What We Do In The ShadowsS01E09 | The Orgy

What We Do In The Shadows S01E09 | The Orgy

The Lady of the House of Love, Angela Carter

IZZY ALWAYS HAS A PLAN,  &  tonight is no different.  as he descends silently belowdeck  &  makes for the brig, the only step left to execute is don't get caught.  he didn't know exactly what would happen to him if his majesty's finest apprehended him in an attempt to free a pirate they had taken prisoner.  but after the brutality he had witnessed them inflict upon the beautiful young man they had captured by chance, izzy had not been able to stop himself from taking the risk.  it had been all he could think about then — when he'd screamed, when he'd doubled over, when the soldiers had laughed  &  taunted him  —  how to get the man off this ship before they could harm him again.  &   izzy is quite sure that he can do it, but he has to act quickly.  so with a stolen key  &  no hesitation, he opens the cell  &  steps inside.

an injured predator can be dangerous,  &  izzy remembers well how quickly the man had thrown himself at the leutienant when he’d attacked his mother's heritage.  but while there is a sword at his belt, izzy makes no move for the blade.  it is not meant for this man.  instead, his hands extend, palms up to show that he means no harm. ❝ no tricks.  i swear it.  on my mother.  ❞  his tone softens when he speaks of her, as it always does.

the dim light in the brig makes it hard to assess the scale of the man’s injuries.  but he had heard the crack of the rifle against the bone himself,  &  he can imagine the pain must be immense.  izzy can help him up the stairs  &  across the deck, but the plan will fall to pieces if he can't hold himself upright enough to row.  ❝ listen, i have a tender rigged  &  waiting for you.  i’m on deck watch tonight, so no one will see you leave.  i can help you get up the stairs  &  into the boat,  &  you should be able to put enough distance between yourself  &  this vessel before daylight if you row hard  &   travel with the current.  but you have to go now. ❞  &  then he extends his right hand, a clear offering of help.  ❝ it's ok.  you can trust me. ❞

he must have lost consciousness,   between a rifle smashing against his knee and officers dragging him carelessly to the brig of one of his majesty's damn ships.  at the very least they weren't laughing on their way down,  nobody was:  the agony rippling through his bones had triggered the worst of his temper like a dynamite fuse being lit.  even bound and with nausea threatening to empty his stomach right there on deck,  edward had scratched,  bitten,  and attempted to throttle at least one blue coated bastard   (   no such luck,  the fellow's still breathing   ).  the whip he could have endured,  he's tasted it a few times on hornigold's ship,  the sneers too   (   boring,  unoriginal,  the same old drivel that could have been directed at any pirate   ),  but then it had gotten personal.  then they thought it would have been funny to tell him that a cage is the only fit place for someone like him.  and his mother both.  to make it absolutely clear it wasn't about pirates anymore.

the sound of a door closing causes his head to snap up from the floor,  where he was laying curled around his knee,  and agony jolts through him anew as he scrambles to sit with his back to the wall.  vision blurs and then doubles,  but @musecraft 's voice makes it above the ringing in his ears enough to be heard:  hey, how badly are you hurt? can you move? you think you can walk?

'  fuck —  '   the first thing out of his lips is a pained gasp,  followed by a few shaking breaths.  he almost wishes the man would bludgeon him in the head and return him to blissful darkness.   '  stay away from me.  '   he manages to hiss a weak warning,  finally.  but even with pain clenching his jaw leeching his face of color,  he doesn't remember this one being among the laughing bastards above deck.  edward has learned to analyze a dangerous situation quickly and he's sure of it,  as much as he is sure that his knee is utterly fucked.  brows furrow then,  and he blinks in a desperate attempt to clear that awful fog from his eyes.   '  are you trying to fucking trick me?  '

SHE DOESN'T STAY AWAY for longer than she must, curling instinctively back against laszlo’s side the moment the furry little thing has disentangled itself from her skirts. after months with a vast ocean forcing their seperation, nadja cannot bear to leave even a meager gap between them, one of her hands taking hold of the one that laszlo offers & lacing their fingers tightly together. ❝  if you were getting lonely here on your own, surely you could have found some more entertaining company to keep than these little beasts.  didn't the neighbor man come  &  check on you ?  i sent a raven to ask him to see that you were still bathing  &  eating. ❞  nadja had worried about her husband being left entirely on his own. without her, laszlo had a tendency to forego his own needs in favor of whatever whim had captured his attentions in that moment — usually some kind of pornography. but she had hoped that the strange thing that had escaped from the corpse of colin robinson for would be enough of a reason for him to keep himself functioning, especially considering it had been enough to abandon her to face london alone.  &  to her relief, it seemed that while the house has fallen into disrepair, laszlo has been able to keep himself  (  &  indeed, an entire herd of odd little beings )  alive  &  thriving amongst the manor wreckage.

still, nadja fusses over her husband. she simply cannot help it, free hand smoothing the wrinkles out of the undershirt he wears  &  running through the thick waves of his hair.  ❝ when is the last time you fed ? ❞  concern bleeds into her tone, pulling it higher in both putch & volume.  ❝ how many times have i told you — you need to drink at least one fully grown human every week. you want to keep your strength up, don’t you, my great beloved ox of a man ? ❞

     HOW HE HAD LONGED FOR HER TOUCH THIS PAST YEAR- THE LONGEST YEAR OF HIS ETERNAL LIFE. They had never been apart for this long. Of course, taking care of the boy had occupied much of his time, distracting him from the impulse to play the piano and wank until her return, or better yet join his darling Nadja in London. However, in the early hours of the evening when there was nothing to do but slumber beside the empty space where her coffin once stood, those were the moments when his aching heart became impossible to ignore. With her return those torturous mornings were all but a distant memory. Laszlo haphazardly kicked rotted debris to the side as they bounded up the stairs hand-in-hand. He only paused once at the sound of her voice, turning to her, and pressing a kiss against the back of her hand. “Every second away from you was a second too long.”

     The feeling of Nadja's tongue against his hand sends goosebumps up his skin. He shuddered, wanting nothing more than to be with her, inside of her. For one's pleasure to become the others--- and then she squealed, pulling away from whatever diabolical creature had temporarily broken the moment. His free hand reached out to steady her as a black and grey miscreant scurried out from under her legs and into one of its many newly made holes. Laszlo squinted at the raccoon. At first, he had tried to get rid of them, but it had been a lost cause. They were roguish creatures that seemed to procreate at an astonishing rate. He simply couldn’t deny the sense of comradery he held for creatures that liked to fuck as much as he did. “ They’re raccoons, my darling. They took up residence in the walls some time ago. That’s Rocket, Toby, and Mozart, ” he said, pointing them out one by one.  

@musecraft

@walkpathe ( aro ) — sent to carlisle : ❝ have I not proved to you my friendship? ❞

THE FIRST THING that crosses his mind is that friendship is for the humans, not their kind — that to bond with another being without some ulterior motive is an experience incompatible with immortality. but carlisle regrets the thought instantly, certain that aro will dislike the hesitation, no matter how brief. ❝ please do not misunderstand ; you have been very kind to me, & you know that i'm very grateful for being permitted to join you all here, ❞ he responds, head inclined to show he is earnest. there is no lie here, nothing to conceal. after being cast out for his so-called defects by his sire & his distaste for the baron's proclivities reaching a breaking point, carlisle had precious few places to turn. aro alone had welcomed him in, & the volturi had proven to be cultured & sophisticated by comparison to the baron's cult — if ultimately just as bloodthirsty. but at least here, the philosophical queries that tormented carlisle were not scoffed at. aro may have disagreed with his assessment of the mortals as beings of value, but at least he humored their dissent with debates in good faith rather than defaulting to mockery. but for what reason aro actually wanted him here, carlisle still couldn't say. aro's thoughts, at least, remained well guarded. ❝ i only fear that i may be overstaying my welcome here. i know that there are those in your guard who disagree with my ... alternative lifestyle. i wouldn't want to cause any undue stress within your court. ❞

      ❝ I NEVER SAID i don't love you. ❞ the baron should know by now exactly how carlisle feels for him, & so his anger does not dissipate with the obvious ploy for pity. if anything, it only runs hotter. ❝ it's like you don't even listen to me when i speak. i may as well discuss moral philosophy with a brick wall. you think you know everything one could possibly ever know already & that no one could possibly have a valid argument if it's from a viewpoint you don't want to consider. it's infuriating. you infuriate me. ❞ & yet, when he considers taking the suggestion & leaving, the idea is repellant to him. something nameless keeps carlisle here, an unseen tether compelling him to continue arguing with this man who he knows will never agree with him. for yet another long night just seems more bearable if they are together — even if they find themselves once again at each other's throats.

100  —  the chain  by  fleetwood mac - from @musecraft​ (carlisle) for baron

“ Go back to hiding in the shadows with your rats. Damn your lies. If you don’t love me now you have never loved me.”