that reason that she found it so easy to help the man take care of his own blood without spilling any of it. 

Out of every hunter Teagan had met, Emilio was, by far, only of the only that stood in the grey area, and she wanted to stand there with him. By a pond, of all places, which made the nix’s stomach flutter with gratitude. He understood what she could do mere feet away from it, which meant she had his trust and permission to do what she needed if things went awry. In doing so, she thought it was only fair to give hers to him to keep the balance, and she hoped he could see the resolution and determination in her eyes as she walked up to stand next to him while the other stood ahead. 

“Well ya could’ve told a lady a warnin’. Now I gotta explain myself.” She greeted quietly with a playful roll of her eyes, trying to relieve some tension and then standing quietly. There was something in the man’s eye that didn’t quite sit right with the fae, making her stomach sink and her nerves burn. Her instincts were rarely wrong, but they were forged in the fires of a past she could hardly let go of. Perhaps, Teagan thought, relying on them at that moment wasn’t the best course of action if she was going to venture towards healing. Ideas to make one particular warden pay, be damned. 

“Not here to kill, don’t ye worry. And you don’t gots to know my name either. Just…a friend.” She sniffled, patting her eyes dry as she made her way toward to water until her heels touch the edge. With her hands raised as a gesture of peace, Teagan paused just before urging the water to lap across her feet as a way to reassure herself. As long as the water was near, she was safe. They were safe. But Teagan didn’t think Emilio’s uncle had any intention to attack. He seemed all too keen on mending their relationship. If there was one to be saved at all.

“Anyways, go on, then. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be back here until ya need me.”

A friend. Was that what they were? Emilio didn’t feel the need to correct the term, didn’t feel like he should deny it. A short time ago, he would have. Months ago, just after that shit at the lake or Teagan’s encounter with Ren that had sent her spiraling backwards in her own attempts at growth, he would have been quick to speak up. Even to Lucio, even when it didn’t matter. Emilio’s stubbornness would outweigh his logic every goddamn time, and he knew it. But that desire to reject the notion of friendship didn’t exist here the way it had back then. He didn’t know if it was because of the heaviness that had settled over everything since his uncle’s reappearance or if he really did consider Teagan a friend now. He liked to think it was the latter, but maybe the former was more likely. Old dogs and new tricks didn’t go together, after all. 

Lucio continued to eye her warily, eyes darting between her and Emilio with a question curving into his brows. “You need a friend here for this? I don’t recognize this one.” Which meant he hadn’t found anything about Teagan when he’d been digging into Emilio’s life, hadn’t seen any presence of her in his contacts. It made sense. Until just a few weeks ago, he was pretty sure she’d had him blocked on most of her accounts. 

“Yeah, well, you scared all my other friends,” Emilio bit out, trying not to think about the messages he’d gotten while his uncle had been making his rounds. He’d scared Emilio, too. He could still feel a phantom stutter of it in his chest, like his heart hadn’t yet caught up to the fact that he wasn’t in danger.

(What a stupid notion. He was always in danger.)

Glancing to Teagan, he nodded his head. She’d wait. She’d let him do what he needed to do, and then she’d help him close the chapter. He felt a surge of gratefulness that he didn’t dare voice, and he turned back to Lucio. His uncle watched him expectantly, glancing down to the water at Teagan’s feet and the slightly unnatural way it was moving. 

“She’s a nymph,” Emilio confirmed lowly. Lucio let out a sound of quiet surprise.

“I doubt Everett would approve of —” 

“He’s not here,” Emilio snapped, anger and grief swirling together in his chest. “You made sure of that, didn’t you?” Lucio looked almost apologetic, and Emilio continued before he could voice an apology that he didn’t want to hear. “I need you gone, tío.”

“I told you, I don’t —”

“No. I need you gone. With you here, it’s like —” He cut himself off, hands trembling as he brought them up to push the hair off his forehead. It was sweaty, in spite of the cold. He let out a slow, shaky breath. “I held her, you know. After, when I found her in — in that damn room. I held her, and there was no heartbeat. It took me weeks to get the blood out from under my nails. And you — You’re here, and I can feel it sticking to my hands. I can feel the weight of it. So I need you gone, Lucio. And if you give a shit about me, the way you say you do, you’ll give me that.”

A silence stretched over them. Even the lapping of the water at the edge of the pond seemed muted, somehow. Finally, Lucio spoke. “What do you need her for, then?”

“For you to promise.” He glanced to Teagan, offering her another nod. “You promise. She makes sure you stick to it. And — And we all go on with our fucking lives. You walk away, and I stop seeing my daughter’s corpse around every corner.” It was saying too much, he knew. It was telling Teagan something that so few people were aware of. But she was here, and she was giving him this. She could know if she wanted to know. She’d earned that much.

“You know this won’t stop that,” Lucio said. Emilio only shrugged. It had to be better, didn’t it? It had to be better than carrying on this way.

—

Emilio’s partial tale felt all too familiar, stoking a pain that never quite went out for the nix. She knew, if only a little, that the slayer had experienced great loss, but she’d never cared enough to ask. Or maybe she respected that heavy burden enough to leave it alone. Regardless, Emilio’s story was a tragic one, and it intersected so closely to Teagan’s that she couldn’t help the hitch in her breath as he spoke. Whoever he held, whether it be a friend, a lover, or child, they were important, and he was reliving that awful tragedy over and over again. 

Teagan knew a thing or two about that. She’d held dead bodies, too. In arms much too small to keep them fully wrapped in an embrace. She felt the blood caked in her clothes, heard the screams until they faded into an endless silence. Even in that moment, she could, and she was surprised to feel sympathy for a hunter that knew exactly how that felt. The water reacted in earnest, a few ripples turning into large laps against the edge of the pond. With a swallow, a tear cascaded down Teagan’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away, looking at Emilio with a somber and apologetic look before looking at his hands. 

How tired were they? And how many lives had they taken? Did they feel the same as hers? Mentions of a promise forced Teagan back into the conversation, and she shook her head and blinked her thoughts away. Musing would have to wait.

“Mind the words, dear.” Stepping forward, the water loosely followed, never thinning too much to remain near her feet. “Every corner. You’re causing more harm than good here, and by the sounds of it, he’s done letting you harm. A little too good at that harming, aren’t ya?” Teagan knew her tone had a little too much attitude, as if she were defending a friend, but that was exactly how she wanted it to be heard. She was a protector. They both were. It just so happened that Teagan was taking the reins that time around, and she was happy to do it. Her. A hunter killer. 

The tides really have changed. 

“So,” Teagan cut to the chase, not letting herself get too preoccupied with her thoughts. “Promise me you’ll leave come morning, and you won't come back.” She took a small step forward, eyes darkening as they locked with the man’s. “Promise me you won’t come looking for him in this town again, or in any place he decides to live. Because…” She scoffed, shaking her head, “You’ve already destroyed his life once. Don’t go on being daft and ruining it again.”

Lucio looked stricken, and Emilio wondered if it was real or not. There was a time when he wouldn’t have doubted it at all, a time when he’d taken everything Lucio said and did at face value and accepted it all as the truth. As a young boy growing up without a father, he’d found it easy to allow his uncle to slot into that empty space, hadn’t questioned it at all. Lucio would never lie to him, because Lucio loved him. Lucio would never hurt him, because Lucio was on his side. 

And then, the streets were filled with blood and his daughter was dead in his arms and his uncle stood in the middle of it all with apologies that solved nothing and good intentions that led them both into Hell.

Funnily enough, he believed the look on Teagan’s face without the same swirling of doubt in his gut. Teagan looked empathetic, and even though Lucio had been on those bloodstained streets, even though he’d lost the same people Emilio had lost, he found Teagan’s empathy far more digestible than his uncle’s. Whether it was simply because she hadn’t been present for the massacre in Mexico or because she’d been in his position when it was her family who was slaughtered was hard to say. 

Lucio looked at her, too, eyes darting over her face like he was trying to puzzle out what her expression meant, what her tone implied. He’d never been good at reading people. He’d never needed to. Elena was the one who’d unraveled intentions and viewed situations with a critical eye to plan their resolution; Lucio was the steady hand. Teagan’s expression was a mystery to him, Emilio knew. He didn’t have the tools to understand any of it.

So it was no surprise when his eyes shifted back to the more familiar variable, searching for a chance to meet Emilio’s gaze. Emilio refused it, focusing on a spot in the distance instead. “I never meant for any of this, Milio,” Lucio pleaded. “You have to know that. I’m sorry. I loved her, too. You know I did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Emilio choked out, clenching his fists so tightly that he felt his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. “It doesn’t matter what you meant to happen. She’s dead, Lucio. They all are. And you — All you are now is a reminder. A reminder of the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I’m fucking tired, man. I’m tired of being reminded. You said you wanted to help me? This is how you do it.” 

It was quiet, for a moment. Lucio kept looking at Emilio, and Emilio kept looking anywhere else. Then, with a defeated exhale, he turned back to Teagan. “I’ll do it,” he said quietly, “if you promise me something, too.”

“That’s not —” Emilio’s protest was silenced by a sharp glare from his uncle, that old lesson of speak when spoken to flooding back over him and filling his lungs, choking off any further words he might have wanted to say. He felt like a child again. Funny how good Lucio was at making that happen.

Looking to Teagan again, Lucio tilted his chin up. “You promise me… You promise me you’ll look out for him. Don’t let him… Don’t let him die for my sins. You care about him, too. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. So… promise me you’ll do everything you can to make sure he’s okay, and I’ll do what you’re asking me to do.”

—

Teagan was baffled at the amendment the man was requesting, and she grit her teeth to prevent herself from reacting harshly. Rolling her shoulders, she shook her head with a few disappointed tuts. “Why are you lot so horrible at weaving words together? Not just that, boyo, but you lost the right to request anything a long time ago.” She inhaled deeply, a little shakily as she found herself actually considering the proposal. That in itself was a feat for someone like her, someone who’s vengeance was toward anyone like Emilio. Her heart raced, at odds with itself as it ran in circles trying to find the right place to take a rest. 

Taking the man’s amendment would be stupid, what with Emilio’s self-sacrificial nature. No one could protect him from himself or his need to reunite with his family without taking another way out. Still, there were other things he could be protected from, and it could be done. Teagan just had to alter the request slightly so that the smallest of injuries wouldn’t send her careening into death’s arms. Because she always saw worth in protecting, and to her surprise, once again, she wanted Emilio to fall beneath her arms. He was her friend now, and maybe it’d take a while to consider him someone she loved, but she did care about him, and by the Waves, she understood what he needed. 

“Promise me you won’t come looking for him again or contact him, and I’ll be there to help him and protect him from death as best I can, when I can. Can’t stop him from being himself.” Teagan shuddered, a tear falling that she didn’t realize was brimming in her eye. The man was a blurry mess of colors and blobs, and for a few moments, she kept quiet to wrap her mind around the fact that she was doing this for a hunter. One she actually wanted to keep from harm, though she knew that would be like trying to keep her from the water. 

“Deal?”

Lucio’s insistence at getting something out of the deal was hardly surprising, though Emilio doubted it would be accepted. Teagan owed him nothing and owed Lucio less. He half expected her to laugh, or to simply walk away, and he prepared himself to argue his uncle into complacency. He needed Lucio gone, and if this option didn’t work, all he’d have left was the knife in his pocket. He didn’t want it to end that way; he didn’t think Lucio did, either. It was a good bargaining chip, a decent threat. Do this, or I’ll kill you. Wasn’t that the only thing either of them ever really understood?

But, to his surprise, Teagan didn’t leave. She didn’t demand that he talk sense into Lucio, either. Instead, she wove together a promise, and Emilio let out a small sound of protest. “You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly, looking at Teagan. “I’ll get him to agree either way. You don’t have to do that.”

“You’ll get me to?” Lucio sounded half amused, the way he used to when Emilio was a kid going on and on about how he knew he’d be able to kick Rhett’s ass if it came down to it, or insisting that he had no idea who’d kicked a hole in the wall of the shed. Back then, that fond amusement in his uncle’s voice had filled him with warmth. Now, like everything else, it only ached. Emilio shot him a glare, but the world felt too heavy for him to put any kind of heat behind the expression. 

Lucio looked away, settling his gaze on Teagan instead. He seemed to consider her for a moment before nodding. With one last glance to Emilio, he spoke. “Okay.” He was looking at his nephew as he said it, though the word was clearly meant for Teagan. “Okay. I promise. Give me until the morning to get gone, and I’ll leave. I won’t reach out to my nephew again, and I won’t look for him. But…” He looked back to the nymph now, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “This won’t prevent him from reaching out to me, will it? If he chooses to.”

“I won’t,” Emilio bit out. “I won’t choose to, so it doesn’t matter.”

Lucio paused for a moment before sighing. “Okay,” he said again. “It’s done, then?”

—

Of course Emilio would want to argue. Whether it was to keep Teagan from doing something stupid or to keep himself from having someone take care of him, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, she stood firm, quieting Emilio just as quickly as he protested. “It’s my decision.” The two men went back and forth again, and it wasn’t until Emilio’s uncle finally complied that Teagan inserted herself back into the conversation again. “It won’t, but it’s as he said, it doesn’t matter so long as it’s his choice.” She rolled her eyes and backed away, water following closely again. The negotiation was at its end, and if Teagan was reading Emilio correctly, he needed his uncle gone from his sight as soon as possible.

“It’s done.” The pond lapped with increasing force, idling for just a brief moment. An eerie silence fell around the trio, and as a smile grew on Teagan’s face, the water struck Emilio’s uncle. Not with enough force to hurt. Just a little push for him to leave. A small sentiment, considering how the nix’s and slayer’s first interaction went. “Now leave. If you’re not gone by morning, who knows what’ll happen to ya. Hope you don’t got too much to pack.” 

Sauntering back over to Emilio, Teagan patted his shoulder, offering a slightly amused smile. She trailed along the edge of the pond, landing herself a few feet from the two men in an attempt to give Emilio the space to give whatever goodbye he wanted. If there was going to be one at all. At this point, Teagan wouldn’t be surprised if Emilio left his uncle on the ground in a sputtering mess to get the water out of his mouth. Alone. Just as he had left Emilio after his horrendous mistake. 

There was no kind of outward sensation accompanying the bind. No physical feeling, no tangible proof. There hadn’t been any when Siobhan bound him, either, hadn’t been any way of knowing that it had been done beyond the knowing. Even so, as Lucio made his promise and Teagan confirmed that it was done, Emilio felt a rush of relief wash over him so thoroughly that it felt like a physical thing, like the waters of the pond Teagan stood at were rushing over his shoulders and washing the blood off his hands at last. His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. 

Lucio took a step away from the water, looking down at his feet and swallowing. “I won’t change my number,” he said, trying to meet Emilio’s eye. Maybe it was childish, the way Emilio refused to raise his gaze and allow it. Lucio stopped trying after a moment, sucking his teeth. “If you ever wanted to talk, I won’t change my number. I — I love you, Milio. I mean that. It won’t change. So I won’t change my number, and you can call me. Okay?”

Emilio didn’t respond and, after a moment, Lucio took off. To pack his things, maybe, the way Teagan suggested he do. The moment he was gone from view, Emilio released a breath, letting himself take a step backwards. He trudged over to Teagan, hands stuffed in his pockets out of view as he fiddled endlessly with the ring on his finger. He could feel his hands trembling, but the rest of him was, too, so what did it matter?

For a moment, he stood beside Teagan in silence, looking out at the water. The waves lapped around their feet, and he wondered how much of it was her and how much of it was nature. He closed his eyes, listening to it. He thought it might be peaceful; he didn’t know for sure. Peace wasn’t something he was familiar enough with to recognize. “You —” He broke off, inhaling shakily. “You told me you owed me a favor, once. After the shit with Arden in that barn. This was it. We’re even. You don’t owe me anything, I’ll say whatever I need to say to… get rid of that. This was…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Thank you. For this. I know — I know what it means, saying that to you, but I’m saying it. I mean it. I appreciate it.”

—

The man continued to babble, and there was no sense to them, as if he’d lost all of it to the conversation he’d had with Emilio. Or had it left him a lot sooner than that? Perhaps, if Teagan knew how long ago Emilio had lost everything, she’d be able to give an estimate in years, but that mattered very little right then. Next thing she knew, she and the slayer were standing alone by the pond, and she had to stop herself from scoffing at the show of gratitude. Friends didn’t need to express that, but Teagan understood the sentiment, especially after how strained and uneasy their relationship was.  She chose to ignore it, anyway, linking her arm with Emilio’s in a show of compassion. 

“You hear that?” Without saying a word, the nymph gestured for Emilio to close his eyes again. She’d seen his attempt to listen to Mother Water, and she hoped with a little help from her, that he’d be able to hear what she was offering. After what he’d been through, Teagan felt like he deserved to know what that peace was, and how to listen for it when he was alone. “Water is your friend now, and it’s always been a part of you. No need to fight it. There’s even a bit of water in that whiskey you like so much.” 

She chuckled lightly, clearing her throat. “But really listen now, okay? He’s gone, and this is what you’re hearing now, after all of that. He’s gone and you can let yourself relax next to the one thing that holds memories far longer than you and I will exist. In some way, the cycle continues, but it’s the bend that you have to focus on. Hear it? Hear how the water trickles and bubbles and treads against itself?” Teagan gave Emilio’s arm a squeeze, closing her eyes with him as she guided them both through the sounds. She could feel the water’s strength thrumming against her skin, and the pull of its love in her chest. Emilio couldn’t feel it, but maybe, just maybe, he could hear what she meant. “The bend has many directions, and water always flows. It’s peaceful, that’s what it is. Focus on that, and know that you can go anywhere now.”

It still felt like the world was closing in. Like his lungs were constricted, like he was locked in something so much smaller than that training shed, like he was bleeding out on the living room floor. How long would it take for the healing to feel like healing? Teagan’s family had died over a decade ago, and it was still etched into her skin. How many times would Emilio have to relive that day? How many more times would he wake up on that living room floor?

Teagan’s arm linked with his, and she didn’t mention the thank you. Emilio didn’t know if that meant she hadn’t bound him; it was hard to care much about it. After today, after what she’d done for him, there were certainly worse people to be bound by. He tried to listen to the water, tried to imagine it the way she was saying — something that was a part of him, a part of the whiskey in his glass and the people in his heart. There was some comfort in it, even if his chest still felt tight. Even if the world was still closing in.

He nodded along as she spoke, even if he suspected it made more sense to her than it did to him. Naturally, Teagan understood water and nature far more than Emilio ever could, and he’d never pretend to believe otherwise. Still, it wasn’t completely incomprehensible, what she was describing. And the fact that she was taking the time to say it, to try to offer him some kind of comfort? That meant a lot. “I’m going to… hang here for a while,” he said quietly, and it came out hoarse. “You don’t have to stay. I’m all right. I just… need a minute.”

—

The emotion in Emilio’s voice was all Teagan needed to know that he’d listened for what the water offered, understood what he had now, if only a little. It was a lot to experience, and for someone who wasn’t connected as she was, he certainly seemed to wade the settling waves and be tethered to them. As much as he could without being a nymph, anyway. Seeing that is what allowed Teagan’s heart to accept his request to be alone. Because she’d had to listen and wade many times before, her entire life, really, and she knew Emilio had to do the same. 

Much like him, or exactly like him, she’d had to listen for the bend while she accepted her new life, her new place with fewer siblings and more grief than she thought possible. Teagan let herself be swallowed by it as she rolled and tumbled within, and she was disappointed to admit that she didn’t allow any room for peace like she urged Emilio to search for after letting the man who essentially killed his family leave. That realization burned like acid in her throat, and it trickled down into her stomach until nausea hit her like a truck. 

“Okay.” 

Emilio let go of a murderer in some way, but she could not, and maybe she never would. There were too many to allow to live, and closure wasn’t something Teagan knew how to find in that bend she listened for. Not yet. But maybe if Emilio had let go and chose to find a path that suited him better than the weight he forced himself to carry, then she could too. Eventually. For the moment, Teagan didn’t let herself linger in her head or in Emilio’s space, and she walked away feeling a little heavier, but appreciated knowing the slayer let her take a piece. He wasn’t so bad. For a hunter. 

[coffincoven]

“ look at me. “ // @hollowedchest

this is the part of the job that's never easy. not everyone makes it, a hospital is filled with death. teagan for the most part is good at shielding herself from it all. you have to care these people but you can't let yourself get attached.

in this case, she never had time to get attached. a drunken parent, driving with their five year old in the backseat. the car wrapped around a pole. the child was covered in blood and wounds, weakly clutching a white teddy bear stained red. the parent, of course, is completely fine. a bruise on their head.

she held the little girls hand as she died, and she swears she felt it. it took her breath away and she had to take an early break.

she didn't check her phone, didn't know that clint was coming to bring her coffee when he finds her kneeled down on the side of the hospital. there's blood on her hands and on her scrubs.

clint's hand on her face snaps her back just a little. taking a moment to process the words and his presence. 'look at me' he says.

she takes a shaky breath, wiping her nose. "is that coffee for me?"