#!verse 1

santiago always had an affinity for the more violent moods of the skies; whether that be snowfall so thick that one couldn’t see one’s own hand if held out in the rough winds of the clashing of lightning and thunder overhead as rain fell so heavily that even with an umbrella it was near impossible to escape being soaked to the bone. even with his own affinity, he did understand why many creatures, even those who had no logical reason to fear nature herself, flinched at such intense displays of natural power. 

His own bed was much more comfortable and fitting than someone else’s couch, but he hadn’t been willing to make the journey home. Therefore he took what was offered (read : what he felt he was entitled to) and decided that making use of the oracle’s accommodations would work for the night.

He had not at all expected such a rude awakening and for a moment he opens his eyes but tries his best to tune out the other man, instead staring straight up at the ceiling. It doesn’t work and he sits up with a sharp exhale, frowning and tossing a couch pillow across the room moodily. .

“You have terrible manners; a horrible host.”

“you decided to take refuge on my couch, i neither invited you nor said you could stay.” he snaps and catches the pillow before tucking it under his arm as he looks down at len before checking his watch with a click of his tongue. “if i make you coffee will you get your degenerate ass off of my couch?” 

it had been a long time since santi found himself visited in the dark of the night. the incubus’ presence alone wasn’t enough to put him on edge – not with how at ease orion was with him, and even the suffocating press against his bare didn’t entirely rouse him. 

when one kept company as the oracle did, one became adjusted to strange behavior and odd awakenings at all hours. sleep paralysis was something santiago often inflicted upon himself, in fits of emotion or vision, and he was relatively unbothered with the demon’s presence until their lips met. 

santi had a variety of friends from a variety of places ( several warlocks, vampires and even a tea dragon ), but he’d never actually found a witch who was worth is time. there was an influx of frauds in the most recent millennia, due to a multitude of books and shows romanticizing the far too difficult craft, and some managed to find their way into the downworld. 

it usually wasn’t in santi’s nature to snap at someone, but the moment his cards sent out a sound of alarm, he was out of his back room and snatched the deck out of the girl’s hand without so much as a second glance. “you shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you.”