forgive me

It was so comforting to have Patrick in front of him. He didn’t realise how unsettled he felt constant, not just gloomy. He wished they could have just stayed in that sweet and affectionate moment, but Zacharias got a terrible sense of foreboding as the man began to explain. When Pat had left him that night, he had been unable to think of anything else.

As he spoke, his expression slowly fell until his heart dropped into his stomach and he went pale. “He…. you died,” he repeated slowly as he tried to process it. His mind had processed the information, but not his emotional in regards to these facts. First, he went through the worried and scared emotions at the fact that Patrick died, reaching up and cupping his cheeks with both of his hands. “At least you got to see a little bit of heaven,” he replied softly, smiling for just a moment. Pat had come back and was alright, as far as he could tell. 

Before, he never would have gotten angry, but his own brush with death had changed him. Maybe he had absorbed some of the other negatives emotions people had that night, because now he was angry. “Not only did he try to make you into a werewolf, he killed you in the process.” His tone ended in an ever so slight growl, eyes darkening with his anger. “Not only is that against the rules made to protect the slaves, I don’t think anyone said a thing. I’m sure Lovell would have tried to get a reaction out of me if he’d known.” Zac had started this job to help the slaves, and now he was being forced to accept what little he could actually do, more than he had already. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Patrick would have preferred to stay in the moments where Zac was happy to see him and smiling. Instead, he knew the truth was going to ruin that glimmer of happiness. Patrick’s expression sobered as he tried his best to explain it without going into the details of what happened, wanting to spare the nephilim of the gory way he died. “I did, yes,” he answered, trying not to linger too much on what had happened. 

He could see the flicker of emotions on the nephilim’s face and quickly rested his hand on his hip, wanting to soothe his worries. Patrick was there now, even if he had died, he had seen a flicker of heaven and been given a purpose. Not being fearful of everything was a far better way to live than how he had been. When Zac cupped his cheeks, he lifted a hand to cup his hands. “I did, that was beyond anything I could have expected.” There was the downside that he had been tainted by Raphael and now he might never return to heaven. 

There was a sudden change in Zacharias’s expression and it surprised Patrick. The nephilim had always been soft and caring and sweet, he had never seen him angry or aggressive in any way. “It probably doesn’t help, but I believe his intention was to turn me into a hellhound so I wouldn’t be able to step foot in a church again.” As bitter as Patrick was about that little fact, it had backfired on the master. Not only was he not a werewolf, but even if he was a demon, he could still touch holy artefacts without being harmed. As his master was a council member and part of making the rules, he doubted he would get any backlash for what he had done. “He probably didn’t want to be caught out for screwing up.”

Swimming was literally the greatest thing in the world and Taras would challenge anyone to a thumb war who said differently. In the water, he could have his tail back despite the collar and that was the most important thing. Even if it was only for a little while, feeling his natural body again was a comfort. It told him he wasn’t permanently changed. As he neared the pool, he saw another man standing close to it and blinked. “Umm…no,” he answered, confused, “what’d you do to the water? Can I still swim in it? Did you make it hotter? That would be a amazing!”

-

He was a little relieved when the slave answered no to his question. It probably wasn’t fair to do this to any of the slaves but he wasn’t aiming to hurt the innocent, just the sinners. “I blessed it,” he answered with a shrug. There was no reason to lie. Part of Patrick was just wondering if he still would be able to bless water to make it holy considering his death but it seemed to work. “You can still swim in it, it’s just water to you. Promise,” he said. He thought the conversation would be over there but he still lingered. Any reason to stay far from his master was welcomed at the moment. “I haven’t tried to make anything warmer but I think that’s out or my magic realms. And there’s this,” Patrick trailed off, pointing to the collar around his neck.

Patrick hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should warn the other. “You’re not part demon are you?”

Days went by and, after what happened on Halloween, he had expected to see more of Patrick. Instead, he didn’t see him at all. What started as excited nervous energy turned into disappointment and gloom, adding on to what he already had. Zacharias dragged himself around the infirmary, doing what little work he had to. Hearing the knocks on the door, he sighed, knowing he’d have to deal with someone else now even though he just wanted to curl up in his bed. 

Seeing Pat made his heart thump hard in his chest. There was something different about him, and not just the way he talked. The man seemed confident now, absent of the hesitation and fear he had carried around when they first met. Now, when he looked as him, it felt as if Patrick could see into his thoughts, could read him like a book. Perhaps that was fair, considering the nephilim knew what the other was feeling at any given moment. 

Zac couldn’t interrupt his words, listening intently and hanging onto every one. When Pat came closer, his heart thumped in his chest once more. He could only stare at him for a beat before closing the space between them to kiss him. “It hasn’t changed one bit, even though you have.” It was his turn to reach up and cup the other’s face gently. “What happened?”

Patrick wasn’t a weak human anymore. His death had turned him into something stronger, sturdier with magical means. While he didn’t understand what his purpose was now, or what the changes meant, he knew he was more durable. Even with the collar around his neck to keep his magic quelled, the reaper understood there was a strength in him that hadn’t been there before. With that strength came a confidence that he hadn’t had, even when he was free. There was not much left to fear when he’d already died and seen the afterlife. 

Zac was his only remaining weakness, one that he was going to keep close to his heart. Seeing the nephilim’s confusion made him smile softly, happy to have him surging forward to kiss him. There was no hesitance anymore, no fear of being judged by their god. He kissed him back, savouring it and lingering against his lips for a long moment. “I have,” he agreed. The priest wasn’t sure how to describe his changes without seeing pain in the nephilim’s eyes. He didn’t want to cause him any type of pain. 

Sighing, he took a deep breath before beginning. “I - after the halloween party, I was taken back to the suite. I didn’t think Raphael was being kind but I didn’t want to be in the costume so I took the opportunity to duck out,” he explained. While he didn’t want to go into the gory details, he knew he had to explain himself. “Mason was going through his first shift as a werewolf and Raphael was hoping it would change me too,” he explained. In a way, it had been successful but not in the way the master was hoping.

He had woken up, completely changed from the brush with death. There was little he understood about God’s decision to send him back but there was one thing he did understand. He wasn’t scared anymore. The worst had happened already, he had died and been resurrected in the same body but he was sturdier now. The rules behind this new life weren’t clear, he knew there were souls to reap and to guide to their rightful home but that wasn’t what was on his mind. 

Once he had been recollared, this time with something stronger to keep his magic at bay, Patrick had been allowed to go back into the castle. This time he went to the doctor’s office without any worries or hesitance. Knocking on the door, he hovered, watching the nurse work for a moment. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he started and then shook his head. “I’m not that sorry actually.” It was strange, he didn’t feel sorry for much. He felt darkness and anger but it was a righteous anger. 

“Things have changed.” Patrick watched the nurse carefully, seeing the darkness around him as well but he was still pure, full of holy light. A good soul that would find a way home at the father’s side in heaven. “You’ve changed and I’ve changed.” There was still one thing that hadn’t changed. Closing the space between them, he pressed a hand to Zacharias’s cheek, tilting his face up. “This hasn’t changed.”

It was his own fault really, Patrick realised. He let his guard down with a demon and the demon had played a clever little trick. The teeth of the werewolf tore into his flesh, tearing him apart. He could feel the life pouring out of him from every wound on his body, dripping heavily on the floor as he fell to his knees with wide eyes. Every movie or book talked about seeing their lives flashing before their eyes before they died. There was none of that. It was just pain, burning hot as he was torn apart. 

He knew death was coming for him, he could almost see it. His eyes widened one last time, a prayer whispered on his blood covered lips as he finally fell, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud. The prayer was the last thing the priest could remember before he as torn away from the world. 

Getting to kiss him made things feel better, despite the crushing darkness he’d had hanging onto him 24/7. Having Patrick kiss him back felt like something was healing inside him, or maybe everything felt a little less terrible. He didn’t get a chance to respond, instead leaning into the kiss again. One hand moved to Pat’s waist, pulling him closer and holding onto him.

“I’m sorry I left you alone. I hate seeing you suffer.” He felt some uncharacteristic anger bubbling up at the outfit Patrick had been made to wear. If he could, he would have taken it and burned it, but that wasn’t his choice. Even during the time when he was hiding away, he kept thinking about Patrick and longing to see him again. The dying situation definitely made him think differently about his feelings, able to be more honest to himself and not so naive and shy. Because of that, he had recognised how much the human mattered to him, and it hurt to know he could do nothing to help him. “I missed you so much.”

Despite how terrible everything was, he was grateful to steal a few moments away with Zac. Kissing the nephilim managed to calm him, making him feel like he might be able to smile despite everything else he was feeling. As he was pulled closer, Patrick placed a few more lingering kisses to his lips. If they could stay there like this, wrapped up together, Patrick could feel like it was worth living.

“Might want to get used to it,” Raphael replied, smirking. “There’s a lot of that in this castle.” Krovs always knew how to throw a party, especially during Halloween. And what would a party at Krovs be without some debauchery? Naturally, he’d force his slaves to participate since he was a councilman and it’d look bad on him if they didn’t. Plus, he liked to torment them all in his own special way. 

Speaking of torment, there definitely was a catch to his offer for Patrick. Since turning Mason was a success, he figured he ought to do the same to his newest slave. This time he was thinking hellhound – give the poor priest the heat twice a year and the inability to touch holy things. Not that he’d share these plans with Patrick, oh no. He smiled sweetly, feigning innocence. “There’s no catch,” he replied. Just a feral werewolf waiting in his suite, about to shift underneath the full moon’s light. “I’m heading back there for a costume change. Figured I’d be nice and give you the opportunity to get out of here while I’m still in the mood.” The demon paused for a moment before he started walking, wondering if Patrick would follow. “Or you can stay here, dressed like that, and keep witnessing all this debauchery.” 

He knew he would likely be dead before he got used to the depravity that surrounded him. Even if he adapted to seeing writhing bodies in orgies, he would always see it as a sin. The festive season just seemed to be bringing the worst out of people. His master was always this terrible, but that’s what happened when he was stuck around a demon with a fetish for the holy. Truly, Patrick hoped it would burn him in the end and be his downfall. 

cont. from here | @priestpatrick

He didn’t want to go to the village and take part in anything, but he was obligated to at least show his face and it was the only way to get Lovell to stop annoying him. He didn’t want to wear a stupid costume, but it seemed to be too big of a requirement for him to get out of. It was worse to be in barely any clothes, dressed in white shorts with white wings strapped to his back that felt like a lie. He didn’t feel like he deserved the white feathers.

He lingered by the drinks, waiting for an excuse to leave. Maybe one of the werewolves would hurt themselves. To his surprise, someone grabbed him and dragged him away. He hadn’t seen Pat in weeks, not that he didn’t want to. Zac had just been unable to bear the thought that he was no longer the nephilim that had made Patrick feel safe and comfortable before.

He didn’t fight back, leaning against the wall. Feeling his body against him was a surprise but it was the words that broke him. His chest ached, not for himself but for Patrick, who was made to dress up too, who was constantly tormented by these men. Still, he didn’t know if he could tell him the truth.

It was the hand on his cheek that did it. Zac lifted both hands to cup Patrick’s face as he kissed him, not to heal him but to apologise, to show him how much he had missed him, too. “I’m so sorry.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to push down the overwhelming things he was feeling now that he had Zac close again. Patrick had been so certain that he would be okay with dying, knowing there was nothing really left for him in this world. Seeing Zac was a reminder that he wouldn't be okay, not when it meant losing someone he cared about.

Patrick easily leaned in and kissed him, sighing as their lips met. When they broke apart, it was only far enough for him to lean his forehead against his. "No, I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." Instead of overthinking it too much, he kissed Zac again.

🔙 // push my muse against a wall  |  for: @nursezacharias

It had felt like Zac was avoiding him. Maybe it was the outfits but he couldn't help but think something else was going on. He managed to get away for a few moments and found Zac in the crowd. It was hard to miss him when he was dressed the way he was. Patrick felt like he was always drawn to the nephilim somehow, like he was being pushed towards him. He found Zac near the drinks table and he took his hand, dragging him away from the crowd and into a dark alcove.

He didn't know why he was angry, maybe it was the situation he was in now but he felt betrayed that Zac had left him alone. Pushing him back, he pinned Zac to the wall, pressing his body tightly against his. "Why have you been ignoring me?" he asked, his voice coming out softer. After everything the ghoul had been putting him through, he missed Zac so much.

Rebirth || Raph & Patrick

This year’s Halloween party was a success for Raph. He had enough slaves to complete his sexy religious costume theme. Even if they didn’t win, he still had fun and all his slaves looked amazing. Speaking of, he wondered where Patrick had gone off to. Raphael glanced up at the dark sky, catching a glimpse of the blue moon. He heard the howls of shifted werewolves, wondering if any of those in that haunting chorus were his Mason, his first success. He had a very special surprise waiting for his newest addition back in his suite and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be hard to get Patrick back home from this party given what he was wearing. 

He soon found the priest hiding away from all the festivities. The councilman approached him from behind, leaning in close. “Enjoying the party, sister?” he spoke against his ear with a wicked smile. “Or would you like to go back home and change out of that?” 

@priestpatrick

Patrick hadn’t been expecting to be claimed at all. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when he showed up at a particular master’s suite. For the priest, it felt like it was the worst possible situation for him. The guy clearly had a fetish for all things holy and church related. The costume he had been unceremoniously shoved into was proof of that. The party was just another reason for him to dress them up and make fun and play games. Patrick swallowed his pride but that didn’t mean he had to join in on the festivities. The priest had found a particularly dark corner to hide and wait in.