Still not sure when it will be posted but hopefully by the end of March!
Here's a sneak peek to show you what I have planned...
Chapter One of Third Time's the Charm
The One With A Second Chance
Queen blared from the speakers as Sirius hummed along with the beat of Radio Gaga. He smiled as James began to hum under his breath next to him, shaking his hips to the beat. When he started to move his head and fist pump the air as he quite frankly, jammed out, Sirius stifled a laugh. When he began to sing along, Sirius couldn’t help but smile at his friend. He wiggled his own hips along, knocking them against James’ as they grinned widely at each other.
By the time the second verse started, James was singing loudly and powerfully, his smooth voice echoing in the workshop around them.
“Let’s hope you never leave, old friend. Like all good things, on you we depend. So stick around, ‘cause we might miss you, when we grow tired, of all this visual. You had your time, you had the power! You’ve yet to have your finest hour, radio! Radio!” James sang.
When he caught Sirius’ eye, he grabbed the wrench like a microphone and began to really sing as he clapped his hands together.
“All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo! Radio ga ga! Sing it, mate! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo! Radio ga ga! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio blah blah! Radio, what’s new? Some-one still loves you!”
Sirius snorted. “Do they now?”
James shrugged. “Well, I mean, there has to be at least one person who loves you, Padfoot. No one I know, obviously…”
“Piss off,” Sirius said, biting back a laugh.
James reached a hand up to scratch his cheek and spread engine grease all over his face.
Sirius shook his head. “You’re hopeless, Prongs.”
James attempted to wipe it off, but instead only smeared it even worse. “I don’t even understand how this shit gets everywhere!” When he only succeeded in blackening himself more, he pouted. “Help me!” he whined.
Sirius chuckled and reached for a cloth, moving to stand in front of his best mate and brother to scrub his face clean. “There. Hopeless.”
“I’m not hopeless, I’m just not good with the whole machine thing. That’s a wheel, right?”
“Smart arse,” Sirius said, throwing the towel at him. “If you can’t honour the bike, get out of the workshop.”
James chuckled. “That’s the moto-so-che bonneville harley, right?”
“I hate you.”
James grinned and passed his friend the wrench. “Love you, too, brother.”
Marauder barked and ran in a circle around James as Lady Godiva merely lifted her head to watch the dog, looking very unimpressed with Marauder’s antics.
They both looked up when someone came to the door and Fleamont stood there, a smile on his face.
“Boys, getting up to trouble out here?”
“Never, Dad,” James said.
He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Why don’t you come inside? Fee and Lily have prepared a picnic for lunch. Misha is joining us.”
“I hope Fee and the house elves made it,” Sirius said. “If it was Evans, I might not want to risk it.”
“I heard that Sirius Black!” Lily exclaimed, coming up behind Fleamont. “That was one time and I was pregnant with your godson!”
“So you say,” he teased. “I just remember you trying to poison me and Prongs forcing Moony and I to eat it.”
Lily shook her head in amusement before she moved towards Sirius to kiss his cheek. She took James’ hand in hers. “Well, come risk it if you dare. Misha wants to talk to you anyway.”
James tugged on her hand to pull her up against him so that he could kiss his wife deeply. “I love you, Lily.”
“I love you, too,” she said, grinning up at him with her heart in her eyes.
They kissed again and Sirius turned back towards his motorbike to give his friends a moment of privacy.
“I’ll meet you out there in a minute. I just want to finish something first and you two can get the snogging out of your system in the meantime.”
“Never!” James scoffed. “Have you seen these lips? They are the most perfect lips ever made!”
Lily squeezed her husband’s hand. “The sad part is that he’s talking about his own lips. Don’t be too long, Padfoot.”
James squeezed Sirius’ shoulder before wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist and leading her away from the bike. Fleamont put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.
“Don’t be too long, son. You know Fee will want to feed you.”
Sirius nodded. “I won’t, Monty. Save me some of that treacle tart before Jamie eats it all.”
Fleamont chuckled. “No promises.”
Sirius grinned as he turned back to the bike. He picked up the wrench, humming along to “Radio Gaga” as the music seemed to grow louder, rumbling in in his ears like the wireless was moving closer and closer to him. Then, something flashed at his right. He turned, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion as music blared in his ears. He smelt her soap before he saw her and when she flashed again, covered in blood, his eyes widened.
“Zee! What…?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice echoing as the music stopped around him. “I tried to stop them.”
Sirius reached for her, but just as he touched her, his hand passed right through her. Before he could contemplate the vision before him, something punched him right in the chest. It hit him so hard that all of the breath was knocked out of him. He felt like his chest was caved in and that every rib was broken and stabbing him somewhere different. He gasped for breath, his eyes on Zee flashing in and out before him.
“Zee? Zee, where are you?” he demanded, but she flashed again and vanished before his eyes.
“Sirius?” Euphemia asked from the doorway. “Are you coming?”
“Fee…” he whispered, blood bubbling at his mouth.
“Sirius?” she called out, seeming to stare right through him. “Darling, are you in here?”
Euphemia stepped right past him as if she couldn’t see him. Sirius started to speak, unsuccessfully attempting to reach for her when suddenly, hands sprung out from the ground and tightly gripped him by his ankles. He tried to shake them off, ventured to jump away, but the grip was too strong. He reached for Euphemia again, his eyes wide before the hands around his ankles yanked. His boots sank into the ground like quicksand and he was abruptly pulled into the earth. The scream tore through him so loudly that it scorched his throat and Zee’s terrified face flashed before him.
“Zahira!” he cried out. “Zahira!”
He was dragged through the mud; falling and rising like he was clawing his way to the surface, but the surface of what he didn’t know. He swallowed the earth; dirt in his eyes, in his nose, in his mouth. He could hear voices calling him and then there was nothing but the earth and the pain in his chest.
Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
Sharp, searing pain that made him taste his own blood.
Pain like something was being ripped apart inside of him, something that he tried desperately to hold onto to, but no matter how hard he fought, the more it ripped and tore free.
And then there was only blackness.
~ TTTC ~
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Third time's the charm (common denominators) DLC
One of my readers on AO3 asked a description of a room the other day, and then I offered to describe more, and then I wrote too much so,,, here we are?
For anyone who doesn't have the context of my fic; GN!Reader-insert (Dove) is Adam's third wife (made for him ooo) and got stuck In hell during the season finale, this is just a few rooms from that story described in detail.
Story's called "Third time's the charm (common denominators)" and you can find it on ao3.
@alovesongtheywrote
here you are!
<3
Adam’s office
imma describe it like Dove’s investigating it
The office is pretty barebones, there are no pictures, no personal touches, really, it looks like it could belong to anyone. There’s a grand, bow-front oak desk in the centre of the room, and a few mainly empty bookshelves.
(Personally, you know exactly why Adam has a bow-front desk, he loves public stuff, and he loves blowjobs, so– Ugh, actually, let’s not think about that right now.)
There’s a desktop computer on the desk, though it’s mounted so it can easily be pushed and pulled around to see over the desk for meetings and such. You round it and open the drawers on the right side, only to find them empty aside from some menial office supplies, a perforator and such.. That, well, that can’t be right, you take a closer look, and–
Yeah, that’s more like it.
It’s a false bottom, in the hidden compartment of the drawer, there’s a vibrator and three different fleshlights, you vaguely recognize them from when Adam was in this phase and kept leaving the items around the house. He was so obsessed. “Oh! These are made from the moulds of real people, yeah, real human ass! Yeah, this is from a porn star named Chris- Hey hey, don’t look at me like that, bitch, it’s not gay– it’s THE best fucking ass possible, okay, shut the FUCK up!”
You know far too much about them, he would rant for hours and hours how the insides were made to give different textures, and– Oh, yeah, you recognize that big one, you use a pen to turn it over, it was made to ‘help train stamina’, it worked fine, which was the problem. Ugh, you thought he’d gotten rid of these.
Closing the drawer back up, you move to look at his desk, there’s a shit ton of trash on his desk, next to a pile of files he had to go through- You still have no idea what he does in his office, but you think he doesn’t, either. You recognize one of the beer cans, and huff.
That’s another fleshlight, you recognize it, because he used to keep it in the fridge, until you figured out what it was and made him get rid of it. You think he gave up on the incognito sex toys in different places, but seems he just moved them to his work, gross.
His computer is brand new, there’s several games with anime girls as the icons, one called ‘Yandere simulator’.. What’s that? Eh, whatever, unimportant.
The left drawer has a few personal affects, a miniature guitaraxe you got him for his birthday once, several pictures of you, him and/or Lyre. And a few of him and Lute, there’s also a collection of pictures he took during an extermination once, with the three of you absolutely drenched in blood.
There’s a dog bed in the corner, sometimes he takes Lyre to work, ‘Liar’ is embroidered onto the front of the bed, and there’s a small basket of different dog toys, and a hook with a spiked dog collar and studded leash hung off of it, right above the bed.
There is a row of dead cacti on the windowsill, you’re pretty sure Emily keeps giving them to him, the one furthest right is still alive, the one furthest left is the most dead one, they seem to all die of different things, though. One is rotting away (it smells), another is dried down to a raisin, one smells overwhelmingly of alcohol.. This one’s got all of it’s spikes cut out? There’s tweezers next to it and a neat pile of the spikes, jesus christ Adam, what? Another has a tiny collection of swords stabbed through it.
Actually tiny, they’re small swords, okay? You have no idea where he got them.
Moving on from that, there’s—Well, the rest of the place is pretty barren, there’s some panties you don’t recognize halfway under a bookshelf, but what else is new? You huff, having found nothing very interesting, and leave the room, noting that there is no lock on the door.
Again, gross, Adam.
Dove’s hotel room
(Before the return with Lute)
“Should we… I don’t know, empty it out?” Charlie’s hand settles on Vaggie’s shoulder, the fallen angel huffs, shoulders falling.
She’s probably been standing, looking into Dove’s old room, for a little too long.
“I don’t want to.” She murmurs lowly, Charlie smiles, but Vaggie looks away.
“Then we won’t.” Her girlfriend assures, Vaggie nods slowly, glancing around the room.
“I’d like to be alone, for a while, if that’s okay.” Charlie nods, pressing a quick kiss against Vaggie’s cheek. Her hands settle on her girlfriend’s shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze before she pulls away.
“Of course, Vaggie, I’ll be downstairs if you need me, okay?” Vaggie nods mutely, and Charlie leaves.
Vaggie squares her shoulders, then enters the room, shutting the door behind her.
Dove’s room is… A mess, really, there’s a bluetooth speaker on the nightstand, it is on, though it chimes every few seconds that it has a low battery. There’s a clock, but it’s several hours behind. The floor is littered with dirty clothes, and there are dishes around the room, though, they are oddly all clean of food residue.
There are cans of.. Mace? On the floor? All empty, it’s not like it’s a few of them either.
Vaggie confiscates the cigarettes she finds.
The bed has a single plush duck at the centre of the pillows. The pillows themselves are more set up like a nest than in a row by the headboard, which Vaggie vaguely remembers is one of Dove’s habits. There are three different TVs around the room, not a single one is fully off, one has a screensaver of ducklings in water for some reason, and another is playing ‘funniest murder videos’, again, blissfully, the volume is down.
Vaggie sighs, and turns off anything electronic she can find, she plugs the speaker into a charger. Then finds all three of the TV remotes and sets them on top of the nightstand (they are all incompatible with the other two TVs, but look exactly the same. Thank you, Dove.)
Looking around the room for anything else that should be dealt with before she.. Well, locks the room up for the foreseeable future, she’s kind of confused by her findings.
Food items, or even sex toys, is what she expects to find, that was a really weird thing with Dove. For some reason, the angel had a thing with keeping sex toys in the worst places possible. Vaggie would assume they were Adam’s if Dove weren’t so adamant they were theirs.
Weird.
But none of that was there, if anything, aside from the weirdly obnoxious TVs, and, for some reason, a mini-fridge, the room was kind of…
Bittersweet.
There was a pet bed under one of the windows, full of a certain cat’s black hair, but much bigger than necessary to be intended for Keekee, distinctly the size of a certain dog. As an extra punch in the gut, there’s a small shopping bag with a few necessities, toys, a collar and leash, and food. There’s a bowl set up to the side, it’s topped off with fresh water for Keekee.
There’s a desk, though it’s been buried under trash–or, well, it’s been buried under.. Stuff, new stuff, the most of it, like Dove has been going on a buying (or shoplifting) spree. There’s also a simple potted plant that blooms with Lilac flowers, Lute distinctly remembers Emily having one that looks like it.
She moves on, passing the walk-in closet, and the bathroom looks oddly untouched aside from some golden stains in the sink. There’s also a towel crumpled on the ground, it too, is covered in bloodstains. It’s long dry, the blood appearing brown and the cloth looks like it’d crunch if Vaggie tried to unfold it.
When did Dove get hurt? She… She can’t really think of a time.
She closes the bathroom door, she’ll ask Charlie to throw away the towel, she was sure Alastor would try to eat it or something, and that was frankly freaky when it’s her parent’s blood.
Continuing down the room, there’s a few leafy red plants in the windowsill that Vaggie thinks used to stand in other places in the hotel. The rest of the surface seems clear, aside from grime, and Vaggie almost passes by, but…
There’s a pile of pictures on the dusty windowsill, packed in a folder from some shop in hell that apparently printed them. The pictures were obviously well-loved, and frequently visited, by the smudged dust around the pile.
Vaggie sits down on the bed with the pictures and sorts through them.
She quickly figures that these are all images that were on Dove’s phone, there are.. A lot of them, she sets them in little piles, a few of the pictures are of Liar, but a lot of them are…
Candids?
She didn’t know a lot of these existed, it was a little odd, really, to see herself like this. It was just.. Domestic moments, most of them. One of her asleep in a pile with a few of the other exorcists and Lute. One of her and the others all drinking, with Dove’s face halfway in the frame in what was intended to be a selfie.
Also a lot of.. Lute.
A surprising amount, really.
Lute and Dove at a fair, with a seal plush between them (though Lute looked wholly unamused), the two of them with Liar, and many of them just..
Well.
Asleep? Cuddling? A lot of Lute, asleep, curled up in increasingly strange positions or situations. Vaggie had seen Dove take these sometimes, always with the excuse of ‘blackmail’, but…
She’s pretty sure the wing in the one she holds is Dove, Lute’s asleep ontop of Dove’s wing. That on it’s own could be fine but–
There’s a lot like that, a lot that seem oddly intimate, Vaggie shakes her head.
Dove is literally created to love men, and nothing else, Vaggie’s just reading into it too much. Lute never seemed close to them anyway.
She puts the pictures back, and stands, there’s a few loose feathers about, a few are white, but that’s not too strange, sometimes down was lighter than the normal feathers. What is strange is that there is an engraved money clip on the floor, with a few spare hundred dollars in it.
Vaggie hesitates, that’s hell’s currency, not heaven’s. How did Dove even–
She picks it up, reads what’s engraved.
Ah.
What the fuck.
LM.
…Christ, Dove, did you really steal from my father-in-law…?
She sighs, glancing one last time around the room, she unplugs some electronics (not the minifridge) and then locks the room behind her, intent to find Charlie to.. Find a way to return this without (rightfully) pissing off Lucifer.
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