#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮

[zztophat]

discord: wish spell

SUMMARY: Raphael and Zatanna perform a wish spell in an attempt to help Belphegor get some peace and quiet away from the Void; however, the spell takes an unexpected turn when Belphegor changes the wish. TRIGGERS: Torture, PTSD, Depression WRITTEN WITH: @ofguardian, @ofhellsbells, @offallenfeathers (Belgirel)

ZATANNA: She lost track of how many spells they'd tried so far. None of them helped permanently, but it wasn't all for nothing. One of the spells had given the fallen healers their ability to heal again which was nice. But they were running out of things to try. Zee stepped into the warded circle where Belphegor sat in a chair and looked at them. "Alright, so, we're kind of on our last leg with these," she told them. "I don't really like the spell because it's akin to djinn magic and that stuff gets messy. What I need from you is a well worded wish about how you want peace and quiet. It can't be too broad or magic will take it the wrong way and you'll end up deaf or...I dunno, you'll make the whole population disappear. You have to make it really specific to your case. Any ideas?"

BELPHEGOR: They were tired and exhausted from so many of these attempts and the transfers and the emotions and having to hear the Void constantly. They were disappointed to know they didn't have ma y more options to silence it, but they at least needed it this time. It was all so overwhelming, and a time out was necessary. "Okay." They nodded, thinking about what they could say exactly to ensure the spell went smoothly. "Like I wish the Void couldn't speak anymore?" They thought that was pretty specific. Asking for peace and quiet itself was pretty broad. They might've gone deaf completely or just died to rest in peace, but they didn't think asking for the Void to just shut up would go bad.

RAPHAEL: Raphael could feel the exhaustion radiating off of Belphegor. Bells was usually always tired but these trials brought upon a whole new level of tired for them. Raphael hoped for their sake that this spell would provide some relief, even if it was only temporary. Raphael listened to Belphegor list off their wish. "I can't think of any ways that might be misinterpreted, but since it's our first attempt with this kind of magic it's probably best to add a time frame. That way, if magic takes this was the wrong way, you won't be stuck living with the consequences for too long," they suggested. They would let Belphegor pick the amount of time they saw fit to be under the influence of an experimental spell.

ZATANNA: Zatanna listened to the suggested wish and nodded in agreement with Raphael's input. "I like to call it the Cinderella Clause. As in putting something in the wording of the wish so that at the stroke of midnight the slate is cleared again. If it works this time around, we can add different increments of time until we burn out the spell entirely." Some of the spells had been nice like that and they were able to use them multiple times until they no longer worked. Each time the spell was cast it wasn't as strong, but Zatanna hoped they could get at least a few uses out of it. "Is that okay?" she asked.

BELPHEGOR: They were relieved the wording they had was good, but they also felt like if they could use a wish for anything, it wouldn't be this. Sure, they wanted the silence, but they could do so much more with this. They nodded when Raphael and Zatanna both agreed that a time limit would be necessary. "So it would be I wish the Void couldn't speak until midnight?" they asked. It seemed simple enough. "Yeah, that's okay." Maybe they could use this for something else if it only lasted that long. At the end of the day it would go back anyways as long as they gave it the same time limit.

RAPHAEL: "I dated a trickster once. Wild magic," they grinned. It was an interesting time but they learned a lot. "It's probably best to add tonight at midnight specifically or it'll pull you out of the spell on any given midnight." Magic was peculiar like that but Raphael had faith in the spell. They hoped they'd get a few good uses out of it before it burned out entirely. They handed Zatanna the bowl of herbs they'd prepared for the spell so that she could start.

ZATANNA: "Ah, you too?" she grinned as she took the bowl from Raphael. "They're charming bastards, but they'll fuck you over as much as their magic will," she agreed. She hated these kinds of spells but at least it wasn't necromancy. She hated that more. She set the bowl on the alter beside Belphegor and dipped her hands in it. When she pulled her hands out of the bowl, her finger tips were stained dark. She approached Belphegor and drew a sigil on their forehead with her now stained fingers. "Alright, Bells," she began. "Close your eyes and clear your mind the best that you can. I need you to focus on your wish and only your wish." She knew that would be difficult. The void was likely extremely chatty right now in an attempt to break Belphegor's focus and fuck up the spell, but Zee had faith in Bells. She'd seen them clear their mind before for spells. "I'll give you a minute to do that now."

BELPHEGOR: Belphegor looked between Raphael and Zatanna as they talked about dating tricksters. It felt weird being in the middle of it. They both seemed happy about their exes being tricksters, but neither of them were currently dating any, unless you counted Michael as one for lying to them. "Would that be such a bad thing?" they asked. It would just mean that there was a chance for more time. Of course, it would've made it harder for them to prepare for. "I'll make sure to include it," they agreed, watching as Zatanna drew on their face. "Simba," they whispered in a deep voice. They hoped they weren't going to be held up in front of a crowd though. They weren't dressed in their best clothes. They closed their eyes as she instructed, but clearing their mind was harder. The good thing was that it was easier to focus on their wish. They'd wanted it for centuries now. I wish that Belgirel could be alive again until tonight at midnight. They wanted nothing more than that, to just get him a moments peace from the torture of the Void. He needed the break more than they did.

RAPHAEL: “I feel like Zachary would agree with that statement,” Raph smiled. “Which is growth.” Hopefully this wish wouldn’t bite them back as badly as Zach’s had. They gave Bells a sympathetic look when their sibling remarked that it wouldn’t have been a bad thing if the spell simply stopped working on any given midnight. Raph knew the anxiety of not knowing when the voice would return was probably just as exhausting as trying to block out the voice. They were glad when Belphegor agreed to include a time limit. Raphael stood close by and observed as Zatanna prepared Bells for the spell. They smiled at Bells joke. It was nice to see them in decent spirits despite everything. They nodded to Zatanna when they were certain that Bells mind was as calm as it would get.

ZATANNA: "We can only hope," she grinned. Zach was doing pretty good so far though she was sure he wouldn't really approve of this spell. It wasn't like she liked this kind of magic either. "It would be a pretty unpredictable thing and I do recall a certain Archangel telling me I should be more careful." She gave them an up and down look. It was them. They'd told her to be more careful. She was glad they at least agreed to include all the stipulations into the wish. She smiled softly at their joke and stood quietly by their side to give them a moment to clear their mind and hold onto the wish.

When Raphael gave her the go-ahead, Zatanna lifted her palm over Belphegor's forehead. The sigil on her palm and the sigil on their forehead lit up and for a moment, the two sigils began to create an intricate spider in the space between her palm and their forehead. The pull of the spell was strong. Zatanna waited until it was at its apex, almost close to pulling her in before uttering the spell, "Ruoy hsiw si ym dnammoc." She pressed her hand to their forehead and that was all it took. A white light and a strong wind over powered the room before quickly dying down. She was out of breath, but she and everything else in the room were still in one piece. "Trickster magic. Always so fucking dramatic." She pulled her hand away from their forehead and surveyed them for a moment. "How do you feel? Are you alright?”

BELPHEGOR: "You should really listen to their advice." Belphegor nodded, pretending not to realize it was them who had said it. Of course Belphegor considered themself different from Zatanna. She needed to be more careful, but they didn't. They knew what they were doing. At least they thought they did, and if they did get in trouble, they'd accept those consequences, whatever they might've been. They felt light as Zatanna's magic filled the room. They glanced around the room quickly as wind whipped around, expecting Belgirel to appear anywhere there, but as Zatanna pulled her hand away, there was still no sign of him. They sighed. "I feel fine. I don't think it-"

Searing pain spread through their body, and the bright room around them was replaced with dark emptiness. They screamed in agony before they could even begin to process what had happened. They didn't feel like they could move. From what little they could see, they were restrained, being held half in and half out of some kind of dark fluid. It felt heavy. Alive but also dead, trying to pull them down into its depths. A deep guttural laugh echoed through the Emptiness, and Belphegor could recognize that voice. Their eyes widened in horror as the Void took shape in front of them. "No, Belphegor, it worked exactly right. Your wish just took a little tweaking. Why should your twin get all the fun?" The restraints suddenly dropped down, and Belphegor's screams were drowned out.

BELGIREL: Despite knowing how his torture was used against his twin, he couldn't help the screams he made. The physical torture became repetitive, but it still hurt. It was still unbearable. He screamed even as the emptiness became filled and dark became light. His body didn't even recognize the pain had stopped at first. The only thing that really made a difference was that he could move. His body had collapsed on the ground, and he'd pulled in on himself. He could never do that before. His screaming stopped and he looked around, squinting to see through the blinding light. He hadn't seen that since before the Void had stopped torturing him with what Belphegor could see. "What trick is this now?" he growled at the Void. He recognized the people of course. the girl who'd bound herself to him before and Raphael. Those binding marks were still on his wrists now, along with his other scars from the Empty. This had to be a ruse of the Void's to rip hope from him once again. "Don't think I'll fall for this shit again!" He lunged at Zatanna, wanting to end the vision before it hurt his heart with false hope.

RAPHAEL: They grinned as they watched the banter between Belphegor and Zatanna. This was all dangerous, of course, but they were being as safe about it as they could be. The air in the room seemed to change as the spell worked its magic. Raphael squinted as a light filled the room but they made sure they always had a view of Bells and Zatanna in case something went wrong. For the moment, they seemed frozen in place. The wind whipped around them and toppled a few objects over. Some things crashed here and there but nothing that couldn't be replaced. It was all over as quickly as it started. The silence was eerie before Zatanna spoke.

And then the screaming started. It didn't come from Zatanna, but rather from Belphegor. Only...was it Belphegor? Something about them felt off. Their body was changing rapidly with new scars forming here and there. And their voice...it was a familiar voice, but it wasn't Belphegor's timber, pitch, or cadence. Raphael only had seconds to process who was standing before them before Belgirel was lunging for Zatanna. Raph's form shifted quickly as they pulled Zatanna away and stepped in front of her. Belgirel collided with them instead and was immediately swept up into a warm hug. This was both because Raphael was elated to see Gears and also because they needed to safely hold him until he could be talked down. "Belgirel. It's good to see you, little brother," they spoke in a voice full of emotion. "I know that you're scared and confused right now, and you have every right to be. But I need you to take a few deep breaths and focus on everything around you." They maintained a calm voice as they spoke. "This is not the Empty. You know it isn't. Warmth, light, magic...ours and yours. You can feel it because you're alive, Gears."

ZATANNA: She pressed her lips together in a smile when Belphegor pretended they didn't know she was referencing them. They knew. And they knew that she knew. "Naturally," she smiled. Though the smiles disappeared the moment the spell was over and the screaming started. She wasn't sure if she'd done the spell wrong or not, but she knew that wasn't suppose to happen. She was about to approach them to see if she could troubleshoot whatever was going on when they yelled angrily at her about this being some kind of trick. "It's not a—" she gasped as Raphael yanked her to the side just as Belphegor lunged at her. Zatanna grabbed onto the counter to support herself so she didn't fall, but in doing so she cut herself on some glass that shattered during the spell. She gasped and pulled her hands away before turning her attention back to the scene. Raphael was holding them now...and they'd called them Belgirel? Zee kept a cautious distance from the two Archangels as Raph tried to calm Belph-Belgirel down. Realization dawned on Zatanna's face. "They changed the wish," she whispered. "Son of a bitch..."

BELGIREL: He was stopped before he could manage to put an end to this vision, but it wouldn't let him. Arms wrapped around him, and although they weren't confining him completely, he felt like it was trying to. "No!" He screamed, struggling to get away. He wasn't going to fall for this. It wasn't real. It was never real. He reared his head back before trying to slam it into Raphael's head. It broke him away from them, but he wasn't prepared to stand on his own, so he fell to the floor.  He felt more stuck then he'd been in their arms. He was breathing heavily, which felt like a new experience. When was the last time he'd breathed? He looked around him like this Raphael instructed. They were right that this didn't feel like what he'd known for centuries, but he didn't recognize it. He was distrustful, but he heard Zatanna. "What wish?" He asked. "What is this?"

RAPHAEL: Raphael wasn't expecting the headbutt but it was nice to see his brother still had a fighting spirit after everything. They adjusted themself, healing almost immediately, but they did not move to grab Gears as he pulled away and subsequently fell to the ground. There were gears turning inside Belgirel's head, all puns intended, as they tried to process what was going on. Raphael was still blocking Zatanna with their body in case Belgirel got a second wave of energy, but it was clear he was already spent. "Zatanna and I have were working on a spell with Belphegor to give them a moment of peace and quiet from the Void. We used wish magic this time. They were supposed to say I wish the Void can't speak until tonight at midnight but it would appear they had some ideas of their own." They were always wishing for Gears so although this was unexpected, it wasn't entirely surprising.

ZATANNA: As Belgirel eyed them suspiciously, she eyed him suspiciously. Raphael seemed certain that this was Belgirel they were dealing with but given that Belphegor changed the spell without telling them the exact wording, she wasn't sure what else changed. "They had the audacity to lecture me about being more careful and never go off script. Laeh," she muttered into her hand to heal the cuts and scrapes she'd received. She peered over the side of Raphael, their massive form still blocking almost all of her except for her head. "Hello." She waved cautiously with her hand which carried a rope burn that matched Belgirel's. "We met briefly before. I'm Zatanna Zatara or apparently better known as the woman that makes your oldest brother more tolerable."

BELGIREL: He was still hesitant to believe all of this. It sounded like a scheme the Void would cook up, and even now he could still hear people being tortured in the distance. It didn't sound like he'd gotten out, but some of this other stuff felt real. He was able to move freely, to breathe, to see light and color. "Hello," he greeted Zatanna. She seemed faintly familiar, though he didn't remember her well. The rope burns were more familiar to him, and he rubbed his wrists. "I wouldn't know you for that." He'd only seen her briefly. He had no idea how she affected Michael. "So they wished for me to be here? Then where are they?" He looked around. Why would they disappear if they had wanted to see him? His heart started racing and he looked down at what he was wearing. He pulled on the fabric, something he had never put on himself. They weren't his clothes. This wasn't his body. The screams he was hearing weren't just the standard ones. "No, no, no, no, no." He looked up at Raphael and Zatanna desperately. "You have to send me back! They're stuck in there! It's hurting them." He couldn't get back up off the floor but he pulled on Raphael's pant leg to plead with them. "Send me back!"

RAPHAEL: "No, you'd know her from the time she willingly bound herself to your astral form." They were among the people who wouldn't let Zatanna live that down. In her defense though, her self-preservation skills were improving. She kept her distance from Belgirel and allowed Raphael's body to continue to block most of his access to her. Raph could feel the panic building up inside Belgirel as he came to the realization of where his twin was now. It was hard to see Gears beg like this. It wasn't hard to imagine that he must've pleaded for his life like this more than a hundred times. Raphael's form shifted back and they knelt down beside their brother so that they were on even ground. "Zatanna, can you get us some water and food?" they asked. It wouldn't make the news any easier to deliver, but it was clear Belgirel needed some sustenance. As the magician went about the task, Raphael turned their attention back to their brother. "With the way this spell worked, we can't create a counter spell to bring them back unless we know the exact wording they used," they explained gently. Based on Gears confusion, Raph doubted he'd heard the spell Belphegor used but it was best practice to ask. Raph would never dismiss either of the twins input. Perhaps Gears did hear a word or two. "Did you catch any of it in the exchange?"

ZATANNA: "They're always saying that like they expect me to regret it," she sighed. "I, in fact, don't." Had it been dangerous? Yes, more than a little. But it also allowed Michael to tell Belgirel he was sorry and it gave all of them some knowledge about the Empty. Zatanna felt an ache in her chest as Belgirel figured out just where Belphegor was. Perhaps that was because she empathized with him or perhaps it was because he now controlled Belphegor's empathy manifestation, but his pain was palpable. Based on the fact that Belgirel could hardly muster the energy to move, she deemed that he wasn't really a threat. She was relieved when Raphael made the request for food and water. There was some in the mini-fridge at the front end of the shop. It would give her a small break from the heavy energy. "I'll be right back."

She was shaking slightly as she made her way to the front of the shop. She opened up the fridge but it was slim pickings. She hoped Beelzebub would stop by with more options. If Raphael could discern that this was Belgirel's energy, the others were sure to pick up on it soon if they hadn't already. She grabbed the PB&J sandwich, apple, and bottle of water from the fridge and made her way back over to the two Archangels. "I'm going to go call the others and inform them of what's happened," she told Raphael as she handed them the food. "I'm going to need you to tell Cupid though," she called to them over her shoulder as she made her way to the front of the shop again.

BELGIREL: He frowned. "What was wrong with her doing that?" Sure it had been practically torturous for them both, but she hadn't seemed all that bothered by it at the time, and he was used to torture, even if it did get significantly worse after that event. It still wasn't nearly as bad as this. The mention of food and water didn't faze Belgirel. They didn't register as real things to him since he'd go so long without them. He was far more focused on what was happening to Belphegor, hearing the pain they were in. "But we have to," he insisted. "You don't understand. You don't know what it's like in there. You can't know. They weren't supposed to know," he whimpered. He was desperate for something to get them out of there. "No. No. I don't- The Void hasn't been letting me see anything lately. It's just been- It was- It can't do it to them too." Storms started to rage on outside the shop, and although he didn't recognize it, his twin's powers were amplifying his feelings. His nails dug into his scalp like that would somehow stop the screaming or stop their pain, like he could transfer their pain to himself. He just had to dig deeper. Dig straight through your skull. He stopped when he recognized the Void's voice. He felt like he'd been slapped. He looked at what Zatanna had brought into the room. Fruit pulp between bread slices, another fruit, and water encased in some sort of clear membrane. His stomach screamed at him.

RAPHAEL: "The same thing that's wrong about Belphegor doing this. It's unpredictable and unsafe." Much like Zatanna, they were pretty sure Belphegor wouldn't necessarily regret their actions. Belgirel's panic and anxiety was building up with no signs of slowing down. Raphael conjured a circular ward around themself and Gears in an attempt to keep Belgirel's energy from spreading. They gently took his hand in theirs once he stopped digging his nails into his scalp. "With the kind of magic that was used, trying to undo the spell will only make it worse. If we mess with it they could end up stuck there forever, and I know you don't want to risk that," they explained gently as they waved their other hand over Belgirel's face to heal the small bleeds he caused himself when he dug his nails into his skin. "What I can tell you is prior to casting this spell, we talked to Belphgor about putting a very specific time limit on their wish. It's to end the spell tonight at midnight. They might have changed their wish, but I don't think they'd disregard that advice. If they don't return by midnight tonight, I'll perform a counter spell with whatever we can piece together. But right now, we have to ride it out and see where it takes us."

Raphael took the food that Zatanna brought forward. It wasn't much, but they needed to start Belgirel off with something small anyway. They nodded to her when she told them that they'd need to be the one to tell Cupid. It was probably for the best. She would likely have as much of a difficult time with this as Belgirel was having at the moment. They unwrapped the sandwich from the plastic wrap and held it out to Gears. "We're about to have some company over once Zatanna gets the message out to everyone. I'll do everything I can to make sure it's not overwhelming, but you'll need to eat first. I'm afraid it won't block out what you hear from the Empty but it'll help you stay in control of Belphegor's depression manifestation."

BELGIREL: He didn't feel like it was the same. Zatanna seemed to know what she was doing, but Belphegor had no idea what they were doing by sending themself into the Empty. It was worse than they could ever imagine. It didn't give him any sort of comfort to hear that trying to get them back could make things worse. "So what- We're just supposed to leave them in there? That . . . Thing finally got them in its grasp like it's always wanted, and we just have to let it torture them? How are they supposed to come back from that?" Even just a few moments in that place was so disorienting that there was no telling how long you actually spent in there, but he didn't want to risk them getting stuck there forever. He didn't know how to get them back even if he tried. "How long is that?" He asked, not sure if he even understood time anymore. He just wanted it to be soon.

He watched as Raphael unwrapped the sandwich. Apparently its outer casing wasn't part of the meal. He took the sandwich hesitantly, unsure if he even remembered how to eat. He opened his mouth, stuffed the whole thing in and swallowed. If he were human, it would've lodged in his throat, but although it had a rough ride, it went down well enough. It was strange having something in his stomach, but it made him feel like he needed more. He held out his hand for the other food Zatanna had given Raphael too. "Company?" He asked. "Who?"

RAPHAEL: "I know this isn't what you want for them, but it's the safest course we can take. I promise you when they get back, and they will get back, we'll walk them through the aftermath. They can do this, Gears," Raph reassured him. They had faith in Belphegor's abilities to hold out. Bells was more resilient than people gave them credit for. "Right now, all we can do is make use of the time we have which isn't a lot. Maybe 12 hours at most." Time likely ran differently in the Empty but it was hard to guess how different it was. They hoped for both the twins sake that Belphegor wouldn't be there for too long.

Raphael handed Belgirel the apple once he was done with the sandwich. At this point, they were sure Gears could probably beat Beelzebub in an eating competition. "Our family and probably Cupid, Dagon, and Andras too." They couldn't avoid telling Cupid or Dagon what happened today. And Dagon would be sure to bring her twin along. He'd probably try to bring Gears entire unit with him, but Raph imagined Asmo would put a quick stop to that. "Would you like to see them?" they asked. It was better to ask than to assume that Belgirel would be up for all of that. Based on sessions they'd had with Cupid, Raph knew there were some hard conversations Belgirel would need to have with her specifically.

BELGIREL: Nothing about it was safe, but there was nothing he could do about it. "No. There is no 'they can do this' to it. You don't get it." When it came to that place, your ability to handle tough situations didn't matter. It happened whether you could handle it or not, and then it just kept going. What was being able to do it even supposed to mean in that context? Of course they could do it. The Void would make sure that they kept going. They were basically already dead, and the Void wasn't going to permanently kill them when it had so much enjoyment in their pain and when the torture itself might push them over the edge once they got back to their body. Nobody really got what being in the Empty meant. There was nothing strong about existing in there. He wasn't strong for having been in there. He didn't just get through it. He just existed there to be tortured and played with for someone else sick and twisted amusement. How was anyone supposed to reassure him about his twin being in there? He looked away from Raphael. He didn't want to be reassured anymore. He just wanted to get this over with.

He silently took the apple. It didn't fit in his mouth whole at first, but he unhinged his jaw until it did. He swallowed it down too. His throat expanded as it went down slowly.

He had mixed feelings about seeing everyone. He wasn't sure what he could say to them, and he didn't want them to see him like this. He worried that some of them might be angry with him or that his presence might make them more upset, especially Cupid since Belphegor had taken his place in the Empty. He did want to see then though. He missed them all greatly, and it felt wrong to not see them one last time while he was here. He could get a real goodbye in before he left this time. "If they want to see me, yeah." He nodded.

RAPHAEL: "You're right. I don't," they agreed. Belgirel was projecting his own experiences onto his twin, but the difference was that for Belphegor at least they knew this would likely have an end. They would get to return to the safety of their own home. For Belgirel, there was no end therefore it was hard to imagine the pain ever stopping. There wasn't much Raphael could do to reassure him at this point other than to work on a plan with Zatanna to bring Belphegor back in case they didn't return at midnight.

They unscrewed the cap off of the water bottle and held it out to Belgirel. "Don't place the whole thing in your month," they instructed. "You're going to want to drink out of the opening. The container is not edible." They could hear the bell in front of the shop ding as people started entering. Familiar voices floated in but they did not enter the back of the shop just yet. "I'm sure they do," Raph smiled softly. They stood up and held their hand out to Belgirel in a gesture of support. "Can you stand?"

BELGIREL: He took the water container and was already starting to put it in his mouth before Raphael told him not to. It was hard to believe it wasn't edible when the container was so thin and clear, but he did as he was told, lifting the opening to his mouth. It was still awkward. He didn't have it properly lined up, and some spilled onto his chin as the rest made it down his throat. It was cool and refreshing, but once again, he felt a desperation to have more. In an instant, he'd sucked up all the water and crushed the bottle against his face. He handed it back to Raphael. "Sorry, I broke it. Can I have more?" He took Raphael's hand, using it to stand up, though his legs shook beneath him. He looked in the direction where he'd heard voices. He needed to seem like he was okay, so he wouldn't worry everyone. He willed himself to stand even if it was hard. "I can do it." He nodded and let go of Raphael's hand.

ZATANNA: Things started getting hectic as soon as the Archangels started arriving. The shop was small and filled up rather quickly. Zee knew that for Belgirel's safety, it was best to keep all of the visits contained to this location. Thankfully, she had a contingency plan. She had plenty of top hats at the back of the shop and inside those top hats she could create pocket dimensions that catered to everyone's taste. She excused herself from the crowd and made her way toward the back. She slipped in quietly in time to see Raphael helping Belgirel up. "The gang's all here," she replied as she picked up a top hat. "This place is too small for a family reunion, but I can create a few pocket dimensions for everyone. I figured you two can test them out first and while you're gone I can set up everyone elses. Do you have a preference for what yours looks like?" she asked Raph.

Just as she posed the question, she could hear Dagon's voice just beyond the door frame. "Andras, stop it. You can't go in there. Do you want Asmo to send you back home? Come on..." She could hear Andras complaining but their voices got further away from the door. She figured Dagon must've pulled him away. Zee let out a long breath. It was going to be a very long day.

RAPHAEL: “That’s okay. No harm, no fowl. You're still learning how all of this works." Raphael used to say those sorts of things all the time when the younger siblings were still learning their craft. "We can always make more.” The bottles were disposable after all. They conjured up a few more and handed them over to Gears. He seemed certain that he could do this, but Raphael could tell he was barely hanging on. The depression manifestation had at least subsided enough to make visitation safe. Raph turned their attention to the door as Zatanna walked in. They nodded at her proposed plan. Giving each of their siblings a pocket dimension of their own would keep the place from getting too cluttered and overwhelming. “That sounds like a good idea.” Their visit with Gears would not only give Zatanna time to prepare, but it would also give Belgirel more time to emotionally prepare for this influx of visitors. Raph didn’t know what the Empty was like, but they doubted there was much opportunity for friendly company.

“I think somewhere open and airy would be nice. Perhaps a forest clearing with a camping set up?” they suggested. They could make a small meal or perhaps roast some marshmallows by the fire while they helped Belgirel regulate and adjust. They chuckled softly as Dagon’s voice came through. News traveled fast among the angels. Andras was likely to make that sort of attempt more than once tonight. “I’ll monitor the pocket dimensions when I get back,” they assured Zatanna.

BELGIREL: The phrase Raphael used was foreign to Belgirel. He didn't know what birds were supposed to do with this. He supposed he was learning how the phrases worked too. He took the extra bottles Raphael made and tried to figure them out. He'd seen them pull off the top of one of them, so he tried to do that, but it didn't just come off by pulling it straight up. He pulled harder until he managed to force it off. He broke the lid, but he assumed it was supposed to do that. He drank the entire bottle again, managing not to smash it this time, and he moved on to drink the others until they were all gone. He didn't really know what Zatanna was talking about, but he was more focused on drinking all the water available to him.

He looked out towards the door when he heard Dagon and Andras's voices. He felt suddenly nervous and unprepared along with an excited thrill. He hadn't seen them in so long, and to an extent, he'd felt like being able to see everyone was just an exaggeration, but they were just out there. "Can I have more food in that place?"

ZATANNA: She watched with some concern as Belgirel tried to work the water bottles. "Yeah, I can do food. I'll add a small stream for you guys too." She held out her hand over the top hat and recited a few backward spells. Normally the dimensions she created weren't super ornate. They were used for storage or as free range farms for her animals or training grounds for her students, but with enough concentration and imagination, she was able to create a small campsite near a brook with lots of food and other provisions for Raphael and Belgirel. "Let me just make sure..." Zatanna put on the hat and disappeared within it. She ran one final check through the pocket dimension before reappearing in front of Raph. "You're all set." She handed them the hat. "I'm going to get the the other dimensions ready," she replied as she grabbed a few more top hats. "Let me know if you two need anything."

RAPHAEL: They smiled as they watched Belgirel figure out the water bottle. It wasn't exactly how it worked, but it certainly was creative problem solving and it got the job done. "Thank you," they replied when Zatanna offered to add food and a source of water for them. They watched her rapidly create the dimension and contain it in the hat. It was always neat to see her work. They grinned when she disappeared within the hat. There was a joke to be made here about magicians and disappearing tricks, but Belgirel wouldn't have the context to understand it just yet. A moment later, Zatanna reappeared and held the hat out to them. "We'll see you in about an hour," they nodded. As Zatanna walked away, they turned their attention back to their brother. "This hat will take us to a place where we can talk more privately. I've got a lot to tell you, but we'll take it slow." With that, they linked arms with Belgirel, placed the top hat on their head, and disappeared with him into the pocket dimension.

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #belphegor: discords #belgirel: discords #raphael: discords

[bubblyani]

Delicious as You

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2,304

Summary: Unexpectedly stopping by one night during your cooking adventures in the kitchen, Lucifer was determined to have you all to himself. But to his surprise, you were equally determined to get your cooking done. Who will win?

Author’s Note: Sorry for being absent without any Lucifer content. Had this idea while I was cooking one day. Stayed in my head for a while until I finally decided to vent my frustration through words. Enjoy Thirsty Luci-fans!

He watched her, like a hawk. But instead of having a predatory intention, he was full of fascination. He drank in the curves of her face, the warm cheeks that lifted as she smiled to herself, the wrinkles that formed in the corners of her eyes, giving her lips some competition with a touch of sunshine. He drank it all while she worked her magic in the kitchen. She was certainly lost in her own little world.

For she had not even noticed his presence for the last 5 minutes. Bored already, he decided to change that.

“Boo…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Boo!”

Looking up, a squeak came out of you as you clutched your chest, dropping the steel bowl on the counter top with loud clang. You realized it was Lucifer Morningstar standing before you, his hands resting inside his pockets while he watched you work in the kitchen island.

“Lucifer!” You cried out, “H-How did you get in here?” You babbled. “Well…I seem to recall you giving me a spare key to your humble abode…” he said nonchalantly, holding up the small key for display. Sighing with relief, you chuckled. Of course you did, you remember promising him one when he repeatedly demanded whilst claiming his rights.  

“Oh yeah…I forgot that” You said, pushing the steel bowl to the back, “Well…how can I help you today?” Your tone was a mocking equivalent to a sales assistant at a clothing store. Lucifer scoffed in kind.

“I prefer to call this a visit from a concerned lover, rather than a favor” he replied with much sass. You stifled a smile. Indeed, you were more than happy to have your super handsome, wonderfully talented and secretly benevolent boyfriend around more than anything. Truthfully, sometimes you would even wonder what made him fall for you in the first place.

“In the mood for a culinary adventure tonight?” Lucifer inquired, walking over to your side. You nodded.

“You bet, slow cooking night, baby!” You said joyfully, whilst peeling off the papery layers of some onions and cloves of garlic. Cooking was always exhilarating. But slow cooking with a touch of exotic flavors brought it to another level. No wonder you were in high spirits. No wonder a smile was on your face when the pieces of meat were seasoned with sea salt and ground black pepper, before Lucifer frightened the living daylights out of you.

“As much as I commend your love of the culinary arts…” Lucifer stressed, before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “…the dance floors at Lux misses you immensely…And so does my warm bed…” he purred. As much as it brought warmth to your heart, you laughed it out to sound unaffected:

“Ha! Now that’s a panty dropper of a line” you joked, taking the knife in hand to chop the onions. You felt Lucifer scoff as his breath fell on your neck.

“Oh! Humor was clearly not the intended emotion I was trying rouse from you…” he said, flashing a naughty smile. Though you were busy crushing the garlic, your heart felt heavy for the man. Due to your recent busy schedule, you were deprived of the opportunity to visit and witness the flourishing business of his nightclub, LUX. You missed it as well, for every night there was a night to remember. And seeing the proud smile on Lucifer’s face every time you would wake up in his bed was something to hold on to.

“Awww…” You pouted, looking his way, “…just be a little patient, babe…” you said, turning back to chopping, “I’ll be right…” you paused to yawn , “…with you”. Whilst yawning, your body involuntarily stretched, pushing your buttocks back, only to accidentally have them brush against his clothed manhood. “Oh…my” You heard Lucifer mutter with fascination. Not caring much for it, you completely missed the naughty smile that returned to his face. A few seconds later, you suddenly felt the tightly wrapped apron loosen.

“Lucifer…?” You began questioningly,“What are you doing?” When you caught him in the act.

“Oh, you know. Just being patient…” He said innocently, his hands firmly gripping on your waist, “…might as well keep myself occupied…” he purred. Suspicious, you raised your eyebrows. “Clearly…” you said, “But w-oh!” Your suspicions were on point when you realized his right hand quickly dug inside your elastic shorts. Stomach retracting in response, it was the moment you knew where this was heading, what his intentions were, “Oh…you’re cheeky…”

“Not as cheeky as you are…” Lucifer teased smugly, slapping your buttocks in an instant. You chuckled loudly. Except those chuckles only lasted a few seconds when you gasped , queuing his beautiful fingers to graze over your panties. The few weeks of sexual depravity was handed to the world on a silver platter with your hushed breaths and twitching.

“Your resolute attitude is much appreciated, Mr. Morningstar…” your voice shook, as you reached for the mortar and pestle, “…but I have a dish to prepare…Oh my!…” unable to finish the sentence, you cried out. He defied you when his skilled fingers dipped inside your cotton panties, obtaining close contact with the bare skin between your thighs.

This, this was a battle of the wills. Being the stubborn man he was, Lucifer Morningstar would stop at nothing to get what he desired: You.

But you were not going to give up so easily. No matter he would try to make you cave in, you will thrive with your culinary mission tonight.

“In the mood for some spices, Lucifer?” Your inquiry was brimming with teases, taking a few steps to grab the steel spice container. Like a conjoined twin, he followed you wherever you moved towards. “Why not?” He breathed against your ear, “Nothing’s better than getting this tongue fired up…”

Adding spices in the correct measurements to a mortar would typically be considered an easy task. But nothing was of the typical nature at this moment. Not when your lover was occupied in distracting you using the nastiest method possible. Your body began to jerk when you felt three of his fingers familiarize themselves with the fleshy outer lips around your slit. His index finger and ring finger marked their territories there, while his middle finger gingerly stroked the sensitive tip that began to swell the longer he stroked it in tiny flicks. Having gained access to the part which induced the most pleasure, Lucifer held the liberty to do whatever he pleased with it. His finger stroked it in circles, he stroked it in straight lines, in triangles, and even in shapes that only existed in his subconscious. Regardless, every second he played with you, a small fire was lit up within, only to have that fire burst into gigantic flames. When he daringly inserted that finger into your thoroughly wet opening. All while his ears indulged in your cries of pleasure.


Taking the pestle, you began to grind up the onions, garlic with the spices in a fashion that was much more intense than it was previously done. And Lucifer noticed instantly. He felt victorious.

“My my…aren’t you the hard worker?” He commented in a seductive tone. Bitting your lower lip due to the fact his finger was literally inside of you, chuckling was the only option. “Of course, how else am I to let my frustrations out?” You said, looking over to him. “Well…” he said, licking his lips, “…you can always turn back to me-” “Not until this is done” you insisted, not willing to give up. Not ever. “Your call, darling” Lucifer said, as his finger quickly began to move in and out of you. Groaning, you finally stopped grinding the spices. “Ah fuck!” You cried out, “…fuck fuck fuck…” you repeated through gritted teeth,  “Lucifer, that’s not helping” you added with desperation. “Who said I intended to help?” He said darkly, his stubble grazing over your shoulder. He was not jesting for sure. When your hand reached out to grab the salted meat in the steel bowl, Lucifer’s left hand surprised you, by reaching up to cup your left breast over the t-shirt. But you would be fibbing if you did not admit your increased arousal at that point. Feeling the softness that resting on his palm, Lucifer was more than pleased.

“Oh!” He said amusingly, “Braless at home, are we?” He smiled mischievously,  “Lucifer, you lucky devil…” he said to himself. You rolled your eyes with a grin. “And again with the Devil persona…Ah!” Once again, you were forced to bite your lower lip when his fingers moved steadily in rhythm. Closing your eyes, you wished to savor this. Savor his loving to your leisure. But you had meat to marinade. Looking at the spice paste and the meat, you inhaled with determination. “Okay…” you began, smearing the spices over the pieces of meat, “This shouldn’t be too hard…Oh fuck!” Throwing your head back, you felt Lucifer tease you even more. For whilst you smeared and massaged the raw meat with the aromatic paste, his eager right hand massaged your breast, even having the audacity to pull the nipple through the shirt, making it thoroughly erect. “Ah! Shan’t leave the other feeling jealous…” Lucifer said, which made your eyebrows furrow. “What? Oh Lucifer….” You moaned, when you realized how his hand moved to your other breast to do the same. With two erect buds at the mercy of his touch, you felt the heat increase within you like a sauna.

“Oh boy…” you exhaled frustratingly, trying so hard not to scream in arousal with this torture. This sweet, delicious torture to be specific. Turning the stove on, you poured the oil on to the Dutch Oven. But it was certainly a challenge when your lovers hands were all over you. Lucifer’s mischievous chuckle tickled your ears.

“Come on, Y/N…” Lucifer whispered, “You know you want this bad…”. He thought he had you, dead to rights.

When the ginger and garlic paste infused with the cinnamon sticks in the hot oil, the aroma was invigorating. Throwing your head back over his shoulder, you tried to distinguish the pleasures you were gifted with. The aroma of your cooking, and the eager passionate touch of the man you longed to defile everywhere with.

“Not…until…it’s done…” you said with difficulty. As much as you said this to him, this was also for yourself. Only a little while longer till you had to hold out on this frustration. Truthfully, you could just stop all this, spin around and pounce at him wildly. But the task you started with genuine interest would end up burnt, ignored and wasted. When you added the seasoned meat into the pan, you heard the pan sizzle loudly whilst indulging on the rich aroma that traveled all the way through your nostrils.

“Well, I do like a challenge” Lucifer cried out, proceeding to make everything more diffusely by kissing your neck. His lips on your neck, his hands on your bosom and between your thighs, he literally was lighting you in flames. The delicious aroma and the whiff of his cologne mixed together drove you wild with arousal. You could imagine it, his body on top of your own, licking his own lips before he proceeded to your lick your bare frame, eating off the food you just cooked. No matter what he did, he was insanely skilled at it. He was simply inhuman. Though you washed your hands frantically, though your cleansed your hands of the spices, your mind becoming filthier by the second. Holding the tap tightly, you felt a jerk inside. That was it.

“Lucifer!” You moaned, “I’m close…so close…” you breathed, motivating his fingers to increase speed. Moving your hands towards the marble counter, a loud cry exited your lips as you finally, found your release.

This release was certainly different from all the others you have shared with him.

“Whoa!” You panted, as his fingers retracted, “What-How did you even do that?” You said, looking at him over the shoulder. He smiled. “Darling…”  Lucifer began with pride,  “It’s me…” he said, making your jaw drop as he brought his finger to his lips, sucking your juices in front of your very eyes. You shook your head. “Show off..” You panted with a smile. He chuckled, looking at the pan,  “I bet that won’t be as delicious as you are, my darling” “Normally, I’d be insulted if anyone disses my cooking…” you said, as you stirred the meat, “…but in this case I really don’t know what to say…” you added dreamily. “A Thank you would be suffice…” “How about this…as a thank you?” You said, making his eyes widened with disbelief when you finally closed the the lid of the dutch oven, and turning the stove heat low. Your job was complete. And now it was all up to time to solve this culinary equation.

“Finally…” turning you towards him, Lucifer pulled to kiss you roughly on the lips. It felt like you were being gifted for doing a wonderful job. His kisses were that rewarding. You blushed when you tasted yourself in him, especially as his tongue jumped in to show you.

“Now that I have your complete attention…” your lover began, letting you go, “I’m afraid you won’t escape me for a few hours” he said. You giggled.

“F-few?” You inquired, seeing him put away his phone “Oh wow” you chuckled, full of squeals when he grabbed you by the waist once again.

“Darling…” he purred, brushing his nose against yours, “…Tonight I’m all yours…”

When he kissed you fully once more, you were certainly very glad you decided on slow cooking tonight.

——————————————————

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[fabricated-misslieness]

I AM ONCE AGAIN SIMPING FOR BASIM

Basim Ibn Ishaq x harpist gender neutral reader

So am I, and I fear I will always be. reader knows how to play harp

Requested: Yes, probably, can’t tell

Word Count: 871

Music, it was easy to get lost in it, even easier when you were the one who played it. The harp was a complicated skill, at least that what people say. You’d mastered the art long ago and were famed to be the best harpist in the world. Sure, that was what they’d say, but you didn’t tend to let it get to your head. In your opinion, you had many ways to go, as does everybody else.

As the ‘best harpist’ you had your supporters and your haters. You barely even spared them a glance, only accepting compliments with a brief ‘thank you’ but never taking them to heart. Their lives are their lives and their compliments or insults meant nothing to you. One of the reasons why was because of your connections; various nobles, bards, and even royals treated you with respect and kindness. They hung to your very word. Fools, in your opinion, but there was no way you could really shoo them away from you. Then you’d be on their bad side, which of course, was worse than being on their good side; which is why a lot of people tried to get on your good side. You used to be able to distinguish between supporters and sycophants, but as the days grew on and people grew silver-tongues it was rather hard to see the difference.

The only person you really trusted anymore was your lover, Basim. Even when you knew he was an assassin with a silver-tongue of his own, he seemed more genuine than all those nobles out there. His smile reassured you and his eyes said everything, you were the only person that could see him with his guard down. Not to mention he was one of your biggest supporters, although you couldn’t take his compliments either. Despite knowing that, he kept them rolling as if he were trying to drown you in them. At times it was a bit overwhelming, other times it was quite humorous.

“Good evening, my dear.” Speak of the devil.

“Mmh,” You sigh, setting your harp down to stand on its own. You were in the middle of playing something when he’d come in the room, interrupting you. “good evening.”

“No, no, you don’t have to stop for me.” Nevertheless, he sits next to you and pulls you into a hug, giving you a kiss on the cheek when you pull apart.

“It’s alright,” You assure him, staring into those beautiful brown eyes, from these you could tell he was glad to see you. “My shoulder needed a break, so did my fingers.” You stretch as far as you can, earning a laugh from him. You quirk your head rather adorably in confusion.

“You’re adorable.” The compliment brings him a smile from you. It was nice to hear compliments when they weren’t about your harp skills, since those came in abundance.

You roll your shoulder as an attempt to ease their soreness before leaning on his shoulder to rest. “Right back at you, handsome.”

He smiles down at you, running his hands through the strands of your hair. “Hmm,” You hum in the bliss the feeling brings. “What brings you here?”

“The sounds of your melodies do. I could’ve recognized it from a mile away. If you get any better, maybe Bragi or Apollo will get jealous. They’ll challenge you to a competition and be sore losers when you win, like Arachne.” He jokes. As a man who questions beliefs, he knows much about mythologies and religions.

“Bragi would not be the type.” You reply, leaning into his touch the tiniest bit more. “He is too wise. Apollo on the other hand, he might just do so. You never know, as Athena didn’t seem like the type either.” You hear many myths from him and he is often the one who educates you about these. Sometimes he’ll try to spike up a debate, though the both of you know that you will not stand a chance against him anyway.

“She did seem a bit prideful, though, you can’t deny that.” Anybody who eavesdropped on your conversation would call you heretics, not that either of you minded.

“Mhm,” You agree. You just can’t seem to form words with the way he scratches your scalp. It makes you want to fall asleep, but you should be practicing right now. A little nap would not cause any harm, would it?

Basim seems to catch on your state of consciousness, and he works harder to ease you into sleep. “Go on, maybe you should take a longer break.”

“Yea,” You let out a small yawn. “Only if you take a rest too.”

Basim nods, “Sure, I could use one.” He moves to lay down, pulling you down with him. With your head on his chest, you hear his heartbeat; it’s soothing to know he’s there. In no time, what with his stroking, warmth and all, your eyes close and you’re about to slip into sleep. In your last seconds of consciousness, he whispers the words you love to hear.

“Sweet dreams, darling. I love you.”

Even if it could possibly wake you up a little, you respond. “I love you too, my love.”

#basim ibn ishaq x reader #basim x reader #basim x gender neutral reader #ac valhalla fanfiction #craving fic

[artificialqueens]

You Light a Fire in My Heart (Rosénali) - Moonshot

A/N: I wasn’t expecting to write a follow-up to the first diner au this fast but I’ve genuinely fallen in love with the little au verse I’ve created. For context, this is set about a year after the events of ‘On The Ground’, and it spans across three months (March, April, and May). Flashbacks are in italics, and I hope you enjoy it x

Summary: The time(s) Rosé tried to be the best girlfriend to her Nali

Also on Ao3

-

If you had told Rosé a year ago that she would be dating one of the most amazing girls she’d ever met in her life, she would have believed you. Who wouldn’t want to date a fine bonnie lass like her?

What she wouldn’t have believed would have been that she was admittedly a tiny bit jealous of her girlfriend’s crush for a K-pop singer that shared her name.

Rosé was working on her laptop, busy mixing a track she had recorded with Jan and Lagoona when Denali had walked into the living room.

“OH MY GOD! I just finished watching Blackpink’s interview with James Corden and Rosé’s got the CUTEST accent! Her Aussie accent is so sexy too…” she remembered her girlfriend saying as she walked into her living room, her eyes glued to the phone in her hand.

“Hey!”, the pink-haired girl puffed out, “my Scottish accent is sexy too!”

Denali looked up, her left brow raised, “Says who?”, she asked teasingly.

“…My grandma”, Rosé replied unconvincingly, causing her girlfriend to laugh out loud.

“My Rosie is so cute when she’s jealous!”, she sing-sang, stamping a sloppy kiss on the older girl’s cheek.

“I’m not!”, she huffed as the black-haired girl sat next to her on the couch.

“You know she’s not my favorite in the group. Wanna know why?” Denali asked, draping her arms around Rosé’s neck.

“Why?”.

“Because you’ll always be my favorite Rosie”, she whispered in her girlfriend’s ear.

Rosé was sure her cheeks were matching colors with the shade of pink of her hair.

“Cheesy bitch”, she muttered as Denali hid her face in the crook of her neck.

“Yours truly”.

She remembered letting her girlfriend rest on her chest, the sweet strawberry scent of Denali’s shampoo filling her nose as she tried to focus on the track she was working on. 

However, another thought was buzzing in her head. 

The brunette’s birthday - the first one since they had started dating - was coming up soon and Rosé had absolutely no idea what to get her. 

Dedicating her a song, while definitely in her range, was too obvious of a gift. She really wanted to surprise her, to give her something she would remember for years to come.

With less than a month to the date, Rosé decided to go to the very familiar diner to pick up something quick to eat before going to grab the equipment she needed for her weekly set across the street. 

As she walked up to the register to pay up after having grabbed some pastries, she couldn’t help but notice the absence of a familiar face. She was sure Denali was set to be on shift at that hour.

Her attention was drawn back to the guy behind the counter.

“Hey, gorge! Looking for me?”, Mik asked as he took the pastry bag from the pink-haired girl.

Rosé rolled her eyes playfully, “Hey to you too, Mik,” she replied as she took out some cash, “Sorry to burst your bubble, short king, I was just wondering where my lovely girlfriend is”.

The shorter guy shrugged, “Your loss. I’m always open for a tall glamazon like you, gorge”, he winked before presenting her the receipt, “it will be 4,99$ for that, and also Nali was allowed to go home early by Miss Iman because she was trying to get tickets for some concert, I think?”

Rosé gave a little nod of acknowledgment and was handing over the cash when a voice caught her attention.

“Oh, no!”, both Mik and Rosé turned their head to another of the diner staff, Olivia, who was looking down at her phone pouting, “Nali just texted me saying that the Blackpink show in Chicago she wanted to go to sold out before she was able to get a standing ticket and the VIP ones are too expensive for her! Oh, poor baby Nali”.

“What other tour dates are they doing?” the singer asked, an idea forming in her head.

The other girl furrowed her brows, trying to remember, “Well, Nali wanted to go to the Chicago one with some of her friends there, that one was in mid-May. If I’m not mistaken, they are doing one in Newark at the end of May, and then the other ones are down south and on the west coast as well? Pretty big tour from what she has told me”.

“Wow, that’s an impressive gig,” Rosé commented, genuinely surprised.

She grabbed the paper bag from the counter, waving goodbye to the two employees, “Well, divas, I’ll leave you to do your jobs. Thanks for the info, I guess my set has to be delayed a bit to deliver these to my girl, and hope to cheer her up a bit, wish me luck!” 

The other two waved her off as she exited the diner. 

The pink-haired girl grabbed her phone from her purse and quickly texted Jan and Lagoona to meet her at her place after her set. 

Maybe she had just found the perfect birthday present for her Nali.

Rosé and Lagoona were sitting at the kitchen table, the Scottish girl’s computer between them open on the ticketing site while Jan was busy gushing with her girlfriend over the phone in the living room.

The blue-haired girl stared at the laptop, clicking her tongue, “Is that the VIP price for both…?”

“Nope, just one. I could afford to get only one VIP ticket for her so she’ll get to enjoy it all by herself”, Rosé replied.

“Holy shit, I fucking wish you were this in love with me to spend that much money for my birthday!” Lagoona commented jokingly before noticing a small detail, “Wait, did you see the date of the concert?”

The pink-haired girl nodded, “Yes, I am aware that the concert happens to be on my birthday. However, this is an opportunity I can’t let Nali give up on,” she reasoned, “Also, I plan on spending many more birthdays with her, so her spending mine doing something she loves makes me happy as well”.

Lagoona shot up and started reaching for kitchen drawers, seemingly looking for something.

“Can I know what the fuck are you doing?”, Rosé asked, arching her manicured brow.

“Looking for a whip because you’re fucking whipped for the girl! I can’t believe it!”, her best friend cackled, actively avoiding the kitchen towel thrown at her.

“Oh, fuck you, bitch!”, the pink-haired girl said in return, unable to hide her own grin at the situation.

At that moment, their purple-haired friend entered the room, saying her goodbyes over the phone before she sat down on the opposite side of Rosé.

“Oh look, who decided to join us!” Lagoona teased as she sat back next to the Scottish girl, “how was the call with the sugar mommy?”

Jan blushed furiously, “Shush, you two! Jackie’s not my sugar mommy! She just… happens to be richer and older than me. Also, she called me because she’s stressed from organizing this big event in May and needed some advice!”, she blurted out, only causing the other two to laugh even harder.

“Yeah, sure whatever you say, Stuntalina the sugar baby. C’mon, I’ve got a new piece I wrote for us to show you!”, Rosé said as she closed the ticket receipt.

She opened her music editing program, pressed play on the last recorded file.

While her best friends were busy enjoying the new song she produced, Rosé checked her phone to find a new text from Denali.

10:52 PM:

thank u so much for the pastries, I really needed them today. You always know how to cheer me up. Goodnight my Rosie <3

The singer smiled. 

She couldn’t wait to show Denali her birthday present.

Denali was lying down on the couch, her eyes on her best friend - and soon-to-be ex-roommate - as she packed the last few things she needed to move out.

“I still can’t believe you’re moving out,” the brunette pouted, “You’re leaving me allllll aloooooooneeeee”, she said dramatically.

“Nali, you’re acting as if I’m moving across the country”, Olivia chuckled, “I’m literally moving in with Utica and Symone, and they live across the street”.

The Alaskan skater threw her head back, “So close, yet so far”.

The younger girl rolled her eyes, reaching for a silver sharpie before throwing it to Denali, “Okay, miss Dramanali. Will you get your ass up and help me finish labeling these boxes?”

It took them a little over an hour to have most of Olivia’s things labeled and boxed, ready to be taken to their new home.

A bottle of soju later, they sat together on the couch in front of the TV as they ate some take-out for dinner, reminiscing of their time as roommates.

“It’s going to be weird to live alone,” Denali confessed as she took a piece of kimbap with her steel chopsticks, “We’ve been roommates ever since I literally moved in from Chicago. But I know it’s the right thing for you, you know”.

Olivia nodded, “I didn’t expect it to take this turn, I mean, I started it out a year ago single and now I’m dating not just one but two of the most awesome people I know?”

“I remember you being bummed when Utica started dating Symone. I sneaked out way too much ice cream from the diner to cheer you up, but look at you now, dating both Utica and Symone, moving in with them? You won the jackpot, Liv!”, the older girl replied, smacking her free hand against the other girl’s thigh.

“Girl, I could say the same about you and miss Rosie. All lovey-dovey, sweet kisses and I love you’s”, Olivia winked as she saw Denali’s cheeks take a pink tint.

“Actually…”, the skater confessed, “she technically hasn’t said the big L word out loud, not like that at least”.

Denali was sure Olivia’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, “WHAT?”

The brunette smiled shyly.

“It’s just… this past year everything has been so perfect with her and what if forcing her to say it will ruin that?”

“Nali, baby, the girl basically lives here. Do I have to remind you just how many times I’ve walked in on you two doing the whole devil’s tango while she looks at you like a lovesick puppy and you are worried about her not saying I love you back?”

The Alaskan girl tried to lighten the mood, “To our defense, you did say that you were spending the night out and that movie was very intense-”

“Nali…”

“I love her, Liv. Like really really love her. And I do see a future with her, but she is such a free spirit, someone who says and does things her own way and I’m worried that I’m going to scare her away,” Denali bit her lower lip, trying her best to not let the emotions get the best of her.

The younger girl took her hand, “Do you remember what I told you that day at the rink when you were scared to ask her out?”

“That you would unleash Kandy on her?”

They both chuckled.

“That’s still on the table if she breaks your heart,” Olivia replied honestly, holding Denali’s hand, “I told you to give it a chance. Tell her about how you feel your relationship is heading, and I got a feeling that she feels the same as you do”.

The two friends savored the moment, only the sound coming from outside the window to fill the void.

Denali was the first one to speak up after a couple of minutes of silence, “See? Who am I supposed to have those heart-to-heart conversations with if I’m alone? The wall?”

Olivia laughed out loud, “The cat lady that lives on the first floor sure seems like a good replacement for me!”

“Donut would run away before I could even let her in, girl”.

“True that,” she took another bite of her rice bowl before setting it down and getting up from the couch, “maybe, after you have your talk with your pink highlighter girlfriend in time for your birthday next week, she can babysit your pillow princess ass!” 

Denali’s mouth was wide open in shock but unable to restrain the laughter. 

“Liv! How dare you!” she said as the younger girl bolted into her room, prompting a not-so-sober chase.

They would totally be getting an angry noise complaint the next day.

Denali felt like her birthday went faster than she would have liked.

It had started with a call from her mom while her friends were trying to make her breakfast in bed - emphasis on trying - only to end up ordering delivery from the bakery two blocks down the street. 

Since she would have still had to work that day, they had opted to hang out at her place the night before, waiting up to midnight to wish her a happy birthday. 

What Denali was really looking forward to was the cute night-in her girlfriend had promised along with her mysterious birthday gift that was seemingly months in the making.

Having barely made it home from the diner, the brunette had just taken off her jacket and scarf when she heard a familiar knock pattern on her door.

She smiled as she was greeted by a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, a bag seemingly full of takeaway boxes, and a bottle of Rosé.

“Isn’t it cannibalism if you drink Rosé?” she teased, letting her girlfriend in the apartment and closing the door behind her.

“I’m letting that slide because it’s your birthday, baby,” the pink-haired girl replied as she set everything down on the kitchen counter.

Denali took a moment to take in how her Rosie looked.

The signature pink leather jacket was open to reveal a very deep low cut top that left close to nothing to the imagination. The black high-waisted jeans hugged her curves in a way that drove Denali crazy just to think about. 

“Liking the view, mama?”, Rosé’s smirk was one of the few things able to make her weak to her knees like that.

“You’re a tease-y bitch”

“Thank you for noticing”, she winked as she walked over to Denali and sneaked her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, towering over her thanks to the pumps she was wearing.

The brunette couldn’t help but smile as she wrapped her arms around Rosé’s neck, getting on her tippy toes to kiss her.

“Happy birthday, my angel”, she whispered against her lips before her strong arms picked Denali up with a small yelp from the younger girl.

“What about dinner?”, she chuckled.

“I’m in a mood to eat something else right now…”, Rosé simply said as she reconnected their lips and started taking her girlfriend to the familiar bedroom.

Denali lied with her head on Rosé’s chest like she always did after they slept together. She could fall asleep just with how the older girl was gently combing her hair with her fingers.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, mama. You still got my birthday gift to open up”, she whispered, making Denali chuckle.

“What? Wasn’t the mind-blowing sex your birthday present?” she teased.

She could feel Rosé smile against her hair, “Thanks for the ego boost, diva, but I think you’ll like the real present more”

She went to reach for the pink jacket on the floor, taking out an envelope and giving it to Denali.

“What is this?”

“Open it up and find out for yourself”

The brunette straightened herself, not caring about the sheets pooling at her waist, and opened the present.

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“You’re kidding me?!”

“Well, it’s not my fault your birthday happens to be on April Fool’s day but it’s all real, angel”, Rosé smiled at her.

“Ahhh! VIP Tickets for Blackpink’s concert?! I love you!”, Denali blurted out and went on to hug her girlfriend.

When she felt the older girl get slightly stiff, she realized just what she had blurted out and did what she did best: she panicked.

“Oh gosh, sorry I didn’t-”

Rosé didn’t reply, just went on cupping her face to calm her down.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t ever feel sorry for how you feel”, she reassured, kissing her forehead, “I just… don’t have the best track record when it comes to being told those three little words. I know how strongly I feel about you. I just want to mean it 100% when I say it, okay?”

Denali nodded, not trusting her words as she knew how hard it was for her girlfriend to talk about her feelings.

Rosé tilted her head, “Now, let me snuggle my…”, she looked over Denali’s shoulder, the clock read 11:05 PM, “birthday girl for another hour”.

She went on to press her girlfriend’s body against hers. She let a couple of minutes pass, making sure that the shorter girl had calmed down.

“Sing me to sleep, Rosie?”, she heard the faintest voice coming from the younger girl, whose arms held her sides tightly.

“Anything for you, angel”.

Almost two months later, Denali couldn’t believe she was actually there, waiting under the smaller stage for the concert to begin.

The soundcheck had been overwhelming, she definitely had almost cried when the girls waved at her section of the crowd. She was sure Lisa was waving at her.

She had even managed to become friends with some of the other fans in the VIP section, having gone to the concert alone - she still was a bit sad that she was missing Rosé’s birthday but understood the argument that this was one in a lifetime opportunity that she couldn’t pass on. 

“I can’t believe how close we are to the stage!” one of the girls to Denali’s right, Sakura, commented, “Based on the videos from the other dates, this is definitely the best side to be on, especially during Lisa’s dance solo!”

“Girl, I know! I’m ready to see her shake that ass!” Denali replied, making both of them chuckle.

“Oh, is that how it is, mama?”

Denali froze.

Was that…

“Rosie?”

There was her girlfriend, sporting the VIP tag around her neck and around her wrist.

“How did you get in? I thought you didn’t manage to get another ticket?”, while she was beyond ecstatic to see her girlfriend there with her at the concert, she was also very confused.

“Up until a couple of hours ago, I didn’t have it, so that was as much of a surprise to you as it is to you,” she smiled, “Remember I told you about how Jan’s girlfriend was busy organizing a big event?” she asked as she recollected what had just happened hours prior.

Both Rosé and Lagoona were sitting on the former girl’s couch, watching reruns of America’s Got Talent and commenting how there would totally be no competition if they decided to audition.

Jan walked in, sipping on her frappuccino, “I know you love us but why aren’t you spending your birthday with your girlfriend?”

“I told you she’s at that Blackpink’s concert today” Rosé reminded her, lowering the TV volume.

“Blackpink? Oh! That’s the project Jackie was helping with organizing. She even offered me a full VIP ticket. Do you want it? It’s barely 3 PM, you just missed the soundcheck”.

The two friends sitting on the couch looked at each other, then at Jan, then back at each other before bolting up from the couch.

“COULDN’T HAVE YOU SAID SOMETHING EARLIER, JANICE?”

“I can’t believe it, Jan is really something else,” Denali smiled, now feeling that everything was complete.

“Me neither, baby. That girl is a mystery,” Rosé replied as she positioned herself behind her shorter girlfriend to hug her from behind, kissing Denali’s cheek “Now, I can check out my competition with the other Rosie in your life”, she joked.

“I promise you’ll be a Blink by the end of the night,” Denali said confidently, melting against the embrace.

“We’ll see about that, little diva”.

When people said time flies by when you’re having fun, Denali just realized how fast.

The concert was a rollercoaster of emotions, from the powerful beginning to the member’s solos - she definitely didn’t miss her girlfriend’s ‘mom dancing’ behind her. 

And now, the soft guitar notes of Hope Not filled the stadium. The ballad had always been one of Denali’s favorites, those raw emotions she had felt so many times were being so beautifully sang out loud and it made her teary-eyed.

Rosé kept her arms secured around her waist, rocking her from side to side. The brunette closed her eyes, fully letting the song guide her.

That’s when she heard Rosé’s voice in her ear, so quiet yet overpowering everything else.

“I love you”.

Denali’s eyes shot open and quickly turned around to be met with the most beautiful smile Rosé had ever given to her, she could only see pure love in her eyes staring back at her. 

She hadn’t even realized the tears spilled down her cheeks as she went in to connect their lips.

Nothing else mattered to her at that moment.

It was just her and her Rosie.

The warm autumn air filled Denali’s living room as they cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

It was almost midnight when the end credits started rolling, the younger girl was already half-asleep, clinging to her girlfriend like a koala bear.

Rosé turned off the TV and turned her attention to her girlfriend, “C’mon, little diva, let go of me, I have to catch the bus home”.

Denali grunted, “Noooo, don’t leave meee,” she protested, her cheek firmly against Rosé’s chest.

“I gotta get home, baby”, the pink-haired girl tried to reason.

“This is your home too. You should just move in already,” Denali replied, slugging her words.

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Rosé stopped for a moment to think about it. She smiled looking down at her girlfriend’s serene face. 

She definitely could see herself wanting to wake up to that every day for a long time.

Denali woke up in her bed the following day, not remembering how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch with-

She shot up and went to the kitchen. She found a still-warm cup of coffee and a note.

She almost choked on the drink as she read the small piece of paper.

I thought you’d never ask

to move in together

Get those papers ready, angel

Your Rosie

PS: we’ve some remodeling to do, mama

Denali couldn’t help the pink tint from erupting across her face. She definitely blamed her sleepy self for being so open with her girlfriend.

On the other side, she had to call her landlord.

Her search for a roommate was over for good.

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #olivia lux #lagoona bloo #jan sport #gottmik #rosnali #mentions of jankie #fluff #lesbian au #diner au #moonshot #submission

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the   devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Words: 2336

A/N: I would say that I was sorry for all the angst but I’m really not! I hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Eleven

The atmosphere in The Great Hall on the day of the Yule Ball thoroughly changed throughout the day, it was Christmas Eve anyway but most of the students weren’t really concerned with it. They were too excited and apprehensive about the evening to come. At breakfast that morning, most of the girls were giddy with excitement and some of the boys were feeling apprehensive. By the time that lunchtime rolled around, the girls were growing impatient and were prone to snapping while the boys had accepted their fate.

At lunch, Sirius greeted you with a kiss on your cheek which made you flush and he sent you a wink that turned your legs to jelly, “looking good, Y/L/N,” he smirked; he looked especially good this afternoon.

You recovered quickly and arched an eyebrow at him, “too good for you,” you teased and received a chuckle as a reply as he sat next to James. They were properly talking to each other again after the whole Snape fiasco.

You grinned to yourself as you glanced back at Lily to see that she had a mingled expression of shock and amusement on her face, “okay, what was that all about?” she lowered her voice and leaned forward with interest.

You rolled your eyes as you smiled at her, “he was upset when he and James were fighting so I um might have kissed him,” you shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing when in reality it was a huge deal.

Instead of a shocked look, Lily shot you a warm smile that she usually reserved for James, “good for you sweetie. I know that your situation isn’t ideal but don’t let him get away, not without a fight.”

At about half past three Lily checked her watch and gave you a little nod with a sparkle in her emerald eyes and a giddy sort of excitement filled your gut. It was time to get ready for the Ball. Lily kissed James on the lips, “we’d better get ready for the Ball,” she beamed as the both of you stood up.

“And you need three hours to get ready?” Sirius frowned while you and Lily rolled your eyes at each other, he really was hopeless.

“Well, looking good takes time but I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that,” you smirked and Remus choked on a surprised laugh while James gave you a high five and Sirius pulled a tongue at you.

Getting ready with the girls was so much fun, Marlene and Dorcas had managed to sneak in a bottle of pink champagne and the lot of you were drinking out of the bottle, getting a little tipsy. You helped Lily style her soft red hair into an intricate and fiddly up do which made her look like a queen, James was a very lucky guy. In turn she helped you get into your dress and she laced up the back for you.

As you looked at your group of friends you suddenly grew sad and the nerves were finally starting to set in. This was going to be your last Christmas at Hogwarts and you were determined to make it a night to remember. When you all walked into the common room, a few Gryffindor boys that none of you knew all wolf whistled at you in good nature. You all giggled and blew them kisses as you climbed up through the portrait hole and made your way to The Entrance Hall where you’d be meeting your dates.

“What if Sirius never forgives me? What if we can never get past what’s going to happen tonight?” you asked Lily in a shaky voice as you fought the urge to throw up.

Lily laced her warm fingers through yours and gave your hand a comforting squeeze, “he will, I promise Y/N. He cares about you too much to never forgive you, so if I was you I really wouldn’t worry about it.”

You nodded at your best friend’s words as you took a deep breath, hoping that she was right. As you descended the stone steps you smiled as James wistfully gazed at Lily like she was the only girl in the universe. You longed to have a relationship just like theirs one day. Sirius looked so achingly handsome that it hurt with the knowledge that you wouldn’t be attending the Ball together. At his side there was an equally beautiful girl and you tried not to feel bitter resentment towards her.

Remus gave you a small wave while Sirius rushed forward, his lips quirked up into a smile and he gave you a tight hug. You breathed in his scent, he smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood, he ignored the huffs of his date. His cheeks were flaming red as he looked you over and you squirmed beneath his gaze, “you look amazing Y/N!” and for once there wasn’t a teasing tone to his voice, he sounded completely sincere.

You flushed right down to your toes as butterflies exploded into your stomach, fluttering wildly at his words, “thank you! So do you,” you giggled nervously, dreading the moment that was due to come.

“So, where is your date? If he’s late, I’ll kick his arse for you.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary brother,” chewing your lip at the soft voice, you turned your head to look at Regulus.

He looked just as handsome as his brother. He was beaming at you, his grey eyes twinkling in the candlelight as he dragged a hand through his short wavy hair, a flush on his cheeks. Regulus looked you up and down, and it wasn’t in a pervy way but on the other hand, it didn’t make you weak in the knees like it should have, “wow,” Regulus breathed, “you look stunning,” you flushed at his pretty words, not daring to look at Sirius.

“Thank you Reg, you look great too!”

Regulus took your hand and rubbed his thumb against your wrist, smiling when he felt your pulse point jump beneath his fingers, “should we head in? I can’t wait to dance with you,” he smiled cutely and your heart went out to him. He really deserved a girl who was crazy about him.

“Please,” you grinned nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The air surrounding the pair of you had grown heavy and awkward, though you wouldn’t let it ruin your night. You were still hopeful that you could have a good night.

As you strolled towards The Great Hall you chanced a look back, Sirius was glaring at you, you had never seen him that angry before and it was all directed towards you. His face was like thunder but there was hurt in his stormy grey eyes. Your other friends looked shocked while Lily looked sympathetic. Hot tears stung at your eyes and you willed them to go away and your chest felt tight. You didn’t want to make Regulus feel bad, he was too sweet.

A gasp of awe escaped you as you walked into the gold and silver decorated hall, marvelling at the 12 Christmas trees. It was snowing and fluttering multi coloured fairies flew overhead. It was strange but seeing the frost settle around the windows made you feel calm. The room looked like something straight from a beautiful winter’s dream.

“Beautiful right?” Regulus grinned, squeezing your hand gently and you smiled at him. It was the first time that night that you’d sent a true smile his way.

“It’s gorgeous! Come and dance with me Reg!” you giggled as you pulled him to the dance floor, smiling slightly when you heard him let out a breathless and surprised chuckle.

Regulus was a wonderful dancer and there was the prettiest gleam in his eyes as he smiled at you. There should have been a spark – you were beating yourself up because there wasn’t a spark – after all Regulus was handsome, sweet, considerate, and hardworking, the list goes on but you felt nothing. You vaguely wondered what the matter with you was.

Halfway through your dance, Regulus took a shaky breath, “Y/N,” you glanced up, giggling as he twirled you; “can we try and make this work between us? You mean more to me than just my older brother’s friend. I want to mean more you to you too,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it as he waited patiently for your response to his confession.

It was not a decision to be taken lightly, there was certainly no spark that you felt but maybe that was okay. Maybe Regulus would be the safe choice and maybe he wouldn’t break your heart. Whatever happened you certainly didn’t imagine that your last year at Hogwarts would be like this. You could never have a quiet year.

“Reg,” you started and there must have been uncertainty in your voice because his face fell, “we can try,” as you agreed Regulus perked up with a sweet smile and he kissed your cheek.

“Thank you.”

After a couple more dances, Lily pulled you away and you ended up getting drinks with her. James poured some fire whiskey – which he’d smuggled into the Ball in a flask – into your pumpkin juice and winked at you. Remus’ cheeks were rosy and his hazel eyes twinkled, it was obvious that he’d had more than a little to drink. Sirius ignored you blatantly and your heart constricted painfully, you would rather him be angry with you because maybe then he’d be talking to you.

-----------------------------

Sirius heaved a great sigh as he took a swig of fire whiskey from the flask that James had brought with him. Tonight had been a bust. The Great Hall looked stunning but it was torture watching the girl he was falling for in his brother’s arms. He’d resorted to ignoring them both which killed him inside. Everyone was pissing him off tonight including the girl he’d brought with him, Regulus and Y/N.

James patted Sirius’ arm sympathetically, he’d at least had a good night with Lily and Sirius was jealous that James had found someone who truly loved him, “you alright mate? It must have been a difficult night for you.”

Sirius shrugged, “I just feel betrayed, y’know? Like I was just part of some scheme, I thought that Y/N actually liked me,” he laughed it off like he didn’t care, but he did, “I’m gonna get some air,” he didn’t wait for a reply before taking off outside into the cold night.

He sat down on a snowy stone bench that had been nestled among the winter flowers that had been planted especially for tonight. It was strangely peaceful out here and for the first time that night he felt at ease. Sirius wasn’t sure just how long he was out there before he heard the snow crunch behind him but he didn’t bother to turn around.

“I haven’t seen you all night, where have you been?” Y/N giggled nervously and Sirius closed his eyes, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in the back of his throat and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Shouldn’t you be with my brother right now?” he gave a bark of humourless laughter and he heard Y/N sigh.

“Sirius,” she started but he didn’t want to hear any excuses, he just wanted to know one thing from her.

“Why did you kiss me that day Y/N?” he mumbled, blinking the tears out of his eyes, “were you trying to play with my feelings for you? Or were you just using me to get to Regulus this whole time, is that the only reason you’re friends with me?”

“Of course I wasn’t using you; it’s not what you think between me and Regulus! It was just a kiss Sirius; I thought you of all people would understand that! There was no ulterior motive behind it, you were gutted about what happened with James and I just thought that it might make you feel better.”

Hurt swirled in Sirius’ gut at Y/N’s words. It was just a stupid kiss was it? He shouldn’t have expected anything more than that. He’d been a complete fool. Finally, he turned around to look at her, she was beautiful, standing in the deep snow wearing that gold dress that looked like it was made for her. The snow was swirling around her and a couple of snowflakes settled on her eyelashes and in her hair. She had never looked more beautiful.

Her outline grew blurry as the hot tears returned to his eyes but right now he didn’t much care if she saw his tears. It would be good for her to see just how much she’d hurt him, “y’know, its funny. Regulus was always the perfect one, the prodigal son. He got everything that he’d ever wanted but it didn’t care because I had one thing he didn’t have, I had you. And, now he has you too so it doesn’t even matter,” Sirius stood up.

“Pads,” Y/N made to touch his arm as she gave him a pained look.

Sirius jerked his arm out of her reach, he didn’t want to hear it, and it hurt too much. He’d never felt so vulnerable, not even when his mum had kicked him out, “don’t!” his voice broke and he swallowed a whimper, “please,” when Y/N nodded he turned to stalk back into the castle, looking back for a second, “merry Christmas Y/N,” he whispered as a tear slid down his cheek.

When he got back to the castle, his pretty date smiled at him, she looked glad that he was back and right now, he needed any bit of affection he could get, no matter how small. Sirius smiled back at her as he made his way over, he was angry, heartbroken and hurt. He wanted to hurt Y/N just as much as she had hurt him. He wouldn’t even feel sorry about it.

----------------------------- 

@approved-by-dentists​ @thefuturelawyer​ @a-miserable-hufflepunk​ @firelordmillie​ @seriouslysiriuss​ @sleep-i-ness​ @play-morezeppelin​ @pregnant-piggy​ @sleepingalaska​ @smiithys​ @blisfvll​ @rexorangecouny​ @findzelda​ @wangmangagavroche​ @the-moon-and-the-book​ @hxrgreeves​ @ghostofstudentspast​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @my-unique-mind​ @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass​

#sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #pads #padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius fanfiction #sirius fluff #sirius angst #sirius x reader #sirius x reader insert #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #you x sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader insert #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #you x sirius black #reader #reader insert #ben barnes #regulus black #james potter #lily evans #jily #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #the marauders #the marauders era

[fireheartfaery]

Late Nights

Ciara’s attempt at a fanfic! I just got really obsessed with Rowcan and needed to do something about the bubbling in my veins?!?!?! Anyway i hope you enjoy (and this is my first fanfic for this fandom so please go easy on me)

Gretch this one is for you! @queen-of-demons-and-hell​

Lorcan Salvaterre wakes up in a bad mood. But more than that he wakes up alone. His lover had slipped away in the early hours of the morning, judging by the cold space and the distinct lack of clothes strewn across the room.  In his abundant years of life he has seldom woken up by himself and on the mornings he does it's an ache in his ribs. His friends would call it abandonment issues. His friends are dicks.

He glowers at the bathroom mirror, attempting to tame his knotted mop of midnight black hair, and when that doesn't work he throws it up in a twisted knot, the little care he possessed disappearing. By the time he's dressed for the day, his signature scowl is in place and he's third cup of coffee has been downed. He adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, and hooks a blazer over his shoulder. With a final glance around his apartment he's out the door and on his way to work.

The day doesn't much improve, but at the very least he gets to drink the premium coffee.

"Lorcan, my office."

Looking up at his boss, her raven hair swaying in time with her hips, he doesn't bother with a reply instead shoving out from his chair and attempting to school his face into a neutral expression. He had learnt years ago that showing any emotion around Maeve would earn you nothing but trouble.

"Yes Boss," He walks in shutting the door with a quiet click.

She doesn't look up from her laptop, black nails clicking against the keyboard, "I need you to work on the Havilliard Project, and get it done by tomorrow morning. I have to present it to the board at 10 and you know how I feel about not meeting deadlines."

He had a good mind to ask why she didn't do it if she was so worried. Instead he nodded his agreement, "Anything else boss?"

"Call Whitethorn in when you leave."

And with a wave of her hand he was dismissed.

"Boss," He growls, as he shoves past Rowan Whitethorn's desk.

The silver-haired, golden boy doesn't react to his anger, doesn't do anything except get up and disappear behind Maeve's door. Lorcan wants to throw something across the room. It irks him to no end that Whitethorn doesn't do anything. What kind of person doesn't show any emotion besides mild amusement?

The day slowly drags on, sun slipping past his desk and disappearing behind the blackening sky. Perfect, at least something was as dark as his mood. The Havilliard Project, as Maeve so nicely calls it, is a pain in his ass. He doesn't know how he got stuck with it but the entire team has jumped ship, refusing even to help him. So here he is, clock crawling towards six pm and he's only half way done.

He vaguely hears the chorus of goodbyes as his coworkers slowly filter out, probably getting ready for the Thursday night party scene, so many of them frequented, or going home to their families. Elide he knows, is off tomorrow because she's taking the weekend to visit her girlfriend across the country. She stops by his desk briefly and then practically skips away, happiness rolling off her. He's jealous. He's not sure if it's because she gets to leave or it's because she's getting a holiday but he's envious of her. It’s disgusting.

He glances at the desks next to him, noting their emptiness. Gavriel, as meticulous and decorated as ever, on his right, and Rowan, mostly neat but bland as plain bread. He shouldn't talk though, his own desk is devoid of any personality besides a little axe paperweight Aelin got him as a gag gift a few birthdays ago.

Having a ninth cup of coffee is useless, eight is generally where it stops working, but he can't help but need the bitter taste. Besides it's a reason to get up and move. Just get out of the suffocating box for a little while. Minutes later, a steaming coffee in his hand, he settles back into his desk and resolves to finish this before midnight.

Some hours into a presentation, sky littered with stars and the moon gleaming through the floor to ceiling windows, a shuffling from behind him grabs his attention.

"Whitethorn?" He peers at his coworker, confusion blanketing his features, "What are you still doing here?"

"Working."

"Gee thanks," He rolled his eyes, "Thought maybe you were practicing for your mariachi band." He swivels his chair, getting up to dispose of his mug in the sink.

"Shut up Salvaterre."

"Make me Whitethorn," He growls.

And in a split second his back is against the wall and forest green eyes are blazing.

"Wanna try that again?" Rowan breathes, noses brushing against each other.

Lorcan's lips pull up in a smirk, "I said, Make. Me."

The silver-haired male grins, slow and seductive, "You sure about that Salvaterre?"

"Try me Whitethorn."

And then Rowan's lips are on his and it's like fire. Like heat and red and sin. Teeth and tongue and dominance. He groans as he feels a sharp sting on his bottom lip. Rowan takes the opportunity to push into him, hip to hip. He can feel the evidence of their arousal and its almost enough to end him. Hands, big and bruising, roam his body, catching on the contours of his body.

Rowan brushes a thumb across his teeth and then wraps a hand around his throat, pulls back slightly, green eyes sparking, "Next time Salvaterre," He breathes, "It won't be my kiss that shuts you up."

"Can't wait pretty boy." He smiles, letting the devil show.

Pine eyes narrow in warning, "Fucking dick."

Lorcan drags a hand down that lithe body and squeezes his ass, "See you at home babe."

"Don't forget to buy milk, prick."

His boyfriend steps away, silver hair catching on the moonlight but Lorcan pulls him back and crashes their bodies together, "Warm the bed, tonight I want to hear you moan."

And gods, did his name sound delicious falling from grace.

#Rowcan #rowcan fic #late nights #FDS fanfic #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #crack ship #crack ship fic #Ciara attempts to write #throne of glass

[wincore]

heaven, fallen | kim dongyoung

pairing: demon!doyoung x angel!reader

words: 12.3k

genre: angels + demons au, royalty + bodyguard au, some fluff n angst

warnings: mentions of certain...unholy acts (aka mentions of sex)

a/n: wooh this is a sort of experimental fic?? demons and angels are slightly noticeably different from their traditional concepts 

A flash of movement below the stone balcony alerts you and you take a step back. It’s not every day something alive pops up so close to you. The sky is a clear blue with streaks of gold and pink and the air faintly smells of orange blossom honey—it’s not a good day for an intruder to put a damper on your peace. Of course, Doyoung’s standing behind you in warned stance, a frown etched across his face. He soundlessly moves to stand in front you, and you peek out from behind his back, curious. The air is still for a few moments.

You jump when a black cat leaps out. Doyoung, however, relaxes and turns to you.

“A guest for Your Highness?” he says, a ghost of a smile on his face.

The dark coat of the cat stands out against the white marble, and it mewls several times in your direction before carefully making its way over. It’s a tiny thing, the cat, but it does have a loud voice and a lot of things to say.

You smile wide at Doyoung then look at the cat. “I hope so.”

The cat takes quite a while to warm up to you. It does not, however, find it inappropriate to shove its butt against Doyoung’s face, much to his distaste. You huff at him in jealousy several times. It is your castle after all, and the cat should be greeting its host, not the bodyguard. But no matter how hard Doyoung tries to fling the cat off his body, it ends up obstinately stuck to him.

“Maybe it’s your guest, Doyoung,” you sigh dramatically. The cat only gives you attention when you wave about food in front of its face.

“I’m ready to throw it out but I don’t think you’d like that.” His reply is blatant, an annoyed frown on his face.

“You were ready to throw me out half a year ago,” you state, enjoying the irritation flushing across Doyoung’s cheeks. “Didn’t you say I was the most annoying angel you’ve met?”

“Well,” he trains his eyes to the cat, “My soul wasn’t bound half a year ago.”

“So you’re saying you would definitely throw me out of my own palace if not for the contract.”

Doyoung looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Of course not.”

You should’ve expected a lopsided reply from a demon. He has the looks and airs of a prince yet his tongue is sharp, and it only gets sharper with every use. You should’ve suspected his identity when he first walked in so subtle through the castle doors on celebration’s eve, steel gaze and refined manners. It made you revaluate all the stereotypes of little red demons with horns and a tail and a short temper. To be fair, Doyoung is the first demon you’ve ever met. And he’s only partly like what you had expected.

Royalty is never as bad anywhere as it is with angels. Too sheltered, too ignorant. Protect your purity, they always say, your innocence has a price on it.

Apparently, that price attracts demons and the like.

An angel heart is a dear thing. It can be carved out in a myriad of ways—demons would kill for it, especially yours. It can be eaten, sold or even kept as display in a rich demon household to provide for their existence. There’s something about it that makes the most dignified of demons turn into wild, uncouth creatures. Most have been trained to control themselves for widespread fear of the Gods, but even so, angels must be wary.

Demons live off hearts like yours, regardless of what say they have in the matter. The New Gods have tried rectifying it, but even if they can create worlds, they cannot change what is and has always been nature. The fear rooted deep in your blood took a while to come to terms with.

Nevertheless, you’ve whispered countless prayers to never come across a demon.

The first time you saw Doyoung, he was behind bars the colour of gold, made by angels to withhold demons. He didn’t look too displeased, with the way he was sitting lax, almost bored on the chair. The rings he wore indicated status and the glare he sent your way was most certainly demon.

“Ah, you’ve come.” That was all he greeted you with.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you snapped quickly. These were creatures from nightmares, creatures who made nightmares. They’re just as powerful as you, if not more.

He didn’t smile much either. “Since I’m completely under your discretion, how about we strike up a deal?”

You scoffed. “Why would I bother with a deal?”

Doyoung leaned forward in his chair. Even through bars, you felt a strong sense of danger. There was no way he could escape his prison; the lightest of touches against angel-forged metal would burn him irreparably and your prison guards are much more skilled in combat than they appear to be. The demon was trapped and you were his only way out—everything was perfectly clear. And yet, it couldn’t be. There had to be more; details beyond your observation and facts you weren’t accounting for. After all, a demon behind bars could never be so calm without a trick up his sleeve.

“I heard I’m not the only…perpetrator,” he said. “There’s been quite a few breaches to the safety of…Your Highness.”

You grimaced at his tone, not in sync with his uncaring face. So he did know of all the times demons have tried to worm their way into the palace and steal what doesn’t belong to them. After all, it did surprise the hell out of your guards (pun not intended) when a demon in a tux quite literally waltzed in through the palace doors, his fangs noticeable by the time midnight came.

“You see,” he spoke again, voice clear as night, “I’m not like those other demons. I don’t want silly gold trinkets or angel feathers.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Right now, I’d like to be free.” There was a polite smile on his face that you knew was forced. You’ve never expected captured demons to be this straightforward. “Second, I’d like to make a deal with you.”

“A soul contract?!” You took a step back, startled. That really wasn’t very like demons; to put themselves out in the open like that. What’s the point of clever tricks and a silver tongue then? You can’t expect a demon to wager his life.

“My soul, not yours,” Doyoung clarified, speaking as though he’s over at an old friend’s. He still had his eyes trained on you, making you swallow before you speak.

“Just why would you do that, demon?” You’re unsure of this whole ordeal. On one hand, a demon bodyguard has its own advantages. Naturally skilled with strong reflexes and physical superiority, you’d have nothing to worry about. Angels have always had to rely on weaker substitutes; weapons and prayers.

But on the other hand, there are enough stories about striking a deal with the devil that have terrible endings.

“I would know what best to do with my soul,” he snapped. Demons are easy victims of impatience.

“Alright,” you said. There were multiple pairs of eyes on you as soon as you said it. You were going against millennia of advice and yet, you found nothing wrong with it. It was a change if nothing else. And angels do get bored easily.

Even Doyoung seemed taken aback. “Alright…then,” he repeated. “I look forward to working with you… Your Highness.”

Doyoung finally manages to pull the cat apart from him and sets it on the table. You have yet to discover the cause of its extreme affections towards the demon.

“I have no idea what to do with it,” Doyoung huffs.

Right then, the door clicks open and Jaehyun walks in and greets the two of you with a bow. He’s quite the charmer for a butler, polite and stubbornly obedient. As graceful as ever, he turns to you with a smile.

“Prince Taeyong has sent another message, Your Highness, and he’s expecting a reply,” he says, “Thought I’d let you know.”

“Did you have a choice?” you scoff with a smile. You’ll be honest, it should be strange to be away from Taeyong for so long when you had spent every waking moment together as children. Even angels drift apart with time, sadly. No wonder time is a God in itself.

Here you are, in Gods’ own lands but it’s still not paradise.

You wonder if the New Gods care anymore, care for creations that are not their own. Heaven and Hell are fragile things to bored inventors. You are creatures of old, your code programmed to be either good or evil, black or white with subtle quirks. To the New Gods, it’s inevitably obsolete.

You notice Doyoung’s scowl as soon as Jaehyun leaves. He isn’t paying attention to the little cat kneading at his pants, a little lost in thought. You could say Doyoung’s last meeting with Taeyong…didn’t go very well. Dark and light contrast quite a bit in the same room.

“What’s with that Taeyong guy? No angel’s ever had a reputation so large in Hell before,” he muses, the annoyance clear in his voice. “It’s like he’s immune to anger. And he’s too good-looking to exist anyway. What a mistake the Gods made.”

“I can’t tell if you’re jealous or attracted.”

Doyoung twists his mouth and finally turns to the cat at his feet. He picks it up and sets it on the table once more. You laugh to yourself; a demon and a cat make quite the pair.

“You lot are weird,” he says with distaste. “Especially the two of you. ”

You hum. “We’re treated like royalty for a reason. Even if we wish we weren’t.”

Doyoung crinkles his nose. “You’re a rarity among purebloods. You should know you smell different too. Disgustingly pure.”

You’re about to select a book from the shelf when Doyoung speaks up again. “I’ll be leaving.”

You nod. He gives you a short bow and disappears. It’s always like this. You might have part of his soul at your disposal but he’s only around if necessary (that is, in case you face danger). Terribly work-oriented demons are.

The cat finally comes around to you, curious eyes scanning you as you turn a page in your book. The room is just enough to be cosy, the sunlight not too menacing and the shadows pale and resting at the base of walls. The bay windows give you a colourful view—of flowered hills and higher snow-covered mountains. The orange hues of the sunlight play with the two of them as a mediator and the rest of the cloudless sky looks on in amusement. It’s always a perfect day here.

“I wonder how you climbed all the way up,” you hum to the cat, who’s hyper-fixated on a string dangling out of one of the books on the shelf. It’s not long before you return your focus to the book, just to get pulled in.

Ah, it’s a history book, you think to yourself. It’s not surprising; most of the novels in the palace are historical after all, and you’ve finished most of them. You drag your thumb along the side of an illustration before scanning the title. The Trade. The devil sits in a black velvet suit, a slow, smiling air about him like always and a gaze fixed upon the mother angel in white cotton. He swirls the blood wine, dark gloves covering his hands, while the mother angel has her arms out above her head to pull off her halo. The sun shines only on her, the devil’s face imperceptible in the shadows. One trade to mix chaos and law.

The Fallen. The angel no longer looks angelic, but his skin is paled to a greyish hue, lips dry and chapped. There’s a scar on his cheek; you know the burns are from the renunciation of status. He chose humans over his own kind. No wings, no home. Angels break rules but they do not avoid punishment. You felt sorry for him when you first saw the worn out strokes of ink that completed his figure in the book. He was the first to fall to earth, infamous throughout the history of your race. Sometimes angels don’t want to be on either side. He gave up an angel’s tranquillity just for a group of little orphans. Even in breaking rules, it was noble. To be able to face punishment is noble.

You turn to the next segment, annoyed. The Choice. The demon is laughing, dancing a dangerous waltz with the masked human; the angel simply weeps in defeat, clutching her heart. This isn’t just history—it’s quite common in the earth realm, or so you’ve heard. Angels fall in love with humans just as often as humans find themselves attracted to demons. Humans are creatures subject to temptation and an angel’s love is perhaps too…pure to be understood. It’s pitiful, but you don’t blame anyone.

You wish there’d be more books from the world of mortals. They’re all such tender beings, always the favourite of the Gods.

Ever since the emergence of the New Gods, access to the human world has been restricted. You can’t just pop in and out wherever you want—unless you face the consequences. Stripped of feathers and a halo, what is an angel but a mortal? You’ll be ordinary under the sun and moon, no longer glowing with nature. But of course, your kind has never cared for power or hunger; the heart is kindest when it’s full. Hope defines you, optimism encourages you. It’s why the demons find you so silly, so naive. Such children.

How unremarkable of you to want to break rules.

“Another book about humans?” Doyoung’s voice behind you makes you jump. “You angels always loved them far too much. It’s why there’s so less of you now. You do know they’re not quite as nice as you folk, right? It was quite an experience for me while I was there.”

You take a deep breath, composing yourself. You watch Doyoung smile before his lips drop to a serious frown again.

“So you’ve taken to sneaking up on people,” you scowl. “And forgotten your formalities again.”

“Don’t glare at me,” Doyoung says, “It’s not my fault you have awful reflexes, Your Highness. And- you’re not too fond of your title, are you?”

Doyoung knows the answer and you close your mouth, relaxing into your seat. You know he only keeps up the formalities out of innate courtesy (that, and the disapproving looks the palace workers send his way). Maybe it’s not a lie that demons are strict in their habits. He’s surprisingly well-behaved for a demon surrounded by angels.

“So did you have a valid reason to suddenly appear here or did you just want to scare the daylights out of me?”

“As per my job, I need to make sure you’re safe. You get into all sorts of trouble when you’re alone.”

“You talk as though the trouble doesn’t come from your kind.”

“Perhaps if you had better reflexes, you’d be able to avoid them.”

Doyoung takes a seat opposite to you and takes notice of the cat’s absence rather gleefully. He wears nothing other than his dark formal suit, sometimes without the coat, and he contrasts deeply with all the gold and white and amber of your palace. But his face is not out of place, save the exaggerated frowns and glares perhaps; and if Doyoung weren’t a demon, he certainly wouldn’t be an ordinary mortal either.

“Why do you lot hate the humans?” you spill the question.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “We don’t hate them…but we don’t exactly want to…fraternize with them.”

You blush at the word. Angels are known for falling in love with humans quite frequently. That’s why you end up with a lot of half-bloods or ex-angels in the human realm. Jaehyun, for example, had an angel mother. And you, you’re one of the last pureblood lines; as is Taeyong. It brings forth a sort of responsibility you’d otherwise be grateful to be rid of. You’ve known nothing outside this city, outside of your people—humans are a distant dream to you. You wonder if it’s just the angels’ habits of mingling with humans that keeps you chained here.

Ironically, demons are purer when it comes to blood.

“Why do you love them so much, Your Highness?” Doyoung asks, sounding just as curious as you.

“We don’t consider love to have boundaries…I think,” you answer.

“You’re not sure?”

“I’ve never fallen in love to be sure,” you sigh. “Just like you’ve never tried breaking the devil’s laws out of fear.”

Angels cherish freedom but demons obey fear.

“Are you saying you’re not afraid of losing the comfort of paradise?” Doyoung’s eyes are round and inquisitive even if his mouth is pressed into a thin line.

“Have angels ever cared for their own demise?”

“You should.” Doyoung sounds like a stern teacher.  

After a confused pause, you laugh. Doyoung leans back in his chair with an exasperated sigh.

“Is it a characteristic of angels to take things so lightly? What, is dying an art to you?”

“Perhaps,” you say, and laugh to further aggravate him.

Doyoung looks as though he’s holding back certain words, something like ‘you are so fucking annoying’, but you don’t comment further (especially with the glare he sends your way).

You don’t necessarily mean what you say. You’ve never experienced a choice between destroying yourself and love, whatever that might be—you’ve been stuck in a palace high in the Heavens your entire life. But you are aware that angels are known to betray themselves. No matter what rules the Gods—New and Old—set for your kind; it is always broken once, at least. Rules are but fragile things when angels are wounded. (And angels only cry when they hurt others.)

Demons, in contrast, are very practical creatures. They’re rather proud of themselves but they understand cause and consequence quite well; punishment is severe in the depths of hell. They can, however, be quite cheeky. Bend the rules, never break them—that’s an often repeated phrase in the book of demons. Some demons, additionally, abhor doing things not true to their own nature. But even their honesty comes off as acerbic, words dripping with the poison of raw truth.

You stand up, placing your book back in the shelf. Just how far could reading get you in this realm anyway? It’s better to look around your palace and your kingdom, this city of angels. You’re supposed to look after them, even if you’re not sure what you’re doing. You drag your finger along the spine of the book one last time.

“Say, Doyoung, do you not want to steal what the angels guard so dearly?”

“You?”

“Not me, exactly. You know. The sacred whatever. Do you not want to taste an angel heart?”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at you. “Are you trying to provoke me, Your Highness?”

You frown, voice wavering under his gaze. “It’s not like you can do anything.”

It’s sudden, the movement.

Doyoung shifts, his figure rather intimidating when it’s right in front of you, so close. He places one palm against the bookshelf, and you find yourself trapped, unable to look anywhere except at him. It’s not just that though—his eyes gleam the dark red of demons, no whites left, almost as if they’re bleeding, and lashes over them long as ever. It’s a precise shade; textbooks could never recreate it. Not bright, yet not completely fallen into darkness. The dark lines drag across his cheeks vertically from under his eyes. A demon must never be allowed to achieve their true form completely. That form angels fear isn’t a caricature with horns and a tail—it’s something resonant with deepened horror, the fright you feel when you’re no longer in control of your mind. This semi-form only gives you an idea.

“Tell me, are you afraid of me now?”

After a sharp intake of breath, you find yourself unable to respond. Demons get either ruthless or playful when they have a hold of you. You can’t, however, recall any knowledge to help you at this moment. Your eyes widen and you shrink into yourself. Fear. The awful emotion blossoms in your chest like a weed that can’t be pulled out.

“Look at me.” There’s a low growl in his voice, distinctly melodic making sure the fright doesn’t fade. This melody belongs only to demons.

Demons know fear. They know what it feels like, the extreme of it, and they know how to use it against the helpless. He’s just trying to scare you like all demons do when their pride is on the line. You know that and yet, it’s working.

“Don’t- Don’t come any- Come any closer and—”

“And what, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” Your breathing gets quicker. It’s difficult to think straight.

“Would you rather I call you by your name then, angel?”

The slow roll of your name on his tongue sets forth an unknown feeling in you. It burns as though you’ve never felt burning, like your castle is of ice.

You decide to shake it off with as much will as you can muster.

“Stop.” Your command comes out a little weak but steady.

Doyoung immediately takes a step back with a scoff, demeanour only softened so much. “See, Your Highness? It’s best not to feel too safe around a demon.”

Ah, Doyoung loves to remind you of angels and demons and the differences; that demons are cruel. Be afraid, he wants to tell you. You breathe in and out. “That’s a little ironic. Considering you’re my bodyguard.”

Doyoung chuckles and looks away, and you find yourself in awe of him. A demon smiling—no, Doyoung smiling is as sweet as it is rare. You were starting to think you were some sort of cruel prison guard with how miserable he looks sometimes. (It could just be the way demons look but you can’t be sure.) But of course, only angels have sympathy for demons.

“Yes, and since I’m only your bodyguard, I would appreciate you not calling me in the middle of the night to fetch you things.” Doyoung crosses his arms.

You let out a bout of laughter. Doyoung, on the other hand, furrows his brows with annoyance.

“Or water your plants for you. Or serve as an alarm clock. Or get you more unhealthy snacks. Frankly, I feel abused. And do you have any idea how awful those snacks are? What sort of angel makes something like that?”

It’s easy to listen to Doyoung, even if he’s just complaining, and you smile. Maybe you’ve started to enjoy his presence. Angels are what they are—lively and kind, but also ever-changing. Doyoung’s a steady you probably never expected to have. It’s comforting, if not anything else.

But you’ve discovered that both angels and demons are true to their heart—whether it’s the flighty heart of an angel or the unflinching one of a demon.

You wake up in the middle of the night thrice in a row. Breathe, you try to tell yourself but it gets difficult with each second dripping away agonizingly slow. All you can see are a gleaming pair of red eyes and hands burning into your neck. Angels are not spared from nightmares.

“Your Highness?”

You take a sharp intake of breath, jerking to the side only for your shoulder to hit the headboard. Your heart has leaped to your throat, blocking any air that might come through.

“You should take to using doors. They’re quite easy, really.”

“I thought something might have happened.” Doyoung looks well blended with the darkness of the night. Who’s pulled the curtains? Neither the moon nor the stars have been welcomed to your room. The golden vines curling around your bed dimly reflect the candlelight that Doyoung holds, the veins and fine lines of his hands and the numerous rings, perfectly illuminated.

“I’m fine,” you croak. Your cringe at how awful your voice sounds and clear your throat. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

Doyoung steps forward, his lips pulled into a frown yet again. It’s not like you’ll tell him that he has, in fact, managed to worm his way into your nightmares. The first time since he’s arrived, he’s terrified you and that too with a childish tactic. Demons like to play, get to your head. He observes you quietly, making you more conscious than usual.

“You don’t have to stay here,” you tell Doyoung.

Yet another sigh leaves Doyoung’s lips. “You angels might not have any regard for rules, but they’re very important to my kind.”  

“You’re really nice for a demon,” you consider. Your lips curl into a small smile.

“Giving your bread to the poor is nice,” he snaps. “Fulfilling the terms of a contract isn’t.”

The two of you maintain an empty silence for a couple of heartbeats before you allow Doyoung to sit in the armchair by the bed. He says nothing more (is it possible for a demon to be exhausted?) and rests his head on his palm. His lips are soft and relaxed, eyes the shape of almonds, daringly lovable—it should be sin for him to look like a heavenly creature when he’s committed such dark crimes. Of course, saints and sinners are a concept for humans to judge. You’re from different realms, opposites; there’s no choice in what you are. The sympathy you feel is not out of the ordinary.

“If I released your soul fragment—terminate the contract, would you be happy? You could go home.”

Doyoung hesitates.

“I don’t have a home,” he responds before falling silent. “You can’t terminate a soul contract. The Gods bore witness to the signing.”

You hum in displeasure but ponder nonetheless. “What happens if you breach a soul contract?”

Doyoung tilts his head, a short sign of struggle across his pursed lips. You never get answers to questions like these. The darker sorts of acts and abilities aren’t exactly explained in detail in angels’ libraries. There are only names you must avoid. You clutch the pale golden blankets to drag them off your body. The temperature seems to have shot up. You move closer to the edge of the bed.

“Gruesome details spared, I’d turn to cosmic ash.” Doyoung stares at his hands, no particular expression on his face. If you dared though, you’d say he looks uncomfortable.

You keep quiet for a few seconds. Terms and conditions can be sneaky with their words.

“Why did you suggest the contract?” you ask, some abandoned dread flickering in you. It’s not unlikely that you’re just a means to an end.

Doyoung keeps his silence, electing to rest his gaze anywhere but at you. There’s a faltering sense of emotion in him, you can’t quite tell. After all, demons are the hardest to read. A little drop of fear trickles down your throat.

“Why did you want the contract?” you ask again, louder. The seconds drip slowly.

Doyoung stands up with a scowl at your repetition, the candle blowing out. Great, he’s angry again. Demons are quite childish, considering how they accuse you of the same.

“Don’t ask me questions, angel.”

You freeze as you notice the demon’s red spread in his eyes. You are aware that angels have a habit of harping on about things till it drives people a little crazy; the mercy on his face has waned. You might have hit a nerve. Is this going to be your nightmare again? Are you going to feel the blood in your throat, feel your chest bleed onto your bed sheets? Is he going to wrap his long fingers around your throat, rip out your heart like you expect him to—like you expect creatures like him to? Demons are toxic beings, they’re meant to be evil. You might have been unwise to lower your guard.

“I could kill you right now,” Doyoung says, no humour in his tone. “I could claw out your heart and take it back with me as yet another trophy to mark my status.”

Angels are warm in touch but demons burn. When Doyoung presses his fingers—claws—against your neck, although lightly, you feel the searing touch of embers and instinctively hold your breath. He might leave some blisters for good. There’s a sense of lost time in him, something that burns slow, but even. Did he want you to beg for him to stop, bow to him as a demon? Dignity means more to angels than he might think.

The few silent moments sear the air in your lungs.

“Isn’t that a breach of contract?” you choke out the words, reason making its way back to you.

Doyoung frowns and he resumes his normal form. “Yes. Thankfully.”

Demons are loyal creatures. It’d be of no surprise if he’s still tied to the devil, to the dwellings of evil and misery—whatever the books said. Yet if you look closer, these are only the habits of a demon who no longer quite remembers the horrors of Hell.

“You don’t want to go back?” you whisper, bracing yourself for another outburst.

“No. I don’t.”

Honesty.

Doyoung retreats his hand. He keeps up a strange front, as though he didn’t just threaten to take your life.

“So you broke the rules? As a demon?” You sit up straighter, a bit more confident than earlier. At the very least you trust in a demon’s sense of self-preservation. He won’t harm you as long as the contract exists.

“Not quite,” Doyoung hums. He’s almost smiling to himself, an unclear satisfaction in his voice.

Your eyes widen as you realize. “The soul contract!”

“Yes,” he sighs, sounding uninterested in your suddenly acquired awareness. “Far more sacred than demons’ code.”

You shift on the bed for your back to press against the headboard and bring your knees to your chest. You don’t press further with the questions.

It must be difficult for a demon to betray routine. The core of demons lies in rules and routine—they have fear fuelling their survival. You wonder what it must like be for him to live without most of those.

Angels find torment in those exact same things; they value freedom and cause. Although, that doesn’t mean they play by the rules to honour those. Guardian angels fall in love with the ones they’re protecting, higher angels bare their teeth at thieving demons despite the code of conduct and even the purest of your kind shed their feathers to protect someone they love. They can’t work by rules, even those that are made for them. How unremarkable of you to want to break rules.

“Do you hate me? For what I am?” you ask Doyoung. It sounds painfully innocent, even you are aware, but the question pries out of your mouth. You change your question, your voice coming out in a softer tone. “Do you think we could be friends?”

Doyoung furrows his eyebrows. “You ask too many questions.”

You could be employer and employee, a strange definition of friends or even just two people stringed together by some holy contract—it doesn’t really matter. In the end, angels are angels and demons are demons.

Two nights later, you cough up blood. It’s not the red of demon eyes but a far more alarming tint of the exact same. Angels’ blood is rich in colour, a shade of red almost blinding to those caught unaware and the specks of gold only add to the unnecessary shine. Doyoung looks almost as pale as you when he finds you on the floor of your bedchamber, the shade of life and death erratically sprayed across your hands and bedtable. After all, he says, he’s supposed to protect you, he was supposed to come earlier, he should have sensed something. (‘It’s okay,’ you reassure him. ‘It’s not like that. This is not how rules work,’ he responds with a hard stare.)

It’s a strange infection for the likes of angels but not unheard of. When you think you’re almost glad you’re sick, you feel a sliver of guilt for the first time in your life. Perhaps an infection would rid you of this curse of purity. You voice it to Doyoung when the thought gets too heavy to keep to yourself; and he reassures you that it’s the disease talking, that you’re fine. What a strange thing for a demon to do.

You’ve never thought these emotions to be strong enough before. Fear. It’s a very concerning emotion. Angels aren’t supposed to be afraid.

“You talk as though you’ve suffered a great tragedy,” Doyoung scoffs.

“Haven’t I? I got a nosebleed and I must say I’m quite fond of my nose,” you state with an exaggerated wave of your hand.

“How awful, truly.” Doyoung shakes his head.

It takes you a day and a half to be back on your feet.

You’ve also taken to afternoon walks in the whisks of some inevitable urge. You prefer casting aside your obnoxious label of royalty; to truly enjoy, you must leave your burdens elsewhere. Doyoung isn’t too happy about it.

“Do you have to?” Doyoung chides, “Demons might not be fooling about in a city of angels, but there aren’t any marble walls here to keep them away either.”

You take a smiling lead into the dainty shops and exhibitions. “Maybe the marble walls will distract them.”

“They’re not stupid, you know?” Doyoung ducks to avoid a glowing garland. “They can smell you. Your purity or sanctity—whatever the hell you reek of. Higher demons know the difference between the old, halves and royalty.”

Doyoung stands outside, stubbornly refusing step in. You can barely hear him over the sound of ocean blossoms, rare flowers said to cure homesickness that are always singing. The Gods give the best of their creations to angels for safekeeping. There’s star syrup for existential dread, cloud extract for dehydration, Child’s Smile for momentary happiness—there’s so much around. You wonder if this is what would make humans happy—a cure for everything.

You turn your head to find Doyoung staring at a bottle with lips pursed. The bottle itself is the colour of plum, the contents hidden. You take a step closer to read the label.

Deep Space. Peace for a brief stretch of time.

“Are you tired?” you ask Doyoung, hesitantly. He turns to you with a start.

“Of you. Sometimes,” Doyoung responds without missing a beat, “All the time, actually.”

You laugh at the shake of his head, the sound as loud as the ocean blossoms. The shopkeeper walks in just then, skin dark as night and a smile as comforting as the moon. You’ve always loved coming to her shop. Despite all genres of medicine, the atmosphere is dominated by harmony. (There’s a strange irony in the words, you realize.)

“Oh my! How have you been, darling?” she greets you. “Would you like to taste fire nectar? The New Gods made it a while ago as a cure for lethargy.”

“I think we should save them lest the guardians run into a shortage,” you shake your head.

She nods in agreement. She was once a guardian angel too, keeping her human away from darkness with all sorts of cures. Never in excess, though, for it ruins the human balance—that’s what she told you on being good at her job, not that you’d ever get it. Angels like you are only a target—hearts too vulnerable and unreliable. You’re meant to kept peace in Gods’ lands for you know nothing outside of it.

“Is that a new friend…or a palace worker maybe…?” She turns to Doyoung, who stiffens under her gaze.

It’s an unfair disadvantage for angels to never be able to tell apart a demon. Perhaps, it’s to ensure equal treatment for all or whatever else the Old Gods had in mind. For an angel, anything with two eyes and a beating heart deserves sympathy.

“Both, hopefully,” you smile with your response.

It doesn’t take you long to reach the end of the city paths after exiting the shop. The flowered hills are much larger than before, the mountains only offering a shallow glimpse at their snow-tops. The trees sport all the hues of the rainbow, forming a lovely forest barrier between the place you stand in and the sleeping hills. It is quite lovely in paradise, if you so call it.

Doyoung sulks beside you, careful enough to not kick a rock out of frustration. “You are a real pain in the—”

“Hey,” you warn. “You don’t like the view here?”

“I’d rather be sleeping.”

You press on, getting up to stand on a nearby stone bench. “But weren’t you curious as to what a city of angels looks like?”

“I’ve seen enough,” he responds, voice low.

You realize the dreadful possibility that he might have had a hand in murdering other angels of pure or royal blood.

Even the sky is ever-changing in the land of angels. It brings about a nice wind but you prefer warmth. The scenery is perfect, all the colours in place and light resting where it belongs. But there’s still something missing, something key to your moments with Doyoung. The silence is deafening.

“We’re not really angels, are we?” you muse aloud. “We do whatever our heart pleases. What has that to do with kindness? Or peace?”

“You do whatever your heart pleases, yes,” he nods in uncaring agreement. “But your heart wants kindness and peace. I’ve told you, you lot are strange.”

“We aren’t always saints. Are we?” You’ve always wondered if all angels do the right thing.

“The Gods made sure to make you perfect,” Doyoung‘s voice is slow and reassuring. “Your instincts are built to cater to goodness. You’ve heard all of this before. And you’re asking a demon whether angels make mistakes?”

“Wasn’t the Devil an angel once?” It’s a famous story here, in fact. You shift closer, eager to know its origin.

“Gods’ creation, yes. Not sure about the angel part.” Doyoung purses his lips. You must be some sort of child in his eyes—constant questions and a need for reassurance. Easy to destroy.

“I think you’re good enough, angel,” he adds quietly.

The breeze caresses Doyoung’s cheeks, turning them a rosy hue and plays with his hair, tussling it in occasional gusts. He looks almost peaceful; for a demon, you wonder what it’s like to be free of Hell. His jaw isn’t clenched and neither is he furrowing his brows to glare at something in the distance. You decide you like this look on him as you turn to gaze at the city ahead.

When you look at him again, he’s smiling at you. It’s only your duty as an angel to reciprocate it.

There are things that hurt and things that only carry the echo of pain.

Your back bleeds onto the floor, a searing pain where your wings should be. It’s the first time Doyoung sees them, albeit covered in blood. You’re almost ashamed of them, now damp with flawless red, feathers plucked off on the floor. The purest white yet helpless, useless in danger. They’re only ever for show, just the way a demon’s horns and tail stand for jokes.

Doyoung carries you to the medic’s chambers and sits beside you, absentmindedly chewing on his finger till you stop writhing in pain. Now, this is concerning.

“Shall I inform Prince Taeyong?” Jaehyun asks. You can see that he’s afraid. After all, the human in him is easier to read.

“No,” you answer, making sure you get across the importance of your decision. Notifying Taeyong would be a terrible decision; he’d worry himself sick and one sick angel is better than two.

It’s quite often that you find yourself alone with Doyoung, especially after being advised to rest. Sometimes you forget he’s your demon bodyguard and not a housemaid with the way he keeps idly organizing things around you. He’s quite careless, untidy even when it comes to his own bedchamber and belongings. You wonder if he ever does anything but sleep in there.

Doyoung seems to be dozing off in his chair, head resting on his hand. You’ve never seen him sleep before; he always disappears with an irritated poof! when he gets tired. You feel sorry for him—maybe if he hadn’t signed the soul contract… You shake your head. He’s a demon after all, pureblooded and not any less wise than you are. You think you should start seeing him as an honest equal.

“You’re awake?” Doyoung asks, capturing your attention. His hair is messy and his face is splotched with red on one side.

You nod. The air smells wonderfully of chamomile, light and wispy. You think you’ll be getting better today.

“Doyoung,” you call, “Can you sing?”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “You heard me.”

You turn your head to grin at him. “Not to stroke your ego, but it was nice. Soothing for a patient. Tell me, do your eyebrows always move like that?”

Doyoung sinks back into the chair with a huff even though he’s smiling. “Do you have to be like this?”

He smiles quite a lot more than in the beginning. You can see the side of his jaw and his Adam’s apple as he turns his head. Pink lips and a dark mop of hair; you think it’s a good combination. His smile stands out to you, wide and sweet with laugh lines you want to trace. He’s quite nicely made, you think, and his features are handsome. You shake yourself again. These aren’t thoughts appropriate of royalty, of angels. And you experience dread too, in being something you are not.

You look away, trying to distract yourself from the crawling warmth across your cheeks.

Of course, you do recover well even if your wings are left a little sore. Still the same blinding shade of white, Doyoung stares in awe when you spread them. This form is a little exhausting but profound in the effect it has on others. Almost as if gazing at an angel could cure your vices.

You’re as warm as ever but the kingdom seems to have grown cold. Everyone goes about their business merrily yet you find yourself shivering every morning. Either the New Gods are brewing trouble for you or you really are sick. It makes you uneasy either way.

Your city is lovely and to appreciate its grandeur from a distance is much different from admiring it from the inside. You sit at the pavilion atop the hill overlooking the city and opposite to the palace, with Doyoung looking around with curious eyes. He hasn’t been here before, you realize.

This structure isn’t as grand but it is cosy with short pillars and a canopy top. You look ahead. Your palace is iridescent in the afternoon, the tops kissing the skies and caressing cotton clouds. You look up to see the highest tower, yours, peeking through a wave of clouds. The trees curl their branches around the base, almost protective. The little white and pastel houses of the city look docile, small places for the descendants of your kind, and they give you a sense of comfort. You sigh, frowning.

There are ruins atop the adjacent hill, the bricks fallen apart in a pretty pile. The red and yellow trees embrace the old brick structure all around it, the grass refreshingly colourful. Even destruction pretends to be art here, to be made something of. You remember the confusion and panic when the old archway had crumbled apart, just as the New Gods had expanded the city. You were only an adolescent yet you had found words to explain, to help your people. You’ve been told you’re good at controlling your emotions to help others. You’ve been told you’re good.

Doyoung sets your skin ablaze with just a lingering touch on the shoulder.  

“Let’s go, Your Highness,” he says, unaware of the sudden reactions he’s set in you. The longing in you is so wrong.

Certain fruits are forbidden in the land of angels.

This third sickness is of an entirely different kind, you think. You stare at Doyoung’s lips too long and too frequent. You sigh in his absence and his touches burn hot. You can’t even try to deny how attractive he is, how calming yet provocative his words are. Every time he looks at you, each gaze might as well have him with his hands around your throat. How you’d love to brush your mouth against those pretty lips of his, how you’d love to wrap your arms around his waist and run them against his back. It’s not natural, not right—but you’re wanting and waiting for something that can’t happen. This infection, it’s the most dangerous one.

“Taeyong!” you greet happily. His hair is as pale as moonlight and his smile hasn’t changed since you were children.

You wrap your arms around Taeyong, his scent still of strawberries. Ah, you’ve missed the warmth of familiarity that clings to Taeyong. There are hues of amber in his eyes, his skin glowing under the natural light. As two of the last pureblood angels, it brought you closer and only the responsibility of your kingdoms kept you separated. It’s a shame you’ve been so busy in your own cities, trying to make sense of the New Gods, a change of nature, everything. Maybe the Gods want to play, but you’d never know.

“It’s good to be here again,” Taeyong says and you smile back, but your eyes trail to Doyoung at the corner of the room. His eyes are focused elsewhere but you can see that his arms are crossed and his lips are shut tight.

Taeyong turns to look and you immediately grab his face before he sees Doyoung. The sudden embarrassment climbs up and you’re willing to do anything to avoid getting caught.

“Let’s go to the garden!” you suggest a little too enthusiastically. “You’re going to love the new puppies!”

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows, clearly suspicious but follows suit. You hope you aren’t being too obvious—this isn’t a childish crush you’re afraid of exposing; there are consequences when an angel falls in love with a demon.

Doyoung sits down beside you on the garden bench. It’s underwhelming to call it a garden, really, when you should be calling it an arboretum or anything of the grander scale. It’s beautiful—the flowers bloom as a performance and the trees whisper nurturing words. The water in the fountains is deep blue with ribbons of sunlight floating in them, the birds and fishes enjoying it in their own ways. You might as well get lost in a lovely dream along these paths, walking with no end for as long as you’d like. Taeyong crouches down at the side of the path, laughing as one of the pups of the royal dogs tries to bite his nose off.

“I’m telling you,” Doyoung leans to make himself audible. “He’s going to be apologizing to the pups if one of them bites his finger off.”

You laugh. “Maybe he’s more angelic than all of us.”

“He is. I can smell it,” Doyoung sneers. “You come a close second, though.”

There’s a moment’s pause before Doyoung flinches, and you look down to spot a small rabbit on his lap. Animals have a strange liking for demons, you think with jealous disappointment. Or maybe it’s just Doyoung. After all, you can’t say you’re not a little more than fond of him too.

“I don’t know what to do with this thing,” Doyoung informs you, eyebrows furrowed into a nervous look.

“What- you don’t have demon rabbits or something in Hell?” you scoff.

“No.”

“Are you serious?” Your face turns to incredulity. “You don’t have rabbits in Hell?”

“We don’t have any animals in hell. Except the, uh, hellhounds.”

“Sounds miserable. Are you aware that this bunny is your long lost twin brother, sir?”

Doyoung makes a sound of disapproval, carefully picking the rabbit up and placing it on the ground. You laugh at more jokes you make yourself and Doyoung pretends he can’t hear you.

Dinner with Taeyong on your right and Doyoung on your left is nothing short of awkward. To put it blatantly, one is your loving childhood friend who happens to be one of the purest angels and one is a demon who has successfully managed to steal your heart—and the rest of the members of the palace are there to bear witness to your every slip-up. There’s not a lot of talking, only the soft thrums of the oblivious musicians’ instruments. The lights enclosed in a thousand dazzling crystals don’t do much to lighten up your mood even if the room is brimming with a warm, amber light. There’s plenty of food but never in excess, and the windows lining the sides invite onlooking stars. The splendour of an angel’s palace is of no meaning without its residents.

Taeyong’s attempts at a conversation somehow blooms for the better as the palace members join in. Soon, everyone seems to be over the initial awkwardness, filling the room with reminiscent laughter and stories. The sound most precious of all.

Doyoung, however, is surprisingly quiet. He’d usually start the dinner with his provoking demon tongue or talk of old songs and books on the better days. But he’s far too quiet, and it drives you over the edge. You nudge him with your knee.

“Are you alright?” you whisper.

Doyoung furrows his brows. “Perfectly alright. Why?”

You press your lips together. He is most certainly not alright, but you’re a little out of words to continue. Unsurprisingly, Doyoung vanishes into thin air, excusing himself politely as soon as he can. Your appetite was barely enough, to begin with, but now it’s completely lost.

Dinner is over after an excruciating hour and a half. It’s difficult to avoid chatty angels, and you suddenly realize why Doyoung hates hanging around for too long. You make your way to your balcony trying not to be too obvious and are relieved yet afraid to find Doyoung there. Your room emits the barest of warm candlelight through the glass windows, and it dims the closer you get to his stagnant figure. The night sky is clear, stars blinking lazily as they gaze down upon your realm.

You pause before you ask again this night, “Are you alright?”

Doyoung responds with silence, leaning against the balcony railings. He’s wearing a loose black shirt for a change, and the parting of his hair has been mussed up by the wind. His fingers are long and elegant and the way they rest against the railing is nothing short of beautiful. Demons can be deceitful, but there’s no treachery to him tonight.

The night breeze caresses your form and you shiver again. You find yourself a little hypnotized when you look at Doyoung’s face under the moonlight. There’s not a single flaw you can point out in the demon and it’s quite frightening.

“Doyoung?” you call again, your voice meek.

Your heart hammers in your chest when you find Doyoung’s mouth twisted into a grim frown, his silence heavy. His eyes are on the verge of red and he exudes some sort of dark energy you can’t quite fathom.

“Are you really not afraid of me, angel? Of a demon?” he asks, his voice quiet but heavy.

Doyoung cages you against the balcony railing. Heat claws at your throat and you wonder what—why he’s doing this. The other times have been a reminder of who he is—but now, he looks closer to a demon than ever, almost genuine and you’re having a hard time coming up with the right words.

“Doyoung. Now’s not the time for games. I—”

“My soul is in your hands. This is not a game. And neither am I.”

Doyoung gingerly presses his hand against your face as if he’s holding a paper crane. Even in this half form, he’s unbearably handsome, his jaw stiff as he stares at you.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers. “Please tell me to stop.”

He starts to move his hand away but you softly take hold of it, pressing it back against your cheek. If this is your undoing, you might as well relax into it.

“You angels really are unafraid, aren’t you?” Doyoung muses. He’s quite right. You have a demon gleaming, almost upset in front of you, caressing you with hands that might have blood, your blood, on them.

It’s alright, though. The confusion inside you calms the closer you are to Doyoung, your frostbite fading. There’s a soothing to his fingertips.

Doyoung’s voice is harsh, the usual reminder coming up again. “I could hurt you, claw the purity out of your heart, I could flay your wings till you were as godless as I am—would you still be unafraid? Would you still believe in me? Don’t tell me you’re this gullible, angel.”

You’ve heard of demons tricking angels to pull out their hearts before. There’s quite a price on the purest of hearts.  

Even so, Doyoung doesn’t scare you. His words are just that—words, threats to provoke fear, never meant to be carried out. For even in the demon, there’s something pure and unheard of. He likes to scare you because he’s afraid too. Your observation was sudden in the beginning, but now you have feelings inappropriate for an angel to have towards a demon.

“Is that why you came here? To rip out my heart? Rise up the ranks?”

“Initially, I might have. If I didn’t have other things to worry about.” Doyoung’s gaze is intense and unwavering. “I couldn’t hurt you now. Not ever.”

“The contract?”

“No.”

Doyoung cups your face as he leans in. He smells vaguely of dark chocolate and wine, although you’re sure he doesn’t care for angels’ desserts.

“You’ve done a strange thing to me, angel.”

Doyoung’s breath is scorching over your lips but you don’t regret letting him press his mouth against yours. It starts off innocent enough, the shyness of your first kiss leading till Doyoung clutches your waist to pull you closer and you lose hold of yourself. He parts your lips with utmost piety and the sweet sensation brought by his tongue spreads throughout. He intends to be slow, making you feel every swipe of his tongue and every press of his fingers. In this moment, you can’t deny his nature and yours—a demon and an angel under a sky made by careless Gods. And yet, nothing exists apart from you and him.

Doyoung pulls you inside, his mouth still on yours and a new feeling shooting through your nerves. The shuddering of breath that comes from him makes your heart flutter and you tug at his shirt, pulling him closer. You move your fingertips to his neck and eventually wound them in his hair, the taste of stars stuck on your mouth. He looks partly dazed, partly euphoric when he pulls away and a short laugh passes through him before he kisses you again, deeper and deeper with each passing moment. His voice is hoarse by the time he speaks again.

“You know there are consequences to this, right?”

“Do you?”

His forehead lowers to press against yours. “I can’t really give a fuck.”

He presses a swift kiss to your lips and you smile against it. He can be absurdly gentle for a demon. But then you remember the searing touch of his mouth and his fingers against your skin, and your face blossoms with red again.

Doyoung kisses your jaw before moving to your neck, leaving a slightly wet trail; demons have quite a tendency to leave marks, possessive warnings. You’ve never felt love so burning and raw; every time he pushes against you so sweet, his mouth nearly innocent with the words he uses for you. He takes his time to make you feel good and you can taste the honey liquor of Heavens with each passing moment, every move of his. Desire is such a base thing and yet you feel waves of it, the blush across your skin glowing. Angels really do betray themselves easily.

“I love you,” Doyoung promises against your mouth before the line between right and wrong fades to a blur.

You wake up with a start. Was that a dream? You try moving and stretching but there’s an aching throughout your body you can’t account for. The morning drizzle outside your window can only do so much to soothe your discomfort. You’re sleepy despite the first rays of the sun already gracing your presence through the mild rain. Your head’s a little haywire from the detailed pictures and sounds in your head. You blush. Did you really dream something so outrageous?

“You’re awake.”

You jump at Doyoung’s voice, at a loss for words to greet him. There’s an unusual sprinkle of pink across his cheeks, and you realize with bittersweet certainty that last night wasn’t a dream. He doesn’t meet your eyes at first and when he does, he’s almost shy with halting hand gestures. You’ve gone and made a demon flustered. You giggle when he tries to get to what he’s saying.

“I think,” he begins, voice rather quiet, “I think perhaps we…we should talk some things out.”

Doyoung sits beside you, looking at his hands. You want to place yours in them, remembering the warmth. He stares at you unblinking when his eyes trail to your neck and he turns away with a cough.

“Habits don’t go away easy, I suppose,” he mutters.

You brush your fingertips against your neck to feel the uneven skin that’s been marked. Demons have special bites for their lovers. Your cheeks grow so hot, you’re afraid you’ll need to get to the balcony to take a cool breath.

“I…I’m sorry if I…if I… Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No- just a bit- I think it was a little- quite sudden. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen last night- Gods, that sounds strange. Not like that. What I mean is—”

Doyoung laughs. “You’re an idiot, angel.”

Demons are hard to read, but Doyoung doesn’t have to tell you what he’s feeling these days.

“I’m afraid,” he says after a long pause. “I’m afraid of hurting you. I can be careless with my words…my lips and hands—”

You blush.

“—and I don’t know which rules I’m breaking, but…I want to forget about angels and demons for a while.”

You nod and move closer. Doyoung’s warmth is inviting and you place your head against his shoulder without any second thought. He straightens, startled by your sudden movement but he relaxes soon, his arms wrapping around you. You tilt your head to see him smiling at you, his eyes shining with light akin to the Heavens. Perhaps you’ve loved him since before the realization buried you under its weight.

This is wrong.

You gulp down the voice in your head. A wave of panic rushes through you and your smile wavers. For the first time in your life, you don’t know the difference between good and bad.

The question from Doyoung comes in almost expected.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s too good at reading you, even without the contract. If only you could answer honestly, as an angel should.

Your eyes meet Doyoung’s and you lean in. Soon enough, there’s a comforting press of his lips against yours and although short, it lessens the loud beating of your heart. Doyoung looks you up and down, brows knit together and mouth pressed into a thin line.

“If there’s an emotion I know best,” Doyoung begins, “Then it’s fear.”

You don’t respond. You can’t quite think straight at the moment.

“You’re afraid this is wrong.”

“This isn’t wrong,” you respond quickly.

“They’ll take away your wings,” Doyoung reminds you. “They’ll hurt you.”

“They’ll hurt you too and yet you’re here. I’m not the one afraid of losing my wings.”

Doyoung smiles, amused. “Did you know I was the highest-ranking demon in my state? Perhaps one of the highest of our kind, too.”

“I didn’t,” you answer. “I’m- I’m not sure if you’re showing off.”

“I can show off if I want to—I earned it,” Doyoung huffs. “That wasn’t the point. The point is—you should do whatever the hell you want if I’m doing whatever the hell I want as a god-fearing demon.”

You give him a small smile. The way he’s so comforting isn’t what you’d expect of a demon—it’s kind. How unremarkable of you to want to break rules. But how willing you are to do so.

“Can’t a high ranking demon have everything he wants?”

“No. The rulebook just keeps getting longer.”

Doyoung sighs. There’s weariness across his features. “I hate rules. I hate routine. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize.”

You giggle. “I might have misjudged you. You seemed so strict. Like a grumbling soldier.”

Doyoung huffs. “You’re a poor judge of character for an angel.”

He reaches out to comb through your hair, the smallest of smiles playing on his lips. You wish he’d come closer.

“Can I tell you something? Just between you and me,” you whisper as you lean in.

Doyoung leans in at your hand gesture, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. You place a sudden kiss against his cheek, pulling away just in time to see the red rush into his ears. He slips into rather flustered laughter soon enough.

“Flirting with a demon now?”

“I’ve been doing that for a long time now—just wish you’d noticed earlier.”

That earns another bout of laughter from Doyoung, making your chest swell with unspeakable love. He looks at you with love, something you’re sure demons aren’t allowed a peek at. Don’t the Gods dare take this away from you; it’s precious. You’re tired of this game of choices, rules that exist only to insinuate guilt and fear. This realm won’t die without you, neither will you be able to do anything truly dutiful in your castle of glass.

Doyoung puts his hands on either side of the bed by your waist to engulf you in another warm kiss, smiling against your lips.

“I want to keep doing this,” he murmurs, “Even if we have to hide from the Gods themselves.”

This is wrong.

The voice in your head warns and you press down your guilt. If only for a little while, you could keep this up.

Demon blood isn’t red, you come to know.

Your heart can only struggle in the chaos set by Doyoung’s resting figure in front of you. The black liquid staining Doyoung’s only white shirt is his blood, you realize with a weak noise. You’ve never seen a colour so dark. He breathes slowly, eyes closed in what seems a peaceful slumber.

Taeyong beside you is frantic. “We were talking, and then- and then he just- he just collapsed! And I don’t- I don’t understand how to save him- I don’t understand why he’s bleeding when no one hurt him.” He takes a breath to calm down.

There are repercussions when an angel and a demon fall in love. The two change for the other, a change nature can’t permit. (She is also a child of the Gods and she’s almost more firm in her laws than them.)

Demons don’t fall sick easily. You’re there when Doyoung opens his eyes and he jolts up as though he wasn’t hurt in the first place. You can see the clawing of good and evil him, his eyes a little wild before they settle back to the calm. Nature isn’t supposed to bend like this.

“Ah,” he realizes as he looks at the two of you. “I passed out.”

An unknown emotion passes through his irises momentarily as he looks at you. He returns his focus to declaring he’s fine. You purse your lips and almost let your emotions explode, containing it only till you can convince Taeyong to leave.

“You’re hurt because of me,” you choke out.

The room is quiet, Doyoung’s unwillingness to meet your gaze making it worse.

“Now, we don’t know that, Your Highness,” he responds, voice distant.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

“I wouldn’t want to make a habit of calling you love,” he reasons.

“We’re in private—it doesn’t matter.” You try to keep your breathing steady. The panic that rushed in with Doyoung’s invisible injury is doing a tremendous job of driving you mad.

“You’re hurt because of me and I won’t allow you to get hurt anymore,” you say, your voice solid.

Doyoung scoffs. “You’re an angel, not a God.”

You purse your lips. “This isn’t a joke.”

“You sound like me,” he says, slightly raising his eyebrows. “You know I said the exact same thing when you were fooling around in your illnesses.”

“Congratulations, you’ve turned me into a no-fun demon.”

Doyoung sighs loudly. “You’re right, though. I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

He sighs again as soon as he says the words. “I really am a disgrace when it comes to being a demon.”

You laugh softly. Out of all the flaws demons cage within themselves, you couldn’t possibly expect one of them to be an absence of true demon nature. Doyoung is one of a kind.

“How did you…how did you know that you were- were different?” You don’t know a nicer bundle of words to use for your question.

Doyoung hesitates, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t know. I hated doing my tasks more than I was afraid of the rules. That was odd.”

You breathe sharply as his eyes linger on your form, the old frown on his face. A demon’s gaze is still that of a hunter—nature shaped you into predator and prey and she did not like you forgetting it.

“Don’t be afraid of me.”

You jump at his voice, Doyoung’s form sitting straighter and he leans forward. Your heart is still unsteady every time your breaths diffuse, when he’s close like this. He bites his lip before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, the warm sensation spreading all the way to your fingertips. There’s a comfortable silence before Doyoung takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know what you did to me but I changed. I noticed it when the stupid animals starting warming up to me, when I felt sick for the first time in centuries after I saw your blood.”

He pauses.

“You know it too. The pains of going against nature.”

“That long?” you ask.

“Yes,” he answers.

You sigh. You’ve never been loved this way, and it’s already as warm as anything you’ve known. It’s not difficult to love him.

“Don’t worry about me, angel. It’s not what you should feel for a demon.”

Doyoung disappears within seconds and you’re left with mixed emotions, muddled up thoughts and the pending answer to your question of identity. If angels are meant to do the right thing—how would they ever know? It falls into a habit to hear that you’re good every waking moment of your life, but when it actually comes to choices, none of them spell out good for you. You don’t know what choice to make. Doing things in the name of Gods or love does not make you good.

Angels are not heroes, you realize.

And yet they still choose to be in a strange design that never fails, even if it means breaking rules that are millions upon millions of years old, set in stones unyielding.

It’s almost like a test. You don’t think you’ve prepared for it.

You take to endless pacing and anxious walks and somehow, you end up by the main balconies. The breeze isn’t as strong and you spot a familiar figure by the bench. You take a seat beside Taeyong, your mind still muddled up. He greets you with a surprised smile and you share a moment of peace before you interrupt it.

“Taeyong, do you think we’re good?”

Taeyong turns his head to you, his shoulders hunched as he rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s no particular expression on his face, perhaps a bit of confusion.

“I don’t think we’re any better than everyone else. We just try to be good.”

“Isn’t that human?”

Taeyong laughs. “Humans have always been the Gods’ favourite creation. It’s why we look so similar.”

The wind fills up the silence with a tune pulled from nature.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down. “I don’t know why I got so worked up—it’s not normal. We haven’t talked in so long and I just bring you doubts and questions.”

“I think it’s perfectly alright,” Taeyong responds, “You still choose to be good.”

You breathe deeply. Angels are always helpful—it’s not strange for Taeyong to use kind words with the devil himself, much less you. He’s always been this way since you were children, since you showed each other what you gathered of the world around you. You told him things and he listened, a comforting exchange of words.

“Say, (name),” Taeyong interjects your thoughts, “you’re in love with the demon, aren’t you?”

You freeze, a lump forming in your throat. Taeyong nods towards your neck and you hastily pull up your collar. The demon bites haven’t faded since the night you…well, professed your love. You’ve been wearing high collars more frequently—you don’t want your neck exposed for the entire palace to see when there’s only one possible conclusion to the marks.

“And you’ve…uh…you know, physically...amorous too, then? As in—”

Your cheeks get warm.

“Yes. I get it. Whatever you mean. If you want to say I’m a disappointment, you can. I’m failing myself.”

Your eyes flicker down, the guilt bubbling up in your chest again.

“If it’s love, I think it’s quite wonderful.”

You look up, confused. You’d expected some chiding at least, in Taeyong’s soft, stern words. Like those he used as children for your all too eager self, who used to love getting lost in the woods and jumping over fences into lost lands.

“You’re saying this is okay? I’m not following any of the rules we’ve grown up with.”

“Oh, we both know angels aren’t like. We never follow rules. The Gods might as well be playing with us now. You’ll still know to do good.”

You’ve always known the universe to be at the mercy of Gods. New or Old, everything has their time. The universe was born of fire and it will end in ice—that’s the future written in the stones. You sigh. It’s time to make a choice, even if choices belong to humans.

You have a purpose, and you sure as hell will follow it.

“You’re a good motivator, Taeyong.”

“I am?”

“No. I just realized something.”

“You’re welcome either way,” Taeyong says with a goofy smile.

You punch his shoulder, falling into laughter. It’s good to laugh like this, with friends. At least there’s one more person to share the truth with, till one by one, it’s the entire universe. Things could be worse for angels.

Doyoung’s eyes widen ever so slightly when he finds you sitting by the window, enjoying the drizzle outside. It’s soothing in a strange way, how he fits into your peace so easily. He sits beside you, the barest of sunlight through the clouds highlighting the honey in his eyes.

“You look pensive,” he notes.

“Well, because I’m thinking.”

The soft tapping of the rain against the marble tiles fills your ears. Doyoung draws nearer, his head still high with the dignity of demons.

“I can tell when you’re distressed, you stupid angel. What’s wrong?”

You turn your head to the scenery outside the window, the sunlight thriving despite the rain. There are many different endings to a story; most would hope for it to be right here, in Gods’ land. 

There’s still hope for an epilogue.

“I love you,” you irritably blurt out. “But you’re so complicated. Everything’s so complicated.”

“Angel’s finally facing reality,” he hums. “It’s not making a lot of sense, is it?”

“No,” you grumble, slouching over with your elbows on your legs.

Doyoung draws his fingertips on the small of your back. You’ve never seen him as peaceful, not just pretending, as you have these past few months.

“Do you ever just not want to be on any side?” you ask.

“After what you’ve done to me, angel, I just want to be on any side with you- Gods, I can’t believe I said that.”

You laugh. “You’re cheesy, demon.”

Doyoung’s cheeks break into pink but he maintains his face nonetheless.

“No wonder they don’t let us keep you alive for long,” he sighs. “Not just because you’re annoying, but because you’re stronger.”

“Stronger?” you scoff. “What, that’s some internal demon joke?”

“Angel, you changed me. You must understand what that means.”

You stay quiet. So the books were right? Good triumphs over evil—words almost treated as law in the old days. If only guilt wasn’t a horrible side effect.

You reach out to push the hair out of his eyes, enjoying the look of peace on him. Doyoung closes his eyes and sighs. The devil is a gentleman; you’ve seen what the humans find so attractive about demons. But beneath that is the unknown, darkness you can choose to waltz with or soak into. There’s no peace about demons, not in their laws, their homes, their own bodies. But heaven looks a little different to you now.

“It’s going hurt, you know?” you whisper. “Neither of us are accustomed to changing ourselves.”

“The damage is done,” Doyoung responds. “I’d make you a promise if I could.”

“What promise?”

“I’ll always protect you.”

Doyoung hesitantly leans in and seals his promise with a kiss, long enough to make you believe it. Nature can’t hurt what isn’t hers anymore. She isn’t infinite. On the other hand, even time can’t break a soul contract, or you’d have outlived it into oblivion (of course, that’s for as long as time lets you). The contract binds you, protects you but it cannot predict the end.

There are some rules angels can’t break and there are some consequences demons can ignore. 

#no actual smut because im a coward #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #doyoung imagines #nct writing #nct au #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct doyoung scenarios #back with my open endings because i didnt want a sad ending :) #also if youre confused angels are basically chaotic good and demons and lawful evil #thought of alignments halfway through writing this :/ #i need 2 stop writing 2 many word help #angel!au #demon!au #moonwrites

[marcuspierce]

@casimania replied to your post “anyways, something that i love is the fact that...”

I'm dying... watching Lucifer developing a vendetta against specific farm animals is Marcus' new favourite past-time. The Devil speaks like every tongue, would he be able to like communicate with them? Like interpreting sounds and body language? I'm just imagining Marcus seconds from pissing himself because Lucifer is like 'Oh that chicken is rude, that cow is entitled, that horse would kill us both in our sleep for a carrot-' and so on, and he argues with them too.

yes!! (and now i’m gonna add a read more because this got long oops)

 the whole thing starts off randomly when lucifer is looking at properties one time because why not and he just falls in love with this gorgeous farm and he, of course, now needs to own it and live there for a bit (a bit... for an immortal) and marcus tries to be nice about it as he tells lucifer that that is a bad idea but lucifer gets so stubborn about it and insists that he'd do just fine on a farm, actually, and that he'll make sure that marcus will see it too sooner rather than later. and that's how they end up on the farm!

lucifer very quickly learns that marcus was right and that despite the fact that their house was nice and with all the appliances and etc. he still needs to wake up at the crack of dawn every single day and nope they cannot take a day off or just sleep in. he also learns that managing a farm is dirty work and he learns that the hard way (he is down with the fashion.... but all the stuff that he wears is... expensive or designer and just.... not things that you get dirty which was a very bad idea. marcus on the other hand gets like..... cheap stuff and on bulk because he knows that none of it will make it for very long. lucifer has to- painfully- do the same eventually). 

and then... then there's the animals which lucifer finds a complete and utter pain in the ass and marcus finds lucifer mumbling cusses at the animals way too often. (for that reason he doesn't allow lucifer anywhere near his beloved plants because he knows that lucifer's terrible vibes will be like arsenic for his plants fflskfkskgkskgk). 

and lucifer definitely has grudges against specific animals which marcus finds hilarious and he cannot wait to either hear all about it at the end of the day or to cross paths with lucifer during the day and hear lucifer complain. (lucifer also.... sucks at it so marcus has to quietly pick up the slack but that's ok with him. he'd do all the work by himself if lucifer would allow him. but since lucifer won't, well at least he can amuse himself with just how ridiculous lucifer can be. marcus: you're so ridiculous (honorific)!). 

and i do love the idea that lucifer can indeed speak/understand every single tongue, animals included! and marcus finds out about it because lucifer tells him about what marcus assumes are lucifer's impressions and various animals but nope lucifer can understand them.

he can talk to them too and he makes use of it... a lot. marcus is very glad that that reads to him as english because yes it would be hilarious to watch his husband just makes noises at different animals but watching his husband argue in english with said animals in a seemingly one sided argument is infinitely funnier. 

but yes lucifer is like "oh this horse would kill us for a carrot no hesitation" and marcus assumes that lucifer like... said that because that horse has like terrible vibes and he finds it funny and he teases lucifer a little about it but it is very lighthearted- particularly because he also has opinions™ about certain animals (particularly about that horse. he would absolutely kill that horse if it wouldn’t be useful and he is actually glad that the feeling is mutual), he just isn't quite as... passionate about them as lucifer but it would be hypocritical of him to actually be seriously teasing lucifer about it. 

but then he learns that nope, lucifer is not just making shit up and actually he understands the animals and that is just what they think. marcus is pretty delighted by that and his eyes just lit up and lucifer feels instantly better. lucifer, in general, feels much better once he gets to rant to his husband while he watches marcus just buzzing around the house. 

and one time, fairly in the beginning of it, before lucifer learned that he should not be wearing his best clothes while doing farm work, he ends up completely covered in mud. 

when marcus finds him he's literally shaking with rage and he switches languages several times while telling marcus about it to the point where it is a bit unclear to marcus what actually happened (not because he couldn't understand but because he couldn't process it all. he didn’t have the time to, especially since lucifer was going at a 1000 words per minute speed) but he knew that lucifer needed to just... stay inside for the rest of the day... or week. 

so he takes lucifer inside and helps him clean up and then runs him a bath to get him to relax and makes him a snack. after cleaning up, a relaxing bath, a delicious snack and a nice nap lucifer feels much better and he tries to \t least make dinner, but marcus doesn’t let him. marcus doesn’t let him do anything for the day... except be spoiled. lucifer is allowed to be spoiled and lucifer can’t say that he minds, 

but the next day he needs to get back to work. marcus lets him sleep in so he’s already off to a nice start and marcus thinks that everything is gonna be fine because of just how cheery lucifer is in the morning but then he finds lucifer... ranting... at a pig... in a language that marcus doesn’t know.

marcus finds out, about 5 minutes later, that apparently maze can understand what lucifer is saying and that she’d gladly translate except that no words in any human language can convey... any of that but she can say that she pities whoever that rant is directed at. marcus then has to explain that that rant is directed at a pig. he then assumes that said pig was responsible for lucifer being covered in mud the previous day. that pig does not make it to the end of the day (and, no, lucifer doesn’t have anything to do with it.)

also, there’s a stray cat that keeps showing up and lucifer starts feeding it and soon enough it is no longer a stray. lucifer really bonds with that cat and he is lowkey jealous of it because he too wishes he could go back to when he could sleep in and dress nicely and always smell well and he misses the fancy food that he used to eat and he misses coming home to a room full of flowers and/or chocolate and he just really really misses being the feathery equivalent of a house cat!!! but the cat is nice and likes him and loves sleeping next to him (not on him but next to him which lucifer is very appreciative of) and it starts purring whenever it sees lucifer. 

the cat (and just how much marcus is enjoying himself) is a real silver lining in all of that and, after a year or two, he finally admits that marcus was right and he is just simply not made to live on a farm!

#mine: replies #i tried to reply on the actual original post but about 10 replies in i realized that i just... shouldn't <3 #but yes after lucifer realizes that he and the cat have bonded which means that he has a pet #(which is something that he is like... vehemently against because of all the fur and scratched furniture and such) #he starts searching for a pet for marcus because he thinks that his husband also deserves to have a pet #he settles on a big and very energetic dog. just 100 pounds of fluff that marcus can jog with in the morning #and yes lucifer is the cat and marcus is the dog #and this is just my thinly veiled way of saying that they're literally a cat and a dog dating yes! love me some opposites attract!! #also once lucifer admits that he is not made to live on a farm they do not move funnily enough #lucifer has actually found ways to enjoy himself so he manages to 'make it' through a couple more years #before he wants/needs to move back to the city

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter 13: Mad Meg

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 13/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twelve+

Chapter Fourteen+ >>

Severus hated the Malfoy Christmas party. It was a grand affair, full of dignitaries and the upper crust of wizarding society. He knew that many witches and wizards would give up their wand in order to procure and invitation and that he only merited one due to his personal connections to the Malfoy family. Unfortunately, he found it a tedious waste of an evening. To be sure, the food and drink were incomparable, but he hated small talk and most of the other guests. He considered declining the invitation every year, but he knew that would cause more trouble than it was worth. So, every year he put on his dress robes and made a game of seeing how long he could make it through the party without having to talk to anyone after greeting Narcissa at the door. His record was two hours and he sincerely hoped he would break it this year.

He was loitering near a column in the drawing room, nursing a glass of champagne and avoiding making eye contact. Between Nagini’s failed attempt to either retrieve the prophecy or murder Arthur Weasley in the process and Albus’s growing concern about the Dark Lord’s access to Harry Potter’s mind, he had plenty to occupy his thoughts. And there was always the small matter of preparing seven levels of potions work for the spring term to consider. However, he was thinking of none of those things tonight.

Since his brief and unexpected conversation with Miranda the previous week, he had been applying much of his deductive reasoning to devising a way to renew their affair without admitting that he had perhaps been a bit hasty to end it in the first place. He was never one to apologize, but he did realize that he had probably upset her and she might be less than eager to return to his bed. He needed to find a way to lure her in without actually admitting fault—he did have his pride after all. After seeing her though, he was finding his pride rather a cold bedfellow. He felt that if the foolish woman was determined to put herself in harms way by remaining in England, he might as well benefit from her stupidity. But he expected that saying something along the lines of ‘Darling, since you are bound to get yourself killed whatever I do, do you fancy a shag or two before that happens?’ was not the best way to ingratiate himself to the lady in question. While he was brooding about all of this, his thoughts were interrupted by the aforementioned lady.

“Isn’t this a Bruegel? I think it looks like one,” Miranda was saying.

“It does, but it was almost certainly done by Pieter Huys or one of his other followers,” Aaron answered. “I’ll ask Narcissa about it next time I talk to her. She’s the art critic in the Malfoy family.”

“So I heard.”

Severus sighed inwardly. What was that idiot woman doing here? Did she really have a death wish? He turned and saw Aaron and Miranda peering at a painting on the wall. Miranda was dressed in purple and silver tonight, a stately off-the-shoulder a-line gown that somehow inspired more imagination with its relative modesty than what she’d worn last time at the Manor had with its lack thereof. Her hair was swept up in another complicated mass of braids and she wore a pendant of a primitive looking bird around her neck. He shifted so that the column was between them and continued to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Rachel’s had her ‘round for tea a few times,” Aaron went on.

“Really?” Miranda said dubiously. “How’s that going?”

“Fine. Narcissa comes off as a bit cold, but she’s really a peach and smart as a whip.”

“Why do you have to deal with the Malfoys? Shouldn’t the Ambassador be doing that?”

“It’s our pure blood—Robert’s only half. Only the best for the Malfoys, you know.”

Severus could hear Miranda rolling her eyes. “That does come in handy. I’m surprised Mrs. Malfoy let a filthy No-Maj born like me in. Maybe I should go help in the kitchen.”

“Hey, she was very understanding about it. I told you, I like her. And you promised to behave.”

“If you get me another drink, I will continue to behave.”

“As you wish, old girl. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“I’ll do my best.

Aaron obligingly headed off to collect more drinks, and Severus silently stalked up behind Miranda. She was still studying the painting intently and he was at her shoulder before she noticed him at all.

“That was fast……oh” she began without looking. Her eyes snapped from the picture to Severus and back again, and a blush started creeping over her cheeks. “Hello Severus, I didn’t realize you would be here.”

“For a woman who continually protests that she is not an idiot, you certainly offer plenty of evidence to the contrary,” he observed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“If I had a galleon for every time you demanded why I was somewhere, I would be able to retire,” she replied, still looking at the painting. “Do you like Bruegel? Or whoever this is?”

He opened his mouth to make another remark about her intelligence, but controlled his tongue with great effort and turned his attention to the painting. It depicted a mad scene of an army of peasant women storming a hell-mouth. After a moment he admitted, “Yes. I do.”

Miranda looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “See? Was that so hard?”

He let his eyes slide sideways and the corner of his lip curve upwards slightly. “Yes. It was.”

“I imagine it gets easier with practice. Do you think Mrs. Malfoy was trying to tell Mr. Malfoy something by putting a Mad Meg picture in the drawing room?”

He actually smiled at the idea. “Perhaps. I seem to recall there is a proverb of some sort that goes with it.”

“Yes, something to the effect of the Devil himself having no weapon against six or more women.”

“I shudder at the thought.” Silence fell for a moment as Severus attempted to formulate a way to steer the conversation in a more productive direction, but Miranda preempted him.

“If you’d like to continue flirting, now would be a good time to comment on how nice I look,” she prompted.

He raised an eyebrow. “I see no reason to waste breath telling a woman she looks enticing when she is already well aware of that fact.”

“Professor Snape, nice to see you again,” Aaron said, stepping neatly between the two of them. He handed Miranda a fresh glass of champagne and Severus frowned as he noticed Aaron’s fingers dwell on Miranda’s much longer than was necessary. “How was the rest of term?”

“How is it ever? A waste of time and effort attempting to force incompetent students to retain the most basic amount of knowledge,” Severus answered.

Miranda and Aaron exchanged and inscrutable look.

“Would you like to join us?” she asked, taking Aaron’s arm. “We’re giving ourselves an art tour.”

Her casual intimacy with Aaron stirred Severus’s anger. “No, thank you.” he replied coldly.

Miranda pursed her lips and said, “Good night then.”

He gave them a short bow and they strolled off. They had reached the other side of the drawing room when they were intercepted by Lucius Malfoy. Severus was too far away to hear their conversation, but he could tell from Lucius’s expression that he was enjoying it immensely. He could also tell from the set of Miranda’s shoulders that she was not. Before he could wonder overlong about what Lucius was saying, he was completely distracted by the fact that Aaron’s fingers had drifted to the back of Miranda’s neck and were stroking it gently. So, that’s how it was. Severus suddenly found the noise of the drawing room unbearable and left to find somewhere quiet to regroup.

*****

One more word out of Lucius Malfoy and I’m going to hex him—I don’t care what Aaron says Miranda thought as she stormed out of the drawing room. Men! Between Lucius’s baiting and Severus’s vacillating she had had enough of them to last her for a long time. She found that she was near the library and decided she would retreat there to calm her anger. With any luck she and Aaron would be leaving soon and she could focus on everything she needed to do to prepare for her Romanian adventure.

She slipped into the library and closed the door behind her. Fires crackled merrily in the fireplaces and the candles in the lamps gave the room a pleasant glow. She sighed and leaned her head against the door for a moment, trying to let go of her anger. She knew that Malfoy was nothing more than a bully and that she shouldn’t let his stupid remarks get to her. She decided to find something to read for the next half hour or so and turned to find a likely shelf to start perusing. As she did so, her eyes fell on Severus standing near the bay window, studying her disapprovingly.

“I’m beginning to believe that the storied Mrs. Lee is a will ‘o the wisp,” he said bitingly.

Miranda’s brow furrowed. “Rachel?” she asked. “She wanted to stay home so I said I’d come instead.” What in the world was wrong with this man?

“Still ill is she? How convenient for you and Aaron, is it?”

“Not really. Spending the evening here isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make the most of it. Really, could the two of you be more shameless about your affair?”

“Affair? What are you talking about?”

“If he were more obvious about his fondling, he would be undressing you in the drawing room in front of the entire company.”

“Fondling?” A slow smile spread across Miranda’s face and she came a few paces into the room. So that’s how it was. “Severus, I think you are jealous.”

He snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m merely making an observation.”

Her smile widened and she sauntered over to an armchair. When she reached it, she leaned her elbow on it and rested her chin on her hand. “Yes you are. You’re so jealous you’re turning green. That’s so strange—I thought you didn’t even like me.”

His look of disdain became one of exasperation. “I told you I like you well enough when you aren’t acting like a child,” he snapped. He frowned and his tone became a bit less caustic. “I’d even say that I respect you, and I can count the number of people who have won my respect on both hands.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “How romantic. If you were any more florid I’d have an attack of the vapors.”

He stalked across the room, jerked her into his arms, and kissed her furiously. Her hands pushed against his chest for a moment in surprise, but then they slipped up around his neck and her fingers wound their way into his hair. He made a strangled sort of noise in his throat as he crushed her against him. Merlin, she was sweeter than he had remembered. His lips found their way over her neck to explore the flesh just above the neckline of her dress when he realized that she was shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“Severus, I swear you are giving me whiplash,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t suppose you could make up your mind as to whether or not you want to be my lover for longer than five minutes, could you?”

“I might accuse you of the same crime, as I cannot seem to escape from you,” he replied as he searched for that lovely spot on her throat that always forced the most delightful sounds from her. “I would swear you had slipped me a dose of Amortentia if I did not know that you lack the proficiency to brew it.”

“Why you arrogant…” she began, but her voice trailed off as he found that vulnerable spot. He worried it for a while to keep her from finishing her thought.

When she was sagging against him, he drew back and demanded silkily, “Now, you are going to tell me exactly what your little friend was doing to you earlier.”

She laughed and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. “It’s a code.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she explained, “It was invented by a No-Maj painter. Papa made all of us learn it as children and I taught it to Aaron at school. It’s very simple, but extremely useful in wizard society where no one recognizes it.”

He brought her wrist up to his lips and bit her lightly. “Show me.”

She put a finger on his cheek. “Each letter of the alphabet is assigned a combination of long and short pulses. Then you simply spell out what you want to say. For instance,” she started tapping gently on his cheek and spelling aloud as she went, “Y-o-u-a-r-e-a-n-a-s-s”

He snapped at her finger with is teeth and she laughed at him again. “And what was he telling you so secretly?”

“He was telling me to get lost for half an hour so that I didn’t kill Malfoy, who’s on my last nerve. Then Aaron and I are going to consider our duty to MACUSA finished for the evening and get out of here.”

“I see.” Severus glanced at the clock above one of the fireplaces. “That means you should go now before Mr. Lee thinks you are dead.” He released her and fixed her with a stern look. “Go to his flat and I will follow you in twenty minutes. Then you will use that primitive spell you know to take us to your cabin. I feel the need to renew my acquaintance with all the bits of you I may have forgotten.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Do tell me why I should be letting you boss me around without even a please?”

He put a long finger on that useful spot where her neck met her bare shoulder. He slowly ran it down to the top of her dress, and then traced the skin above the neckline to the middle of her chest. From there he drew his finger up over her throat. When he reached her chin, he tilted it up and leaned in until his lips were almost touching hers. “Please.”

She shivered and replied softly, “Well. When you put it that way.”

His eyes gleamed at her arrogantly. Perhaps honey had its uses after all.

*****

Miranda tripped lightly back into the drawing room, delighted with the recent turn of events. True, she had neglected to mention that she’d be leaving the country soon, but that was a matter to deal with in good time. She wanted to put in another week or so learning Romanian before she left anyway. She had procured a volume of Pollyanna Polyglottos’s Romanian in Conversation and she expected it would take her at least that long to complete it, assuming that the new distraction of Severus’s attentions did not completely derail the process.

Aaron was not waiting for her by the piano as she had expected him to be. She loitered next to it, unconcerned, assuming that he would meet her shortly. He had probably assumed she would be late and she laughed to herself over Severus’s scrupulous punctuality. She had not been waiting very long when she was approached by a wizard. Unfortunately, it was not the wizard she was hoping to meet.

“Miss Rose. Alone at last,” Lucius said. “I had thought it would be impossible to separate you from your bodyguard and yet, here you are.”

Miranda pursed her lips, but attempted to maintain decorum. “What a lovely party, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for having me.���

He gave her that feline smile again. “It’s only just beginning. I must say, I was rather surprised that Severus did not request the pleasure of escorting you. But I supposed he would rather not have it known that his taste in women is so base.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than bait me?” she asked impatiently. “I really don’t understand why you find it so entertaining.”

“Because you offend me, Miss Rose. You are an upstart, mudblood tart who does not know her place. You are in my employ and I intend to teach you to respect your betters.”

“I think you’d be better off taking up some other hobby. Where I come from blood lines don’t mean much.”

“A tragedy I hope will be remedied within our lifetime.”

She scanned the room for Aaron, but he was nowhere to be found. She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she found it irresistible to continue bantering with Lucius. “Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, what makes you think that you and your other in-bred pureblood friends are so wonderful anyway?”

His eyes narrowed. “The Malfoy family has been the elite of the wizarding world since its inception. We trace our line back to Armand Malfoy himself, the power behind William the Conqueror. We are—and always have been—the best of the best.”

She gave him an amused look. “Well, I was born on a farm in Kansas and I guess that’s just as haughty and respectable as living in a mansion, licking the Dark Lord’s boots. And if it isn’t, I’ll just have to stand it, that’s all.”

He grabbed her chin and said in a low voice, “My dear Miss Rose, I think it is time for us to retire to a more private room in order to finish this conversation.”

“Why Lucius, are you challenging little ol’ me to a duel?”

“Yes Miranda. Yes I am.”

“How grand. I thought you’d never ask.”

He let go of her chin and offered her his arm. She took it and the two of them strolled out of the room together.

*****

Severus was in a wonderful mood when he left the library, punctual as ever. He fully intended to be ensconced in Miranda’s cabin within the hour, enjoying her favors. It was one of the few times in his life he could ever remember being glad to have attended a party. He briefly considered finding Narcissa to make his excuses, but he decided it was early enough in the evening that her duties as hostess were commanding all of her attention. He would write her a note tomorrow to apologize for not saying a proper good night. Perhaps he would even use Miranda’s back as a desk in order to do so. He allowed his mind to wander along this train of thought as he collected his cloak from the house elf and strode out into the lightly falling snow. What an excellent night this was turning out to be.

*****

Lucius led Miranda into a long, torchlit room, away from the noise of the party. The walls were hung with rich tapestries depicting the members of the illustrious Malfoy family. Statues of grotesque beasts were spaced between the hangings. A beautifully carved dueling platform sat in the middle of the floor and he handed her up the stairs to one end of it like a courtier handing his lady into her carriage. He mounted the platform at the other end, and the two approached each other slowly, savoring the moment. When they reached the middle, they bowed low to each other, then retreated to twenty paces to begin.

They turned as one, slashing their wands silently through the air. Red and white sparks met in the center of the platform, sizzling wickedly. Another round, brighter and louder followed before the first group could fade and soon the cracks and pops of the magic echoed through the room. Lucius’s smile began to fade as Miranda advanced on him, flicking her wand like a whip and hurling curses at him almost faster than he could parry. He stood his ground, but could do nothing to curb her advance.

“Oppugno!” he cried suddenly, and a chandelier came crashing down, hurling shards of crystal at her. She ceased her assault and the deadly leaded glass bounced harmlessly off her shield charm.

“Confringo!” he followed, slicing his wand at her and she was knocked back to the edge of the platform by an explosion. She skidded to a halt and he ran at her, casting another bombardment.

“Crosse!” she shouted, and a white sling bloomed out of her wand. It spiraled through the air, catching Lucius’s hex and hurling it back at him. His eyes widened, but he was quick enough to cast his own shield against the blast. He slid back a few paces and she chuckled softly at his surprise. He gritted his teeth, flicked his wand, and a jet of flames burst from it, curling into a monstrous serpent and striking at her. She jumped over the fiery beast and it curved back on itself for another attack.

“Erstickte!” she commanded. A giant white shroud grew from her wand, wrapping itself around the snake and reducing it to smoke. She turned on him again, still smiling, but he was finished playing games.

“Crucio!” he hissed. She crashed to the floor, body contorted in pain. He stood over her, his smile returning as the red sparks form his wand tortured her. He let it continue until he was panting with the effort, his eyes shining with delight.

The instant the curse ceased, Miranda whipped her wand at him. A blazing white rope lashed out, wrapping itself around his ankle and pulling him to the ground. She drew herself up to her knees and snapped her wand upwards. The rope dropped away from the tip of her wand, but the rest of it remained shining around his ankle.

“Huhuk!” she said, her voice shaky from the pain of the Unforgivable. She flicked her wand through the air and a huge, white, swan-like bird flew forth, its forked tail trailing behind it as it soared into the room. Lucius could only stare at the majestic being in fascinated horror as it turned on him and a bolt of lightening hissed past his head, singeing his cheek. He rolled away as more bolts struck, leaving scorch marks on the dueling platform. He managed to scramble to his feet and run to the end of the platform. He jumped of the end of it, turned, and fired a bolt over Miranda’s head. The red sparks hit one of the jewels that lined the oaken doorframe, and the floor opened underneath Miranda, dumping her unceremoniously into a black pit.

She hit the ground with an awful crack. The trapdoor closed above her, shutting out the light and leaving her in darkness.

*****

Rachel yawned and drew her embroidered dressing gown around her shoulders as she headed for the door, wondering who could possibly be knocking at this hour. She had been up making her nightly trek to the bathroom. She hadn’t expected to need quite so many bathroom breaks at this stage of the pregnancy, but she tried to be patient about it. Aaron and Miranda weren’t home yet, but she thought it was early for them to have returned anyway. She opened the door and greeted her two visitors with a curious—if tired—smile.

“Hello, Mabel. Can I help you?” Rachel asked the house elf.

“So sorry to wake you Mrs. Lee,” Mabel said in a squeaky voice as she wrung her hands.

“It’s all right. I was already up.”

“Oh, good. This is Professor Snape. He says that Miss Rose and Mr. Lee are expecting him.”

Rachel eyed the pale, stern looking man in black dress robes with a bemused expression. Last she had heard, Miranda and Professor Snape were not keeping company, but she supposed sometimes things changed rapidly in that department.

“Thank you, Mabel, that will be all. Please come in, Professor Snape.”

Severus entered the flat, his expression blank, and Rachel closed the door after him.

“Do sit down,” she continued, indicating a chair at the kitchen table. “Would you like a cup of tea while you wait? Aaron and Miranda aren’t back yet.”

She started filling the kettle without waiting for him to answer. When she had it on the stove, she noticed that he had not taken a seat and that he was frowning darkly.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Lee,” he said coldly. “I had thought the others would have returned by now.”

“It’s still rather early,” she replied, bristling a bit at his tone and countenance. “Do you think something has happened?”

“I fear that may be the case.”

Her brow furrowed. “Well, I’m glad they are together, whatever the case may be. I’m sure they will be home soon.”

“I hope you are right,” he said, his tone implying that he maintained no hope whatsoever.

*****

It took some time for Miranda to regain her breath. When she did, she dug out a cigarette and lit it with shaking hands. She smoked it slowly and it temporarily reduced the pain from the Cruciatus Lucius had cast on her. When she had finished, she checked her limbs carefully for damage. She was bruised and sore, but nothing was broken. She gingerly got to her feet and found that she’d even escaped any damage to her ankles. She knelt back on the floor and started patting around for her wand. She froze when she discovered that it had been broken into pieces on impact.

“Shit,” she muttered. She picked up the pieces and tucked them into a pocket. After they were safely stowed away, she touched the pendant around her neck and started tapping.

***** Aaron reluctantly ended his conversation with Narcissa and headed for the drawing room. They had been discussing the merits of St. Mungo’s for childbirth versus Rachel’s plan to employ a midwife-witch and have the baby at home. Aaron was vacillating between letting Rachel make the decision and admitting that he was absolutely terrified by her idea. Narcissa agreed with him, but he knew if he even brought it up Miranda would come down on his head and take up Rachel’s cause. He was annoyed when he reached the piano in the drawing room and saw that Miranda was nowhere to be found. He was used to her tardiness, but he really would have rather talked to Narcissa a bit longer if he’d known Miranda was going to be this late. He was strumming his fingers on the piano when he felt the Thunderbird pin on his robes begin to pulse.

“AM IN PIT UNDER DUELING HALL WAND BROKEN COULD USE A HAND”

He sighed. Nothing was ever simple with Miranda.

*****

“How long ago did you leave them?” Rachel asked Severus calmly as she poured the water from the kettle over the tea leaves.

“Less than an hour,” he replied irritably as he paced the kitchen.

“I suppose that is long enough for them to have gotten into trouble.” She started handing him tea cups and saucers to give him something to do besides pace. He gave her a withering look, but set the dishes on the table and went back for the teapot without being asked.

She glanced at the clock “At this point I’d rather not send anyone to the Malfoy’s. For all we know Aaron got distracted talking to someone. If they aren’t back in two hours, I’ll send out an Auror after them.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but there was nothing else to be done, so the two of them sat down for an awkward late night tea party.

*****

The air was chilly in the pit. Miranda was still in total darkness and she stretched her hands out in tentative exploration. There was a wall three paces behind her and she felt comforted to have something at her back. She settled against it, expecting she could wait out the ten minutes it would take Aaron to find her. The nerve of Lucius Malfoy! She supposed she should have expected him to cheat, but really! What kind of nobleman was he? And a bout of Cruciatus too! Her nerves were still on fire, but she had enough adrenaline running through her system that it, combined with the smoke, enabled her to ignore the pain.

She started playing a parlor game to keep her thoughts from straying away into fear induced panic. “I love my love with an A because he is adorable,” she muttered. “I hate my love with an A because he is arrogant. His name is Adonis, he comes from Arlington, and I gave him an arrowhead. I love my love with a B because he is beautiful. I hate my love with a B because he his beastly. His name is Byron, he comes from…”

Her voice trailed off as she heard the distinct sound of an animal snorting and its hooves hitting the stone floor. She slowly pulled a piece of her wand out of her pocket and lit the end of it with a snap of her fingers. When her eyes adjusted to the new source of light, they widened in horror as she beheld a giant, ash-colored warthog.

“Shit,” she muttered.

***** Rachel did not bother trying to make small talk with Professor Snape. Although his face was completely composed, agitation was rolling off him in waves. She had known her husband and her friend long enough that she strongly believed in their ability to handle whatever mess they might have landed in. In fact, she wasn’t altogether convinced that anything had happened at all. Aaron’s gift of gab was legendary and she knew from personal experience that between making a decision to depart a gathering and actually exiting the door could take him an hour or more to execute. She acknowledged that the professor was convinced that something terrible had happened, and she really didn’t want to sit with him in strained silence until the others returned.

Mind made up she stood and said, “Professor, would you mind taking a look at our potions room? I’m sure it doesn’t hold a candle to what you have at Hogwarts, but it has everything required for the basic necessities. Could I trouble you to start a new batch of some items in case we have to use up our store of first aid tonight?”

She thought he looked a bit relieved to have something to do. “Very well,” he replied curtly.

***** Miranda moved quarter inch by quarter inch. After an unbearable time she managed to nestle the burning wand into a niche in the wall. Her hands now free, she continued the agonizingly slow movement to a slit in the side of her skirt. The tebo stared at her, confused by the light and frozen for the moment. She eased her pistol out of its holster around her thigh, ignoring the pain that shot up her hand as she grabbed it. She and the beast stared at each other for a long moment and she began to hope that it would decide she wasn’t a threat.

Suddenly the beast disappeared and she heard its hooves pounding across the floor. So much for that hope. She gripped the pistol and turned her thoughts inward. Her wand might be broken, but she wasn’t completely out of tricks. The hoofbeats pounded in her ears, echoing off the stone and making it difficult to tell exactly where they were coming from. She counted silently to herself, gathering her magic.

5…..4…..3….2…..1

She jumped, bounding up the wall and over the invisible beast. She rolled across the floor and, as she did not hear an impact she assumed the tebo had swerved away from the wall at the last second. She ran to the edge of the light cast by her wand torch and then stopped dead, listening for the tebo’s hooves. As she listened, she undid her skirt and pulled it off, forcing herself to move slowly and silently. She tucked the pistol into the waist of the trousers she was wearing underneath her dress. She was glad she had decided to put on her boots tonight rather than dress shoes.

Holding the skirt like a matador’s cape, she waited for the tebo to charge again. She could hear it snorting and pawing the ground again, but she kept herself poised and ready even though her heart was pounding. After what felt like an hour, it charged again and she held her ground to the last. She managed to catch her skirt on one of the beast’s tusks, but it tossed her angrily and she flew across the room, slamming into the wall. She dragged herself up off the floor with a grim smile, ignoring the slash on her arm that was bleeding freely. The tebo was furious now, trying to shake the skirt off its head. The fabric was caught on a tusk, outlining the head of the creature like an eerie No-Maj Halloween ghost.

Miranda drew her pistol again and crouched, waiting. The tebo stomped and spun wildly, head jerking against the impediment of the skirt. Finally it scented the cause of its trouble and charged again. Miranda took aim and waited. Saint Barbara, don’t fail me now, she thought.

Five feet. Four feet. Three feet. Two feet. Ten inches. Eight inches.

She pulled the trigger and the noise exploded through the pit, deafeningly loud.

*****

Aaron dropped lightly through the trapdoor in the abandoned dueling hall. There was a dimly burning something on the wall next to him. Rather than wait for his eyes to adjust, he cast Lumos and scanned the room for signs of his wayward friend.

“How much of that blood is yours?” he drawled when he saw her.

“Not much,” she grunted. She was methodically skinning the now visible body of the tebo with a wicked looking knife.

Aaron sighed. “How long is it gonna take you to do that?”

“I don’t know. An hour maybe. Can you conjure me a couple of bags? I want to take some of the organs and the hooves and tusks too.”

“Mother of pearl, woman! This is is a fancy party, not a hunting trip!”

She grinned at him and continued working. He conjured up the bags and settled in to smoke while he waited for her to finish.

*****

Narcissa stood at the door, waving away the last of her guests. She knew she had outdone herself this year and she hoped that Lucius would take the trouble to mention it. He had seemed in a particularly good mood earlier that evening, although it had been a few hours since she had seen him. As the front door closed, he appeared from the hallway and kissed her cheek, a smug smile on his face.

“Excellent work my dear. The best yet,” he said smoothly.

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied, delighted to be admired.

“Lucius, Narcissa, I want to thank you for a lovely evening,” Aaron’s voice interrupted.

Narcissa turned and blinked, startled by the sight that greeted her eyes. Aaron was smiling at her charmingly, a large bag slung over his shoulder but otherwise looking as trim and dapper as he had at the beginning of the night. Miranda walked beside him, completely disheveled. Her hair had partially escaped from its braids and the top of her gown and her jewelry was incongruous with the trousers and boots on her bottom half. And, of course, she was covered in dried tebo—and human—blood. She carried a large bag as well and she smiled brightly at her hosts shocked expressions.

“It was wonderful,” she agreed. “I don’t know when I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

Lucius was staring at the two Americans incredulously, his lips pursed and his face pale.

Narcissa recovered first and gave them a tight smile. “All you quite all right, Miss Rose?”

“Me? Never better. Like I said, a most entertaining evening. Although you might want to send a house elf down to deal with what’s left of the tebo. There’s some meat you might be able to use if you hop to.”

“Tebo? Merlin, what happened?”

“Eh, Miranda needed the exercise,” Aaron put in, “but we’d better be getting home. I don’t want my wife to wake up and worry. Good night Narcissa. Lucius.”

A curious house elf scurried over with the Americans’ cloaks. Then Miranda took Aaron’s arm and the two of them sauntered out of the Manor into the snow together.

----------------------------------

End Notes:

Purple and silver are the Thunderbird house colors.

The painting is a copy of Pietor Bruegel's Dull Griet. The proverb mentioned is from a 1568 Antwerp book of such and runs: "One woman makes a din, two a lot of trouble, three an annual market, four a quarrel, five an army, and against six the Devil himself has no weapon."

The code is, of course, Morse Code.

I think that American spells would be in all sorts of languages, so I used a combination of French, German, and Pawnee for this set.

Saint Barbara is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. She is the patron saint of firearms and is invoked against sudden death. As early firearms tended to explode unexpectedly, killing their users, this association seems to make a morbid sort of sense.

--------------------------------

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twelve+

Chapter Fourteen+ >>

#severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfic #snape #snape x oc #snape fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfc #harry potter fanfiction #malfoy manor #adventure #romance #second wizarding war #ilvermorny #american magic #american wizards #espionage #spying #morse code

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boyfriend vs exams - mark lee

boyfriend idol au x reader. mark lee x reader. warnings: handcuffs, over stimulation, oral. 

Mark being a nct member means hes always away, he finally sees you and reunite at your place after months but you have a exam tomorrow morning but the ache for your boyfriend is much more important?

curling your body together like a racoon, shutting your eyes tightly, just trying to fall asleep, to sleep finally from after picking him up from the airport and not to mention you had a important exam tomorrow.

you could feel the warmth of his body just slightly. you could hear the little breaths of his flutter against the pitch black bedroom. feeling your insides drop a little when he starts to stir in his sleep, he flops his bare leg on top of yours, the back of his heel digging against the inside curve of your knees. he slings an arm forward and rests it on you for a moment.

he moves his fingertips on your skin, trailing a single finger in small circles on the exposing skin of the middle of your back and even a little action makes you close you eyes in pleasure, your toes curl and the breathing suddenly catching at the back of your throat. You could feel your heart beat a thousand miles, it was heavy and erratic, feeling so evident you were afraid it could wake him up.

you clutch your hands together and bring them in the swell of your breasts, trying to somewhat ease the not so foreign feeling swimming around that starts bubbling in your lower stomach. it doesn’t seem to work because your nipples are suddenly pushing against your white plain camisole, you let out a little sigh at this feeling and react by buckling your hips. you didnt know what you were getting at by doing that but you just want relief. you could already imagine how wet you were.

nothing was working, no friction at all seem to be present. the reminders of how you did this quite a lot, how just last a couple of days ago you were rubbing yourself out to get over the feeling of wanting his fingers inside of you. you snap your eyes open when you hear a low chuckle.

“baby” a hoarse and familiar chuckle coming from the person laying in front you.

you feel like a kid that was caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar and still the moving of rubbing your thighs together, only now you realise he was watching you squirm, how long was he awake for?

you could focus on nothing but his eyes and despite the darkness you could still somehow feel the flaring sexual desire behind them as he stares at nothing but your not so innocent wide eyes. you didnt know if he could see you but you suddenly start to feel shy and embarrassment by his stare. to this your eyes deceive you and panic and tear away from his hungry stare. you flicker your eyes down and he had his signature mark smirk plaster across his face.

“did you think i was asleep?” he starts to speak.

the low and rusty mumbling from his morning voice cause you to clench suddenly, you were struggling from every little motion he did, only know you start to realise how sensitive you actually were.

mark always had a busy schedule but recently he was away for over three months because of promotion, flying from seoul to LA and all over the US. he would sometimes call to check up on you, the little “i love you baby” and cut short phone calls were the only messages he sent you- the only he could send you because of his schedule.

“i’ve missed you y/n” the mumbling of him on your shoulder, the soft feelings of his lips yet sloppy feeling of kisses begin to trail up from your shoulder to the crook of neck. you could feel the breath of him breathing from his nose that tickles your skin, you really did have sensitive skin but he was always taking advantage over that and when you would release a sweet noise, it would boost his ego.

he sucks at the sweet spot which he remembers so well and precise at where the location is and just he waits in anticipation you let out a small barley there noise which was so evident to his ears. He smiles against your skin and chuckles, loving the reactions coming from you. He licks the back of your ear before making a promise that you were longing to hear for so long.

“let me help my poor baby cum.”

you don’t react which he knows you were too lost in pleasure but just to tease you more he whispers again.

“would you like that y/n?”

he watches they way your mouth part a little as if you were going to speak but nothing coming out and with the closing of your eyes and the way your teeth was trapping your bottom lip, it was the face he extremely adore to see. you would always make that face when you were about to let go, it was a face that gave him pleasure too, he groans remembering at all the previous times you were under him, shaking under his body, remembering the delicious clench of your walls and of course the precious noises that he got off of that sticks to his mind at the late and lonely nights. he twitches when he reminds that and brings his hand between the space of the two heated bodies and slips to the inside of his shorts. damn he didn’t realise how much he needed you too, both of you were just as needy as each other from the fact from being distant for the past months.

quickly and mindlessly making a desperate move he snatches his hand and closes the space between you two, he rubs himself helplessly almost as if wasnt even himself as if all control over his own body was suddenly lost. the feeling was complete bliss, he was loving the friction, maybe a little too much because he almost forgot the fact the he wasn’t by himself this time and that this time it wasnt just his hand.

embarrassing to say the least, mark was having a difficult time keeping in control with the smell of pure sweetness of your hair. everything would remind him of you and as dirty as it would sound every late night sessions of rutting against the sheets from every hotel room, his nose would inhale in against the speckle pure white pillow, visioning the image of him tucking between your hair and neck as he releases onto the towel like a little dirty boy, it was the only thing that would make him let go and today he would actually have what he has been aching to have?

you could hardly comprehend what was happening but less than a minute mark was shaking and the feeling of dampness of this crotch was sticking to your bare thigh. this causes you to peel open your eyes and bring you back to reality and even though you didn’t finish and the fact he just let go of himself after five minutes with only rubbing against your crotch made you scoff and it was your time to chuckle.

he keeps his head in tuck of your hair. the warm and erratic breathe of his was hot on your neck .to say the least watching and hearing his moans made you feel a sign of control and you two always want control over one another but usually mark would always win, especially when he uses his strength as an advantage and holds your arms above to stop you from touching him with him ramming into your sloppy core with his tongue flicking your nipples.

that night he made you cum not only twice but four times in a row even though tears fell like a waterfall and after that night the black mascara that stuck to your cheeks like a tattoo and was so difficult to wash off. you remember that night all to well. that same night you had to drop him and his group members to the airport to return back to seoul.

“did you cry that much y/n?” taeyong laughs as he points to his cheeks indicating for you to touch your own and to your surprise black left over mascara bits were all over your fingers.  

“you must really love this little bastard huh?” he continues.

“im jealous of mark-hyung” donghyuck chirps in as he slings his arm around your shoulder.

the boys were so lost to what actually was the cause behind the black streaks on your cheeks. “mhmm” mark hums as he takes out his passport out of his hoodie pocket, flicking eyes up to your wide ones for a moment, “she was screaming for me not to leave her” you simply bite at your lip, slightly worried about him spilling anything out to the boys.

“wasnt that right y/n?” he says again when he notices you didnt reply.

you cross your arms and hug yourself tightly to keep steady and not to give anything away because you did suck at lying so you simply nod but your eyes were not even up and you were staring at your slip on slippers, wriggling your toes. taeyong and donghyuck seem to be hesitant and stick a look at each other, probably knowing the truth as the amptoshere suddenly drops quiet.

“FLIGHT TO SEOUL is departing in fifteen minutes at 11:30pm on SEOUL-c27” the blaring of the announcement causes the two boys to snap back to reality.

mark coughs loudly between the three of you, donghyuck quickly removes his arm off of your shoulder and darts his eyes away from taeyong to the ground and begins walking ahead to the waiting section even though there was fifteen minutes till boarding.

you sneer a confident grin and like a devil suddenly possesing over mind you gently pull yourself away from your boyfriend. thankfully you two were at your apartment and you knew where all the nic nacs were hidden including the hand cuffs that he bought you to use but you two have never got the chance to use.

you grin when you feel the metal of the cuffs from blindly try to locate them in your bedside drawer without slinging your body away him and making a fuss.

he opens his eyes from his high when he feels his wrists against the cold silver. he wriggles and pulls but this only causes red rashes which burns.

“y/n” he hisses at the burning against his skin.

he calls for you when he doesn’t feel the warmth of another body next to him.

he sounds so whiney and broken and this causes you to grin and you jump off the bed for a moment to flick the lamp on.

the lights were dill but just enough to make out where everything was. you stand beside your bed for the second and watch him swing his head to the left but he doesn’t nothing but stare at you in confusion.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks and from the way he was just spread out onto your bed like a helpless boy made you confident enough to answer back, “im doing what you did to me.”

you move onto the bed and swing a leg over his stomach and barely move your crotch over his and almost instantly you whine at the feeling of how dirty this situation was.

mark doesn’t do anything but watch you getting off and the way your hips were moving, the light rubbing of your clothed core to his wet one made him twitch and come alive once more.

you start to move your hips in circles, feeling lost in pleasure. your eyes flutter shut and desperation to orgasm build up once again. you strunch his white t-shirt in your fingers a little harder when you feel his crotch twitching and hardening under your thin bed shorts. you then want nothing but for him to be inside you, to take away all the months worth of pain from leaving you alone, to take away all the months of needing him inside you but when you open your eyes only the white ceiling was present with your hand trapped between you thighs, quivering with desperation but the orgasm to let go never washing over your body.

“thats it baby” the similar voice catches your attention and you find his eyes stuck on you, his eyes staring straight into yours, pupils of his doubling in size as the amazement of you rutting yourself against him made him unable to tear away from the beauty in front of him. he just finds it so amazing as this was the first time you were in control and he didnt know how much this was turning him on until now.

he flicks his vision to your hips watching at the movement as he imagines you without the layers of the bottoms between the two bodies. he buckles his hip at yours and this makes you scream at the way it rubs your clit.

you steady yourself and rub more faster at wanting to finally orgasm, chasing it so much like a long and never ending marathon because of how long you waited for this to happen.

“o-open your eyes baby, l-look at me when you come” he groans out.

mark was a moaning mess below you, letting out groans every now and then and you could tell he was close and you were somewhat jealous he was there before you with you not having an orgasm for over three months and there was no one to blame but him. you make a decision to hop off him.

he looks at you as you sit on your knees, kneeled uneasily but surprisingly he wasnt mad like you thought he would be.

“Whats wrong?” he says as he finally finds his voice again after the session.

he just lays there in confusion as you want to cry for being selfish? “y/n?” he calls, “babe?”

“i can’t seem to…” you whisper feeling pathetic, not being able to finish the sentence.

he looks lost for a second but finally flickers to your crotch, getting his head around the situation. mark almost seems sorry for you when he sees what was happening, the way you trap the hand between your crotch, the little tears staining your rosy checks that your probably weren’t aware of, you were so close yet so far away and he now felt nothing but the need to please and help you.

he tries to move but only the sound of metal hitting metal clash along the silent room.

mark wishes nothing but for you to release him from the position which made him unable to give attention to his baby girl’s needs. he begins to agitate and pull against the restraint violently.

“let me go will ya?” he almost growls in that thick accent you adore but then your mind wonders back about releasing him but this was your chance to prove to mark that you are capable of being in control, to prove him wrong and as you think back into why this was even happening, thinking about uncuffing him was not a choice anymore.

“come here babe” he tries tempting you when he sees you hesitant for a second, “release me and ill fuck you two times” he says, his voice like pure honey, luring you to complete his request like a hungry bear to its honey pot, “just the way you like baby” he adds.

you get on your knees and crawl to your way to uncuff him, needing to release so badly, thinking about his last words when you clench your walls around nothing again.

he watches your move steadily, grinning at how easily you were to persuade. just as you were about to pull the little metal twitch on the handcuffs, you were still hesitant about this because of knowing mark for nearly two years you were sure the boy would tease you to death before complying to what his promises and knowing how naughty he was you began to negotiate on the offer. while still hovering over his face and your fingers pausing at the cuffs “wait mark-“ you begin but he quickly attaches his teeth to your sensitive nipple that was peeping up through your thin camisole, this causes you actually clutch the cuffs from the sudden pleasure. this mistakable reaction makes the metal cuffs to separate from his sore and red wrists.

without a second to spare, your head hits the pillow with a “ompff” and mark has your head caging between his arms as he places each hand next to your face. he makes a “tsk” between his teeth and disappointment is written all over his face. you really were considering the fact of releasing him but from his point of view, you not complying instantly to his request and hesitating to release him made him think you were never going to uncuff him.

you were going to explain but suddenly and surprisingly he pets your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands while using the support of his left arm, he lowers to whisper so deliciously in your ear, “lemme eat you out.”

but to your surprise he wasnt going to tease you because he quickly gets to work by pulling off both layers of pj shorts and panties and quickly he latches onto your clit. you bite your lip harshly muffling the need to scream violently at how good it felt.

you didnt realise how much you were moving your hips when you feel the pain of his fingers digging onto your hips. you look down at the boy between your legs and brown nestled bird hair that came into the view instead of the famous blonde ramen hair. Mark was dying and bleaching his hair a lot so you were hesitating whether it was ok to pull at it but before you could ask he mumbles against your pulsing clit, “so sweet”

“god I missed this taste” he mumbles against your core and the vibrations cause your hips push up against his mouth even more, the tingle so intense making its way to the end of your toes as you kick and squirm under your boyfriend.

you began to shake and finally the orgasm you’ve been chasing arrives and you let go, mark slurps up your juices and you open your eyes to the slurping noise which you dissapprove, it was the only noise in the apartment.  

when mark doesn’t pull away you were afraid he didnt realise you had already finish so call out his name but he doesn’t flinch away at all.

“m-mark, i’m done-e,” you squeak out barely at the oversensitivley kicking in when he continues to flick his skilled tongue against your bundles of nerves.

planting your feet against the bed to try and move up to sit up but he doesn’t move a inch, instead his grip on your thighs harden and grips it in a deathly hold. Now you knew everything seemed to good to be true. you knew your boyfriend all too well for him to generously comply to your request without any problems.

you pull at his locks a little too harshly because of the fact off how uncomfortable and quickly the sensitively was hitting the insides of your lower stomach. he pulls his head up at you and you whimper instantly at him.

from his nose to his chin, all the was covering his smooth skin was your essence. The sight was so erotic your eyes couldn’t leave as you flicker them from it dripping on his nose to chin to the way his eyes were pitch black like an wild animal and how it was blown bigger in size, pupils twice as big.

“don’t make me cuff you.”

he opens his moisten lips as he uses the warning in such a scary tone but you couldn’t do anything but clench your oversensitive mound at the threatening but temptingly sexual meaning behind them that you wish could happen.

mark just smirks at your reaction and how beautifully a mess you were below him and how last time before he left you your cheeks were a big black mess from the tears drying up. he bites his lips trying to control his posture because he remembers that night a little too well.

with the similar tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes mark experiments cautiously with his middle finger and enters your centre gently. he sees those tears fall from the edge of your eyes and he the softness he has for you causes him to repeatedly kiss the inside of your thigh. Mark could feel your walls closing and clenching so quickly he knew you were close and with the way you were tugging at his brown strands of hair like your life depending on it.

“cmon baby” he cooes sweetly below you as he slowly pushes the single finger in to the knuckle.

he smiles proudly when you weren’t flinching as much and able to generously take in his whole finger. he moves his thumb to rub in the circles on your clit and switches on his knees to hover slightly just to see your face a bit better when you let go for him because it was a sight he was missing a little to much.

he sees your eyes shut and you were so unaware of mark just taking in the image of you for his own pleasure. he sees the the way your lips are apart and swollen, just panting but noise not coming out, the way your eyebrows knits together, the heat causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, the raising of your gorgeous chest that arches off the bed and if he were to tuck his head between your neck he would probably hear the loud thudding of thunder like heart beats, ones which you try to hide from him and the warm sweet scent of your natural body wash he adores or the alluring scent your shampoo he gets off of every now then.

from the shaking and quivering of your thighs to the red grip fist you have on your bed sheets, mark takes it in, something he will remember for when he leaves tomorrow night for his flight back to seoul again.

he watches the way your stomach, which was expose due to the rising of the fabric, move in heavy motion and sucks itself in and just from past experience he knows you were about to finish. mark eyes captivates the way your juices of your second release run down his finger and onto the bed sheets, he could only imagine the sweet and salty taste that would capture his tastebuds if he were to run his tongue along it.

with supporting your weight on your elbows,you look below through damp eyes at your boyfriend and through hazy and probably swollen from all the crying, you see him sucking his middle finger harshly, almost as if he were dying to get every last drop. With his mouth completely over his middle finger like a lollipop, you would scold him like a child for being so unhygienic but you only stare back at the set of beautiful brown eyes.

“so delicious noona” he says with his mouth full and with him still on him knees you flicker your eyes down at his crotch, you physically want to help your boyfriend out but mentally hope he could finish himself off because you were in no state to do anything more.

you were so sleepy, like the energy for the rest of the week had gone down like a drain. You didn’t know how long it had been or how long mark had been pleasuring you for but it seems like it was nearly morning and you had a class at 11:30 am and with you falling asleep, mark was still in ache without his release yet and he decides to take things into his own hands because he knew you two still had tomorrow before he left and the fact that you did have class in a couple of hours.

#mark lee fanfics #nct mark fanfics #nct mark lee #nct mark scenarios #nct smut #nct mark smut #mark lee smut #nct dirty fanfiction

[zztophat]

discord: the missing piece

SUMMARY: Sam and Zatanna settle in for a night of research at Zatanna’s ancestral (and sentient) home, Shadowcrest. What starts out as a quiet evening, quickly takes a deadly turn when Shadowcrest manifests a door that leads the pair to the third and final tablet. TRIGGERS: Death mentions, Depression, Suicidal Ideation WRITTEN WITH: @ofsamwinchester, @ofwarriors, @ofdeathstouch

ZATANNA: She and sam were working on deciphering the tablet now that they had all the parts together. this time they were in her father’s study at shadowcrest. as she was setting books down on her what used to be her father’s desk, she knocked into a small statue of harry houdini. zatanna was expecting to hear it shatter but instead she heard a very distinct click. a moment later, the bookcase behind her opened up to a hidden doorway she’d never seen before. “well, that’s ominous...wanna take a break and go exploring?”

SAM: Although the thought of having almost all the pieces of the tablet was nerve-wracking, Sam was glad for the distraction of it after everything that had happened between being tortured by Will, Charlie nearly dying and becoming Death, and the other version of himself taking over for a while. He’d worked with Raphael to have a better method for dealing with his addiction to demon blood this time, but that didn’t mean it had been easy. Lucifer had him going to a therapist now too, but being so close to having all the tablet pieces together gave him a new sense of hope. He looked up when Zatanna knocked into something, seeing the bookcase moving. He was surprised she hadn’t found this before, especially considering who her dad was. He expected that she would’ve looked for this kind of stuff before, but he wasn’t going to turn down a mystery. “Sounds fun, just give me a second.” He put away his research where no one could find it in case someone walked in and walked over to the door with Zatanna. “Any idea what might be in there before we go in? How many traps should we expect?”

ZATANNA: Zatanna peered into the darkened corridor of the hidden doorway behind the bookshelf. It was hard to see anything so she manifested a small orb of light. "I'm not sure to be honest," she replied. The path before them was all cobblestone and spider webs at the moment. She didn't know what could be down there. "Shadowcrest is my ancestral home but it's also sentient being. It's sort of like living in the TARDIS," she explained. Only Shadowcrest had more of an attitude than the TARDIS in Zatanna's opinion. "The only rooms of the house that stay static are my father's library," she gestured around them. "The master bedroom and the room that used to be mine as a kid. Every other room changes, rearranges, or disappears for years sometimes. I can call up some rooms like the magic archive because I'm the keeper of the house, but some rooms just show up when you need them or when the house feels like you need them. I guess she wanted us to see this for ourselves." Zatanna allowed the orb of light to travel a little further up ahead of them before looking over her shoulder at Sam. "Can you send your brother a text and tell him..." What were they going to tell him? That a house wanted them to see something? "Tell him we're working on a lead," she smiled. "We at least have to pretend we're responsible."

SAM: Well, that was always good to hear. More than likely, it meant trouble for them, and after everything that had been happening lately, they didn't really need more trouble. Nevertheless, it always seemed to find them, and they weren't ones to turn it away. If the house was sentient, that didn't make this any better. There were plenty of movies of evil houses or just houses that went crazy and tried to kill their inhabitants. Maybe they'd be lucky though. "Maybe the house thinks we need a spa day," he joked. It'd be nice if that's what the house thought they needed, but based on what he could see through the door, the cobbled stones and spiderwebs did not indicate a place of relaxation. "Or maybe it just wants us to clean up in there because it's grossed out." He'd still take that over something life-threatening at this point. "Yeah, I'll text him." He nodded as he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Dean.

[sent message > Dean]: Zatanna's sentient house just opened up a door. She says it's likely showing us something we'll need. I'll keep you posted if it goes full Monster House on us.

[sent message > Dean]: I'll try to make sure I don't nearly die again.

He put his phone back away and looked up to Zatanna. "Hopefully there's still cell reception in there, but lead the way."

ZATANNA: "If only," she laughed. She very much needed a spa day but it was anyone's guess where Shadowcrest was going to take them. "If it gets dangerous, I'll just call up the door again," she justified. That was within her scope of power but both she and Sam knew that they still likely wouldn't back away from whatever Shadowcrest presented to them. It wanted them to see it and it thought they could help. Still though the justification made her feel like they were being responsible in some way when in reality they weren't. "We should really get on the interdimensional mobile phone plan," she joked. At least even if the phones lost service, her magic was strong enough to get a message across to their friends. This was, of course, another justification for what they were doing and it operated on the principle that she would always be in control of her magic which wasn't the case, but never the less she persisted.

She stepped into the doorway with Sam and began walking forward. The ball of light moved ahead of them, keeping the area well lit. A moment later, she heard the door shut behind them. She turned to look back and the doorway was gone now. "She must've closed the door to not let anything else into the house," Zee assured Sam. The doorway would appear again when they were done. Zee turned and continued to follow the orb. "Looks like there's a drop ahead so watch your step."

SAM: He nodded as she explained that she'd call up the door again if it got dangerous. "Hopefully Shadowcrest will let us get back here if we need to leave at any time." Maybe he could leave something of his that they could track back here in case the house didn't feel like letting them back in. He wasn't quite sure exactly what a house would want to show him, but he was curious enough that he didn't think he could back out if it did get dangerous. He needed to see what was in here. "What phone company is that plan on? Verizon?" He joked as he got an almost immediate text back from Dean. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't happy.

[sent message > Sammy]: Sammy…wtf? How does any of that sound like a good idea to you?

[sent message > Sammy]: You two are the dumbest smart people that I know. Please tell me someone is going with you two.

"Dean's mad," He told Zatanna, but he wasn't all too worried about it. Dean couldn't get in here unless the house let him, and he wasn't against his brother coming with them if he did come. They just weren't waiting for him.

[sent message > Dean]: In my defense, the house thinks we need to go there.

[sent message > Dean]: Maybe it’ll be helpful. It doesn’t necessarily have to be bad.

[sent message > Dean]: Zatanna’s with me, and the house, if that counts.

[sent message > Dean]: Besides, I’m letting you know now, so if anything actually goes wrong, I’ll just text you.

That ended up not being the case since he was right about the lack of reception here. A few moments after the door closed, his phone lost signal. He could only use it as a flashlight to add to the light Zatanna made. "I hope she's just trying to keep rats out and not something more ominous down here." He followed Zatanna through the catacombs, sticking close to her. "So what do you think is down here?"

ZATANNA: "We'll probably have to bribe her." With what, Zatanna didn't know. New siding maybe? Hopefully they wouldn't have to leave mid-mission though. It was better to just get this done and over with. Zatanna hoped this would at least be worth their time. What Shadowcrest deemed important for her to see was...strange sometimes. "No, it's Virgin Mobile," she joked back. It was easier to cope with humor than it was to admit that something about this entryway made her nervous. It radiated a weird sort of energy.

"That's to be expected. I told him he could come tonight but trying to decipher dead languages is apparently not as fun as whatever he had planned so his loss. If we run into trouble that we can't handle, we can just pray to one of the Archangels." Michael and Lucifer kept their lines open just in case. Of course, she didn't want to call them because deep down she knew Michael would be pretty upset with her. She knew this was reckless. If something happened to her and Sam, then progress on deciphering the tablets they currently had likely would've stalled. But Shadowcrest knew this. It wasn't the first time she helped them out with the tablets. Zatanna recalled that there was at least one instance where the house threw a book off her Father's shelf and that book held one of the symbols that was on the tablet. The house wanted to be involved in this, so it was better to listen to it. Maybe it had a lead.

"If we find a puppet down here or an army of puppets, you're on your own," she warned as she took a step down into the catacombs. She hated puppets. She watched the light travel to the center of the catacomb and illuminate the room. "Maybe it's trying to suggest a wedding venue for you. Nothing says romancing death like a room made entirely of skulls." Zatanna remained stationary now as the ball of light explored the room. It stopped at one of the crevasse and refused to move. "Come on, let's go see what that's about."

SAM: "You can bribe a house?" he asked, not actually sure if she was serious or joking at this point. When you lived in a world of magic and superheroes and living houses, just about anything was possible. "Oh, I should've known." He laughed.

He nodded when she said it was to be expected. Honestly, it was surprising that anyone let them spend time like this together without supervision at this point with how many things had gone wrong. Sam just couldn't tell Zatanna know, and more often than not, he was just as excited to try things with her. Dean was probably regretting not taking Zatanna up on her offer now. Even if he couldn't have talked them out of this, he might've been able to convince them to wait, or he would've been another level-headed person to back them up. "Can the archangels actually get here, or is Shadowcrest just going to keep dodging them?" He wasn't sure what was faster, an archangel or a magical sentient house. He wasn't sure if the door that had opened up even actually was a part of the house or if it just opened up into somewhere else in the world.

"I can bat off some puppets for you," he chuckled. "Just as long as you handle any clowns if there are any down there." At least they could handle each other's fears, but he doubted that there were any down here unless the house was just pranking them. That wasn't the kind of break he needed from his research. He smiled at Zatanna's suggestion of a wedding venue. "I'm pretty sure marriage is gonna be off the table for a while now," he noted. "But I'll consider it for the future." After everything that happened, he knew Charlie wasn't ready for that sort of thing right now. William was too painful of a reminder of how badly her last marriage had gone, and they were dealing with enough other stuff now, especially with her being the new Death and the fact that they couldn't really touch for long without her starting to kill him.

He watched as the light Zatanna created moved around the room. He'd thought before that it was just a light to illuminate their way, but it was apparently doing more than that since it seemed to act on its own. He walked over to the spot where the light stopped. The crevasse was just big enough for them to be able to fit through. "Rock, paper, scissors for who goes first?" he asked, holding his fist on his palm.

ZATANNA: "If you know what she wants you definitely can. One time I had to paint the whole exterior an ugly beige color because she insisted it's what she wanted." She hadn't and Zee had to change it back almost the very next day, but Shadowcrest always had a personality of her own. She grimaced when Sam asked if Shadowcrest was going to be nice and let the Archangels come in and save their asses. "For her sake, I hope so. If something happens to me, the title of the house goes to Zach which would make him her keeper." It was probably something neither Shadowcrest nor Zach wanted. "He's been doing better honestly. I expected a lot more emergency calls to clean up after him when he told me he was going on tour with his girlfriend." She was sure whatever improvements he made in life would go right down the tube if she died, so it was best to avoid that.

"Deal," she agreed. At least the odds of them running into either puppets or clowns was slim down here. So far it was just bones as far as the eye could see. She tried to keep an eye on where she stepped because it was clear some of the bones were older and ready to turn to dust if any sort of weight was placed on them. She could tell that he was sad that marriage was off the table for now. "At least you guys can start fresh," she offered. "Her literal demon is dead and so is yours. Maybe it's a sign that good things are coming." They just had to keep Sam alive long enough to experience the good. "Speaking of..." she leaned in conspiratorially. "Have you heard about Mazifer?" Sam had to have heard by now. Lucifer wouldn't shut up about it.

She glanced wearily into the crevasse but she couldn't see anything past where it ended. The bones beneath her shifted and she grabbed onto the wall, which was also made of bones, for support. She shuddered and withdrew her hand as the bones settled again. "Well, that's definitely not the sturdiest hole in the wall." Whoever went in first would need to be careful not to cause an avalanche of bones. She nodded when he suggested rock, paper, scissors. She held out her fist in her palm and on the chant of shoot she held out rock.

SAM: "How'd you figure that one out?" he asked. Sure the house could open doors or choose not to let anyone in or out, but he had to think it took some effort to get the message across that you wanted your exterior to be painted in beige. It wasn't beige now, so he guessed Shadowcrest changed her mind again. Zatanna at least seemed to do well at meeting Shadowcrest's needs as much as the house was trying to help her now. "Does Zach know that?" Sam wasn't sure how he would've handled being a keeper of this place at this point. If it didn't take Zatanna's death to get there, would he have been able to take care of the place? Like Zatanna was saying, he'd started being at least a little more responsible, enough where he wasn't causing problems anyways where Zatanna had to deal with it. He hadn't heard about any problems on Thorn's end either. He kept in contact with her regularly just to see how she was doing, especially with Zach training her, and to see if she needed any extra tips, but so far, she was doing well. "They're coming back soon, aren't they?" One of the good parts about them being on tour was that they weren't here in the middle of everything, but once they got back, it'd potentially start getting more dangerous for them again.

He nodded when she explained that they could start off fresh. "Yeah, it's nice that they're gone," he agreed. He was glad that he didn't have to worry about that other Sam taking him over anymore and that she no longer had to worry about Will coming after her anymore. They were safe in that respect, but they were far from out of the woods. "It'd be nicer though if I could actually even hold her without it killing me. You got anything for that?" Things might've been a little bit easier for them if they could actually comfort each other. He chuckled as she asked about Mazifer. "Is there anyone who hasn't heard about them at this point? It's good they figured that out before everything went down."

Seeing the bones shift as Zatanna touched the wall didn't make going through this feel any easier, but he wasn't one to shy away from anything like this. He bounced his fist in his palm three times before holding out two fingers on them. He lost. "Alright, here goes nothing." He carefully moved towards the crevasse, hunching down and trying to keep himself small to not bump into anything. Halfway through, his shoulder knocked off one of the bones, and it shattered to the ground. He froze for a second, waiting to see if that was the only one, but nothing else happened. He got through the rest of the way without collapsing the whole opening. "Your turn," he breathed out, turning around to look at what they had coming next. He held up his phone's flashlight, but it was cutting in and out. He was only getting short glimpses of what was there. The hall was narrow, though it looked wide enough where he didn't need to worry too much about knocking into things like the crevasse he'd just come through, but it looked like there were more bones than before that were more than just decorative. People had died coming through here. Hopefully they'd have better luck.

ZATANNA: "Trust me...she let's you know. I got out of the shower and she had the specifics of the color she wanted written on the condensation in the mirror." Shadowcrest knew how to communicate her needs better than most of the men Zatanna had dated. "If Zach paid attention when my dad's attorney was reading through the will, yes." The will was pretty specific about the transition of ownership of Shadowcrest, but most of Zatanna's memories from that week were more than a little fuzzy so she imagined Zach's were scattered too. "Yeah, I think the tour wraps up in October. He said something about spending the end of the month in Oakhaven. If I could keep him out of New York until we have Belphegor's curse fixed that would be ideal. At this rate, we'll either be very old or very dead by the time Bells accepts what we've found." That was assuming Belphegor didn't get consumed upon finding out the truth.

"So, now we're pretending you aren't turned on by the death touch?" she teased, but she knew where he was coming from. He might not have minded a little deathly buzz, but Charlie had clearly been uncomfortable with it. She hesitated to suggest any power dampening tools because Charlie was now tied to the Natural Order. Dampening her power could potentially weaken the Veil and throw off the balance. After the ghost situation last year, Zee wanted to avoid that. "Dampening tools pose too much of a risk for her, but maybe we can find some way to concentrate her powers through an object like a scythe." One had been created for Azrael and it was currently embedded in Charlie. So, maybe they could create one for Charlie too. "We'll probably need a divine object for her to focus it into. Michael won't say it but I think he's getting push back from Uriel about what you and I are up to lately." Uriel didn't know they were working on Belphegor's curse but he did know they were using a lot of Heaven's resources for something that Michael kept vague and unspecific.

"I'm pretty sure Lucifer's making it his mission and goal to make sure everyone knows," she laughed. She wished she could unsubscribe from the conversation sometimes, but it was interesting to see the effect it had on Maze from time to time. Lucifer was very open about his affection and the demon wasn't used to that. "At least Cupid can count this as a win." Maybe they'd have a few more wins in for Cupid by the end of the year if they could just find the last piece of the tablet.

"Age before beauty then," she winked, seeing that he'd lost the game of rock, paper, scissors. She was relieved not to have to go first, but she still found herself holding her breath as Sam made his way through the crevasse. She grimaced as he knocked into a bone, but the structure stayed intact. She hoped she'd have the same luck. Her orb of light followed as she started walking through the crevasse. She was much smaller than Sam so the risk of her knocking into one of the masses was less likely but the whole thing gave her a sensation of claustrophobia as she slowly made her way through.

While she and Sam were focused on getting through this crevasse, the skeletal remains of those who'd attempted to go through the hallway just behind Sam were doing a thing of their own. Skeletal arms slithered quietly to find torsos, heads, and legs until they had created several fully formed skeletons. As Zatanna emerged from the crevasse unscathed, the newly formed skeletons emerged just behind Sam. For a moment, Zatanna didn't notice them - her own orb of light had blocked her vision. But as the orb moved, she could see one of the skeletons drawing a sword to stab Sam.

"Sam!" she cried out and shoved him out of the way. The skeleton's sword stuck into the wall of bones rather than into Sam's chest; unfortunately, Sam's body also hit a wall. The bones creaked under the weight of the blow and slowly the wall started coming down and the room around them rumbled. If they didn't get out of here soon, they would be buried under bones. Luckily, Zee could see what appeared to be light at the end of the hallway. If they could just get there, they might be on more stable ground (literally). She quickly helped Sam up and handed him a femur. "I hope you're good at baseball because we've got some heads to crack. If you can clear the path, I can hold the room together long enough for us to get through this."

SAM: "That's . . . terrifying." It sounded like something out of a horror movie, but then again, the whole idea of a sentient house was something from a horror movie. "He was never all that great about paying attention to details until recently too," Sam pointed out. He wondered if it still would've been a surprise to him, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that. "Maybe you'll get lucky, and they'll find another Scooby Doo mystery while they're there that keeps them away for a while," he joked. It wouldn't be long enough for them to deal with Belphegor most likely, but it'd be something.

"I never said I wasn't," he teased right back. If he died from trying to hold Charlie, he would've considered it worth it, but he didn't want to do that to her again. Even just coming down here with Zatanna was pushing it, but he was trying to be as careful as he could be while also sticking with and supporting Zatanna and his own curiosity. "I meant more something that just protects me rather than putting a crutch on her, but that works too." He wasn't surprised to hear Michael was getting push back, especially from Uriel. That name always came up as one of their biggest opposers. "At least he could actually tell Uriel that the divine object this time would be for the new death. There's nothing he needs to hide there, but he'll have to tell Uriel about Belphegor relatively soon anyways." There weren't many people who didn't know at this point.

"I'm sure Maze appreciates that." He laughed. It might've been obvious that she cared for him, but he couldn't imagine she liked everyone seeing her having that kind of vulnerability for him. He'd made sure not to make any remarks on the vulnerability he'd seen in her when Charlie was dying. "Hopefully we can give her more wins by finding the last tablet when we get back." Having all of them and being able to find the solution would at least give her some hope for Belphegor.

He rolled his eyes at her comment before he'd proceeded, but at least they both got through okay. After that wasn't as great. He grunted as Zatanna shoved him into the wall, covering his head as bones came down over him. His body ached, but it'd be nothing compared to the pain of if he stayed there any longer. He quickly took Zatanna's hand and stood back up. The bone she handed him wiggled and writhed like it was alive, but it didn't seem that stable. He used it to hit the skeleton that had tried to attack him, and the femur practically turned to dust just like the bones in the crevasse. It was enough to discombobulate the skeleton though, so Sam took their sword out of the wall and moved forward through the hall. He swiped left and right through the living skeletons while Zatanna kept the hall from caving in on them. Some of the skeletons got a few hits in on him that left him with a few scrapes, but nothing serious as far as he could tell. As they reached the end of the skeleton hall, Sam made sure Zatanna got past him before smashing the walls and letting them crash down to block the way from the living skeletons. "Hopefully they don't get through that, but we should keep going."

ZATANNA: "Hey, it's better than charades," she laughed. At least the house was upfront with what she needed. Having to guess her needs based on the shutters fluttering or something would've been much harder. "As long as he doesn't auction off the house on the magic market when it falls into his possession, it should be fine." The last thing she needed was a place like this falling into the hands of someone who intended to do harm. "If only," she laughed. "If they do, I hope it's not another mystery that leads them to the void." Zatanna knew the closer they got to solving this, the more likely it was that the void could come for people closest to her to try to deter her from pushing further. She hoped that at least now that Zach was aware of the void; he'd be able to recognize the danger and be better equipped to fight back against anything it might throw his way. She bit her lip for a moment, in deep thought. Maybe she should let go of the hold on his power. He might need it in order to defend himself from the danger she brought into their lives. But then again, it was less than a year since the Salem Incident. Could she trust him with that level of power? She wasn't sure yet.

"Protecting you from death might be harder than figuring out Belphegor's curse," she joked. It was her way of coping with the fact that someone she considered family had just died again. He'd been luckier than her Father, but still every near death brought back the painful memories of the man she couldn't save. "I don't think Uriel's super thrilled she's the new death either," Zatanna admitted. "He's not going to hurt her or anything, but based on what Michael was telling me, Uriel thinks that honor should have been placed on an angel, not a reaper." Uriel had some very old school ideas. Zee figured that was because he really didn't interact with new environments. She didn't know how the conversation was going to go when it came time to tell Uriel about Belphegor.

Sentient skeletons were coming at them from all directions. Zatanna was able to blast a few back with a spell as Sam used the sword to clear a path forward. The floor below them was incredibly unstable and Zatanna almost lost her footing a few times but she was able to propel herself forward. She did her best to hold the room together until they reached the end of the hall. She let her spell go as Sam smashed the wall and the skeleton hallway caved in entirely, burying all of the skeletons under a pile of bone and ash. "What in the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was that?" she sighed as she dusted herself off.

She looked around at the open space they had just entered. It looked nothing like the bone temple behind them. This place looked more like an oasis of some kind. A lavish, well-kept field of green stood before them speckled with Japanese-style koi ponds and framed by whimsical wisteria trees. It was disarming but more importantly, it felt divine. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," she whispered. "This place looks like the way Michael described the Garden of Eden. There's something divine in here too." She could feel its energy vibrating throughout the fields. After all the death behind them, this place felt like life and creation itself. Unbeknownst to Zatanna and Sam, what they were seeing was a mirage. The whole room was a glamour. "Come on, maybe it's the tablet or one of the other items Heaven lost during the war," she suggested as she began to walk further into the garden.

SAM: "I guess it communicates more than some people do." He knew that he struggled sometimes himself with telling people how he felt about things, although that was mainly only when he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. He didn't feel like falling apart was something he could do with everyone, even with some people he was closer to, sometimes especially them. "And if he does?" Sam wasn't sure exactly how much harm someone could do with this house. He imagined it was bad, but he didn't know how bad. "At least they know about the Void enough to know that it isn't something they should be messing with. They backed off well enough when we actually told them about it." Hopefully, they kept up that kind of logic.

"Death my girlfriend or death as in dying?" he joked. They were one in the same at this point. If he died, Charlie would be upset with him, and he was trying to avoid that. Even going through this catacomb, he was trying to be as careful as he could be, and he'd told Dean about it at least. He scowled as Zatanna explained that Uriel wasn't happy about Charlie being Death. "I doubt any of the other angels could've handled it as well as Charlie," he said defensively. She might've been struggling right now, but he didn't think anyone else deserved the promotion besides her. He was sure all of the other reapers would've agreed too. Azrael had favored Charlie too, and he was sure she would've picked her too. She just understood the importance of the balance, and she knew the weight of making some hard decisions. She was also closest to Belphegor, and if Death was needed in fixing Belphegor's curse, they'd have the easiest time with her.

Sam tried to catch his breath once they were out of harms way for a minute. "I'm guessing it's a sign we're going the right way?" he tried to joke. Trouble like that usually was always a deterrent to something much more important. He just didn't know what it was supposed to be taking them to that the house thought they needed. Did it know where the tablet was maybe? The last two tablets had similar dangerous protection devices, but so would other magical artifacts. They'd have to see.

The new area was a surprising contrast to what they'd just dealt with, and Sam had to look back at the wall of bones to make sure it was even still there. It didn't match the same feelings. This garden was bright and light feeling. It was beautiful, and like Zatanna was saying, it felt divine. "If it is the tablet, we need to be careful," he warned her. All of this was beautiful, but he'd had recent experience of being stuck in his own fantasy worlds. Just because it looked nice didn't mean it was good, and his gut was uneasy about all of this. Regardless, he followed carefully behind Zatanna. At the very least, he could watch her back if something went wrong and this divine garden turned into a garden of nightmares.

Nothing really went wrong as they walked through the garden, and it just led them to a pedestal in the middle of an opening, on top of which was the wedding ring he'd gotten for Charlie. His heart skipped a beat. "How is that here?" He swore it was back in the bunker. He felt an intense pull to it, and a need to take it back. It wasn't supposed to be here. Shit. That was the trap, wasn't it? And Zatanna was already reaching for it. "Zatanna, stop! It's not real!" But it was too late. She'd grabbed hold of it.

ZATANNA: "He won't auction it, but if he does I'll find a way to haunt him for the rest of his life," she promised. Zach spent time in this house too as a kid. He knew it wasn't just the Zatara's ancestral home. "But then again he might try to pull a you and Dean and try to use something in here to bargain for my return. In which case, if you're alive, I'm going to need you to shut that shit down." She hoped that Sam was right about Zach and Thorn backing off of things if it appeared to lead to the Void, but the Void also didn't always work in overt ways, it couldn't. What if they didn't recognize it as a Void trap? She just had to believe they were too far away for the Void to pull any shit at the moment.

"Honestly if you die again, you'll need protection from her too. You're definitely not resting in peace," she laughed. Charlie would lose her shit, especially if they died doing something stupid and unnecessary. Zatanna was doing her best to avoid that. But coming down here was clearly not their brightest idea. She had to believe though that she could get them out if anything happened. All she had to do was call up the door. She smiled softly as he defended Charlie's right to ascend to the position she acquired. "Honestly, I think he's more pissed Lucifer made the call than anything else. Heaven seems pretty territorial about the veil even though it's neutral ground." That was mostly because for thousands of centuries, an angel governed that neutral ground so naturally heaven considered it a part of their domain. And Lucifer making a call over their domain pinched Uriel the wrong way. Michael didn't seem to care; in fact, he seemed relieved that the veil had a keeper again.

Zatanna observed the area around them, excitement growing in her chest. She was beginning to worry they'd never find the last tablet, but all of these magical deterrents and the feeling of this room akin to what happened when they tried to find the other tablets. "Careful is my middle name," she grinned. It definitely wasn't but still she proceeded with caution throughout the garden. Some of the plants did not look familiar so she was careful not to touch anything. She'd already been poisoned once. There was no need to repeat that experience again.

As she walked through the garden, she felt a warm sort of feeling. The pull of this place was strong and she found herself wanting to linger in the garden forever. She was only propelled forward by Sam's movements now as she followed him. The path led them to a pedestal that seemed to be at the center of the garden. Zatanna looked at it curiously before recognizing the object on the pedestal. "No way!" she grinned. It was one of her dad's old tophats. She'd been looking for it for ages. It contained a portal to one of her favorite pocket universes. She knew Sam would get a kick out of it and Dean would too if they managed to get it back to him.

Before Sam could stop her, she grabbed the tophat off the pedestal.  As she did so, a wave of wind swept through the room almost as if a spell had been broken. And to Sam, that's exactly what happened. The garden disappeared before him and the room showed its true face; skulls everywhere - it was just an extension of the catacombs. Zatanna wasn't as lucky. Her eyes were glowing an intense blue as if she was under some sort of spell. For her, the mirage of the beautiful garden remained. She couldn't understand why Sam was cautioning her to stop or saying none of it was real. The hat was very much real. "What are you talking about?" she asked. She took her own top hat off and placed it on the pedestal before putting on the one she believed belonged to her father. "All that effort for a tophat. Shadowcrest really is just overly sentimental sometimes," she grinned. It was clear she didn't really mind.

"Why would she--" Zatanna stopped midsentence. Behind Sam, in the far off distance, there was a shadow was forming, a familiar shadow. She sidestepped a little to get a better look and the shadow became even clearer. "Shadowcrest you son of a bitch!" she grinned. Not only had the house taken her to her father's tophat...it had taken her directly to her father. Or so she thought. Truthfully, there was nothing there in that corner except for more skulls. Giovanni Zatara died in a way that destroyed his soul entirely. It was impossible for him to be here, but Zatanna wanted desperately to believe he was. Without even thinking about it, Zatanna started sprinting toward what she thought was her father.

SAM: "At least he'd have you back then," Sam joked. He could see Zach thinking he might piss off Zatanna out of her grave enough to come back, but with the way things were going, Zatanna wouldn't just be a random ghost. Michael would ensure she'd go to heaven, and she'd have nearly unlimited resources to still stay in touch with her loved ones. "Who says I won't be doing that before he does?" Afterlives worked slightly differently here, so he didn't think he'd actually need to. If any of them actually died, it wouldn't be that bad now, though it still wouldn't be the same. "I'll look out for him," he promised her. What was one more kid to look out for?

"I don't plan to at least." He didn't want to upset her more, but he also knew what his life was like. He constantly came across dangerous situations. It wasn't always possible to prepare for everything, though he had to admit he could've prepared himself more for this before coming down here. If the house really wanted them to come down here, it should've been willing to wait for them to get backup first. Still, it was a little too late now. They were here, and he didn't think they were going back when they were this close to whatever this was. "He's probably just pissed he's never involved in these things, so he wants to put his control somewhere. Lucifer made the best call there was." If there was some heavenly court about that, Sam would defend Lucifer, but he doubted it'd come to that, especially when Michael didn't seem against it.

"Zatanna Careful Zatara? Really fucks with the alliteration." He frowned jokingly, though really he was concerned. Her reaction to the ring was strange, and it only furthered his belief that this was some sort of trap. She clearly wasn't seeing the same thing as him. He covered his face as the wind whipped around, but Zatanna didn't seem to be bothered by it. The illusion was gone, and the truth was apparent. The tablet was trying to kill them. He might've been excited about finding the tablet if it didn't have Zatanna under it's spell. "I'm saying it's not real. You're holding the tablet, not a tophat." Sam wasn't even sure if the tablet let her hear him anymore.

As Zatanna stopped, Sam looked behind him, but there was nothing there besides skulls. He couldn't tell what it was making her see, and Zatanna didn't give any indication of what it might be. As Zatanna started running past him, Sam tried to grab her arm. "Zatanna, stop!" he shouted, hoping his voice might get through to her. He could've grabbed the tablet from her, but he didn't want to get pulled into the illusion too. He just kept her from hurting herself by holding her arms down. "Zatanna, whatever you see, it's not there."

"You're right. That kid wouldn't even let me rest in peace," she joked. Zatanna wouldn't let herself rest in peace. She liked to keep busy so she didn't have too much downtime to think about how much actually hung in the balance. "So then I'd have to haunt you too," she laughed although she was pretty sure Sam was at least slightly serious about using something here as a bargaining chip to get her back if he needed. "Ain't no rest for the wicked. Belphegor would be disappointed in both of you for not letting me sleep."

She believed him when he said he wasn't planning on dying, but then again neither of them ever planned that sort of thing. Danger just sort of arose. They at least did what they could to keep each other safe in those situations. "If Uriel's taking the news about Charlie like this, I'm just worried about how he'll take the news that Belphegor's a ticking time bomb. I don't think he has the means to wage an attack, but I also don't know if Belphegor would be willing to fight him if they were attacked." It was easier to let someone kill you than it was to kill yourself in most cases.

As soon as the tablet was in her hands, she could no longer focus on anything but the shadow figure of her father behind Sam. Sam himself was saying something, but she wasn't really catching it. It was like he was speaking a language she didn't understand. It didn't matter though. All that mattered to Zatanna now was reaching her father in time and opening the door to get them all home. She was getting closer and closer to reaching her dad when Sam grabbed ahold of her and jerked her back. "No!" she yelled at him, still clinging desperately to the tablet which appeared as a tophat to her. She was afraid if she let it go, her father would go with it. "Let me go! I have to get to him!" her voice sounded desperate. "I have to save him this time. I have to make this right. Please!" Her father was getting further and further away. "NO!"

Zatanna made direct eye contact with Sam, her brows furrowed in a furious manner. She gave no warning and no apologies as she yelled out a spell to throw him back. She sent him flying into a wall of skulls. She didn't wait to observe as the skulls fell on top of him, instead she started sprinting after her father. She didn't have to run far. He was waiting for her at the edge of some kind of meadow. Only, it wasn't really a meadow. Zatanna was standing on a cliff made of skulls. What she thought was Giovanni Zatara was nothing more than the jagged bones below. If she took another step forward to be with her father, she would fall and be impaled by those very bones. The tablet wanted blood. It wanted death. It wanted her.

SAM: "He'd know what you want clearly." Sam didn't believe Zatanna would want to be resurrected in any way that upset the balance or killed someone, and just about all options did that. However, he did know that Zatanna would want to continue helping people even in death. "Belphegor would also be happy to still have you around. They can't see you if you're in heaven.

Sam grimaced as she mentioned how Uriel would take the news about Belphegor. Sam wished he could say Bells had made more progress, but he didn't know if it would be enough for them to defend themself. "He did kill their twin, right? Maybe that anger would be enough to keep them both alive and fighting until someone came to stop them." He hoped it didn't come to that.

He wished it didn't come to this either. No matter how much he spoke to her, she wasn't listening. The tablet had too much of a hold on her. Still, he tried. "There's nothing to get to. There's no one to save. Zatanna, just listen to me. It's not real!" He should've seen it coming from the look in her eyes that she wasn't going to let him stop her. His body flew back and hit the wall. He heard a crack, but he couldn't tell if that was his skull or the ones falling on top of him as he blacked out for a moment.

He wasn't out long, but when he opened his eyes again, Zatanna was on the edge of a cliff. Luckily she wasn't the only one who had magic. Sam pushed himself up, skulls clattering down his back. "Aeroga." He called out, and a gust of wind blew from in front of Zatanna, sending her back towards Sam. He moved as quickly as he could despite the pain he was in (He was getting too old for this.), and he charged toward Zatanna. The tablet had thankfully been knocked out of her hands, but he didn't know if that stopped the tablet's power or not. He threw his jacket over top of it, so they'd be able to pick it up later. He wasn't as strong magically as Zatanna, but he did have more over her in terms of brute strength. He held her tightly with a hand covering her mouth, so she couldn't recite any spells. "Zatanna, please. I know it hurts, but that wasn't him. The tablet was just trying to trick you into killing yourself."

ZATANNA: She laughed when he brought up that Belphegor wouldn't be happy if she died. "Did you just reverse Cupid me? Because that's not fair."  She grimaced at the thought of Belphegor and Uriel fighting. "I hope Uriel isn't dumb enough to attack them without a plan of his own. On the bright side, his energy is easily felt on earth. Most of the demons down there are waiting for him to get the balls to show up. He won't have much time to fight Belphegor." If anything it would be a fruitless endeavor.  She'd met Uriel only a handful of times but he struck her as someone who was at least pragmatic enough to see he'd be easily outnumbered if he tried a direct attack.

Unfortunately while Zatanna could plan ahead for a lot of things this wasn't one of them. When Shadowcrest brought them here, Zee hadn't anticipated this possibility. Sam was knocked out and the tablet had a strong grip on her reality. The imagery it formed for her was like a siren song. "I'm sorry," she whispered to what she thought was her Father, but really she was talking to air. There was nothing around her but skulls and nothing below but the jagged cliff's edge. "You were right," she told her dad. "That séance was dangerous. I shouldn't have gotten involved. I just wanted to help. All I did was make it worse...I'm sorry..." Tears were streaming down her face now. "Why didn't you just let me take the consequence of that spell? It was my fault. I should be the one who's gone, not you."

"I'm not gone, my dear," her father playacted. "I'm right here." He held out his arms as if to welcome her home. In that moment, Zatanna wanted nothing more than to be hugged by her father and to feel safe again. She was just about to take a step forward and off the ledge when a gust of wind knocked her back. The tablet fell out of her hands and she immediately felt disoriented. "No!" she screamed and tried to push away from Sam as the vision of the meadow and her father started to fade away. The hallucination the tablet created for her was fading so quickly and a few moments later Zatanna was able to see the truth of the matter. She was in a cave of skulls and still very close to the edge. The whole thing was a ruse. She was full body sobbing now, but she wasn't fighting Sam anymore. As he let go of her, she melted into him and continued to cry. "It's all my fault. I was a stupid kid and he told me it was too dangerous and I didn't listen. I didn't listen and now he's gone and I can't find him anywhere."

SAM: "Yeah, but you'd deserve it," he giggled. They both had issues with being too willing to die for the cause and needed reminders of what would happen to everyone else if they did. "I'd hope he isn't too, but you know, always prepare for the worst." For them, the worst was essentially apocalyptic, but she was right. As soon as he stepped foot on earth, the fallen would feel it and come after him. The only place he was really safe was heaven. If only they could've been safe here.

Sam held on tightly as Zatanna screamed and tried to push away, but she didn't get out of his reach. He wouldn't let her fall to her death for some stupid hallucinations. The good thing was that he could tell by the look in her eyes that the hallucinations were fading. The sad part was that he could tell how much she just wanted to believe it was real. He was sorry he had to take her out of it, but it had to be done. He hugged her as she cried, petting her hair and holding her close. "I'm sorry, Zee. You made a mistake, but it was his choice to do what he did too. I'm sure he considered it worth it to protect you because he loved you. I know it doesn't feel fair, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you're alive." They needed to get back out of here, but he didn't want to make Zatanna send them out. She was dealing with a lot right now. He sent out a small prayer to Michael instead. Hey, Michael, Zatanna and I ran into some trouble. Shadowcrest sent us into some catacombs, and we found the last tablet. It messed with Zatanna's head, but she's okay physically. He hoped the archangel heard him.

MICHAEL: He was in Baghdad meeting with parts of his regiment that were stationed there. Everything was going well and his soldiers were making valid assessments and possible solutions to a water crisis that had arisen in the area. About halfway into the meeting, Michael felt a sharp pain in his temple. He always kept the channel of connection open in case Zatanna needed him. This time, it was Sam's voice that came through. They'd gotten into some trouble while researching tonight. "Excuse me," Michael pardoned himself from his unit and made his way out of the tents. Once he was out of their eyesight, he took off into the sky. He followed the energy of the prayer all the way to Sam and Zatanna. He came crashing through the ceiling of the catacombs. Skulls began to fall like raindrops, but Michael held out his wings like an umbrella to stop them from hitting either Sam or Zatanna. He landed in front of Sam and Zatanna, his eyes scanning the room to assess the situation. They were both physically fine, just as Sam said, but something had clearly transpired here and it shook Zatanna to the core. He had half a mind to tell her that this was why she was supposed to wait for back up before adventuring off, but he didn't. That was a conversation for another time. He knelt down beside her and brushed aside her hair. "It's all right," he assured her as Sam transferred her over to him.

"Come on, let's get you two home." He picked Zatanna up off the ground and that's when he noticed the tablet under the jacket Sam had thrown over it. It was still radiating a crazy energy. He picked it up off the ground, still in its wrappings, and placed it in one of the pockets of his army issued uniform. The tablet must have registered that it was in the presence of an Archangel and therefore at risk of being taken from its place of hiding because the entire room began to rumble and shake much like the island had when Raphael removed the last tablet. "Shadowcrest, the door please!" A door manifested before them just as the rooms adjacent to them began to rumble and collapse in on themselves. The door swung open as if to invite them in. "Go before we're buried," he told Sam.

ZATANNA: Zatanna wished she felt the same but in that moment it was hard to be grateful that she was alive. Sam was right, of course. It was her Father's decision to take on the consequences of her spell, but still it didn't absolve the guilt she felt. She often threw herself into her work and into all of these missions as if all of her good deeds could make up for this one mistake she'd made, but it never felt like enough. It never felt like she was living up to the second chance her dad gave her. Would it ever be enough? She wasn't sure. She was still crying when she heard something crash above them. It sounded like the ceiling was caving in and for a moment, she hoped it would bury her under the rubble, but a part of that was just the after affects of the tablet talking. Although she was anticipating being buried alive, that didn't happen. No skulls came crashing down on them. Instead, she felt Michael's hand on her back reassuring her that it would be okay. She melted into him, still crying as he picked her up. "I'm sorry," she apologized. He didn't seem mad at the moment, just concerned. "I'm so sorry." She held on tightly to him as the room began to rumble. Thankfully, Shadowcrest listened to his commands and manifested an exit for them. Zatanna hoped that at the very least everything she and Sam had been through today would at least be worth it in the end.

SAM: He held Zatanna until Michael showed up, which didn't take long, though he'd expected him to just appear there, not drop down from the ceiling. He covered both himself and Zatanna from the falling rubble, but he didn't end up needing to since Michael's wings protected them. "Thanks for coming." He let out a breath as Michael took Zatanna out of his arms, glad that Michael wasn't just scolding them for coming here. Not yet anyways. He was sure both Michael and Charlie were going to be upset with them once they had a chance to recover. Sam was still bleeding, and that would need to be healed. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about it affecting a barrier in his head anymore. He winced as he stood up, his body aching everywhere, but he didn't have a moment to relax before Michael had picked up the tablet. Didn't anyone watch Indiana Jones? That still existed in this universe, right? "Yeah, I'm going," he agreed before returning back to Shadow crest. He sat back down in the chair he'd been in at the start of the night and pulled out his phone to find a few missed texts from Dean.

[sent message > Sam]: The house hold you to go so you just listened to it? Are you high?? Did you two smoke something?

[sent message > Sam]: No she doesn’t count and neither does the sentient house!

[sent message > Sam]: Yeah, that’s super responsible. Not like you just died last week or something. Look, just have her open a portal and bring me through.

Well, it was better late than never to respond, right?

[sent message > Dean]: Okay, so I didn't die, but listen, it was a good thing we did what the house wanted

[sent message > Dean]: We found the last tablet

[sent message > Dean]: We're admittedly a little worse for wear, but we got out alive.

After responding to Dean, he sent another message to Charlie.

[sent message > Charlie]: *Hey, idk if Dean might've told you already, but Shadowcrest sent us on a little adventure. I tried to be as careful as I could be, but I'm sorry I got a little banged up. I'm okay though. Zatanna's pretty emotional, but Michael's here to help her with that. I love you.

Once he'd informed everyone that he needed to, he brought his attention back to Michael and Zatanna. "She's okay though, right? Nothing lasting other than . . . you know?" She'd still have that emotional damage for a long time. It was unavoidable.

MICHAEL & CHARLIE: "It's all right," he replied when Zatanna apologized. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, we just need to get you home." There was no doubt about the fact that they'd have to talk about this. It was reckless and dangerous and although it yielded results, it didn't make their methods ok. They wanted to fix this for Belphegor but even Belphegor themself would be upset if the two of them died on their behalf. He waited until Sam was through the door before he carried Zatanna through the threshold. The door shut quickly behind them and Michael could hear the final sounds of the catacombs crashing in on themselves.

He followed the darkened hallway until they reached the study once again. While Sam busied himself answering the calls and texts he'd received while in the catacombs, Michael did a quick check of Zatanna to make sure the tablet hadn't done any further damage. The heavy energy from the tablet lingered around her, but he hoped if he put distance between her and the tablet it would dissipate. He nodded when Sam asked if she was okay. "As far as I can tell there's no lasting damage. But it was a close call so I'd like you to spend the night in the infirmary for observation," he told Zatanna as he pressed a kiss to her forehead to reassure her he wasn't upset.

Charlie was in the veil on the verge of a panic attack herself when she got Sam's message. She'd been feeling out of sorts since Sam and Zatanna discovered the tablet, not that she knew that was her reason for the feeling. As soon as she got Sam's text, she was flooded with both relief and concern. She knew he was supposed to be at Shadowcrest so she stepped through the Veil and into the study.

"Sam!" she called out to him. She ran toward him to hug him, but stopped before she touched him. She still didn't have solid enough control of her death touch, but she desperately wanted to hug him. "You're bleeding! Are you okay?" she asked as her gloved hand gently hovered above some of the tendered and bruised flesh.

Michael turned his attention to Sam who was bleeding from the forehead. He held his palm over the wound to heal the scraps and cuts Sam had received in whatever tussle occurred in the catacombs. "Did you touch the tablet?" he asked. If Sam had, he'd have to spend the night in the infirmary too.

ZATANNA: She felt numb as Michael examined her. She knew what the tablet tried to do, but the fact that it nearly killed her wasn't the thing that upset her. It was the fact that she had to relieve the feeling of her father being ripped away from her all over again. She thought she'd made some progress with this grief, but right now she felt as emotionally raw as she had during his funeral service. She generally didn't like having to stay in the infirmary, but she didn't have the energy to argue against it. It was probably for the best. Although she wasn't holding the tablet anymore she could still feel it's pull. Not only that, but the rope burns around her wrist from where she'd attached herself to Belgirel were starting to hurt again. It was less painful than when she'd originally done it, but she could still register the discomfort. "Okay," she nodded before closing her eyes and burying her head in his chest as he comforted her. She stayed there until he'd gone over to Sam to heal him. Zatanna grimaced at the injury. "Sorry," she apologized to Sam. She didn't remember doing it to him, but she was sure she had. "I guess that makes us even now."

SAM: He was relieved to hear Michael say that Zatanna was going to be okay. This could've easily been a situation like the last tablet where someone died, but both of them were fine, at least physically. He felt bad for what Zatanna had been through. He didn't know everything she'd seen, but from what she'd said while hallucinating and afterwards, he at least knew it involved seeing her father again. He didn't tell Michael this though. It was Zatanna's right to tell him however much she wanted to share, and he imagined that her talking about it with him might help her find some more comfort in it. Sam would always be open if she wanted to talk about it regardless.

It didn't take Charlie long to show up after he'd texted her. He wondered if she'd been expecting a text from him because she'd been worrying. She looked stressed when she showed up, but he was just glad to see her. "Charlie!" He grinned. He stood up from the chair, and rushed to meet her before she stopped herself. Right. Her touch would kill him. He was obviously disappointed from the realization, but he was still glad she was here. "It hurts a little, and I'm a little dizzy," he admitted. "Zatanna threw me into a wall and knocked me out for a minute." Linda had been trying to get him to stop downplaying his pain, so he tried to be honest about it now. However, it really wasn't that serious. With just a little bit of Michael's healing, Sam was sure he was right as rain.

"No." Sam shook his head. "I tried to stop Zatanna from touching it too, but she thought it was something else. I used a spell on her to get it away from her, so I wouldn't have to grab it." Of course, he'd covered it with his jacket too for the same reason. "Will I be able to get my jacket back?" he asked. He really didn't want to have to buy a new one. It didn't really hold sentimental value, but it was getting cold in New York. He chuckled when Zatanna pointed out that they were even. "Yeah, I guess we are. Was this whole thing just some grand scheme to get me back?"

MICHAEL & CHARLIE: Charlie was relieved to hear that Sam wasn't hurt. She knew that all things considered, it definitely could've been worse. "No more Indiana Jones quests for you, okay?" she looked around the study. "Okay?" she asked the house. The house dropped a book on the floor in response. Charlie wasn't sure if that was a yes or no, but she picked up the book and put it back anyway.

It was unusual to get Zatanna to agree to go to the infirmary so Michael knew she was hurting. Emotional wounds were harder to heal. He wasn't sure what the tablet made her see, but he trusted she would tell him when she was ready. He didn't want to push it tonight. She needed rest. He nodded, relieved that Sam hadn't touched the tablet too. "You'll be able to get your jacket back tomorrow. If we end up having to shred it, you can bill the shop for it, but I don't think we'll need to go that far. I can see the tablet's affects getting weaker on Zatanna now." It shouldn't be a problem to get the residue off of his jacket but Lucifer probably wanted to upgrade the jacket for Sam anyway. He seemed to care a lot about that sort of thing. "Can you two manage for the night?" he asked Charlie as he picked Zatanna up.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I think Dean's on his way here." Sam might regret feeling just fine because while Michael was going easy on them for now, Dean sounded pretty pissed. He would likely hear it from Dean tonight and then Michael tomorrow.

"I'll check in with you in the morning," Michael told them. "If his condition changes, call me." He didn't think it would but he'd keep the lines of communication open in case something happened. Charlie nodded and watched Michael disappear with Zatanna. A moment later she heard the sound of the Impala pulling into the drive. "Come on, maestro," she adjusted her gloves and held out her hand to him. "Let's go face the music together."

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #╰☆☆ let me be the one to light the way and bring you home | sam ☆☆╮ #╰☆☆ no grave can hold my body down; i’ll crawl home to you | michael ☆☆╮ #discord chat #charlie: discords #sam: discords #michael: discords

[sctsunai-archived]

duskshipping.

THANK GOD I AM SUCH DUSKSHIPPING TRASH

who hogs the duvet

Yuuri. Constantly, all the time, there’s no other state of being. Yuuri is a filthy fucking blanket hog but Dennis just puts up with it.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Dennis, every day. He checks up on Yuuri occasionally and Yuuri almost never replies but Dennis is happy just to see the ‘read’ receipt. Yuuri sometimes bothers Dennis incessantly if he’s bored or lonely, I don’t give a fuck about your responsibilities, come home right now and cuddle me

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Dennis, obviously, he’s fun and creative and imaginative. Yuuri buys Dennis a gift once but the lady at the store takes him to the jewelry case because he’s clueless. 

So he gets Dennis a little silver charm bracelet and the charms are like a playing card and a magic wand and a star.

Dennis thinks it’s adorable and wears it every day and he shows it off and eventually like Shun or somebody is like “he got you jewelry was he shopping for a girl???”

Yuuri gets so intensely embarrassed about it like it’s not his fault people didn’t teach gift buying at Academia the damn store lady said it was a good idea! And he fails to live down the teasing ever and never gets Dennis another present either.

who gets up first in the morning

to everyone’s surprise, Yuuri.

Yuuri’s got shit to do and plants to tend and he’s used to the early morning soldier schedule.

but god help you if you ever wake him from a nap.

who suggests new things in bed

both of them and they’re so unabashedly dirty they’ll try almost anything once that Yuuri doesn’t veto.

Dennis will try anything.

Dennis is adventurous and Yuuri can’t even comprehend the shit he finds on the internet.

who cries at movies

Dennis. He cries his eyes out and Yuuri just.

“I can’t fucking take you anywhere, stop, hold still, oh goD CLEAN YOUR FACE, DON’T TOUCH ME”

who gives unprompted massages

Dennis. Dennis is tactile, he loves touching Yuuri and Yuuri melts at his massages? It doesn’t matter where or when, Yuuri will never protest and Dennis gets his touching time.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

They both fuss over each other in different ways.

Dennis spoils the shit out of Yuuri. Hot presses, cold presses, the tv set at the right volume, extra pillows, medicine taken on the spot for the next dose, homemade soup and blackout curtains.

Yuuri ignores Dennis is sick until he gets bad and then he awkwardly tries to copy how Dennis takes care of him and it’s awkward and uncomfortable. Dennis takes a nap and wakes up to Yuuri having turned their room into like some apothecary nightmare, there’s herbs and plants everywhere and Yuuri is putting some weird paste on his chest but he’s too sick to deal with it.

( Yuuri is smug when his stuff works better than medicine ever did, take that )

who gets jealous easiest

Look at Yuuri and tell me “jealous” isn’t a word that describes him.

Dennis cannot even hang out around Yuuya without Yuuri getting puffy and jealous about it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Yuuri likes instrumental music and that’s it.

Dennis likes everything and that’s horrifying.

Yuuri has broken no less than six stereos and two of Dennis’s phones when Dennis has played shitty American music that he can’t even understand ( because he was never taught English) like Crazy Frog and Fergalicious.

who collects something unusual

I don’t think either of them collect normal things that most people would collect.

Yuuri collects poisonous plants and carnivorous plants and any animal bones he finds, what the fuck?

Dennis collects like every shitty kiddie magic set ever. He’s got like 192 decks of cards and top hats that wouldn’t even fit on his head.

who takes the longest to get ready

Dennis’s hair always looks like a mess and that’s because sometimes he forgoes brushing it because what’s the point?

Yuuri takes 9 hours.

He takes longer than any woman on a tv show, and god forbid he see something out of place in the mirror by the door as they’re leaving, like Yuuri I have a brush in the car, Yuuri no, we don’t have time for this, YUURI

who is the most tidy and organised

Yuuri likes cleanliness and order and organization and it’s also funny because he hates to clean. He hates it. So he will bitch at Dennis if he finds boxers on the floor, there’s a hamper right there you HEATHEN, because Yuuri will only clean when he has to.

who gets most excited about the holidays

Yuuri regrets his life choices spending his first Christmas with Dennis. They live together, it’s nice, but Halloween was tolerable for the aesthetic but Christmas is a devil’s holiday where Yuuri’s concerned.

Dennis wears a different ugly Christmas sweater each day, there’s no repeats and so you will not see them out in public together at all in December.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Yuuri is a weird person who says “don’t touch me” but likes cuddling. Dennis is precariously the big spoon because he is A, bigger and B, not trapped in Yuuri’s arms where he could potentially lose his life if he angers his boyfriend.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Yuuri can also be described as the word “competitive.”

Dennis is also not one for letting his pride be mocked.

Shun mocks them both constantly and Yuuri is so full of vinegar that it gets out of hand.

who starts the most arguments

For two emotionally stunted, broken, abused people with wildly differing personalities, they fight very little.

Yuuri is always the one who starts it. Every time, without fail.

They fight mostly when Dennis is worn out and can’t take Yuuri’s sharp tongue anymore. Sometimes a guy needs a break and yelling at Yuuri is the only way to get it.

And yet, somehow, Dennis always apologizes with hot tea.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Dennis and Yuuri says “no” before the question is ever finished being asked.

Yuuri hates pets, hates animals, get them away from him.

Dennis wants a pet anyway but he knows better than to suggest a dog, one drop of saliva on Yuuri and the dog would be gone.

So Dennis goes to the shelter with Yuuya and Yuugo to look at cats and finds this sleek cat who explicitly hates Yuugo for no reason at all.

Yuuri accepts that cat and only that cat for that very reason.

what couple traditions they have

There are no traditions here other than cuddling and reading books.

Yuuri also attends every magic show of Dennis’s without fail no matter how much he hates the noise and crowds. Dennis, on the other hand, helps in Yuuri’s garden the next day and gets bit by at least two plants every time.

what tv shows they watch together

They don’t, let’s be real.

what other couple they hang out with

There are so few people who can tolerate Yuuri or Dennis and there are virtually no people who can tolerate Yuuri and Dennis.

Yuuya and whoever he’s dating end up being the victim of double dates.

Yuuri hates them.

how they spend time together as a couple

Cuddling. A lot of cuddling. And messing around.

who made the first move

Dennis. By accident, actually. When they were kids at Academia, Dennis put on an entertaining duel that Yuuri spied on from the shadows. Dennis told Trapeze Magician to give one of their audience members a gift.

Trapeze gave Yuuri a rose even though he was out of sight and he popped his head out for just a sec with the rose.

Dennis broke into this big, goofy, missing-two-teeth smile and Yuuri was gone, what happened, he does not understand.

who brings flowers home

Why bring flowers home when one of them grows them?

Dennis. Dennis does.

Yuuri hates it, stop killing flowers you asshole, it’s not a romantic gesture.

who is the best cook

Dennis only because Yuuri emulates his ace card so well.

Yuuri is always hungry, all the time and he doesn’t gain any weight.

No one figures out how.

When Yuuri cooks, he takes the whole “taste your cooking” thing to heart and by the time he’s tasted it multiple times, it’s half gone.

Dennis is tired of being hungry because of this and now he cooks all the meals and makes a snack for Yuuri to eat while he cooks so he doesn’t eat their meal again.

#❛ anonymous. ❜ #❛ asks. ❜ #❛ what a shame we all became such fragile broken things. ❜ ⁽ᵈᵉᶰᶰᶦˢ ˣ ʸᵘᵘʳᶦ⁾ #❛ shut the fuck up zayne. ❜ ⁽ᵒᵒᶜ⁾ #long post cw

[zztophat]

Starter for: @ofwarriors​

It was over. the club was back and everyone was home now. she should’ve been relieved right? why was she feeling so keyed up and anxious? maybe because nothing about this situation or this week felt right. belgirel’s appearance in their universe and then zach’s behavior during interrogation both had her worried as she entered her apartment. as soon as she opened the door though she felt a warm and comforting presence. michael. he was sitting on stool down by the breakfast bar, a drink in hand, papers strewed across the table. he was pensive and didn’t seem to notice her just yet. zee walked over to him and hugged him from behind. “hey...you okay? i didn’t think you’d be home.”

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #╰☆☆ no grave can hold my body down; i’ll crawl home to you | michael ☆☆╮ #05 Michael

[zztophat]

𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡: 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔

SUMMARY: Taking place during the time warp event, we see the return of Ritual Night Club and all those who were transported to 1693. The return of the club is both a welcome sight and a place of much confusion as the team tries to put together what exactly happened on St. Patrick’s Day. TRIGGERS: Depression, PTSD, Grief, Death Mentions WRITTEN WITH: @yrahcaz-arataz, @of-hexes, @ofsamwinchester, @daisyljohnson, @ofdeathstouch​

SAM: Zach had told Sam and Thorn his plan. It was a stupid plan. Getting left behind shouldn't have been an option, especially when Sam was sure Zatanna was already worried as Hell back in their own universe trying to find a way to bring them home. It would've broken her heart from them to come back without her family, but Sam didn't get a chance to tell Zachary that before he was running off and making sure they couldn't come after him. After the doors slammed shut, Sam was already pushing on them, but they didn't budge. He could hear something moving on the other side of them. Something was crawling across them, or growing. "Do we have anything to knock the door down?" He asked Thorn.

THORN: In terms of bad plans, pulling a heroic sacrifice was always a bad move. Thorn didn't want to go home without Zach. She didn't want to explain to his family what had happened to him. Zach didn't seem to care. This whole thing had him feeling like he needed to be some sort of sacrificial lamb. She tried to tell him that punishing himself like that wasn't going to do anyone any favors, but he just wouldn't listen. So, here they were locked back up in the club. Even the windows seemed to be blocked by growing shrubbery, vines, and woodwork. She looked around for something they could use to break down the door. "Emergency fire ax," she recalled. She grabbed the ax from the glass plated lock box and handed it over to Sam.

SAM: In a way, Sam understood where Zach was coming from. He'd been in similar situations where he'd seriously screwed up. Hell, he'd been the cause for the apocalypse starting how many times now? He'd felt that need to make up for everything, and self sacrifice often felt like the only option. It didn't mean Zach was right though. Sam hadn't been right when he'd tried the same things before either. He accepted the ax from Thorn and backed up a little, indicating for Thorn to do the same. He brought the ax down on the door with full force. It just bounced off, doing absolutely nothing. Magic. Of course. Sam groaned, but it didn't stop him from trying over and over. In the end, the ax just broke off the handle, splintering apart. Sam tossed it to the side. "Maybe there's something else," he said optimistically. He searched through the things they'd gotten from Eleanor, but there was nothing there. He searched through the whole club for anything they could use and found absolutely nothing. He met back up with Thorn near the doors. "I don't know. Maybe we can . . . Maybe, uh." He racked his brain, but was coming up blank. "Have we tried-" The building started to shake, just like it had done when they'd been sent here. "Shit." It was too late then. Zach wasn't here, and they were being sent back. He'd done it but at too much of a cast. He sat down to make sure he didn't fall over and raked his fingers through his hair. "I'll handle telling his cousin what happened." It wasn't going to be easy, for her or him, but someone had to tell her.

THORN: She flinched as Sam hit the door with the ax several times. Despite the heavy hits, the door took almost no damage. Whatever magic Zach used to re-enforce it wouldn't be broken by physical blows. Thorn looked around the club frantically for something they could use. Could they make a Molotov? Would fire break down the door? She wasn't sure and she judged that it was too risky to try. If the doors didn't budge despite the fire, they would all burn. She grabbed onto one of the pillars as the building began to shake. "No!" Whatever Zach had done was working but he hadn't made it back into the building yet. They couldn't just leave him in this timeline, but they were helpless to stop it. Thorn held on quietly to the pillar until the building calmed. She sniffled when Sam addressed her. This was the second person within the span of a month who'd tossed their life to the wind for her and his benefit. "Maybe we can bring him back?" Thorn asked hopefully. "His cousin...she's a powerful magician. Maybe she can track him down if we give her enough information to find him." Maybe they weren't too late. Zach had learned a lot about survival in the last month. He just had to hold on long enough, right?

ZATANNA: They'd gotten some information back now from Cupid and Maze's interrogation. It was enough for Zatanna to be able to create a spell to locate the correct universe where the club had disappeared off too. She was setting up the final preparations for the spell with Daisy when they heard a loud crackling. At first, Zatanna thought maybe Daisy was quaking something but she looked almost as confused as Zee. A minute later, the club manifested itself back onto its original foundation. "Holy shit..." Zatanna breathed. The investigation site had seen a lot of weird shit lately, including a pirate ship, but this new development gave her some hope. Zee made her way over to the doors of the club and could see some sort of enchantments were placed on it to keep the doors secured. "I'm gonna lift the spell holding the doors shut. I dunno what's in there," she admitted. She hoped it was all the missing people, but she couldn't be sure. "Have your agents ready." Zatanna turned her attention to the door as she placed a hand upon it. "Nepo emases!" she pushed the spell forward and with that motion the doors opened. Zatanna stepped aside as people slowly started making their way out of the club. She kept her eyes peeled for her people. Zach, Ambrose, and Sam. Sam would be the easiest to find, that is if he was still himself.

DAISY: She was relieved that they'd been making some sort of progress on all of this. They needed it after the week they'd had. Some of her agents were still recovering from the effects that Belphegor had put on them, but they were all mostly okay and had been relieved of their duties until they could be cleared. With what information they'd gotten from Mrs. Morningstar and Ms. Valentine, they'd been able to figure out how the times worked differently too. For the other universe, it would've been a month now since everyone had been gone, but with Zatanna's spell work, they had a way to get everyone back. Before they could do it though, the club appeared on its own. "I guess it decided to meet us halfway," Daisy muttered. She waved her hands at her agents, but they were already preparing, either for the worst or the best. Daisy hoped it was the latter. "Have medical on standby," she told them. "We don't know what these people have been through, so let's try not to traumatize them further."  She nodded at Zatanna once they were all in position, and then the doors were opening. She was relieved once people started pouring out, and she moved forward to help as many people as she could. "Anyone who needs medical attention, head in that direction. If you need help walking, wave down an agent, and we will assist you. Water and food stations are available to you, but we will ask you to stay for some basic questions unless you need immediate attention. We're here to help in any way we can." She repeated these statements as more and more people exited the club. Once they were all out, she focused her attentions on helping everyone.

SAM: Sam heard Zatanna's voice not long after the shaking stopped. It was both a relief and a crushing burden. She'd expect to see her whole family here, but she'd only find Ambrose. He prepared himself for telling her the truth as the doors opened, but he stalled a little to figure out what to say. He focused on helping the other people first. Some of them were injured, and he offered them a shoulder to lean on until they could get to an agent to help them the rest of the way or just carried some of them out the doors. He was glad that this was a club, so no kids had been here at least. After everyone else had been taken care of, Sam left the club too. He met Zatanna's eyes and saw her walking towards him. It was then that he realized what she might've been thinking. "MugwortMUGWORTMUGWORT!" he said in a panic so she wouldn't just knock him out while thinking he was the other Sam.

THORN: She was relieved when the doors to the club finally opened up. It was getting more than a little claustrophobic in there. She started helping people out of the club, hoping against all hope that she'd see Zach somewhere in there. Maybe he managed one last magic trick and snuck in just before the whole thing disappeared. Her disappointment grew as the club began to empty with no Zach in sight. She looked at Sam helplessly and shook her head as they exited. Her eyes adjusted to the light enough to see someone barreling toward them. She recognized that someone as Zach's cousin, Zatanna. She was making a B-line for Sam, a determined look in her eyes. Sam started hollering something about Mugwort. It was a healing herb but also kind of a psychedelic that opened up the senses. "That's an interesting way to say hello. Mugwort, Ms. Zatara," Thorn greeted her with a Vulcan salute. She gave Sam a silent look that said If you need me to stall some, I can definitely stall. She was always good for providing distractions.

ZATANNA: She watched as people filed out of the club. To her relief, she was able to see Ambrose being helped out by one of Daisy's agents. There wasn't a sign of Zach yet in the crowd and slowly the crowd was thinning out. Where the hell was he? Zatanna spotted Sam's tall frame as he was one of the last individuals to walk out of the club. She made a B-Line for him, a spell on her lips to put him to sleep just in case he wasn't her Sam. He seemed to realize what was on her mind as he shouted the code word. Zee eased up and hugged him instead. "Thank fuck, I was seriously starting to get worried," she replied as she pulled away. She recognized the redhead beside him as Thorn, lead singer of the Hex Girls and somehow the only friend Zach managed to keep other than Ambrose. "Hello Thorn. I'm glad you're both okay. If either of you need medical attention, we have a set up this way. We'll have to ask you guys some questions, but first I need to ask Zach a few of my own. Where is he?" Zee wouldn't have been surprised if he put on a disguise just to get past her so he didn't have to face her. She knew Sam and Thorn wouldn't cover for him if he did.

SAM: He let out a sigh of relief when Zatanna hugged him instead of putting some kind of spell on him to knock him out or something. As much as it might've been nice to have been out for the count to prevent him from having to tell her what happened to Zach, he wouldn't want the truth to be put on Thorn to tell Zatanna. That was his responsibility. He felt guilty, not just because he should've looked out for Zach better but because Zatanna was sounding so relieved and worried about them instead of the one who was really in trouble. "We're okay," he assured her. He swallowed when she asked where Zach was. "Zatanna," he started softly, trying to lead her away from other people. He wasn't worried about them being in danger, but this was personal to her. He doubted she'd want everyone to see her reaction to this. "Zach . . . didn't make it back." He tried to say it as gently as possible, but there wasn't any sugarcoating this. "He found a way to get the thing that sent us to Salem to send the club back, but because he wasn't in it, he's still stuck back there. We tried to stop him from going to do it, but he locked us in. I'm sorry, Zee. He's not here."

THORN: She didn't like having to deliver this kind of news or even hearing it delivered. She knew a bit about Zach's family already. Enough to know that his uncle, Zatanna's father, had passed away some time ago. Hearing the news that Zach was gone too wasn't going to be easy. Especially because from what Thorn knew Zach and Zatanna's last interaction hadn't exactly been a pleasant one. She stayed quiet as Sam told the magician the difficult news. "There's still time..." she offered. Maybe she was naive, but she wasn't willing to just give up on Zach. Sure, he'd gotten them into a lot of trouble, but he didn't deserve to be stuck in that time period. "We can try to give you whatever information we have so you can locate the universe we were in. Maybe we can help you find him." They knew the place better than most. They could guide her through it to the last place they'd seen Zach.

ZATANNA: There was an anxiousness in Sam's voice. The way he said her name caused an ache in her chest. Whenever someone said her name like that, they were about to deliver some bad news. Zatanna couldn't help but look around for Zach, but still there was no sight of him. She focused back on Sam as he continued to speak. Zach...didn't make it. "W-what?" Her chest tightened as the air escaped her lungs. She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "No, no, there has to be some mistake. He's just playing a trick on you so he doesn't have to face conseq--" she was so dizzy. She grabbed Sam's arm to steady herself. "So he doesn't have to face consequences," she finished, but even she didn't believe herself. Sam continued to explain what Zach had done. How he'd pulled a hero move just like her dad to save the rest of them. "Oh, god..." she whispered as it finally sunk in.

There was a ringing in her ears now. People were talking but it was like they were underwater. She flashed back to the last fight they'd had. She'd warned him again that his stupid antics would get him hurt but she never expected him to actually get hurt. She figured she would always be there to pull him back from his own chaos. She could vaguely here Thorn trying to reassure her. She focused on her voice and the thoughts behind it. She was right. It wasn't too late. They had already set up a spell to take them to that universe. Zatanna wheeled away from Sam and Thorn and made her way over to Daisy. "We have to perform the spell," she replied. There was a determined fire behind her eyes. "My cousin managed to find a way to send everyone home, but the price..." she shook her head. "He's stuck back there still. I have to go get him." She wasn't asking Daisy to come with. There was enough that needed to be done here. But she also wasn't asking for permission to do the spell. Her family was on the line and she was going to do whatever it took to save them.

SAM, DAISY, & ZACHARY: As Zatanna reacted to the new, Sam thought back to what she'd said after she told him the truth about barrier she had to put in his head. This was probably the kind of reaction she'd been expecting back then, maybe not to this extent, but something like it. He remembered when he had been like this, all the times that Dean had died, and he'd fallen apart. Family had a way of hurting you in ways that nothing else could. He wished he could do anything for her besides just tell her the truth. "He's not," and she knew he wasn't. This wasn't something Sam would take lightly. He wouldn't have told her this if he didn't know for sure that Zach wasn't just avoiding trouble. The way Zach had left made it all too clear that in his own eyes, he'd been ready to be left behind. He'd expected it. He held Zatanna up, so she didn't fall. He rubbed her back gently as she processed the news more fully and Thorn offered up other solutions. He appreciated her being here, but he also worried about what consequences Zatanna's spells might've had on her. He knew she would've paid it no matter what, and that's what worried him. It worried him even more that they didn't know what Zach had to do to get them here. If they went back to the past and found him dead there, how much more could Zatanna break. It was one thing for her to think he was stuck in a different universe, but death was a lot more painful to one's family.

She had about as much purpose in walking over to the S.H.I.E.L.D. director as she had when she'd come up to Sam before. Daisy rose a brow when Zatanna suggested doing the spell anyways. As far as she could tell so far, the problem had been solved. The club and its occupants had returned, but then Zatanna mentioned her cousin. Daisy nodded in understanding. She would've done the same for her family. She had done the same kinds of things for her family, but then she looked past Zatanna and shook her head. "You probably shouldn't do that spell."

She nodded past her towards the entrance to the Ritual, where Zachary Zatara was walking out now. He lacked his normal prideful demeanor. He appeared uncertain as he looked around. His clothes were torn in various places, and nearly all patches of skin were covered in cuts and bruises. A black eye forced his right eye shut, and he held his left arm close to himself.

THORN: It wasn't easy news to tell and it definitely wasn't easy news to hear. Her heart broke for Zatanna as she tried to process the news Sam was telling her. Denial came first, but then she was hit with the realization that what Sam was saying was true once Zach didn't appear from the club. She gave Sam a sympathetic look as Zatanna wheeled away from them. "You did what you could for Zach," she whispered to him. "I might not agree with the choice he made, but it was his choice. I meant what I said back there. It might not be too late to save him. The Zach from a month ago had zero sense of how to survive in that universe but the one that left us today knows better." She'd seen Zach grow a lot this past month. Maybe not because he wanted to, but because the circumstances called for it. As she opened her mouth to say more she heard footsteps behind them. Thorn turned slightly and her expression changed to immediate relief as she watched Zach exit the club. "Well, I'll be damned," she smiled. She wasn't sure how he got here, but she was sure glad to see him.

CHARLIE: She felt the shift almost immediately as the club returned. The natural order had just adjusted to it's disappearance and now it had to re-adjust to its reappearance. She didn't spare a thought to how much work this was all going to be though. She was too excited for the possibility of it all. If the club was back, then maybe Sam had come home with it. Charlie traveled quickly through the veil and back toward the investigation site. She'd been here multiple times this week, but this time she was full of hope. She made herself visible as she stepped out of the veil and looked around for Sam. Her heart leapt when she saw him. "Sam!" she called out to him. She didn't spare much of a thought to the fact that it might not be her Sam. She probably should've but Zatanna was here and she hadn't put him to sleep yet so Charlie had to assume it was safe. She sprinted toward him and threw her arms around him. She pulled away only momentarily to cup his face and get a better look at him. He looked tired and worn out but he was okay. He was alive. "I told you," she kissed him. "Clubbing isn't your scene."

ZATANNA: She knew from Sam's tone that he was serious about this, but it was still hard to process. Zach was gone. All of this started because of a fight they'd had, a fight that she'd never get the chance to apologize for. She felt numb just like the day she had when her father died. She knew from experience if she didn't find Zach that feeling wouldn't go away for the next forever. Just like her dad, just like Tracy, this was going to be another soul on her hands. She was operating on fumes and anxiety by the time she reached Daisy. The SHIELD director seemed to understand where Zatanna was coming from but Zee was confused when she said she shouldn't do the spell. Zatanna eyes followed to where Daisy had gestured and before she knew it she was running. Her body was moving automatically as she sprinted toward Zach and threw her arms around him. She held him tightly and just cried. "I thought I lost you, you stupid, moronic..." the insults didn't even make sense after a certain point, she was just relieved he was here. "Don't ever, ever, do that again, okay?" she pulled away so that she could look him directly. "Okay?" she asked, tears still speckling her face. Her eyes communicated the pain underneath. No more dead Zatara's, Zach. I can't do this again. I can't.

SAM: Sam sighed. He knew Thorn was right. He'd done everything he could to try to go after Zach in time, but it just hadn't been enough. He knew it wasn't his fault that Zach was gone, but he just wished he could've done more. Even if they still had a chance to go back to find Zach, it was still a lot to put on Zatanna. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But who knows what he would've had to do to get us sent back? You heard the way he told us that plan. He wasn't just talking like someone who's getting left behind. As someone who's had that kind of experience, he was talking like someone who was getting ready to die in a dramatic blaze, and even if we do bring him back alive, once you get into that kind of mentality, it changes how you handle everything." He wasn't against going back for Zach, but they needed to be prepared for the worst. He sighed, only glancing up once Thorn spoke again. "Son of a-" He laughed as he watched Zatanna running over to her cousin. Zach looked a little worse for wear, but he was alive at least. For Zatanna, that was clear that that was all that mattered.

"I guess-" He turned as he heard Charlie shouting his name. A smile spread across his face, and he ran to her too. "Charlie!" He met her halfway, picking her up and spinning her around as they hugged before setting her down again. "Well, we didn't really do much clubbing." He laughed before pulling her back in for a long kiss. He was just glad to have her back in his arms. "I'll probably need to go see Raphael again after this." He didn't feel like anything was wrong in his head right now, but the whole situation had been stressful, and he didn't want to take any chances. He pulled out of the hug, but didn't let her go just yet, instead walking her back over to where Thorn was. "Thorn, this is my girlfriend, Charlie. Charlie, this is Thorn. She helped us keep everything in order more or less in the other universe."

ZACHARY: He was both looking forward to and dreading coming home. He hadn't expected to make it back at all, but he'd somehow still made it here. He wasn't  sure what Belgirel had actually done to convince Mxyzptlk to send him home, but he didn't have a way to find out now. It didn't take him to spot Sam and Thorn. Sam was a giant, so he was easy to spot over everyone, and it was easier to find people close to him soon after that. He spotted Zatanna a little further off soon after that, talking to some S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. They pointed her in his direction, and he prepared himself for the worst as she charged at him. As her arms rose up, he flinched, but then she was hugging him. His arms also wrapped around her and held her tightly. He hadn't thought before that he could ever miss her this much. She was crying, and he was crying, both sobbing over each other. "I'm sorry," he blubbered. "I'm sorry. You were right, and I should've listened to you. And I'm sorry I kept putting everything on you and arguing with you all the time and changing the shows and not thinking and ignoring you and I'm sorry." Both of their faces were covered in tears, Zach's cleared through streaks of dirt on his face. As Zatanna pulled back and got a better look at him, he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I won't. I won't." It was the most sincere he'd been with her in a long time.

THORN & CHARLIE: She knew Sam was right. The way Zach had talked to them before locking them in made it clear he intended this to be a suicide mission. Even if his cousin went out to find him, there was a chance they'd be too late. Thorn was flooded with relief when she saw Zach walk out of the club, but even now she could see what Sam was talking about. With the way Zach carried himself it was clear he felt the weight on his shoulders. Some of that weight disappeared a little when Zatanna hugged him. Thorn smiled despite the circumstances. It made her miss her sisters, Dusk and Luna. She hadn't seen them in almost a month now. "I guess husbands are really hard to kill these days," she joked. It was clear she was glad Zach was alive. She wanted to check in on him, but she knew she would have to wait until these agents released him.

She looked up when a female voice called for Sam. Thorn's grin widened as she watched him run over to the woman and kiss her. Right on, Samuel, she cheered him on mentally. It was nice to see him happy for once. Much like Zach, Sam spent the last month with a chip on his shoulders trying to keep them all afloat.

Charlie held onto Sam as if he would disappear if she let go. He'd only been gone for a week in her timeline but it was a long and exhausting week. It had been so hard to focus on anything other than the gnawing feeling that she might lose him after just getting him back. Dean, Jack, and Zatanna had all felt the same restlessness. "You can see them after a nice hot shower and a nap," she laughed as she ran her hands through his hair. Based on the clothes, she could tell he'd come back from a time period that was even older than the one she'd been born in. She smiled as they approached Sam's friend, Thorn. Charlie recognized Thorn as a musician and also as one of her charges. "Hello, Thorn. Thank you for keeping him alive. It's not always an easy task," she smiled gently.

Thorn felt a weird sense of familiarity when meeting Sam's girlfriend. It was like seeing an old friend after years of being separated. She knew the woman was a reaper which was pretty cool. Thorn had a lot of questions, but she knew those would have to wait. "It's the hero complex isn't it?" Thorn razzed Sam. She looked up when she heard an agent call for Ms. McKnight and Mr. Winchester. They wanted her and Sam to answer some questions and get medically cleared for release.

"Go," Charlie encouraged them. She stood on her tip toes and kissed Sam one more time and then another for good measure. "I'll wait for you guys out front, okay?"

ZATANNA: She was shaking both from exhaustion and relief. This had been one of the hardest weeks of her life and the last ten minutes alone were an absolute emotional rollercoaster. She pulled away to get a better look at Zach. He looked rough, tired, and somehow older. She knew from questioning Maze and Cupid that time ran different in the other universe, but it wasn't just that. There was a look behind Zach's eyes that Zatanna recognized. She'd seen it in the eyes of League members after a rough battle, in soldiers coming home from war, in Sam and Dean, in Michael, and in herself. Trauma. A heaviness that brought down the soul like a physical weight. She hadn't seen Zach cry like this in a long time and it scared her. "It's okay," she replied as she held him again. "It's alright. I'm not mad. We'll figure it out, okay?" She believed him when he said that he wouldn't do anything like this again and that was the frightening thing. Zach rarely learned from his mistakes but he hadn't been this sincere and honest with her since...well, since her dad died. Whatever happened back there scared the shit out of him, that much was clear.

She didn't want to let go of him but agents were approaching them now. They knew about Zach's involvement in this, and they had questions. Zatanna didn't pull away entirely as she looked up at him. "We're gonna get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes," she instructed as calmly as she could. If she managed to stay calm, maybe she could keep him calm too. "The agents here have some questions for you. I don't know what happens from this point forward," she admitted. "But I'll be here every step of the way. We'll figure something out," she promised again. While this was a joint investigation, the repercussions were out of her hands. Justice League protections didn't apply to him because he wasn't a member, but she could be here for him as his family.

SAM: It would've been safer to see Raphael as soon as possible. He didn't want to risk anything or anyone by not checking on the state of his barrier soon enough, but Charlie was probably right. He did stink, and the 1600s did little for concealing body odors. "Will you join me in it?" he asked with a smirk, just happy enough to have her back this close. He was excited to have her and Thorn meeting. In their time in that universe together, he considered Thorn a close friend now. "It's something like that." He laughed as he answered Thorn. He turned his head when he heard an agent calling their names. "Um, actually, that's Mrs. Zatara to you," he said as he pointed at Thorn with his thumb. He grinned as he met Charlie's lips for another kiss. He held her close for just another moment. "Can you text Jack, Dean, Bells, and Cupid for me while we're talking to the agents? Let 'em know I'm okay? I don't exactly have my phone right now." He knew they'd be worried, and they deserved to know as soon as possible.

ZACHARY: Breathing in deeply, Zach managed to stop himself from crying. The tears were still fresh on his face though, and he didn't bother to wipe them away. It was weird how much she was comforting him. It was like how they were as kids doing mundane things like when Zach would fall out of a tree and get himself hurt. Zatanna had been right there back then too, telling him that it was okay, that she wasn't mad, and that they would figure it out. It had been a long time since then. Things had changed so much that a reaction like that was abnormal. She was always mad when he did anything these days. She was supposed to be mad. She was supposed to lecture him and tell him everything he did wrong. It was unsettling that she wasn't. It was wrong, but Zach couldn't bring himself to do anything about that. He didn't want to upset her. He didn't want to make things worse. He just wanted to go home.

As the agents approached them, Zach pulled away from Zatanna even as she tried not to pull away entirely. She was trying to protect him, but that shouldn't have been her responsibility, and he shouldn't put it on her. "I know what they're here for," he told her. He knew he'd messed up. He faced towards Zatanna and away from the agents, putting his hands behind his back, so they could properly put the handcuffs on him. "It's okay."

DAISY: Daisy took the step forward to put the handcuffs on him. She understood how hard this must've been on Zatanna, but she couldn't offer her much comfort. From what Mrs. Morningstar and Mrs. Valentine had told them, it seemed like Zach was to blame for everything that had happened. If that was truly the case, her cousin would be locked up for a long time, but that's what this investigation was trying to figure out. She instructed her agents to take Zach to the interrogation room, but she held back for a moment to talk to Zatanna. "I know you're going to want to be there, but you can't be in the room when we're questioning him. You're too close to this, and he might answer differently if you're there asking the questions. I'm not going to stop you from watching." Frankly, she didn't think she could stop Zatanna if she tried. "You'll just have to do it from the observation room. Are you okay with that?" There was an underlying question there. She meant to ask if Zatanna was okay in general, but she could tell what the answer was to that. "I'll be careful with him," she assured the magician.

THORN & CHARLIE: Charlie felt herself blush fiercely, but she didn't look away. "I can definitely clear my schedule and make myself available," she grinned. She'd missed this feeling. It felt like she was whole again. She laughed when Thorn called Sam out on the hero complex. Whatever they'd been through had helped them forge a bond of sorts. She was glad to see both of them made it out alive, but living through these things always left scars. Her eyes ventured over to Zach. The normally flashy magician looked absolutely broken in this moment. He survived the battle, but a part of him still died on the battlefield. The reaper looked up when she heard someone call for Sam and Thorn. Sam's correction made Charlie raise an eyebrow. She looked at Thorn, then at Zach, then back at Thorn. It was a shame Cupid wasn't here.

"Ah, so we're not letting that go even in this universe, huh? I can't annul a fake marriage," she reminded him. She glanced over in Zach's direction and flinched when she saw him put his hands behind his back. A moment later, agents were putting handcuffs on him. It didn't feel right. None of it felt right. She knew Zach had fucked up but this felt unnecessary. He wasn't a threat. When she got arrested in the other timeline for witchcraft, he stepped in to protect her. She felt like she owed him the same, but before she could move in that direction, an agent stepped in her way.

"Ms. McKnight, Mr. Winchester...this way please," the agent indicated with their hand. Thorn tried to stand on her tip toes to look over the agent and back at Zach and Zatanna, but the agent gently ushered her toward the medical set up.

"I'll let Dean and Jack know you're home," Charlie nodded. Dean was probably already on his way here. And Jack had taken to loitering around the investigation site even when he shouldn't be. "Some things happened with Cupid and Bells. They're okay, but it's been a heavy few days. I'll fill you in when you get out. They'll be happy you're home," she kissed Sam one last time and watched him disappear down to the medical set up with the SHIELD agents. Much to the confusion of the agents around Charlie, before any one of them could escort her out, she'd already stepped through the veil and was gone.

Thorn waited patiently down by the medial set up as Sam approached. An agent handed them both a bottle of fresh water and directed them to one of the queues. From this vantage point, neither Zatanna nor Zach were visible. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much trouble do you think he's in?" Thorn asked.

ZATANNA: She felt nauseous as the handcuffs were placed on Zach. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked up, but it was the first time he'd fucked up this badly. If what Cupid and Maze had said was true, then she couldn't protect him from the consequences of these actions. She watched in a daze as the agents took Zach away. Zatanna was half expecting him to pull some sort of escape trick and shimmy out of the handcuffs but to her surprise he didn't. He was so complacent with all of this. It was bizarre, unfamiliar, and terrifying to her. She didn't know how to navigate this anymore. Zatanna took a deep breath as Daisy approached her. "I know," she nodded. Daisy was right. Zatanna couldn't be impartial in this, and Zach was probably afraid of her response to the things he'd done to begin with. She could feel the underlying meaning behind Daisy's question. Zatanna wasn't okay but this wasn't the time to fall apart. They needed to figure out what Zach had done and how to prevent it from here. "Yeah, I'm okay with that," she nodded. She trusted that Daisy would handle this with care even if it turned out that Zach was at fault. Maybe he could avoid jail time if he agreed to give up his magic, but Zatanna wasn't sure how willing he'd be to do something like that. "I have to call his mom and let her know that he's home if you wanna give your agents a heads up." They'd all dealt with Stella this past week, and they could all anticipate how she'd react.

SAM: He was glad Charlie could get time for that with him. He knew how the veil worked, how minor changes could make more work for the reapers and how big things could throw the veil into chaos with how many deaths were moved forward or back. What happened with the club was huge. More lives came back to the universe, and some had regretfully not come back at all. That would throw the veil for a loop, and Charlie's presence would be expected there to help. He'd want to spend as much time with her as he could get before she went back to work. For as long as she was here, he was holding onto her.

���Not in a million years, especially once Cupid hears about it. She'll probably just make it more final and real.” He laughed. How could he not tell Cupid about this? After everything she'd been through, a story like that would help to lift her spirits. “Zatanna would probably just feel sorry for you.” He followed Thorn's gaze where Zach and Zatanna actually were. It wasn't something Thorn needed to see after what she'd been through with him already, so he was glad when the agent stepped in her way. Sam was taller than them all, so he could still see what was happening. He could still see how Zach didn't fight it at all as the agents led him away. Now that his suicide attempt seemed to have failed, it didn't look like he knew what to do with himself besides just accept what was happening. It stung seeing that, especially when Sam related so much to it.

“Thanks, boss.” He kissed her cheek in appreciation. He didn't want to worry them for too long especially when there was always the fear about the other him in the air. He rose a brow when she mentioned Cupid and Belphegor. Even if they were okay, it made him worried about them. He hugged her tightly before she kissed him and went off through the veil, watching her on her way out as he and Thorn were led to the medical area. He looked back to Thorn when she spoke. “A 7 maybe. From what I can see, he's being compliant, which might help him, and while Zatanna can't do too much for him, she'll fight tooth and nail to make sure they aren't just taking advantage or wrongly mistreating him. He'll have consequences, but hopefully they'll see it's not all his fault. He'll be okay.” He elbowed her to try to keep her thoughts off of it. “As his wife, you can probably get rights to go see him.”

DAISY: Zachary was being led out of view now by Daisy's agents, and she could see just how much this was bothering Zatanna. Even without regulations about family with these things, she felt like it was just a good idea personally that Zatanna wasn't going to be in the room for the interrogation. She wasn't sure what Zachary had been through in the 1600s, but it was clear that it affected him dramatically. It had to be traumatic, and it would probably hurt Zatanna to hear about it. She might've suggested that Zatanna not even listen in, but she doubted that would've been accepted well. "Thanks for the warning." She nodded. She waved one of her agents down. They came up next to her, and she told them to expect Zachary's mother to show up. "Give her whatever accommodations she needs," she told them. "And if there's a problem, let me or Zatanna know." She trusted her agents to gently handle Ms. Zatara, but a worried mother was a powerful force, especially one armed with magic. She looked back at Zatanna. "I can wait to start on the main part of the questions until you finish your call if you want?" she offered. She wasn't sure how long the call would be, but she imagined Zatanna wanted to be there.

THORN: "You're gonna tell Cupid?" Somehow she didn't doubt that Sam knew Cupid. It seemed like a very Sam Winchester sort of thing.  "That's bold. What if she makes fun of you for not getting married yet? I dunno, chief, I wouldn't risk it," she teased. "Honestly, I'd be honored to even be a passing thought in Zatanna's head, but she's got a lot on her plate already." In the grand scheme of things, Zach had fucked up by getting them sent to 1693, but he'd also kept Thorn and some of the others safe while they were there. She hoped that Sam was right that the agents would see it wasn't all Zach's fault. She snorted when Sam brought up that spouse privileges could probably be used here. "You are literally the worst," she laughed and squirted some of the contents of her water bottle at him. "And you smell like a hippy commune." One of the agents called for her name and gestured for her to come forward. "I'll see you on the other side, BSG," she threw some finger guns at him before disappearing behind one of the canopies to be medically cleared for release.

ZATANNA: She numbly watched as Zach disappeared from view. She didn't really want to call her aunt, but she knew she had to. If she didn't, Stella was probably going to ream her in as much as she was going to ream Zach in. She hoped her aunt would at least listen to the agents and not interfere with the interrogation, both for her sake and Zach's. The last thing Zach needed in the middle of being questioned was his mom coming in to yell at him. "Thank you," Zatanna nodded. "I'll make it quick and I'll see if I can get her to be a more rational person before she gets here," she promised. "I'll see you in the interrogation set up in ten minutes." Zatanna looked up at the ruined club one last time before she turned away and made her way to a quiet corner to call her aunt and give her the news.

SAM: "Of course! She's gonna love it. It'll be nice for her to have a project that's less stressful." He laughed when she tried to turn it back on him. There were good reasons why he and Charlie hadn't gotten married yet. They might've been dating for months now, but they weren't ready to take that step yet. Cupid knew a lot of what they had both been through. Sam had almost gotten married once already, and it had ended tragically. Charlie's attempt at marriage had been just as bad, if not worse. They weren't looking to rush things, but at least Cupid knew they were working on developing their relationship. He was pretty sure she didn't expect them to be ready for marriage that quickly, and she was probably just glad that Charlie was ready to be in love with someone after so much time. "She already did make fun of us a little. Before we were sure we loved each other, Charlie can tell you how relentless she was. That's how I know to sic her on you." He shrugged. "But if she does bring up the fact that Charlie and I aren't married yet, I'm not afraid to talk about that with her. I'll just show Cupid the ring I'll use when I eventually propose. It should satisfy her enough." Or at least it might've distracted her enough. He could just keep her talking until she forgot that she was reaming him about not being married yet. 

"You underestimate just how much Zatanna is willing to stack on her plate even when it's already full. I've got a feeling you'll start coming up a lot more in her thoughts, especially now that you're part of her family." He nudged her again before she squirted her water bottle at him, snickering to himself. "Takes one to know one. Actually I think you smell worse." He waved his hand in front of his nose before she got called away. A different agent called his name, so he headed away as well. He'd be glad to be out of here soon, so he could see his family. 

DAISY: "You're welcome. It's probably going to help both of us anyways." That phone call would hopefully at least buy them some time to get some questions answered before Ms. Zatara started getting more hostile about wanting to see her son. "Take your time. I'm sure you'll need it. I can use that time to get Zachary medical attention, cleaned up, and some clean clothes." From the looks of things he really needed all of that. It'd be better for them if he was in less pain while they were asking him questions, so they could more accurately determine if he was telling the truth or not. From how things had been, she had a feeling he wouldn't lie, but it was better safe than sorry, even if Zatanna would be there to keep things contained if they needed her. "But I'll meet you there once we're both done." They turned separate ways, Zatanna going to call her aunt and Daisy going to see to Zachary's medical needs. This had been a long week, but at least they were reaching the conclusion now. // END

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #sam: discords #charlie: discords #zach: discords #thorn: discords #daisy: discords #discord chat

[zztophat]

Starter for: @ofsamwinchester​

A few days had passed now since zatanna and dean made the journey through sam’s mind. they were all exhausted in the days following that and any efforts to sleep had been futile because they kept drifting into each others dreams. those were the consequences of magic. if only that had been the only spell zatanna had to perform that night. sam would find out sooner or later about the barrier she put in place, and she would have liked him to hear it from the source. they kept enough secrets from each other without having to add to the pile. “hey,” she smiled up at him as he walked into the shop. it was after hours now and there were blueprints all over the counter for the upcoming holiday market. “you look like shit but i appreciate you stopping by. i was hoping to talk to you about some things.” she realized it sounded like he was in trouble so she added, “um, about the things that happened in your head and about cupid and belphegor.” she realized that also didn’t make it sound any better because he’d kept cupid’s death a secret from her. “oh for fucks...” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. she was tired. “you’re not in trouble. it’s not you. i did something and you need to know about it.”

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #╰☆☆ let me be the one to light the way and bring you home | sam ☆☆╮ #02 Sam

[zztophat]

@ofsamwinchester​​

She and sam were working on deciphering the tablet now that they had all the parts together. this time they were in her father’s study at shadowcrest. as she was setting books down on her what used to be her father’s desk, she knocked into a small statue of harry houdini. zatanna was expecting to hear it shatter but instead she heard a very distinct click. a moment later, the bookcase behind her opened up to a hidden doorway she’d never seen before. “well, that’s ominous...wanna take a break and go exploring?”

#╰☆☆ you know the devil would be jealous of your silver tongue | replies ☆☆╮ #╰☆☆ let me be the one to light the way and bring you home | sam ☆☆╮ #03 Sam #they needed a fresh thread lol