#and it wasn’t the first time i’ve gotten second degree burns at work either

[darning-alder]

Realizing you really are an ao3 writernot because you write fanfic on ao3, but because you genuinely texted the words “I’ve hurt myself horrifically in some truly ridiculous ways plenty of times before so I know how to take care of a lot of injuries” when telling my friends about how I was a dumbass at work and badly burned my hand

[forthevillains]

Devil’s advocate

Murderer Albert Wesker X lawyer fem!reader

If you could go back to when you took the case - you would. You’ve barely gotten the degree to be a lawyer and your time was already about to be filled with work. You were great, you excelled in law, but after a few internship experiences you didn’t expect to be assigned your next client so quickly. It was unusual for someone so young be asked for something like that, not even talking about the amount of money your future client was about to pay.

You took the job almost immediately, glad you’ve caught someone’s eye, but only when you got to know what the case was, you realized how terrible your mistake was. You were to defend a man accused of a murder. Not only that, they also forgot to mention that all the lawyers he’s hired so far have given up. That’s probably why you were asked to do it and why they didn’t provide you with much information at first - so that you didn’t have a choice anymore.

No matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, the fact that you were to meet potential murderer almost gave you a heart attack. You were only an advocate to husbands and wives who either wanted a divorce or stood against it. Once there was a case where it was a thief you were to defend, but nothing as serious as this.

You walked your way through the hallway of the prison, ready to meet with your client for the very first time. Your hands were shaky, legs barely listening to you as you wanted nothing more than to run away, but you couldn’t. You were already here, you agreed to the job. You had to do this. What’s the worst scenario? You lose the case and he goes to jail, which would be well deserved if he was the murderer after all, right?

You were led all the way to the back by the guards where a chair has been waiting for you, only glass separating you from the man and you held your breath for a moment not to let out a gasp as you lay your eyes on him. He was nothing like you expected him to be. Your eyes were locked on his blue ones for a moment before they began scanning his face, his beautiful face. He couldn’t be older than 50, though it was obvious he wasn’t the youngest either. His blonde hair was slicked back, or at least attempted to as a few strands fell in his face. He had sharp features and his look gave away no emotion, absolutely none. He just stared at you, analyzing you.

"There you have him. Albert Wesker, what a son of a bitch.” As the guard spoke, you raised an eyebrow. It sounded as if he mocked you for even being there. "You’re free to ask him questions that you need, but I doubt he’ll cooperate.” And with that, both of the guards left you there with Wesker. With the mysterious man who looked as if no scientist in the world could study enough. He felt like someone unreal to you, too beautiful to even commit a crime as such he was accused of.

As you sat down you could still feel his eyes lingering on you, making you feel cornered even though you were the one that could always flee, unlike him.

"So, mr. Wesker, I am Y/N,” you introduced yourself and gave him a smile to ease up the tension. "I know probably everyone has said this to you, but trust me - I’m here to actually help you as much as I can. And I’ll do everything in my power to do so.” No, not everyone has said this to him. In fact, you were the first one and he took a mental note of that, yet remained silent. No matter how much he wanted to respond to you, he fought that urge.

You waited a second to see if he had anything to say, but as he just continues to burn you with his gaze, you gave up and continued. "So uhm.” You grew nervous. "I’ve been informed that the murder has supposedly happened at the victim’s household where your knife has been found right next to the body. Can you tell me more to that?”

Wesker’s eyes lit up at your question, but still - he refused to talk. It’s not like he was scared to do so, or that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, no. He liked to mess with people who came there. It was much more enjoyable to watch them struggle with silence rather than the truth or his believable lies. And seeing such a pretty little lamb like you be caught in his trap - he couldn’t let such an opportunity go to waste.

You waited again, expecting at least the slightest of answers, even if just a single word, but nothing came. Your frustration grew and the pen you’ve been holding in your hand to write down important notes seemed like your best friend in the world as you kept rolling it between your fingers to ease up the tension you felt. And he was watching that. Wesker watched every single movement you made as if he was watching his prey.

"Okay fine,” you said after a while of silence and that made him shot up his eyes back to yours. It felt as if he was piercing right through you again. You knew you’d be seeing his eyes in your dreams, or rather nightmares tonight if he didn’t stop doing it. "That was probably too much for a start,” you sighed. "We should probably get to know each other a bit more so that you could trust me at least enough to talk.” He didn’t need to trust you to speak up, but he enjoyed watching your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you attempted to make him talk. He found it quite adorable.

"If you don’t want to say anything about yourself in return - it’s alright. But well… If you don’t like lawyers, it’ll perhaps calm you down a bit that I’m technically not the stereotype yet, because I’ve not acquired the ability to be that good of a liar for now, nor do I care about the paycheck more than my client’s comfort,” you chuckled at your own joke and even though you didn’t notice, the edges of his lips twitched upwards at that moment. You couldn’t even notice because he immediately went back to acting emotionless. But you were right - he hated lawyers. "Just two years ago I was still just a student and now I’m trying luck with what I’ve been told I’m good at. I live uhm… alone, with just a cat and a dog that are the closest to family I have. I also love to read, all sorts of books, actually, I might even bring you some if you’re a reader as well. Oh and my favorite color’s red." As you spoke, he watched you with admiration. Wesker was too surprised as who the hell sent him such an angel. You were by far the weirdest and sweetest lawyer that he’s ever met. Offering him your stuff only so that he wouldn’t die of boredom?

When you looked at him again, you expected at least a response to that, even if just a nod of his head. But as much as you got your hopes high, nothing happened once again. "Right… It’s okay, it’s okay.” You muttered, rather to yourself than him as you weren’t sure if he was listening at all. Though he was. He heard you loud and clear, his interest in you growing each second. "Now, can you at least tell me an alibi as to why you weren’t in the house of the victim? It would really help me, having something to work with.” It was clear the hope was slowly becoming nothing but a mist that’d soon turn into nothing.

Again. It was no use. Again and again, as you asked, he kept quiet. And you grew so impatient that you just got up and threw your notebook at the chair behind you with a loud smack. "Alright, I tried in here and obviously, you do not care, so I hope you have a good time in jail because I have nothing to defend you with.” You said, trying to sound rude, yet even then you couldn’t leave out wishing him good stay, not a bit of irony in your voice. You truly meant it. But as you were to leave - you finally heard his voice. And it felt so unreal you thought you were dreaming.

"I’m looking forward to it, dearheart.”

It sounded so good to you and you hated it. "Oh so now you talk?” You turned back to him and got close to the glass, placing your hands upon the desk before you so that you could lean even closer towards it. "Are you doing this for sport or what?”

Wesker only smiled, his eyes sliding lower, to your cleavage area before looking back up into your eyes. You gave him the perfect view as he was sitting before you and you were leaning forward. "Though I gotta admit you’d really look good in red.” Now you were done with him. That was the last straw. You shook your head, you couldn’t believe it. You got your things and left immediately. Little did you know that it was indeed just a sport to him. He was rich enough for the government to overlook his crimes, he was powerful enough to protect himself, he was smart enough to cover up any murder he’d commit. He didn’t need you, but the way he lived was quite tiring so he’s decided to have a little fun for once.

Something similar happened the second time you came to visit him, to gather more information to work with. It was useless, this man was inscrutable. Not only was he paying for your services more than he should, but he also made you feel desperate at how hard he was making it for you. He spoke a little more this time, but it was nothing even slightly connected to the case. What an asshole… All his questions considered only you, he did not let you know a thing about himself. You wanted to quit so badly. Only being in Wesker’s presence was unbearable as he kept giving you looks, basically stripping you off everything you had, including your sanity.

And even as your worries grew, the day of the trial has come. It had to one day, but you felt as if it wasn’t enough time for you. You had no idea what to do at all, sure you’ve read all the files containing as much information as other people gathered, but you still wanted to hear your client’s opinion, you wanted his voice included in yours as you spoke, you wanted to do him justice - whether that be losing or winning the case.

When you found your seat next to your terribly annoying client, you couldn’t help but look away dramatically. That made him chuckle.

"Nervous, dearheart?” Oh how you just wanted to slap him, no matter the tingles that spread in your stomach every time he spoke. His voice was deep, raspy, basically being the only indication of his age. But did you love hearing it. If only the words that kept coming out of his mouth were different…

"Not that I’m the one who should be,” you snapped at him. But deep down you knew he was getting to you. His words were like stabs to your back and you knew they’d lead to your failure.

Still. You tried your best during the trial. Though, it was difficult, having that man seated right behind you as you stood in front of the judge, feeling his piercing gaze on you even with your back turned to him. Wesker couldn’t have been more entertained. Whenever you turned to him to see his reaction to your words, it was all the same. The cold look of his eyes, corners of his lips twitching upwards with each word that left your mouth, knowing full well he’s guilty, knowing that you’re doing your best to cover up what he’s done. It was a funny game to him. Nothing but a game where he couldn’t lose whether you succeeded or not.

Halfway through, you seemed to have lost it all. You ran out of information, unable to argue, yet you still tried. Until finally, you were interrupted by the judge himself and you had to stop. The verdict was obvious. Albert Wesker wouldn’t be going home today.

And even though you should’ve enjoyed the bastard’s imprisonment, you felt bad about yourself. It was selfish, yes, but the loss meant no good for your career.

Your fists clenched at each side as you were sitting beside your beyond irresistible client.

"You did a good job considering you’re inexperienced,” he whispered towards you.

"Enjoy your jail time,” you proceeded to say through gritted teeth which only earned you a satisfied chuckle from him.

"Don’t worry about me, dearheart. We will meet again soon enough and maybe then you’ll reconsider your attitude.” The way he said those words so calmly made you shiver with unease. You had no idea that it was no threat, he just had informed you of his plans. A little sneak peak of what’s in store for you and you have no other way than to buy it.

The murderer truly came for you, just a few days later he stood outside your apartment, freed of all the restraints, waiting to finally get to know you on a deeper level and make you enjoy every single bit of his company that you’d be granted. You couldn’t say no, he’d make sure of it….

[13uswntimagines]

Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)

Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam. 

Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand. 

“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it. 

“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin. 

“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?” 

“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents. 

You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy. 

“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them. 

“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her. 

You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”

“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food. 

“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!” 

You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.” 

“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right. 

“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork. 

Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?” 

“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,” 

“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. 

“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,”  Sam said shaking her head. 

Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,” 

“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman. 

“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”

“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.” 

“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.  

“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along. 

“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted. 

“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.

Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,” 

You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set. 

“What is that?” 

“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling. 

“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove. 

In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart. 

“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face. 

“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister. 

“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun. 

“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.

“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump. 

“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously. 

“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly. 

“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked. 

“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”

“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane. 

“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter. 

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?” 

*****

“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”

“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally. 

“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back. 

“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled. 

How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it. 

“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.” 

“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her. 

“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls. 

“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”

“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.  

“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded. 

You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?” 

“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you

You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”  

“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.

“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat. 

“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used. 

You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth. 

You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”

“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container. 

Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream. 

“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly. 

Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”

Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess. 

“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out. 

You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk. 

“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing. 

Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,” 

“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded. 

You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”

 Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,” 

You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,” 

You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you. 

[iamverysmall-andihavenomoney]

“It’s going to be okay.”

I just did a couple of my comfort characters for this one. Send in requests if you want to see specific characters, I’d love to write for y’all’s comfort characters too 🤍

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Pairing(s): Suna Rintarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Miya Atsumu x Gender Neutral! Reader, Tsukishima Kei x Gender Neutral! Reader, Bokuto Kōtarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Oikawa Tōru x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Fluff/Comfort, Reader is stressed out because of jobs/midterms/college in general, reader cries

Suna Rintarō:

It had been a rough week.

It felt like everything was going wrong. Day in and day out.

It felt like the universe was hell bent on making you break, this past week.

You worked as a barista, while you got yourself through college. 

Not an easy job, despite what some people liked to believe.

And with each day came a new promise.

Monday? A trip to the ER with second and third degree burns on your arms, when an angry customer had taken out their anger on you.

Tuesday? Your boss had yelled at you - humiliated you in front of the rest of your coworkers.

Wednesday? You ended up not realizing that yo were decorated in chocolate syrup, when you slumped on your bed, having to wash the sheets and most of you laundry, after.

Thursday? You’d tripped while at work and gotten to go home early, with your face burning in embarrassment at the snickers of other college students.

Friday? A pop quiz that you were 50% sure you failed.

Now it was Saturday, your studying? Done. Your assignments? Completed.

But you still felt the stress of the past week weighing on you.

So when you started tearing up, Suna couldn’t say he was surprised. He wished he could have made this past week easier for you.

Midterms were coming up, as well, just adding to the stress you were already feeling.

So, your boyfriend just does what comes natural to him, when it comes to you.

Rintarō doesn’t waste a moment when he returns from practice, spotting you slumped over on the couch, glaring at the floor while you tried not to let any tears fall from your eyes. With your choice comfort movie playing on the screen, he knew he had to do something.

   Even if you had been pushing him away out of frustration, for the duration of this entire week.

   Rintarō walks over to you and gently scoops you up in his arms, before sitting on the couch with you in his lap. Well-manicured nails begin to softly and affectionately run over your scalp, bringing a comfort to you that you could no longer deny you needed. Desperately.

   He tugs you gently so you’re comfortable in his lap before he brings a calloused hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone softly. He can’t help his sweet, soft smile as he sees the first tears trickle down your cheeks. He normally hated to see you cry, but he knew that you needed to get this out.

   Sometimes, people just needed to scream and cry to get pent up emotion out. So when you started sobbing, completely collapsing against your boyfriend’s chest, he pulls you as close to him as you can possibly get, rocking you as he cradles your body against his own. 

   “There’s my baby, let it out...” His tone is soft as his hand holds your head against his chest. “Let it all out. It’s going to be okay. I’m here and I’ve got you.” 

   He doesn’t quite know how long it is until your sobs quiet down, the crying wearing you out, but it doesn’t matter to him. He snatches the remote up to restart the movie that you’d failed to get through, earlier, before tossing that same remote across the couch so he could readjust your bodies.

   Leaning his shoulders and head against the pillow and armrest, he reclines himself, allowing you to get comfortable on top of him. As you rest on him, he brings a hand to your cheek once again, wiping away any remnants of the tears that had previously decorated your cheeks.

   “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.” 

Miya Atsumu: 

Being stressed around your boyfriend?

Unheard of.

Atsumu is a perceptive little shit who picks up on the smallest changes in your mood.

And he will do everything in his power to reassure you, or cheer you up, whatever you need.

So, it’s not built up stress that gets you.

No, it’s the phone call you get in the middle of the night, while you’re resting in Atsumu’s arms.

You and Atsumu put your phones on do not disturb/bedtime mode every night.

Very few people are set up so that your phone will ring, when they call.

So, you end up waking up pretty quickly at the sound of a familiar ringtone, Atsumu sleepily sitting up beside you as you sit up to take the call.

Your best friend.

Who had just been admitted to the hospital after a car crash.

They were most likely going to make it, but they were still undergoing surgery and you knew that anything could happen.

You were her emergency contact so they called you from the ambulance.

Not too long after, you found out that the other person was undergoing surgery and probably wouldn’t make it.

The realization that that could have been your best friend made you feel like you couldn’t breath.

Atsumu had been watching your frantic pacing for the past ten minutes, watching you work yourself up more and more. You were shaking, though you hadn’t turned to him yet, like you always did, when you needed comfort. And he was too scared to make it worse.

   Until he heard how your breath caught in your throat, once again, nearly sounding like you were about to start hyperventilating. Standing, the tall volleyball player comes to stop in front of you, gently grasping your wrists in his hands to make you look at him. He doesn’t say anything as you let out a shaky breath and crumble against him, just falling into his open arms.

   Cradling you against him with his large palm at the back of your head, he lets you get out the emotions that were pent up, soft sobs being let out against his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he whispers soft words of encouragement. “They’re going to be okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay, I promise. And have I ever broken my promises to you?”

   With a shake of your head, your sobs quiet and all that’s left escaping you are quiet sniffles. If anyone was able to calm you, it’d be your Tsumu. There wasn’t a bad day you could remember that he hadn’t made things better. Your boyfriend always knew what to say... When it came to you, at least.

   It wasn’t ten minutes later when a doctor came out to let you know that the surgery had been a success and that your friend was okay.

   They’d be asleep for a few hours, allowing you to go home and change from your pajamas, if you would like. You didn’t catch that bit with the immediate relief that flooded through you.

   You both did end up going home to shower and change, wanting to get you both and your friend some food on your way back. As soon as you were in the comfort of your own home, Atsumu took your face in his hands, cradling your cheeks and gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

   “As long as I’m around, I am going to make sure that everything works out in the end. I don’t like seeing you cry and I don’t like seeing you stressed out. You’re my significant other and I’m going to take care of you.” He reassures you earnestly. “It’s all going to be okay, I promise.”

   And as his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, you know that it is, in fact, all going to be okay. You had Atsumu and he had you.

Tsukishima Kei:

Mid-terms aren’t shit.

Not only are the tests long, and hard, and stressful,

But both you and Kei had them.

And both you and Kei had attitudes - especially when it came to either of you getting stressed out.

So, you both decided to stay and study on your own for the most part, until exams were over.

It was only a week, after all, how much harm could a single week do to the two of your mental states?

A lot, apparently.

It was Kei who caved first, surprisingly, needing to see you.

It was actually pretty unsurprising, boy is whipped for you.

Grabbing his keys, he tugs on the hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with grabbing you matching one that you’d left at his place.

Then he leaves, his usual preference to wear pants rather than sweatpants, when he left his home, being overpowered by his craving to see you.

And he knew you needed to see him too.

But if anyone was more stubborn than he was about things, it was you and he knew you weren’t going to cave anytime soon.

What he didn’t expect when he entered your home was to find you crying into your hands, in a pile of your own notes, with your computer in front of you.

He furrowed his brows - you had overwhelmed yourself...

Because he hadn’t been here to prevent you from it.

Kei sighs as he listens to the clanking of keys together, his attempts to unlock the door to your apartment failing multiple times, before finally ending in success. At least he knew no one would ever break into your apartment. They wouldn’t be able to get in.

Look at him, he’d been over here a dozen times and it still took him about three minutes to manage your locks open. You must know how much he loved you with the fact he still put up with it. He enters the home, near silently, placing the strawberry shortcakes and milkshakes down on the counter, his keys being hung beside yours. Walking past your kitchen, he freezes in the doorway, hearing your quieted sobs before he sees you.

He had never, not even in his years of playing volleyball, moved as quickly as he did in that moment. He moved to kneel in front of where you were seated on the couch, taking your laptop and shutting it.

Kei knew you hadn’t opened your eyes, or moved your hands from shielding your face to see him, but you knew it was him with the way you slid off of the spot on the couch to kneel on the floor, your face finding familiar purchase in his neck.

“I’m not around for a few days and you manage to overwork yourself like this. God damn it, Y/N, don’t do this again.” His words, no matter if they should have sounded angry, just came out worried.

You knew that the only person he was mad at was himself for even suggesting the idea of you both spending time studying individually.

“I’m right here, okay? I’m not going to be going anywhere,” placing a large hand on the back of your head, he gently kisses the crown of your head. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“It’s all going to be okay,” his soothing voice calms you quite a bit, making your body slump against his in relaxation. “There’s my shortcake. Just relax, alright. We’ll study more later. In the meantime, we’re going to watch a movie and eat the sweets I brought. I don’t want you to think about those god damn exams.” Your nod in confirmation is all he needs to get you both comfortable on the couch so he can take care of his partner... Like he should have been going this entire time.

Bokuto Kōtarō:

Kōtarō, despite people thinking he’s not the smartest, is a very intelligent person.

Especially when it comes to emotional intelligence.

Which is why he figured out about your family issues, within a month.

Poor boy wished he could do something, though other than the constant sleepovers in high school, there wasn’t much else he could do. It broke his heart.

But that changed, when you both graduated high school together.

He didn’t allow you to stay any longer in that house. You’d dealt with the constant yelling and the lack of care for your feelings, long enough.

Though, that didn’t mean you’d escaped it when you went to reunions or to visit them on holidays.

They always managed to drag you into going.

And they always managed to drag you into their bullshit.

Kōtarō hadn’t been able to go to this year’s reunion - a practice game held him up.

His presence usually encouraged your family member to back the fuck off and not drag you into things.

But, this time...

He was just glad he’d gotten there when he did.

Pulling up in the driveway of the designated home of this particular family reunion, he could hear the yelling, as soon as he stepped out of his car. The volleyball player tensed up as he quickly walked towards the home, throwing the door open without care.

    Kōtarō wished you wouldn’t put yourself through this. You didn’t deserve it. He enters the living room, most of the arguing falling silent at his presence, already knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to get on them for their bullshit. Walking over to you, where you sat, slumped at the dinner table, your head in your hands, he frowns.

   He wasn’t surprised when he found tears in your eyes as he gently picked your head up to look at him. A frown befalls him, once again and he guides you to stand, pulling you into his embrace, his hand holding your head against him, practically cradling you.

   He holds you for a few long moments to let you calm down, before he turns towards your family, letting you go so he can take your hand. “We’re leaving. They’re tired.”

   No one argues. They’d seen how angry Kōtarō got when it came to you and they didn’t want to face the wrath of the angry volleyball player.

   Without another word from you both, or spoken to you both, Kōtarō escorts you out of the house. As soon as you’re out, you can hear the yelling ensue, once again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispers as he pulls you into him, once again. “It’s going to be okay.” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

   “I promise. We’ll go home and take a long bath... We can make some cookies and relax. We can even watch some Disney movies and make a pillow fort. How’s that sound, my sweet owl?” Kōtarō cooes as he begins to walk you to the car, smiling at you as he noticed how relaxed you seemed to be out, away from them and with your fiancé.

   No matter if he could help your family’s constant fighting, he’d always be here to whisper soft reassurances to you and make sure that everything was okay.

Oikawa Tōru:

Dating Tōru isn’t easy.

Living over 18,000 kilometers from one another was no easy feat.

Somedays are easier than others.

And this wasn’t one of those ‘easier’ days.

No, not at all.

Instead, today is one of those days that you tug on Tōru’s old volleyball jacket and bury your nose in the collar, hopping it’ll smell somewhat like him.

One of those days that you watch his dazzling face appear on the screen of your television and pretend he’s here with you.

It’s one of those days that you shoot him an ‘I miss you’ text and he’s unable to reply.

You both make it work because you love one another and want to watch the other succeed and do what they love.

But sometimes, it would be so much easier if you both lived on the same continent.

What you didn’t realize was that he hadn’t been to reply to you, because he was caught up getting his stuff off of the plane and into a car.

He was exhausted, but excited to see you.

He wasn’t expecting to come home and find you asleep on your couch, wrapped up in his jacket with dried tears on your cheeks.

Tōru dropped his bags at the door - he could worry about them later, right now he needed to get to you. With his signature grin, he walks through the kitchen, “Cutie,” he cooes through the apartment, before halting as he enters your living room, head tilting like a confused puppy’s would as he spotted you.

   His brows furrow and a frown crosses his lips, walking over to you and dropping to his knees in front of your sleeping form on the couch. He brings his hand up to gently stroke your cold cheek. “Y/N...” He cooes as he caresses your face, waiting for you to stir. Once you begin to open your eyes, a smile returns to his face, seeing your excitement overpower the sleepiness in your features.

   “You’re here...” You whisper, pushing yourself forward to hug your fiancé, no matter how unconventional this position was for you both. “I missed you,” you mumble into the soft cloth of his shirt, inhaling deeply. Peppermint. He always smelled like peppermint and it was a scent you had immensely missed.

   “I missed you too, cutie... But it’s okay. I’m here, now.” Tōru reassures, shifting so that he can scoop you up into his arms while you curl up into him.

   Not hesitating to want to fall asleep with you in his arms, once again, he brings you to the bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and pulling out comfier clothes for the both of you. Unpacking could wait later. Explanations of the vacation he was taking could wait. You being comfortable and in his arms was all he wanted.

   He undresses you, putting one of his shirts on you, before he undresses, as well, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, before he pulls back the covers and slides under them with you.

   Long, toned arms come to wrap themselves securely around you, pulling you into a tanned chest. “I missed you so much... But I’m here now, alright?” He whispers to you, kissing your head with a tenderness that only you got to see from the Argentinian volleyball player.

    “Go to sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up.”

    It was safe to say you fell asleep peacefully in his arms, finding peace in the fact that you’d soon be happily waking up in his arms.

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @knyfutureauzine! I’m grumpy we didn’t get any aftermath whump or hurt/comfort in the series.

…

…

…

…

i.

Someone knocked on the door. It was a quiet sound, barely audible in the yard. The rough scrubbing of dirty clothes drowned out any other noise. Arms deep in soapy water, Aoi wasn’t even entirely certain she hadn’t imagined it. No one else seemed to have heard it. Not Kanao as she diligently hung every cleaned shirt. Not Sumi, Kiyo, or Naho as they swept the house, the soft pitter-patter of their feet echoing through the hallways.

Just as Aoi went back to work, she heard a second sharp rap. This time Kanao noticed as well, her blank eyes turning toward the entrance. “Someone’s there,” she murmured, halfway to hanging a pair of pants.

“I’ll get it,” Aoi replied quickly, before Kanao could move. While her now-blind sister could navigate the butterfly estate without help, Aoi didn’t want her to exert herself more than she had to. “It’s probably a pillar.”

Leaping to her feet, she left a trail of droplets as she hurried to the front door. They used to guess, before it all went down, just who’d dropped by. Nine times out of ten, the answer would have been Mitsuri. She had liked to appear for no other reason than to hug and spread her love. Obanai had lurked in her shadow, begrudgingly taking a cup of tea whenever a nervous Kiyo gave it to him. A rarer visit had been a clueless Giyu, who never understood why Shinobu only offered terse replies and sharp smiles.

Aoi’s favourite had been Rengoku, with his sunny smiles and even sunnier disposition. Part of her still expected his golden hair as she yanked open the door.

Instead, a beaming Tanjirou stood at the entrance, and Aoi tried not to let her disappointment show on her face. It had been at least a year since they’d all died. She should have known better than to expect a ghost. “You’re late,” she huffed, letting the irritation wash over her and mask her emotions.

“Sorry about that.” He didn’t look the least bit contrite for that. In his hands was a bouquet of sunflowers and he gently held them out. “Nezuko picked these.”

“It couldn’t have been you,” she muttered half-heartedly, carefully taking the bundle. There’s no flowery scent when she sniffs, just the usual weak smell of leaves and plants. “They’re pretty. Is she coming later?”

“Yep, with Sanemi!” Tanjirou lightly stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and putting on the slippers she pointed at. They were the same ones from when he’d trained here. “He’s really nice to her, but he still doesn’t seem to like me. I wonder if I did something to him?”

“Who knows?” Scratching her chin, Aoi thought about the scarred wind pillar. They didn’t cross paths often, no reason to outside of funerals and memorials, but his sharp edges seemed to have softened. Whatever bark was left in him was brittle, easily cracked. Rumour had it that it was because of his brother’s death. She could believe that. Aoi didn’t feel like the same person she had been before Shinobu’s death, before Kanae’s or her parent’s loss.

Grief had a way of changing a person.

“Inosuke and Zenitsu are coming soon, they’re just getting some more flowers,” Tanjirou added, not sounding too bothered by it. Maybe he knew more than he let on. His burn mark was bright in the morning light and maybe, limited time had a way of making problems less important.

“Then they’ll be on time for once,” she snipped, resting a hand on her hip. Aoi frowned up at him. “Though they weren’t the ones who promised to help clean up.”

“Right, right.” Tanjirou laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck. His smile was disarming. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry—just don’t do it again.” With that resolved, she led Tanjirou toward the yard, her arm still laden with sunflowers. The bright yellows contrasted with the dreary walls of the compound, their footsteps loud against the silent backdrop. Everything felt unusually muted and the rooms utterly depressing. It was irrational; the décor hadn’t changed since Shinobu’s death and the estate had always been some flavour of quiet. With Shinobu and Kanao often out for missions, Aoi had gotten used to a certain level of absence. Though, there had been one exception, one time that the halls had been filled with noise. The time that those three had studied here, when rooms had been filled with Zenitsu’s cries, Tanjirou’s laughter, and Inosuke’s overconfident roars.

The estate had been full those days. Hopeful, even. Aoi remembered believing that they could make it through with a minimal amount of casualties. Now she had more deaths than she had fingers.

“It’s quiet,” Tanjirou murmured, startling her out of her thoughts.

She glanced at him. Was he thinking of those far gone days too? “Yeah, it is.”

“And peaceful,” he added, smiling fondly. “I’ve always liked that about here. I can just sit and think, without worrying.”

It was strange, really, how the same thing could appear in two different ways at once. How the same observation could lead to two different conclusions. He wasn’t wrong. Neither was she. Before she could reply, they reached the veranda.

“Tanjirou?” Kanao guessed from the clothesline, slowly turning around to greet them.

“Yeah.” His expression softened to the same degree that hers brightened, his voice catching slightly. Aoi wondered if he realized just how much his love showed through him, that love that powered him through to save his sister’s life and now was focused on the single girl in front of him. Even if Kanao couldn’t see it, she must have felt it.

Aoi knew when she was the third wheel. Gently, she pushed him toward her sister. “You two, finish the laundry! We don’t have much time before the others get here!”

“Okay, okay, got it.” Over his shoulder, Tanjirou smiled at her as bright as the sun, as bright as Rengoku, and she felt a familiar lump in her throat.

ii.

Someone knocked on the door. Aoi heard it at the same second Naho walked past, her arms full of blankets. “Someone’s at the door.”

‘Yeah.” Naho nodded.

Aoi rested her hands on her hips. Standing on a stool, she felt marginally tall, though she just made Naho’s height now. Everyone had to grow taller but her. “Is someone going to get it?”

“How?” Nahro gestured at the blankets with her head.

“And the others…” Aoi trailed off, her cheeks puffing slightly. If they hadn’t responded to the door by now, they were either too busy or didn’t hear it, and it’d take longer for her to find them than it would to just open the door herself. Hopping off the stool, she grumbled, “Fine, fine, I got it.”

With Sanemi, Nezuko, and Uzui already in the house, it wasn’t too hard to guess who it was. There were only three people left, after all. Yanking the door open, Aoi wasn’t surprised to find a stoic Giyu on the other side, several white lilies in his hand. “Sorry about the wait.”

As usual, his countenance was as tranquil as a still lake, his mood impossible to read. Was he irritated she’d taken so long? Did he not care at all? She had known him for several years now and was no closer to the answer than she’d been when they’d first met.

“It’s okay,” he answered politely. His expression didn’t change.

After a few minutes, when it was clear he wasn’t going to move, Aoi stepped back and gestured. “You can come in, you know.”

Giyu looked at her, then at the entrance. Hesitantly, he stepped inside, as though he wasn’t certain if he could come. It had been months since she’d last seen him and she’d forgotten how annoying he could be. Even now, as he pulled off his shoes and placed them, they were a whole space away from the others.

“You can put them right next to the others, you know.” When he didn’t move them, Aoi sighed and nudged them closer to the others. Things would get messy enough when Inosuke arrived; she didn’t need more to clean up. Turning around, she led the way to the kitchen now. “The incense sticks are too high for me to grab. Could you help me with those?”

“Yes,” he replied, another monosyllabic response.

“We’ll visit Shinobu after lunch.” Aoi was proud she made it through that entire sentence without wanting to cry. “We just need to finish cleaning up. You can help.”

From the corner of her eyes, she watched him nod silently. Aoi had the urge to apologize—it was insane, that she was giving a pillar an order. But with no demons, there were no pillars, and the people she’d idolized were now just ordinary citizens like her. The thought wasn’t as comforting as she’d hoped. Part of her still expected demons every night, that Shinobu would stumble through the door in the middle of the night, tired and bloody.

Maybe she’d never shake of this feeling of unease whenever the sun set. Forcing herself out of her thoughts, she added, “I think it’s just moping…”

Giyu wasn’t beside her anymore. She spun on her heel. “Giyu?”

Three doors down, he stood at the entrance to Shinobu’s workroom. When he didn’t reply, she quietly approached him. “Is something wrong?”

Still, he kept quiet. Aoi followed his gaze into the room. The blinds were pulled back, letting sunlight in. Shinobu used to keep them drawn, preferring utter darkness for her experiments. Despite her strict organization of her samples, her books had always been scattered around haphazardly, an accident waiting to happen.

“It’s all gone,” Giyu murmured.

“Yeah…” Aoi rubbed her arms awkwardly. She had scrubbed the room clean of Shinobu’s presence, shelved the books, tossed the samples. It was a simple office now.

“She’s gone.” His voice was soft, almost too soft to hear. Despite his teary eyes, Giyu didn’t break down, just stared into the room with the same emotion she had when she’d finally forced herself to clean it.

Resignation. Acceptance. Aoi had always thought of him as a doll, but that hadn’t been fair. Despite how Shinobu ragged on him, she’d often drag him into her workroom. The candles would flicker well into the morning, the two of them quietly sharing a drink as they watched the moon. Whenever Giyu would visit, his shoes used to be on the far end, neatly tucked next to Shinobu’s.

Her throat burned, remembering the sight of Shinobu’s shoes next to his. She’d almost forgotten what they’d look like, what that space used to be for. Reaching down, Aoi grabbed his hand. His skin was warm. “She is.”

Aoi hoped Shinobu had done this once too, reached out and clasped his hand. That she had done something for herself before she died. That Giyu would remember this long after Aoi had forgotten what Shinobu sounded or felt like.

Maybe some part of Shinobu could linger, long after her presence disappeared from the house.

iii.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Got it,” Aoi yelled automatically, used to the drill by now. She yanked open the door. “Everyone’s here already, Shinobu—”

There was no one at the door. Of course, there wasn’t, because Shinobu was dead, because this was Shinobu’s one year anniversary and Aoi should have remembered that by now. It was irrational, really, the way she kept doing that, the way she kept expecting Shinobu whenever candlelight crept out of a room in the middle of the night.

It had been a year. Only a year. As long as a year. It hurt and Aoi thought she knew how it felt to miss someone. She’d forgotten how much it hurt at first, how dull that pain could get. Behind her, she could hear Tanjirou’s laugh, Sanemi’s angry growl, Giyu’s confused squawk. It wouldn’t be long before she lost them too, before she had to go through this all over again.

Death was the constant companion of demon hunters. She didn’t know how she’d forgotten that.

As she stared blankly out onto the dirt pathway, a bright purple butterfly lazily floated by. Shinobu, she thought irrationally. It made no sense. That was a butterfly. Shinobu was happy in the afterlife. Yet Aoi couldn’t stop herself from chasing after it. Its wings looked like Shinobu’s cloak, delicate and ethereal.

What would she do if she caught it? If she didn’t catch it? I miss you, I’m sorry, and are you happy ran through her head in a loop.

Yet the butterfly stayed out of reach, away from her questions. As she ran around the corner, she almost ran into Inosuke as he charged past her.

“I made it first,” he roared, heading straight for the door.

“S-sorry…we’re…late…” Zenitsu panted and she turned back to find him standing in front of her, winded and half-collapsed. He smiled.

“I-it’s fine.” Aoi glanced around but the butterfly was gone.

“W-we got flowers,” Zenitsu gasped, holding out a hand before realizing it was empty. “A-and we dropped them…” He glared over her shoulder at the long-gone Inosuke. “Because someone had to have a race.”

It was utterly like them and Aoi laughed. God, it felt good to let it all out, to just feel without remembering anything else. Maybe this was what she’d needed all this time. As usual, Aoi had been over thinking things.

Her present could be shattered in a blink of an eye. Most of her friends wouldn’t make it past five more years. But she’d lived through loss before, and she’d learned the most important lesson: there was an after.

There was no need to dwell on the past, to chase after ghosts. Better to just embrace what she had, for as long as she could, and prepare herself for the future.

Aoi could almost hear Shinobu’s approving hum.

Shaking herself out of it, Aoi offered Zenitsu an arm. “Come on, let’s get going. There’s plenty of work left.”

[sockablock]

The fires dance and shimmer over Vo, but only on the beaches, and not with any fear.

Instead, there is laughter singing through the trees. There is singing, too, warm and bright, the sound of two dozen amateur dancers cheering in the moonlight. 

Somewhere, Yasha is helping a hunter cut logs for the blaze. Somewhere, Jester is telling stories to children about an unknown world. Somewhere, Beau is criticizing a cask of island-wine, and getting very drunk. Somewhere, Veth and Caleb are helping a very old woman fix a watch. 

Fjord straightens up and sticks his poker into the sand, watching the embers go out with a little hiss. He stretches, loosening his neck and wincing when his bruises argue back. He’d gotten thrashed around Vokodo’s cavern pretty hard at the end, there, but most of the firebloom burns are gone now, and between two clerics and a vengeful druid, he doesn’t have much to complain about.

He glances around the beach and can smell the first sizzle of cooking meat. Something fruity hovers past, and he can hear Beau’s singing growing louder.

And then, he notices something else, in the corner of his vision. Past the celebration, farther down the shore, sitting on the sand with his knees against his chest—

It’s Caduceus. His outline is purple in the twilight.

Fjord considers the fire. The music, and then he leaves the poker to finish smoldering by itself. 

By the time he’s nearly reached Caduceus, the merriment of the bonfire is barely a hum amid the turning tides. Light carries farther, though, and here it reflects an orange sea across the starry waves. It would be beautiful, it is beautiful, although it reminds Fjord a little too much of their last fight. He ignores it, instead focusing on the seated shape in front of him.

“Caduceus, you’re going to miss the food at this rate."

There is no immediate answer. Fjord stops, and raises his brow. 

"Caduceus? Oh, shit, is this a vegetarian thing? We should’ve said something earli...er...”

In this light, his friend is mostly shadow, but for a second it almost looks as if Caduceus raises an arm, wipes his face...

Fjord stops. He dares himself to have seen it wrong, and blinks.

"...Caduceus?!” This time, he is shouting. “Cad, is...everything alright?!”

It could be the waves, but for a second, a sniffle, and then—

“Oh, Mister Fjord, I didn’t hear you c—”

“Are you crying?”

Fjord clears the distance in a second, scattering sand everywhere. A part of him instantly curses the decision, why in the world would you rush at him—but another part, the honest part, the deeply confused part, is too worried to do anything else.

But Caduceus...laughs. It’s more stilted than it should be, though then again, Cad’s always been a weird one, in a special way—

Until Fjord sees the tears. There are two streaks of dampness matting Cad’s fur.

“Oh,” he says, before he can stop himself. 

There is a flash in Caduceus’s eyes. It is so small, so brief, so hidden away, that if Fjord had not been staring at him, he would have missed it entirely.

It’s panic. Caduceus says, “No, don’t mind me, Mister Fjord, I think I might’ve gotten carried away.”

Fjord’s mouth opens. It closes. It opens again.

“Carried away?”

“Just a bit.”

Fjord manages to stop gawking on the third try. He drops down, wincing a little at the sharp movement but ending in a determined, eye-level squat.

“Carried away,” he repeats.

Caduceus does not meet his gaze. His voice, when it finally does comes, is more unsteady than Fjord has ever heard.

“I, ah, I think...today was just a lot. It was...there was a lot.”

“Yes, well...yeah,” Fjord says, and tries to shuffle his back into Cad’s face. More sand kicks up around his ankles. “We did fight a fake fire god and nearly set off a volcano. Then again, that sort of thing feels somewhat standard for us.”

Caduceus coughs, and only after a second does Fjord realize it’s a laugh. 

“We, we do certainly get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Right,” says Fjord, still slightly mystified. He glances around the beach, sees Caduceus still avoiding him, hears the raucous melody of cheering far behind.

He looks up. He looks down. Then:

“...can I sit?”

There’s a vague gesture in response. Fjord accepts this as an answer.

The sand is cool. The wind sweeps across his hair.

“I’m...not very...I think I might have a reputation for being somewhat unobservant,” he says, after a pause. “Sometimes. But...I don’t think I’m a fool, Caduceus. Though even a fool could see that you’re upset.”

“I’m n—”

“I’m not done.” He looks up. Far, far above them, the stars glimmer bright. “I think...I think...that although I wasn’t there to see it initially, I believe that ever since you came to join our little troupe, your presence has been very good for us. I worry that...maybe, we haven’t returned the favor.”

“Favor?” Caduceus chuckles. “There’s no favor to return.”

There is a weight to Fjord’s silence.

“Hm. I wonder about that.”

Caduceus feels his brow furrow. He tries to stop it, but it does.

“Mister Fjord,” he says softly, “I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Right,” Fjord nods. “In that case...it’s a failing on our part.”

The waves ebb and flow on the shore. They are far away enough not to fear getting wet, but close enough still to taste the salt breeze.

“Why are you upset?” Fjord murmurs. “Is it...was it the fight? Are you hurt, or—”

“Oh, no. Not me.”

He glances over.

“Then...?”

Caduceus stares at the ground. His boots are off, and little grains of sand cling to his armor.

“Do you...ever feel...frustrated, Fjord?”

“Hah! Is that really your question?”

When the pause carries on, Fjord clears his throat.

“Er...yes, Caduceus. I do.”

“What about guilty? Very guilty.”

“Uh...sure, I think so. Maybe not...I’m not so sure to what degree you’re talking, here, but I’ve definitely had regrets.”

“And...what about feeling like you’re a burden?”

Fjord leans back on his palms. “Caduceus, are we just going down the list of how I go about my day?”

“No,” and when Caduceus chuckles, Fjord can see a little gleam of moonlight against his fur. “I’m, ah, I’m going down mine.”

“Oh.”

“It’s...it was bad on this island. It was...I felt those things...a lot. And, well,” he gives another laugh, “well, it sort of came to a head down in that tunnel.”

Fjord considers this.

“The...”

“The underwater one,” Caduceus says. “When the...the fireblooms opened all around us and I...lost to Vokodo.”

Fjord blinks. “You mean...oh, well...plenty of us had fallen to him at that point, didn’t we? I mean, Yasha forgot the name of her wife and Jester lost her beard oil, er, my beard oil, and I forgot Vandren, and...” 

He trails off, when he sees Cad look up.

“Right,” says Caduceus, “I forgot things too. But...I did something worse. I hurt you.”

Fjord hesitates. “You...didn’t really—”

“I did,” says Caduceus. “I fought against you. I blinded you. And you spent all your spells on me, and when the fight started, you couldn’t defend yourself, and got even more injured.”

“Well,” says Fjord, with as much certainty as he can muster, “I don’t know if...three spells would’ve really changed much.” Then he pauses again, and adds, “Not, uh, not that the gifts of the Wildmother are anything to scoff at. You know.”

Behind them, smoke pours up into the sky. They can’t smell it from here, but the feast is beginning, all joining in together to celebrate, save for two.

“They aren’t,” Caduceus says slowly, “but...do you want to know something, Fjord?”

“Er...of course.”

He also leans back. Also takes a second to breathe deep by the sea.

“In that moment, when I...fell to Vokodo. It was...exhilarating. It...it felt...it felt like...well,” he murmurs a laugh. “It felt like, for a second I had a purpose again.”

Foam dissolves into the sand. Far, far away, a hermit crab surfaces.

“A...purpose?”

“A mission. A goal, a journey, a...a divine reassurance that I was on the right path. It’s something that I...haven’t had since I saw my family.”

“You...wait, really? Why?”

“Well,” Caduceus gives a shrug. “Well, I suppose it’s because I did fulfill that purpose. We got the green glass. We visited the Dusts, and then the Stones, and my family went home to save the Grove. That was all I dreamed about, all that I knew I had to accomplish for...for decades. And we...did it. I did it. And now...it’s over.”

He takes a deep breath.

“And now...I’m just here. I have faith that she’s guiding me to where I need to go, but...where? Why? And...sometimes, even that is...even that feels...”

Fjord turns, and sees Caduceus staring at him. His hair is a tangle tripping down his back. His eyes are hesitant, shining in the moonlight.

“Sometimes...when I am with you all,” he says quietly, “sometimes I just feel...free.”

The waves come and go. The tiny hermit crab faces down an endless, churning, ever-flowing sea.

“She likes freedom, doesn’t she?” Fjord murmurs. “Isn’t that...I mean...that’s what she’s meant to me.”

Caduceus smiles. It’s a half-risen thing. “She meant duty to the Clays. A legacy to fulfill. A home to tend to, a garden to grow, people and family to take care of.”

Fjord meets his gaze. “Is that what you want?”

Caduceus doesn’t answer right away. When he does:

“...I don’t know anymore. Sometimes...I think I want to tend to our friends. Take care of them. Help you all grow to where you can be.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.”

They are quiet for a moment. Then:

“What about other times?” Fjord murmurs. “What about then?”

Caduceus glances up. He takes in the thousands of stars above him, watches a thousand lights fade and glow.

“It can be scary to not have a purpose.”

“I managed. I managed for...oof, maybe thirty years?”

“Did you like it?” 

Fjord shrugs. “I didn’t know anything else. Then, for a while, I thought my purpose was to fill a role. Be a captain. Become powerful. But...I didn’t much like that.”

“No,” Caduceus chuckles. “I didn’t think you did.”

“In a way, though,” Fjord sighs, “I mean...I don’t really know if I have a purpose either. Most of the time...I’m just here. I’m just...doing my thing. As a member of the Mighty Nein. I’m helping our friends as much as I can, and I’m getting to see the world. And learn new things. And...in doing so, I...well, I think maybe I’ve been more free than I ever had been. Maybe that’s a purpose. Even if it doesn’t feel like, I dunno, divine providence, or whatever, I’m...I’m still happy doing it. I love our friends. I think that’s enough.”

“Yes,” Caduceus says quietly. “I...I’m happy with them too.”

“Well, there you go, then!” Fjord taps him on the arm. “Maybe that’s all you really need. And I’m sorry it doesn’t feel...feel like a godly mission, but it still should be worth hanging onto, no?”

When he glances back, Caduceus is still looking at him.

“Right,” he echoes. “I think it is.”

Maybe it’s the beach, or the heat from the bonfire, but Fjord can feel his face getting a little warm. He coughs.

“I hope, er, that helped. I don’t know if that’s...good advice, to turn other people into your purpose. Because now that I think about it, it does still sort of sound like that whole garden-tending thing, which is a little contradictory—”

“Fjord?”

“Um, yes?”

“It helped.”

“Oh, good.”

“Fjord?”

“...um. Yes?”

Caduceus’s eyes are turned to the sky.

“I want to be free, too. But...I would like to be free with everyone else. And with you.”

Fjord coughs again. Though it isn’t as sharp. And the warmness is nice.

“I’d like that too.”

They sit there on the beach for a while after that. Later, perhaps, their friends will realize that they are missing, and come calling for them. Later, perhaps, there will be food to share and island-wine to drink and songs to sing. Later, they will sleep in huts beneath the stars and even after that, much, much later, perhaps there will even be a new path, a new journey, a new mission to follow and a new purpose to chase.

But all that will happen later. For now, all there is, is the sound of the waves, the brush of wind, and freedom, together.

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[brooklynislandgirl]

Commitment.

“Let’s go get some coffee.”

Stephen knew the phrase would carry a certain tone to it, no matter the business-like clip he offered in the modulation of his voice. Whatever it might sound like, the words were an invitation – though for Beth, they probably sounded closer to a command, and by now, he knows she won’t refuse him anything he either asks or commands.

And, maybe that’s why he thinks the sit-down is necessary.

He knows better than to offer to pay for her order. The Riley fortune dwarfs his own, and the Stranges have long enjoyed very deep pockets. And at any rate, there can’t be even the slightest hint of impropriety. He lets her buy her own and he purchases his own in turn… despite all the times she’s slyly obtained his order. Or his dry-cleaning. Or gotten her hands on his schedule and shifted items around to better accommodate his notion of feng shui. Everything she’s done for him… it’s put questions into his head.

And so as she sits down across from him, nursing her cup between her cool hands, staring intently at his lips as he takes a sip from his beverage – delectable as ever, her friend really knows her stuff – he tilts his head to one side and regards her with an expression of curiosity. “So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for a bit.”

He places one palm flat on the table beside his drink. “From the moment you walked into that lecture hall, you’ve been striving to show me the absolute best side of yourself. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you worked your ass off to outperform everyone else. You did, by a mile. Two miles. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have taken you on, and I think we both know that.” He hesitates. “But. You haven’t slowed your roll. You have all the stresses and responsibilities of your residency to consider, and… you’re still running on all cylinders to do, frankly, the kind of things I’d normally hire a secretary or personal assistant for.”

He shifts the tilt of his head, and peers into her face more earnestly. “You must know by now it’s not possible for you to impress me any more than you already have. I know the level of quality you bring is top-notch. But I have to say, I’m worried about you burning yourself out. This is a hard life to live, and I need to know you’re taking care of yourself with the same degree of quality and care you devote to everyone else. And me.”

He hesitates for a beat, checking her expression for a reaction; he’s not surprised to see her becoming progressively more doe-eyed with each passing second. If they widen any further, she’ll spontaneously turn into an anime character.

“Beth, let’s set aside the pressures of family and prestige for a second, because we both know what it is to have that hanging over our heads. Nobody ever asked me this question when I needed to hear it… so let me ask you now – is this the life you want to lead?”

His voice breaks the quiet. And if she wasn’t used to the often long lulls of silence it might have startled her enough to break her stride. Instead, she looks up from the screen. Trades it for a cursory sweep of his features even if she continues to touch-type this particular transcription of his. If he were anyone else she would have waved off the invitation. Said something to the effect that she appreciates the offer but that she has her water with her, that she’ll get something later. She wouldn’t really, there’d be no time because she’d simply get caught up in some other banal routine task. Not that there were really many who would. She’d been less adept at making friends as a first year than she had back in high school where she was at least two or more years younger than her peers, and just as focused as she was now.

She looks back down and finishes the note, before saving it. Only then does she notice her stomach is already tightening.

“Yes, sir.”

And continues to do so when she buckles herself into the passenger seat of his car. She doesn’t talk or even really glance at him in profile the entire way south. And it amazes her that despite there being so many closer places that they could stop at, he chooses to go to the Village, and Jay’s shop. Every time before now she’d been both proud for her hanai sister and impressed that he would do that for her, which was the only reasonable explanation beyond Jay’s exquisite coffee and pastries. This time though? She can’t quite shake the foreboding sensation creeping up the back of her neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end.

All of it made worse when they find a secluded corner and avail themselves in the sensation of privacy. He isn’t loud, his voice isn’t projecting as it would in the lecture hall, nor does it have the almost bored quality she’s used to during rounds. She focuses on his lips. An old habit but the thinnest veneer of pleasure watching him speak isn’t there, and the knot in her middle has only grown larger still. It threatens to overtake her chest, spread roots down in her lower viscera. Only the iron resolve she’d earned the hard way keeps her hands from shaking as she keeps a deathgrip on her environmentally friendly cup, her lips from narrowing to a grim line.

A two second glance is spared his hand before she’s right back up to his face. However she doesn’t bask in his praise. The sun is not rivalled by the glow such plainly spoken compliments might have sparked in her.

“Yes, sir. Mahalo.”

Three whole words is all he gets between the rise and fall of her throat from a heavy swallow. She hasn’t touched the cup to her lips.

Because there it is. She knew it before he’d even sat down.

But.

He’s noticed and all in the wrong ways.

She wakes up at a quarter to four in the morning. Maybe earlier if there’s weather or the traffic is going to be unusually heavy. She has to be at the hospital by four-thirty to print off The List. The one with each patient on the service and key details of their surgery and hospitalisation. She knows she has only one hour to go through each patient chart, write down morning labs, check for results of any imaging that was expected, check for notes from consults or nurses, check in with the night float, and have his coffee ready, his coat hung, and copies made for the rest of the residents. They’d arrive an hour after she did, although sometimes she’d have some stroke of luck and a second year resident might show up to help. She doesn’t count on this, as she’s had it drilled into her that ‘early is on-time, Elizabeth, and on-time is late.’

Stephen’s rounds begin exactly at seven a.m. and not a second later.

His eyes bore holes right through her and find the root of her soul. She’s done something horribly wrong. He can see some flaw so deep and so intrinsic that it cannot be counterbalanced by anything else she might do to prove herself. No matter how amazingly efficient she is, no matter how many orders she puts in, drains she pulls, shunts she taps, or triaging of incoming calls from the nurses… he sees something wanting in her. Even if she is the person he tends to choose on the afternoon start case.

It isn’t that she’s seeing her life flash before her eyes. It’s that she can hear it roaring past her, screaming loudly in the blood rushing in her ears. It sounds like the endless sussrus of the sea, except that it offers her no comfort, no sense of tranquility to stand on. All a prelude to him dismissing her. Handing her off to someone else. Maybe Doctor West. Maybe back to the Admiral himself. There’s a twinge in her chest, and only a lifetime of practiced neutrality keeps that pain from making itself visible.

She nods, slowly. Her face is expressionless. Pale, perhaps, but maybe that can be passed off as new foundation, or lack of spending time outside touching grass for the last six months. The only proof of life Stephen has is just how her eyes keep reaching for some imagined horizon up in her hair as they stare back.

It is only when his question lingers that her unnatural stillness breaks. Elbows tuck themselves inward toward her ribs and she vaguely hunches forward, hands in front of her chest where the shallowness of breaths can be seen. Wrists pointed inward, hands pressed together with fingers curled, she clicks her thumbnails together as she hunkers down slightly, almost as if she can hide behind her now abandoned coffee on the tabletop.

She would love to set her family aside. Everyone who knows her knows the influence the Admiral has over her. How she and Andy were always used as pawns between him and their Auntie. She would like, however briefly, to set down every ounce of her that drowns without the safe harbour her brother provided. To spend one day without the cloying feeling of being empty, incomplete. To not know what it is like having to scour the internet for news about her own mother, and always ending up nursing a new wound when what she sees is the woman and her new children.

Prestige is a different animal altogether. If she has any, it is on loan. It’s that his glory, which she falls short of, lands on her shoulders for even the briefest of moments.

“Would you? Give it all up, dat is? What would you do instead?”

It’s so much easier to turn the question around. To put it up like a wall or a shield. To allow him to subsume her. Makes it easier to try and contain the mounting feeling of rejection, inadequence. To keep her voice low, steady, texturally neutral.

Beth refuses to meet Stephen’s gaze.

“All my life…well, mos’ of it anyway, I knew I wan make da world a mo'beddah place.” She opens her hands, holds them up, stares at her palms as she flexes her fingers. “I knew I was meant f’ heal da hurt. Soothe spirit. S'true, da Admiral steer me toward neurosurgery. He would have accept cardiology as an’ alternative. Andy…Andy would have come home one war hero. Gone into politics. Senator by t'irty-five. President between forty to forty five. Like Kennedy. Except he’d be takin’ da Admiral’s place, and I’d be a standin’ firs’ lady to bot’ of dem.”

She makes a sound, but it’s too quiet to make out.

“If I evah stan’ in da shadow of a great man, I choose you. S'all I evah want after startin’ ya class. Everyt'ing I work for, is t’ say mahalo for ya faith in me, your time an’ effort, teachin’ me so much. Every part of me believes we can make a difference. Dat we can stan’ on da t'reshold of life an’ death an’ say 'no’. So… if I have offend you in some way, if I have not pulled my weight, if I've…”

Bargaining.

“I’ll do beddah. I’ll work harder. But don'…. don’ give up on me.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Can’t Lose You

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Summary: Y/N, a servant in the palace, and Zuko, the prince of the Fire Nation, never should have been allowed to be friends growing up but after three years, things have changed for the both of them. 

Warnings: Descriptions of burns/ injuries (the scene where Ozai burns Zuko)

Word Count: 7300 (it’s a long one y’all)

A/N: I know that they never once mention cards in A:TLA but I had a hard time figuring out how to do the scene with Azula with something like Pai Sho pieces. 

Part 2 out now! Can’t Get Rid Of Me

________________________________

It was a beautiful day on Ember Island, with the sun shining brightly, the waves crashing in beautiful roars, and the lizard-birds cawing overhead. The sun warmed your skin as you carried your basket full of blown glass beaded jewelry into the marketplace, small glass orbs of every color swishing around like liquid almost in the woven basket. The normal crowd bustled around you in three categories: 1) The Rich Kids: These were the teenagers whose parents were generals or socialites in the Fire Nation military. They were either here on vacation or enjoyed living in an exotic place. Their lives revolved around partying, shopping, and drinking. 2) The Merchants and Artisans: Another set of locals, just much less affluent than the former group. These were the people who lived on Ember Island full time and were the only reason things ran. They provided services from cooking to clothing to furniture. 3) The Tourists: These were the citizens from the mainland that came to Ember Island to take in the sights and relax. You were a part of the second of these categories. 

Creating glass beads was never something you saw yourself doing. Especially not several years ago. Artisanal work was something that seemed so far out of anything you could do. See, you’d grown up in the palace… sort of. Your parents had been servants in the palace prior to your birth which led you to a life of servitude yourself. 

It was a miserable life no matter how much your parents insisted it was better than living in one of the poorer villages outside of the palace, where people were treated like they were from other nations. Every day from the age of eleven, you’d been bossed around by anyone who had a title. “Get me water!” “Get me food!” “Wash my clothes!” “Make my bed!” You were nothing. Most of the time, they didn’t even use your name. Most of them didn’t even know your name. But that wasn’t even the worst of it because there was always Azula. 

**

The sun shone brightly in the little courtyard full of flowers and the little pond with turtle ducks that you and Zuko loved to play with. Zuko had been your best friend since his mother had allowed you to play with the royal children. Both of your parents were servants in the palace and, in the early years of your life, you were too young to work around the castle when you weren't in school. When Ursa found out, she insisted that you play with Zuko, Azusa, Mai, and Ty Lee, despite Ozai's insistence that his children should not associate with people below them. It was the one debate that Ursa ever seemed to win.  

Despite her victory though, it didn't mean that your 'play dates' were much fun. At first, you gravitated towards Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai, as they were the girls and who Ursa first introduced you to with the assumption you guys would be friends. While Mai and Ty Lee both loved you and treated you well, Azula took after her father and treated you like scum. She'd feign niceties and then turn on you and do horrible things. She treated Zuko very similarly so the two of you bonded over your mutual dislike of his sister. 

The two of you became best friends and did everything together. You ran around the halls of the palace but always made sure to hide away from Ozai, fearing he'd do something to you or your parents if he found you with his son. Although nothing was outright romantic between the two of you, Ursa saw the little sparks between you two when she was with you. She noticed the way your guys' little cheeks would burn red if your hands accidentally touched or saw the way your gazes would linger a little longer on each other when the other looked away. Unlike her husband, she had no problem with your little unspoken crushes. Thankfully, Ozai was never involved in his children's personal lives much anyways so he didn't notice but it wasn't long until Azula caught on. 

She would corner you and pretend to want to have "girl talk" about boys and crushes. It was never long until she brought up her brother. "I know you like Zuko. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I think it's cute that you think you have a chance. But you know he's a prince right? And even though you get to play royals with us, he could never marry someone of such low class." Even at ten years old, her words stung. You'd always had little fantasies that maybe he'd sweep you away from your predestined life of servitude one day. He didn't even have to sweep you away to a life of royalty, you just wanted him to sweep you away to anywhere. But maybe Azula was right. Zuko was royalty and you were far from it. 

So your friendship continued for the next several years until his banishment. In secret, he taught you firebending from a young age. As a servant, it didn't matter much if you were a firebender, you didn't get training because your parents neither had the money or the time nor were either benders. He taught you the basic moves and, though he wasn't as skilled as his sister, you were greatly appreciative of his teaching and actually knew almost as much as he did.

One day, just days after your eleventh birthday, you and Zuko sat at the edge of the pond, trying to oure turtle ducklings to you with pieces of bread. "I've almost got him!" Zuko whispered excitedly, the baby duck only two or three feet away. 

You couldn't wait to pet him! They were so soft when they were ducklings! 

"Hey, Y/N! Come here!" Azula called from across the grass field. You stood up and looked cautiously at her, already distrusting all of her motives. 

"Why?" You asked skeptically. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, "My mother may let you play with us but I am still a princess and you obey me! Besides, it's just a card trick." Azula's personality switched quickly, which scared you as a young child, but after a quick look of fear to Zuko, you walked over. 

Mai and Ty Lee stood back, both watching as you came over to their group and leaned down to look at the cards Azula lied on the rock. "What's the trick?" You asked, hoping she really did just have a magic trick. 

She sprawled them out, "Pick one and look at it but don't show me. You can show them though." She waved her hand to her other friends as if they didn't actually matter. Without much thought, you picked one that was buried slightly and looked at it. 8 of diamonds. 

"Now put it anywhere in the deck." You did as she instructed and handed her back the deck. She closed her eyes tightly and threw all the cards up in the air before swinging her arms in controlled movements, ropes of fire coming from her hands. One rope singed a single card from midair while the other wrapped around your calves, sending a searing hot white flash of pain through your body. 

"Y/N!" Zuko yelled when he saw the flames wrap their way up your legs and he ran towards you. You crumpled to the ground, tears falling freely as you cried in pain. Mai and Ty Lee gasped at what their friend had just done but didn't say anything out of pure terror of what she'd do if they did. 

Azula reached down and picked up the single singed card, a hole burnt straight through it. She inspected the card, "Eight of diamonds. Was this your card?" She asked as if you weren't on the ground, sobbing in pain with blisters forming up your legs from something she'd done. 

"Mom!" Zuko called out as he sat there beside your crying form, unsure of what to do or say, anger flaming up within him.

"Oh calm down, Zuzu," Azula rolled her eyes, "Your girlfriend is fine. It's a second-degree burn at most." 

"She's not my girlfriend!" Zuko hissed, throwing a fireball at his sister that she easily dodged, "You're a monster!" 

Ursa came running out quickly at her son's plea for help, "What on earth is going on here?!" She crouched next to you and could see the skin on your legs already boiling up from between the seared tears in your pants, "Azula, what have you done!?" Ursa was furious as she picked you up. 

Azula scoffed, "We were only playing, mother. It was an accident." 

"No it wasn't! Azula hurt her on purpose!" Zuko defended you, jumping up to stand beside his mother. 

Ursa looked at Ty Lee and Mai who looked terrified and didn't even make a move but the look in their eyes confirmed what Zuko said. Ursa held you close to her body before gripping her daughter's wrist roughly, "You have no idea how much trouble you're in." 

And she did. Azula had never gotten in so much trouble in her life, though, of course it did nothing but fuel her hatred for her mother and you and make her side further with her father She blamed you entirely and had harbored resentment against you for having the nerve to return the next day (something you did only because Zuko had begged you to since he wasn't allowed at your house.) Since that day, you never feared her again. You hated her. You didn't think it was possible to hold so much resentment for some as you did for her but you swore one day you'd get your shot to firebend her ass into a pile of ashes without receiving capital punishment, the only thing that kept you even remotely professional over the years. 

**

You shuttered at the thought. The scars that crawled up your calves like vines tingled whenever you thought about that day. It was far from the last time that Azula was ever mean to you but it was the worst thing she’d ever done to you physically. Mentally, well that was another story. 

That was why you’d run away to Ember Island. Even though you too were a fire bender, you could never retaliate against Azula, who took a sick pleasure in torturing you. At one point, you thought it would be worth the inevitable death or imprisonment that was sure to come with retaliation but when you got close, so close that Azula could sense that you were about to fire at her, she brought up your parents, and what she could do to them. It was enough to make you stop that day but it was that night that you left the castle, leaving only a note for your parents to briefly explain before disappearing. With the impending war and attacks, Ember Island seemed like a good enough place to set up. It was far enough away from Azula to be safe but vacationing didn’t seem high on anyone’s priorities list. 

So this was your new life and you loved it. 

The trip to the market was a quick one. You only had to drop off the beads to the artisans who made jewelry from them- you were only the bead maker. The rest of the day was open for you. As you walked back, you came to a split in the road. One, you knew led directly back to the house you were staying at. The other, you couldn’t recall having ever taken in all your time here.

“Let’s see what’s down here.” You hummed to yourself, looking for a little something to change up your routine. This was what you loved about no longer being a maid in the palace. Freedom. Freedom to go where you want, when you want, with who you want, to do whatever you want. The road itself was dirt with the occasional rocks around. It was lined with the large tropical plants found all around the island. At first, there were scattered stores which began to mix with houses before becoming entirely residential. These houses were quite a bit nicer than the houses in the residential area you lived in. Fire Nation flags hung from many of them. “Generals?” You questioned aloud to nobody but yourself. 

Down the road just a bit further, maybe a quarter mile down, the dirt road became much less maintained but there was still a path. After a while of walking, you saw that it led up a small hill to a large house that seemed hidden away from almost the entire island. It was large and beautiful, with traditional architecture built up in red tiles. The walls were practically windows, which you figured would be fantastic considering the wonderful view of the ocean from here. 

The road dead ended into this one home so you knew you should turn around now but the curiosity was killing you. This house looked luxurious but abandoned. The windows, though not broken, were dusty and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. You couldn’t imagine anyone who owned such a magnificent vacation home allowing it to get so dirty unless it hadn't been used in a long time. 

Figuring you probably wouldn't get caught, you decided to check out the house and walked around the building. Heck, if it were abandoned, maybe you could even move in and fix it up. That wouldn’t count as stealing right? 

You wandered around the house until suddenly-

“Guys, someone’s coming!” A girl’s voice exclaimed from the side of the house that faced the beach. Your heart stopped and before you could even jump to hide in a bush, there were running footsteps coming towards you. Within seconds, a group of people about your age were staring at you. 

Your hands flew up in defense, “I am so sorry. I thought the house was abandoned and-” As you spoke, your eyes scanned across the faces until you noticed one in particular that made everything stop, “Z-zuko?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your best friend in the world, even after all this time, stood ahead of you, looking so different than you remembered but also exactly the same. His hair that you’d always known to be tied up to perfection and his royal clothing always neatly pressed, a desperate attempt to be as perfect as he could for his father, was now ragged and relaxed. His hair was down, grown long and dangling over his eyes in some spots. His clothing was that of commoners instead of royalty but you couldn’t help but notice the taut muscles and small scars that he’d acquired over the time of his exile. 

“Y/N? Is that really you?” Zuko’s eyes were wide with total shock and his skin paled as if he’d seen a ghost. He honestly never thought he’d see you again but there you stood, looking more beautiful than ever. He almost didn’t even recognize you. All throughout your childhoods, you’d always looked the same, day in and day out. Your hair was always down with the exception of the signature Fire Nation bun and you wore off-red servant’s garbs. But now, now you looked exquisite. Your hair was similar to how it was, still flowing down with the bun on top, save for the two small braids that framed your face. Instead of robes, you now wore a crimson crop top that crossed around your neck with an asymmetrical skirt of the same color over black capris. But the thing he noticed most of all was the gold arm band around your bicep that he’d given you for your birthday the year before he was banished. 

You nodded fervently and almost ran towards him but your knees nearly buckled when you collided. Thankfully, Zuko had his arms wrapped tightly around you, hugging you so tightly he lifted you to your toes anyways. You couldn’t help the overwhelming surge of emotions. Somewhere between relief and love and fear and confusion. When Zuko was banished, you were terrified you’d never see him again.

“How is this possible? Azula told me you were dead.” Zuko finally set you down and looked into your eyes. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What? No… I’m-” You struggled to figure out where to start, “After you were banished, I stayed for another two years but without yours or your mother’s defense, she just got worse and worse. One day, I just- I almost snapped. I could feel the warmth in my hands. I almost attacked her but she began to threaten my parents. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t beat her. I haven’t had a teacher since you left. I didn’t hurt her but I ran away that night. After a while of wandering, I ended up here. I don’t know why she told you I was dead but it sounds like something she would do.” 

Zuko looked away angrily, “She’s always been a monster to you. To both of us. When I went back to the palace, I asked about you and she told me that you’d gotten sick and died shortly after I left. She only said it because she knew I’d be devastated and I fell right into the trap.” 

A part of your heart twinged from the feeling of being loved. Even after all this time apart, in which you were scared he’d forget about you, he just admitted to being devastated when he’d thought you’d died. 

You were unsure of how to respond to the look on Zuko’s face, a strange mixture of anger and relief. Pure bitterness for Azula. After a brief moment, you reached out for him and pulled him in for another hug, again holding onto him like you’d never let him go again. The very thought of losing Zuko another time made your heart jump to your throat in the worst of ways. “I’m here now though. No matter her threats or lies, here we are.” 

“You know her?” A young bald boy with arrows on his head asked from back with the rest of the group. You’d forgotten there were more people there but when you looked back, you noticed the rest of the group. 

Zuko turned to face the group but kept his hand placed on the small of your back, keeping you close to him, “This is Y/N. She was my best friend back at the palace. Y/N, this is Suki, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Aang. Aang is the avatar.” 

The boy named Sokka looked suddenly distressed, “You’re just going to tell a friend from the Fire Nation palace that Aang’s the avatar?! What if she tries to kill him?” 

You shook your head at the accusation, your eyebrows raised in a desperate attempt to convince them that you were being truthful, “Oh no! I’ve never agreed with the Fire Nation’s goals! If you’re the avatar, you need to stop Ozai.” 

“I can vouch for her. Even when we were kids, she told me in secret that she didn’t believe that there was any superior element and that the Fire Nation shouldn’t be invading the other nations. Even when I did….” Zuko’s face fell with guilt for what his past self believed, “But I promise, if anyone from the Fire Nation would be on our side, it’s her.” 

Suki stepped forward, her face kind and curious, “You said you ran away from the palace? Are you royalty too?” 

You snorted and Zuko actually cracked a small humorous smile as well, “Oh no. A servant actually.” 

“A servant?” Katara questioned, “I don’t mean to be rude but if you’re a servant and Zuko was a prince, how were you friends?” 

Zuko stiffened up a little bit while you tried to hide the sadness you felt revolving around the circumstances, “My parents were the only royal servants to have a child. Zuko’s mother saw that I didn’t have any friends in the palace and allowed me to play with Zuko, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee.” The memories of Ursa were all fond. Aside from Zuko, she was the only member of the royal family who treated you with any kindness. When she disappeared, you and Zuko mourned your loss of her together, even though you never did find out the truth about what happened to her that night. 

“You were forced to play with Azula? That must have been traumatizing.” Toph chimed, genuine apology in her sarcastic tone. 

You shifted awkwardly from side to side, one hand shooting up to rub your opposite bicep as those scars that snaked up your calves seemed to burn with awareness, “Yeah, it kind of was.” Your voice was lower than it had been, as the incident had been somewhat of a sore spot for you. 

Katara followed Zuko’s inconspicuously downcast gaze to where your legs were visible beneath your tight black pants that you wore beneath your asymmetrical red skirt. She was automatically hit with a pang of guilt when she saw the ever so slightly raised red vine-like scars that trailed up your legs and disappeared beneath the pants and immediately had an idea of how you’d acquired them. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” You insisted sincerely, “Besides, they don’t bother me much anymore.” 

Eager to shift the topic, Aang jumped into the conversation, “Well I don’t know if you’ve got a home here or anything but you're welcome to stay with us.” He offered cheerily. Everyone else seemed in agreement, or at least didn't outright object, and how could you possibly say no to getting to spend time with Zuko again? 

"I'd love to. Thank you." 

Later that night, you and Zuko left the group by the campfire to disappear into the house. "So, this is the infamous summer house you'd always leave me for." You chuckled in remembrance, memories of having to watch your best friend disappear for weeks at a time while having to pretend you didn't care for the sake of keeping your friendship 'appropriate', especially after Ursa disappeared. 

"I always wanted to take you here. It's so much different now. Everything's different…" he trailed off, coming to a stop in the middle of a large, mostly empty room. The moonlight streaming from the windows cast a nostalgic shadow on the room and you couldn't help but remember the last time you saw each other. 

**

It was sickening. The entire arena was filled to the brim with people, mostly Fire Nation elite, all surrounding the main floor. Servants weren't supposed to be permitted but Iroh had snuck you in. Iron had taken you in as much as he could, seeing how important to Zuko you were. In a way, you too felt like he was your uncle. When you'd gone to him, begging him to stop the Agni Kai, he insisted that he'd tried to talk sense into his brother but was unsuccessful and that the most he could do to help was sneak you into the audience. 

So there you stood, surrounded by hundreds of animals who cheered for the murder of their thirteen year old prince by a well experienced war general, all because Zuko thought it wasn’t right to sacrifice hundreds of soldiers. “I’m not afraid to face the general,” Zuko had told you as he practiced his firebending with you all day before the Agni Kai, “I meant no disrespect, but I refuse to take back what I said. If this is what it takes, then this is what I’ll do.” 

When Zuko walked out into the open arena, the room went silent. Nobody would dare boo their prince but you were sure that if he were anyone else, they would have. He knelt down, facing away from where his opponent would take his place, staring at the ground. Your heart was in your throat with fear for your best friend. Although Zuko was your secret firebending teacher and much better than you, he had a tendency to crack under the gaze of people he was desperate to impress. The general he was supposed to fight was definitely not someone you’d imagine was one to take it easy on a kid, even if he was the prince. 

Zuko’s opponent came out in the shadows and shadowed his kneel, facing away from Zuko. When it was time, they both stood up and stepped towards each other. When they did, everyone gasped. Where the general was expected to be stood Ozai himself. An audible gasp and murmur ran through the crowd. 

“Oh no-” You stopped breathing entirely, “What’s happening?” Even from your obscured seat, you could see Zuko’s eyes widen in shock and panic. Confliction was written all over his face. 

The man beside you chuckled sadistically, “By speaking out in the Fire Lord’s war room, he has not only disrespected the general but the Fire Lord himself. This should be good.” You turned away from the man in utter disbelief that someone could say something like that about a literal child about to be harmed by his father. 

Ozai stepped forward, hands up and ready to deflect any attacks from his son but the way he moved showed that he didn’t expect his son to make any move. He was testing him and Zuko had failed to impress. Zuko fell onto his knees, shaking in fear. He hung his head low, “Please, father! I only had the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn.” 

“You will fight for your honor.” Ozai continued to step towards him, an unyielding expression on his face. 

“I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son.” Zuko begged, laying all of his dignity on the line in front of the nation’s most influential people. 

Ozai wanted no part of it, “Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.” 

Zuko’s forehead laid on the ground as Ozai came to stand above him, “I won’t fight you.” 

His father stood tall and loomed over his small child, “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.” 

When Zuko looked up, tears streamed down his cheeks, knowing that his father had no consideration of mercy. All you could hear were Zuko’s screams and the roar of flames leaving Ozai’s fist as you watched your friend be brutally burned. Your tears were unstoppable and unconsolable as you genuinely thought he killed Zuko. When the flames stopped, he was on the ground, holding his face and sobbing in pain. Ozai turned his back, something between pride for winning and embarrassment for the way his son reacted to the duel on his face. 

“The way you have behaved during this Agni Kai was more disgraceful than speaking out of turn. You have brought shame on yourself and the royal family. The punishment is banishment. Unless you can capture the Avatar, you are no longer welcome in the Fire Nation.” You gasped at what Ozai had said before he turned away and left, head straight and lips tight.

You began to run and push your way through the crowd, thanking goodness for your smaller stature compared to the adults all around. You had to find Zuko and make sure he was okay. You didn’t care if you’d get caught or in trouble, you just needed to find him. Being a servant had its perks in knowing the palace inside and out. It became obvious that nobody was going to help the prince until, while on your way through the halls, you ran into Iroh who too was looking to help the boy. 

Finally, you’d made your way to him and Iroh carried him to a washroom. You quickly ran over and retrieved a bowl of cool water while Iroh leaned him back. “Pour the water on the burn.” He instructed. 

“Close your eyes.” You told Zuko, although his eyes were already shut tight in pain. The cool water flowed from the bowl and onto his face, which looked red and blistered already. This was by far the worst burn you’d ever seen. Zuko struggled slightly against the liquid but stopped crying and calmed down when the water became soothing. 

Iroh had located bandages and began to bandage his nephew’s face. 

“I-I can’t believe what happened.” Zuko stuttered out, “He banished me.” You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him so pale. “Where do I go, Uncle? What do I do?” He began to work himself up again as the weight of the last hour really settled. 

Iroh turned to put down the gauze, “You must leave the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko,” He began and Zuko looked panicked again, “But I will go with you.” 

You both turned to Iroh, “Uncle, no! You’re whole life is here.” 

“The world is no place for a boy to wander alone. And there is not much here for me in the Fire Nation palace anyways.” You all knew he was referring to the rumors of him being the weaker brother, the disgraced general. “I will accompany you.” 

Zuko placed his hands on his knees and braced himself as he thought through the situation, “I must find the Avatar. It’s the only way to regain my honor.” 

Both you and Iroh looked apprehensive but you were much more vocal, “Zuko, what your father did you today was not what fathers are supposed to do. Someone behaved shamefully today but it was not you.” You insisted, heart aching for him. 

“I need his respect. My honor is the most important thing. I’m going to find the Avatar and when I do, my honor will be restored and I will regain my rightful spot as prince.” Zuko looked pained and troubled. It was clear he knew what he wanted to do but had no idea how he would do it, not that he’d let that stop him though. 

You got quiet, looking down at where his knuckles were turning white from the tight grip on his own knees. Gently, you placed your hand on his and waited for him to look up just enough for you to make eye contact, “I’m going with you then.” You said finally. 

Zuko’s uncovered amber eye met yours before he shook his head, “I can’t let you do that. Your parents are here.” 

“I hate it here.” You insisted desperately, “I’ll come back for them some day but I can’t leave you. You’re the only person that cares about me here.” 

Iroh placed his hand caringly on your shoulder, “Zuko is right, Y/N. This is his journey but I do not think it’s yours. It’s best if you stay.” 

“But… but…” The tears were threatening to spill over as you managed to choke out, “I can’t lose you.” 

There was barely a moment between when the words left your mouth and when Zuko’s lips met yours. At first, you were taken off guard and almost pulled back but when your brain registered what happened, you leaned into the innocent kiss. Your brain ran wild. Was this heat of the moment or had he really felt the same way you did? When he pulled away, you felt cold, “I’ll come back for you one day. I promise.” 

** 

“So, speaking of different, you sure look like a different Zuko than the one I knew. Last I heard around the palace, you were super intense and obsessive about finding the avatar.” You asked, teasing towards the end. 

Zuko inhaled awkwardly, his hand coming to rub behind his neck, “Yeah… I was. Until I realized that my father was a monster and that the Fire Nation had caused nothing but harm and destruction. It took a lot of convincing but they actually let me join them and become Aang’s firebending teacher.” He gestured back to the group who was all laughing, most likely at something Sokka said. 

“Well, he’s got the best teacher around.” You giggled, hitting his arm gently. 

Zuko turned to look at you, “What about you? Things look pretty different for you too.” 

A boulder sat just ahead of you, perfect for the two of you to use as a seat. You leaned back against the stone and Zuko did the same beside you. “Well, when I left the palace, I didn’t know where to go. But then I remembered you telling me about Ember Island and figured that it was far enough away to get me away from Azula but still in the Fire Nation so I wouldn’t have to create a whole new identity. When I got here, I saw an old lady struggling to make it to the market and asked if she needed help. Turns out she’d been making glass beads for years and needed an apprentice. After spending the day together, we ended up striking up a deal. She’d teach me how to make the beads in exchange for room and board. So this is where I’ve been for the last year.” 

Zuko sighed, “I really did mean to come back for you.” 

You exhaled heavily. It had been a sore point for you for a while. You waited for him for two years, over which Azula told you lies about him being killed or disappearing. It was just another fuel for her mental abuse. “I honestly was really angry about it for a long time. But-” 

“No, you had every right to be. But believe me when I tell you it was probably best that you didn’t come. Searching for the Avatar made me someone I didn’t recognize. I became a monster.” He looked away from you, most of the last three years worth of misdoings coming back to haunt him. 

You squeezed his hand, “I doubt you were as bad as you think you were and I’m sure Iroh would tell you the same. Where is Iroh anyways?” 

He sank even deeper, “Another one of my many mistakes.”

Your heart immediately dropped, “Is he…?

Zuko shook his head, “No, no. He’s alive. I’m just sure he hates me.” 

“Zuko, I don’t think you could do anything that would actually make your uncle genuinely hate you. That man holds so much love and respect for you.” Iroh’s love and devotion to Zuko was undeniable and you weren’t lying when you said that there was probably nothing that would make Iroh’s feelings change. 

“I hope you’re right.” Zuko looked off into the distance before looking back at you, “But for what it’s all worth, I’m really glad to see you again.” 

A smile blossomed on your face, “I’m really glad to see you too. I missed you so much.” Even after all the years, it felt as if no time had passed. He was still your Zuko. 

You hadn’t realized that the gap between your bodies had closed to just a mere inch or two until you found yourself leaning your head onto his shoulder without thinking about it. Zuko stiffened up a little bit at the contact, looking around paranoid. He knew logically that there was nothing saying you two couldn’t be friends - or more - anymore. But his gut reaction was to be on his guard, just like when you were children, trying to hide your frowned upon friendship. 

Zuko had always looked back fondly on those memories while he was banished and not one day went by when he didn’t think about you.

**

Iroh walked onto the deck of the large ship to see his nephew standing against the railing and staring into the distance over the ocean. It was like he had the sixth sense for his nephew, always able to see what was going on in his head better than Zuko did. Iroh approached the prince and stood just behind his shoulder, “You’re thinking about Y/N again?” He asked, though it really was more of a statement. 

Zuko looked back over his shoulder towards his uncle, “I just wish I knew she was okay. She’s stuck there with Azula and you already know what she’s done to her! But now I can’t protect her. I should have let her come so I’d know she’s safe.” He looked away angrily, hanging his head, upset with how he’d handled everything. 

“You care for her, Prince Zuko.” Iroh began before getting interrupted by the eager and emotional prince. 

“Of course, I care for her! She’s my best friend.” Zuko had never really had any other real friends. Sure, Mai and Ty Lee were cool when they weren’t around his sister but none of them were you. 

Iroh could see the conflict in the boy’s eyes, “But you care for her as more than that, don’t you?” 

Zuko’s eyes widened. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to him but hearing his secret feelings spoken aloud finally felt like it was actually real. With anyone else in the world, he would have denied it but Iroh was different. “We can never be together.” Zuko confessed, heartbroken all over again. This was why he didn’t admit it to himself. 

“Why’s that?” Iroh asked, as if the answer weren’t obvious like it was to you and Zuko. 

His face scrunched with distress, “Because I’m a prince and… well she’s not even the daughter of a general. I don’t care about her wealth or status but it’s not allowed.” 

“Well, lucky for you, for once, you’re banished. I don’t think anyone would care much if you were to be with her now.” Iroh pointed out. 

Zuko groaned, “I’m not even allowed into Fire Nation territory let alone the palace. I’d never be able to take her away like this. I need to find the Avatar, have my honor restored, and then I’ll find her again and I’ll never let her go.” 

“True love will find a way, Prince Zuko. Remember that happiness and love is more important in this world than titles.” 

** 

Now, you were beside him, your head unashamedly laying on his shoulder and was it his imagination or was your leg touching his now? Zuko cleared his throat, “Y’know, I can’t help but think about how we left things off three years ago,” You shifted to look up at him when he spoke. 

You knew he was talking about the kiss - that one forbidden kiss that had haunted your lips since he left. It had consumed many of your nights as well. “I think about it too. A lot.” You confessed, much less embarrassed than you ever would have imagined. 

Zuko tried to hide the little jump in his chest when he heard the way you agreed, like it wasn’t a bad memory but far from it. “You do?” 

You nodded with a warm smile on your face (or maybe it was just your cheeks burning from the confessions), “I liked you for so long, of course it was something to remember.” 

“Liked?” Zuko questioned nervously, “As in past tense?” 

“Yeah, as in past tense.” You began and Zuko’s heart dropped. 

“Oh…” 

“‘Cause now… I think- I think I fell in love with you a long time ago.” You looked up directly into his eyes, heart in your throat as you waited for a response. 

Zuko’s jaw dropped in disbelief and he stuttered over his words, “There wasn’t a single day I didn’t want to come back and take you away so we could be together.” 

You and Zuko stared into each other’s eyes as the weight of what was being said sunk in. Everything felt heightened right now, like else in the world mattered but Zuko. All you could see and hear and feel was him from his scent of woody spices and smoke to the way the moonlight reflected off his perfect skin - scar included. You could literally feel the warmth radiating from his body, a warmth you had a feeling hadn’t been there in a long time. 

“What’s there to stop us from being together now?” In all the futures you’d imagined with Zuko, this wasn’t really a scenario you’d thought of. The two of you sitting on a rock at Zuko’s family summer house after years of not seeing each other- Zuko, a banished and disgraced prince and you, a former servant runaway- but now seeing each other without the shroud of all the barriers of titles and statuses. 

Your lips had already been dangerously close when you were talking, making the ever so slight move inwards to close the gap feel effortless. The question you’d posed was responded to with a long, deep kiss. Zuko’s lips had changed so much since the last time you’d kissed them. The smooth soft lips that had lingered in your memory were now rougher and slightly chapped, weathered from years of hard work like the rest of him, though still soft enough to be familiar. 

Zuko’s hand came up to rest on the point where your jaw met your neck to guide your lips to his just ever so slightly deeper. He was lost in you, in your lips, in your scent, in your tase, in your touch. This moment was everything he’d dreamed about almost every night on his quest for the Avatar. Like everything else, this felt so different yet so familiar. 

Finally, you pulled away and this time you didn’t feel guilty or immediately look over your shoulder. You got to just be with Zuko. It was as if you were entranced by him, unable to take your eyes away. If you could’ve picked one moment to last forever, this would be it. 

That was until Zuko sighed and turned his face away, “There’s a war.” 

“So we’ll fight together.” Your hand that was still on his squeezed tightly. 

Zuko turned back to you and gripped your other hand, holding them close to his body, “Losing you the first time was hard enough. I can’t lose you again, Y/N.” 

You swallowed hard, “I know I’m not the most skilled Fire Bender in the world but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own. I don’t plan on dying in this war and you better not be planning on it either.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I just… I love you Y/N,” He confessed, his typical Zuko-esque flusteredness creeping into his tone, “But now after knowing you feel the same way and knowing what we could be, I just don’t know if I could handle risking losing my best friend and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” 

Your breath abandoned you when those three words left his lips, I love you. They were the three words you’d dreamed of hearing him tell you for years. But now he was using them as an excuse to not be with you. “I love you too, Zuko. I’ve loved you for so long. But what difference does it make if we fight this war as a couple or as friends? If we love each other, the pain of losing the other would be the same.” 

Zuko’s gaze fell to where your fingers were interlaced and he brought them up to his chest, looking at the contrast of his larger calloused hands to your smaller, slightly softer ones. “I can’t lose you.” He repeated, closing his eyes, but this time it sounded like a final decision. 

You pulled your body closer to his, your intertwined hands pressed between your chests, as you looked up at him, “Then don’t push me away.” Your plea was low, barely above a whisper, but by the way Zuko looked, you could tell it had some affect. “Please, let us do this together.” 

Zuko found it difficult to argue with you because it was like arguing with himself. You were the vocalization of everything he wanted deep down. “Okay,” He answered finally, “But only if you help me rebuild the Fire Nation when it's all over. Together.” 

[writerwrites]

Little Town Street

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: A college fling with Andy Barber is rekindled when you move back to Boston and you’re both single. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, tinge of angst, Defending Jacob spoilers / all the warnings that would go along with the series, fleeting mentions of divorce and bad breakups

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 3 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo​ || The Week 3 Prompt was based on  All Too Well by Taylor Swift || I’m only 3 months late, minimum || Fall dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Boston. Your heart raced just thinking about getting back to the place you went to college. The glide of the tassel across your cap and the memories of late night conversations over pizza and beer while elbow deep in a tort. You’d loved the smell of law books and the haze of the green lamps on the library’s oversized and ancient oak desks. The magic of that place was lost on you while you were there, as was the magic of the few relationships you managed to establish while getting your law degree. But here you were, the little suburban town just out of the city, boxes piling up in the empty living room as you settled into your newly single life at a small firm that liked your big New York City success. This was a needed change after a painful breakup. This was your clean break.

Covered in sweat with your hair in a messy top bun, tank top slithering up the steep curves of your soft sides while the sun kissed the back of your bronzed skin, you heard a honk at the intersection in front of your house. The unexpected sound jolted you and the heavy box of books slipped from your fingers and landed on your foot. Hopping to the steps of your new brick home, you looked over at the intersection. It was a near-accident that was the cause of the ruckus. Both cars now at a standstill at the center of the four-way intersection. It took a minute for you to process the shock as you rubbed at your aching foot, but there he was, thick brown hair and bright blue eyes looking at you through the windshield of a black Audi A6. Andy Barber.

With such a public court case and the subsequent car accident, every news-viewing American knew who he was and knew a little too much about him. The problem was that while you’d sat in your own office in the Big Apple, trying to put yourself in Andy’s shoes, you watched a person you once knew in a new light and while your now-ex kept bringing up the commentary of obvious guilt, you couldn't help but sympathize with the collapse of his life. It was too easy for you to slip into the heartache of a family stalked and ruined, a person left so completely exposed and judged by everyone that you’d trusted. It was, after all, why you’d left New York. It was a miracle you’d gotten your fresh start, the Barbers certainly didn’t. You could picture it, but you never speculated, never stayed on the channel when the case came on. Every fiber of your being couldn’t look at him, not because of what broadcasters said but because of the too real memories of a love lost.

You were the one that ended the stare-off, your foot aching more with every passing second. Jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line, you were just about to convince yourself that there was no way Andy Barber, your biggest competition in college and your first love, was outside your new home… and then you heard him say your name. God, it always sounded so good coming from his mouth. The last time you’d heard it he was asking you not to go, drunk outside the bar you’d had your first date telling you that what you two had was bigger than the careers ahead. He didn’t see the tears streaming down your face once you turned away to get in your cab. Maybe, after all this time, he thought you didn’t hear him scream your name.

When you opened your eyes Andy was there at the bottom of your driveway on that little town street, brows knit together with concern as he locked his car that was perfectly parked on the steep driveway like he’d done it a million times. “Don’t look so worried about me, Andrew. You’re the one who just nearly crashed a bajillion dollar car.”

He laughed, despite noticing how you’d used his full name like you two were standing on opposite ends of a courtroom- and maybe you were. But that laugh, the warmth of it wrapped you up and you were thrown back through the magic and memories of that romance once more. The plaid shirts you stole in the middle of the night to run to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your skin was covered in goosebumps despite the heat as you remembered how Andy had peeled you out of his shirts to warm you back up with his skin on yours, the metal of the fridge pressed to your back. Every moment with him was crystal clear in your mind the smells of autumn and taste of cider and beer when your tongues met, the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs, and... It took his hands on your chin to pull you out of the pain and want of those happier days that you’d ignorantly run from scared of settling. “Are you sure the box didn’t land on your pretty little head?”

The sound that passed your lips was practically a damn purr, you mentally cursed him for pulling it out of you with familiar ease. Opening your eyes to look up at him, you wondered if the emotions of that tumultuous relationship sat at the forefront of his mind too and if it was written on your face. “Nope, definitely landed on my foot.” Swallowing at the sandpaper in your throat, you looked at the swollen discolored mess. “You didn’t have to see if I was okay.”

“First, yeah, I did. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since I’ve seen you. Second, I saw you hop over here clutching your foot. I can’t leave a wounded deer on the side of the road, can I?” His hands were stubbornly placed on his hips and that’s when you noticed the pale indent of a missing wedding band on his left hand’s ring finger. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he rubbed at the spot like he’d not gotten used to the absence of the cool metal. A similar thin, faded line from a discarded engagement ring on your matching finger. “I guess we’ve both been through it.”

Offering him a small smile, he helped you up and as Andy’s strong hands clutched your waist you wondered if he’d remembered just how ticklish the space between your ribs and hip were when he was careful to not touch you there. When you grabbed at the perfectly tailored coat trying to hop around the man let out an amused grumble and scooped you up. “Aren’t we a little old for grand gestures?” Your head rolled back as you laughed and he turned to get you through the door without smacking your injured foot on the frame. “Jesus are you hitting the gym and benching thick girls, Barber?”

The laughter filling the house was only amplified by his unceremonious dropping of you onto the love seat. The crooked smile looking down at you made you melt. That look, it was a drug that you’d had you first taste of in a mock trial, when he knew he’d won his case and looked back at you in the seats behind him, taking notes. “Other than the box on the lawn, are there any more?”

“You don’t have to..”

“But I’m going to and I want to. Besides, you can’t.” Andy was already pulling off his coat, loosening his tie, and buttoning his shirt before you could protest... not that you were capable of it. He bit his lip when he caught sight of you drinking him in. The slacks and the undershirt that clung to him. “Like what you see?”

“It’s rude.” You stated matter of fact, gesturing to all of him. Andy raised his hands as if to apologize, heading to the door to get to work. Closing your eyes, you could perfectly picture that one picture of the two of you at your graduation. Inadvertently, you mumbled to yourself. “I miss looking that damn good.”

If your eyes hadn’t been closed maybe you would’ve seen the way he froze in the doorway, biting his tongue before stepping out. It wasn’t until you heard the hefty thunk of a box on the hardwood floor that you peaked your eyes open. A clear sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and you bit your lip, the heat running over your body was hardly from moving boxes or the summer heat pouring in the front door. “Please tell me the rest of it isn’t boxes of books, Legal Beagle.”

Scoffing at the old nickname you sighed, “Nope, it’s just bottles of wine and liquor and pictures. The remnants that I didn’t want to break or misplace in the moving truck that came a few days ago.”

“You’ve been here for days and you didn’t call.” His tone was surprisingly wounded.

“Well, Legal Eagle, you didn’t exactly shoot me an email either.” Andy’s eyes burned into you when you used his old nickname back, but you couldn’t decipher what that look really meant. Before you could ask or apologize he was turning back out the door, leaving you there to chew the inside of your cheek raw.

Andy made quick work of the boxes in your car while you nursed your bruised foot trying to unravel the feelings bubbling to the surface of your mind in memories and regrets. When the front door shut, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up, eyes fixed on the bruise while you thought about the emotional bruising you’d caused each other. It wasn’t hard to really know why he hadn’t emailed, nothing funny in the broken pieces you bother were left to pack up and move on from. When had you started crying? Cheeks wet when his hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, thumbs brushing the tears away. “Hey, if it hurts that bad maybe we should take you to get it looked at.”

Reaching up you grabbed Andy’s wrists, but you found yourself hanging there, incapable of pulling him off of you. Instead, your thumbs brushed across the inside of his wrists just applying a little bit of pressure before skimming your hands up the firm muscles of Andy’s forearms. Each of you tried to translate the signals the other was putting off. If it hadn’t been for the haze of being so close to him, maybe you would’ve had the sense to pull away. With a sniffle and apologetic smile you shook your head ‘no’- or at least to the best of your ability when he was still comforting you like no time or pain had passed between the two of you. How long had you been holding on to this first love?

This close you could see it, the little creases of age at the corners of his eyes and a little salt and pepper in his beard. Despite the way those lines seemed to crease his face like words of chapters you’d not been privy to, his blue gaze was unchanged and every welcoming detail of them looked at you like you hadn’t changed either. The moment his knee pressed between your thighs to your core you realized just how needy you were, whimpering and parting your legs as he lowered himself onto you. His hands moved down your neck to your breasts and a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over your nipples elicited another breathy moan from your lips. How long had it been since anyone had looked at you like that? How long since you’d gotten off?

“Andy,” The weight of his name on your tongue was dizzying, but the way he said your name back was just as heavy. You pulled his mouth to yours and he parted his lips to wrap around  your bottom lip. His beard scratched at your chin, sending shivers down your body.

Picking your hips up from the couch, you satisfied the ache between your legs on his thigh. Smirking against your lips Andy pressed harder into your core. “You missed me.”

“To the bone,” The confession passed your lips and all you wanted was for him to stay, the thought alone so wholly selfish. Your eyes fluttered open, scared that it had been poison on his own tongue, noticing how he’d pulled away ever so slightly. “That wasn’t fair.”

Though it seemed like a poor apology, Andy was already shaking his head to reassure you that it wasn’t. That quiet, it wasn’t a trait in him you recalled. His hands moved down your frame and he pulled you onto his lap, careful to let you move your legs to straddle him and not hit your foot along the way. “Did you think I wouldn’t care that you were coming back?”

Before you could answer, he stole your air again. Andy’s lips pressed to your neck and he hummed as he tasted the salt on your skin. Then he found the spot he used to always mark, that spot that always seemed to peak just a little out of your favorite courtroom blouse. Gasping, your nails scratched softly at his sides. He took it as a hint and pulled off his undershirt, throwing it at the boxes that had his tie, coat, and button up. “Andrew. I’m trying not to assume anything here but…”

He looked up at you so sweetly that it erased whatever logic you were trying to pull on him with that one dopey smile. “Tell me this isn’t home.”

“I..” Your mouth bobbed open and you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he mean Boston or this moment on his lap like pieces were falling into place since you’d left.

Squeezing your thighs in his palms he repeated the question. “Tell me this isn’t home. Tell me you don’t remember the promise you broke. Tell me those boxes with pictures don’t have the pictures of us all over this town.” Was this a call out? If he hadn’t been looking at you with such heartache you would have looked away. “Maybe I asked for too much and maybe I was just as scared as you were about the future I saw for us… but tell me we didn’t just find our time.”

The tips of your fingers moved up his chest and settled at the sides of his neck, innocently tugging at his beard. Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his forehead and slipped off of his lap though your whole body seemed almost unamused by the cruel neglect of his warmth, your legs staying draped over him and one arm still linked through his. Looking over the boxes you found the stack with the bright blue sharpie, ‘winter clothes’ sprawled across the top as it sat halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the closet by the front door. “Grab that one.”

Andy untangled himself from you with his fingers burning across your skin, reluctantly slipping off the couch to grab the box. When he came back with it you noticed a hesitant look on his face. His eyes moved to his discarded clothes and you sighed and pulled him back to the small couch. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding my questions?” Ignoring him you peeled the box open and moved a few things out of the way while you pulled out exactly what you knew you needed. “I don’t break over honesty anymo-”

Words seemed to escape him the moment he saw his scarf from the first time he’d gone home with you to meet your family. He didn’t do the meet-the-parents charade and the relationship had been new, but yours had welcomed him in and made him want his own one day. Andy never thought he’d settle with someone else, but that’s exactly what he’d done when you didn’t call, write, visit, or move back… he’d settled. That little trip was a memory he’d revisited often in the torment of waiting for you to come back. The pair of you had spent most of the holiday either studying for exams on your twin sized bed or pouring over old photographs from your childhood. Now you could practically see the memories flooding back as he reached for the scarf and brushed his fingers over the soft fabric.

So, it was your turn for a confession, an apology even. “I remember it all. I miss it all. We may have been young, but we weren’t wrong. No one knew me like you did. No one ever has. We grew up, but you lingered here.” Your fingers combed through his hair and tapped his temple before moving down his body to his sternum, tapping at his pulse, “... and here.” Andy covered your hand in his, drawing your fingers lower to the buckle of his slacks. Your cheeks went red and you nodded a ‘there too’ without being able to form the words.

“Do I get a hundredth chance?” The hope in his eyes was mirrored in your own, your racing heart no longer felt like a warning sign.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A shaky laugh passed your lips. Andy wrapped his arms around you, tender, before he laughed too, his body shaking against yours. “Oh, this is a prank? Well, damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Andy looked at you and lunging forward, mouths ricocheting in a deep kiss, tongues hungry for the lost time. Only when you came up for air, the pair of you now buried in the couch cushions, did he speak up, “You deserve all the hell I’m going to give you for waiting this long to let me love you.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and rub my skin raw with this beard?” Squirming under him, the pair of you frantically reached for every clasp and zipper until there was nothing left between you. His lips moved down your frame and you surprised yourself, pulling him back to your mouth. “You’re staying with me Andy Barber.” Your fingers wrapped around his length and pumped him, brushing the head of his cock against your slit, already dripping. “You’re staying so beard on thighs can wait.” Pressing your mouth back to his as you continued to tease him you whimpered, not even needing to say it but recalling how much he used to love hearing it. “I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need to feel all of you. I miss-”

The begging and pawing, he couldn’t take you slowly, not yet at least. Andy rutted himself into you, growling when your tight wet heat wrapped around him. He buried his forehead into the curve of your neck as he thrust into you over and over, savoring the way you gasped at his every slight movement. Andy worshiped the new softness of your frame and none of this felt like strangers trying to figure out how to get each other off. His thumb brushed back and forth across your swollen clit and, unlike anyone else, you stuttered his name as you got closer, clamping around him, hips bucking off the couch to meet every deep thrust as he slowed his pace to draw this out for both of you.

You loved the look on his face, the way he bit his swollen lips between a million kisses left on your sweaty skin. The way he lost focus when you said his name and how he gently grabbed your chin as you stuttered his name again; so close, so wet for him, so ready to finally get off. Permission, your legs shook and you whined as he kept you right there at the tipping point, building himself up to his own orgasm while he edged you. “Come for me, lover.”

The words were so welcome, just enough to push you over the edge and quickly chased by you begging him, “Stay inside me.” Andy throbbed inside you as you pulsed around his cock, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as your orgasm didn’t seem to stop, the room seemingly silent as the echoing thrusts and calling out of names tapered out to the sticky collapse of you both tangled up on the love seat.

Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in, and Andy watched you breathing. Softly, Andy nuzzled his nose against the top of your head. “If you fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep.”

With a hum you nodded, reaching up to his hand that had settled on your breast, patting it, “Would that be so bad?”

More to himself, voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t lose anyone else.”

“There’s probably a lot we can’t talk about, but this isn’t a dream, Andy.” Pivoting just enough to look at him you held his hand and kissed his chin. “I can’t lose you again either. I already lost a foot.”

There it was, that cheeky little smile. You both sleepy laughed and you watched his body relax. “You almost cost me my car.”

“I couldn’t run away again, even if I wanted to.” Crinkling your nose you smiled, brushing your finger over the smooth part of his skin where the missing ring marked him. He did the same. The scarf hung over the back of the sofa and looked up at him. “I don’t want to, if that wasn’t obvious.”

His blue eyes closed, his smile went soft, and Andy Barber fell asleep in your arms. If someone would have told you that this would have happened when you left New York you would have run back to Boston and spared the pair of you a world of pain. Though you were scared of bridging the gaps caused by the many roads the pair of you had taken to get here, you shut your eyes and smile at the reality that all those roads led home- to him. Like kintsugi everything seemed hopeful, incapable of breaking like the last time, stronger and made beautiful through the healing time of quiet apologies, verbal and physical.

It had been him all along, no denying it. Neither of you would ever have to ask the other to stay again.

All Content Tags: @tom-hlover​

CEvans Content Tags: @void-hoechlin​

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH5

<5> Spade's Preoccupation

Around the same time, the Twin Thunder Shark was cruising over somewhere else. It was a dark, moonless night. Spade and Dark Eye were sitting next to each other in the pilot seats. They were on a course for the holding place of a treasure they had sent out advance notice for. Spade glanced outside the window to the side. I'm feeling unsettled...

Ever since he had visited Joker's place, Spade's mind had been clouded over. Not because Joker had refused his generosity. He hadn't expected to manage a decent talk with Joker in the first place. What unsettled Spade was how an advance notice had been delivered to Joker from Noir. He had adjusted the story for Joker at the time, but actually, what Spade received wasn't an advance notice.

Spade recalled the letter from Noir.

 To Phantom Thief Spade,

I've heard your skills are top-notch among phantom thieves. I would like to ask your assistance.

-Phantom Thief Noir

 Of course, he was suspicious of the letter from the moment it arrived. Spade wouldn't be deceived by compliments. Joker came to mind immediately.

Is this one of Joker's pranks? Is he just trying to get a laugh at my expense when he sees me take up this offer without paying any heed...?

Then I'll just have to make the first move myself.

Spade had gone out to visit him with full conviction, but not only was it not Joker's doing, an advance notice had been sent from Noir to Joker as well.

Somehow, he felt as if he had lost. This "Noir" enigma was challenging Joker, and he was attempting to recruit Spade for it. Did he think he would be easier to manage? He considered Joker an enemy, yet wouldn't consider Spade as one.

That's why I lied on the spot...

"Spade-sama."

Hearing his name called suddenly, Spade snapped back.

"Kyo kyo, we'll be arriving shortly..."

"Ah, all right."

Spade overlooked the scenery beneath the front window. A small island floated in the middle of a dark ocean. The circular island was completely built over and looked like a maritime citadel. Rightly so, as this was the "Miral Fort Hotel", a former fortress remodeled into a hotel.

Sitting in the middle of the ocean, its manmade appearance gave it an imposing and out-of-place atmosphere. Yet as it was surrounded on all 360 degrees by water and removed from the bustle of the city, it was popular with rich people who wanted rare quiet. In spite of the exorbitant lodging fee, it was booked years in advance. He had come to steal a jewel from a wealthy woman who was staying there.

"..." Spade took a quick breath. "I need to discipline myself better..." he whispered. A letter that could have been a mere prank had him ruffled. Enough of that, don't even start. I have to focus on my thief work...

Beside him, Dark Eye peered over. "Kyo kyo, Spade-sama? Is something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing. It's about time to go."

"Indeed. Shall I still follow the plan you outlined earlier?"

"Yes, that will do."

"Then let us depart," said Dark Eye, putting on a head-to-toe black suit and a black backpack to blend into the dark of night. Then they carefully adjusted the hand of their wristwatch.

"All right, mission start."

"Understood."

Spade pushed a button and the floor opened up beneath them. Still upright, the pair dropped. Their silhouettes were silently swallowed up by the darkness of night.

In one of the hotel's rooms, a man observed the dark sea. A thin plume of purple smoke rose from the cigar in his mouth. The man shifted his attention to the advance notice in his hand.

 Tonight, I will steal the 'Octopus Turquoise' from the lady staying at the Miral Fort Hotel.

-Phantom Thief Spade

 "..." Without a word, the man lit the advance notice with his cigar and flung it into the ashtray. The advance notice burned silently.

"Ohohohoho, so it seems not even Phantom Thief Spade is able to come to this remote island!" Behind the man, a wealthy-looking lady laughed. Though she spoke elegantly, her words had an obnoxious ring. "It was worth renting out this secluded hotel. Even if he does manage to enter, he'll be caught in short order."

"Yes, exactly so." The man exhaled another puff of smoke out his mouth. The cigar smoke silently rose toward the ceiling of the luxurious room.

They were in the hotel's biggest suite. The spacious living room was in a circular shape and was furnished with a large bed and expensive fittings. Sitting in the middle of it all was the predictably octopus-shaped, shining blue gem, the Octopus Turquoise.

The lady addressed the man. "White Hawk, I'm paying you a considerable sum. Do your job well."

"Understood, madam. I may be your bodyguard at the moment, but I am a professional bounty hunter. There are people out there who will pay a hefty reward if I capture Phantom Thief Spade." The man called White Hawk looked at the lady and smirked. Hawk was a notorious bounty hunter. He was a well-built man, with upright silver hair and a military-esque uniform. He wore a patch over his right eye, and a big scar ran over his left cheek. These were proof that he was a seasoned warrior. Most of all, the powerful teeth clenching the thick cigar alluded to Hawk's fortitude.

"I'm the strongest bounty hunter out there! Ain't that right!"

The tall flunky standing beside Hawk answered with vigor. "Yes! White Hawk-sama is the strongest!"

"I sure am! Hah hah hah!" Hawk guffawed.

"Oho, it's an honor to fight someone who boasts to be the strongest."

"!?"

The voice came from the doorway. Who knows when he had gotten there, but Spade was standing at the entrance to the room.

"You! How did you get there!?"

"How? I just waltzed right in from outside."

"You couldn't have... My men were out there..."

"Those were your men? I was trying to not get my hair tangled while fighting and still swatted them down one after another. I would have hoped you could assemble some more formidable footsoldiers," Spade said, glancing at the flunky standing next to Hawk. The tall, unreliable-looking flunky let out an "e-eek!"

Hawk clicked his tongue and glared at Spade. "Tch... well, fine. I'll just capture you myself, right here. You're wanted alive. Count yourself lucky!" he bellowed, before running toward Spade. The tip of his smoldering cigar still poking out of his fist, he threw a punch at Spade. Spade nimbly dodged the blow and leapt back. Taking his small gun out of its holster, he aimed it at Hawk.

"Ice Shot!" Blue-white beams fired from Spade's gun, hitting Hawk's cigar. The cigar's flame was immediately extinguished, and its tip was frozen solid.

"W-What!?"

"Fire's weak to water. To ice, even more so. Everybody knows that."

"Ghh, then how about this!" Hawk said, taking out multiple cigars from his pocket and scattering them over the floor. The cigar tips crackled and sparked. They were bombs!

But Spade wasn't bothered and let loose a fusillade at each and every cigar with his Ice Shot. In moments, all of the bombs were silenced.

"Bah..."

"Your moves won't work on me. There's no better matchup than fire and ice." Spade chuckled. "Well, enough playing around. I'm going after my target now."

"What?"

Spade took a look at his wristwatch and counted down. "3, 2, 1... lights off!"

"WHAT!?"

Right on cue, the lights in the room crackled off. In a moment the whole place had gone completely dark. There was no light coming in from the window, either. After all, outside was the nighttime sea, devoid of even a single light.

"Perfect timing, Dark Eye," murmured Spade. Dark Eye had snuck into the hotel's electrical room and shut off power to all rooms, just as scheduled.

All right, time to take the treasure... Spade relied on his memory to navigate through the darkness, just before he saw a small ember. "...!?" Spade quickly moved himself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the ember.

"Tch!" He heard Hawk click his tongue nearby. Spade swiftly crouched down and stepped away. He heard Hawk's voice come from the darkness. "Phantom Thief Spade... did you think that cigars were the only thing up this bounty hunter's sleeve? My hearing's sharp enough that I can find wherever you are, even in this darkness. So much as twitch and you're done for!"

"......"

He's got me... Spade kept down and silenced his breathing. If he made the slightest sound, Hawk would find him. Still, not moving at all would get him nowhere. Spade slowly reached for his holster.

He'll get to me in a matter of seconds. Can I fire off my Ice Shot before that...? Spade recalled the room's layout with perfect detail. Okay...! He reached for his holster, rapidly now, and grabbed his Ice Shot. There was a slight rattle.

"There you are!" he heard Hawk say in the dark. His fist, with a cigar stuck between its fingers, was flying right toward Spade. Spade fired his Ice Shot, but it went off in the completely wrong direction.

"Ha ha ha! Where do you think you're aiming!?" In the darkness, Hawk's cigar-stuffed fist swung. Its embers were just about to singe Spade's cheek — but before it could connect, Spade vanished and Hawk's punch jabbed through air. "W-What the heck!?"

Hawk immediately pricked up his ears. But he couldn't hear Spade's footsteps. Instead he heard something sliding around the room.

"What's that sound?"

Spade had to be the one making it, but it was too fast. It was like he was circling around the whole room...

Just then, the room's lights crackled back on. Hit by the sudden flood of brightness, Hawk squinted. Within the rays, he saw Spade at the entrance to the room, holding the Octopus Turquoise and smiling.

"Heh heh, as promised, I've taken the treasure."

"M-My Octopus Turquoise!" Behind Hawk, the lady shrieked.

"You fop, how did you...!?" Hawk started, before seeing something glimmer in his peripheral vision. "W-What is this!?"

Hawk looked around and saw a meter-wide line of ice on the walls around the perimeter of the circular room. The line of ice stretched from the doorway where Spade was all the way to the back where the lady was at, making a complete loop.

"It's a line of ice I made with my Ice Shot. I suppose the easiest way to explain is that it's a makeshift skating rink."

"A what?"

Spade lifted up his leg. Now that he could see better, there was a blade like the kind used on ice skates on the bottom of his shoe. "I skated atop the line with these shoes while I was still making it with my Ice Shot. With enough speed, centrifugal force allowed me to skate on the walls to some degree. And of course, I picked up the treasure while I was at it!"

"Ghh...!" Hawk grimaced, biting down on his cigar.

"I'll be taking the treasure, then. Adios!" Spade turned around and jumped out the window in the room. He quickly blew a bubble of Balloon Gum and floated up toward the darkness of night. Behind him, he heard Hawk's voice, yelling "Wait!" at him.

As he steadily ascended toward the Twin Thunder Shark where Dark Eye was waiting, Spade was feeling refreshed, as if a load had been lifted off his chest. The phantom thief business truly is great... It was like all that doubt and second-guessing earlier had never even happened.

That was when...

For a split second, Spade let down his guard. He heard a pop, and a moment later realized that his Balloon Gum had burst. "!?" He looked and saw Hawk on the hotel roof, brandishing a gun. Hawk fixed his sights, taking aim for Spade. Spade's body had started to fall. He was a sitting duck.

Oh shoot...! Spade hurriedly tried to inflate another Balloon Gum, but he got off-balance and the gum fell out of his pocket. "Aaah!"

Looking again, Hawk was aiming directly at Spade. His finger was on the trigger. "You're not getting away, Phantom Thief Spade!"

"Ghh...!" Spade thought it was all over, but just then...

Everything went black, and he felt his body being gently held up.

"Are you all right?" It was a man's voice; one he had never heard before. Whoever it belonged to, he was somehow floating in the air.

"Haah!" The man held up a knife and threw it with force. Hawk's resulting scream echoing from the rooftop was just barely audible. "You're okay now."

Reassured by the voice, Spade's body warmed. When Spade was shocked by something, he became feverish. Then a wiry arm drugged Spade with something. Spade's consciousness slowly floated away.

Spade awoke to a chilly breeze on his cheek.

"Mmm..."

He glanced around and saw that he was in a dark, cold room, with a faint shaft of moonlight beaming in from the window. It seemed to be some kind of decrepit house, but with so little light, he couldn't see the whole room. Spade himself was lying down on a small platform.

"...Spade-kun, how do you do. This is my hideout. So as to keep the location secret, I put you to sleep for a little while," came a voice from the darkness. It was a low, monotone voice... the same one that had saved Spade.

"You're...?"

"My name is Noir. I sent you a letter."

"I see..." So I was saved by Noir. Spade slowly sat up. "Thank you for what you did. I was careless..."

"Hm..." Noir didn't respond. Spade went ahead and asked the question on his mind.

"Why did you send me that letter? What do you want my assistance for?"

"Oh yes... that was a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"I intended to steal a treasure from Joker and, with your help, defeat Silver Heart. However, it appears I overestimated you."

"What? Defeat my master...?" Hearing all this, Spade wasn't even sure where to start.

"You and I have similar circumstances. Thus I believed that you would be willing to help me defeat Silver Heart. Seeing as you are Joker's rival, I thought sure that you would be motivated if I showed you this treasure I stole from Joker."

"You took a treasure from Joker!?" Spade exclaimed. In the dark, a red gemstone caught the light of the moon and gleamed. It was the Crimson Crystal which Joker had stolen from Kaneari. "That's..."

"I won it from Joker in a minute-long match. For me, something such as this is child's play. However, Silver Heart will not be as simple."

"Aha. You have confidence in your skills. You're planning to challenge my master to a match?"

"That's correct. I will never forgive him."

"I don't know what happened between you and Master. But do you really think I would assist with that?" Spade said with a faint smile. Even if he had beaten Joker, he certainly wouldn't help him fight against his master.

"That makes sense... Regardless, I no longer have any need for you."

"Huh...?"

"That theft you just did. You stayed calm and collected through most of it, but at the very end, you let down your guard. That could have been a fatal mistake."

"That was because..." I can't say it was because the letter he sent was bothering me. That's just an excuse.

"My apologies, but I rescind what I said in the letter. I do not need your assistance. I would be better off with Joker, who chose to fight against me."

"Say what..." Spade's eyes flashed with anger as he glared into the dark. "Show yourself! I'll prove to you here and now that I'm not inferior to Joker!"

"Heh heh, I am not in the habit of showing myself to those I deem unworthy..."

"Ghh... Unworthy, you say..."

But Spade knew that he couldn't fight here anyway. His body was still warm, and just getting up made his head feel dizzy.

"Farewell then, Phantom Thief Spade. Return this to Joker for me, if you would," Noir told him, placing the Crimson Crystal on a side table. "It's unlikely that we will meet again. Go ahead and chase behind Joker forever..." he said before apparently walking out. Then in a voice too low for Spade to hear, he spoke to himself. "I'm not like you..." Noir's footsteps faded away into the darkness.

"Wait! Take that back!"

But Noir didn't respond to Spade's shout. Soon enough, he could no longer hear the footsteps.

"Ghh..." Spade balled up a fist and slammed it onto the table. It made a heavy thud, and pain coursed through Spade's hand. He gnashed his teeth, the frustration heating up his body even more. "Phantom Thief... Noir......!" he wrung out.

Then with a great clamor, Dark Eye came in to his rescue exclaiming "Spade-sama!", but their voice didn't reach Spade's ears.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Life After Losing Him

Summary: Reader goes about their new daily life but soon runs into the best friend they had lost several months prior.

TW/CW: Platonic!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester (mostly Dean tbh). Classmate bullying Reader. Should College Student Reader be a warning? Bc I feel like it should lmao. Lots of swearing. Dean does the silver blade test so a wound and blade are mentioned. I don’t think there’s anything else but lmk if I should add something.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Hello love, your writing is really good and I love how active you are on your account it’s very impressive I could never 🥰 I would be so honored if you could do a platonic imagine for me??? I had in mind like Dean going to hell and coming back and being mad at Sam because he stopped hunting and maybe being mad at reader for moving on and going to college/not trying to help Sam? Idk if that makes any sense lol”

Word Count: 1,880

A/N: So, Dean isn’t as angry as I could’ve written him to be, I didn’t really include Sam much in this one, and it’s mostly Reader going about her day in her new life. If enough of you want it, I could write a second part where Dean and Reader get home and talk to Sam or whatever. I hope this is alright. I personally really like some bits of it but as a whole it feels off to me for some reason.

Your POV

    I grabbed the car keys off my side table before heading out my bedroom door with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I stopped in the kitchen to grab the lunch I had packed the previous evening and a thermos of coffee before heading out for another day of boring ass classes. When I enrolled at the local community college to major in folklore and mythology, I thought the classes would be more interesting and it would be a piece of cake but unfortunately, I got stuck with a boring professor who obviously didn’t even want to be teaching the class in the first place. I push the garage doors open before making my way over to the car. I open the door and drop down into the driver’s seat, set my thermos in the cupholder near my feet, and toss my backpack and lunchbox into the passenger seat. After closing the door, I sigh as I place my hands on the steering wheel, “Alright, Baby. Another day without him but I know you’ve still got my back.” I reach over and pat the dash before cranking the ignition and pulling out of the garage to head for school. The ride to school is quiet aside from the classic rock drifting softly through the speakers.  

    I manage to find a decent parking spot within walking distance of my class but have to mentally prepare myself before grabbing my coffee and backpack and stepping out of the car. I lock the doors, shut mine, and head towards class. On autopilot, I find the classroom that I need and take my usual seat near the front against a wall and turn my back to the wall as I always do. Aside from a few who like to get here early for the same reason I do, to get our favorite seats, the majority of the class hasn’t arrived yet so I pull out my notebook, pen, and coffee. I avoid all eye contact with the others in the room and label my notebook page for today’s lecture. For the most part, people around here seem to avoid me although I haven’t decided if it’s because I intimidate them or because they think I’m “one of those backwoods crazy people” or perhaps it’s both. Regardless, it suits me fine. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a degree and do something useful with my new life. When he died, Sam and I both agreed to not try to find a way to bring him back and try to create a normal life. Every now and then, I secretly take a hunt but it’s usually nothing more than a basic salt and burn case. I did get a job at a local mechanic shop. They were practically begging me to take the job when I showed up for the interview in Baby.

    I’m pulled from my thoughts as a loud group of guys enter the room. I try to ignore them but as per usual their little pack leader wants to try to ruin my day. He calls out to me but thankfully before he can start something, the instructor enters and tells him to have a seat. I’ll have to give this instructor points for at least not putting up with any bullshit like that in his class. Anyway, the rest of the class joins shortly and takes their seats and, on the dot, as always, the instructor starts his lecture. A miserable hour and a half later I have several pages of notes, most of which are completely false from a hunter’s perspective, about topics I already know the truth about just so I know what the instructor will expect on the test. The instructor dismisses us so I pack away all my things and head back to the car to eat lunch before my next class.

    I’m about halfway back to the car, which is completely hidden by a huge, jacked up, 4x4 pickup truck, when the loud group of guys catches up to me and their leader calls out again, "Hey, nerd! Why don’t you stop for a second? I didn’t get a chance to take notes in class and I want to get pictures of yours.”

    I ignore him and keep my head down as I mumble under my breath, “yeah because you were sleeping,” and continue to the car. As I come around the back end of the pickup and approach the car, I slam into something, or rather someone, sturdy and nearly get knocked on my ass if it weren’t for the person catching me. Out of instinct I go to grab my dagger out of its sheath under my sleeve but the person grabs my hand, “Don’t pull that thing out here. It’s just me.” Hearing that voice causes pure shock mixed with a touch of suspicion to wash over me. I look up and into the face of my formerly, dearly departed best friend, Dean Winchester. However, before I can ask questions or even test to make sure it’s him, the small group of my classmates rounds the end of the pickup truck causing Dean to push me behind him in a protective way.  

    The pack leader grins mischievously, “Who’s this? You know this guy, nerd?”

    I roll my eyes but Dean speaks up for me, “I’m (Y/n)’s brother you little bitch. Now, fuck off and leave her alone.” In all honesty, Dean wasn’t biologically my brother but he and Sam have been the closest thing to having any siblings in general that I’ve ever gotten.  

    The pack leader looks around Dean at me, “This true?” I nod. He laughs, “Well, I don’t know which of you are driving this piece of junk but you should probably get with the times and stop driving this old rust bucket. Maybe you could upgrade to a nice truck like mine here,” he taunts patting the truck parked beside us.

    “Your attention seeking, overcompensating piece of shit on wheels could never handle the things this car has been through,” Dean argues, stepping forward. I grab his arm and tug in attempts to get him to back down, no luck.

    The guy scoffs, “Yeah right. I bet if your little friend behind you there hit a curb it’d tear this car to pieces.”

    Before Dean can get into a fist fight, I unlock the car door and shove him in before climbing in myself. Unfortunately, the asshole doesn’t get the hint that I’m leaving and leans back against Baby. I check the mirrors to make sure that I’m not going to run anyone over before driving forward out of my spot, mentally thanking whoever didn’t park there or had just pulled out of the spot in front of me, causing the pack leader to fall on his ass. I laugh to myself as I watch in the rearview mirror and then take off. I find a secluded spot on campus to park so that I can test Dean, figure out what the hell happened with him, and eat my lunch before my next class in four hours. When I put the car in park, and look over, he’s already rolled his sleeve up and has a silver blade ready for the test. He presses the blade into his arm right above another wound that looks fresh.  

    “I figure if Sam wanted all the tests done then you definitely will,” he grumbles before wrapping his arm having sufficiently proven he’s not allergic to the silver. I grab the bottle of holy water that I keep in my backpack and hand it to him. He takes a sip of it before handing it back to me. I nod in understanding before grabbing my lunchbox to eat.

    Once I’ve opened my sandwich, I take a bite, chew, and swallow before asking, “What happened this time?”

    “I don’t know, Sam’s working on that now,” he pauses, watching me, “I’d like to know what the hell happened to you.”

    “There it is again. You never call him Sam but that’s twice in just the past few minutes,” I muse, avoiding his question, “I guess you’re pissed at him because he stopped hunting?”

    “Yeah, and it seems to me like you did too so why don’t you answer my question?” he replies.

    I sigh, and toss my sandwich back onto the paper towel in my lap, “After we lost you, Sam and I agreed to not go looking for a way to bring you back and to start living a normal life. Granted, I always mentally thanked him for phrasing it that way because that meant if a way to bring you back fell into my lap then I could take the opportunity. Regardless, I got a job at a mechanic shop nearby and started classes here for a degree in folklore and mythology.”

    He scoffs and whips his head around to look out the windshield, “So you stopped hunting too. What the hell is wrong with you two?”

    “The two of us didn’t stop hunting. He did,” I snap back, “He doesn’t know it but I go on hunts every now and then when the apple pie life gets too boring.”

    “What about that asshole back there? Why do you let him bully you?” he asks, nodding his head toward where we had come from earlier.

    “He’s always trying to pick on me but I ignore him for the most part and keep my dagger in my sleeve just in case. The less attention I draw to myself the better.” I answer.

    “You’re really balancing all this? Like, you go to class and study for exams and shit but then every now and then you go hunting during the weekend?” he asks and I nod. “So, what about Sammy?”

    “He got a job, even been on a few dates but like I said, he stopped hunting, as far as I know anyway,” I respond. My phone dings before either of us could say anything else so I pick it up to check it and find that my instructor for my other class for today has sent out a message to cancel it for today. I toss the phone down onto the seat between us and stuff my sandwich and everything else I had pulled out back into my lunchbox before putting the car in drive and backing out of this spot.

    “What are you doing?” he questions, once again. I swear if he doesn’t knock it off with the questions, I’m going to roundhouse his ass.

    “Going home. My other class for today was cancelled,” I answer shortly.

    He’s quiet until we get to the campus entrance, “Can we- uh- Can we stop and get a burger on the way?” I nod as I laugh at him. This is probably going to be weird to adapt to but we’ll figure it out. The three of us always figure things out. Honestly, if this turns into something bigger, as it usually does, then wouldn’t mind quitting school. Turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be and definitely not for me. I just hope Dean won’t sulk too long about how Sam and I handled life after losing him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii @akshi8278 @deandaydreaming @castiels-majestic-wings​ @desimarie12​

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X1 & 17X2

MAJOR SPOILERS!!!

My mind is blown! I am shook! Never in a million years did I ever expect that we would see McDreamy again! Or that Meredith and Derek would be reunited like this. Oh my god. I literally can’t even. I think this might be the best season opener Grey’s Anatomy has ever done. Hands down. They came to play and they did not mess around. I thought something was off when they showed the opening sequence with Meredith on the beach because the pier walkway was way too long, but I never expected the surprise to be what it was.

The implication at the end of the episode is that Meredith has contracted COVID-19, is currently unresponsive, and will be battling this for the foreseeable future. I’m interested to see if that is in fact the case or if it’s something else. I did not believe that she was going to be the character that got it so I am super shocked and surprised. As some eagle eyed fans noticed over the summer the IMDB page for Grey’s Anatomy was updated recently with the appearance dates of many of the original cast members being updated to 2020.

I have to admit when I first saw that I didn’t think much of it because Season 16 overlapped between the years 2019 and 2020 and since they mentioned and used archival footage of past characters during seasons 15 and 16 my initial thought was that the actor’s profiles were updated to reflect this for contract reasons. But now that the McDreamy Derek Shephard himself has reappeared anything is possible my friends!

Literally anything and I am so glad. It looks like there are more dream sequences and possible afterlife sequences to come. My guess is that more of Meredith’s deceased loved ones will appear on that beach. I’d love to see George, Mark, Lexie, Ellis Grey, Doc the dog the list goes on. I’d also love to see Cristina, Alex, Izzie, Callie, Arizona, and April all make appearances either through dream sequences or over Zoom.

I’m also wondering if they’re going to have Meredith code and then do a reprise of the elevator hallway sequence where the elevator doors open and Meredith’s dead loved ones and important people in her life greet her and tell her it’s only temporary and she’ll back in the land of the living soon. Oh gosh. What if they have Ellis tell her she’s extraordinary?!?! Now I’m crying! She so deserves to hear that! Oh my gosh. The possibilities are endless.

The Station 19 episode wasn’t much of a cross over to be honest and I’m okay with that. My best friend and I watched it for context, but you could have totally gotten everything you needed to know just by watching Grey’s and those are the cross overs I prefer. In the Station 19 episode we got some additional Bailey and Ben content (always nice) and we learned how the kids who wound up with third degree burns became injured. That’s it really.

Richard had some snaps in this episode! He had all the best lines in my opinion! He was hilarious. His exchanges with Bailey and Catherine were hilarious. It’s great to see him back on his feet and throwing zingers. Bailey was a boss ass bitch in this episode. I loved it! She laid down the law and I thought they did a really good job of showing subtly how the COVID situation is impacting her because of her OCD. I really liked that they wrapped up DeLuca’s storyline because as long time readers will know I was not a fan of his mental health storyline and the last two seasons have really made me hate his character.

I thought they did a good job wrapping that up giving the confines of COVID, both real and fictional, and that we got closure there. At this point they’ve wrapped up his storyline to the point that DeLuca is back to being a side character and just another doctor who works in the hospital and for that I am glad. A fun little aside, when DeLuca asks Meredith if there is a specific patient she wants him to check on she tells him to check on the patient in room 1702 which is the episode number.

I was a bit disappointed that we didn’t get as many Meredith and Hayes scenes as I would have liked. Hayes wasn’t in the first half of the premiere at all and his scenes with Meredith in the second half were briefer than I would have liked. However, that might be because they weren’t able to film scenes with the actor before COVID shut everything down so I am hoping that we will see more scenes between him and Meredith, especially him at her bedside, going forward now that both actors are full time regular cast members.

I really loved the scenes that we did get. They felt authentic and natural. That natural comradery that the actors have was there in full force. We got to learn more about both characters quarantine situations with regards to their kids and we got to learn a bit more about Hayes’ past and their developing relationship which was nice. Also I really want to hear that story he alluded to about hoping an electric fence as a teenager to see his girlfriend. I loved the aside where Meredith commented that his mask was falling apart and he told her that he gave his new one to a nurse who needed it more than he did. He’s so caring and compassionate and kind I just want to reach through the screen and hug him.

Meredith deserves someone in her life who is kind like that and who thinks of others the way she does. Who puts the job and her patients and her kids first over everything else. Who gets it and thinks nothing of showing that kind of compassion. She’s never really been with anyone like that before. No one who was a doctor anyway. I also thought it was very significant that Hayes invited Meredith to have a drink with him in his office after work and then was the one that found her in the parking lot at the end of the episode.

This appears to be a call back to the fact that he asked her out for a drink at the end of last season and she accepted, but asked that they do a rain check because she was so exhausted and the fact that they are growing closer and he wanted to check in with her and see how she was doing. The fact that he was the one to discover her I think is also very significant because at the end there I felt liked he looked towards her car to see if she was there to talk to her or to see if she’d gone home and I love that he was looking out for her in that way.

Also, the fact that he was the one to find her and call for help and that led into a dream sequence where she was reunited with Derek the love of her life feels very significant. The fact that Hayes calls out to Meredith and tells her to stay with him, in the present and in the land of the living, and then that transitions into the dream sequence where Derek is calling out to her on the beach feels significant to me. 

My best friend that I watch with commented that she could see them doing a scene where Derek tells Meredith it’s okay to move on and fall in love again the way Abigail did with Cormac in the flashbacks we saw in the Conference episode last season. And that based on that Meredith makes the decision to formally move on and actively pursue something with Hayes now that she knows she has Derek’s blessing and that her ex DeLuca is doing okay and is back to work.

I think both of those things could free her to truly give Hayes a chance and build a life with him. He’s really the only post-Derek love interest for me who really checks all the boxes and who I could see her building a life with in a way that would respectfully honour what her and Derek had. It also just occurred to me that because they established that both Meredith and Hayes are quarantining at hotels because of their COVID work and are away from their kids there’s a potential storyline there in that once Meredith is better they could quarantine together and spend some sexy time alone without breaking any of the necessary restrictions. I’d love to see them quarantine together.

Something else that I realized after watching is that the episode establishes that Amelia and Link are quarantining at Meredith’s house with Scout, Zola, Bailey, and Ellis and that Maggie has been coming by to watch and visit with the kids from a safe distance while Meredith has been quarantining at a hotel because she’s working COVID command. The fact that they set this up early on in the episode becomes important later when you realize that something is wrong with Meredith and she’ll be hospitalized for a while and could die so it sets it up that her kids are okay because they’ve got Amelia, Link, and Maggie, people that Meredith trusts, looking after them.

Also we find out that Meredith’s house has a backyard for the first time! So that’s neat. Maggie and Winston are officially the cutest! I love them! I’m calling it now they’re endgame. They’re soulmates. I thought at first the long distance thing was going to be super boring and dull, but they found a way to make it really sexy and fun and I love that! We finally found out what Amelia and Link named their baby! As many had predicted they named the baby Scout! His full name is Scout Derek Shepherd Lincoln! My heart! Derek would be so so proud of Amelia. She’s come so far. I loved the scene with Meredith, Amelia, Link, and Scout. I really felt like that was missing from the Season 16 finale so I’m glad we got to see it in flashback.

About the only thing we didn’t get to see in this episode that I would have liked to have seen is a scene with Richard and Meredith catching up and either operating or treating a patient together. They haven’t had as much time together recently and I’ve missed that. Although considering that Meredith is about to hospitalized I’m guessing were about to see a whole lot of that. We did get to see Jackson spending lots of quality time with Richard and we got to see Maggie stand up for him with Catherine this episode so that was nice. This episode changed my mind about Catherine and Richard. 

At the end of last season I really wanted them to separate and go their separate ways because I felt like they were bringing out the worse in each other and that was the only way they could find peace. But this episode we saw Catherine apologize really apologize and she made Richard Chief of Chiefs to make up for what she did and I thought there reconciliation was really quite sweet. Teddy and Owen wowza. Teddy was god awful and a terrible human being this episode. I was completely on her side last season, but this episode changed that for me. I hate Owen as a character most of the time, but damn if this episode didn’t make me feel for him. Oh boy. Teddy lied straight to his face multiple times when given the opportunity to tell the truth.

I don’t think there’s any way that they can come back from that personally. Which is a shame because for the first time in the show’s run Owen is single and is not hung up on someone else. Cristina is in Switzerland living her best life. She’s happy. That’s long over. Amelia is with Link. They have a child together. Her and Owen are happily co-parenting Leo and there’s no way that Owen, horrible as he can be, would do anything at this point to split Amelia and Link up or come between them because that would mean separating Scout from his father and having lost his Dad at a young age Owen would never knowingly do that to someone else’s child. At least I don’t think he would.

Plus, he got what he wanted in that he did get to parent Betty and Leo with Amelia and they still share in the parenting of Leo. I also thought there was a good call back there to when Owen cheated on Cristina. I hated that plot, but it’s nice to see them acknowledge his relationship with Cristina because it was so instrumental to the show in those early seasons. I’m glad that we got a reference to Amelia and Owen co-parenting Leo because I feel like that’s been missing lately. I get that Teddy is scared of being happy, but the way she treated Owen was just horrible. She was so awful to him in this episode I actually felt sorry for the guy and that is truly a miraculous feat because I rarely do because of how horribly he treats all of the women in his life.

Side note: His line where he told his Mom to tell Leo that the broccoli and carrots needed to be reunited in his stomach was both hilarious and horrifying! I loved Owen’s lines and how he kind of played Teddy while giving her opportunities to tell him the truth. I thought that was hilarious in a funny not funny kind of way. I’m curious to see what Teddy, Owen, and Tom’s storylines will be going forward. We didn’t see a lot of Tom in this episode and at the end he was fired and demoted to being a Neurosurgeon. There’s no indication of him and Teddy getting back together so I’m curious to see what they do with him.

Owen seems 100% done with Teddy and her nonsense and at this point I can’t blame him. I would be too. I’m interested to see where this goes. Will Owen end up with someone else? Will he stay single and continue on as a single parent? What will happen to Teddy? I’m starting to really like Levi as a character I have to say. Nico not so much. He treats Levi horribly and the guy deserves so much better. I loved seeing the intern from Pac North who called Bailey an icon last season checking temperatures. Amazing.

Richard’s idea on how to sanitize the masks with the purple light was really cool. I loved the moments between him and Bailey. I get why she’s worried about him, but as Richard says Grey Sloan is his life. It’s his longest and most successful relationship and as he says he will find no peace without it. Bailey and Ben have my whole heart. They are so cute. They’re the best. I loved the small moment that they had at the beginning of the episode where Ben did the “going through the motions” count with her because he knows it helps her. It was also a great call back to Jo teaching that to Bailey after she got out of treatment.

Also oh my god Jo and Jackson! Wow! I have to say when I saw fans speculating about that online before the show came back I thought it was the dumbest idea ever. One, because those two characters rarely have scenes together and aren’t that close. And two, Jackson has Harriet and is a single parent. Jo has been decidedly luke warm on the idea of having kids. She only considered it because of her relationship with Alex. That being said, after this episode I could go for it. I liked the twist that she went to Jackson and asked him for a favour and they were going to hook up and have a one night stand and then Jo got drunk on the way over and wound up crying because she wasn’t ready.

I have a feeling that they’re going to have them go back to being friends for the time being and then pick that storyline up later when Jo’s had a chance to heal possibly in the second half of the season. I also like that they wrapped up the storyline between Jackson and Vic and that we got to see Harriet for the first time in forever! Yeah! Vic isn’t ready or wiling to be a step parent and I liked that they established that Jackson needs to be with someone long term that is. Jo isn’t at that stage yet, but at least she’s open to the idea and has been married and had a successful adult relationship with someone in the past. Jackson’s been married, divorced, lost a child, and is raising a child.

With time and proper communication I think they could actually be a great pairing. Never thought I’d say that. Not wanting to be a parent is part of what broke Jackson and Vic up in the first place. They never addressed the issue with Maggie, but in retrospect that was never going to work out because Maggie is so involved with Meredith’s kids. They’re her main focus kid wise. We should have known that they weren’t going to work out when they failed to address that.

With April what broke them up was her devote faith and his complete lack of belief coupled with the different ways they dealt with the death of Samuel. While I did like April and Jackson as a couple I was happy with April’s write off in the sense that she got to be with someone who shares her faith and dealt with the trauma of losing someone close to them in a similar way. Her and Jackson never had that. Jackson found God in the wake of almost losing April, but by that point it was too late.

The damage was down. There was nothing either of them could do to repair what had been broken. With Jo he has the opportunity to start anew and lay all of that out on the table and vice versa. Although I imagine that the conversation Meredith would have with Alex about that would be pretty weird. I thought they did a really good job of showing the realities of COVID in hospitals right now. What the disease does, how deadly it can be, and how hard it is on all the health care workers and first responders. 

I have family members and friends who work in health care and it’s a scary time. Levi’s comment that they had lost 100 people in one day and that he’d had to tell 100 people’s family members that their loved one had died was chilling. It’s also real. This is not something they are sensationalizing for the sake of television. This is really happening to real people everywhere and it is heartbreaking.

In this episode we saw Meredith have her first breakdown in quite some time. The last one I can remember was after Derek died and that was a while ago. She was upset that so many of her patients had died and I’m sure that reality is something that a lot of healthcare workers are going through right now. This episode felt raw in a lot of ways because of that and I’m glad that a show that has worked so hard to reflect the realities of our time is taking the time to honour and showcase that.

Also I think having Meredith Grey the show’s titular character and star for over 16 seasons potentially contract COVID and collapse from working too hard and not taking her own advice is the ultimate example of it can happen to anyone and anyone can get it. The show did not have to go as hard as it did, but they did and they delivered and I respect the hell out of that. The tagline for this season is “Sometimes we all need saving.” Apparently they were being literal about that as that includes Meredith freaking Grey. What a twist!

I honestly believe that this will be the show’s last season. Because when I look at the storylines and the ways in which they’ve set up the characters starting with last season I can see where they could go with it and how they would wrap everyone’s storylines up in a satisfactory way. Plus I don’t think they’ll ever be able to top this season and it’s opener. Also we’ve got main cast members coming back because those actors are normally so busy they’ll probably never get another opportunity like this to bring them back and they’d be foolish not to take it.

The promo for next week teases more scenes with McDreamy (!!!), Meredith battling COVID literally, and Hayes visiting her in her hospital room. I’m excited!

Until next time!

[silenceofthecookies]

Henlo Cookie UwU! Happy to see your askbox open, hope you get many good requests! I need some of that motivation to dive into the Magi manga u so graciously let me borrow, so I am going to ask for a scenario with Kouen and his beautiful goatee UwU, maybe an arranged marriage, but him and fem!reader actually fall in love? It's a bit unexpected for both of them since they were just seeing it as a duty, but a nice extra. Happy writing, enjoy your week off and much much love and much UwU!

Henlo Hazel! And I’m happy to see you in my askbox UwU. I’m really looking forward to you reading the manga! I’m expecting updates on feelings, though the most interesting things are in the second half, obviously 😉 For now, enjoy Kouen and his terribly weak goatee game! ❤

Word count: 1823

Warnings: Suggestive themes

“Do you, Ren Kouen, take L/N Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” “I do.” “And do you, L/N Y/N, take Ren Kouen to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “I do.” “Then by the power bestowed upon me by the Kou empire, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The first kiss held no emotion at all. Neither did the vows. Everything felt forced, just like the marriage you had gotten into. Not that you expected anything different. You and Kouen had been forced into a political marriage, you as the eldest princess of your kingdom, and Kouen as the crown prince, who would need a wife for when he ascended.

You had only met once before the marriage. The emperor of the Kou empire and your father were discussing the alliance, while Kouen was showing you around the palace grounds. He had been indifferent, uninterested and he seemed everything but happy. You couldn’t blame him, you weren’t too excited about this either. Though you were happy that Kouen was a handsome young man, and not some ugly old creep.

The party was stiff and formal, as you had expected. The wedding took place in the Kou empire, where you would now be living. Only a few nobles and family members from your country had showed up, so most of the guests were people you didn’t know. Kouen greeted them all with either a serious face or a confident grin, and he introduced you to every one of them. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to remember all of their names. The party wasn’t really on your mind at the moment, and neither were politics.

It was with your now husband, and what he would be expecting of you, mostly of the first night. You knew what was supposed to happen, but you did not feel ready for it at all. You had read many stories talking about the romance of sharing a bed with the person you loved, and the fact that you had to share this special moment with a stranger made you sick.

The party lasted until late in the night, and it resulted in quite a lot of drunk people. One of them had been one of the Kou princesses, Kougyoku if you remembered correctly, who had started talking to you. It was a little awkward because she was pretty far gone, but you could feel she meant well. She told you little things about Kouen, things you ‘should know as his wife’. How he would work until late at night, how he enjoyed reading and playing chess to pass his free time. How much all his younger siblings looked up to him, and how much of a respectable man he was. Before she got much further, one of her servants gently coaxed her away from your side, and apologised on her behalf for her intoxicated state.

Not long after that, the party ended and you follow Kouen to the bedroom. You were so nervous you could throw up, but you tried to endure it. Kouen held the door open for you, and you stepped inside.

“Your clothes are over in that closet. If you need anything, call the servants. I will be sleeping in my room down the hallway.” You stared at Kouen in disbelief. “But shouldn’t we… ehm…” “You’re uncomfortable, right? Don’t pretend you’re not, I’ve noticed your behaviour at the wedding. I refuse to take a woman against her will, wife or not. Get used to life around here first, then we’ll see about consummating the marriage.”

You stared at his back as Kouen left your room, unable to react. About a minute after he closed the door behind him, you collapsed and started crying, unable to contain all the feelings you felt. Fear. Had you been so obvious? Would there be consequences? Doubt. Were you not good enough? But also happiness. He would not take you against your will. You would not be forced to spend the night with him. You would spend the night in your own bed, without a stranger next to you, doing things to you.

Once you had let out most of the emotion and sorted the bulk of your thoughts, you got changed into your nightgown and lied down in the bed. After all the stress from that day, and the emotions from that night, you were both physically and emotionally exhausted. The comfort of your new bed took you by surprise, and it didn’t take long before you fell asleep.

The next morning, servants woke you up, helped you get ready, and your new life as a princess of the Kou empire, and wife to Ren Kouen, began. You were required to join him and his siblings during mealtimes, but apart from that you got a surprising amount of freedom. You were no hostage for your country, but you still expected a more restricted approach, certainly since Kouen seemed to strict. Then again, he had already shown you he respected you, at least until a certain degree.

For the first few weeks, you and Kouen barely talked to each other at all. There was some conversation during mealtimes, mostly to keep up appearances, but there was no spark, no affection, no love. Once mealtimes were over, you minded your business, and Kouen minded his. He never asked you to sleep in his room, nor did anyone else question it. It wasn’t like he was unfriendly to you, and neither were you to him. There was just very little interaction coming from either side. It was an arranged marriage after all, this was just your duty. Neither of you seemed very much interested in each other, until one night in the library.

You had been in the Kou palace for a little over a month, and you knew the place like the back of your hand. It was late, but you were far from tired. To chase away the boredom, you decided to head to the library to find a book to read until you got sleepy. Once you entered the library, you noticed the two eldest princes. Kouen was sitting on a chair next to a table with a chess board on it, and Koumei was walking away from the table.

“Come on, Koumei. Just one more game?” Kouen grinned. “You always say one more game, and then you insist on another one after that. I’ve had enough for today, brother. I’ll be retreating to my room. Good night.”

Koumei walked past you on his way out, and nodded to you as a greeting before he left. Kouen sighed, although still grinning, and looked at you.

“Good night, Y/N. What brings you here at this hour?” “I wanted to read a book before going to bed.” “I see… so you’re not tried yet?” “No…?” “You wouldn’t know how to play chess, would you?” “Only the basics, but I do, actually.” You were a little proud to admit you knew how to play chess. Maybe a little too proud. Kouens grin widened at your answer. “Then, why don’t you play a game with me?” You instantly regretted your answer, and the pride behind it, but it was too late to back down now. “Very well, one game.”

One game turned into many. Kouen beat you every game, but you learned from his strategies and got a little better every time. About 5 games in, most of the formalities and indifferent treatments had been cast aside and you finally managed to see Kouen as the person he was. Confident, curious, smart, strategic and most of all, someone who loves gloating at a win, even if it was against an inexperienced player. And on the rare occasion that you made a good move that ruined his strategy? He would actually scowl, which was an oddly cute look on the crown prince. The games continued for a good while, before drowsiness finally caught a hold of you.

“Perhaps we should end our game here for tonight?” “We’re mid-game, how come?” “Because you seem to be falling asleep right where you’re sitting.” Kouen said with a serious face, though he couldn’t help but grin at the end. “Maybe then you should make your move so we can continue this game. That would ease the boredom. I get thinking about your move, but you’re really taking long this time.” “I made my move 3 minutes ago, Y/N. Did you not notice?” You stared at Kouen, and he grinned back at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you huffed and got up. “Fine, we’ll end it here for tonight. Good night, Kouen.” “Good night, Y/N.”

Getting up the next morning was more of a challenge than expected. You had stayed up much later than expected because of the games, and now you were feeling the results of your actions. Maybe taking a nap somewhere around noon would be a good idea. Or straight after breakfast. That also sounded good.

“Well well, look who’s finally woken up.” Kouen grinned as you sat down next to him. “Did your defeat from last night keep you awake?” “Oh no, not at all. Though I suppose you slept great, gloating about how you, an experienced player, beat a novice at every single match?”

The table was deadly silent, with the exception of Koumei. Knowing what was going on, a single snort from him was heard before he continued eating with a smile. Kouen stared at you with his piercing glare, before actually laughing. The sound of his laughter sounded like music to your ears, and the way his eyes closed while laughing made your cheeks feel warm.

“Then why don’t we change that? My study, tonight after dinner. I’ll show you that no matter how good you get, you still won’t be able to defeat me.” “You’re on.” “Good.”

Kouen grinned at you one more time, before continuing to eat his breakfast. You had no idea why you agreed to getting your ass kicked some more at chess. It was probably his laugh, the sound and sight of it were now burned into your brain, and you were hoping to see it again soon.

As you walked back to your room, set on getting some more sleep now you knew you would probably be up late again tonight, you went over what just happened one more time. Mostly over what you felt during that conversation. The want to spend another night with him like that, and the heat you felt in your cheeks when he actually laughed. You had a good idea what this was, you had read enough books about it, but you wouldn’t call it love just yet. Maybe a crush would be better. You barely knew him after all, but you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case for long.

[lux-i-fer]

Believer of Faith and Mortality

Ao3 link

Synopsis: Lucifer and Chloe's victim shouldn't be alive, but the fact that he's currently alive and giving a statement says otherwise. When more and more miracle cases begin popping up, Lucifer believes that their lives aren't being spared out of the goodness of his Father's heart. The knock at the door only proves his theory.

Rating: M

Notes: HAHA HEYYYY! Guess who got the chapter out in under a year?? My most sincere apologies that this fic has been updating so slowly, I am just at that time in my life where everything requires my attention all at once and all the time. Never fear, I have not forgotten about this fic ;) This is unbetaed because in the year of our lord 2021, I have lost all hope in producing properly edited work.

Chapter Number: 6

For a few heavy seconds, the entire world shrank down to fit solely into Lucifer’s palm. The silence was almost suffocating as Amenadiel, Lucifer, and John stared at the silver phlegm dripping from Lucifer’s outstretched hand. Even outside of the harsh California sunlight, it still looked metallic and even glimmered like the chrome finishings on his Corvette. John found it almost blinding to look at directly, but there was a nagging feeling inside of him that demanded that he continue to look. The first time he’d seen it on Lucifer’s handkerchief, he’d only gotten a mere glance before Lucifer had hurriedly tucked it out of sight. Perhaps for him it was also supposed to be out of mind, but not for John. John was transfixed.

Looking at it now, he realized that it wasn’t really silver colored. Even though he never tore his eyes from it, it seemed to shift to a different color at the blink of an eye, changing so fast that it blurred together into one solid gray mass. And he found that it wasn't so much as metallic as it was almost lit by a soft inner light. John leaned forward, curious to see if there truly was something there or if he was imagining it.

A hand caught his shoulder and then the rest of the world seemed to snap back into focus. John blinked and when he opened his eyes, Amenadiel stood between him and Lucifer.

“Did you hear anything I just said to you?” he asked. There was a heavy set of wrinkles above his brow that hadn’t been there at the start of their visit.

John blinked again. He felt a little dazed, and found that he couldn’t quite focus in on the rest of Amenadiel’s face. “No?” His voice came out slow and slurred.

Amenadiel frowned. “Okay, why don’t you--” he walked the both of them backwards out of the kitchen until the backs of John’s legs knocked against the edge of a chair, “sit down.”

John did as he was told and then put his head in his hands. He had a roaring headache.

“So,” he heard Amenadiel say. “As I said before, will someone please tell me what is going on?”

“Apparently zombies,” John muttered, massaging the space between his eyes.

“Well, you’re not actual zombies,” Lucifer corrected. “You’re more...undead than anything. If I didn’t know better I’d say that you lot were resurrected, but our Father does not lower himself to dabble in those sorts of miracles anymore.” Even with his eyes closed, John could practically feel the eye roll in his voice.

“No, I meant how long has this been going on.” John looked up to find Amenadiel gesturing to the silver liquid that Lucifer was trying in vain to mop up with his handkerchief.

Lucifer shook his head. “Not long. Just today. Surely it’s nothing.”

Amenadiel looked to John for confirmation.

John shrugged. “I’ve only been here a day, but I guess it lines up? He coughed some of it up on our way here.”

Amenadiel nodded solemnly, while Lucifer shot him a dirty look, the unspoken accusation of traitor hanging in the air. “It’s not that big a deal,” he sniffed. “Whatever it is, surely it’ll sort itself out. There’s no need to coddle me, Amenadiel, my mortality stint ended ages ago.”

John stilled. “Your what?”

Lucifer waved him off, flicking a few silver droplets in his direction. One managed to hit Amenadiel in the chest and his face crumpled up in disgust. “Luci, do everyone else a favor and wash your hands. For all we know this could be contagious.”

John silently agreed. As if the headache wasn’t already making him nauseous, now he was picturing Lucifer as some sort of supernatural Typhoid Mary. Even though he’d seen some pretty nasty stuff during his time as a beat cop, John had always been a bit of a hypochondriac. Not in any serious sense, but realizing that Lucifer could potentially be hacking up the divine equivalent of a ball of mucus and phlegm definitely made his stomach twist.

Lucifer scoffed, but surprisingly listened to his brother. John sent a silent thanks to God, but stopped halfway through his prayer when he realized that he just may be better off directing it at Amenadiel instead. If Lucifer was to be believed, which John still had a healthy amount of skepticism for, Nietzsche had been right. In all the ways that mattered, God was as good as dead. Between the headache and the whole coming back to life thing, John really didn’t want to unpack that existential crisis right now.

“Is that a thing?” he asked instead. “Can you guys get the celestial flu or something?”

Lucifer sighed. “Don’t be silly, Jonathan. Angels can’t get sick.”

“Well clearly you are, so that can’t be entirely true.”

“John has a point, Luci. Whatever this is, it shouldn’t be happening.” Amenadiel turned to John. “And whatever is going on with souls crossing back over the threshold shouldn’t be happening either. It would be foolish to assume that these two events coinciding is a mere coincidence. I’d like to hear more about how you got back to Earth, John. I have a feeling that Luci has omitted some key details.”

At that, Lucifer tightened his hand around his glass of whiskey. At some point he’d poured himself glass number four, making John certain that he would be DD’ing the Devil himself back to Chloe’s apartment later.

“I don’t think I’m the best one to ask about details.” The image of Lucifer’s wrist covered in “souvenirs” flashed through John’s mind. “If anything, we were coming to you for some answers. All I know is that one second I’m in Limbo with this jackass,” he jerked a thumb in Lucifer’s direction, “and the next my daughter is telling me that I’ve been dead for nearly twenty years.”

“Limbo?” Amenadiel asked incredulously. “What ever were you doing there? Human souls are not supposed to go there.”

“Well I did. Lucifer told me that others go there too.”

Amenadiel looked at Lucifer.

“Times have changed, brother. Humans have more fight in them now, and Azrael has a shorter temper than she used to. Humans still condemn themselves to their respective eternities, but if they are particularly wily and combative when Azrael sees them off, sometimes she doesn’t see the job through. Usually they make it where they need to go without her guidance, but occasionally they do not. Those who don’t end up in Limbo.” Lucifer inclined his head in John’s direction, as if to give an example.

Amenadiel didn’t look convinced. “How could John have been in Limbo if he recalls seeing you? How are you certain that it wasn’t Hell?”

“It wasn’t Hell,” Lucifer said sharply, catching both Amenadiel and John off guard. John wasn’t sure what had just happened, but whatever Amenadiel had implied was obviously a touchy subject.

Lucifer stared at them for a moment, dark eyes unblinking and tracking their reactions like a predator. Then he sighed, and his shoulders relaxed, as if a great weight had dragged them down. His fingers worried his cufflinks again.

“Hell isn’t my only domain. Technically Dad also cursed me with that Dad-forsaken wasteland, but I hardly visited. It was a nice getaway when Hell became too much to bear, but it was just as undesirable in different ways.” Lucifer paused then. His eyes had grown distant, and his jaw was set. His hands flitted back to his glass.

“Do you remember our fallen brethren?” he said, his voice small.

Amenadiel’s brow furrowed at the subject change. “Of course, Luci.”

Lucifer continued to stare into his glass. “I wasn’t the only one who changed after I Fell. Our siblings, the ones that eventually fell too, they burned just as I did. After I had managed to pull myself out of the Lake of Fire, I gave the ones whose minds hadn’t completely shattered during the process positions within my court. They were, after all, family.” He chuckled humorlessly.

“In light of my recent sins, nepotism seemed like the least of my concerns at that point. I was correct, to some degree. Over time, most of the fallen grew twisted and corrupted by sin and they became a new breed of demon--an archduke-- but there were others who never recovered from the Fall. Something within them had broken. They weren’t quite demons and they certainly were not angels, either. They were, for lack of better description, mutilated. Inside and out. Their minds were fractured and their bodies, well--”

Lucifer’s form contorted like a tv glitch. Where his face should have been was replaced with something scarred and horrifying. It vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, but it didn’t matter because John had seen. Lucifer’s regular face was back, but John saw it with new clarity. Even before, he would freely admit that Lucifer was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, but it was a different beauty now. Now the sculpted angles of his face looked cruel and alien.

He didn’t think there were words to describe the primal sense of fear he had felt upon seeing it. It was like an echo of the morning’s conversation, when he’d discovered the name of the angel that had guided him through Limbo. He wanted to bolt like a spooked horse and run and run until he was certain that Lucifer would never find him. John’s heart raced, but his fear kept him rooted in his chair. He knew he should calm down. He had to calm down. His head felt like it was going to explode. John groaned and put his head back in his hands.

“Jonathan.”

John’s head snapped back up, bringing a wave of dizziness along with it. His heart seized when he realized that Lucifer was staring straight at him. The afterimage of his burned face lingered in John’s mind’s eye, and it was almost impossible for him to look at Lucifer at all.

“Do not go breaking on me now. The Detective will be very upset with me if you do.” His tone was blasé, but John saw a glint of uncertainty in his eye. Was Lucifer upset by his reaction? Why would the Devil even feel that way? John searched his shark-eyes for an answer.

Shockingly, Lucifer was the one to look away first. He returned his attention to his glass for a second time before continuing his explanation.

“The other fallen--the ones driven mad by the Fall-- were little more than rabid dogs, and they had developed an insatiable hunger for divine flesh. I suppose in human terms you would say they became cannibals, but such a human concept does not do their transformation justice. They were truly beastly, mere husks of angels and mutated beyond any demon.” John shuddered as he remembered the feeling of claws tracing along his cheek. Beastly indeed.

“So I locked them up,” Lucifer proclaimed. “I had the archdukes assist me in rounding them up and throwing them into Limbo. There they could live freely, on a separate plane away from Heaven and Hell, and out of my hair. I would only visit occasionally, like I said, for peace and quiet and to make sure that they were behaving.”

The room dissolved into silence once again. Amenadiel seemed to still be processing the information, and John was trying his best not to pass out from pain or fear. He still wasn’t sure which would eventually win out. He supposed by the way his skull felt like it was getting a forced lobotomy he would have to say it was going to be the pain.

Amenadiel finally cleared his throat. “So if I understand you correctly, you have been completely aware that these...creatures have been running amuck in Limbo, and yet you continue to let them roam, even though they're torturing innocent souls?”

In an instant, Lucifer slammed his hands onto the counter. John flinched as the sound ricocheted through his head like a massive bell. Amenadiel stood, unflinching, his face contorted into a stony mask. Lucifer’s eyes blazed and his lips curled back into a snarl. In that moment he looked every bit of the razor-sharp angel that had plucked John from the clutches of his cannibalistic siblings.

“Do not twist my words, Amenadiel, and do not criticize that which you do not know. I made the best of a bad hand. I dredged the land for lost souls as often as I could, but there was only so much I could do. And make no mistake, not all of the souls I found were innocent. I spared rapists and murderers from the clutches of our deranged siblings just as often as I pulled out martyred cops and saints. They all got the justice they deserved, and I carried it out like a good little son.”

At that, Lucifer turned on his heel and busied himself with something on the other side of the kitchen. Amenadiel simply watched his brother sulk and sighed heavily. “Luci,” he said to the Devil sulking in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to pin the blame on you. I jumped to conclusions.”

Lucifer turned back to face them, face drained of any prior anger. “Damn right you did.”

“But,” Amenadiel continued, pointing a finger at Lucifer. “My initial point still stands. It’s obvious that these creatures are dangerous, and yet they roam freely in Limbo. The last interaction you had with John was in the presence of these creatures. Isn’t there a possibility that your illness and John’s return to Earth are linked? They feed on the divine, and you said it yourself that none of the other resurrections occurred more than a day following their initial death.”

“That’s just it,” John chimed in. “Technically, it’s been twenty-or-so years since I saw Lucifer in Limbo. It may have only felt like a couple hours for me, but I imagine for him…” He waved his hand in lieu of finishing his thought.

“Yes, Jonathan is correct. In fact, I forgot about your existence entirely until you started threatening me over breakfast this morning.” Lucifer clapped his hands together. “At any rate, I think we can surmise that whatever this silver nonsense is, it is most certainly a fluke. If these events were truly connected then I would have gotten ill two decades ago. Nothing to do with Johnathan. Nothing to worry about. The resurrections on the other hand...” he shrugged.

“I don’t think we should discount the idea,” John cut in again. “Amenadiel’s right, it’s stupid to overlook the possibility. For now, I suppose we can put a pin in it, but it shouldn’t be off the table completely.”

Lucifer shot him an annoyed look. “Fine, whatever. Gang up on me, then.”

“Luci, we’re trying to help,” Amenadiel chided. Lucifer just rolled his eyes.

“The other bodies reeked of Heaven,” he started again, changing the subject. “I don’t know why or how, but they do, and it’s positively unbearable.”

John didn’t know Heaven even had a smell, but Amenadiel nodded like he understood. “I don’t have an answer or even an idea of how to explain that facet of this mystery. I would have to go to the Silver City to find out any more information.”

Lucifer considered Amenadiel’s proposition for a moment. He finished off the rest of his drink and glanced around the room. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “We’re in a time crunch, the sooner the better!” Dropping his empty glass into the sink, Lucifer swept out of the kitchen and towards the door. He turned back to face John and Amenadiel, a hand poised on the door handle. “Brother, I’ll be expecting your answer shortly.” Then he gestured to John. “Are you coming?”

John just sighed and hauled himself out of the chair. It took some effort to get his bearings, and when he finally did he stuck out his hand for Amenadiel to shake once more. Amenadiel inclined his head towards John and offered him a genuine smile.

“It was very nice to meet you, John Decker. Chloe speaks very highly of you. I can see now that her stories ring truthfully. You're a good man.”

John returned the smile, wincing as the pain in his head worsened with the movement. “Well I don’t know about that, but thank you. It was nice to meet you too.”

Before John could say anything else, Amenadiel dropped his hand and simply disappeared into thin air. John stared stupidly at the spot the angel had been occupying just a few moments before. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but at this point, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to find out.

Lucifer made an impatient sound from his place at the door. “Jonathan, you’re dallying. Are you going to stare off into space for the entire day?”

John shook himself and started towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, calm down I’m coming.”

When they reached the parking lot, John ignored the pain in his head and made a b-line for the driver’s side door, just barely sliding his body between it and Lucifer’s hand reaching for the handle.

“Give me your keys,” he said, making sure to use his no-bullshit cop voice.

“No.” Lucifer tried to wiggle his way around John, but John stood firm.

“You just drank four glasses of hard alcohol, I’m not letting you drive drunk through downtown LA.” Lucifer only continued to wiggle and try to squirm his way around John. Fuck, did he ever stop moving? John caught Lucifer’s arm as he tried to reach for something in the car. “Seriously, Lucifer, stop. I don’t care that you’re the Devil, you’re not driving.”

As weird as it felt to say that, there was truth in John’s words. His fear over seeing Lucifer’s other face had almost entirely dissipated.

“I’m not intoxicated, I have a supernatural metabolism!” He wiggled his arm out of John’s grasp and leaned around him to grab whatever it was that he had been trying to get from the car. When he found it, Lucifer handed the mystery item to John. It was a breathalyzer. Police issued. Most likely Chloe’s, John thought. When John did nothing with it, Lucifer pushed it and the hand holding it to John’s chest.

“Test me,” he said. “If I blow under the legal limit, I drive. If I blow over, which I won’t, you can drive. Deal?”

John sighed. He knew Lucifer was trying to compromise, but it didn’t change the fact that John’s patience had been steadily declining since Lucifer had decided to drag him all over the city. “Fine,” he said, exasperated and desperately wishing for somewhere to lie down.

He quickly set up the breathalyzer, his muscle memory taking over for him. Through some small miracle, Lucifer took the test without complaint. John had expected the meter to read at least an .09, but he was dumbfounded when he saw the 0.00 staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled. He gave the breathalyzer a little shake just to make sure it had gotten the right reading. The numbers remained unchanged.

Lucifer smirked. “Can we get on with things, then?”

On a day when John’s head wasn’t killing him, he would have asked for a retest, just to ensure that Lucifer hadn’t somehow rigged it in his favor. But John was exhausted and it was almost impossible to fake something like a breathalyzer, especially one that he himself had administered, so he decided to just let it slide. After all, it wasn’t like he was in any better condition to drive.

Wordlessly, John stepped out of the way and climbed into the passenger seat. Lucifer gave a victorious whoop and threw himself into the car. Another twinge of pain drilled through John’s skull and he winced away from his companion.

Now that he could take a moment to just breathe, John could finally acknowledge that he didn’t feel like himself. He felt feverish. Or high. He’d never been high to know what that felt like though. His forehead felt like it was about to split open like an egg, and he brought a hand up to touch it, just to make sure that no cracks had started to form. When he felt nothing, he squeezed his eyes shut and flopped back against the seat, wondering why Lucifer hadn’t driven off yet.

“Lucifer, why aren’t we moving?” he muttered, politeness thrown by the wayside.

“Because you’re doing a rather dramatic imitation of a dying raccoon. I don’t know much about humans, but I know enough to recognize that this isn’t normal behavior.” John must be hallucinating because Lucifer’s voice almost sounded caring. He told him as such.

Lucifer scoffed and finally shifted the car into gear. They drove in silence for about ten minutes before he spoke again. “It is possible that your body isn’t as stable as we initially thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s either that or your soul is unstable. Either way, something, besides the obvious, is not right. I have a feeling this headache of yours has been triggered by some imbalance. Whether that imbalance is in your mind, body, soul, or if my Father has decided to restitch the fabric of the universe, I cannot say for certain. The easiest way to solve it would be to return you back to your prior state.”

“My prior state, as in dead, right?”

Lucifer hummed, a nonanswer. That was all John needed to know that he’d been correct.

“Hey, please tell me we’re going back to Chloe’s?” he said, changing the subject. “It would really make her upset if we’re not there when she gets off work.”

“Ah, actually we won’t beat the Detective home.”

John sat straight up, whipping his head towards Lucifer. “What do you mean we’re not making it home before Chloe?”

Lucifer waved his hand absently. “Well you’ve lived in LA, you know how the traffic can be. Plus, we wasted more time than I had anticipated at Amenadiel’s.”

John sputtered and checked his watch. “But it’s like four in the afternoon. Even with traffic it won’t take us that long to get to her apartment, and the LAPD doesn’t usually let cops off until five at the earliest.”

“And you’d be correct; however, we’re not going to the Detective’s apartment straight away.”

“Where could we possibly be going?” John threw his hands up in the air because the alternative was to wrap them around Lucifer’s throat to choke some sense into him.

“I planned on stopping to grab something to eat, since I’m famished and surely you are too, considering we skipped lunch and barely had breakfast. I figured if we aren’t going to beat the Detective home we might as well show up with something to soften the blow. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission, you know.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Besides, it’s likely that she won’t be in a good mood anyways. I missed a call from her around noon, and about an hour ago she texted me saying that she wasn’t feeling well and was thinking about taking off of work early.”

“Did you call her back?” John asked.

“Call who back?”

John stared at him, bewildered. “Chloe. You said she tried to call you. Is she okay?” John’s outrage had been building slowly over the course of the day, but it had skyrocketed more in the last ten minutes than it had in the past few hours. He’d kept himself in check so far, but he wasn’t sure if he could hold it back if Lucifer insisted on being this much of an idiot.

“Oh. No, I didn’t return her call. I’m sure she’s fine, though.”

Something in John’s chest shifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he exploded. “First, she tells you not to leave the house, and the first thing you do is immediately go against her wishes. Then, you don’t even have the audacity to return her phone call? You’re acting like such an asshole. I love Chloe and I respect her, but I don’t know what she sees in you. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve her.”

Lucifer stilled. His fingers stopped on the steering wheel mid-drum, and if not for the wind whipping at his clothes, John would have thought that he was made of stone. A drop of fear slid down John’s spine as the weight of his actions settled into his bones. He may have gotten over the initial shock of seeing Lucifer’s true face, but that still didn’t change the fact that he’d just screamed at the Devil. No, not even that, he’d just screamed at Chloe’s boyfriend. Partner. Whatever he was. Someone important to her.

But just because Chloe cares for him didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve it , a voice whispered in the back of his head.

For a moment, John thought Lucifer wasn’t going to respond, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a poisonous smirk.

“You know, the Detective always told me that you were a soft spoken man,” Lucifer said.

John clenched his jaw at the perceived taunt. He turned to fully face Lucifer to give him another piece of his mind, but stopped mid-breath when he saw his face. Lucifer was purposely not looking John’s way, gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. He wasn’t really looking at the road, though, John thought. Even with half of his face obscured, John could tell that he was looking past it and into some distant memory instead, the same soft smile he’d given Chloe the night before playing across his lips. It was an abrupt change from how he’d been just a minute before: flippant, callous, ancient.

John deflated instantly. “I’m under a lot of stress right now,” he replied dumbly. It was all he could think to say.

Lucifer drove on silently. He still did not look John’s way.

“I know being stressed is no excuse for how short I’ve been with you today, but this is a lot for me to take in. I was never the atheist that Chloe turned out to be, but I was never truly a believer either. God, Heaven, you, it’s overwhelming. Not only that but Chloe--” John’s voice broke when he pictured his little girl as the twenty-something he left behind. He cleared his throat, trying to beat down the rising wave of emotion. “I didn’t get to help her move into her first apartment, I didn’t get to give her away at her wedding, I’ve never even gotten to hold my granddaughter,” he said quietly. “She grew up without me and I’m angry with myself for letting it happen. Seeing you with her, you being there for her when I couldn’t, it’s hard.”

That was the ugly feeling that had been sitting in John’s chest all day. That was the thing that couldn’t be packed away into a neat, little mental box to be dealt with at a later date. No matter how many times he’d tried to compartmentalize it, it always came back with full force. He knew it was the reason he was acting so caustically towards Lucifer, but it was as if his time in Limbo had tainted him in some way. It was almost as if simply brushing against those sinful beasts had made him into one too, teeming with new and nasty habits. The very thought left an equally nasty taste in his mouth.

He was used to dealing with jealousy. Penny had groupies and superfans just like any other actress of her day, and it had never bothered him before. He’d always trusted her. Now he found himself unable to bury the jealousy like he had before his death. It was embarrassing to admit. John had never wanted to be one of those overbearing and overprotective fathers.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Lucifer navigating them through the maze of LA highways, and John lost in thought. The car coasted along an exit ramp, and as they entered back into the city, Lucifer broke the silence.

“My Father was not the kind of father that you were--that you are,” he amended. “He wasn’t kind or nurturing or any of those things. In fact, He was quite harsh with my siblings and me at times. The last conversation we had was the shouting match that eventually got me condemned to Hell.”

John wasn’t sure where Lucifer was going with his anecdote, but he remained silent, just as the other man had when he’d vented out his own feelings.

“Even in the midst of my anger, even when I would scream my throat raw yelling obscenities at Him from down below, some part of me still loved Him and wanted Him to love me in return. I hated that part of myself for centuries. He was my punisher and my jailer, and yet, I still couldn’t rid myself of the longing to be recognized as His son.

“You and the Detective don’t have that kind of relationship, obviously, but I say all of this so that you’ll understand and believe me when I say that the Detective loves you very much. There are very few things that you could do as a parent to make her stop caring for you. Not even death could sever her heart from yours. She has made her peace with your passing, and for both her sake and yours, Jonathan, you should too. If you don’t, your guilt will condemn you to Hell. That’s how the system works; humans choose their own fate, no Devilish temptation required.”

Lucifer grimaced at his poor attempt at a joke. Then, he glanced over at John, as if to gauge his reaction to something. “Amenadiel was correct; you’re a good man and a good father,” he said, eyes drifting back to the road. “You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.”

His words echoed in John’s mind. You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.

“I’m sorry that I said you don’t deserve Chloe. That was wrong of me,” John said. “It’s not up for me to decide.”

Lucifer made some noncommittal noise.

“We got off on the wrong foot, and I genuinely want to try and get to know you properly.” John hesitated. “If you’ll let me,” he added almost too quietly to be heard over the wind.

Lucifer sighed his back-breaking sigh. “I suppose we can start over.”

At his affirmation, the ugly feeling in his chest subsided. “Good,” he nodded. “I’m glad.”

“But,” Lucifer stuck a finger up in the air, as if preparing to give another monologue. “Just because we’re “starting over” doesn’t mean that I’ll completely stop tormenting you, Jonathan. You’re far too entertaining when your brain is on the verge of melting.”

Lucifer’s tone was light and any malice it may have contained before had been replaced by a vibrant playfulness. John couldn’t fight back the smile on his face.

“Well as Chloe’s father, it is my job to give you a hard time, so I’ve got some tormenting of my own to do too.”

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m the Devil, darling. I’d love to see you try to get under my skin.”

“I’ve got a few cards up my sleeve,” John said. “You never know what might happen.”

Lucifer didn’t respond to that, but a sly smile had plastered itself to his face.

He guided the Corvette down a maze of one-ways, and five minutes later, they slowed to a stop and parked on a quiet street. As John took in the sun-bleached storefronts and crumbling fire escapes, he thought nothing of their location. It was only when he caught sight of a beat up dirt green sign boasting Marisol’s Flower Arrangements that John realized where they were.

“I died at a corner store about a block from here,” he said numbly, all traces of playful teasing draining away. They’d parked too far down the block for John to properly see the store, but he didn’t need a visual, the image of it was burned in his memory.

Lucifer got out of the car. “I know. I parked a block away for a reason. The Detective always says that you shouldn’t let victims see their crime scenes unless they specifically ask to. Something to do with shock or trauma.”

“So why bring us here at all?” John asked, though he already knew the answer. He was just surprised that Chloe still came here after everything that had happened with the shooting.

“Like I said, the Detective doesn’t hate you,” Lucifer replied with a knowing look. He tossed John the car keys. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Lucifer was true to his word, returning only ten minutes later with a takeout bag. When he got back in the car, he traded it for his keys. As they drove back through the city, John tried his best to ignore the bag on his lap. The heat from the food radiated through the cheap paper and into his skin like a persistent house cat kneading at his lap. He hated to think what would happen when he opened the bag. These sandwiches hadn’t just been Chloe’s favorite, once they were his favorite too. He feared that when he would eventually unwrap the foil, he wouldn’t be able to stomach them.

Secretly, John was glad that Lucifer hadn’t expected him to walk into that corner store. He was almost certain if he had, he would have ended up on the tile floor retching at the smell of grease and sweat. He’d choked on that scent as he laid with a bullet in his chest. He could only hope that he wouldn’t choke on the food when it came time to eat it.

John thought back to a time when he had gagged on black tar and maggots instead of grease and blood. He swallowed hard; an echo of oil slid down the back of his throat. Or maybe it was crawling back up. Maybe John would wake the next morning and find that whatever horrors he’d tasted in Limbo were festering inside of him like he was John Hurt in Alien . He supposed if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before it tore through his chest. John shuddered. He absentmindedly touched the space over his heart, as if it too was going to burst out of his chest.

The rest of the drive back to Chloe’s apartment was silent, and neither he nor Lucifer seemed to mind. For John, it was even a welcome reprieve from the madness that was his resurrection and a quiet moment before the inevitable emotional explosion waiting for them at the apartment.

His suspicions were only confirmed when the Corvette pulled into the parking lot. Chloe already had the door open and was standing in the doorframe with her arms crossed. He couldn’t completely make out her features from where they were parked, but John was sure when they got close enough her brows would be scrunched up in an exact replica of Penny’s when she was upset.

Lucifer killed the engine and jumped out of the car. His hands immediately flitted to his cufflinks and then on to smoothing invisible lines in his jacket. At least he was smart enough to be a little nervous, John thought.

“Detective!” Lucifer said when they got to the door. “We bought dinner!”

Chloe’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “What happened to not leaving the apartment?” she demanded.

Lucifer snatched the takeout bag from John’s grasp and held it up as if it explained everything. By the way her eye twitched, Chloe was not impressed.

“Is that the only place you went?” she demanded again.

Lucifer thrust the takeout bag back into John’s hands and flashed her a nervous smile.

“No,” John said flatly.

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer only flapped his hands and slipped past Chloe into the apartment. “It was just to see Linda and Amenadiel!” he called over his shoulder.

Chloe took a deep breath. She sagged against the doorframe, her shoulders tight with tension. “Dad, wherever he dragged you to, I’m sorry. It’s my fault for thinking that Lucifer could stay still and listen for more than a half hour.” She said the last bit a little louder, casting her gaze over her shoulder and making sure the man in question had heard them.

“It’s fine, monkey,” John said, drawing her attention back. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to keep us here. I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”

Finally, Chloe pushed herself off of the doorframe and allowed him to pass. “You shouldn’t have even had to argue to stay here,” she said as he walked past her. Even with his back to her, John could tell she was staring daggers at Lucifer while he busied himself with setting the table.

Just like he had that morning before Chloe had gone to work, John felt out of his element. It was easier for him to interact with Lucifer and Chloe separately. They represented vastly different periods of his life, or death, in Lucifer’s case. With them separated from each other, John could almost pretend that he was still living a normal life. When he was with Chloe, he could ignore his death. When he was with Lucifer, John could accept it head-on. But when they were together, it was difficult. He felt every inch the man lost in time when he saw them together.

All of these thoughts ran through John’s head in under a few seconds, but the existential discomfort of it all made it feel like an eternity.

“Here, I’ll take that from you, Dad,” Chloe said, appearing at his shoulder.

Mechanically, he handed the takeout bag to her, and then went to hang his borrowed jacket back on the hook. Task complete, John turned back to the table, still unsure what he should be doing. He watched Chloe open the bag, as if ready to divvy up their early dinner, and then stop. Her head snapped up to look across the table where Lucifer was pouring their drinks.

“It’s been a stressful two days, I knew you would like to have them,” he said, not looking up.

Lucifer finished filling the third glass in silence. When Chloe still hadn’t responded, he finally met her gaze. John didn’t know what he found there, her back was still to him, but Lucifer’s shoulders hunched.

“Did I get it wrong?” he asked, seemingly folding in on himself in a way that John didn’t know was possible.

“No. You didn’t. Thank you,” she replied softly. “But did you--?”

“No!” Lucifer waved his hand vehemently. “He stayed in the Corvette.”

Chloe nodded, and it was as if that motion cued all the others back to normal. She began setting their food onto plates, and Lucifer fluttered back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Slowly, John walked up to the table.

“Can I help with anything?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chloe said, balling up the empty takeout bag, “everything’s already done. Just take a seat.”

He reluctantly did as he was told. He stared at his foil-wrapped sandwich until Lucifer and Chloe sat across from him a moment later. The placement reminded him a bit like an interrogation. In some sense, John thought, perhaps it was. He could tell that Chloe had bitten her tongue about them disobeying her orders today. Surely, it wouldn’t be long before she started fishing for details.

“So,” Chloe began, unwrapping her sandwich. “You went to see Linda and Amenadiel.”

Lucifer took a long sip of wine. “Yes, not that they were any help.”

“Lucifer wanted to look for answers,” John put in, trying to be helpful.

Chloe glanced between the two of them. “What kind of answers?”

“Answers that would help us figure out what in Dad’s name is going on, of course,” Lucifer said.

She raised an eyebrow. “And? What did you find out?”

John was thankful when Lucifer launched into a recount of the day's activities. He loved Chloe, but he simply hadn’t been in the mood to talk since they’d picked up dinner. Speaking of dinner, he glanced down at his untouched sandwich. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat, it was just that he was afraid of what would happen when he did. He knew he was going to have to eat it eventually, or else Chloe would start to get suspicious. The last thing John wanted to do was cause her any more stress.

He forced himself to unwrap his sandwich. Chloe was busy listening to Lucifer, but her eyes were fixed on John the moment he’d begun to remove the foil. With her watching, there was little he could do besides take a bite. Much to his relief, he did not taste tar or ash. It tasted the same as he remembered--rich, greasy, fattening. Even still, it turned his stomach, John realized with dismay.

Under Chloe’s watchful eye, he fought through the nausea and forced down another bite. The ends of her mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Chloe turned back to Lucifer.

It hit him that for her, this was the first time in roughly two decades that they were sharing these sandwiches. In that moment, it was as if their lives had simply picked up from where they’d left off. Had John never been shot, this was what he would have done that night. Instead of choking on his own blood, he would have been up late at the kitchen table, eating these exact sandwiches with Chloe, and then sending her quietly off to bed afterwards.

John finished his sandwich. His stomach twisted itself into new shapes each time he swallowed, but he refused to ruin this for his daughter. She needed this as much as he’d needed to tell her that bedtime story the previous night.

To fend off the overwhelming nausea, he found himself laser-focused on Lucifer’s tale. That was when he noticed the omissions. Before, he hadn’t paid Lucifer’s storytelling any mind. He had been dealing with his own inner turmoil about Chloe and his untimely demise. Now that he had nothing else to do but pay attention, John began to notice the discrepancies.

Lucifer told Chloe most of what they’d experienced that day, with a few key cut corners. He neglected to tell her about Limbo and his mysterious cough. At first, John thought he was avoiding those topics because Chloe didn’t know the truth about who Lucifer really was, but that theory was quickly derailed when she didn’t blink an eye at Amenadiel searching Heaven for clues about their “resurrection problem.”

John didn’t know why he didn’t correct Lucifer. It would have been so easy to mention a detail he’d left out and watch the fallout unfold. Yet, he sat in silence, only adding in an affirmative sounding hum when Lucifer’s tale required it.

He just wanted to see where Lucifer went with it, he told himself. Lucifer had to have a reason he was leaving out key details, but then again, did he? If John was being entirely honest, even though they were on better terms now, he didn’t really know who Lucifer was at all. There was no telling whether or not he would be completely transparent with Chloe. In fact, if their detour around LA was anything to go by, Lucifer seemed to skirt around the truth and bend the rules quite often.

If Lucifer still refused to tell Chloe about Limbo and the cough by the time the night ended, John resolved that he would tell her himself. Chloe was his top priority, she deserved to know the truth, he finally decided. Plus, was it not John’s story to tell anyways? After all, he’d been the one who died and ended up there in the first place.

As Lucifer’s story drew to a close, John grew more and more convinced that he would have to be the one to tell Chloe about Limbo. But then, Lucifer’s story stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat once. Twice. Then he coughed. It sounded wet and thick like it had at Amenadiel’s, except this time it sounded deeper. It was as if Lucifer was a normal human smoker, and there was tar stuck to the bottom of his lungs.

Lucifer quickly pressed a napkin to his lips, but the coughs continued until he was almost gagging.

Chloe worriedly patted his back. “Are you okay?”

John opened his mouth to confess to Chloe that, no, her partner was not, and that he’d been like this all day, but Lucifer beat him to the punch.

“Fine,” Lucifer muttered between coughs. He coughed a few more times before it finally petered out, leaving Lucifer weepy-eyed and with an undoubtedly sore throat. He strategically wiped his mouth with a clean corner of the napkin before folding it up and out of Chloe’s sight. There wasn’t a speck of silver to be seen.

“What was that all about?” she asked, handing Lucifer his wine to wash down the remaining cough.

He shook his head, taking down the rest of the wine like a shot. “Not a clue.”

John shot a glare in his direction, and Lucifer tactfully ignored it.

Chloe stared at Lucifer for a few more seconds. When she found what she had been searching for, she stood and gathered up her dishes. “Maybe those cigarettes are finally catching up to you,” she chuckled over her shoulder as she headed to the sink.

“Darling, we both know my mortality stint ended ages ago,” Lucifer replied, voice scratchy. It was a pathetic recreation of the exact phrase he’d said to Amenadiel just hours before.

Chloe snorted. “Sure.”

John waited until she turned on the tap before he leaned across the table.

“You have to tell Chloe about everything that’s going on, not just the parts that you like or understand,” he whispered fiercely.

“That will only cause unnecessary worry for the Detective,” Lucifer whispered back. He unfolded the napkin and tilted it enough for the silver liquid inside to catch the light. “This is not something that she needs to worry about right now.”

“Lucifer, come on!” He gestured to the napkin. “You’re literally coughing up some unidentified substance. You said it yourself, you’re immortal. So why is this happening now?”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t care what you think you are, Chloe deserves to know.”

The tap shut off.

John glanced over to make sure that Chloe was still busy at the sink. When she was, he turned back to Lucifer.

“Tell Chloe, or I will, Lucifer.”

Lucifer just stared at the silver splatter on the napkin and said nothing.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-One

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Happy Holidays fuckers

A/N: also trigger warning for Nik's pos dad, and,,,,, nah i think that's it. Enjoy <3

Not a day after Lev was officially banished, Biela showed up. She was brisk, not even giving Lev the chance to acknowledge the two people she’d brought along. He was to be on house arrest, enforced by a spell that the witch she’d brought along would place on him. The fact that he was allowed up to fifty feet away from the house caught him by surprise; he’d fully expected to be confined to the inside. At least this way he could follow the kids in the pool or out into the yard, though Biela had made it clear he wasn’t to be outside alone.

She’d concluded this meeting by warning Lev that the house arrest would last until he proved he wasn’t a security risk. That meant Lev needed to learn how to defend himself, to Biela’s standards.

Lev understood. There was no third chance. If Lev got killed by a demon, it’d be detrimental to Cameron’s functioning. Not to mention Lev wasn’t sure how he’d handle being kidnapped by one. All of that aside he did want to know how to protect his children.

Biela had left with the witch when it was all done. The man she’d brought, who Lev learned was her brother Caius, stuck around long enough to exchange a few words with them, though Lev got the feeling it was more to get a good feel for who Lev was as a person than anything else.

Once all that was done and over with, Lev realized he still had a full day. Cameron had Eden, and Lev didn’t have the energy to fight him while Cameron reestablished his schedule. Instead, Lev ventured downstairs, something else on his mind.

He found Sazra in her room, like he’d expected. He knocked on the doorway when she didn’t look up right away, but having her silver eyes pinning him in place didn’t exactly put him at ease.

“Hi,” he said lamely, unsure of where to start.

“Can I help you?” she clipped out.

“I hope so,” Lev said, trying not to fidget. “I wanted to ask you about suppressants. I don’t know if demon suppressants will work for me, or if I need to get angelic suppressants, but-”

“And you’re asking me why?”

Lev blinked. “Because you’re a healer?” He said hesitantly. “I figured you out of everyone in the house would know about the way I’d react to demonic suppressants.”

Sazra lifted a brow. “Why would you think that when you think your healing is superior to mine?”

Oh. Lev fidgeted for a moment, before, “I’m not versed in medicine,” he started, and then hesitated. “If I’ve offended you...” He trailed off, looking for the right words. “It’s what I was taught,” he finally said, honestly. “And I never stopped to check my bias. I just parroted what I've been told for my entire life. I didn’t think about it at all.”

“I can see that. It’s rather arrogant of you.”

Lev didn’t think he’d ever been called arrogant before in his life. She wasn’t wrong though. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “It was.”

“Hm.” She thrummed her long nails against the wooden table, but didn’t offer any more words other than that.

Lev stared at her for a long time, unsure of what to say. In the end, he said simply, “Can I try to make amends? I was out of line.”

Her nails clicked on the table. “I’ll help you. Not because you apologized, but because Cameron is my boss and I owe him my life. Anything else?”

“No,” Lev said. “Thank you.” He paused halfway out the door, and turned back. “I haven’t had a heat in about a month and a half. If that helps anything?”

“I am aware. You can go now.”

Lev took that dismissal and slipped back upstairs.

---

After some searching, Lev found Nik in the back with Eden. He had her in the pool, in a cute black swimsuit with pink polka dots and ruffles. Eden was screaming happily as she splashed Nik. Lev padded to the edge of the pool, sitting down and dropping his feet in the water.

“Hi,” Lev said, smiling slightly.

Nik paddled over, dragging a giggling Eden with him. “I had to put sunscreen on her,” Nik said solemnly. “She probably burns faster than Cameron does.”

“Probably,” Lev agreed. He reached out, patting Nik’s hair. “Nik... do you want to talk about it? Any of it?”

“What part of dragging a screaming infant out to the pool suggests I want to talk about anything?”

Lev shrugged. “I thought I’d offer. We probably should eventually.”

Nik dunked under, though he kept Eden above the water. “Sure.”

“Are you okay?” Lev asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have you, I have Eden, I have Cameron. Everything is going back to normal.”

“You’re pregnant, I’m exiled, and I told you I lost my pregnancy in the worst way possible.” Lev hesitated. “A lot has happened. And... it’s easier to worry about you than it is to deal with everything right now.”

“Well as you can see, I am the picture of health.”

“Physically, sure,” Lev agreed. “I don’t think anyone in this house is mentally healthy.”

“Hm. Well.” Nik moved Eden to his hip, not even blinking when she smacked his face. “Is that your professional opinion, Doctor Lev? I had not realized you had gotten a psychology degree in Ghost Land.”

“Nik, please,” Lev said softly, but he really didn’t have it in him to fight. In the end, he just gave a small sigh. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”

Nik went back to playing with Eden, so Lev splashed a foot lightly and watched Eden grabbing at the water. Lev would have been content to watch, but Nik grabbed his ankle. “Nik, don-”

Nik yanked Lev in the pool, clothes and all. After sputtering at Nik while Eden shrieked, first in surprise and then in delight, Lev glared at Nik. “I’m dressed.”

“Oh?” Nik said innocently.

Lev swatted his shoulder gently. “You could have let me go find a swimsuit. Now I’m soaked.”

Nik simply hummed. “Yeah... Oh well. Better luck next time.”

Lev huffed, and reached for Eden. “Give her over. I want a turn.”

“Mm. My baby,” Nik said, kissing Eden’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Eden shrieked, grabbing at Nik’s hair. “See? All the ladies want me.”

Lev huffed, wading closer. He grabbed Nik’s sleeve when Nik tried to pull back, but was distracted by Cameron appearing.

“Phone,” Cameron said, looking annoyed.

Lev patted his pocket, and then held up the waterlogged device. “Nik pulled me in,” he offered apologetically. He set it down on the side of the pool. “I forgot I had it in my pocket.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” was all Cameron said. “Don’t do that again.”

“Tell Nik to not to pull me in,” Lev mumbled, before looking up at Cameron.

“I’m not his mother. You do it,” was all Cameron had to say before left.

“Yeah,” Nik parroted. “He’s not my mother.”

Lev splashed him and Eden both. Eden screeched, slapping the water herself. A laugh bubbled up, real and genuine. Lev turned away long enough to take off his sopping sweater and drop it beside the ruined phone.

This was worth it, he decided, dropping a kiss on Eden’s cheek. It was worth all of it.

---

Nik spent the next few hours getting a restless Eden under control and unconscious while also wandering around the house. Cameron seemed to be off in his study, doing Cameron Things and Lev was doing Lev Things. He was about to go see if he could bully Cameron into making stuffed peppers, when there was a knock at the doors. He was this close to ignoring it, and letting one of Cameron’s lackeys get it themselves, but he was closest to the door.

When he pulled the doors open, he felt his stomach drop. He had no idea why his father of all people decided to stand right in front of him, with that irritatingly neutral look on his face, especially in Demonic Territory. But he was. “Papi.”

Az’ril looked Nik up and down slowly enough Nik folded his arms over his chest, trying to hide his stomach out of sheer self-consciousness. Though it was completely useless and they both knew it. “You are pregnant.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “It’s Cameron’s,” he said, instantly.

“Hm.” He looked past Nik for only a second before saying, “Are you going to let me in?”

Nik took a wordless step back and to the side. There was no point in arguing, not when he was pregnant and he wasn’t going to risk the safety of either himself or his baby just when he decided he was going to keep the little leech who decided to continuously steal his food.

His father wasn’t even two steps in the house before both Cameron and Lev decided to come into the hallway from two separate directions.

Well that was just fantastic.

“Az’ril,” Cameron said, mildly. “To what do I owe this unannounced visit?”

Az’ril’s golden brown eyes flicked Cameron’s way. “I was not aware that I needed an invitation or to announce myself to visit my youngest.”

Cameron lifted a brow and stopped right behind Nik, close enough Nik could almost feel Cameron’s body heat. “How would you be aware when you do not ask? Or visit in the last year or so, but I digress.”

Lev stopped next to Nik and tried to take his hand. Nik only shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and said nothing. Az’ril’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but completely dismissed Cameron and turned his full attention back to Nik. “Let’s speak. Alone.”

“Nik,” Lev said, quietly.

He could feel Cameron’s gaze on him, letting him take the lead on however Nik wanted to move forward. Nik only lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I think we can find a room.”

He shouldered past Lev, without so much as a glance, aware his father was right on his heel without needing to be told to follow. He found the nearest office space and went in, immediately going to open the windows when he heard the door click behind him.

“So,” Nik said, leaning against the wall, with his arms folded over himself once more. “You wanted to talk…?”

Az’ril made himself at home by sitting in the desk chair. He glanced around the orderly office, taking note of the very sharp, immaculate furniture. “He seems to have inherited a great deal from his former station,” Az’ril noted.

“Yeah,” Nik said. “I imagine being raped every day for five hundred years, a fancy house was the least they could give him. But what do I know.”

The vaguest look of distaste crossed his father’s features. “Your crassness is bound to lose its charm,” he said, leaning back. “Especially now that you are pregnant. Even if it is with a demon’s spawn, and an illegitimate one at that. That cute attitude isn’t going to get you far much more.”

“I’m sure my cute looks will make up for it,” Nik said.

“We’ll see.”

The tightness in his chest didn’t let up a single bit, if anything it just reached further into his throat, making it that much harder to keep an unruffled appearance. The razor sharp look in his father’s eyes suggested Az’ril was more than aware. And he was unimpressed.

“How does the demon feel about your pregnancy,” Az’ril said. “Doesn’t quite seem the paternal type. As far as I’m aware, demons tend to eat their young.”

Nik chewed on his lip piercing. “He’s fine with it.”

“Is he?”

“That’s what I said,” Nik said, not able to keep the irritability out of his voice. “If you’re wanting a birth announcement, I’ll be sure to ship you one in the post. Is there anything else you wanted?”

“Actually there is,” Az’ril said.

Nik waited expectantly, trying to not squirm under that golden look.

“I do not think your demon is equipt to adequately care for a pregnant angel,” he said. “And I do not wish for a disgraced outcast to be caring for my child.”

Nik blinked. “I- what? Then where, exactly, do you expect me to go?”

“Your rooms are being set up as we speak,” his father replied. “A nursery as well, as you’re obviously keeping the child. Even if it’s part demon, your status is of mine, and I will not be having it or you here any longer. It’s about time you stopped playing house and returned to where you belong.”

“...I belong with Cameron and Lev,” Nik said.

Az’ril stood fast enough that Nik’s spine straightened on sheer instinct. “You need to stop with these convoluted fantasies of yours,” His father said, sharply. “You will come home, even if I have to drag you by your ear to do so. It’s for your own good, Nikolas.”

“But- what about them?”

“They are not my concern.” He crossed the desk. “This is my own fault,” he said. “I gave you too much freedom and left you unchecked and now your inability to take responsibility for any of your actions has led you unmarried, unmated and pregnant. So now, you will be coming home, and you will be letting me take care of you. End of discussion. Are we clear.”

Nik’s eyes trained to the ground. “Yes sir.”

“Better. Now go get your things, because we need to be leaving.”

Nik pushed off the wall and left the office as fast as he could go without sprinting out of the room. He shoved open the bedroom doors and went for the closet. He stopped dead in his tracks outside of it, anxiety clawing at his throat, but he forced himself forward to get his shit so he could get out of here.

“What’s going on?” Nik heard Lev ask from the doorway.

Nik stopped dead in his tracks before resuming once again. “Going home,” was all Nik said, going to toss a few of his jackets onto Cameron’s bed.

“This is home.”

Nik chewed on his bracelet and went back into the closest for more clothes. “Yeah, and so is Tullum. Papi is insistent on me coming home so he can take care of me while I’m pregnant.” He tried to keep the irritability out of his voice. It wasn’t Lev’s fault that Nik’s omega decided to kick into self preservation mode now.

Horrible timing, really.

“He won’t take no for an answer,” Nik said, dropping the rest of his clothes on the bed. “So I’m going home.” He fixed a smile in place. “That’s what’s best for the baby, am I right? Got to get the special angel healers and- and it’s a family thing. I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”

Lev stared at him for a moment. “You can’t go with him. It’s not what’s best for the baby and it’s not what’s best for you.”

“And you devised that in what, the five minutes of interaction with him?” Nik asked, sharply. “Family clearly does not mean the same thing to you as it does to me and mine. There are traditions and- and I just.” Nik exhaled sharply through his nose and muttered under his breath in spanish and went back to packing. There was no point. “I don’t have a choice and it’s not like you can stop him.”

“Nik,” Lev said softly. “I know people scare me all the time, but... not like him. Not like that.” He crossed the room, trying to take Nik’s hand as he said, “I won’t let him take you.”

Nik shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to die again?” Nik demanded, voice cracking. “You seem to forget that I am the only one in my family without magic. My family deals and trades in death and he has the power to absolutely obliterate anyone. Especially someone with no ties or protections offered by angels anymore. You literally just defied the laws of nature. Don’t get between us and ruin it for nothing.”

Lev’s face was the fiercest he’s ever seen from him. “You’re mine, and I’m not going to let him take you from us.”

Nik bit into his lip so hard he could taste the honey sweetness of his blood. He didn’t have an argument for that, especially when Lev’s head was annoyingly big when he was being annoyingly protective. It clearly meant he couldn’t listen to reason or fact. His father was just… he was death.

He put his head on Lev’s shoulder, not saying another word.

Nik was snapped out of his trance the moment he heard the sharp order in spanish to hurry up. His head lifted and sure enough his father was standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. “We need to get going.”

Lev looked at Az’ril. “He’s not going with you.”

Cameron appeared like a wraith in the doorway behind his father, eerily silent and perfectly unruffled as he sidestepped Az’ril as if he were little more than a stool in his way. “Nikolas can take his time,” he said, coolly. “As much of it as he wants.” His pale eyes slid towards Nik, looking for his stance.

Cameron was going to follow Nik’s play, no matter what he wanted for himself. He’d let them all make their decisions and damn themselves, but it would always be their decision. He’d have no part in shaping it.

When Nik looked down at the ground, Cameron then said, “Of course, if I wanted, I could keep him here. He’s pregnant with my child and as it would be my property, so is Nik.” The sheer, so very faint distaste in those words in Cameron’s tone didn’t go unnoticed by Nik. “I’m sure you, someone of such high political standing, would understand that.”

Nik didn’t dare say a fucking word, even as Lev positioned himself between Nik and Az’ril.

His father locked eyes with Cameron. Cameron was several centuries younger than his father, even if Cameron felt eons older in the icy, composed stance he was taking. “My son is not your property,” Az’ril bit out.

“By demonic law,” Cameron said, mildly, “he is. The moment you decided to send your son into spy on me and mine forfeited your right to Nik, and made him mine.” Cameron looked over at Nik and Lev, gaging the both of them with calculated stillness. “Come here.”

Nik was frozen in place for a split second before Lev gently took his arm and nudged him over to Cameron’s side. If Lev hadn’t made him move, Nik would have been torn between standing still and being at Cameron’s side in a split second with the sheer Alpha in his tone.

Cameron fixed his eyes on Nik, and then Nik’s throat. “Of course,” he said. “I am speaking in demonic terms, and not angelic terms. So let me be very clear about this.” A chill rippled down Nik’s spine when Cameron's very sharp teeth sunk into Nik’s throat.

Lev ushered out of Cameron’s way, but Nik could sense his eyes were still trained on Az’ril as Nik instantly went limp at the claiming bite being branded into his flesh. Cameron caught him easily before he collapsed onto the ground from the amount of hormones being flooded into his body.

Nik whimpered when Cameron’s teeth came out of his skin. He caught the golden sheen of blood still on Cameron’s pale lips before pushing his face into Cameron’s chest. Cameron’s arm held him firmly in place as Nik reached for Lev’s hand.

Lev took it but didn’t take his eyes off Az’ril.

Cameron didn’t blink at the way Az’ril’s eyes narrowed. Angels held mating bonds to one of the highest standards in their lands and Cameron knew it. “You know where the door is, yes? If not I’m sure someone can show you out.”

Nik didn’t dare look up from Cameron’s chest, but he heard his father retreat from the room, and hopefully the house. “I’m sorry,” Nik mumbled against Cameron’s chest.

Cameron tugged on his hair. “Quiet,” he said, not harshly. The order did mellow the anxiety curling in his chest.

Lev lightly bit Nik’s shoulder. “You’re staying with us,” Lev mumbled against his skin. “You belong with us.”

---

Breakfast the next morning was quiet. Though, admittedly, most of their breakfast lately were quiet. Nik couldn’t drink coffee and so it took even longer for him to wake up. Cameron rarely had much to say in the morning, and Lev was always tired nowadays so quiet it was.

However, this morning, Lev had something on his mind. “Cameron?” he asked. “I had a question.”

“Hm?”

“Can we start working on a nursery? I imagine it’ll take some work, and...” He shrugged.

Before Cameron responded, he walked out of the kitchen. Lev stared after him, and looked to Nik. Nik was still staring at his decaf coffee, face blank and definitely not awake. Cameron reappeared, book in hand. Lev lifted the cover as Cameron went back to fixing breakfast.

Inside the book was... plans. Color swatches and crib options and even a sketched layout or two. Lev traced a picture of a crib made of dark brown wood and with little sea stars carved into the headboard. “You already started planning without me?” he asked, trying to not sound petulant.

Cameron flicked a look in his direction. “You were sleeping.”

A low blow, but a fair one. Sleeping had been preferable to being awake. “Point,” Lev finally muttered. “Well can I help with the rest?”

“If you want.”

“I do,” Lev said, flipping back through the book carefully. He would have called it a scrapbook if it hadn’t been so brutally efficient. Besides. If he had, Lev had the feeling Cameron would have been offended. “I’m guessing an ocean theme?” he said, peering at the options Cameron had deemed acceptable for baby mobiles.

Cameron placed a plate of bacon down in front of him. “It seemed to fit Nik’s tastes.”

“This isn’t my coffee,” Nik suddenly complained, rubbing his face.

Lev looked over. “Looks like coffee to me?” He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Nik frowned. “This isn’t. My coffee.” This time he sounded more irritable.

“You’re not supposed to have caffeine, if that’s the problem,” Lev said, taking a bite of bacon.

“Says who?”

Lev offered him a piece of bacon. “Ash, probably. But also every pregnancy health book I’ve ever read. And I’ve read a lot.”

Nik slammed his mug down. “Well Ash isn’t here, and you’re not my boss.” He pulled out his phone, muttering in Spanish. Lev only got another piece of bacon before Nik startled him by shoving the phone in his face. “See? I can.” He was practically yelling, mostly from excitement from what Lev could tell.

Indeed, Ash had typed out a terse, “1.” Period included.

“Somehow that feels coerced,” Lev mumbled, before pointing out, “You have to convince Cameron too.”

Cameron sipped his tea calmly. “No,” he said. “Sit down.”

Nik plopped down, defeated. He stared at the counter sadly. “You’re all monsters.”

“Well, four more months and you can have caffeine again,” Lev encouraged.

“This leech is taking everything from me,” Nik mumbled.

Lev reached over, brushing his hair from his face. “Soon,” he promised, kissing Nik’s cheek.

Nik wrinkled his nose. “So what were you talking about before you decided to ruin my life?”

Lev closed the book carefully. “Nursery plans. Which- Cameron, do you think Nate would come paint the walls for us? I bet he’d do something pretty.”

Cameron put a plate of eggs and fruit down in front of Nik. “I already called him. He’ll be here tomorrow to start working on it.”

Lev huffed. “You’ve already thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“It’s easy. You’re both predictable.”

“What the fuck is this?” Nik demanded. “You give Lev bacon, and I get rabbit food? I’m a growing boy. I deserve bacon.”

Lev decided not to comment on the fact that he’d offered Nik a piece and Nik had decided to bemoan his coffee instead. “Eggs aren’t rabbit food,” he pointed out instead.

Nik took Lev’s plate. “Well fine then, you eat it. I’m eating your bacon.”

“Hey!” Lev reached for his plate. “Nik! Give it back.”

Nik just put his hand in Lev’s face, but Cameron switched the plates anyway. Nik whined, and all he got in response was a baring of Cameron’s teeth. Despite that Lev put a single piece of bacon on Nik’s plate.

Before any more bickering could start, a knock sounded. Lev peered over his shoulder in time to see a sentry leading a short woman into the room. She was hauling bags with her, though she set them down when she set eyes on Nik.

Nik had been in the middle of grumbling as he picked at his food, but when he saw her, he dropped his fork. “Mami?”

Lev watched them, mystified. He’d never met Nik’s mother, but when he looked to Cameron, Cameron just shook his head subtly like he knew what Lev was thinking. That left Lev even more confused, but he just looked back to see her cupping Nik’s face and fussing at him in rapid Spanish. In Nik’s defense, he looked pleased.

“Hello,” Lev offered when she seemed done. “I’m Lev?”

“I’m Mami Coco.” She looked to Cameron. “You can call me Socorro. I’ll be sleeping in a room next to Nikolas.”

Lev could see the annoyance flickering in Cameron’s face, but Nik looked happy, dark brown eyes shining as he got a hug from Mami Coco. Somehow Lev doubted Cameron would be irritated enough at the disruption in his plans and schedule enough to upset Nik over this. Instead, Cameron filled a plate for her too, and said, “Sit.”

There was a certain look to her that promised much headbutting in the future, but she sat beside Nik with a simple, “Okay.”

Tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XII

Eve arrived at school at exactly seven in the morning, a whole hour before class was supposed to start. She had gotten there in record time too, legs sore with how eager she was to leave the house.

You see, Eve had miscalculated her father’s arrival.

Severely.

Rather than arriving as she had slept, he walked through the door just in time for breakfast. Shirt crumpled, hair ruffled, a sated look in his brown eyes. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. They were too tired for that. Yes, long gone was the happy couple trying to make it all work. In their place, the shell of who they once were, wilting husks with only overwhelming sadness and a want for temporary pleasure filling it.

Breakfast was somehow worse than dinner. Far from suffocating, she felt as if she were choking despite how well she chewed her serving of eggs. The dining room, already nowhere near welcoming before, seemed to taint everything in it, the sour mood permeating it seeping into her orange juice, making it taste as if it had gone bad weeks ago. (It hadn’t, though. She even helped her mother load groceries into the refrigerator. The juice had been there for no more than two days.)

Eve sat on that on a wooden courtyard bench, the very same one she sat on just eleven days ago, legs sore from how fast she pedaled, aching almost as much as she ached to get out of that horrid hou-

“Shut up.” Her mind echoed. It was painful, how hard she hard to try to stop herself from saying things she shouldn’t, from doing things she shouldn’t. “You should be grateful you even have a family. You know how people here feel about broken homes and single moms…”

“Eve!” Elizabeth came up from behind her, slender arms wrapping around her in a hug. She was in a good mood, giggling behind her manicured hands, cheeks tinted the signature pink of love – or simply infatuation. It was hard to tell, really, if your friend truly loved a man when you yourself were incapable of such things, try as she might, no matter how hard she forced herself to.

Nothing came of it. Nothing would ever come of it.

“So, I’m assuming you had a fun night?”

Just because Eve didn’t understand what was so thrilling about kissing boys and all that came after it, didn’t mean she wouldn’t listen to Elizabeth’s excited ramblings of it. She knew what was expected of her. One day, hopefully not one day soon, she would find a boy she could tolerate, a decent one she would at least come to love as a friend; she would marry him and lie with him, as a good wife does and bear his children.

And she would tolerate it.

Just because she was like Lilith, didn’t mean she had to act like her, didn’t mean she had to act on what she felt for her.

“Not just a night!” Elizabeth’s dark eyes twinkled, gesturing wildly and almost obscenely with her hands. “I was with him every night during the weekend and Monday night. I got Mary to vouch for me so we could go out.”

“Out?”

The brunette nodded, clearly deliberate in stating that they went out in order to say: “He just got his driver’s license so we went out on his motorcycle to celebrate!”

“Motorcycle?” Eve perked up, pleasantly surprised her friend wasn’t here to brag about her sex life and the fact that Zachariah could drive. (Really, the last thing she needed was a detailed description of a blowjob, especially considering that her breakfast wasn’t sitting right with her, though that may just be her lingering dread speaking.)

“Yup! Since he’ll be on a scholarship for college next year, he convinced his parents to let him use the money they set aside for it to buy a bike.”

She went on about the boy and the places he’d taken her, a genuine joy in her every motion, in her every word, excitement clear to all who would lay eyes on her.

Oh, Eve could feel her happiness, potent, so close yet completely unattainable to the likes of her. That wasn’t a new realization, not by any means, no, but God, it was different this time; a bitter bile rising in her, leaving the taste of acid and envy and a sorrow not unlike that of resignment, of loss.

But between Elizabeth’s giggles and how nice the boy seemed to be, the taste would soon fade into a sweet sugar cookie sort of fondness.

Only a hint of that resignment remained, a tangy, rotten after taste.

...

Unlike the first day of their newly implemented schedule, today was not so tense.

Rather, the two girls sat next to each other, not even a ruler’s length apart, not tense but tenuous both of them lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and drowning in a sea of emotions either too scary to name or too muddled to be sure of, everything mixing and melding and melting like a soup with a certain ingredient you couldn’t quite place.

The memory of yesterday was burned into their minds, playing again and again on an endless loop for reasons they dare not say, the same words spoken and heard from slightly different perspectives with slightly different thoughts accompanying it.

For Lilith, yesterday was a sign of hope for Eve. She was willing to disobey, allowing herself the occasional indulgence with a bit of coaxing. All Eve needed was a nudge, a gentle push in the right direction. The redhead could imagine it quite vividly, the girl standing before her mother, letting lies slip from her lips, pretending to have been forced into a place of opposition she so evidently wanted to be in. Eve hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that her mother was the only thing keeping her from the club, either too tired to make up an excuse or just feeling comfortable enough to open up about it to her.

For Eve, yesterday was the end of playing dumb, the end of turning a blind eye to her own desires and the undeniable humanity of people… like Lilith. She could hardly believe all that had happened despite it being so clear in her head. Between what see had seen in the locker room and what had happened over lunch and the things she’d willingly done during club time… it was all too much.

Yesterday was the end of life as she knew it. Or rather, it was the beginning of the end.

After all, progress took time and it was by no means linear. Especially not during matters of this nature.

“So what did your mom say?” Lilith said. She was trying to separate what she felt for that woman from her voice, and she was doing well, disdain for her considered. Really, fussing over every little detail of her daughter was one thing but the fact that the concern she displayed was not for said daughter but for her future husband was something she couldn’t forgive. Still, she kept her language plain and her tone neutral. Most people didn’t take kindly to other’s insulting their mothers.

“Oh, I haven’t told her.” The way Eve’s voice trembled when she said that “oh” sent arrows through her heart, the dread palpable and utterly unnerving. “She hasn’t asked yet and I didn’t have a good time to bring it up so I’ll just wait for her to say something. Maybe she’s assuming I joined the book club again?”

A lie by omission was better than an outright one but it was a lie nonetheless and the guilt of it didn’t do much to ease the girl’s tension, though the fact that she would be able to avoid that conversation for a while longer did.

“Speaking of books,” Lilith coughed, deciding to change the topic before Eve withdrew into her mind “what did you guys do in that club? Just read all day and discuss books? Is there even anything good in that library?”

“Well, most of it is theology and reference books, yeah, but those can be good! There are a few volumes of Sherlock Holmes near the history section! It’s not a complete collection at all but definitely better than nothing.”

She could already feel the dopey grin making it’s way onto her face. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, Lilith would be hard pressed to find a time Eve had been this happy about anything. Unbridled joy was a good look on everyone. The gleam in their eyes that only came from a genuine liking for something, the way they’d gesticulate, unable to contain all their passion.

Granted, Eve didn’t gesture so much as flap her hands about, but while joy looked good on everyone, it also looked different in everyone and Lilith found this eccentricity of hers adorable to no small degree.

“They have Phantom of the Opera tucked away somewhere near this compilation of Edgar Allan Poe I’ve been able to read a few times. A bit macabre but still good! Oh, you know they have books on gardening, too! I can show you next time we go and you can check out one or two if you want! The ones on herbs was fun but I think you’ll find the one on flower language an interesting read. It’s not exactly about gardening, but still. Did you know that the way you tied a bouquet could completely change the meaning of all the flowers you were trying to send?”

She spoke in a mix of short, rapid-fire sentences and long-winded rants, switching with no real pattern, rambling and occasionally straying to go on a tangent about a specific book or mention something about gardening, none of which Lilith understood, being unable to name any flowers by appearance other than rose, daisy, and sunflower, though she listened eagerly nonetheless.

“But back to books! Near the back, just by the cookbook – oh, and um, don’t tell anyone but –” Eve scooted her wooden chair across the wooden floor, mindlessly brushing Lilith’s hair back, placing her lip just two centimeters scant of her ear. “There are books hidden there, by older girls, I think. Ones that graduated a really long time ago.”

Eve’s ivory-like hands cupped the small space around Lilith’s ear, shielding their words from any listening ears, anything that happened behind her hands hidden from prying eyes. In the midst of her whispering, she realized she could kiss Lilith; a gentle peck on the shell of her ear. No one needed to know. Just a quick press of the lips, it wouldn’t take longer than a second… or two.

And though she ignored the impulse, the thought lingered.

“Love poems and romance novels. I’m pretty sure they wrote it all themselves. Two of them are just a bunch of papers with holes punched in the side tied together by string, no cover. Technically more manuscript than book but you know what I mean. The others are leather bound journals, hand-written.”

“No kidding?” The other asked, hushed, nothing anyone further than Eve would catch. She didn’t dare say it louder, both unwilling to let anyone eavesdrop on them and scared that the excessive movement of her jaw would lead Eve farther from her.

“Nope, they’re there.” She pulled away from the girl’s ear but didn’t bother to move her seat back to where it was, their legs pressed together beneath the table they shared. “I haven’t been able to read much of any of them cause I’m scared I’ll get too absorbed to notice anyone walking past but their poems are really good! I can show you sometime, along with the gardening books.”

“We can go there later, during lunch. I’ll keep watch for while you read.”

The offer turned the girl’s waning grin into a megawatt smile, dimpled and rosy cheeked, she looked like a Raphaelite painting, a masterpiece.

“Really?”

“Sure! I’m always up for a bit of casual disobedience.” She replied with a wink and a deep chuckle, using amusement as a cover for endearment.

“Holy cow, thank you so much! But I’m pretty sure we’re not actually breaking any rules, I–”

Smack!

“Everyone bring out your composition notebook! We’re going to use the rest of homeroom to learn how to read sheet music before proceeding to the music room so if you want to fool around on the piano you’d best master this quickly.”

With that, Eve jerked away from Lilith, bringing her chair along with her and causing a loud, grating noise to make it’s way through the now silent room, every head whipping around to face them, the eyes now bearing into them, mostly shocked, some irritated, with one judgmental look from the front, from Sister Bernadette.

“No movement of chairs unless otherwise stated!”

“But-”

“Put the seat back where it was immediately or get detention!”

Lilith then pulled the girl down into her seat, cutting off another protest and brought the seat back to where it was before the nun entered, effectively ridding all the space between them.

Only when the woman turned to face the blackboard did she whisper to Eve: “Don’t argue, even if they’re wrong. They’ll just call it disrespectful and send you to the principal’s.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I’m just not used to getting yelled at here so I wasn’t sure about– I didn’t know what to do. Sorry, again…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She gave the blonde a teasing jab along with a soft smile, looking at the girl only from the corner of her sky blue eye so as not to invoke the further ire of the clearly on-edge teacher. “’Sides, the jokes on them. They’re still wrong and we get to stay like this. That’s a win-win if I’ve ever seen one, yeah?”

Eve huffed, a small laugh, in part a sort of thanks for the given consolation, in part a sort of reassurance to the other that she’d be okay, that she’d bounce back.

“Yeah.”

In the end, they weren’t able to go to the music room.

...

The hours passed, only a few words passing between the girls every so often, most of it questions related to the work they were assigned. They were careful, Eve unwilling to anger any other authority figures, Lilith trying to fly under the radar, admittedly rather afraid of being called into Mother Cecilia’s office over even trivial matters, knowing it would lead to yet another interrogation regarding the fire.

But finally, the lunch bell rang, granting them freedom and the ability to be enthusiastic without repercussion. (As long as they weren’t too noisy, of course.) All the anticipation and excitement led to Eve shooting out of her chair and practically sprinting to the library, books shoved haphazardly into her book bag as Lilith followed not too far behind her, pleasantly surprised at her actions, though with more emphasis on the pleasant and not so much on the surprised.

“It’s right this way,” The blonde said, not bothering to drop her bag down in her usual seat as they ventured deeper into the library.

Eventually, they reached the deepest, mustiest park of the library, all the shelves covered in a thin sheen of dust save for a single row level with their knees. The sun streaming in from the arching windows only served to accentuate how unkempt the place was, illuminating the dust particles that flew into the air when Eve took to her knees to retrieve the books she spoke so eagerly about.

“The last time I’ve been able to peek at them was a few weeks before summer, so sorry for the dust. You’re not asthmatic, right?” She pulled out a few of the recipe books, setting them aside before reaching in deeper to grab a stack of papers, bound with string, it’s outer most page containing nothing more than a title and a name. Sticking her arm in a bit more, she pulled out two leather journals, putting them down atop the manuscript before taking a few more cookbooks from the shelf and grabbing the last journal along with manuscript type book.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Lilith crouched down next to her, looking at the stack Eve made. The paper ones were practically identical save for a difference in thickness while the leather-bound books varied in colour, one the usual coffee brown, the other a matte black, and the last one a fine, wine-red.

“So, how’d you find all this anyway?” The redhead asked, taking the brown book from the stack, flicking through a random page and instantly regretting it as a cloud of dust came from it, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit, Eve rushing to her and patting her back as her lungs tried to expel themselves through her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not asthmatic?”

“Eve, I’m not sure how to break it to you, but anyone that gets hit with a face-full of dust is gonna cough a bit. I’ll live.”

“Good point.” She reached over to her bag and took a tumbler from it. “Water?”

Lilith’s fingers brushed against Eve’s as the dark green bottle switched hands, reminiscent of the brief touch they shared the first time they met, on that fateful, windy day in the courtyard.

“Thanks.”

There were a handful of things she expected to happen today, things she prepared an appropriate response for. Watching Lilith gulp down water like a dying man, seeing her throat work with every sip, eyes following the stray drops that rolled down her chin and her neck, making it’s way to the opening of her shirt before finally stopping, absorbed by the fabric that now clung to parts of her chest, was evidently not one of those things.

“T-thanks to you, too… Lilith.”

The girl in question merely raised an eyebrow and snorted.

“If you wanted to start with this book, you could’ve just said so.”

Lilith passed the book she was holding to her, instead grabbing the red one and holding it out an arm’s length away and flapping it about, effectively getting most of the dust out.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, content to exist in the same space, unburdened by the unspoken as they read. Sock-clad legs parallel to each other, pressed flush against the flesh, they looked so similar to how they did yesterday, this morning.

Lighter, though. Somehow.

Perhaps it was the lack of looming dread, the weight of anxiety gone from Eve’s mind, for now at least. Perhaps it was the lack of fear, Lilith’s worry for Eve gone, again, if only for now.

...

As Eve went on, she became enamored by the prose, the delicate descriptions crafted from simple every day life and feelings, invested by the admittedly somewhat familiar protagonist, Nina, and her best friend, Rosalie, or as Nina would so fondly call her, Rosie.

Bit by bit, though, things were changing between them. Or maybe they haven’t changed at all and she was just blind to it. Either way though, things became different, odd, queer.

“I carded my hands through her soft, black hair just like I had so many times before. “Will you braid it for me?” She asked, lifting her head from off my lap, resting on her elbows. Not quite lying down, not quite sitting up.”

She couldn’t help but think that the first sentence implied something.

“Rosalie would get her blazer dirty, stomach pressed into the grass as she traced patterns on my lap, the fabric of my skirt shifting, spiraling. “Of course,” I couldn’t say no if I wanted to, but why would I even consider refusing her?”

The way Nina spoke about Rosalie, the way Rosalie spoke to her in turn, the affection they showed to each other, the way she would describe Rosalie in text was akin to that of love… romantic love.

Eve brushed the thoughts aside though, knowing she was probably just projecting her own perversions on the perfectly normal, heterosexual girls.

“We sat there and spoke of the future, a house deep in the woods, an aged, fat cat. Preferably a tabby. I plucked flowers, giving them a new home with her as I wove it into the braid. Call me sacrilegious but she looked like a God, of-the-earth, of me. She was my God. I’d get in trouble if I ever said that out loud. But then again, I’d get in trouble for practically everything I did with Rosie”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t just Eve.

“After finishing the braid, I took a compact mirror from my pocket. “What do you think?” She giggled, deep, brown eyes looking around at the empty field before shimmying over to me, laying a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely.” She moved once more, settling on my lap, lips trailing across my forehead, my eye, my nose, my cheek. Tease. At long last, though, her lips met mine, pressing against me with a soft passion-”

She dropped the book, hands by her head as a sort of surrender to whatever god may be watching her, judging her, face flushed, chest heaving.

Lilith looked up from her book. “You okay?”

She read that. She enjoyed that.

That knowledge was the straw that broke the camel’s still recovering back.

The guilt from yesterday and everyday before that built up in her lungs, drowning her, hastening her hellish damnation. Her thoughts were consumed by apologies and prayers and pleas for a mercy she wasn’t deserving of.

Tears fell from her face like angels from the sky, a testament to her sins, her guilt.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Suffocating, stifling, sinful guilt.

Crashing down on her as if she was being smitten, painful and shameful and rightful guilt.

She sobbed and shook, hands over her mouth to stop herself from wailing her anguish, her agony, her guilt.

But a pair hands weren’t enough to contain everything in her and all that spilled out. Nothing was.

Whimpers escaped through the gaps of her fingers, Lilith forgetting her shock and rushing over to comfort her.

It only made her cry harder. Lilith’s touch burned.

Eve clung to her though, rising to her knees, hands clutching at Lilith’s shirt.

It was yesterday all over again.

It was worse.

She couldn’t deny what she was anymore. Every passing second made it harder to craft lies and alibis and that would be a sin too and she’d go to hell regardless.

Burying her face in the crook of Lilith’s neck in a futile attempt to silence herself, Eve could smell the sweet, apple cinnamon perfume the girl had sprayed on earlier.

The way the scent made her face flush, even with everything going on and everything she was feeling was sick.

It twisted her stomach.

She felt disgusting, sinful, wrong, guilty.

But as she sobbed and shuddered and breathed the scent in…

It twisted her stomach.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

...

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eve.” She whispered, soft, the words meant for one person and one person only.

Lilith wasn’t a naturally soothing person. Never in her life did she have to console someone in such a way, her friends all preferring to be distracted from their sorrows by quips and jokes. This was different, though. Eve was different.

Eve made her soft and kind to a degree she could hardly fathom. Gone was her icy exterior and harsh features, traded in for a comforting smile and gentle hands.

The girl sobbed and prayed into her shoulder, unable to hear her over muttered prayers and the sound of her own heartbeat, a frantic thump in her heaving chest.

From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like Eve was the one doing the comforting, seeming to pray over Lilith in a manner akin to that to someone being exorcised, a two-person prayer circle.

“Eve,” She whispered, gently trying to pry the girl away from her so she could talk, immediately stopping when the blonde only cried harder at the gesture. “I’m gonna need you to take deep breaths, Eve. Can you do that for me, please?”

The girl hiccupped, body wracked by sobs though clearly trying to follow.

“That’s right, just like that.”

Lilith’s spindly hands made her way up and down Eve’s back in tranquil motions.

“Wanna tell me what’s making you cry? I won’t tell anyone not even Paula and Joan.”

Eve shook her head, not even lifting her head from the crook of Lilith’s neck, her tip of her nose drawing a line from where her neck sloped down to her shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea-ah…”

Breathing still ragged, eyes still red-rimmed, cheeks still tear-stained, she pulled away from Lilith, sniveling.

“I’m s-sorry, I don’t know why I’m even crying-”

She cut the blonde off, though. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. But please don’t lie to me. You know why you’re crying. I’m not gonna make you talk about it, but you know.”

“Okay.” Eve whispered, a sort of willing surrender.

It was evident to Lilith that she wanted to talk. Shame held her back, unfortunate and burdensome. She didn’t speak, instead picking up the book from where it fell, opening to the page she had last read, finger tapping the paragraph before sliding the book across the small gap between them.

She skimmed over the paragraph and a few thereafter, finding nothing of note until she finally saw what Eve meant.

“This is what you were crying over?”

All she got in response was a nod, the girl looking to be on the brink of tears again.

“Why?”

Eve shook her head again. Her lip trembled, jutting out like a child trying their best not to cry.

“If I guess right will you tell me?”

Nothing.

“Want me to stop?”

Again, there was no reply.

“Can you tell me what you want me to do?”

A shrug of the shoulders. Nothing else.

“Do you know what you want me to do?”

She shook her head no, a few tears going with it. The only thing that left her mouth was a shaky sigh as she carded her hands through her hair. Tired. Eve looked tired. She was all that and more.

Lilith looked away from her, the pity she felt too much. There was nothing she could do. If only for a moment, she felt the degree of helplessness Eve felt, knowing she couldn’t help. It wasn’t foreign to her, helplessness. It was like seeing an old friend.

She could never bring herself to be angry or even annoyed at what was happening to Eve. Not when it’s happened to her, to Paula, to Joan, to Julia, to Colette.

Lost in thought, she was snapped back to reality as Eve dragged her closer, making her face away as the girl hugged her from behind.

Eve cried into her. It wasn’t the way she cried mere minutes ago, however. It was calmer, no hiccups or shaking. Only tears streaming down the girl’s face and soaking into Lilith’s shirt with a sniffle every once and a while.

Time passed and Lilith grew bolder, hand wandering to where Eve’s were wrapped around her stomach. Her touch was tentative, Eve’s hand treated like a fine porcelain piece.

“Is this okay?”

“No.” She said.

But she didn’t push Lilith’s away, instead opting to hold it, their fingers weaving together, slotting together as if their very flesh and bone were sculpted to be together, to intertwine, to love.

How cruel of God to craft two people for each other the turn to create a world were they were not to be.

“None of this is okay.”

______________________

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