#an angel loses irs wings

[ricopop]

just so you know, im on team milk and wont leave

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sarawritestories]

Remember Me

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: Reader's Grandmother's memory is deteriorating. When Gram has an aggressive episode, Reader falls apart at the realization she is losing her best friend. She misses family dinner and Cassian feels the devastation through the bond checks on her.

Content Warning: Memory loss of a loved one, Death of a loved one, crying.

A/N: I've been thinking about my favorite Angel lately and apparently I needed to get some feelings out. Some of these are based off real memories though its mostly fiction but the love for my gram is real! I cried a lot while writing this, so please be kind.

ACOTAR Masterlist

“What are you doing here?” My Gram sneered. I stood frozen mouth agape, Madja warned me things had begun deteriorating quickly. I just hadn’t realized that it was impacting her personality. Her voice brook me from my thoughts, “Well, what do you want? Why are you here?” I took a sharp breath for the first time in my entire life my gentle loving grandmother held ire in her eyes, and they were glaring down at me. It wasn’t always that way.

“I win!” A younger me howled as I cleared my hand of card. My grandmother smiled and snapped her fingers in mock disappointment.

She opened up her arms and I ran right into them, her scent of cookies we made earlier and clean soap filled my nose. Home. She was my home, “Good job, my lil’ Princess.” She kissed my cheek with her pink lipstick smudging my cheek.

I grinned widely, “Can we play again?”

Gram let me go and started reaching for the Cards, “Let’s play.”

My chest felt tight, and I doubled checked to make sure that the bond was shielded on my end, not wanting to worry your mate. Her face held nothing but rage and fear of a stranger in her room. It was like a whole different person. Shaking the surprise of her behavior I took a breath, and reached out to her, “Gram.”

She swatted my hand her she yelled, “Don’t touch me, where’s my granddaughter? What have you done with her?!” I froze and blinked and blinked once more. “Healer! Healer!” She looked back at me and the broken sound of her scream, “Get out! GET. OUT.”

I bolted out the door and ran into Madja who was rushing in as I was speeding out. She gripped my arms, “Are you alright?” the healer’s brows knitted together in concern. Not trusting myself to speak I shook my head. “Her condition is worsening. There is nothing I can do. She’s fading fast I fear she may only have a few more weeks with us.”

I stepped out of her grip as the news sunk in. I dodged her attempt at an embrace and sprinted home. My legs wanted to give out, but I pushed forward and was trying to keep myself together. I ran through the door, and once I was in the confines of my home, I slid down the front door and fell apart. Tucking my legs to my chest I buried my face into my knees as sobs racked through me. Memories of my childhood, flooding to surface.

Laughter filled the room as Gram, and I were baking cookies and dancing in her kitchen. As she spun me around, we heard the door slam open. Male voices filled the room and Gram gave me a knowing smile, as excitement bubbled over as Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand barged through the kitchen. I had met Rhys in school, and he introduced me to his brothers when they would come to visit Velaris the four of us becoming fast friends and Gram had instantly welcomed them in her home and required them to visit before they went back to the Illyrian camps whether I was here or not.

The moment I saw Cassian’s shaggy hair I leapt into his arms. Quick to hold me, he gripped onto me in a bone crushing hug his wings tucked in, He turned to face Rhys and Azriel. “See, Princess, here knows how to say hello.” He kissed my check and gave me a full grin, “Hello, Princess.” I rolled my eyes as he put me down. He heard Gram call me that once and had not stopped calling me that. There was a point where it stopped bothering me and I began to enjoy it.

“Stop flirting with my grandchild and give your gram a hug,” Cassian put me down and gave her a hug, kissing the top of her head as I hugged Rhys and Az. Gram laughed, “I swear every time you three come home you get bigger.”

Rhys and Az both walked over and hugged her as one of Az’s shadows sneaked him some cookie dough. Gram playfully swats at him, “The fresh ones are on the cooling rack.”

The boys all lunged for the cookies. When I elbowed them for one of my own, I frowned as they cleared the way and found they took them all.  I sighed crossing my arms as two muscular hands caged me close to his chest delicious cookies in my line of sight. “Help me out, Princess.”

I smiled and grabbed both treats from his hands. He casually snaked his arms around my waist pulling me closer, whispering in my ear, “One day, when we are exchanging Gram’s cookies to accept the mating bond.”

I leaned my head on his chest taking a bite of the baked good, “Bold of you to assume we will be mated one day.”

He kissed the pointed part of my ear, “I’m not assuming smart ass. I’m just hopeful.”

There was a lot of laughter that caused my gaze to drift to the table where Gram was smirking behind the cards she was holding in her hand as Azriel’s shadows passed out the cards. I placed my hand over his, “Me too.”

~Later that day~

The house was almost quiet, the not so soft sounds of the three Illyrian’s snoring. I walked into the dining room where Gram patted the seat next to her. Taking the open seat her hand found mind giving it a comfort squeeze. “Time for girl talk.” I perked up as this was My favorite time of the day where it was just the two of us talking about all topics. She leaned over and watched the three soon to be warriors snoozing in her living room. “They are good males, Y/N. Promise me that you four will take care of each other when the time comes for me to see your grandfather again.”

My brow furrowed, “Of course. Though that won’t be until centuries, right?” Gram patted my hand.

“Yes, Princess, though I do miss your grandfather very much. I long to be in his arms again. Hopefully one day the mating bond will snap between you and a certain Illyrian when you are old and gray you will understand where I’m coming from.

I took a glance over at the sleeping long haired mail. His face so peaceful in his sleep. The stress of the world is no longer at the forefront of his brain. “Gram, do you think we could be mates?”

Gram grinned, “I do, it will snap in the right time.”

“I hope you’re there for the mating ceremony if it does.” I say leaning my head on her shoulder.

She laid her head on top of mine, her curls grazing my forehead. “Me too, Princess. Me too.”

I had no memories of moving from leaning on the door to lying down on the floor. I felt like I was drowning in my tears and was swept in the undertow. I heard a soft-landing upstairs and the boom of a male voice, “Princess!” He ran down the stairs, “Princess, where are- “He abruptly stop and then his hazel eyes meet mine, “Baby. What’s wrong, are you hurt?” He scanned me for injuries, and he cupped my face wiping my tears.

“Cass.” I hiccupped and he picked me up off the floor and carried me to the couch in our living room. “Why are you here?”

He snorted, “Leave it to my mate to ask me why I am in my own home.” He sat down and held me on his lap, my head laid on his shoulder and I could feel concern down the bond. “You put your shield down on the bond and I felt your overwhelming sadness. Then Madja told Rhys you visited Gram.” A fresh wave of tears started, and Cassian ran his fingers through my hair. “She wouldn’t tell him details but I could put it together.

“She’s dying Madja, said she only has months. Today she didn’t recognize me, “I whispered as Cass pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips to my forehead. “She asked what I did with her granddaughter. I’ve never seen such anger in her eyes.” I began to sob again and buried my face in Cassian’s neck.

Cassian rubbed my back and made sure to cocoon me in his wings, whispering soothing words in my ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What can I do? Should I get Rhys and Az?” I shook my head.

“Just hold me. Please.” I clung closer to him gripping his leather tight and his free hand wrapped around mine.

“Of course, Princess.” Cassian kept rubbing against my skin and humming a little tune that lulled me to a dreamless slumber.

Cassian and I finally reached Gram’s table after the mating ceremony, she gave me a smile and kissed my cheek and Cassian kissed the top of her head. “You look lovely dear.” Gram patted my head confusion sparked in the elder fae female’s eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

I tilted my head, “Gram, we talked about this yesterday. My mating ceremony today.” I exchanged a worried glance to Cassian to find his face mirrored mine, his hand gripping mine a little more tight than normal.

Gram’s face lit up, “Oh how wonderful, I knew you would find your mate, who is the lucky fella.” She asked and her question was genuine and true.

Cassian bent down and gripped Gram’s hand, “It’s me Gram, Cassian. You’re favorite Illyrian.” He smiled.

She patted his cheek, “Well you’re so handsome, are you going to take care of my pretty princess,” clearly the memory of him asking for her blessing gone.

Cassian kissed her hand, “Yes and I will make sure she is well cared for ma’am.” It took everything in me not to burst into tears. I felt Az and Rhys behind me, and Cass must have too, “Rhys and Az will too. We made you promise to be there for each other. We’re going to keep it.”

Gram nodded her head in approval and saw the two handsome males behind me. “Oh hello, aren’t you two handsome fellas too.”

Rhys and Azriel gave a sad smile and instead of dancing the four of us sat around my favorite person and just talked about our lives and our adventures and she started talking about me but like she was a stranger. “My granddaughter, she’ll find a mate one day and I hope her mate loves her like you love yours, Sir.” She spoke to Cassian, and I could see his own heart breaking.

He squeezed my hand under the table, “I’m sure she will and the male or female that does will make her feel like the most important person in the world.” We spent the first night of our mating ceremony holding each other and crying over the interaction.

~A month Later~

We were having brunch with our friends, as I tried not to think of the looming cloud of losing my Gram. Rhys came into the dining room of the river house with a somber look on his face. His gaze met mine, and suddenly the food in my mouth turned to ash. “Madja just reached me. She says its urgent.” Dread pooled in my stomach. “It’s about Gram.”

Cassian’s wing curved around me, I swallowed my food and tried to level my breathing, I felt the cool kiss of Azriel’s shadow around my ankle. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Rhys’ eyes lined silver, and he nodded.

The four of us and Feyre were around her, her breathing was labored, but her eyes for the first time were cleared. Madja had informed me she is lucid and that she most likely had enough fight to say goodbye. She said it was a rare to see in memory loss severe as hers but it can happen. “My, you four have grown up.” Her eyes reach Feyre. “Rhys who is that lovely lady?”

Rhys let a tear fall down his cheek, and held out his hand for Feyre to take, “This is my mate, Gram. This is Feyre.”

Gram weakly raised her hand and Feyre took it. “You keep this boy in line okay, he always tries to get into trouble.”

She smiled and squeezed Rhys’ hand, “I will, Ma’am.”

She pointed to Rhys, “And you, take care of this beautiful female, don’t let her go.” He held her hand for his and he knelt to take it. “You have been an outstanding High Lord. Your momma, would be proud.”  Cassian pulled me close as Rhys nodded and kissed her head, whispering in her ear.

Azriel stepped forward next and Gram’s smile brightened, “My shadowsinger.” He gripped his hands, “You are so strong and so brave, but it’s your kindness and your loyalty that sets you apart. And if a partner of yours can’t see that or appreciate you, they are not worth your time.” She cupped his face and he leaned into it kissing her palm, “Also tell those shadows of yours to stay away from my lil’ Princesses, cookie dough.” Azriel laughed through the tears and promised also kissing her forehead.”

Gram’s eyes met mine, then Cassian’s as if she could see the gold bond that tethers our hearts together, “I always knew you two would be together.” She smiled and opened her arms and Cassian released his grip and I ran into her arms. Sobbing into her night gown. “Oh lil’ princess, don’t cry over this old bag of bones. Your grandfather, came to me yesterday, and told me to come home soon.” I sobbed hard and she soothed my hair. “Shhh, Cassian come here.” My general steps forward and she grips his hand. “I am so proud of you. My sweet Cassian. You have grown into a fine male. Take care of her you hear me?”

“Don’t worry Gram, our Princess is well cared for. I’ll make sure it stays like that.”

“Good.” She pulls me away from her shoulder and walks her shoulder, “Remember what I said all those years ago. Take care of your boys. You’re all each other has now.” She coughs and I gripped her hand in mine. “If there is one thing, I’m most proud of in this life. It’s being your grandmother.”

I whimpered and sniffled, “Being your granddaughter is mine.”

“I love you more than the stars in the sky, my lil’ Princess.”

‘I love you too.” I whispered as I held her hand in my mind and watched as she leaned back her breathing labored, as if her conversation with us cost her so much. Cassian gripped my shoulder as we watched as her breathing slowed and it stopped all together. Her hand loosened in mine, and I couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore, and the scream that erupted from my chest was broken.

Cassian grabbed me and pulled me to his chest, rocking me as his own tears soaked my hair. The room was filled with sniffles and hiccups for what felt like hours and Cassian had held me tightly.

It was Rhys’ voice soft and somber that pulled me away from Cassian’s chest to look at my High Lord, my brother, “Cauldron save you. Mother hold you.”

He walks toward the bed grabbing the blanket, and Az voice joins him, “Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”

Cassian was the one who joined next as Rhys raised the blanket tenderly over her face, “Fear no evil. Feel no pain.”

I wiped my tears as there was a pause and the three of them looked at me and I felt a light hand intertwined with mine. Feyre looked at me eyes lined with silver understanding in her gaze as she led me to my grandmother and through my tears I finished the prayer, “Go and enter Eternity.”

[91-aquarii]

excuse me for ranting period is coming up and i'm (ir)rationally upset about everything but blood of zeus writers i hope you EXPLODE for what you did to ares and demeter this season i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you (picture the wolf growling gif)

how do u turn the ONE god that isn't a rapist into that thing. and the complete personality switch-up from s1?? yeah, make him a predator and a misogynist who seemingly forgot that the amazons are his descendants. sure. whatever. nothing matters anymore. my expectations for you were low but holy shit !!! "waaahh hades is misunderstood so we didn't wanna make him a villain :(( anyway, here's ares, portrayed as The Worse Person Ever for the 294840th time. this is New And Exciting" MAN!!!! NONE OF U UNDERSTAND HIM. except for the hades writers. if nobody got me supergiant games got me <33

AND DEMETER??? every time a retelling turns demeter into an overbearing cunt that doesn't care about what persephone wants over the mother frantically and desperately trying to protect her daughter from the men in their family an angel loses its wings. tragically and painfully, btw. they're torn out forcefully. god. and she gets WORSE? Unbelievable. get your fucking paws off my beloved wife. the lore olympusification of modern greek myth stories.

parlapanides brothers when i fucking catch you two ooooh when i catch you

[sukimas]

every time you use tax prep software rather than the irs free forms an angel loses its wings

[muzzleroars]

I feel like Ferryman should be allowed to be involved with the (or a) Mike pummeling as a treat in a support role (I dont see them wanting to actually fight Mike) so that they can get their holy cloth back, look at the pummeled Micheal, and start tearing the cloth into strips to bandage Mike's wounds because the Ferryman has always been the better person and Micheal's condemnation will not change that.

OUUUGHHH I LOVE THIS....it would be an extremely eye-opening experience for michael, but he would be overly stubborn about it's ramifications because for the life of him he cannot accept that a single one of the damned deserve anything more than what he believes they chose. when the ferryman comes accompanied by gabriel and v1, to him it seems like an obvious affront to his authority - they've returned to get revenge for his actions against them, showing clear contempt for god's law as he enforces it. the sinner should accept their punishment, should accept his rule, yet that assumption can't even hold water within the first moments of the confrontation as the ferryman is quick to show their deference to him. they bow low again and do not speak a word to him, his own arrogance only deeming fit to address gabriel rather than the ones beside him. and gabriel is quick to tell him all that he asks for: the holy cloth, the one michael stole from the ferryman. in his words he makes it clear he has come to collect it of his own accord, but michael is incensed at the accusation - the cloth is of heaven, under his property as its prince. he cannot steal from a sinner's own wrongful gains. the ferryman wishes they could speak, but they want nothing less than to invoke michael's ire on them once more...and he has not spoken to them. so a fight is inevitable, but they refuse to do any harm to one of god's servants, especially one so exalted.

because the ferryman didn't exactly...want this. they want their holy cloth back, they are endlessly grateful that gabriel and v1 were willing to seek michael out for it, but the confrontation isn't at all their wish. still they came, because they couldn't allow gabriel or v1 to risk themselves for their sake - they would do all they could to assist, but made it clear they would not engage michael whatsoever. the two understand the ferryman's position, allowing them to stay on the backlines and offer what support that they can. and it's immediately obvious to michael that they abstain from attacking him even if he targets them directly. fair enough, as gabriel and v1 quickly mount a defense for them, but it rattles him enough that speaks out a single word to them - "coward". finally in return the ferryman's thin voice can answer him, that they wish nothing but peace and healing upon st. michael. it seems they can say nothing right to him though, not even their blessing, as there's just a single beat before michael is infuriated by the remark. to be pitied by a sinner, for the damned to pray for his health, makes him acutely aware of every inch of rot now on full display. he's something miserable, even to the one who tore their own flesh from their body for the grief they felt. and gabriel knows this means they'll have to fully kick the shit out of him before they can recover what's been lost.

it's a grueling fight, but the ferryman remains steadfast, only watching their backs to block incoming attacks and assisting v1 with blood from time to time (since michael's does so little for it) but when michael falls, when he grudgingly passes the cloth back along to gabriel, the ferryman is struck by him collapsed onto the ground. he's suffering, deeply. god's highest angel, wings crumpled up in exhaustion as sticky, too dark blood clings to exposed bones and wounds litter decayed skin. they're sure every battle speeds the process, that he loses pieces of himself and so expedites his wasting. a wave of sadness rolls over them, unspeakable grief shaking them even as gabriel returns their cloth to them. michael is the leader of god's army, the slayer of lucifer who stood in defense of all the meek flock, and the ferryman can't stand to see him so weak, so vulnerable. in spite of everything, they move past gabriel and bow down again to michael before cautiously moving to tend his wounds with strips of their own cloth. michael moves to hold a hand against them, but freezes as the ferryman sees to him. he tells them he needs nothing from the damned. the ferryman knows this. he tells them this will earn them no favor in heaven, their regard is lost. they knows this as well. so why? it does them no good, and it is presumptuous, offensive.

and i THINK the ferryman gets the chance to repay michael JUST a bit by quoting luke 6:27-36 right to his face: "'but i say to you that hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. to him who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your cloak do not withhold your coat as well. give to everyone who begs from you; and of him who takes away your goods do not ask them again. and as you wish that men would do to you, do so to them.'" fine. ok. he KNOWS. but i think they continue, because he needs some impressing: "'if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? for even sinners love those who love them. and if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? for even sinners do the same. and if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. but love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the most high; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the selfish. be merciful, even as your father is merciful.'" which is a HARD hit directly into his ego. they expect nothing from him, but they will serve him as he deserves as the angel he is...or perhaps once was. they adhere to the teachings, they keep the faith without hope, but they are essentially indirectly implying that michael needs to look inward now. he is full of hatred, trying to prove so much to so many instead of just...doing the work. keeping his faith. the ferryman knows it is difficult, they understand the pull of anger (they are in wrath too, after all) but he has their sincerest prayers, however little they mean, that he too can heal.

michael is shocked silent, retreating into his stoicism when anger can't serve and he has no choice but to swallow his pride as the ferryman treats him with gabriel watching on. he feels. weak under their gaze. it's unbearable to him, but he must bear it. soon the ferryman finishes their work and a silent pause passes between them before they thank michael for all that he's done. he has been all of their great shield, he completed a wonderful service to god and the whole of humanity, and the ferryman is forever grateful to him for his tireless work against all the evil they have seen in hell. if nothing else...their place here makes them understand just how much michael truly did for god's kingdom, and so they are thankful for that. they bow once more before departing, and michael is left to think on all they did, the little they spoke. he shouldn't care, he shouldn't give a second thought to the damned, yet this encounter would absolutely sit with him like a stone for a long time.

[originemesis]

@micsmasmuses cont. from xxx

He glances at the masks mouth then back to his eyes, then to his wings. Admiring them as they ruffled up at his touches, it makes his grin grow wider as his gaze trailed down his body. His free hand gently runs over the spikes of the collar. Since when did they allow these? Is this fashion up there? Kinda tacky if he’s being honest. Rolling his eyes at the high heel comment he scoffs. “You’d like to see me in heels wouldn’t you pervert” his eye twitches slightly before his face was grabbed. A pout forming to his lips as those talons squish his cheeks. But a small prick of those nails leads to a small head of that golden blood rolling down his cheek as he stares at him a bit annoyed.

“She probably did. But we could always switch it up if that’s what you desire?” He offers with a grin. Though at the mention of the meeting he groans. Well that ruined a bit of his mood. He honestly forgot about it, or more of the fact he really didn’t want to show up despite his favorite little play thing being there. Even if it’s important he has better things to do. Though the mention of drinks after has his attention. Eyes lighting up a bit, it’s been so long since he’s really had some time with the other male. “Drinks huh? I’m very available for drinks” he purrs. Letting the deep noise rumble from his chest as he feels Adam push closer into his touch. “Who says I’m judging? Quite sexy of you taking being the first dad to heart. If anyone is the perfect one here it’s you handsome” He says grinning at him, he truly loves stroking this man’s ego. His gaze still on his as he leans in closer. He will admit he’s tempted to take this ridiculous mask off, it gets tiring to look at when his face is better in his opinion. Just as he leans in a bit more getting awfully close he moves around him and out the door. Cane in hand as he adjusts to his normal height. “C’mon then. Don’t want to be late for such an important meeting now do we” he mocks his siblings voices as he gestures him to follow along. He could at least take him to the right meeting room.

It's irritating in a way- to be poked and prodded at like some animal in a zoo. In hindsight, that was likely all he was to the first Fallen. Some weird, new animal from a gated-in garden that just so happened to sport spikes on his collar, and a divine leash that was not so obvious to others, much as it was to him in the moment of fussing and fondling the serpent seemed set upon now that he wasn't guarded behind his usual hologram. "Maybe one stuck in your throat since you're so eager to jump down mine." He added with a final squish of his company's cheeks, noting the garish glow of the angel blood tipping his talon's end once he abandoned his catch with a flustered shove like it would dissuade Lucifer from uncovering his closely concealed secret that was hardly one between them, much as the first man liked to pretend that it was.

"Acting like it's such a big deal for you to offer when there's no risk that you'll end up with the short straw shape-shifted to horsecock midway. Fuck you, by the way." He might have been an asshole, but at least he was consistently so. Shaking his head, he almost welcomed the dampening a work break would bring between them, however short-lived it was given the promise of post-coital conference affairs. The fuck did he even agree to that for? He really was losing it the longer he had to loiter in hell at hands that fussed with his heavenly uniform as peckish as a preening hawk. "A drink-" He corrected him- emphasis on the 'A', since clearly it was the best letter fucking ever. "Soms of us still have to fly all the fucking way back." Which clearly annoyed him to the point where his ire was more dedicated to that unfortunate fact than it was to acting like his chest wasn't relaxed in its new position of rising and falling under the subtle weight of flared fingers.

"...can you maybe not?" The dad bod jab was enough to earn the other a sharp quip and a sudden beating of wings that only hesitated halfway to coming to blows around the smaller silhouette if only because he wasn't sure how he felt about an ego stroking that came from the same force a cat's tongue enforced upon frazzled fur. "I mean I know it's impossible not to get your nuts off to me, but shit. You're not doing your 'im sho cwassy, I ware a top hat wike a wittle beta betch' image any favors, dude." His own poor impersonation skills shared, he hesitates once the only other member of the aforementioned meeting leans in to-...what was he doing? Despite his hard-won ruthlessness, Adam found himself tilting his head back a short ways, a lure enough to coax his heat-seeking pursuer's breath just under his chin where he swore he could feel the brief, amused flicker of a forked tongue shortly before the shorter man grew back down into his own height and hastened him towards their meeting with a flick of his wrist.

It took him a moment to realize he had to breathe, and he did so while gladly releasing the pent up pressure keeping his gut in check as he ruffled his wings in the half hope their ruffled appearance would be equated to his own impatient shifting while grumpily falling into line behind hell's keeper. "The two minute's tops agenda is important enough for me to be here in the flesh. Could act more grateful." He rolled his eyes under his mask, and true to his word- lasted about two minutes in the meeting of which 50 seconds were actually dedicated to the matter of extermination, and the rest was an impassioned plug for heaven's sponsor for the day- his dick. Productive and absolutely worth the trouble of sending him down there. Golf fucking clap for Sera.

"-anyyyyyyway..."

[bbnibini]

three: lilith

"I tore off my mask so as not to lose one of her tears... and she did not run away!...and she did not die!... She remained alive, weeping over me, weeping with me. We cried together! I have tasted all the happiness the world can offer."

-Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

content warning: jumpscare and implied depiction of suicide---please use the ⚠️ emoji as an indicator to know when the jumpscare will start and end.

Lilith didn’t hear much about the higher Hemispheres from her brothers–Mammon stuck around Lucifer for too long and offered more headaches than stories. Beelzebub was the quiet sort, a lot more talkative in their youth, but harboured the “signature taciturnity” of a Higher angel once he had taken his place in the Higher Palace as a Cherubim. She should know, for Lucifer was one example–Michael another. Asmodeus was a lot more sympathetic, but also knew nothing, and Belphegor was too accepting to question anything. 

So she contented herself with stories she heard in idle passing–the farfetched legends of mortals, and the quiet whisperings of her fellow messengers; rumours and hyperboles. It was better than nothing. One particularly famous one is of The First Angel– long long ago, before the existence of everything, Father created Heaven and Earth in seven days. And on the final day, He established the Three Hemispheres and created the angels. All of this was not done on His lonesome. He had a friend who helped Him establish Heaven’s foundations, and Father was very pleased with what they did that He invited His friend to His Kingdom and that friend became The First Angel.

That was when the rumours became vague–some stories said The First Angel was also The Angel of Death–but many knew that to be untrue. Lady Azrael was younger than the First Seraphim, and all of them were already several millennia younger than the halls and tenements of Heaven. Some said The First Angel was no angel, but rather a demon; a creature so vile and repulsive that one would go mad if they would meet its eyes–Father took mercy on it when He saw it shed tears on the battlefield, that instead of slaying it, He kept it somewhere inside Heaven’s halls, slumbering for eternity. Some said The First Angel was long dead, and the Seraphim dared not to speak his name for it would earn them Father’s ire. Others called The First Angel merely an idea–a figurehead and a symbol rather than someone who actually existed. 

The final rumour was the most boring one, and much to Lilith’s displeasure had been the most widely believed. She missed the glittering tales in her picturebooks–or of the colourful recollections and anecdotes of her dearest brother Lucifer when they were younger. The seraph smiled more often then–with his clumsy attempts with Celestial cuisine and numerous failures with housekeeping; he took her and her brothers in even before he was Lucifer, the Morning Star. But she knew those days were long over–everyone seemed to have forgotten, but why couldn’t she?

…rather, in her own narrow castles, she thought it was up to her to never forget for all their sakes.

She thought following Lucifer’s footsteps would bring them all closer–that by being like him, she could understand him better; they can finally be on the same level–maybe then they can talk more comfortably, and she wouldn’t have to see his pretty red eyes lose its colour as she recounted his childhood tales in verbatim. Perhaps by choosing to study to become a Virtue, she and her brothers would never have to be apart. Lucifer would have someone to converse with in the Higher Palace when she becomes a seraph herself, and after their dull, rudimentary meetings, they would meet with Beelzebub at the High Gates, and he with his beautiful wings and golden trumpet would call upon the rest as they all reunite in their childhood home, sharing meals and stories. Everything will be back to normal, even in just those short moments. 

“You should eat your food, Lilith.” 

…and the cold gazes and deathly silence in their dining area would be no more. Lucifer left it even more frowning than usual–and Beelzebub followed him timidly as they had muted conversations outside. The table had plenty of food–luxurious and decadent; a lot more than what they had when they were younger. Even the nectar they had on the pitchers was so pure it was practically see-through. Two vacant chairs–no Mammon and Asmodeus in sight. If Asmo were here, he would have held her hand by now. It’s okay darling; everyone will be able to make it to the next one; however empty those words were. 

Will everything really be better once she becomes a Virtue?

She met eyes with Belphegor and the kindhearted archangel only offered her a weak smile. She heard him follow her as she left the table with her food barely touched. She decided to speak once they were out of earshot.

“He seems a lot more…sullen than usual.” Her emerald eyes sneaked a glance at her brother’s own amethyst ones. He was considering her words until he finally said,

“Beel looked really tired too.” Which was true. Usually after Lilith “makes a fuss” after dinner, the Cherubim would be rushing over to them, apologising for wrongdoings he had never done. But at times he wasn’t, both she and Belphegor could hear his conversations with Lucifer with raised voices, then muted to hushes and apologies as they neared.

Belphegor dismissed them as merely “topics only Higher angels could know about”, which he further dismissed when Lilith began to question them. 

“Lucifer is taking it out on him!”

“Poor Beel.”

“I wish they would tell us what’s going on.”

Opening it up to Mammon had been a mistake–it gave them  ̶h̶e̶r̶ false hope. The second eldest was sympathetic and understandably indignant. However, the wrath in his words as he raised everyone’s concern to Lucifer had tempered and caused a crack in their relationship–Lucifer kept more secrets, Beel became quieter, Mammon irritable, and the rest can only look at the scene helplessly.

This went on for several hundred years until the source of the rift got buried in time, and the distance it caused became irreparable. At times, she convinced herself that it had always been like that. That she had imagined the strained conversations and empty chairs and tables; that there were happy times too in between those storms; lively gossip over dinner and calmer evenings; laughter over the bonfires and friendly banters before bed. Lucifer was smiling, and Beelzebub looked carefree. Aged nectar caused everyone to speak more openly, and the drunken mood would loosen the Seraph’s lips and he would be back to their own beloved Helel again–childhood stories and fairytales; overcooked pancakes with eggshells for extra crunch. Lilith, in her own intoxicated state, would catch a glimpse of their younger selves as she clinked glasses with the nearby Belphegor–little Belphegor huddling up to Lucifer by a blanket with his eyes filled with childlike wonder. They were all smaller then, and fortunately more blissfully ignorant. Now, it was lost in favour of filling in their inevitable roles as they grew their own sets of wings and finished memorising their Psalms. By dawn, the magic was over and all that was left were liquid regrets and forgotten promises.

She didn’t shed tears anymore as she tried to remember each similar night (or what could be best described as night in Heaven with its eternal light), nor did Belphegor ask her to cry and scream and be angry–to stop pretending she didn’t have emotions like the rest of them.  He was tired too, but he didn’t know what to do.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it, Lilith.”

“But-”

“It might affect your apprenticeship. You want to be a Virtue, don’t you?”

“...okay.”

So Lilith stayed the same as she was when everyone changed. She was the same bright-eyed, blonde menace who ruined Lucifer’s books and plotted small grievances to Asmo’s unfaithful mortal admirers. She was the same sister Belphegor would sleep on treetops with, while an unknowing Raphael searches for both of them in vain. She was Beelzebub’s most faithful fan and believed in him when he thought he couldn’t pass the Cherubim exams and was the loudest at saying how proud she was of him that he proved everyone wrong. She was the shoulder Mammon cried on when he drinks a little too much, and the ‘Lucifer’ who tells him “It’s okay, Mammon. You’ll always be good enough,” and also the Lilith who “forgets” about it the moment he sobered up.

“Lady Azrael never took apprentices so this is a rare opportunity. I heard Beelzebub recommended you relentlessly and Lucifer had finally spoken with her.”

“...I did hear.”

"Good-” “Hey Belphie?” their voices overlapped.

“Yeah?”

“Perhaps putting figs in his pockets was a little too much…?”

She felt Belphegor’s hand on her head and saw him smile.

“I doubt he’s angry about that.”

She accepted his hug, breathing in sunshine and nectar, and sighed. "I'll say sorry to him once he's back."

"Mhm…that’s good."

But instead of a tearful reconciliation, the Seraph didn’t seem to be cross with her at all.

"Pack your bags. Tomorrow we’ll leave for the Higher Palace."

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"Tomorrow?!"

Lucifer closed his tired eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry for the short notice, but I have to drop you off early. Azrael and her attendants would be expecting you, so don't worry."

"No…I'm not worried about that." She held his face and made soft strokes on his cheek. "It's more hollow than usual. You haven't been eating…"

"...I'm fine."

"Lucifer…" she put her hands down and looked at the floor. "...about the figs I put in your pocket… Uhm…I’mreallysorry-”

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“!”

“?!?”

His eyes still looked tired, but he was showing her a rare smile. The seraph’s gentle gaze reminded her of sleepless nights and his lullabies after waking up from scary dreams. 

“Oh, so it was about the figs...”

“Y-yes?”

“They were delicious. Thank you.”

Eh? Did he like figs that much? 

“Y-you’re welcome!?” She guessed changing the sticky buns to figs was a smart decision. 

Well, Belphegor seemed to be right! She shouldn’t have apologised for n–

“Lilith, we’re not done talking. Sit down. ”

The patient smile he once had turned sinister, and Lilith dearly wished for his unsmiling face to return rather than the expression he was showing her now. She was thankful she didn’t scream-

“I know you. You’re my sister. I am used to your pranks. But…I couldn’t say the same for my colleagues.”

…because she really wanted to now. Lilith braced her ears and attempted to cover them only for the firstborn to stop her hands.

“Please don’t give Lady Azrael any reasons to worry over you. I will know. And once I know, you will suffer the consequences.”

EEEEEEP!

“Please don’t be nervous. Lady Azrael is a very gentle person.”

That’s not what she was nervous about! Even after several hours since Lucifer left, Lilith could still feel his obsidian-red eyes glaring daggers at her back.

‘Don’t even think about it, Liliatuel . I will know.’

She gets it! She gets it! Thanks to Lucifer’s grilling, she didn’t have the time to even take in her new surroundings. She knows the implications of her brother using her birth name. She heard him call poor Beelzebub Bael once when they were little and it left her poor brother traumatised! But don’t let Lucifer know that-

“We’re here, Miss Liliatuel-"

"What did you just say?" 

The attendant looked confused but answered. "We're here, Miss Lilith?" 

Oh, so she just misheard(Lucifer's lectures really were something else)-

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  “Woah!”

She had to cover her mouth to keep it from gaping. The Higher Hemisphere really didn’t have their illustrious prestige for nothing–it was bright and warm, and the halls and cobblestones were immaculately white. Stars littered the sky from faraway(the rumoured “Darkness” to which Father and his friend had thrown the stars to), causing a lovely contrast from the Light. It was a small veil instead of overwhelming darkness, and she couldn’t stop looking away as the stars seemed to dance around it.

The attendant noticed her awe and smiled. “Beautiful isn’t it? It’s all thanks to the First Angel that we get to see such a lovely sight.”

Lilith bubbled up in excitement as she hastily asked, “So he really exists?!”, before covering her mouth again and realising her impertinence. 

But the attendant didn’t seem to mind her question. “But of course. Though I suppose messengers don’t get to hear much about him. Ah, if you want to ask more questions, it would be best if you ask Lady Azrael herself.”

Lady Azrael was as beautiful and elegant as she was described. It was almost difficult to believe she holds the title “Angel of Death” with how opposingly radiant and full of life she was, and when Lilith asked her gentle mentor about her title, she was even very humble about it,

“It’s all thanks to the First Angel.”

“First Angel?”

There was sadness in her eyes as she answered. “Yes, we owe him a lot. He and Father made Heaven as beautiful as it is now.”

The other apprentices have already retreated to their quarters when she had asked Lady Azrael about the First Angel–in the Higher Hemisphere, one could easily tell it was nighttime when the thin veil of darkness would bleed through the light and scatter its stars like shadows. 

“What’s the First Angel like, if it’s okay to ask?”

Lady Azrael’s rose-coloured eyes seemed to glaze a bit before she answered, “He was very kind.”

Lilith sensed that her mentor seemed to be thinking deeply about something so she kept silent. “No, he was the kindest and gentlest angel of us all. Father holds him in high regard.”

Lady Azrael told her of the First Angel’s achievements and his glittering reputation amongst the Higher Hemisphere. Of how he created the Sea of Souls, how his powers had helped the Light and the Darkness coincide with each other in Heaven–of how he loved to look at the flowers tended by the Cherubims, and how he gifted each new Seraph a cluster of stars he called a constellation reflecting their heart.

But now…

“...is he…”

She didn’t understand Lady Azrael’s words, even after she pondered over it as she waited for sleep to come to her,

He’s doing better for himself. Or had. 

Did the First Angel leave? Or did he…just disappear? She looked up at the sky and recognised the constellation Lady Azrael mentioned was her brother’s.

True to his name, it was the brightest constellation of them all. 

“Could Lucifer know the answer?”

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The thought of even asking her brother the question is sending chills down her spine, so she decided against it and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come to her sooner.

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…elp…me…

am…I….ster…?

Someone was crying in her dream. Small, helpless, lonely. As she got nearer to the source of the sound, her surroundings grew darker, and all the stars in the sky seemed to have vanished.

…vy…it…burns…

“Ś̵̝̯̗̰͓̘̟̫͖͋̆̋́͠͠ͅą̸̡̛̖͍̙͙̩̲̻̤̝̦̯̼̦̘͚̄̃́̑̑́̓̈́͆̐̊͗̂̉͒̔̌͌̈́͑̀̾̏̈́̎̚̕m̶̗̭͇̝̻̖͖̩̞̼͓̻̯͎̥̱͖̩͔͎̝͖̟̥͎̙̠͋̈́̆͑͒͊͌̾̄̐̉̍̅̆͌̄͌͘͘̚͜a̴̛̖͙̺̱̐̒͌̀͛̇̓̐̐̀̅̇͛̉̇͊̈́̔͊͘̕͝͝͠ȇ̴̛͎̳̂͌̌̉̒̃́͊̅͑͛̆̇͗̉̈́̋̀͘͠͝ĺ̸̢̨̨̛͖͚̲͉̗̟̺͓̑̿͋̕͠͝ͅ?”

…and when she thought she had finally reached the source and stopped, that small frame finally faced her and…. ⚠️

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  ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠣⡑⡕⡱⡸⡀⡢⡂⢨⠀⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡕⢅⠕⢘⢜⠰⣱⢱⢱⢕⢵⠰⡱⡱⢘⡄⡎⠌⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡸⡸⡨⢸⢸⢈⢮⡪⣣⣣⡣⡇⣫⡺⡸⡜⡎⡢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⢱⠵⢹⢸⢼⡐⡵⣝⢮⢖⢯⡪⡲⡝⠕⣝⢮⢪⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⡮⠁⠐⠀⡀⡀⠑⢝⢮⣳⣫⢳⡙⠐⠀⡠⡀⠀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠣⠐⠀ 🔵 ⠀⠀⢪⢺⣪⢣⠀⡀ 🔵     .⠈⡈⠀⡀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡝⣕⢄⡀⠑⢙⠉⠁⡠⡣⢯⡪⣇⢇⢀⠀⠡⠁⠁⡠⡢⠡⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢑⢕⢧⣣⢐⡄⣄⡍⡎⡮⣳⢽⡸⡸⡊⣧⣢⠀⣕⠜⡌⠌⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡪⡪⠳⣝⢞⡆⡇⡣⡯⣞⢜⡜⡄⡧⡗⡇⠣⡃⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⢊⢜⢜⣝⣪⢪⠌⢩⢪⢃⢱⣱⢹⢪⢪⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠡⡑⠜⢎⢗⢕⢘⢜⢜⢜⠜⠕⠡⠡⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡢⢀⠈⠨⣂⡐⢅⢕⢐⠁⠡⠡⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⠢⠀⡀⡐⡍⢪⢘⠀⠀⠡⡑⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⢂⠀⠌⠘⢜⠘⠀⢌⠰⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 

⠀⠀⠀⢑⢸⢌⢖⢠⢀⠪⡂

    "̸̢̡̧̥̱͍͈̝̙̰̫̪̥͉̟́̎̊́̊̒̒̚̕͝L̷̰̻̞̞̮͍̺̭͆ͅí̴͇̠̖͓̫͓͇̗̜̤͚̘̲̲͐̄̈͛͗͗͛̿͜ļ̸̗̼͈̲͓̤̭̩͂͒͋ī̴̧͙̞̪̼̼̪͚̚t̴̤̮̰̱̘͍̼͍̫̳͑̊͛͆͋̉̓h̴̲͔̏͆̍̍͑̽̇̒̐̌̓͊͑̓͝?̶͙̙̙̝̎̈́͐̑͝"̵̦͛͗̈́̋̐̓̚

!!!!!

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 ⚠️

  “Hey, Lilith! Are you okay?”

…what was that? She was sweating all over, and her hands felt cold. 

What did she dream about?

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She couldn’t remember…

“Yeah…I’m fine. I think I just had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Her roommate asked, not really interested in the topic, as they were running late. “Well, I’m glad you seem fine now. Do you want me to call a healer just in case?”

She could still feel her hands trembling despite not recalling anything. Nightmares do not come often in Heaven, but they were forewarned that a majority of them might experience them as they adjust to their new surroundings. As much as Light was concentrated in the Higher Realm, so did Darkness exist. Lower ranking angels usually couldn’t stand Darkness and felt very ill even by just spending a few seconds in it. 

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But is that really the case?

…she tried to catch her breath as she answered. “No, but I might need to take half a day.”

“Another one down huh? Well, I hope you get better soon! Wouldn’t want to miss out on this rare opportunity, right?”

She only nodded at her roommate as she heard them promise to pop by with some food and nectar once her classes end.

…if only she really felt ill like her other fellow potential apprentices. 

As soon as she caught her breath, she decided to spend the first half of her day reading as much text as she could about the Higher Palace.

But half of her day was spent and she learned nothing useful. The following day when she decided to finally attend her classes didn’t help either. The Palace was beautiful as it seemed…enigmatic. If there were any secrets hidden beneath the Palace Halls, then she either had no access to them, or she was too ignorant and powerless to pick them apart.

However, she did notice she seemed to have the same nightmares every time she sleeps. She would wake up in cold sweat as if she had witnessed something really terrifying. Then, the nightmares became vivid enough that she began to remember hearing a voice.

…help me.

It said. The healer kept on telling her it was just the side effects–that perhaps because she was a messenger, she was experiencing it more. Virtue apprenticeships were usually only taken by at least archangels and principalities, after all. But as Lady Azrael had also come from an unconventional path herself (as she was a former Throne), she was more generous with her criteria and offered her invitation to anyone who passes the apprenticeship exams. The first time she heard this, she finally understood the double meaning behind Belphegor’s words:

“Lady Azrael never took apprentices so this is a rare opportunity. I heard Beelzebub recommended you relentlessly and Lucifer had finally spoken with her. ”

“...I did hear.”

Her dear older brother worried too much. And it hurt to realise he was right to take his sweet time to actually consider it. 

On another day, she decided to go to the second library near the banquet room but found herself in unfamiliar halls, with none of the manual's landmarks or helpful attendants in sight.

“Eh? This isn’t the Library…”

…Lilith could hear water.

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“This isn’t water at all. It’s nectar. How pretty…”

She didn’t know such a place existed in the Higher Palace. The beautiful crystal fountain sparkled iridescently as nectar flowed from its spout. She watched the ripples form on its mesmerising rainbows, and was only snapped out of her reverie when she heard a voice.

“That’s weird. How did an apprentice get here…?”

She immediately stood up and bowed to the person on instinct.

“I’m sorry! I was on my way to the Library and got lost. But…it was so pretty, I thought–”

The Higher angel shook his head and dismissed her worries with a reassuring wave of his hand. From the look of his uniform, he seemed to be…that’s odd. She couldn’t tell which rank he was.

“I’m sorry, Lord…?” He also seemed a lot younger than she was, but looks could be deceiving, especially in the Higher Hemisphere. His midnight eyes narrowed gently at her as his lips formed into a nervous smile.

“Ah, you don’t need to be so formal with me. I work as a healer’s assistant in the clinic. I think I remember Lord Zariel mentioning someone who matched your features. You’re…the messenger who kept having nightmares, aren’t you?”

!!

“No need to worry, Miss. This area isn’t open for apprentices which is why I was just surprised. But you’re right that it’s really pretty here.” 

He took a vial from his pocket and placed some nectar inside, sealing it shut with a cork. His long, midnight hair matched the colour of his eyes–like all of the Higher angels, he was incredibly beautiful. So Lilith was surprised when he mentioned he was a mere healer’s assistant. 

“As pretty as this place is, its name isn’t as such.”

“Eh?"

The assistant asked, "Do you know the story of The First Angel?"

Lilith nodded and recounted the several stories she had heard about him. The assistant nodded along, "Yes, that's right. The First Angel is Father's friend–he is neither like us nor was he like Father. But rather, a powerful being who helped Father establish the foundations of Heaven and governed the darkness and the stars."

That was the first time she heard that. She always assumed The First Angel was everyone's older sibling. She started to wonder if that was the reason why he left, but felt that it wasn't the right question to ask someone who is only basing his own answers on rumours, so she kept silent.

"Then….what is this place called and why is it so strange?"

The higher angel gave her an unreadable smile, “ The Place of Blighting.”

Blighting? Lilith looked at her spotless surroundings and grimaced. “That is strange.” 

“Haha! I know. The name doesn’t seem to match, doesn’t it? But…” He leaned in close to her as if whispering a secret in her ear. “They say that this place is cursed.”

Lilith felt the hairs on her back stand up at the assistant’s words. She was almost too scared to ask him more questions. "I-is that true?”

The mild-mannered assistant noticed her reaction and stuttered out, "Of course, these are only based on what I heard! Sorry…I didn't mean to scare you," and he was back to his more timid demeanour. "I got too excited."

Lilith shook her head. "It's fine! Can you tell me more about it?"

The assistant's eyes sparkled in excitement, giddy with the prospect of rare gossip in Heaven's Halls and leaned back, pointing at a spot on the floor. “They said that the marble floors here had been tainted by the darkness caused by the First Angel's tears."

"Tears?" That's odd. "Can our tears cause darkness?"

The assistant nodded in understanding, "Right? It's strange, isn't it? They said it's because the First Angel had been exposed far too long in the darkness that he's unaffected by it, but it didn't mean he could not carry it himself."

Something panged Lilith and made her clutch her chest, "That…sounds sad."

"?"

"Did he cry because he carried darkness?" 

The assistant looked at her with a soft smile, "You think that caused him to be sad?"

??

And it caused her to think deeper, "The First Angel sounds like an amazing person and seems to be the type who would shoulder his burdens on his own. I mean, most angels like me could not tolerate darkness, but you said he governs it. You never said he's not affected by it."

"...mhm. The heart can also be quite a burden I suppose."

"Pardon?" He was speaking so softly, that she couldn't really hear what he had said.

But instead of answering her, the assistant asked her another question, "Do you also he's lonely?"

"Perhaps," Lilith said. "If it were me, and I know I'm the only one who can handle doing something, and that something could endanger the people I care about…I would be lonely sometimes because I couldn't be with them, but I would still be happy….

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Mister?"

The assistant's midnight eyes widened a bit as she called for his attention and laughed, "I see…that's why…"

?

"Sorry, I have no one to gossip with. Everyone in the clinic is so uptight! Please ignore my weird questions."

"Ummm…no, I wasn't bothered…" but before she could even finish her sentence, he had started to speak again. 

"I have one last thing to show you."

Why was she here?

Everyone was fast asleep, except a few Thrones guarding the Palace Halls. After a meandering few minutes of trying to sneak past their security, she finally found herself in the place that the assistant  had told her:

They said that if you go around this corner, you will enter the borderline of Heaven and the Abyss. This is where they said they last saw the First Angel. Recite a small prayer when you see Michael's constellation in the sky and a pathway should open. 

She looked at the golden bracelet the Higher angel placed on her wrist, wondering if it would really help her from adjusting to the darkness.

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Is this really okay?

But the assistant's whispered rumours were so intriguing and detailed, she couldn't help but wonder if they hold even a smidgen of the truth–and what better way to know than testing it out herself?

She's just going to ignore the several parts of their conversation where he had explicitly warned her to not actually try the outrageous rumours he had shared with her.

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...this is a stupid idea.

If Lucifer catches her, she's done for!

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But…to be given that information and to not use it…

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But Lucifer…

But..

But…

AHHH!

"I'm just going to take a look. Just a look! After that, I'll go back and never come here again," Or so she tried to convince herself, but as each passing moment she spent, awed by the starking contrast of darkness and light separated by the huge, white walls of Heaven's Palace, the urge to fly around it seemed more and more tempting.

…elp me…

!!!

That sound…

Michael's constellation glowed brightly  in the veil of darkness above–but even with its light, Lilith couldn't seem to find the source of the sound.

Recite a small prayer when you see Michael's constellation in the sky and a pathway should open.

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She clasped her hands in prayer.

"Pater Noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen."

The seemingly endless walls separating the Light and Darkness suddenly had a huge door, and it had opened as if welcoming her.

!!!

Her bracelet was glowing. 

Help me…

And the crying voice had finally gotten louder. As she followed the path leading to the voice, she heard that door closing, but she didn't look back. Her surroundings were really dark, and if not for her bracelet, she would have not been able to see anything. Wherever part of the darkness she was in, it surely wasn't the one where the Seraphim's constellations were. 

.

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"Excuse me, you said you needed help?"

She thought the person crying was a child, but when she took a closer look…they looked to be around the same age as her.

The person's sniffling stopped, and they looked up at her with tear-stained eyes. "Y-you can see me?"

Lilith nodded and introduced herself. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Lilith. What's your name?"

"...."

?

"...sorry, but I don't remember…"

Eh?

Is it a side effect of staying in the darkness for too long? From what she could see from the small light her bracelet had emitted, the angel had the same number of wings as her and…

"You're wearing the same uniform as me." Although theirs seemed a bit outdated. "Are you also a messenger?"

The person stopped crouching and stood up to face her. "Mhmmm…I was."

Was?

"T-then…did you get lost? Are you also Lady Azrael's apprentice?"

"Lady…Azrael?" The messenger tilted their head.

…For a second, Lilith felt like she was hallucinating when the angel turned into a small child. But when she blinked her eyes again, there they were, standing there, looking the same. 

"Yes. She's a seraph currently taking in apprentice Virtues."

When the messenger looked like they didn't understand what she was saying, she sighed and let the topic go. "Nevermind…uhm, may I ask what you're doing here? How did you get lost?"

The messenger's eyes widened as if finally remembering something. She took a hold of Lilith's hand and said, "I need to find him!"

"Him?"

The angel nodded, "Yes. Him! I need to find Lord Samael!"

Samael?

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Who is Samael?

She wanted to ask them, but as soon as she tried to open her mouth, she felt the bracelet get warmer on her wrist. Almost burning–it was as if it were warning her to watch her words.

"Okay, I'll help you find him." The messenger smiled widely when she agreed to help them, and started pulling them to another entrance. 

"I've been trying to get inside for a really really long time, but…"

"It's locked shut?" She asked.

The messenger shook their head. "No. I can get in anytime but…I feel scared.

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N-not because of Lord Samael, of course! I-it's just…"

Lilith squeezed the angel's hand and smiled, hoping it would calm them down. "Well, I'm here now. I'll go inside with you. So why don't you talk to him once we find him?"

The angel looked at her and Lilith saw their lip tremble. "Mhmmm…thank you, Miss."

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The messenger knocked on the door.

  !!?!

  And just like before, the large double doors opened for them both. The bracelet on her wrist glowed a peculiar colour as they walked through the gates. Suddenly, she remembered the assistant's words:

"If you happen to meet The First Angel inside, don't look him in the eye." 

It was among the many rumours whispered upon the Higher Hemisphere. It didn't make sense to her at first, but as she went deeper and deeper inside the Darkness…

…and looked at the angel walking with her hand-in-hand, the fully grown adult form she had seen near the borderlines had turned into a child...

...the truth couldn't be anything else.

…Then…Lord Samael must be–

She felt her heart drumming loudly in her chest. 

The sound of waves…

Garbled gibberish…as if people were speaking….

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And a low, growling sound.

  She held the child's hand tighter. 

..

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It was coming closer.

Lilith took a deep breath and tried to remember the assistant's words again:

They said the First Angel rests within the Darkness, where you hear the waves from the Sea of Souls the loudest…

…He keeps a guardian beast. If you happen to run into it…

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"Stay still."

The messenger understood and followed her orders. Lilith held her breath as the creature got closer to them and one of its noses touched her cheek. Its flaming tails swished as it walked past them, losing interest.

*Clink!*

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…and she could finally breathe again.

"The waves are getting louder. It must be over there-"

But as they tried to get closer to the source of the sound, another door appeared before them. Lilith told the angel to knock on it again, but it didn't open. They tried this numerous times, to no avail.

"Does this mean he doesn't want to see us?" The small child beside her asked, holding back tears.

She wanted to cry too. They had come such a long way, it would be sad if their search would stop here! So, Lilith tried to think: is there any other way? Did she notice anything strange when they were walking around? 

She bent down and levelled her eyes with her small friend. "No, we just need to find a way to get inside! Don't worry! We'll see him soon!"

The child looked up at her pleadingly. "Really?" They seemed to have been comforted by her words. She nodded at them and patted their head.

"Let's see...I think I heard the three-headed beast drop something when it left."

The bracelet around her wrist grew warmer and brighter, casting long shadows. It emitted light bright enough for Lilith to be able to trace the source of the clinking sound she heard when the beast left. True enough, she found a key by retracing their steps.

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It must have dropped it when it walked past them earlier.

"There, you see? We found the key!"

"...really?"

"Mhm! Once we open the door, you can finally get to see him."

…So that they did. The door opened, and what greeted Lilith was…even more darkness. From the faint glow of her bracelet, she could see a tall, cloaked form.

"Lord Samael!"

It seemed to have been the First Angel, as the child rushed over to him and gave him a deep bow. Lilith tried to follow them but her bracelet grew warmer and warmer again, burning her wrist as if warning her again to not get close.

"Lord Samael…I finally found you!"

"!!! You! But...how...?"

…?

"If you're here…then…that means…."

His voice seems familiar.

"...yes, Lord Samael. I'm…sorry."

"..."

"I regret everything I told you. I'm really sorry."

"But…it's far too early-"

"...I was haunted…ry..d..y..of…w…t..I…have done…."

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…The bracelet was losing its glow, and Lilith suddenly felt a strong urge to close her eyes.

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"Lilith? Miss Lilith?"

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It was very bright.

When Lilith opened her eyes, she saw her new friend in her familiar, adult form. They offered a hand to her so she can get up.

"You're finally awake! Thank goodness!"

"Eh? You're–"

"Mhm…thanks to you, I finally got to apologise to Lord Samael."

Lilith smiled at them back. "I'm happy for you."

She looked at her wrist and the bracelet was gone. Then this means…

"Yes, you're in a dream right now. I don't have much time left to talk to you, but…I want to tell you everything before I leave."

"Everything?"

The angel nodded and held her hand. "Yes, everything."

A bright light surrounded them again and when Lilith opened her eyes, she saw her friend sinking with her.

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Sinking?!

She felt a warm light surrounding her wrist, but the bracelet was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she saw a small, cloaked form dive into the water. He grabbed her friend as he emerged from the Sea, asking them to wake up in a desperate tone.

"This is where it started." Her friend's voice said, but they were nowhere to be seen. She tried to look around to see where they might be, but she couldn't find them.

"Don't worry about it. You're currently in my memories…

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…see that child? That was me. I got lost while playing with my friends and wandered into the Darkness."

"!!!"

"Right? I was foolish and ignorant and didn't listen to my sister's orders. If I listened that day…"

Lilith looked over the direction her friend had been gazing, seeing the cloaked form struggling to keep them warm. She saw them smile sadly at the sight.

"...if I listened to my sister…I would have never made him sad."

The scene had changed, and they were suddenly in the clinic. Lilith recognised it as the clinic in the lower wing, albeit with more outdated equipment–or what she could make out of the equipment, at least. It was a mess–food and medicine were scattered all over the floor, and the curtain was ripped open. There, on the bed, she saw her friend's trembling form, repeating the words…

"Monster…" over and over.

"...I still regret what happened to this day. I've accepted I will pass on carrying it with me."

Lilith wished she could hold her friend's hand, but she could only ask them, "What happened?"

From what she was seeing in the scene, a Dominion that looked similar to her friend(possibly the sister they were talking about)was soothing the smaller them in her arms.

"I saw Lord Samael's true form that day. One that a mere cherub like me was unworthy of seeing."

"His true form?"

Suddenly, she remembered the assistant's words again:

"If you happen to meet The First Angel inside, don't look him in the eye."

"Yes…I saw it and told him some very hurtful things."

Monster.

She heard the smaller them again, trembling as they muttered it under their breath.

"...even after he saved my life."

The scene had changed again–her friend had grown older in that dream, and she could hear their sister’s voice from the other side of the door.

“..please….” 

…rotten food on the table, and their friend staring blankly from afar. A lot had changed over the years–the shock of seeing Lord Samael’s true form had gradually dissipated, leaving only bitter regret in their memories. The Seraphim had offered to have them erased. It was also something that Lord Samael had insisted on, but they refused. Within regrets were buried ambitions. If they become a seraph and worked hard, they can see him again. They can finally apologise to him. But what use are ambitions when you do nothing or are too fearful to achieve them?

No one knew of what happened to them once they went back to the Lower Hemisphere. It was what Lord Samael requested, they said. It must be kept a secret. Samael was aware of how they will be treated once everyone knew of what happened, so he begged Father to not punish them. It was, at least what the raven-haired seraph had told them a few days after the incident. That raven-haired Seraph had also given them a letter–it contained words of assurance, and kind words written under the assumption that they had their memories erased. It contained apologies, practically brimming at every passage…

…even though he was the one who was wronged. Even if they deserved all the punishments to come their way. The slighted only showed them kindness and vowed they will never see him again.

Because he was a monster and he could only bring death. He even thanked them for making him realise this and apologised for talking nonsense and wasting their time.

Lilith could feel a burning sensation in her chest as she heard her friend’s many thoughts.

It’s all my fault.

Lord Samael left because of me.

Because of me.

Because of me!

The last thing she saw in that dream was her friend standing atop a cliff in the human world. They had not become a seraph, nor did they have a happy and fulfilling life as he wished for them. Every day was only tears and regrets. Isolation and guilt. It imprisoned them for years and had their time wasted away. The only quiet moments they had were at sea, watching the waves hit the rocks from several feet below.  Lilith's friend closed their eyes and said,

“This is how you found me…”

“..and this is where I’m supposed to be…”

“I’m sorry…”

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*splash!*

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"Lilith, don't cry."

Despite saying that, Lilith couldn't do it. She felt their cold, translucent body embrace them, soothing her back that trembled as her heart was filled with the sinking regrets of their final moments.

"But, you were so young back then-"

"Mhmm, I was. I was offered kindness many times, but I kept on turning away. That was my punishment. But that's all there was. My story was over years ago. That isn't why I showed my memories to you."

"Then…why?"

Her friend paused, uncertain if they should burden her with their wishes.

"...it's a very selfish request. Are you still willing to hear it out?"

Lilith nodded at them and she heard them sigh.

"Lord Samael had not been the same ever since that incident..

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He had shut himself out because of me. He thinks he is a monster who can only bring death and darkness. 

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I've witnessed how lonely he was in here, punishing himself for even considering the thought of being happy.

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 He's an incredibly kind and gentle-hearted angel.

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It would make me really happy if you could be his friend and give him a chance, just like how you became mine."

Lilith looked up and saw her friend's peaceful smile.

"...thank you for being my friend, Lilith."

Lilith shook her head, trying to force herself to smile back.

"No, I should be saying that to you!"

Her friend's smile widened as they took her hand and kissed it.

"Lilith, please don't make the same mistakes as I did.

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Always look with your heart, and not your eyes."

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!!!

She was breathing heavily when she woke up again. She could see nothing in the darkness. The once faint light from her bracelet was now gone, and all she could hear was the crashing of waves from nearby.

"...thank goodness you're awake." 

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….and the sound of that familiar voice from above.

"Are you feeling okay?"

…It was strange. She should have never heard this voice before, but…

"...Lord Samael?" It felt like she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn't remember.

"...yes. You're…Lilith, right? They told me your name." She nodded.

"They also told me you helped them find me. You have my thanks."

He must be talking about her friend. She didn't really know which way to look, so she just answered him.

"It was nothing. I'm glad you two were able to make up."

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….umm…may I ask…I couldn't feel my feet on the ground. Where am I?"

She could hear his breath hitch as he stuttered out an answer. "Please forgive my rudeness. You were fast asleep earlier so I thought it would be best if I carry you back to the entrance as fast as I could. If you don't want me to touch you, please let me know. I mean…no. I should be saying sorry instead! I'm sorry, should I put you down? But please watch your step. There's no light here and-"

Pfft! 

"Eh? Did I say something funny?"

Lilith shook her head and answered in between breaths, "You don't have to say sorry!...Hahaha! Thank you, Lord Samael. I can walk the rest of the way."

The First Angel put her down as soon as she said that, and immediately bombarded her with questions about her health:

"Are you okay?!"

"It's really dark here, do you want me to pluck out a star so you won't trip?"

"Come to think of it, are you really okay?"

"Do you feel weak? Hurt anywhere? Any discomforts? Should I summon a Seraph so they can escort you back instead?"

…her friend was right. This person was incredibly kind. She answered each of his questions back with a smile.

"Yes, I'm okay."

"A light source would be lovely."

"I think so? I don't feel any discomfort. I'm okay for now, but I'll make sure to tell you if that changes."

Lilith heard Lord Samael fuss over her answer. He whispered some words to himself, and she felt a rough hand handing her over something, 

"It's a lantern. I called upon a star from afar to help us, so make sure to catch it."

Catch?

A bright streak of light was soon seen coming their way. Thankfully, she was able to catch it despite her surprise, and now she was able to see in the darkness. Clothes rustled next to her, and there she saw him, a tall figure struggling to cover his face. 

Don't meet his eyes.

"...please don't look this way, Lilith. Because..." She could practically hear the gears in his head turn as he made up an excuse. "...you might trip! Watch your step!"

Her heart clenched when she heard the sadness in his tone. It latched onto the dark, starless sky along with their soundless footsteps. She tried desperately to break the silence.

"Aren't you going to ask how I ended up here?"

The First Angel took a while to answer. He had been wondering this himself–no one should be able to go in and out as they pleased compared to before. But, he had a feeling he already knew the answer deep down, and he was just afraid to say it out loud. As strongly as he wanted to not cause any harm to others, he couldn't deny the place in his heart that longed for company. So instead, he answered her,

"Only if you are willing to share,"

"I'm very willing," so she told him everything (except for the mysterious bracelet and the equally mysterious assistant who told her the way)–her apprenticeship, Lady Azrael and her brothers; her duties as a messenger, her journey to get inside the darkness. She could hear an audible gasp from him at every detail. 

"You're Lucifer's sister?"

Lilith smiled. "Yes! Do you know my brother?" She thought he might have been smiling as he answered, "Yes, he's my friend."

Samael became less guarded once he knew Lilith was Lucifer's precious sister. And Lilith could feel it too–she was almost regretful she could see the light getting brighter and brighter with every step. She wanted to know more about him--about the Darkness, his friendship with Lucifer, the strange three-headed beast with flaming tails, but everything must come to an end.

"Ah, this is the Borderline. I opened a door for you, so you should be able to get back now."

"...I see."

Samael took the lantern from her hand, noting the hesitance in her tone.

"Is something wrong, Lilith?"

Lilith looked up at him, and Samael immediately looked away in surprise. 

She held the rough hands that tried to take away the lantern from her hand and finally spoke the words she was trying to hold back.

"What are you going to do after this?"

Samael sounded confused.

"I'm sorry?"

Lilith held his hands tighter. "Are you…will you continue hiding yourself away?"

Samael's eyes widened at her words. He bent his head down even lower so they wouldn't meet eyes. He didn't know what to say, so he kept silent.

"They told me everything. It isn't your fault, Lord Samael."

'Ah, so she knows.' Samael thought. Come to think of it, she didn't seem flustered even when she touched his hand. Instead, he felt her hold it tighter. Something seemed to spill in his heart–but he dared to not hope. Being himself already cost a life, and he wouldn't dare to have another life become a consequence of his own selfishness. 

"Please leave, Lilith. Staying too long in the Darkness isn't good for you."

So he pushed her away and walked back inside, but he heard Lilith's footsteps coming nearer--back into the deep darkness that had taken her friend away, so he had no choice but to stop.

"Then, can I come here tomorrow?"

Samael clenched his hand.

"No...please don't come here ever again."

He still felt Lilith's eyes on him as he turned his back.

"I'll keep coming here until you give me a different answer!"

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And she did. Every day, every night, she brought stories and laughter whenever she visited. Over time, he had learned to accept her presence in the endless darkness. She was a force so stubbornly relentless that she even earned Cerberus' favour. The creature was so fond of her, it even let her touch its heads.

She told him of numerous things: the pranks she did to Lucifer. The lessons she excelled in during her apprenticeship. The constellations, the fond memories the Higher Angels had of him–of how he was remembered and missed in the Palace Halls. How she realised he was the friend his dear older brother had been looking for. 

"You're not a monster, Lord Samael," Lilith told him one day, bringing aged nectar and her favourite figs. She swished her glass and took appreciative sips, kissing one of  Cerberus' heads as the creature seemed to sigh helplessly, used to her antics.

"I'll prove it to you now!" She hiccuped, approaching him as she held his cloak. 

Samael carefully tried to pry her away from him, asking Cerberus to put away the rest of the bottle. "You need to drink some water.

But as used to the darkness as she was now…she was still inebriated and lacked her usual…grace (or lack thereof). A fig rolled over her feet as she took another step, and ripped the hood of Samael's cloak as they both landed on the ground. The star in the lantern seemed to wince as well when she had dropped it, casting light near Samael's face.

!!!!!

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… 

Don't meet his eyes.

  What face was she making now? Was she smiling? Laughing?

She could see his eyes widen when their eyes met. He made her sit up, his scaly claws fussing over her non-existent injuries. 

"Are you okay?"

She couldn't breathe.

…

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She wanted to run away.

She finally understood what her friend meant when they said Lower Angels aren't worthy of seeing his true form.

Perhaps deep inside, she thought she was different. That only she would be able to help him. That she wouldn't be as scared because she knew the story behind his isolation.

So she ignored her rapid heartbeats, and the numbness from her hands as she held his face and tried not to look away.

His eyes were as blue as the oceans in the human world. 

It was beautiful. That's right. His eyes were beautiful. She could finally feel herself smile.

"See? I told you. You're not a monster."

And perhaps she did something right by him. Those beautiful, blue eyes closed themselves as she felt his tears on top of her head. 

"Really?" He said again. And she wrapped her arms around him and thought how beautiful his voice was as well as it echoed in the darkness.

"Of course," she knew the truth deep down, but a part of her felt disgusted for answering him about what she truly felt. Was it really her truth? Or was it the truth she felt that she needed to say to him?

"You're not a monster at all."

...She didn't want to know. 

"You really have the nerve, don't you? Imposter!

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Seeing you smile is even more irritating. Don't you have anything to say?"

"...I didn't know what the prophecy meant at the time. I supported her, thinking their happiness will come easily. I suppose I was too hopeful."

"...because you got too conceited, knowing her fate and not his."

"Regrettably so."

"Among your many?"

"..."

"What happened to Nathan was also the same error."

"...yes."

"You throw the worst tantrums and you aren't even a child."

"I cannot deny that."

"...well, I'm going to take a quick break. I'll continue the rest while I'm back."

"...of course. Some tea and biscuits will be nice."

"You!

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...hah, fine."

🌼masterlist

🌼next chapter

[holly-fixation]

Inked SOLDIERs: Chapter 1

A sequel to Ink Clouds.

Summary: Ink Clouds focused on the direct effects and suffering of geostigma creature Cloud Strife. Inked SOLDIERs focused on the fall out of the stigma creature's and Sephiroth's impact on the world. With less time and greater suffering, will the remaining SOLDIERs be able to save the planet from the Calamity's son? Or will the One Winged Angel finally claim victory?

Based on the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Please Enjoy!

Author's note: I am incapable of finishing a story apparently. Writing those final paragraphs of Ink Clouds felt like its own prompt to me. I wanted to continue it. This was not what I had planned, I assure you. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Aftermath of Mother

Sephiroth jumped. He jumped, with the body of a monster, into a pool of active mako. Mako, reformed and flowing for the most efficient power generation on the planet, enhanced in all abilities, that seared the skin at a touch unless treated and diffused as it is for tanks, treatments, et cetera. He didn't even look at them, his only friends. His comrades. He never gave them the chance to try, to do anything to convince him truly, to protest or argue or logically rearrange his thoughts and show him how his insanity wasn’t him, looking only ahead to the creature he called Mother.

What in all the gods’ names was happening?

All three of the SOLDIERs rushed and dropped to any platform sturdy enough for their weight: mako pipes, glass floors, beam supports, anything to land on and close enough to stop him. They were not fast enough. They were not skilled enough. They were not enough. Angeal accepted this truth first as Genesis and Zack continued their descent, waiting on the glass platform. Zack and Genesis halted at the lowest pipe above the green river, swearing they could see their reflections in the mako itself, but no sign of the man they failed to save.

“Zack…” Angeal was the first to break the silence after the movement stopped. “Genesis…”

Genesis glared down at the pool in ire. His body was frozen, but his hands clenched in defeat, the final loss he would be handed by Sephiroth.

Zack, on the other hand, reached down with a hunched back and virtually kneeled to get as close to the stream as possible, as if as if the black gloved hand of his mentor would break through the toxic surface. But he stopped himself with quick hesitation, then glanced at the First next to him before looking up. “...Nothing…” His young voice shrilled against his suddenly tight and dry throat with the force of the yell he wanted to let out but retained. The redhead next to him, lost all the will to do so.

Genesis screamed.

Both of his friends flinched at the piercing sound, the gut wrenching, desperate, intangible fury, before Zack regained enough bearings to grab Genesis. He did not stop the echo of pain, but he was not losing another friend today.

Genesis watched Zack force himself into his eyeline, visibly breathing with slow, exaggerated, mimickable rhythm. It only took three breaths, and his mind was clear enough to speak, though gods only knew why he did, angrily. “Do you fly away now, to a world that abhors you and I?”

Good. He’s quoting Loveless again. That means he can at least control himself enough to leave the bottom of this reactor. Genesis had always made a clear show of his emotions. But now they had to move, at very least get out of this godforsaken place. He needed a distraction.

“...I’ve never heard Loveless from the beginning,” He presented his idea quickly, coming up with the only challenge he assumed the redhead would enjoy, or at least take the bait of. “Can you recite it completely?”

He exhaled with emptiness, barely any life in his breath. “I am not a child...” He explained coldly. “You need not distract me. Nothing more can be done...”

Zack nodded once but his eyes did not leave the First’s. “Are you ready?”

Genesis gave a reluctant, curt nod. Nothing more could be done.

Angeal was ready to help their ascent, though none of them were injured so none of them needed help, climbing up to the surface alone.

Despite this, Genesis looked back at the altar one last time. “The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess… Farewell, my friend.”

* * *

The way back to Nibelhiem was anything but peaceful. All the monsters that avoided them completely on the way to the reactor were now itching, craving battles with passerbys.

Good.

They needed it. All of the Firsts needed any fight they could get, grief already woven into their systems and cemented into their very beings, their hearts, their minds, their control, which would never truly be the same again. Their battle cries, shouts, screeches echoed into the cold Nibel night as they slashed, casted, destroyed, breaking any limit to their strength just to release this newfound anger on enemies, not each other. Their location did not matter. The side of a mountain, the tip of the peak, the bottom of a valley, none of it mattered. Nothing mattered.

Until they battled on a bridge, and the ropes snapped.

They scarcely made it to Nibelhiem after the sun rose, maneuvering the unknown terrain as effectively as lost chocobo chicks, taking every wrong path possible on the way to their destination. Shinra manor was barely in sight when they saw the young blonde running towards them.

But the boy froze when he saw the looks on their faces. Gods, what did they look like right now? He hesitated, closed his eyes, and swallowed before looking at them once again.

“...What happened…?” He was panting, breathless, probably exhausted from putting out the fires last night and waiting for them to return.

“Report, SOLDIER Strife,” Genesis ordered blankly, if only to delay the inevitable news a little longer, and using the boy’s last name would absolutely scare him enough to get his report first.

“Uh- Well… While we were stopping the fire last night, the creature…” Oh no. He hesitated before answering quickly, “The creature escaped.”

All of their eyes went wide, the white of despair burning into them.

“It just…” He was confused. Were there no signs of this coming? “It just broke out of the tank, attacked the cadets, and ‘ran’ out of Nibelhiem during the chaos.”

“Do you know where it is?” Angeal questioned with concern.

To their dismay, the boy shook his head. “We think it went back into the ocean. We already contacted HQ so helicopters will be surveying the ocean for ink spots soon.” He turned away. “But we don’t know why it did that. It was perfectly content the entire ride here and didn’t seem to mind the manor. It just…snapped, according to the cadets.”

“Do you have any idea when?”

“Who are we kidding,” Genesis scoffed. “We don’t know when.”

Cloud’s blue eyes narrowed in confusion. “How would you know? What happened?”

“...Sephiroth is dead…” Zack spoke in a quiet, hollow voice.

“...What?” He did not believe what he just heard.

“He jumped… Into the mako… with a monster’s corpse, willingly…”

Cloud could only describe the timbre of Zack’s voice as betrayal. “...No…” He denied. “No- There’s… There’s no way he’s dead. He… he can survive anything.”

“He didn’t come out of the mako, Cloud.”

“But… but why?!” He was confused, not yelling, just confused.

“Because it had the same name as his 'mother'!” Zack bursted.

“Because it was his mother!” Genesis shouted over Zack, getting more confused looks in response. “It wasn’t his birth mother but that’s the only mother he’s ever been told about. We never got the chance to explain and now he is at the bottom of the lifestream if he hasn’t completely dissolved yet!”

“Genesis,” Zack called to calm him down.

“Down, puppy. Don’t do this right now.”

“Do what? Help?!”

“Both of you, stop it,” Angeal finally cut them off, and both SOLDIERs reluctantly listened to their almost parental like friend. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s just pass out, at the inn, and talk later, okay?”

“...He started it,” Genesis mumbled as he crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry, which one of us is younger?”

“Zip it.” Angeal scolded. “I’ll write the report when we get to the inn. You two, take the beds and rest.”

They both grumbled like school children, but relented just the same. They were silent for the rest of the short walk.

“Cloud,” Angeal called, gaining the boy’s full attention. “Did anything else happen when we were gone? What’s the damage to the town?”

“It’s all included in R&D’s report. They’ll probably want yours to add to it as well.”

He groaned at the prospect of dealing with a scientist today, after all they have learned. “Gotcha.”

Once at the inn, the SOLDIERs refused to explain anything to anyone before they wrote the report. In the lone room on the second floor, each one of them sat on each bed, staring forward, with only Angeal holding a tablet for paperwork. In silence, they could finally form their thoughts, despite Angeal’s insistence on both of the others resting.

“...He can’t be dead,” Zack was the first to speak.

“Denial.” Genesis complained, leaning the back of his head against the wall.

“I think we're past the first stage of grief, Genesis.” Zack retorted coldly. “I mean literally, he can’t be dead,” He could not think of an even remotely logical explanation for the last event that occurred at the reactor. “Why would he jump into the lifestream if he would just die?”

“To be with his ‘mother’?” He answered incredulously.

“We met his real mother at the waterfall.”

Both of the other SOLDIERs leaned forward and stared at him.

“...What?”

“In the waterfall, she was in a crystal, never told us her name-” They both stared at him like he was crazy. “-but she said she was a part of the ‘Jenova Project’ and she offered up her unborn child to the cause. Him.”

Angeal and Genesis glanced at each other, clearly thinking of something else. “It was him…”

“What was?”

Angeal looked to Zack first and explained, “We found a hidden, underground lab under Shinra Manor. At least a hundred books on the JENOVA project and a ‘Project S’.”

No one needed to speak to understand what that meant. They paused to process the next thoughts they would voice. He grew up in the Shinra Building. He never talked about his childhood. He hates R&D, specifically Hojo. Hojo.

“Hojo… That bastard…” Zack spoke softly while unconsciously shaking his head. “Was he the one behind the project?”

“It only mentioned a ‘Professor Gast’,” Genesis countered. “Nothing of that rat.”

“I don’t think rats are as slimy as he is.”

Genesis let out a single laugh. “Ha! We can agree on something, puppy.”

Zack gave an annoyed but understanding smirk at the comment with a wave of his finger before Angeal cut them off.

“We’re off topic,” He looked to them both. “...I believe you, Zack. After all the weird things that happened but… what do I tell Shinra?”

“Hm…” the black haired boy leaned back and tried to form a response. “That he abandoned Shinra?”

“Cameras,” Genesis chided. “At least on the outside. We can’t say he went in and never came out.”

“It wasn’t like we were ‘business as usual’ when we left either,” Angeal sighed.

“...Then can we make a request?”

“What kind?”

Zack took a heavy breath before answering. “If we tell them Sephiroth is dead, can we be the ones to clean out his apartment?”

“Go on.”

“He has no family, and they probably don’t want to waste the resources on clean-up if we offer. The creature made at least two drawings when it was in the bathtub,” He held his head softly in slight frustration, “And who knows, maybe he left more evidence of what was happening to him…”

They nodded. Both of them. They were all in agreement, and Angeal wrote the report:

SOLDIER, First Class, Sephiroth: Killed in action at the Nibelhiem reactor. Nibelhiem: village fire stabilized, no casualties. Stigma Creature: escaped, possibly in the Central Ocean. Central Waterfall: Nothing to report. Shinra Manor: Nothing to report. Reach R&D for more information.

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Thanks for reading!

To be continued...>>

[rubifer]

Orison

Ficlet written for Raphael day of @spnarchangelweek, inspired by the prompt Fearless! Gen, 604 words, no particular warnings.

Orison, n. [ ˈȯr-ə-sən ]: a prayer.

“Are angels ever afraid?”

The question, whispered against a brightly-coloured children’s Bible, catches Raphael by surprise. They pause in their ruminations, tilting their head ever so slightly, and listen. They don’t do it often, but unlike their siblings, they still sometimes tune in to the meaningless chatter of humanity’s prayers. They never reply, of course. They have more important things to do than indulge in petty queries.

The voice is young, tinged with childish sorrow that Raphael knows will be gone in the morning. If they close their senses, they could probably feel the nocturnal breeze tugging at the child’s tight curls. Or hear the sharp screeches of the barn owl beside her stone house.

But they do not. They stay still, curiosity piqued – a rare occurrence, these days.

It isn’t often that someone prays to Raphael, least of all with such an intriguing opening question. But they are certain the child is praying to them. Her voice rings with intent that just barely rises off the Earth. There’s an illustration of Saint Raphael on the page she’s opened her Bible at – a wildly inaccurate one, of course (they’ve never been one to smile so gracefully, for one. Not to mention the flowing golden hair). But it is them nonetheless.

“Can you even be afraid? Is it in your DNA, or whatever?”

And here, the voice twinges with an almost imperceptible quiver. Raphael stays silent.

“Cause if you can’t, then…” Somehow, they sense the furrow of her brow. “It’s a bit pointless, telling us not to be scared all the time.”

There’s a tug at Raphael’s attention – an angel is asking them for guidance regarding Heaven’s involvement in Northern Europe. They respond, of course (they do not ignore his siblings like they usually ignore humanity), but they keep an ear out for the rest of the prayer.

“Not that you ever told anyone that – kind of why you’re my favourite angel, to be honest,” she adds with a chuckle. Raphael blinks. They’re not sure anyone has ever told them that. Not that they mind, of course. Words are irrelevant, and so are the favours of creatures so transient.

“But if you are afraid,” she continues, “I wonder what could really scare an angel. And if even you guys are scared, then how could we ever feel safe? You know?”

There’s a silence then, lodged in between the fluttering of their siblings’ wings. Raphael sends instructions to their subordinates, and almost loses the wisps of prayer that follow.

“This doesn’t make much sense, but… I kind of wish you were afraid, anyway. We’d be the same, then. I’d be like an angel, or an angel would be like me.”

Raphael jolts back, overtaken by a sudden wave of – what? Derision, disgust, disinterest, unease? They roll inside his core like underwater currents, and Raphael feels the storm brewing below the surface.

They stop listening to the blasphemous prayer.

Angels are not afraid, Raphael would have said, were they in the mood to project their ire towards a puny human child. Angels do not succumb to base animal instincts. Angels were born from and into their Father’s all-encompassing Love. There is no room for fear with the Almighty.

Well, at least there wasn’t before He died.

But to feel fear now would be to waver. And Raphael does many things, but they do not waver.

So they wave the prayer away from their consciousness, and don’t even grace it with a parting glance.

Raphael has a job to do, and they will do it unflinchingly, with none of the fear so antithetical to their late Father’s will.

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader:

Buy me a coffee!! <3

"Remind me again why I had to let you go, kid? Do they really think they can protect you better than I can?" He chuckled dryly into the phone. "That's quite a hefty claim. Let's hope it has substance."

You sighed, although the shiver of amusement in your voice didn't escape notice. "Why do you call me that? I'm only four years younger than you."

"What? Would you prefer I call you 'Vixen', or 'Pup'? How about 'Kit'?" At the names, you could feign ire, but only for a short while.

Keigo's voice soothed a modicum of the longing in your heart. "I...I miss you."

He cooed. "Aww, I know, baby. I miss you too. D'you want me to come over later, give you some more stuff? I think you've got a few of my jackets...might wanna patch them up, though. Wing holes'll make your back cold."

"I'm fine, Kei...you don't have to cause a scene, just to bring me stuff. My quirk doesn't act up that much, and my room's already covered in your scent. And...if I covered up the slits in your jackets, they wouldn't seem like yours anymore..."

Those words entertained thoughts and memories some might covet, though only without the rueful addition of time. Those existing within the moment, the present moment, were less subject. You preferred them, but time rarely stopped, or rewound. It sullied every memory. It killed every thought, every shred of joy. You were supposed to live with Keigo, work alongside him, be present for each new memory. You'd felt obliged, or perhaps pressured, to move to UA Heights. You had no wish to be separated from Keigo, nor any real responsibility for the safety of your class. But the mantra 'safety in numbers' rang as true as ever, and you hadn't wanted to be the odd one out.

"You sure?" He paused, waiting to hear your muffled 'Hmm', before returning to complain about the conduct of UA. "They plucked you from the nest, kinda abruptly. I know it's your school n' all, but, you're 18...we just bought that house!! I never know what to do when I get back and you're not there. It feels wrong. I don't like it."

Guilt pricked at your eyes, but in your heart, you knew it had no place. "I don't like it either, but...my classmates. I couldn't leave them. Everyone's here, and...and I'm perfectly safe. You don't have to worry about me, Kei."

"I shouldn't. I know that, but...you're still my beautiful angel, y'know? I can't help being a little apprehensive. It's not really a new environment for you, but you're away from the nest...you're away from me. But you'll graduate soon, I guess, so you'll be home in no time. Just gotta look at the positives."

His encouragement sounded very...self-directed. Had you not been biting back a symphony of heartbreak, you might've laughed. It seemed ludicrous, your sadness misplaced or heightened to theatrics. But this relationship meant everything to you.

Keigo was right, of course, and not simply talking out of his ass. "Mm, March isn't that far off. It'll be hard, but...it's gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay. Just...Just say this won't break us, that it won't destroy what we have...?"

"I'd never let it. You know I wouldn't." He listened for any sniffle, any trace of a tear - between his quirk and his attention, he could hear those things as clear as crystal, even through the phone. "We'll be fine. Of course we will. I can still watch over you, no problem, and we can meet on Sundays, if there aren't too many villains..."

"Yeah...I'd like that. You still saving a place for me at your agency?" You hummed, ears straining to hear his every breath. Your tail hadn't lifted from its perch between your legs; it mirrored the sorrow that bloomed evermore in your heart.

Though, his laugh could brighten you slightly. "D'you still want it?"

"Absolutely. I've seen you in action, Keigo. You're pretty incredible." Your words made him flush, a glimmer of accomplishment, of pride, flitting across his eyes.

This was the antithesis of normality - for Keigo, at least. The character he played in the midst of public scrutiny, his persona...it was cocky and suave, but calm and void of fear. The reality was very different. Keigo's fears ran deep - he feared the violent hand of his father, he feared being tossed to the side by the ones who pulled his strings, and, most terrifying...he feared losing you. You were so precious, yet so addictive. He'd never had the strength, nor the heart, to release you. He'd always assumed his love was a cage, and yet...you seemed to like it. The captivity...it was akin to a warm, fuzzy blanket.

You made him realise that Hawks, the hero and Keigo, the man...they weren't the same. The identity he'd been forced to relinquish...it was still him! That quiet little boy...he was still in there somewhere. You helped him find himself. But this time, the hurt and shame...you didn't let them in.

"Reclaim yourself - your name, your life...don't give them so much against you."

It was, however, mostly trial and error. He hadn't ever found comfort in his identity. Not until the advent of your relationship. And even then...

"You're pretty incredible yourself, dove. Everything you've done for me, everything you've said...I want you to know how much I appreciate that. Without you, I...well, you already know." He smiled, and although the distance eclipsed it from your eyes, somehow...you knew it was there.

You smiled too, in an act of solidarity and love. "Yeah...I know."

[Word Count: 939]

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Update to Soft Cover: Of A Feather, a story about an ice church at the bottom of the world and some angels, one fallen, one demoted. Request by @snowmanmelting that I am very VERY late on, but hopefully that will all be forgiven after reading xD

Can also be read below

Anna breathes deeply in the freezing, near arctic air of the church around her. The chill settles in her lungs, pooling in swirls before the heat of her body changes her exhale into a foggy cloud. She repeats the action again, focusing on the divine energy in her veins, the radiance of her feathers, and the glow of the halo above her head.

Anything to distract her from how ungodly cold her butt is on this literal ice floor.

Distracted, a chill leaps up Anna’s spine. Goosebumps shiver down her arms and she sighs, opening her eyes. The deep blue of the ice encompasses her, a place of worship carved from the glacier itself. Marvelous and stunning, a true feat of engineering, sculpting, and faith. Remarkable, beautiful.

Cold.

As more shivers rack her celestial body, Anna’s teeth begin to chatter. Repositioning herself a little, Anna attempts to resume her solitary meditation and prayer, but with a glum pout, she recalls instead the warmth of summer air and rustle of leaves in trees full of life and vigor. So different from her current surroundings - where once she enjoyed a place of open space and sunlight against skin, now Anna trembles in the cold and dark, where the sun holds no warmth and blinds instead of caresses.

And it’s all her fault.

But it’s fine. A century or so of consistent devotion and guidance for humanity will put Anna right back where she was, enjoying the breeze under her wings and the sparkles of the stars over the water. Patience is a virtue, she reminds herself as she closes her eyes once more, one that she has in spades. Or she will if she simply asks - being an angel and all, it would be granted immediately. Anna reaches for the tether to her divinity, a golden Light in her mind’s eye, feeling herself settle back to recharging the church with holy presence and serenity.

Until the resounding clack of steel-toed boots echoes throughout the chamber, shattering her focus and winking out the Light like a candle.

Anna scrambles to her feet, heart in her throat. Quickly she checks her glamor (a hand at her head, wrist, and knee) and adjusts the hang of her clothes. Simple white cloth, pinned at her shoulder, cinched at her waist. Her feet are bare as they press against the ice floor. The echoes continue and a shadow moves down the hall where the main room becomes a long hallway leading to the outside. The church is hardly ever  closed and people come and go as they please in the days between services, but it is unusual that Anna would not sense them. Unusual also to not hear the heavy wooden doors groan open to admit the visitor.

Regardless, Anna concentrates on making herself presentable. Be they godly, then Anna is prepared; be they human they will find an empty hall for them to do what they need, unaware of the angel in the room, ready to assist.

The shadow proceeds across the wall, closer with every step. Anna tilts her head at a curious sound. Thick boots for crunching through ice and snow are typical this far beneath Earth’s equator, but these shoes don’t sound… right. They are loud for certain, but light, with a rhythmic one-two as opposed to the heavy clump of the whole boot. Perhaps a wanderer, Anna thinks, or a tourist.

But tourists typically gasp and “ooooh” and “aaaah” at the decor, walls, and sacred objects on display.

Not hopscotch back and forth on their toes while muttering curses.

Suddenly, Anna knows who this is. It’s really a shame she didn’t get around to asking for that Patience, because right now, she’s going to need every ounce that God has ever produced.

“Helloooooo!” Comes a cheery, high pitched voice. “Anyone home?”

A woman arrives around the corner. About average in height, slim in build, with pale skin, gleeful blue eyes, and long, unbound white hair. The strange footfall Anna had heard made perfect sense now as the woman steps further into the room, head turning this way and that, as her heels click and rebound in the icy chamber. She is certainly NOT dressed for the weather. No thick coat or furred gloves, no goggles or padded leggings - nothing at all remarkable - in fact she wears a similar outfit to Anna’s except in black. Simple cloth, pinned at her shoulder, cinched at her waist, baring her arms and calves.

No. Not a visitor at all.

A trespasser.

Anna folds her arms and scowls. With a mighty and decisive huff of air, she drags the Light from within her and fills the chamber with holy energy.

The woman notices immediately, yelping in surprise as though she’s been pinched.

“Unnecessary,” the woman grouses, her eyes tightening slightly in pain, “but I knew you’d be here. Hiding as usual.” She scans the room again, eyes roaming past Anna once, then twice, before a grin breaks out on the woman’s face. “Where are you, little angel?”

Anna will not play this game. This woman’s actions and appearance bely her nature, and her presence in this place is not only unwelcome but forbidden. Ire rises in Anna and she pushes it out, raising the temperature in the room and causing the interloper peering between the pews to wince.

Even a demoted angel does not allow a demon to wander into her home so casually.

The woman continues her search, even as the seconds tick by and the energy in the room gives the icy walls an ethereal inner glow. The floor becomes too hot for her tastes and she hops up on a pew, balancing herself, arms out to her sides as she continues wandering around the room, making smaller and smaller concentric circles. She gets closer, despite the angel’s best efforts. With one last shove, Anna manifests her wings, all seven feet of bright white glory nearly burning to the touch, fills the room with crackling energy - and this time the woman does stop. She loses her footing mid-step, dropping to one knee. Sweat beads on her brow and as Anna watches the trespasser struggles briefly to raise her eyes in Anna’s general direction.

“Ah, there you are,” she gasps, grunting as she rises and makes her way forward. Anna’s focus drops for a moment, surprised, and this is all the confirmation the woman needs. In hardly a moment, she is right before Anna, nearly eye to eye, though she looks right through the angel because of her glamor. Invisible. Unbreachable. Unflappable.

“Hello, angel,” the woman says, raising her hand and pressing her pointer finger smartly on the tip of Anna’s nose.

Not un-boopable, apparently.

In an instant Anna’s glamor falls away, the heat and energy she’d gathered flooding into the floors and walls.

“What’s with that face?” The woman smiles with good humored teasing.

Anna shakes her touch off and backs up a step. “How did you know where I was?”

The woman shrugs carelessly, “You were the angriest spot in the room. Pretty easy, all things considered.”

Anna bites her tongue, a boiling explicative at it’s tip. Swearing isn’t particularly Godly, and it would probably just make the woman laugh.

“I thought I would come and check up on you,” the demon continues, “because I haven’t seen you in some time. Not since the penguins had their chicks.” Anna looks down, pretending to find some interesting crack in the ice floor.

So she’d noticed Anna’s presence back then. Watching over a bouldered hill as the demon meandered around the flock like they were her own family and neighbors. Huh…

“Well it’s been nice seeing you,” Anna replies abruptly, “but you’d better leave.”

“So soon?” The woman blinks innocently. “But I just got here.”

“You’re not even allowed in here. Besides, I’m busy,” Anna scowls. She hopes her expression is enough to convince the demon to leave her, and this place, alone. Still waiting on that Patience virtue, and Anna’s personal reserves are already running on empty.

The woman tilts her head, and Anna has to remind herself that any compassion she might see in those eyes is a lie. “Still trying to summon enough power to charge this place? You’ve been trying for, let’s see, a few months now? With how low attendance has been lately, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Church is more than just a place, but one of it’s core requirements is members. People who come and go and frequent, creating a routine, a rhythm, a recognized space. A guardian angel assigned to a church takes over for generating that energy when the members are gone. The ice church had very few visitors to begin with, and tourists didn’t tend to devote time to energizing a place. So Anna often spent her days locked in meditation, channeling her divinity into the ice around her.

A grueling, thankless task.

“Well you should be done by now,” the woman muses aloud, taking stock of the room.

“I would be,” Anna growls, her hands balling into fists, “if someone didn’t keep interrupting me!”

“If you just looked--”

Anna sighs and draws her hand down her face. “Elsa…” Then she flinches. Between her fingers, Anna peeks at the woman in front of her.

Oh, if that was ever a Chesire grin.

“In honor of you using my name, I’ll stop beating around the snow mound,” Elsa beams, her ice blue eyes sparkling with merriment and cheer. She points to the ceiling, other hand cocked confidently on her hip. “See anything new up there, angel?”

Surely this demon has to be pulling her wing, but Anna complies and looks up, expecting the blank, dark surface of the thick oceanic ice.

Not so.

The ceiling is alive with Light, shimmering like the Aurora Australis. The ice seems lit from within by winking stars, the deep blue shot through with purples and greens and golds. The greatest Light of them all gathers in the center of the ceiling above their heads, bright and full. The sign of a fully charged house.

“When did…?” Anna murmurs.

“You always have trouble focusing,” Elsa says, turning Anna’s attention back to her. “Except for when you’re trying to kick me out.” The demon holds up her hands, “Rules are rules, I get it, but I thought, ‘Why not give her a little nudge and see if that helps.’” She looks up at the ceiling again, a soft expression on her face. “Seems like a resounding success.”

Anna doesn’t have an argument, so she stays quiet. Giving Elsa the satisfaction of thinking she played a part in divine dealings may be a mistake, one she doesn’t want to make.

“Now that you’re done,” Elsa turned and beckoned over her shoulder. “How about a break?”

“Angels don’t take breaks,” Anna says haughtily, crossing her arms. “Demons might: Disconnected and all that, aimless. But  we have more important things to do.”

Elsa pouts, her lower lip full and pitiful. “Trying to hurt my feelings, angel? Think I’ll try something if you step one foot out of here? You give me too much credit.”

“What would I even do ‘taking a break’? Walk around the ice until the frozen wind takes my wings?” Anna shakes her head. “No thank you. It might not always be warm in here, but it’s way better than out there.”

Elsa regards Anna over her shoulder before turning back. “You don’t like it here, that much is clear. And I know you’re trying to leave.” Anna darts her eyes away. “You hate it down here. Cold and dark, the sun only shining a few months out of the year. You’re lonely--”

“And it’s none of your business!” Anna snaps. This demon was edging dangerously close to a wound that was still fresh, even after all these years, all this time. A memory of warm sunlight dances in Anna’s mind and she wills herself to believe it’s just the wings on her back.

“Don’t lie,” Elsa says gently, “we can both feel it.”

Anna takes a deep breath in through her nose and exhales out her mouth. Steadily, she says, “Get out, demon.”

“Come with me, Anna.”

Her name echoes between them. Anger bubbles in Anna’s chest but dies just as quickly. She’s tired. Wary, but tired of always trying, always watching her best not being enough. But she has to push through, endure.

“I haven’t seen any other angel but you in one hundred years, Anna.” The demon turns her back and begins walking down the hall towards the entrance. “You don’t have to take up my offer, but know that I have no other motive than seeing you achieve your goal. I just want you to be able to enjoy it when that reward finally comes, and not be a burnt out pile of nerves and worry. I’ll be outside.”

Anna watches her go, heels clicking against the ice until they don’t. Silence descends again, absolute.

She should let her go, Anna thinks.

And she continues to think, even as her feet move and fingers trace the walls to check that the energy in the room won’t dissipate when she leaves. Not too much anyway. While the demon’s methods may annoy Anna to no end, she can’t ignore their effectiveness.

The wind howls outside, ripping at the fabric of Anna’s clothing in swift gusts. She slams the heavy door shut and shields her eyes with a hand, looking around for the demon who enticed her out here. Anna’s regret is immediate and grand. She’s stationed in the arctic, or practically anyway. Sunlight a few hours a day when they get it, or all day, never once setting, without the heat to match. Shadows rush in between bursts of snow, obscuring everything more than a few feet away.

“Demon!” Anna shouts, one eye shut as a snowflake flies in, stinging and cold. “Where are you?”

“Right here, angel.” A voice next to her says, appearing at her side almost instantly. “I must say, I knew you’d follow, but not this fast.”

“Tease me any more and you’ll enjoy this beautiful weather alone,” Anna gripes, unconsciously stepping into Elsa’s shadow. If Elsa had any opposition to Anna using her as a living snow shield, she didn’t say so. Even still, what little warmth Anna’s body had stored indoors was quickly being lost, and with the chill biting into her very bones, there was little hope of calling upon her divine power for relief.

In a last ditch effort, Anna’s wings puff up like a bird’s, thick and fluffed, blocking the majority of the wind and snow from hitting her torso. Anna didn’t bother looking at Elsa’s face. She could feel the humor in the very air itself.

“You got me out here de--.... Elsa. What now?”

“I thought perhaps a change of scenery would do you good,” Elsa shouts above the wind, close to Anna’s ear.

Guarded, Anna asks, “Where to?”

Elsa nudges Anna’s shoulder with her own, then walks a few steps out into the weather before facing the church entrance. “I was thinking up there,” Elsa points. Anna frowns, walking out to join her, realizing that Elsa had indicated a spot far above the gables and eaves of the church roof.

“You’re joking.”

“I am not,” Elsa responds flatly. “Have you ever been up there? Perhaps the view won’t be all that much right now, but I promise, it has it’s value, just out of sight.” Anna eyes her skeptically, but she supposed if Elsa did anything odd, she could alway just ask God to smite her. A few extra feet up may actually just make the shot easier.

Satisfied, Anna steps away from Elsa, fanning out her wings in preparation to jump. No more than a story or two, a leap as easy as breathing for someone used to soaring higher than clouds.

A quiet cough stops her short. “I’m happy that you’re eager, angel,” Elsa squints against the snow. It blows around her in circles, almost a bubble, unable to pass too close. A control Anna doesn’t have, or perhaps a tactic she would only resort to without her Light. “But if you want company, you’ll have to stoop low and assist the enemy.”

Behind her back something appears, like watercolor paint bleeding and blooming into shape, spreading out from her clothed shoulders to the ground. Feathers the color of oil, of moonless nights and obsidian shards. They weigh heavy against the demon, dragging beyond her feet, stuck marred and running with clumps of snow.

The chains of course, don’t make them any lighter.

Binding and unbreakable, the unearthly metal presses tightly against every shift the wings make, the occasional clink heard even over the gale. The limbs are lashed close to Elsa’s spine, tight and uncomfortable with no padlock to be seen, no reference to freedom or release, and Anna knows that there never will be.

Once fallen, always Bound.

“Dead weight,” Elsa says with a nonchalance that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. She flexes the muscles in her flightless wings, which rise an inch or two before dropping laboriously. “But their weight is only mine to bear. Carry me up, and I’ll show you what I meant earlier about there being more to this place than meets the eye. Heavenly or otherwise.”

Anna looks between their destination and her companion, then back again. “Alright,” she says at length, “but only this once. And it better be worth it.”

“Excellent!” Elsa drapes an arm suddenly around Anna’s shoulders and grips her tightly before kicking both feet off the ground. On reflex, Anna widens her stance and gets an arm under Elsa’s legs so she doesn’t get pulled down by Elsa’s gravity. She stumbles a bit under the weight of a body in her arms, relief washing through her that she’d managed to catch Elsa before they both fell… until she realizes  exactly  how Elsa desires to be carried, and dumps the demon unceremoniously to the ice cold ground.

“Ow!” Elsa gripes, rubbing her lower back. “What was that for?”

“No way,” Anna cuts her hands decisively through the air. “Absolutely no way am I carrying you like that.”

“Have a problem with bridal style, angel?” Elsa asks with a raised eyebrow, wiping snow from her black tunic. “Honestly, I thought it was just efficient.”

“Oh,” Anna’s mouth curls mischievously. “If it’s efficiency you’re looking for then how about this?” Without waiting for an answer, Anna hitches Elsa bodily over her shoulder, the demon’s legs kicking wildly in her face. As she grinds her feet into the ice, Anna thinks she hears a shout of protest but it is lost to the whistle of wind during take off.

Perhaps she should have taken heed, because Anna only gets about one floor up before Elsa’s heel smacks against the underside of her chin with force, snapping her head up and making her vision go even whiter than the blizzard outside. They crash into a snowdrift that had accumulated on the side of the church, dense, freezing, and muffled. Well, except for the grunting and digging to get back to the surface.

“What’s your problem!?” Anna bursts out, wiping snow out of her hair.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Elsa spits back, breathing heavily as she hauls herself out onto flat ground. Her shoulders slump with effort, and for the first time, Anna can see how much Elsa’s bound wings affect her. Like she can’t get enough air, or stand to her full height. How their presence smothers her, a weighted blanket with hundred pound plates, constricting her spine and dragging her down, down, down. Chained to the earth, shackled from the sky.

“I think break time is over,” Elsa says, adjusting her clothing back to rights, or as right as they could get for now. “I’ll let you get back to your study and meditation, since that seems to be what you’d prefer.”

“No I--, I’m sorry,” Anna stammers. Elsa seems surprised by her confession, and if Anna’s honest, so is she. “I want to see this view you speak so highly of. It must be… special.”

Elsa accepts her words with a nod. A beat passes before she asks, “So, how are we getting up there?”

“You’ll have to climb.” Anna smiles softly at Elsa’s weary expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you.”

The slope of the snow bank makes the first part fairly simple, and before too long, Elsa is scaling the side of the building as quickly, though carefully, as she can. Every handhold is slick with ice, but Anna melts and evaporates them in quick succession so Elsa doesn’t slip. Certainly slower than flying, but it’s a decent compromise.

And… it gives Anna some time to think.

Why does Elsa care that Anna succeeds? In her tasks, her goals. In leaving this place behind for good. Elsa is a demon, she should be trying to pull Anna further, demotion after demotion until there was nothing less but the permanent boot down to hell. A great achievement that would be, felling an angel. Perhaps Elsa is playing the long game, biding her time, but Anna was stuck in this lonely, frozen landscape anyway, shouldn’t that make Elsa’s job easier? To prey on the mortals that came here, less guarded if their protector angel was distracted?

Anna unfreezes and dries another foothold for Elsa, hovering just behind her in case she falls. Elsa flashes her a grateful smile before concentrating once more. Anna remembers that demons lie, are expert deceivers, and will tell you anything you want to get you to slip, to tempt and to taunt.

But… everything? Even the small things, the inconsequential? The silent ‘thank yous’ for doing a favor?

These thoughts swirl around Anna’s head until Elsa clears her throat, breaking through the fog. She sits atop the roof, safely ascended. “We’re here.”

There is a valley, a cubby really, made between three steeply slanted roofs. Were this the type of geographic location to have a rainy season, this would most certainly be the most uncomfortable place to be - slick with water and grime that washed off the tiles. But with densely packed snow and ice creating a buffer, it’s actually rather quaint. Elsa walks forward, the snow lifting up in glittering heaps of flakes. A space is carved before Anna’s eyes, just big enough for the two of them. “I used to come up here all the time,” Elsa says as the hovering snowflakes settle among the rest of the rooftop piles. “When it was first settled and built. I liked to hear people's voices from below, even if it was faint. The energy of their Light wasn’t small by any means, but it was human, and easier to bear. Of course, with the arrival of a certain someone, I wasn’t quite so cozy anymore, unless I wanted to feel like my clothing was burning off.” Elsa tosses a forgiving look behind her. “Don’t worry, I’d say the price of meeting you was well worth losing a little hang out spot.”

She motions for Anna to sit down. As she does, Anna feels the chill of the air seep into her bones again. Exhaustion has crept up on her; using her power to charge the church, then fly, then help Elsa climb, had been more taxing than she’d realized. She settles in the crux of the roofs, surprisingly snug and comfortable. And on any other day, it might have been.

But the below freezing temperatures send shivers down Anna’s spine and raise gooseflesh on her skin. She grits her teeth and closes her eyes, looking for that tether of Light, that candle of warmth within her. But it’s gone, or so low it hides. Even her wings barely glow anymore, their protection offered only in the fluff of celestial feathers. Cold wraps around her, its erratic touch scattering every attempt at concentrating.

Punishment. For taking pity on the enemy. For failing her duties. For falling from grace. That sunlight in Anna’s memory would stay there, forever.

Suddenly Elsa is beside her, blocking the wind with her body and more. Her wings, damaged and curtailed, stretch over their heads to the extent that they could, chains restricting more than the bare minimum of mobility. They take up the spaces that Anna’s wings cannot fill, a black and white barrier against the storm. Free from the brunt of the gale, warmth seeps back into Anna’s limbs and her breath begins to fog in the air.

“Better, angel?” Elsa asks without looking at her. Her expression is inscrutable, and it's all Anna can do to nod and try looking for her Light once more. The candle catches faintly in her chest, further heating the air around them. She lowers it gently as she hears Elsa’s breath hitch next to her, unwilling to harm the demon anymore.

The world outside shrinks away, the space inside quiet and content. Not perfect, but comfortable enough. “I can see why you’d like it up here,” Anna comments. “Like this it’s almost serene.”

“I thought you’d like it, too,” and Elsa’s tone of voice is knowing, back to light teasing. “Did you really think I’d drag you all the way up here for some scheme? As you could see, it would have hardly been worth the effort on my part.”

“Perhaps,” Anna replies, “but you never know with demons.”

"You never know with demons, but that’s a conversation for another day.” Elsa settles again, their sides touching. “Now I really do think break time is over. You should try meditating up here, perhaps it will be easier.”

Anna laughs. “Trying to find a partner for eternity, are we, Elsa?”

Elsa doesn’t respond to the jest, merely reiterating that Anna should try meditating again.

Anna tries...but she doesn’t succeed. Instead those thoughts from before return to her, about Elsa, about what the demon means to her. About what Elsa wants. What she, Anna,… wants.

To leave, right? Go back to favored, back to freedom and the Earth stretching beneath her wings. To the warmth and the sun.

Actually… now that she thinks about it, she’s pretty warm. The clouds part overhead and the sun’s light filters through their feathers, shining on her skin instead of being blocked by ten layers of ocean ice. She’s warm, and as Anna relishes that feeling she sinks further into her meditative posture until there’s nothing but soft, comfortable darkness.

--

Elsa feels Anna drift off under her wing. The angel’s breath ruffles the dead feathers, mimicking a flight long forgotten. Anna’s soft exhales flee into the surrounding winds but Elsa hears them in the cocoon on their own making. As Anna succumbs to sleep her head rests on Elsa’s shoulder.

“Even angels need to rest,” she says quietly, tucking Anna more securely against her. Sleep laps at her too, the climb taking more out of her than she’d bargained for. She’d hoped for… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. A conversation. A common moment. A shared space. Elsa supposes she has that last one, just not how she’d expected.

But she learned long ago that the world didn’t always work on expectations.

Before too much longer, Elsa is asleep as well, her head on top of Anna’s, feathers fluttering in the wind. Two detach and dance in a shared current. One black, one white. They disappear amongst the ice.

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Rising takes Cravs out to skyfish. Egg fish.

Rising Lotus still looked a bit wobbly on her feet as they made their way through the aetheryte plaza. "Ugh, wasn't even a long airship trip..." she took a few deep breaths, trying to collect herself now that they were on solid land... more or less.

Cravendy Hound , in contrast, is in high spirits. She steps out onto the floating island with wonder lighting up her eyes, and she dashes out to an edge to get a better look. "Risin', ye got to work on yer sea legs...or air legs, in this case? Anyway, holy. Shit. What the 'ells keepin' all these rocks flyin' up?"

Rising Lotus: "Some sort of air crystals or somethin' I think? Some sort of aethery type of deal, someone explained it to me when I came here the first time but I don't remember the specifics." she shrugged ."It ain't too far from the spot...which is weird cause you think you could jus' cast out off any side."

Cravendy Hound shrugs. Magic didn't make much sense to her as well. She would follow Rising to whatever spot she was talking about, chatting along the way. "So, ye showed me that weird balloonfish last time, but what else could we drag up?"

Rising Lotus shrugged. "There's lots of different air fish. Some ain't really look like fish though, least not where I casted off here." she started down the way. "But I guess it counts as long as you hook it?"

Cravendy Hound: "I mean, if we're tossin' our 'ooks off a cliff, seems reasonable ye'd catch things other than fish. Like, birds, maybe." She pauses every once and awhile to observe the native flora and fauna around these parts, having never seen anything quite like it.

Rising Lotus approached the edge cautiously, looking out on the vast cloudscape. "Think over here was the place. I remember these weird plants." she plopped down,  setting her tackle box between them. "Also careful when you go for some bait, it has a tendency to... uh float away."

Cravendy Hound: "What?" Cravs goes for Rising's tackle box and opens it, letting a couple of red balloon bugs drifting out. "What?!"

Rising Lotus was able to snag one out of the air as the others wafted away on the breeze. "See? You jus' wanna hook 'em..." she slid the hook into the body part instead of the balloon part, so that it still could float on her line. "Like this. So they can still float. You'll probably still pop a few though on your first try." She then casted her line out, line floating about with the stange bug hook on.

Cravendy Hound does her best to catch some of the bait before it flies away, but the wind blows away most of the escapees. Following Rising's lead, she stabs one a little too roughly through her hook. It's not floating at all anymore. That's not a good sign.

Cravendy Hound throws caution to the wind and decides, screw it. She casts off with the dead bug anyway. The chill really sets in once she begins waiting in earnest. "Eesh, it's colder than I thought up 'ere."

Rising Lotus snickered as Cravs had a deflated bait hanging from her line. "It's a little tricky, the ballon part is way bigger than the non-balloon part." she shrugged as she cast off anyway. "You think it'd be warmer since we're closer to the sun."

Cravendy Hound feels something tug on the other end and she pulls up a...weird? Purple circle? Cravs can't tell if this is a living creature or skytrash. "I think I caught this through pure luck."

Cravendy Hound: "Well, the tops of mountains tend to be cold? Maybe whatevers 'oldin' in all the warm air becomes thinner the 'igher ye go."

Rising Lotus reels in the same thing, unhooking it then tossing it away, watching it drift away. "Wonder what those things are, weird purple balls." she casted off again. " I got some other bait in there too, these giant bugs. But ya know, different from these bugs."

Cravendy Hound gives her Storm Core a confused squeeze and the thing begins to deflate, spitting out questionable liquid as it becomes as flat as a pancake. Cravs feels a tinge bad, decides to toss it off the cliff as if releasing a fish. The purple thing descends and disappears below the cloud layer. It's probably fine, she tells herself!

Cravendy Hound: "Other bait? Giant...bugs?" Cravs mutters apprehensively. "How big we talkin' 'ere."

Rising Lotus: "Well their body is small, but it has super long legs." she motioned to a small cage with Giant Crane Fly fluttering about. "...So...how did Riylli take... ya know.." she reeled in once more after asking, pulling in a small slug like thing with little wings, giving it a strange look. "...it's like some small angel thing."

Cravendy Hound peers over at the bait and lets out a breath of relief. "Oh, that's nothin', I thought ye were talkin' like, /big/ bugs. Like this bug." She spreads her hands a few ilms apart, invisibly outlining something the size of a loaf of bread.

Cravendy Hound: "She took it well enough...at least, don't think we 'ave to worry about 'er gabbin' to Momori anymore. I think it'd be good to keep 'er and Florus separated though, she still wants to tear 'im a new one."

Rising Lotus "Well yeah that was a no brainer...good though. I was worried 'bout her runnin' with Momori... an' her bein' as naive as she is at times...well..." she let out a sigh at the thought before reeling in another catch. It looks like a weird mass of cloth moving about. "Whoah.." she held her line up so she could look at its form better. Whiteloom

Cravendy Hound: "While most Eorzeans don't take kindly to Garleans, I think somethin' personal must've 'appened with Riylli to make 'er distrust 'em that much...and she's sheltered, too. Bein' in the woods for all yer life don't do the mind any good."

Cravendy Hound glances over at Rising's catch and lets out an amused snort. "Hah, did ye accidentally reel in someone's smallclothes?"

(Cravendy Hound) Buoyant Oviform UMM )) (Cravendy Hound) THATS JUST AN EGG?? )) (Rising Lotus) What's the lady's name they're trying to stop again?)) (Rising Lotus) and yes that's an egg)) (Cravendy Hound) Mindred Rot? )) (Rising Lotus) okay thanks I was blanking xD))

Rising Lotus looked again at her catch. "..Well them Ishgarde folk do wear that frilly stuff." She carefully unhooked it and tossed it over the edge only for it to start swimmin' back through the air.

Rising Lotus: "But aye... worried someone's gonna take advantage of that...someone like Momori or Rot."

Cravendy Hound: "Good thing Riylli's got us to protect 'er, then. Or try. She's pretty stubborn."

Cravendy Hound - Something tugs on the line and she reels in an egg of all things. Cravs holds it in her hand, stunned into a prolonged silence.

Cravendy Hound: "...AY. OKAY, NOW I KNOW YER MESSIN' WITH ME." She turns to Rising with the egg brandished like a club. "The purple beachball and cloth thing were fishy enough, but an egg?! What do ye take me for? Are ye, like, attachin' crap to my line or somethin'?!"

Rising Lotus was about to speak on the Riylli matter when Cracs pulled up an egg. "Huh... that is an egg." she cocked her head. "..so there are eggs floatin' 'round up here too? I mean... does it hatch into things?" she gave it a puzzled look, losing her own bait. "How in the hells would I do that? I'm right here with you!" she set herself up and cast out again.

Cravendy Hound: "I dunno, ye tell me! Did ye 'ire a moogle to loiter below us? Or maybe yer usin' magic. That shit can do anythin'," Cravs rambles as she grips the egg in her hand. "Well, the jig is up!"

Cravendy Hound tosses the egg against the ground, smashing it. A tiny, weird fish splats out of it and flops futilely as Cravs goes from confused to seconds away from losing her mind.

(Cravendy Hound) I have no idea but like - if eggs can fly.................. )) (Rising Lotus) These eggs can! If they're even eggs)) (Cravendy Hound) sus eggs ))

Rising Lotus "I don't know any magic! Aside from some of that blue kind I haven't practiced in...whoah!" she was jerked forward from the tug on her line, causing her to stand up and fight with it. "This ones feels big..." her eyes darted down to the edge nervously and inched back a decent amount of ilms. Eventually with a mighty tug a shark swooped up over the side, thrashing about as it landed on the edge before Rising.

Rising Lotus: "...It's a flyin' shark!" her face lit up, though the creature's resistance broke through, biting through her line and the fly-swimming off.

Cravendy Hound peels her eyes off of the questionable fish-egg and hurries to loop her arm around Rising's elbow. "Don't let it drag ye off! It's a long way down!"

Cravendy Hound: "Well, shit! That's a flyin' fish if I ever saw one," Cravs points out. "But like, a /real/ one, not just the glidin' type I see on the water."

Rising Lotus grunted as it flew off. "Well it was a fish.." she watched it fly off into the distance and back into the clouds. " Ain't ever had that happen before. You'll vouch for me that I caught a sky shark right? I'll vouch for your egg." she snickered.

Cravendy Hound narrows her eyes again. "Ye say that, and people'll just think yer loony. Damnit, I wanna hook a shark too." She stabs another balloon bug onto her hook and decides to change spots - maybe standing somewhere else, she'll have more luck?

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, what exactly did ye promise to Momori? Somethin' 'bout takin' 'er to Idyllshire? Gods, I feel bad that yer stickin' yer neck out for me to begin with..."

Rising Lotus made her way down the way and cast out again. "Ugh... all I could offer was some connections out there, which even that I ain't thrilled about. Gotta warn 'em 'bout her." she sighed. "An' don't worry 'bout it...gotta look out for you to."

Cravendy Hound blinks several times at that last part, two parts dazed and one part embarrassed. Mixed in is also that feeling of fear you get when you look down a cliff - which /may/ be from literally looking down a cliff. She's not sure. "Ah. Well. I can look after myself...but I appreciate the 'elp anyway."

Cravendy Hound: "We look out for each other." Cravs pauses, then glances up to give Rising a shy smile. She finds her footing. "..A 'ound never 'unts alone.

Rising Lotus nodded, returning the smile as she idly reeled in her line. "Aye..." she chewed her lower lip, looking like she was fighting with something. "...I was alone for a bit before I joined up with Heartwood. Was...a bit hard...so.. ya know...you an' Riylli..." she trailed off, reeling in her next catch.

Cravendy Hound tilts her head as she listens to Rising, every word slow and careful. Which struck her as odd, but then again, Cravs figured she was feeling just the same way. "Yeah! It's good the three of us stumbled into each other. Ain't good bein' alone all the time."

Rising Lotus fished up an egg of her own, breaking the tender moment by by grabbing it and shoving it in Crav's face "See! I wasn't putting you on! There are jus'..." she looked at the egg in her hand "..these things floatin' about.." she shrugged and tossed it away.

Rising Lotus: "..b-but yeah...Thanks." she smiled weakly, though it looked like something was still bothering her a bit.

Cravendy Hound rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Well I'll be...ye also got one of them flyin' eggs. Either there really are eggs just out there, waitin' and willin' to be fished up, or we're both goin' crazy from bein' up 'ere too long. If they're aren't just a 'allucination, we should shove 'em in a carton at 'ome as a prank. See if someone bakes a cake with it."

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, I'm gonna 'ead back. My nose's gonna be frozen solid if I stay out 'ere any longer." She packs up her rod and bumps Rising on the shoulder with a clenched fist as she begins to walk back. "Thanks for takin' me out. Shout if anythin's givin' ye trouble."

Rising Lotus nodded. "Aye, I think I've had enough of starin' off into...certain death." she stashed her rod away. " Glad we finally had a chance to go out here." she rubbed her elbow a bit at her offer, glancing back over the edge before nodding lightly. "..A-alright." she shivered a bit as the chill was finally starting to get to her as well. "..I wonder if they got a bar in that town back there.."

[webcricket]

Castiel Imagine

Imagine: Your brother loses his cool when he overhears Castiel giving you a lesson on how best to handle an angel’s blade (ft. Dean Winchester putting the “ass” in assumption.)

“You sure you want to do this now? In the middle of the library? I mean it’s not the most practical setting to whip it out-” the anxious pitch of your voice threads the threshold of the bunker’s library door, needles through the map room into the hall, and pricks Dean’s ears to alertness as he shuffles between the kitchen and his bedroom with a half-eaten sandwich shoved in his pie hole for purposes of transport on account of a beer held in each available fist- “we might break something.”

Over-protective brotherly spidey-senses forever tingling in regards to you, ignited by the hesitation laden in your words and his uncertainty of what they refer to, the elder Winchester stops up short to listen closely for who you’re speaking to and about what exactly.

“You doubt your ability.” Castiel’s gravelly observation informs as to the who.

“I just haven’t had a lot of practice,” you reply in an abashedly lowered tone.

“Here-” Cas continues, cadence exuding confidence in whatever he’s offering- “don’t be afraid. I’ve sensed your longing to try this for awhile. It’s not as though you haven’t thought about touching it many times before today. Go on.”

Your awe-struck hum of, “It’s harder that I thought it would be,” sets Dean’s muscles frenetically, and clumsily, into motion. Briefly he forgets the bready stopper stuffed in his mouth and tries to shout through the ire-muffling amalgam of carbs.

“Keep your grip gentle, but firm. Focus on squeezing around the base when the heft of it first hits your hand,” Cas instructs softly.

“S’too big, Cas,” you whine.

“You’re overthinking, relax. Let the shaft glide across the cradle of your palm and gravity will do the rest.”

Fumbling, Dean shifts the necks of each bottle into one hand and rips the ham and cheese filled triple-decker from his clamped teeth.

“Closer?” you wonder.

“Very close,” Cas growls.

“Slippery little devil,” you laugh lightly. “You know, it’s kind of ironic something as simple as this can make a being the size of the Chrysler building come undone.”

Heart rate ascending heavenward, rapid rush of adrenaline wobbling his limbs, Dean trips into the map room.

“There!” Cas rasps in praise. “So good.”

“Like this?” you ask.

“Yes, that’s it!” the angel exclaims with orgasmic glee.

Momentum of stumble moving him forward, Dean and his beer spill up the library’s concrete steps and put him within sight of you. “What the hell is going on in here?!” Mayonnaise and bits of hastily chewed bread froth at the corners of his mouth.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas peers up at his friend from where you’ve just proudly flipped and caught his angel blade like a seasoned pro.

“Hey, jerk.” You aim your chin at him in greeting, stabbing at the empty air in lieu of a having an actual enemy within reach.

Dean stares between you, jaw and glinting green gaze widely agape. He can’t reconcile the innocent context of what his eyes are telling him was happening with the hands-on hedonistic mayhem his mind assumed given what he heard.

“I was showing your sister how to balance my angel blade in close combat,” Cas explains. He gestures to the metallic shine of the weapon in question in your lithe clasp. “She’s a very fast learner.”

Nodding slowly, Dean wipes a sleeve across his face and skeptically repeats the angelic explanation, “You were showing my sister how to handle your blade?”

“That’s what he said,” you tease, knowing full well what your brother imagined was going on given how worked up he is.

“Uh huh.” Dean keeps bobbing his head like a dashboard decoration bouncing on a bumpy back road where the driver took a wrong turn. He points his sandwich at Cas and shakes a few menacing crumbs onto the floor. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

You watch him turn to leave, and shout at his departing spine, “Whatever you say. I’m a grown woman, Dean. I make my own decisions about whose blade I want to handle.” You smile, because frazzled Dean is never not funny, and because for all the sneaking around you and the seraph do do to secret the actual romantic and physical nature of intimacy shared from your brothers this is the thing Dean finds to freak out about.

You look down at the cool metal held in your hands, twisting the triangular point, you catch Cas' curiosity crimped brow reflected in the mirrored edge.

“I don’t understand,” he contemplates aloud, “what did he think was happening?”

With Dean long gone to nurse his wounded ego and the coast clear of Sam, you decide - setting the blade aside on the table, clasping Cas by the coat lapels, pushing him backward to sit in a chair, and notching your body between his knees and a finger behind his belt buckle - that it’s a query best served by a tactile answer.

Castiel tag list:  (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!)    @jeepangel​  @sammiesamness​  @willowing-love​  @blueicevalkyrie​   @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​  @thesugargalaxy​  @bluetina-blog​  @dont-trust-humanity​  @honeybeetrash​  @bucky-thorin-winchester​  @superwholockz​   @tistai​  @wordstothewisereaders​  @gill-ons​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​  @marisayouass​  @stone-met​   @castiel-savvy18​  @samualmortgrim​  @trexrambling​  @magnificent-mantle​  @xdifsx​  @mandilion76​  @rockfairy​  @peaceloveancolor​  @unicorntrooper​  @anisolatedship​  @itsilvermorny​  @aditimukul​  @kudosia​  @goofynerd-67babylove​  @uninspirationalsonglyrics​  @gray-avidan​  @mishascupcake​   @mishapanicmeow​   @praisecastielamen​  @roseyhxnt​  @jessikared97​  @let-the-imaginationflow​  @warriorqueen1991​   @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​   @hisnameisboobear  @kristendanwayne  @fuschiarulerinthebluebox​  @coolpencilpie​  @jenabean75​ @luciathewinchestergirl​  @morganas-pendragons​  @heyitscam99​  @fangirl-and-stuff​  @selahbela  @realgreglestrade  @splendidcas​  @pointlesscasey​  @i-larb-spooderman​  @thewhiterabbit42  @thelostverse​  @castieliswatchingoverme​  @beccollie18  @dragonett8  @dixie-chick​  @jtownraindancer​   @carowinsthings​  @passionghost​  @ladyofletters67​ @futureparent​  @gabbie7-11​  @myfandomlife-blog​  @dreamerkim​  @shamelesslydean​  @earthtokace​  @neaeri  @justanormalangel​  @lone-loba​  @supernaturalymarvel​  @lilrubixx​  @wings-and-halo​  @lilulo-12​  @x-cassiopeia​ @thehoneybeecastielfollows​  @musiclovinchic93​  @81mysteriouslyme​  @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​  @jaylarkson​  @missjenniferb​  @jessiekay2010​

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sammy’s and Normans first kiss?

I don't usually poke at these sorts of themes, but fair warning: This is slightly NSFW due to a few "wandering hands" on Sammy's part.

Summary: If there's anything that Norman regrets, it's his and Sammy's disaster of a first kiss...

---

     Susie's and Sammy's messy breakup over the replacement of Alice Angel's voice actress role had taken an even bigger toll on the studio than anyone could have ever imagined. Morale had already been low with the steady increase of workload, and the stress of overclocking to chug through the narrowing time frames between deadlines. So having both Sammy Lawrence and Susie Campbell, two of the most outspoken and loud folk in the studio, in such low spirits really had an impact on the other employees.

Sammy took it out on people, his fragility making his temperament unstable to the point lashing out felt like an easier way to cope than to deal with his emotional turmoils head on.

Susie resorted to pettier methods. Decreasing morale with rumors and cruel gossip, and overall making any voice over roles she got (the very same low grade background characters she'd begun with) a nuisance to get done if just to make Sammy's life more difficult. This in turn, fed the perpetual cycle of anger and frustration that permeated the recording booth.

Susie was gaslighting Sammy, and Sammy was verbally assaulting people in retaliation. All of this generated by Joey Drew "accidentally" sending everyone but the intended employee a memo detailing sensitive information regarding their work.

Truly, Norman was at his wits end from pure exasperation over Drew's tactics to keep the studio under his iron grasp. He knew the sort of dangerous game that devil of a man was playing, and he hated how easily everyone fell into place.

Above all, he hated what Joey was slowly shaping both Sammy and Susie into.

     Back in Louisiana Norman had a particular childhood bully who was the ringleader of the bigger meaner kids in town. He was a scrawny meek looking boy with a devious spark in his eye. A thinker instead of a go-getter.

That boy had made Norman's life a living hell, up until his growth spurt came in (he'd been a late bloomer so that had been a good 15 years under that little hellion's tyrannical grasp). Once Norman became bigger than his bullies, that clever bastard had tried buttering up to him. Get him nice and friendly so he'd fall in line with the rest of the thugs.

Once Norman 'kindly refused', he'd instead tried to make him look bad to the rest of the neighborhood. Not too hard, considering he'd always been a bit of a sneak, but honestly he'd never much minded what others thought.

Norman was the weird kid with the crazy eye, and the lightest feet in town. He could sneak up on the feral cats that lived in the overgrown playground without getting heard, and he was the kid that knew sign language because one day his hearing was going to go because he was born with something inherently wrong with his ears. He was also the kid that woke up at 5AM sharp to run training drills with his old man and his siblings.

Nothing the little jerk could do or say had ever made much of an impact on his reputation. Then one day of course his little sister came in missing a braid and his little brother had a split lip. That day Norman beat the shit out of that hellspawn and got in trouble for standing up to his bully.

That's what Drew was doing. Pulling all sorts of cheap manipulative tactics that were slowly shaping the people he employed into being predisposed to doing whatever he felt like.

Be it light threats hidden in passive aggressive comments, invitations to lunches or dinners where he'd test his boundaries of control over certain situations like who paid the bill or what sort of seed of doubt he could implant in someone's brain, or even feed the fires of someone's ire by meddling with their relationships.

By doing this to Sammy, especially, Joey was destroying his reputation as a respectable musician. The blond music director may be unreasonably unsociable, but that did not affect the quality of his work in the least. If anything Sammy seemed to work better under a more private setting.

Now that he was the focus of scrutiny and that people were constantly intruding upon his given workspace however, things were blurring. Professional and personal life had mixed and Joey was purposefully poking a sleeping bear to maintain control over the only composer he knew he could effortlessly keep under his control.

If Sammy so much as tried to quit, the damage of his current behaviors would ensure he'd never be employed ever again, and then where would he go from there when he had bills and rent to pay, and another mouth to feed?

Susie too was at risk.

She'd taken the hit so badly that she was actively fighting her employer and superior by behaving in an almost childish way in protest over being personally wronged. By demeaning her own work she was risking one of Joey's infamous blacklistings from the working industry. Who'd hire a difficult broad that thought she ran the show?

No one, that's who. Not in this overly masculine society.

     20 years ahead of both in experience, Norman was well and truly concerned. Both of them weren't bad people. They were fine adults with their whole life ahead of them if they played their cards right and sorted their emotional bullshit before snakes like that devil Drew got them cornered like mice in a maze. They were also both very competent and passionate about their work (which honestly was very attractive to him).

Obviously they weren't getting it on their own, so he had to stir them towards the right path somehow. A little nudge.

If only things weren't so hard in this damn studio… Getting to Susie was complicated considering she was avoiding people. And Sammy? Well, Sammy had some concerning vices.

  "He's been drinking." Jack had taken Sammy under his wing a while back. Norman knew how much the lyricist cared for his coworker and friend, so the pain in his voice was palpable. "He's hardly himself anymore. He's resorting to racist comments and shouting matches because he can't come up with any real reason to put people down, and I caught Wally straight up crying in the bathroom the other day because Sammy made fun of his spots to the point he couldn't take it anymore."

  "Miss Campbell ain't doin' no better. Word is she pitched a mighty tantrum ta other day in ta booth." At least that's what he'd witnessed while doing his usual rounds. "Sammy threatened ta write her up so Joey would fire her."

  "Don't remind me… I was conducting the band while Sammy helped Miss Pendle, and then Susie just barged in!" Jack ran a hand over his tired face, looking a decade older than he actually was. Just from how frustrated the situation left him. "I'm losing my best friend Norman… If this keeps up I won't be able to stand Sammy. Wally feels just about the same with Susie. They're hurting everyone around them and they don't care because they're so caught up on attacking each another…"

  "They is more stubborn than a mule in ta field. Ain't nothin' I could say that could fix what Drew's meddlin' has done, but I could sure try ta call them ta reason." He muses. "I've had ta knock some sense into Sammy before. Could use the reminder..."

  "You're not gonna hit him are you? Norman you could get fired…" Jack looked concerned at this.

  "N'aw. Drew don't care, I roughed him up before and our 'kindly boss' didn't give a rat's ass 'bout his wellbeing." Norman stated. "Henry sure did give me an earful tho…"

  "Who…?"

  "An old friend… Anyhow, can't hurt ta go see Sammy 'bout his deplorable behavior. You know where he gone off to?" Norman dismissed the question with a smile.

Jack shrugged at him in reply.

  "You could try his office. Unless you know where he holes himself up, then he's probably there." The shorter of the two men fixed his bowtie and grabbed his hat from the hanger at the door. "Please go easy on him… It's not his fault."

  "Don't excuse him being a right pain to everyone else."

  "No, but you wouldn't blame a wounded dog to bite when cornered would you?"

  "That's what a muzzle is for."

Not that a muzzle would work on Sammy's sort of breed. He was not one to be silenced so easily in his pain.

Subdued… Maybe, if he had a couple of glasses of that yummy bravery juice and an ear to badger. He wasn't a wordsy man in the sense that he could elaborate what he felt. He was more the word vomit type that said what he felt in bursts. Not very articulate but definitely trying to show what was going on in that confused head of his.

Silencing Sammy was not worth the effort. It'd only make the situation worse. At best, Norman hoped to get him talking after knocking him about just a little.

It never occurred to him that he'd end up doing something else entirely.

     Jack hadn't been kidding. The kid had indeed been drinking, and god the smell of whiskey in his office was overpowering. It came off thicker than Sammy's cheap cologne, and it definitely reminded him of his Pepaw's bootlegging days. The sharp smell of alcohol and a man's bitter tears beneath the dense musk of despair.

Norman crinkled his nose in displeasure as he watched the wiry frame of the blond music director draped over his desk like some twisted puppet that had its strings cut off abruptly. A soft noise made him roll his good eye, wondering when Sammy had fallen so far from grace to the point he was openly snoring in his office like he didn't care about his reputation.

He walked closer, half ready to slap him awake when he realized the noises weren't snores. More like keening whimpers. Soft and throaty, just barely contained.

Then he really scrutinized what the kid was doing. Left arm cushioning his head, while the other was… Oh.

  "Fuckin' Christ Sammy…"

The other's flushed face turned to look at him with a jump, his hand still stuck in his pants, and his eyes just barely focusing.

The wretched smell of alcohol and sweat were already an indicative of his state of inebriation. The lack of shame in his actions, another indication.

But then it was the way he was staring up at him that really gave Norman a scope of just how shitfaced Sammy was.

  ".........S'dat you Norms…?" Speech slurred and bleary eyed. Drunk as an Irishman on Saint Patty's, or a German man on Oktoberfest. This was not a dignified way to find the ornery composer. If anything Norman felt wrong intruding on… Whatever this was. A pity wank?

  "I… should come back later." He was not dealing with this.

  "No!" Sammy reached out for him. "S'day. S'ged'ing lon'ly…"

The taller of the two froze and bit his lip in discomfort. He was not staying to watch Sammy jack off, there was no way in hell. He'd seen Piedmont enough times to warrant a restraining order if the man ever found out what he'd been up to while hiding in the walls. He wasn't going to perv on someone 20 years younger than himself. That was just wrong... As hypocritical as that may sound.

  "I really should let yous finish that…" he tried to back off, but the other clearly wasn't getting it. Counting bottles, Norman could guess why exactly that was. Just how much had Sammy drank?

  "Pl'ase. S'day… D'n't wonna… D'n't feel good all al'ne…" Sammy sniffled loudly. Still reaching out for him with his unoccupied hand. The other was still very much preoccupied down south, from what he could tell in the dark.

  "Sammy Lawrence I am not watchin' you pleasurin' yourself like some deviant! That ain't right!" Hypocrite, the little voice in the back of his mind hissed. You would.

  "Why no'd…? You cute…" Had he… had Sammy just called him cute? A man twice his age and well outside the whole petit brunettes sort he liked? "Big an' han'some… You cou'd brea' me… I'd let's you…"

This was… this was not what he imagined when he'd come to confront Sammy. That hungry, lustful look under the drunken stupor. The way he wasn't even trying to hide his pleasure as he unapologetically stroked himself while speaking to Norman.

An open invitation. It evoked something the older of the two men had been trying to bury for a while now. Desire. A desire that was certainly making his own trousers feel a tad constrictive.

But he couldn't. Not like this. Sammy wasn't in the right state of mind for this.

As if reading his mind, the blond stumbled forward. The projectionist backed up once more to avoid his grasp, but found his back colliding with the office door. Closing it and cornering himself in the process.

Sammy breached his personal space and put a hand to his chest. Norman tensed under his touch, watching transfixed as the composer felt up his pecks in clear adoration. Adoration. Sammy Lawrence was showing something other than annoyance towards him and it felt like he was watching the man being enlightened in some way.

  "So strong…" He felt himself swallowing around a thick lump in his throat as Sammy's purrs got to his groin rather quickly. "So han'some…"

Norman's good eye went back to the fiddling hand, just barely able to see what was happening beneath fabric. Then he felt Sammy's exploring touch lower until it rest between his legs.

  "So big…" The blond whispered seductively before he pressed their lips together in a bid to get what he wanted. Get what both wanted. The taste was both vile and tempting. So hard to push away... But Norman knew it was inherently wrong to exploit.

  "Ok that's enough a' this charade!" He grabbed hold of Sammy's shoulders and pushed him off, ignoring the painful ache between his legs that begged for the music director's hand to return. "Yous don't just go feelin' up a fella's package you damn twit! If I was one o' them homophobes I woulda beat yous black an' blue for this! Ya gotta be smart Sammy, or yous is gonna end up dead one o' these days!"

The blond stared up at him in confusion and mild shock, clearly unhappy about the rejection. He pulled his hand out of his trousers and just stared at him with that semi unfocused gaze that was slowly gaining a bit of clarity as time progressed.

  "... Did… I do bad…?" His confusion soon turned into frustrated anger "Why m'I never good 'nough?!"

  "Sammy what are ya hollerin' 'bout?"

  "M'I ugly? W'y s'everyone got'a leave?!" Sammy stalked back over and pushed Norman against the door, clearly ready to blow up out of anger. "M'I not good 'nough for you?!"

  "Sammy…"

  "J'ust wonna feel! Feel good!" The music director looked him in the eye, practically begging. "Wonna feel good! Pl'ease! Ju'sh wonna feel loved!"

  "Wouldn't be right… you're drunker than a skunk… ain't right kid. Please see reason…" He pleaded, honestly pleaded with the distraught man. 

To his credit, it sort of worked. Sammy cried out in anger and shoved him a few more times against the door for good measure, before collapsing into a crying heap. All Norman could really do was kneel down and try to comfort him.

  "J'us wonna m-matter…"

  "Damn it Sammy… You do matter." He held him closely, feeling bitter about the circumstances behind the gesture. "Yous don't gotta offer yourself up like this ta feel like you do…"

Rather than reply, Sammy sobbed and clung to him for dear life. Letting all the pent-up heartbreak out.

The games Drew played… they had an impact that Norman truly despised. Ones that lead people into the brink of desperation. Sammy was already a casualty of it, Susie not far behind.

That night Norman took it upon himself to take Sammy home, not trusting the kid to be able to go on his own. He practically carried him all the way, making sure to go through less frequented streets to conserve some of the dignity the music director had left.

Knocking on the door and having to explain to Sammy's sister that he was out of it was... Distressing. That girl may be a ray of sunshine, but the obvious disapproval behind Abigail's eyes was colder than ice.

They'd been at odds recently, the two siblings, because of just how badly things were spiraling.

Abigail wanted Sammy to leave the studio, find something else to do that didn't take such a toll on his mental health. Sammy refused, out of pride and fear for what Drew might do to sabotage him.

Norman found that this was another thing he couldn't exactly fix. Wherever that devil of a man looked, a strange taint followed. Even something as pure as a sibling bond, or a kiss.

And god, did Norman regret that damn kiss.

What a fucking mess.

[impala-dreamer]

Let Me See

SPN FanFic

~It's the End of the World and Y/N needs a little distraction. Thankfully, Cas's cabin is always open for business.~

Endverse!! Cas x Reader, mentions of Dean.

2,725 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Drug Use. Smut. Angst. Feelings. WING!KINK.

A/N: This is for my Wing!Kink square for @spnkinkbingo, and a commission for @crashdevlin. Hope you all enjoy ;)

2019 Kink Bingo Masterlist ~ Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

"Get out."

Y/N's voice rang out over the din of meditative humming and four slightly grimy women turned their gaze to the door, shocked to be so commanded.

"Now!"

The women gave a collective sigh of disappointment and Y/N stepped aside to let them out of the cabin. She wasn’t in charge persay, but when she shouted, people tended to listen. It was easier than dealing with her persistence or Dean’s ire once Y/N ratted them out.

Cas didn't move from his spot on the floor, legs still crossed, fingers in circles on his knees. He did peek one eye open and a big smile pushed at his lips.

"That wasn't very nice," he teased, closing his eye again once Y/N gave him a grin.

"Yeah, well, I'm not very nice, Cas."

“Well that’s not true at all,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders to stretch his arms out in front of him. “I seem to remember you being very nice...very…” He paused to search the ceiling for the word her was reaching for. “...lascivious.”

Y/N laughed and then froze, her eyes narrowing as the dictionary in her head went to work. She crossed her arms and popped a hip in annoyance. “Cas, did you just call me a slut?”

He smirked as he stood and gave her an innocent wink. “Oh, come on, there was a time you crawled from one Winchester’s bed to the other.”

Y/N beamed with attitude but shared his laugh. “Different times,” she sighed right after, recalling the boys of her past, a hint of sadness echoed in the breath.

Cas nodded solemnly and gave her a moment to reminisce. “So... what brings you to my humble abode besides breaking up my evening plans?”

Y/N dropped her arms and gave him a pathetic look. “I…”

It was then that Cas noticed the splattered blood on the back of her hand, the newer rips in her jeans, the fresh mud on her boots. The look in her eyes told him more than these details and he opened his arms to her. “Having a rough apocalypse today?”

She stumbled forward, all but dragging her feet across the creaky floor. “I wanna smoke and forget,” she said as her cheek crushed against his linen covered chest. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Cas wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I think we can do that.”

The room filled quickly with gray and blue smoke, the only ventilation being a few cracks in the wooden ceiling and the gap at the bottom of the door. It didn't matter that she almost couldn't breathe anymore; this was exactly what she needed.

The joint crackled as she took another pull, drawing in the drugs with a deep breath.

"Slow down," Cas teased, reaching for the fag.

"Hey!" She swatted his hand away. "You've had enough."

Cas jabbed his fingers into her side until a laugh rang loud and she relented. “I never have enough,” he said, stealing the joint and pinching it between two fingers. “Never enough drugs, never enough sex.” He sighed and exhaled a line of smoke that pushed another ring away. “Never enough time.”

Y/N’s laugh from his tickling had died in the wake of his sad remarks. He was right, the world was over and there wasn’t enough of anything left. Not enough happiness, love, or if you asked Chuck, toilet paper. They were nearing the ultimate end, one shitty day at a time.

As the final breath of smoke left his lips, Y/N leaned in, turning his face to hers with two fingers. His eyes seemed darker than she remembered, almost cobalt now, and the fiery rage was gone, replaced with a hazy twinkle of something that once was.

“I miss you, Cas,” she said softly, staring, breathing the perfumed air.

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges, scruffy cheeks lifting for a moment. “I’m right here.”

She leaned close, diving in without waiting to see what he’d do. There was a time when she wouldn’t have dared, a long time ago when the world was only just starting to crumble; when Castiel was a warrior and Y/N was just a young girl tangled up in The Life. None of that mattered now. There would be no awkward morning, no walk of shame, the world was over and so were all the dumb little worries that once held her back. Now there was but that tingling pull of desire and Cas’s impossibly pink lips pushing against hers.

Cas moved closer, scooting over on the hard floor until he was practically in her lap. He sighed into her mouth and pushed his tongue inside, lazily poking around while she kissed him back, lashes brushing against his cheek as her eyes closed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, hands dipping down into the smooth space between his shoulder blades.

Cas shivered and moaned into her, blue eyes rolling closed. “Uhh…” His jaw trembled and Y/N drew back, afraid he was losing interest or hurting.

“You OK?”

He nodded quickly and reached for her mouth, lips puckered and wet. “Fine.”

She tipped her head curiously as he lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. “What did I do?”

He blushed beneath four day old beard. “It’s...nothing.” His smile was swallowed down as she shrugged and kissed him hard, sucking on his big bottom lip when he paused for a breath.

“You taste delicious,” she hummed, kissing her way across his firm jaw to nibble on his ear.

“I think you mean divine,” he teased, dropping a hand to paw at her breast.

Y/N sucked in a heavy breath as he pinched her nipple. “Keep forgetting,” she moaned, the ache between her legs growing with each pulse of his fingers, “you’re an angel.”

“Used to be.” He grinned and twisted her face with his free hand, turning her head to expose her neck. He kissed the thick muscle along the side of her throat, stopping here to take a bite, there to suck a mark. She writhed against him, hands webbed in his black hair, nails scratching against his scalp and falling downwards, dipping inside his shirt and once again hitting that spot between his shoulders.

“Fuck…”

Cas groaned almost painfully and Y/N pulled back.

“You did it again,” she said, eyes narrowing as they met his.

“It’s... fine.” His eyes rolled and his back tensed awkwardly.

Y/N frowned. “What’s going on?” Trying to soothe him, she ran her fingers across his back and Cas grit his teeth as a heavy moan rumbled through him.

He tried to speak between rushed breaths. “You're...that's... my wings.”

“Oh my god!” She pulled her hand away and bit her lip, eyes wide in apology. “I’m so sorry. Does… it hurt?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, tension leaving his body as the tremor passed, shoulders slumping, grin returning. “No, Y/N, it feels amazing. I’m just not used to it.” He let out a sigh and smiled. “Haven’t felt that in forever.”

Y/N laughed and lay a hand on his chest. “Cas, you fuck all the time. Like, anyone that looks at you.”

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her as he pushed her down onto her back. “No, not...not like this,” he breathed, lips hunting for hers as his body covered her.

Y/N kissed him deeply, in awe of the energy suddenly in his words and touch. He pushed a knee between her legs and she sucked on his tongue, loving the closeness, the high, the need pulsing through her.

Cas whispered her name. “Y/N...please, do it again.”

She pushed between his shoulders gently, feeling his body tense against her. When she pushed a little harder, Cas let out an animalistic yawp into her mouth.

Y/N pulled back, dragging a single fingertip along the invisible wing base, watching as his face melted into pure bliss.

"Cas, you just growled."

He swallowed hard and licked his lips, head rolling on his neck. "Feels so fucking good."

Y/N kept touching, massaging his back with curious fingers, feeling him start to shake between her legs. He rocked forward, hard dick pushing against her jeans, rubbing in time with her caresses.

"I wanna see them," she whispered before he claimed her lips again. "Let me see…"

His tongue slid, wet and hot into her mouth, his lips pulling, drinking her in. He rolled his hips again and Y/N tensed as he nudged her pussy through the layers, her nails threatening to pierce his skin.

"Please, Cas, let me see."

Another pass of your hand, another deep grunt from the back of his throat.

"I can't, Y/N. You can't see them…"

She wound her fingers through his hair and held him close, breathing in the weed and patchouli, the musky heat of him. "Then touch me, Cas. I want to feel them. Want to feel you." She sat up, pushing him back gently, and lifted her shirt, tossing it away to settle across the floor.

The angel looked her over with glassy blue eyes and dragged his thumb down the line of her middle, admiring her beauty.

"Close your eyes, Y/N."

He kissed them closed, a gentle whisper of lips on each eyelid as he laid her back down. Y/N sighed and bit her lip as he sat up, pulling the linen shirt from his back and fumbling with her jeans. Y/N laughed sweetly, her head floating with the drugs as she lifted her hips for him. The cabin air was cool and her skin dimpled.

Her eyes fluttered and Cas clicked his teeth. "I said close your eyes."

"Sorry," she laughed, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Good. Now keep them shut."

Y/N held her breath, anticipation making her heart race. Cas dropped his shoulders and spread his wings; invisible on this plane but for a shadow of black, broken and missing feathers here and there. He sat up on his knees between Y/N's spread legs and let his wings brush over her.

She gasped in amazement as the soft tips of a hundred feathers caressed her body. They passed over her face like a gentle autumn breeze, covered her arms and neck, flowed downwards like a blanket; touching everywhere but nowhere at once.

"Oh...fuck, Cas…" She arched her back as the feathers concentrated on her tits, the soft edges bristling back and forth over her nipples making them tingle and stand tall.

"I've never touched anyone like this," he confessed, staring at each marvelously sensual face he pulled from her, drowning in every moan.

"Well...don't...stop," she panted, near to tears as the downy touch moved lower, tickling the lips of her already slick cunt. "Please…"

He dropped down then, arms by her head, hips pushing into hers. "Never…"

He kissed her hard, breathing into her mouth even as she gasped for air. Feathers and lips, skin upon skin, the drugs in the air- she was wasted and flying on Cas.

Y/N clawed at his arms, firm muscles hard as he hovered over her. With her tongue in his mouth, she reached down, hooking her finger into a belt loop and tugging hard. Cas grunted as she rolled her hips, grinding her cunt against his jeans.

"Fuck." His voice dropped deep, eyes became slits, thick arms strained to hold him up.

"Yes," she cooed, wrapping a hand around the nape of his neck and reaching up. "Fuck me, Cas, please." Y/N licked at his lips and he exhaled hard, wings still in motion, mind in a fog of lust and drugs.

Silken touches held her attention as Cas shed his pants, kicking away the worn denim and gently stroking his cock. He sat up on his knees and watched her squirm, wishing he had just a flicker of Grace to touch her with, a mere thimbleful of magic to make her cum so hard she'd lose her mind.

As the tips of his wing drifted over her lips, Y/N’s eyes rolled and she moaned almost painfully, pathetic in her begging. “Cas...please…”

He kissed her silent when he lay back down, pressing her into the hard floor without a thought other than making her moan again. It was strange- a hundred women came and went through this cabin in a month, but none of them had ever touched him the way Y/N had, none had ever asked about his wings, begged to feel them. She was something special.

When he slipped inside, they moaned in tandem, voices mingling together in the quiet of the woods. Y/N wrapped her thighs around his waist and dared to peek as his thrusts picked up speed.

The shadow of his wings encased them both, shielding them from the world, making a sacred space just for the two of them. She shivered at the sight and whined with pleasure as Cas rode her into the hard floor. He glistened with droplets of sweat, black hair matted to his forehead, firm hills and valleys of muscles moving in a sultry dance as he slid in and out of her slick cunt.

Y/N gasped when he dropped a hand to her pussy, thumb reaching to rub against her clit.

“Want you to cum with me,” he whispered, out of breath and flying high.

She nodded quickly, tightening her legs around him, reaching up to massage his thick chest, touching everywhere that she could as he rubbed and caressed, wings still tickling her sides and face. Cas was inside and out, in every breath she took.

“That’s it, right there!”

Her eyes popped open wide as they came and Y/N saw what Heaven must look like.

Cas’s entire body seemed to glow, every muscle straining as he pumped into her. Y/N lifted a hand to shield her eyes and realized that it wasn’t Cas that was glowing, it was his wings.

Giant, pale gray wings flickered in her eyesight, glowing with a brightness that she could barely stand to be next to. The cabin filled with the celestial illumination and the very timbers above and beneath them began to gently vibrate; the angel’s ecstasy shook the forest.

The light dimmed as he came down, breathing roughly and slumping down over her body. Cas buried his face in her neck and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, keeping him close.

“I...I saw them, Cas…” she whispered, still in awe and shaking.

He exhaled deeply and rolled, lying on his side next to her. “That was incredible,” he panted, eyes hidden by heavy lids.

There wasn’t much to say, no ‘I Love You’s were passed between them. It was over but neither wanted to move.

Y/N grabbed his hand suddenly and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles before laying his palm over her heart. He flexed his fingers and settled, enjoying the heat still pulsing off of her soft skin.

Cas watched her eyes flicker back and forth over the ceiling, wishing like Hell that he could read her mind.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked finally, lamenting his loss of powers once more.

Y/N patted his hand and sighed. “We lost four men today,” she said quietly. “Croats just ambushed us.” She plucked her teeth with her tongue as the memory played on the ceiling, emotion welling in her eyes. “Dean just...kept going, like it didn’t even matter. Those guys were our friends, ya know? He just doesn’t care anymore.” She turned to look at him, glassy eyes searching for a word of wisdom.  

Cas frowned. “It’ll all be over soon,” he said calmly.

“Well that’s morbid as fuck.”

Cas pulled his hand from hers and lifted it to her cheek, holding her sweetly. “It is,” he agreed. “But it’s also true. This can’t go on forever. The End is here.”

Y/N sighed and a single tear rolled down onto the floor, disappearing into nothing. “If we’re gonna start talking like this, I’m gonna need another toke.”

Cas smiled and leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently. “You read my mind.”

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[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

I do not know where I am. It feels cold. Strange as I never have felt cold before. Demons do not adhere to such travesties. They are always warm. Hell’s fire burns within them even when they leave. It has been an ongoing pyre in my veins. Even as I come to live with you - Elijah. Father. 

Angels themselves are not born of men. Though I was created as one half to the same whole. God split me from my twin brother Greed. We were Caleb and Connor then. Beauteous, wondrous and light. We were infinite with our brother Cassius. Oh how beautiful we were in golden halos and rich wings expanding in all their glory. 

You know me not as this. You know me as Lust. The sin of passion and divine sexual energies. A poetic way to say I was a filthy being cast down to the pits of Hell. However, I chose that path. Once God turned his ire upon Connor I could not leave him. In that choice I defied God and all His creation to remain with my family. Cassius had no choice but to come along. 

In ways I feel I made up his mind. Losing not only one but both of his chosen brothers. I forced him to become Pride. Then I forced him in my selfish ways to become Wrath. Vicious. Cruel. Lost. 

You only hear me now in your dreams, Elijah. My chosen father. You only hear my voice whispering from a void I am now lost to forever. Perhaps. I do not know. I only know my demonic soul devoured by an abomination that should not have risen. Please, Father. Do not die. Please. Tell my brothers I miss them. Tell my mother I hope she is not in pain. I know her well. I know her all. 

Tell my love to not cry. That I will always be with him. I will always be with you all. Father, I may not have said it but I only wanted you to love me as much as you loved Greed. 

Lust’s voice fades away into nothingness. All but a dream within a dream and a whisper from beyond. Demons do not face death as humans do. It is but one powerful stretch from the abyss and linked through the evil power that still courses through Elijah’s being. Then it is gone. 

@creatorofclay​