[traycontini]

Text to Tray

Romeo: Hey, I need to ask you about something which might have fallen into your possession. It used to belong to your ex. It’s a necklace, gold, looks like the front half of a skeletal horse? You wouldn’t happen to still have it would you?

Tray: I'm not sure. I remember it. If I do, it's in my stuff at Caim's and I don't think it's best if I just walk in there just yet. A little too soon. What's going on?

Romeo: Too soon? Am I missing something here?

Romeo: It’s one piece of two halves and an incredibly powerful magical object. I need it. You and Caim are/were close right? You wouldn’t happen to know who the dragon Minzy left her belongings to would you?

Tray: Yeah, She has a bedroom in the Venice house and the Russian estate. He destroyed her personal home. But, kept anything extra personal to him in a little Minzy shrine in his personal bedroom in the Venice house in front of a blinged out storage tubs Jules had gotten a hold of which I'm pretty sure contain more of Minzy's stuff. It was a forbidden zone. Might even have magic on it. He keeps his sword in front of it all and it feels like it's watching you even though it doesn't have eyes. Always gave me the creeps.

[traycontini]

Text to Tray

Romeo: Hey, I need to ask you about something which might have fallen into your possession. It used to belong to your ex. It’s a necklace, gold, looks like the front half of a skeletal horse? You wouldn’t happen to still have it would you?

Tray: I'm not sure. I remember it. If I do, it's in my stuff at Caim's and I don't think it's best if I just walk in there just yet. A little too soon. What's going on?

[traycontini]

[traycontini]

((because this a Tray way too snazzy dressed for GhosTown in his prepified mode, jacket on the armchair, getting ready for “mandatory” therapy sessions Docky has him in that no one, much less Re actually ordered to help guide him through his transition - because you know Docky would go there since Tray doesn’t know any better)) 

[traycontini]

damienwilde‌:

Death just didn’t have the same meaning to Damien as it seemed to have to everyone else. How could it. She’d not only grown up in a place surrounded by people who were already dead but almost everyone in her family had died at one point or another and still come back. Those in her life who hadn’t returned, she’d just been sent right down to hell to drag back. Not that it was something she ever wanted to do again, those trips to Hell collecting Lost Boys for the Horned King were some of the hardest things she’d ever done. She’d seen things in Hell, experienced things there she never wanted to go through again and it was during those gruelling trips where she’d decided then and there she was entirely okay with never having anything to do with Hell, demons and the things which happened there. To this day she still had nightmares about the boy she’d had to wade through boiling oceans of blood to drag out and he hadn’t come back with her willingly.

She’d go back there though if Tray ever thought past what he knew of the world and decided he wanted her to find his mother. She was almost certain the request would come one day and she wasn’t at all looking forward to it but she’d do it for him nonetheless because if Damien had learned anything at all in her years it was that the only people who truly died and didn’t return were the very select few killed by Jean-Auguste’s side of the family.

It wasn’t even until the thought occurred to her that she really started to piece together what had happened, why it had been Re who had brought Tray to GhosTown. Why she could hear the hustle and bustle of excitement moving about GhosTown. A Lost Boy wasn’t a Lost Boy until they killed their parents. It was why Damien would never truly be one.

She honestly didn’t know if Re had done it for her or if he’d done it to get one over on Caim but for now, despite the state of the man she was pressed against, Damien was grateful. She knew she’d have to find Re eventually to thank him but that could wait, for now she simply stood there fully clothed and pressed against the Shifter beneath the warm spray of the shower, not moving a muscle and not saying a word. She had absolutely not idea what was going to happen now or what life was going to be like, she’d gotten so used to knowing she’d never have what she truly wanted, and now that she had it she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She’d spent so long convincing herself there was nothing she could do, that nothing would ever change their situation because it was what it was, that now she was struggling to even realise it had actually happened.

It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream, some secret and dark little desire come to life which was both far too good to ever be true and far too painful to ever be fantasy but as the fire flickered and burned out on the tiles and as the water washed the last lingering scent of Rosalie down the drain, Damien felt Tray’s arms shift around her, she felt the mobility start to return itself to his body and when she lifted her head from his shoulder to see the faintest of curves brushing the very corner of his lips she couldn’t help but return it with a gentle one of her own.

“Hey you.” She spoke softly, her hands slowly sliding from his shoulders to his elbows in one smooth motion. It hardly seemed fair that despite the situation one look from him, his eyes meeting hers with more of their usual light, made her stomach twist itself into knots and her heart feel as though it were about to explode. Tray had a way of making her feel as though her skeleton wanted to wriggle and dance it’s way out of her skin if she couldn’t get close enough to him but for now she just took a breath and forced herself to be still, listening to the sounds all around them.

“You’ll get used to the noise. I promise.”

“Until then you can use my headphones, Gadget and Docky made them for me so they should work just fine on you until then.” Speaking of, Tray was going to need some clothes unless he wanted Lost Boys to come barging in and drag him naked off to his own welcoming party. Shirts weren’t a problem, Damien had stolen more than enough of them and brought them here with her over the months just to have his scent around but the pants…

With a mental little shrug she sent a request, or more like a thought command out to Beckett for the Werewolf to bring over a clean pair of pants that would fit Tray.

“Promises aren’t something I’m used to believing in.” 

He was still smiling as he let his hands roll into hers after they ran down his arms. He didn’t seem too concerned. 

((NW))

His expression barely changed. The focus of his eyes on hers didn’t at all. 

“Thanks.” He said about the head phones. 

Then right as Tray was leaning in like maybe he was going in for a kiss of his own the front door slammed open. 

“Reporting pants for duty.” Beckett saluted off the top of his head and then quickly heard his own mistake. “I mean reporting for duty with pants?” Then he looked down and realized he was only in his boxers because he got straight up from his bed when he heard his command and felt the need to full fill it 

“Or not?”

He starting laughing, “I brought your damn pants and I might have started partying for this shindig too early.” That’s when he realized he was talking to no one but a cracked open bathroom door. 

“Damien?” Hawk started to come towards the door as if no boundaries existed because really, when was there ever? 

Tray’s eyes started to shoot wide open as he heard the clammering closing in on them so quickly. Plus, as a cat, the scent of dog started to fill his nose and if Tray had hackles right then, they’d have stood completely on edge. The hiss came out either way. A human form full on startled feline hiss that could only be seen on a cat with fully arched back and straight up tail of pure puff ready to swipe with retractable claws if anything came near it. 

[traycontini]

damienwilde‌:

Damien didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know what to say, what could she say. Once Tray pulled back from the hug the look on his face froze her in place, then came his confession, the tears and the way he looked at his hands completely broke her heart.

She hadn’t wanted this for him, she never had but how could she say that to him now? How could she tell him that she’d never been missing, that she’d never been going anywhere when he’d already done what he had? Tray had killed his mother, the evidence was all over him speckled in blood and drenched through his scent but still the very idea of it struggled to properly sink in because Damien hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t known he was even considering the idea. Every day she’d stood back and watched as the Shifter had become more and more brainwashed by Caim, she’d listened in silent agony as he’d even started to tell her how he liked and accepted his position in the Demon’s life.

So what had changed?

The answer should have been obvious to her but it wasn’t. The reality of what had just happened was drowned out by the shock. Saying she was sorry didn’t quite seem to cut it and saying thank you just felt a million times worse so for a long time she didn’t say anything at all, she just reached up and slowly took his hands, covering those smeared drops of blood with her own, hiding them from his view.

((NW))

“Come with me.” She breathed out slowly, eyes searching his face, her thudding heart remaining a lump in her throat as she leaned in to press a kiss to his lips and then turned away from him, leading the Shifter by the hand without another word down through familiar corridors toward her room.

Damien’s room still looked the exact same way it had when she’d first arrived there, it was completely void of personality save for the guitar leaning against the wall beside a bed with a personalised tombstone headboard. For all the time she’d spent in GhosTown recently the room was scarcely used, she only ever went in there to sleep and even then most nights when she stayed were spent in Cancer’s room instead usually annoying Hawk through the wall when she couldn’t sleep.

Now though, she simply closed the door behind them and lead Tray into the bathroom instead where she let him go to turn on the shower before turning around to look at him once more. She didn’t say a word, just watched his face as her hands slowly moved to slip the suit jacket off his shoulders, sliding it free from his arms before dropping it to the floor. Next her hands wandered to the buttons of his vest and so on until his clothes were a small pile on the bathroom tiles and she nudged him gently into the shower beneath the warm spray of water. Following in after him completely clothed, Tray’s bloodied suit erupting into flames behind her, burning away to nothing.

He could follow that voice. He could follow that face, those eyes. That kiss. 

He followed her guidance with no particular inclination to go anywhere, but wherever he could keep her in his sights. He felt numb yet hyper-aware of touch, the warmth of her hand, the click of the door’s sound made him jump. 

Her gentleness was noticed and experienced like the press of a soft fluffy blanket against one’s skin, soothing, comforting. He let her disrobe him and felt the water at his feet. 

Though he was bare there was fabric between them and he could nearly sense ever fiber, every strand that made up the pattern of criss crosses that created fabric stitch by stitch. His arms looped around her and pressed her against him where he could settle into the warmth when the flames burst. He turned his head to watch the fire snuff out what was left of his mother in the room. 

Between the fire and the water she slowly disappeared until there was no one left but Damien and Tray. 

Then the lingering smolder of the fire sparked the memory of Caim and the part of Tray that had found his peace there, held some sort of loyalty felt ashamed of his betrayal. But, now that he had no obligation to uphold anything to the demon, owed him nothing, he felt a new type of confusion. Was it a mask to help himself cope or were those his real feelings? They felt blurred and his heart was as disoriented as his head. Even his surroundings were off. He could hear the noise and clatter of the lost boys gearing up for his celebration. The mere thought of the reality of who these people were was wild. Child murderers all grown up, every single one, loyal to self proclaimed kings that had taken over the world. When he realized how much that was normalized and not shocking to his system after all his time in the Hellbird’s world too, that’s when it dawned on him, this was his world and Caim was only a small part of that now. How did the runt of the litter and unwanted son of a vampire mobster end up important to anyone much less the Emperor of Hell or Kings of the Earth? His mind started to wander from the question as he caught her scent again. He didn’t give one damn shit. He didn’t care to think on any of that at all. The only world he really needed was right there in his arms and that’s when the clearing breath of relief finally blew out for him. 

Everything in the room didn’t feel so distant anymore. Sounds weren’t so isolated. “Mmmm.” The deepest sigh came out. The vague hold of his arms gripped a more cradling embrace around her. 

Her. 

The him that changed his life and gave him something more to live for when his head would get too lost in the depressing void of his existence and reminded him  he was still alive. His pregnant wife. At least that’s what Damien was to him, no ceremony needed to feel it. 

His lover was more a miracle worker than any angel he’d ever heard. Virgin mothers, what’s the fun in that? Trumpet calls, fuck your ego. God’s forgiveness bestowed upon your fear of death because you weren’t good enough for Him. Nah. Feeling like a wretch for existing with the cards you were dealt never did seem right to him. He could never sing Amazing Grace and not feel wrong calling himself  a wretch for goodness fucking sake. He would never call his children that. How could any God and seriously call himself their father? Fuck all that. He had someone more than any God could ever plan. More than a woman or a man. He knew it was just dumb luck that brought him here, but he was the luckiest damn man in the world.

 He had a partner that could scour the depths of Hell and bring lost boys back to The Horned King. He could still feel the slap of Re’s hand on his face. The recollection of how his deep voice felt more like vise grip around his throat when he asked why he was stupid enough to fear his mother’s death and waste his life over it when she could still witness her grandchildren up close?  Why had he not put two and two together yet? Had he not witnessed enough of the Hellbird fucking his gladiator bitch when he could be the tragic hero of his own damn love story, only his lover would actually be happy instead of desperate for him to make time like she already is. Oh she’d be happy because he’d be loyal unlike Caim or he’d be neutered at his next vet visit. Call him Doctor Wilde. So, maybe protective Daddy Re threw his own threats in as he was giving Tray a wake up call. Nevertheless, he didn’t feel completely woken up till just now. 

She wasn’t a dream. She was right there in front of him and there was no time limit. There was no let me ask first. The world was open to them again and maybe, just maybe, they’d find his mother again in this big vast universe of souls some day. There was a glimmer of hope there. At least there was a chance anyhow. But, one thing was for certain. He had her right in front of him now and he suddenly felt wide awake. 

[traycontini]

damienwilde‌:

Lost Boy

damienwilde‌:

The look on Caim’s face was one that would haunt Damien until the end of her days and the way Tray’s name had sounded on the Devil’s lips… It sent the ice of fear straight through her veins until it was burned away barely a second later by the heat of flames far too close. Close enough that she stumbled back a few steps, closed her eyes against the burning glare and when she opened them again Caim was gone. Pure, unhindered panic was quick to set in but with a quick gasp of breath and fire singed clothes Damien closed her eyes again and breathed, fighting through the feeling gripping at her chest to locate Tray.

Only it didn’t work. For a heartbeat of a second she thought she felt his location but then it was gone, he was just… gone. It was as though Tray had just dropped right off the face of the earth, as though he…

Needless to say Damien’s mind headed right to Hell, right to the worst possible case scenario.

She had no idea how long she stood there just waiting for something to happen, waiting for Tray to show up somewhere but he didn’t. So Damien did the only thing she could think of doing in the moment and reached for her key to GhosTown. She didn’t have a plan, she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing but she told herself someone would eventually tell her what had happened and if anyone could find out it would Re or Kay, someone would know something, someone would be able to tell her what happened. It went deeper than that though, when panic gripped at her chest and she felt her heart in her throat the only place she wanted to go was somewhere she felt safe and GhosTown was the only place which game to mind.

Upon arriving she couldn’t help but feel a little lost, GhosTown was alive and bustling, more busy than it had been in a while which would have been enough for the panic to set right back in but the atmosphere she found mentally threw her a little off balance. The Lost Boys were excited about something, as though they were in the middle of planning some kind of celebration. It was an odd sensation, watching them, standing witness to an excitement she couldn’t quite understand while her heart hammered uncomfortable in her chest and-

The out of body, fly on the wall feeling disappeared the moment Damien took a slow, deep breath and a painfully familiar scent had her turning, eyes landing immediately on Tray’s face. His expression was so filled with anguish and then there was Re beside him in a tiger skin coat, splattered with blood. Another deep inhale and Damien could smell death. She could smell the scent of a gun recently fired, and the lingering scent of the same hellfire Caim had disappeared within. She could smell death, blood, Tray, Caim, Re and Rosalie.

The moment she started piecing together what her senses were telling her was the same moment Re told her to deal with this, whatever this was, and just walked away as though nothing had happened. Far too stunned to even think about calling after him let alone trying to follow him, Damien’s eyes found it impossible to move away from Tray, away from the look on his face or the way she noticed for the first time while looking at him, really looking at him, that something was missing and it took a painfully long time for her to pinpoint exactly what it was. Caim’s mark on Tray’s soul was gone. The devil’s claim of ownership had vanished like it had never even been there to begin with and Damien found herself searching for it once, twice, and then a third time just to make sure but the overwhelming feeling of relief she should have felt never came. In it’s place she felt only confusion, dread and sickening little drendils of fear spreading their way through her stomach.

When Tray had called her, a night which now left like a lifetime ago to ask what he should ask of Caim in return for his soul, the one thing above all else she’d wanted to say was for him to tell Caim never to keep them apart but she hadn’t because it would have made her every ounce the monster even heaven was so convinced she would be. It would have been the uttermost selfish thing she’d ever done so instead she’d told him to ask for his mother’s life, to be specific and trade his soul for the protection of the only family member he had left thanks to her own actions. Damien had taken everything from Tray in one rash thought and one barbaric action, what she’d told him that night had been her own way of making sure no one could ever again take from the Shifter what she already had. Oh the number of times she’d wanted to kill Rosalie herself and break that man free of his contract, the number of opportunities she’d had alone with that woman where it would have been so easy for her to do exactly that but she didn’t, she wouldn’t, not only because it would mean Tray’s heartbreak, never just that, God knows she’d already hurt him a thousand times over. No, Damien knew that if she broke Caim’s contract the Devil would only find some other way to convince Tray to sign away his soul yet again. Killing Rosalie would have never been enough to keep Caim at bay, what the HellBird wanted be tended to get but now Tray was right there in GhosTown and it was The Horned King who’d brought him there in the middle of what looked to be a growing Lost Boy celebration.

The realisation of what could have happened knocked the breath right from her lungs and Damien moved before she could stop herself, arms wrapping tight around the shifter. Clinging to him, comforting him, holding on for dear life.

“Tray, what did you do?”

Tray felt completely outside himself. He didn’t want it to be real but the blood on his hands was proof he couldn’t deny. How many times had he pulled a trigger and his wall of steel against emotions would go up like blades defending himself from guilt or shame. This wasn’t the same numb feeling that turned to nothing so cold it was like he didn’t care at all. Mobster hits and family defense never felt like this. 

Oh. Oh god. The warmth. Her smell. That never followed a gangsta hit. 

He leaned in. 

Air. 

He could feel himself breathing here, but he wasn’t sure he felt alive anymore. He needed to hold on a little longer. 

“Mmmmm.” 

A little longer still. 

He could hear her words, but his own didn’t form right away. Nothing seemed to function, but his arms, and his lungs. Eventually, with her scent around him he recognized her heartbeat before finally finding his. 

Yeah, he was still alive. It just took her presence to remind him. 

What had he done?

Jesus Devil Christ, really. What had he done?

Destroyed his child’s grandmother that should be around to spoil them rotten and tease them both about being allowed because she’s gramma and that’s what gramma’s do. 

That’s what went through his mind. It was starting to form coherent thoughts. Then he pulled back in some attempt to answer. 

There were no tears. He couldn’t seem to cry, but it felt like he’d been sobbing himself into exhaustion. 

He stood in this zone of disbelief and shock he’d really gone through with it. 

“The unthinkable.” 

Words. 

True words. 

“But, I thought it.” 

That did it. Saying it out loud. His eyes watered up. Admitting such a thing could really be inside him. He turned into a killer for his father. He’d even done a few unspeakable things for his demon, the mob. There was always some excuse, some reason, some justification in his head that made it okay, and if there wasn’t, then he’d create one. But, could there really be a good reason for killing your own mother? 

He looked down at the speckles on his hands after wiping at his face.  

Spots. They were all over him and he wasn’t even in leopard form. Some dried ones were smearing from getting wet all over again. His coat was dirty. 

Red spots all over him. 

He found Damien’s eyes, “I had to. My coat. I was missing a spot. The special one.” 

[traycontini]

Mother May I

Tray walked in on his mother during one of his weekly visits and she was adorned like the royalty she always was in his eyes. Damn she was beautiful, the kind of beauty that had no words, and only overwhelmed emotions could swell. She reflected the very kind of respect he always held her in. 

He smiled as she went on to tell him about Caim letting her use the luxurious antiquity when she said she wanted to be a queen for Halloween. “Never too early to get a costume ready for October.” She took a slow spin so her son could see the full view. There was modesty in her expression as she flashed the tip of her foot to show off her slipper like Cinderella. 

The shifter son bowed and held out a hand like the gentleman he was dressed as in one of his gangster suits. “Mother, may I?” His bangs fell forward and she flicked them with a girlie giggle that composed back to maternal as she accepted his hand. 

He pulled her with a big arm swing like they were Beauty and the Beast on the dance floor. There was no music but they danced just the same as if a full orchestra was the serenade behind them in her quaint room. The majesty of the dignity in her posture was shared between their chests and became an elation his body couldn’t contain spreading an easy smile as his laughter burst forth. The joy on her son’s face grew her own. 

They danced with eye contact that never held awkwardness in the balance, not even when there were missteps in their off-beat imaginary rhythm. There were grand steps to the grand sound of the esteem he held for her. There was laughter, so much laughter. Tray had shed his anxiety, the sadness that clouded his life, and was always worn with the warmth and protective layer over his skin like a sweater. 

The last spin was pure euphoria with both their heads arched back in uninhibited joy as they rejoiced in each other, the boy who gave the gift of motherhood to a barren woman, the mother a devoted son would kill for and more, who showed a grown man that unconditional love was real and could last far beyond childhood. 

Their feet came to a still when the song that beat between their hearts ended. A full view mirror would be next to them. Tray would note her cat suit hanging over the vanity chair. He plucked one of the many headbands of cat ears she had on display. He chose the spotted one most like a snow leopard and walked towards her. He placed them gently atop her head in front of her crown. Then they looked at their reflections in the mirror side-by-side. He whispered, “You look radiant mother. I love you.” 

She was taken by her son’s affections and could hardly react to the purity of the adoration. He’d proven his genuineness time and time again when no proof had ever been asked for. Her hand rose to her chest lost in the eyes of the only man who ever held hers with a look like that. 

He stepped over to her crystalline liquor tray with feminine bottles and glasses. He poured her favorite drink as he hovered over it listening to her normalize the air in the room with casual conversation about her day about visiting his cousins when he saw  a shadow of movement in the mirror. 

BANG

“Tray?” 

Simultaneously, Caim was about to discuss the topics of Zeth and Electra with Damien when suddenly, mid sentence, he wore the face of shock. 

“Tray.”

Caim vanished in flame. 

His wing would show up to cradle her head just before it fell to the ground. He tried to protect her the moment he sensed she was in danger. 

Her final words were coughed in strain, “My precious...son.... If you’d have... told me... I’d have done it myself.” 

Then she was gone. Her body went limp in Caim’s arms. Her stunning garment was soaked in her own blood that pooled royal red all around her. 

How in the world could he be the father he never had if he never gave Damien the chance to be the mother every child deserved? 

That shadow of movement that flickered in the mirror just before Tray had taken aim formed full body. 

“Now you’re worthy.” Re said as he took Tray’s hand and led him away from Caim and Rosalie. 

[traycontini]

I build a fire in the snow Warm our bodies from the cold And you said If we never try We'll never know You have to sow the seed And watch it grow

Everywhere I go, all I ever see Are all the little ways that used to be People that I know only ever speak Like everythin' is headin' for catastrophe There's nothing I could do, I don't get to choose Even if I could rewrite the history It's clear to see That I'd still be Loving you Loving you

This is bound to leave a mark But I'll be proud to wear the scars They tell a rich tale of disaster About a love and what came after I'll be frozen like a storm Think we should take the long way home

Everywhere I go, all I ever see Are all the little ways that used to be People that I know only ever speak Like everything is headin' for catastrophe There's nothing I could do, I don't get to choose Even if I could rewrite the history It's clear to see That I'd still be Loving you Loving you Loving you Loving you

[traycontini]

[damienwilde]

First glance at the last picture and I thought that cat had an axe in front of it.

Lumberjack Cat.

[traycontini]

It’s officially Lumberjack Cat to me now

[damienwilde]

[traycontini]

I think I’ve met him before. 

[traycontini]

[damienwilde]

First glance at the last picture and I thought that cat had an axe in front of it.

Lumberjack Cat.

[traycontini]

It’s officially Lumberjack Cat to me now

[traycontini]

[damienwilde]

[traycontini]

“And so I hope that times will change and I’ll feel safe and you won’t go away” 

[traycontini]

[stars-bean]

The Witches of Eastwick (1987) dir. George Miller

[fabulousfeliciano]

[traycontini]

damienwilde‌:

Damien would have been lying if she said she wasn’t paying attention to the conversations around her, it wasn’t that she was going out of her way to eavesdrop, she just had good hearing. So when a demon asked Caim about Tray and that belittling parade of a competition she found herself listening closely. Apparently she wasn’t the only one but then Caim announced something she hadn’t expected to hear. Among the chorus of booing to follow Damien frowned, eyes moving to look at Tray, studying the Shifter’s expression. As far as she could tell it came as much of a shock to Tray as it did to Damien to hear that Caim wasn’t planning on entering him in the pet show but why wasn’t he? Did he think it was too easy a win? Not enough of a challenge? Or did he have some other reason, some other motive? Surely he wasn’t losing interest in Tray already? And what if he was? What would that mean for the Shifter?

Needless to say where others might have been disappointed and where Tray might have been ecstatic, Damien was only worried, confused and a little bit suspicious. She was quiet as she followed Tray out of the house and let him lead the way through Venice while she thought about it all, if only she could understand it, if only she knew what it meant but ultimately it was useless. She didn’t know demons well enough to properly understand the way they thought about things, she didn’t know Caim well enough. Her mind was so caught up in the why she failed to notice Tray’s own excitement about the fact until he’d already pounced.

Her back hit the floor before she even knew what was happening but it didn’t hurt and before she knew it she was staring up at Tray’s grinning and laughing face. It pulled her so far from her thoughts it was almost jarring at first and took her a moment to catch up. She was grinning before she could even help it, momentarily swept up entirely in the look on the Shifter’s face, her arm coming up to rest beneath her head and she laid there and just watched him.

Damnit he was beautiful.

It hardly seemed fair, that he could distract her so easily with nothing more than a smile, a look and a few well placed hands. For a moment she didn’t say anything at all, she just watched, her eyes tracing the shape of his lips as he smiled, the way the expression met his eyes and squinted them slightly at the corners. She could have stayed like that for hours, right there on the floor listening to the sound of his voice and his breath being the only things she could hear inside this house but it wasn’t very realistic. So she moved to sit up instead, head cocking to the side for a moment as she studied his features once more before finally opening her mouth to respond.

“Well you certainly don’t look like a washed up old man.” She pointed out with a soft grin, moving to slip onto his lap and press a kiss to Tray’s cheek. For once there was nothing sexual in her movements at all, she just wanted to be close and if she was sitting on top of him it wasn’t as though he could go far. Unlike herself Tray couldn’t just magically disappear out from beneath her.

“Why do you think he’s decided not to do it anymore?”

@damienwilde​

Tray smiled in a way that revealed the slightest twinge of insecurity unsure of whether he was being teased about the washed up old man joke or not. Tray had noticed a few of his first age lines around his eyes in the mirror lately and being so tired all the time from worry for so long hadn’t helped. At least those were his thoughts in front of those mirrors Kay avoided in Caim’s home. He knew he was nowhere near retirement age of a healthy person, but his looks? With all that was going on in Tray’s life for the past few years, his appearance was the thing on his mind. His aesthetics expressions were always poured into his arts. He didn’t really get to use himself as a canvas much since his family died, and Hell literally came into his life. But, now? 

“I think you mean, what’s it mean. It means I don’t have be put on display for his buddies’ enjoyment anymore.” Then his grin quirked in a sillier way. “Now, I can be put on display for yours.” He bobbled his brows and arched his body in a faux strip tease hip he’d seen the girlies do in so many stage shows before. Then he batted his eyes like an over animated cartoon with a crush before finally losing the ability to pretend so goofy without busting out in a laugh. It was a boom before twittering off into giggles that were slightly out of character for Tray. He hadn’t had cat nip, but the idea of not having to do those miserable pet shows anymore had him on a high of it’s own. 

Now, as for why? 

He rolled over on his back next to her and stared at the ceiling and grinned while finally taking the question to actual consideration. He went through the process right out loud. 

“What’s changed? I don’t know.” 

He sighed loudly happy with the results whatever the reason. 

“I don’t think have a clue. The only thing that’s changed in my life since I started all this is the baby coming, or, uhhhhhh, um, orrrrr.... yeah I don’t know.” Tray turned his head to look at Damien. “He doesn’t have much sympathy for lovers. He likes to watch others suffer. The him and Augustus thing fucked over lovers he meets for life, I think. But, maybe the ol’ Hellbird PawPaw has a little soft spot for kiddos?” He reached snugged Damien in and kissed her lips with a smile and held a gentle expression. “Maybe he’s just excited to be a grandpa again? Maybe he wants to make sure I have time to be a proper dad? He might be cold hearted about some things, but if there’s one thing I know about that bird, he gives many fucks about his kids...his family...or who he considers his family, I guess. It might actually be the only thing he cares about.” 

That’s when Tray’s expression changed from his giddiness over it all and from his thoughtfulness on the subject. 

“You think he finally cares about me? Like, as in... ya know... for real? Like family?” The sound of his voice had a weird vulnerability to it. He wasn’t sure when his own feelings on the matter changed. He hated that bird. Didn’t he? Now, he was just confused and it all finally showed on his face exactly how mixed up he was. Then another thought dawned on him. “Or is it you? Maybe it has more to do with you than me.” 

“Or maybe I’m overthinking it? Maybe it has nothing to do with us and more to do with pulling out while I was on a winning streak? Or... or maybe he’s entering someone else?” He wasn’t sure how that made him feel either and just feeling that in of itself was confusing. “Naw, maybe he’s just not interested in the games anymore? Maybe just been there done that and time to do something else? He is a very busy guy, right? Okay, at first I just felt happy. Now, I’ve over thought it all. We should stop thinking about it and just be happy.”   

Yes, that was a good idea. 

“Right after you tell me what you think about it?” 

Yes, right after that. 

[fabulousfeliciano]

[traycontini]

damienwilde‌:

“So it’s like the Muppets.” Right, okay, Damien supposed that made sense even if she was still a little confused about why she’d only ever heard the name Big Bird in the occasional reference to Caim. Clearly it was some form of an inside joke she was missing out on but the Muppets she at least knew about now even if it had taken her a while to fully understand what they were and any references made about it.

As the party progressed Damien didn’t so much withdraw into herself as she did hang back and just watch it all unfold around her. She was right there surrounded by it all but she stayed on the outside looking in, a silent observer. She watched the children play their bizarre, macabre games with absolutely no clue they were actually referencing normal childhood games, she watched the demons laugh and enjoy watching their kids but mostly she watched Tray. She studied the way he interacted with all of them, how he fit right in playing with the children, mingling with the adults, the way he smiled and then lounged around in his shifted form enjoying himself.

It hurt to watch, it hurt to be there and see him so happy and realise he was well and truly at home there and then she felt guilty about it and that guilt was threatening to consume her. This was Tray’s home, this was his family and he was happy. Damien hated herself for hating it as much as she did. It wasn’t as though she didn’t want him to be happy, of course she did, she loved him and wanted that for him but she wanted him too, wanted him to be hers and watching him now was the first time she’d ever properly realised that he wasn’t and never would be. Tray belonged to Caim and Caim alone, through and through. There was no loopholes, no doubt and no fighting it. Tray belonged there and by the looks of it, he wanted to be there, enjoyed being there. This house, these people, they were Tray’s family, his home and that little house in Venice Damien liked to believe was theirs and would one day be their home together was a lie. The life Damien wanted, the life she’d once convinced herself was theirs wasn’t real. Just a dollhouse in a demons playground. Something to play with to pass the time.

She excused herself more than once, slipped away to go to the bathroom and sure a couple of times had actually been genuine, she always needed to pee these days but the rest, well, a few times Damien had just needed to get away, needed to breathe and compose herself alone before her facial expressions went crumbling down around her.

At one point during the night Kay made his own appearance, he walked through the front door with his usual cigarette and absolutely no intention of sticking around. He didn’t like Caim’s home, there were just too many mirrors, too many reflective surfaces and with a house currently full of demons and demonic children running around he just didn’t know where to look. It was all a little too much for him, a little too overwhelming and it had him more than a little on edge.

The things Kay could see, the way he viewed the world and the things he could do weren’t public knowledge among humans or demons for that matter, probably because he didn’t spend a lot of time around either or them and it was one of the reasons he didn’t plan on sticking around. It would have been growingly obvious to anyone watching close enough that Caim’s somewhat estranged son was a little too careful where he looked and when he watched those in the room his hazel eyes never seemed to quite matched up to the people he was looking at.

One instance, for example was the way Kay watched Damien who seemed so wrapped up in her own thoughts and her own people watching that she didn’t even seem to notice he was there. As Kay watched her he studied a face set far lower to the ground, what he saw in one instance was the face of a wolf, Damien’s form had a habit of shifting between male, female and wolf depending on his child’s mood and in this particular moment Kay found himself frowning at the look on the face of an animal. It was like watching a predator stay hidden in the distance, a wolf grouched low to the ground just observing it’s prey, sizing up the situation and waiting for the right opportunity to strike and it took him a moment or two longer than it probably should have to realise that at one point during the night that predatory look was directed at Caim.

Then of course there was the moment when Big Bird walked in, honest to god accurate costumed Big Bird, yellow feathers and all and for a second not even Kay could control his facial expressions.

The amused and absolutely disbelieving, caught entirely off guard grin spread across his face with amusement reflected in his eyes and a soft chuckle of laughter. Seriously? Big Bird? Oh Chess was going to have a fucking field day with this information. It was the very last thing Kay had ever expected to see at one of Caim’s kids birthday parties and the moment he saw it, before he could even get that thoroughly amused expression under control, those hazel orbs sought out Caim and Kay locked eyes with The Devil. Or at least to him their eyes met, in reality as Kay shook his head in amused disbelief and fought to get his expressions under control again he was actually looking a few feet above Caim’s head and closer to the ceiling than the man himself.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t make his way over to Caim and he didn’t introduce himself to anyone there. In fact Kay didn’t say a single word to anyone the short while he was there, he simply dropped off the present Chess had bought for the kid in a place someone would find it eventually without getting too close to anyone not sure where the bodies he couldn’t actually see started or ended. He definitely got more than he’d bargained for with the whole big bird appearance but he left not long after because when magic that wasn’t directly Caim’s came into play and children started using their powers, Kay had to take his leave as quickly as possible with the usual pounding of a headache ripping its way trough his temples. He made it back outside the house just in time for his nose to start bleeding before he headed home with every intention of telling Chess about the unexpected and hilarious as fuck party guest. Chess would love it. What Kay wasn’t going to tell his husband however was that he’d seen Damien there with both a sad and then murderous look on a wolf’s face. Chess had tried everything he could to help the kid, to get Caim to give up his hold on Tray and to trade the snow leopard in for something else but it hadn’t worked and Kay wasn’t about to make his husband feel like even more of a failure by pointing things like that out to him.

Damien never had realised her father was there at all but she stayed throughout the whole thing despite how painful it was to watch unfold. When the vampire who’d unluckily become a party game for demonic children had stopped pleading and begging for his life though, making the children pout she’d made him start begging again with nothing but a few low murmured words that barely covered the distance from where she was far off in the corner of the living room. The human piñata didn’t phase her, why would it, for a while there Damien had been killing people just to have the excuse to see Samael’s familiar face when she was feeling a little too lonely and hadn’t wanted to seem needy by trying to call him.

When Tray excused himself to go and say goodbye to people Damien had assumed it was those leaving the party and was more than ready to leave herself, to pick up her portkey and just disappear back to GhosTown. She hadn’t expected Caim to be the one the Shifter was going to say goodbye to and ask permission to leave, she’d expected him to stay so it wasn’t until she overheard the conversation that she realise she suddenly wasn’t going to be able to run back to the closest place to feel like home to her and organise her thoughts… and then Caim called out to her.

She didn’t want to turn around and look at the Devil, she really didn’t because every time she looked at him she remembered the smirking look on his face and the fear in Caprice’s eyes, the scent of all her blood and the way her breath had gurgled and choked in her throat still far too close a memory. Damien did turn around though, she forced herself to look at Caim as he spoke, pale blue eyes meeting brown but there was a distance in her face, a studying expression as she tried to read what the Devil was actually saying. The words seemed genuine, his expression too for that matter but Damien just didn’t know whether or not it was real, didn’t know if she believed it. What she did know was that whatever this unknowing and subconscious competition there was between them, it was gone now. Tray belonged to Caim, belonged right there in this house and though she hated it, it didn’t make it any less true. She was done fighting for something she’d never really had to begin with. She’d lost. It was what it was.

“Yeah. Thanks for having me.” Her words were polite, if anything that’s all they really were, a somewhat vacant courtesy, a recognition of respect and nothing more as her eyes drifted down to the way Tray nuzzled in close to the demon and the way Caim held an arm around him, a hand stroking down his back in response before the Shifter had made his way back to her.

She didn’t know what to do standing there watching Tray’s blissfully unaware, hopeful and happy face. She wanted to run. Wanted to be anywhere but there. If Damien had been able to shift her form with one hundred percent certainty that the violent shift wouldn’t affect the child she was carrying she would have already done it by now. She would have shed her human skin and just started running. She would have run until her four legs couldn’t possibly run anymore and then she’d have just kept going. She’d have let canine instincts take over completely.

Instead she gave Tray a soft smile in return, the first time she’d ever truly managed to put an expression on her face she didn’t feel and make it seem believable.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Anything in particular you want to do?”

@damienwilde​

Kay’s strange mannerisms had always gone noted by any demon he’d happen across and those that noticed him today were no different. No one approached him. Considering the state of the world and without Caim giving a proper introduction it all gave this  off limits feel. At least it started out that way. If Kay would have stayed much longer with that hilarity owning his expression someone might have felt comfy enough to go say hi. 

Big Bird and Toomy were getting their picture taken together when Caim saw Kay all but transformed into Chester Clementine Scott-Wilde. Caim could almost hear the giggles echoing in his head and mega-phoning out Kay’s silent smile. What a strange thing to hallucinate at such a sight. He wasn’t sure if he’d just seen a premonition or what, but for a split second it felt so real. Chess’s mocking laughter at full volume was coming out Kay’s mouth. His son didn’t lock actual eyes with Caim but you can best bet he knew exactly why not and gave him the same mortified expression he would have had their eyes met .  

First, it was just the surprise Kay slipped in unnoticed even if it was only family with such ability. Enchantments and guards around Venice made sure otherwise. The place was closely guarded as Heaven’s Gates.

Then at his own delusional ears with Chess’s cackling giggle watching Kay’s never before seen giddiness, he was just plain shocked. Sure, he’d seen Kay smile. He’d even heard laugh. It wasn’t like they’d never exchanged niceties or friendly fire sarcasm. 

But, the look on Kay’s face plus realizing this had to do with the Big Bird joke equaled one frumpy face. 

 It was the frump face of intuition, knowing he was never living this down, not ever. It the Big Bird joke was ever an silly annoyance before, he knew it was about to blow up into the Wilde pandemonium that only Chaos’s line could.

Great. 

Kay had been invited. Caim always invited his family to such things, but how this one escaped him, he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been trying to hide the event.  Damn Toomy and his favorite little show. Damn him to pieces. How could Caim not indulge it though? Was that not what he did? Was that not was he was known for? He liked to dote on his family, give them everything they ever desired. If they wanted it, they got it, at least generally speaking. Self indulgence was the key to happiness and if his son wanted to meet Big Bird then that’s what his son was going to get.  

Then a smile started to form and Caim didn’t even realize it. How infuriating it was to know the teasing he was going to have to endure over this one and yet to see his quiet, broody as him son, with quite the unlucky streak smiling like that and looking so entertained hit a heart string that demon wasn’t sure he had until right then when he felt it plucked.  It was nice to see his son look genuinely happy. 

Damn his asshole of a son. Damn him all to Hell for helping make his life miserablely perfect. He wanted to wring his neck and hug him all the same, smack him and kiss him, or rumpfle his hair. But, that just wasn’t the type of relationship they had. He wanted to threaten him and magically wipe that smile right off his face all while admiring the creases in his face that reminded him of himself. 

Then right before Kay disappeared and Tray took Damien’s hand to leave some distorted giant owl-shaped demon asked if Caim would be entering his cat again this year in the show. He shook his head. “No friends, no. The blue ribbon snow leopard is officially retired.” Everyone booed disappointed. “Now, now. Don’t fret. He’ll still be up for view at the annual Hell Day’s Pride Parade and be around for all the festivities.” (and no this pride parade had nothing to do with LGBT community - this was about actual pride) Then everyone clapped again and Tray stood paused with Damien’s hand in his. He looked back at Caim in shock. What did it mean? Why? What had changed? 

Tray looked back puzzled, but decided now wasn’t the time to address such things. He gave Caim the slightest nod of appreciation and kept his eyes a moment longer than meant in his bewilderment before leading Damien on out the door. 

When Caim looked back to Kay he was gone from beside the gift table. He looked around unsure he disappeared or had moved on to another spot or another room. But, he was gone from sight and he went back to socializing with who was left at the party. 

As long as Damien moved along with Tray he would have stayed quiet until they managed privacy in the bohemian house. Whether Damien would linger longer at the party or move along right away, the first thing Tray would do the moment they were alone was pounce. 

“It’s over! It’s over. Did you hear?” Whatever Damien was feeling or going through right then, Tray was ecstatic. “I’m a washed up retired old man.”