#while i knew in my heart i just couldn't do it

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 7

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away. 

But…nothing of that sort had happened.

“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.

Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then. 

Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.

And they didn’t fight. About anything. 

It was...weird. 

She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened. 

He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment. 

Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…

She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.

Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.

Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.

He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her. 

And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer. 

Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.

She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.

They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.

It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...

And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.

But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe. 

It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

And if Azriel was there…well.

The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.

Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness. 

He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.

But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.

After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.

She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.

He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.

He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.

Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..

Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.

It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.

Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.

Being with him was so easy.

So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.

That was probably the most startling thing.  

Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.

“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.

She hummed in answer.

“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.

“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.

Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book? 

“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”

Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.

She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.

Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."

“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh. 

“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her. 

Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph. 

But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta. 

So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book. 

Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.

Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."

Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.

“You are very welcome,” she said simply.

He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

***

“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.

Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch. 

"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around. 

It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.

If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.

"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.

Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn. 

Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.

"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.

Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.

Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now." 

Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.

Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.

Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.

Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.

Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.

Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy. 

 Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.

Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.

Just for Sky. 

Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.

And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.

Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.

"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.

"No, thank you.  Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.

"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.

"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.

"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.

Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.

Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.

"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.

"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.

"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him. 

"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.

"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.

Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.

Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.

He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well? 

Apparently Azriel was.

*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want. 

But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*

Maybe in another life. But not in this one.

*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.

Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.

*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.

He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions. 

*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.

And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.

Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.

He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult. 

*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*

It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.

But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.

He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.

Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.

 Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor.  Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.

Sky mattered. 

Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows. 

Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky. 

"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.

Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.

He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.

"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.

"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.

Cassian sighed.  "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.

Huh.

It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.

How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?

Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.

And he did love her. So fucking much.

It was so easy to be with her. So easy.

Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.

She even accepted the shadows.

Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.

She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.

It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.

And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.

But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.

It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.

He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy. 

And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.

Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation. 

He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.

Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.

Thank the cauldron for that. 

Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…

“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.

“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon. 

Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta. 

Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.

He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.

“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.

“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.

"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."

“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.” 

Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."

“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.

“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."

“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”

Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel. 

Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.

“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.

“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”

“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.

"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…

“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.” 

He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment. 

For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up. 

“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.

“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed. 

Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.

“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.” 

Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."

Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”

[multipleoccupancy]

The Inspector nodded to Violet as she greeted him and then gave a short and quiet hum of agreement at her dismissive reply. Taking mental notes of her attitude and deciding he didn't much like it but she was at least holding her own for now and had not done anything outwardly troubling. He turned his attention back to Theo who was still considerably uncomfortable but had put his hand on Mauve's as it rested on his shoulder.

"I work for an organisation who specialise in things like this," he gestured to the monster on the floor, "I and many other agents strive tirelessly and endlessly to keep people safe and on more than several occasions already saved these United States and even the world from this danger and I think that you," he pointed to Theo specifically for now, "might be the sort of person who could help us."

Theo looked over at Mauve, amazement in his eyes as it had been exactly what they had talked about, an official branch helping to save the world from monsters! Their agent idea had already been done and here was a man offering it all to them... or just to him? He looked back to the agent.

"Now I have an offer to make you. You can come with us and we are interested in putting you through school, getting you into the FBI Academy for you to follow that path which you have expressed previously. We'll wipe everything clean, you'll be cleared as innocent and wrongly interned in this ward so that you can walk around free and innocent. Your parents won't have to pay a cent, you will be sponsored through collage and you will work hard to achieve the results necessary to become an FBI agent." The inspector waited for a moment while Theo clearly observed him, he was after all the man who had put him inside in the first place and he was offering him everything he wanted on a plate, just like that. "On the condition that you work for us. You do as we say, you protect our secret from everyone including family and friends, no one can know. You do exactly as you are told and follow every instruction we issue you to the letter."

The Inspector knew that was less appetising as an end point but he leaned forward and looked Theo directly in the eye, ignoring Violet completely for now, she wasn't who he was after. "Or," his voice had dropped to a more threatening tone, "you can stay in here and become nothing more than a drooling mess until the end of your life. Stuck with absolutely no way out. You will stay here, where no one will believe you, where you will one day get one shock therapy session too many." He eyed Theo who gulped loudly, terrified of that thought and squeezing Violet's hand on his shoulder. "This is a one time offer, lad. What's it going to be?"

Theo opened his mouth but it was dry inside, it was as if he had just lost his voice, the man had offered him everything he had ever wanted and now was threatening to force him through his worst nightmare. However, he couldn't leave Mauve. "My friend helped me, Mauve needs to come too." He insisted, "We both deserve to be out of this ward. Please, promise me that she will be freed with me." The Inspector's lip curled and he looked to Violet, one eye brow raised.

"She will have her own deal." He said lowly and then offered his hand out for Theo to shake. "Now or never kid, I am not playing around, that deal has a time limit of seconds. You shake my hand and get out of here today or I get up, walk out and leave you here to rot." Theo's heart raced in his chest, his eyes were wide and his breath was almost frozen in his lungs, stinging him and aching at every bruise, shock, or most recently stab and bite he'd ever had in that ward. He couldn't go through more of it and with Mauve getting her own deal to leave, Theo took the Inspector's hand and shook it.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet quickly fell asleep, but she woke up just as fast, startled by a nightmare. After that, she didn't dare fall back asleep, discreetly observing the orderly as he cleaned up the whole cell. It wasn't too hard to pretend to be asleep, lying down next to Theo. After a while, the cell was perfectly clean (save for the dead monster in the corner), but Violet wished the orderly would have given them clean pajamas too. She was still covered in blood, but it had dried up now, forming an uncomfortable layer over her skin.

With her eyes half-closed, she noticed the two men as they stood outside the room. Violet didn't know who they were, but she assumed they were the Delta Green agents sent to offer Theo his "deal". When the orderly went to wake Theo up, she didn't bother acting as if she was sleeping, simply sitting up on the bed.

Theo's warning confirmed her thoughts: this was a Delta Green agent. But not just any agent. The agent who had framed Theo and sent him to the ward. Her look hardened, and she put a protective hand on Theo's shoulder.

The man sat in front of them, introducing himself. "Hello, inspector," she replied coldly. Violet was unmoved by the agent's praise. She really didn't care if he was impressed! As far as she was concerned, he was a wicked man. But she knew she couldn't make a scene, and risk Theo's deal in the process. She had to grit her teeth and swallow all the things she really wanted to say.

"It ain't our first rodeo," she replied dismissively, hinting at Theo's first monster encounter, and her own "encounter", which was in her file.

[pricesprincess]

part two to this | angst | part three coming soon...

later that evening dinner was served and simone was bathed with her pjs on as she settled into the couch under a mountain of blankets holding her tablet while face timing simon who answered on the first ring with a smile that was reserved just for his little girl.

"hello, princess. i miss you already, are you all for bed?"

it hurt hearing simon talk so quietly like that and seeing him so torn up made your heart sink to your stomach and all the way down to your toes like a weight on fishing line. "i am! do you think you can you come over for dinner? mom made your favorite!" simone asked.

from where you stood in the kitchen you heard the silence fill the video call as you glanced down and sure enough you were making what you were so used too, even after months of the separation you were still doing things for him to make his life easier.

simon mulled the question over his head, and while he does respect you, his daughter wanted to see him and that came before anything.

"tell your mum i'll be there soon, i love you."

simone hung up her tablet and put it in her cubby before running to the kitchen, her lips tugged into a bright smile as she clapped her little hands together. "daddy is coming for dinner!" she announced.

when you and simon had separated she had asked if you still loved her daddy and without a second of hesitation you told her you always would no matter what but she was too young for the rest of it.

she came closer to stand by you, her arms wrapping around your legs as you bent down to kiss the top of her head earning a glare so similar to simon's. "my hair mommy! i want to look pretty for daddy!"

you couldn't help but chuckle a little and crouch down to her height as you took hold of her hands. "baby girl, you are the prettiest already to him, why don't you put on a dress then?" you suggested softly.

simone skipped off to her bedroom down the hallway as you finished up dinner feeling a soft flutter in your belly, like butterflies while you waited for your date to show up, but in this case it was your husband.

when he had flat out refused to sign the papers you thought about using one of the fighting moves on him that he showed you but instead you left your shared home with your daughter.

simon truly never felt like his nickname until the first night being alone without his girls giggling and doing each other's makeup, now it's just silence that keeps him awake, it was all overwhelming.

ten minutes later simone came strutting from her room complete in the princess attire, the glittering crown she wore matched the array of purples in the dress and the plastic shoes as well. "is he here yet?"

"not yet baby, i'm sure he will be soon though. do you still have that card for him?" you asked while setting the small dining room table up for three, the image was enough to make your heart flutter.

perhaps you and simon could work this out.

the card simone bought in the store as you shopped for dinner was something she hasn't been able to stop talking about since then nor could she stop bragging to everyone at the store about her dad.

she zoomed to her room then back to the kitchen holding the white envelope with a grin as she bounced back and forth unable to hide the excitement even though she just got done spending a weekend with simon, he truly was her hero and number one, same for you.

to pass time you cleaned up while simone got on her tablet to watch an episode of her show before asking you were simon was.

an hour passed and no calls or texts, dinner was now cold and you were irritated and disappointed. heating the food up you ate in silence with simone who kept glancing at the door with sad eyes.

you wanted to punch simon in the throat for getting her hopes up and you wondered what it was that kept him from coming over because you knew that him seeing simone was the most important thing to him.

another phone call and more unread texts later you finally helped simone out of her dress and into some pjs before tucking her into bed and reading a story. "why didn't daddy come? does he love us?"

her question made you tense as you perched on the side of her bed, simon and love could be like oil and water sometimes, his version of love was never something like this so he tried his best.

"of course, he does honey bug. i think he got caught up into something which happens, he loves you so very much sweet girl."

her blue eyes watered before flowing over down her cheeks as she clutched the rainbow teddybear simon gave her a few months ago.

even at her tender young age simone was beyond smart.

"why can't daddy live with us?" her question wasn't aimed to hurt but you could feel the physical pain bloom in your chest then your throat formed a lump as you fought back the tears as well.

you cleared your throat and brushed her hair back. "it's a lot baby, ok? just get some rest and tomorrow is a new day." you told her and kissed the top of her head before standing up.

making sure her nightlight was turned on you had to fight off the torrent of tears that threatened to break like a dam as you listened to simone sniffle and bury herself deeper under her blankets.

once the door shut with a soft click you quickly made it to the living room and tapped at the screen, each one a flame adding to the raging fire building inside you from simone being stood up.

as much as you hated to say it you were used to it, from the beginning of the relationship there were enough missed dates and anniversaries to fill years old calendar you were sure but you love simon enough to over look all of that, none of it mattered.

that is until you had simone and while it was just you at first you couldn't stand to see your daughter go through the same feelings or have consuming thoughts of whether he'll come or not.

voicemail. again.

you dropped on the couch and rubbed your face before dialing john's number.

voicemail.

soap, same thing.

taking a steadying breath you pushed aside the what-ifs that you've battled for years and tried to keep calm. why the hell isn't he answering his phone? you kept repeating over and over again.

then finally, kyle answered.

"kyle...hi, do you know where simon is?" you asked immediately, not even giving the man to say hello or anything, suddenly your mouth went dry waiting for his answer. "kyle? hello?" you pressed again.

[koolades-world]

this piece is based off this post, which you can find here. I had heard it as an audio at first actually and fell in love with it. it's kind of essential for this read. it's basically talking about how before their loved one guessed their favorite color was yellow, they didn't have one. after that, yellow was special! sooo cute and i though luci fit in perfectly as the speaker!!! if you were tuned yesterday for my solomon birthmarks fic, this is two out of my four ideas! i had one more in my drafts that i decided to throw in for fun

so so excited to write this. so fluffy!!!

the color of happiness

"Don't forget about your coffee, Mc." Lucifer nudged the cup towards you, acting as a gentle reminder of it's existance.

"Right, right. Just let me finish this thought." You were laser focused on the paper you were in the middle of planning. You were desperate to get all the thoughts out before you inevitable got distracted and forgot everything.

"I don't mean to dissuade you from your schoolwork, but it's getting cold." He chuckled at your half assed attempt to wave him off.

"You can just reheat it with magic." You stuck out your tongue ever so slightly as you scribbled.

"And what if I can't?" Lucifer was practically enchanted with your little mannerisms.

"You can and would. I know you. You'd find a way to make it happen for me." Despite how smug you sounded, he knew you were right. He'd jump through however many hoops as he had to for you.

There was no coming back from your words, so he went back to his own work. By the time he'd restarted, you'd stopped for a break, and were ready to bug him.

"On that note, I feel like I know so much about you, yet so little at the same time." You held the mug in one hand, the other underneath your chin as you gazed up at him.

"What prompted this?" Lucifer set down his pen despite just having gotten back to work. He'd felt like the two of you knew each other quite well. You'd been through thick and thin together, even defied death at each others side.

"Let's play twenty-one questions!" You ignored his question. Perhaps you just wanted an excuse to hear his voice.

"Alright. I can't say I've played before, but I know of it." He found himself smiling again, as he often did around you.

"It's easy! We just ask each other questions to get to know each other better."

"Which one of your brothers is your favorite?" You asked. He hadn't been expecting such a hard hitter of a question at first

"Must I answer?" He joked.

"Come on! Alright, then which do you hate the least?" You suppressed laughter.

"Do not shout this from the rooftops, but, Mammon." He already knew how'd you'd react, but he still found himself amused when you inevitably did.

"I knew it!" You celebrated, throwing your arms in the air. "Alright, your turn."

He absentmindedly messed with his gloves. "What is your favorite part of human world?" Lucifer had thought hard about that question. You seemed too enthusiastic about the entire thing, and he couldn't help but cave.

"That's an easy one! The sunrise. I would almost never wake up in time for it, but it's so beautiful." Your eyes sparkled. He made a mental note to plan a surprise trip to the human world for you. "I've actually been dying to know the answer to this next question for a while now."

"Oh? Ask away then." Lucifer was curious. There was a lot a human could want to ask the Lucifer Morningstar. You already knew his story, but there was a lot to be asked about what the Celestial Realm was like, or what having his power was like. But instead you asked him,

"What's your favorite color?"

The question hit him like a shot to the heart. He should've known you weren't interested in anything but him, for who he was. For once, he didn't know the answer a question as simple as that. He'd never really given it though. Maybe it was red? It was the color of his eyes, and the color of Diavolo. Maybe it was blue? That was the color of his sin. Maybe it was black? Everything he bought seemed to be in that color. Or, just maybe, it was that he didn't have one.

He floundered, his thoughts much more chaotic than what he let on. "Oh, wait! Let me guess!" He nodded, despite not knowing how he'd respond. You pursed your lips, deep in thought, when you burst out with what you thought was the answer.

"Yellow! It's yellow!" You placed a hand on his arm, eagerly awaiting his answer. You looked so full of joy, that somehow, made the answer seem correct to him.

"You're right." Lucifer nodded his head in confirmation.

"Knew it!" You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a side hug. After the inital shock, he hugged you back. "Yellow was already the best color, but now it's even better since it's your favorite too." The rest of your game, and break flew by.

But he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. How could he had been so blind to a color he saw everyday? After that, the color held a special meaning to him. Not only was it the color of his favorite brother, and the color of your favorite thing about the human world, it was also the color of you to him.

Yellow was never the same after that.

The runny yellow yolk of the sunny side up eggs tasted that little bit better. He wasn't upset when he saw a yellow ball of yarn roll out from Satan's room. The yellow umbrella you carried around always caught his eyes, and so did yellow devildom equivalent of roses he passed every day on his way to RAD in a way they hadn't before. He promptly bought them and presented them to you when you arrived after him. The smile you gave him and the way you buried your face in the flowers meant the world to him.

Yellow suited you.

[softieyuume]

Gentle Touch

✿ Sylus x fem!reader

✿ He got hurt protecting you. You return the favor by tending to his wounds.

✿ slight!angst/comfort. fluff. pre-established relationship.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

The soft touch of your hands on his skin sent a shiver down Sylus's spine, a stark contrast to the searing pain that had been consuming him just moments ago. He watched you through half-lidded eyes, admiring the way your hair fell across your face as you concentrated on your task of tending to his injuries.

*She's always been beautiful.* He mused silently, *But seeing her like this... it's different.*

Gone was the cold hostility that had once defined their interactions, replaced by a gentleness that made Sylus's heart ache in a way he never thought possible. He reached out with his uninjured hand, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"You know," He murmured, his voice low and rough, "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be touching me with such care."

You glanced up at him, your tired yet gentle eyes meeting his amused ones. A faint blush colored your cheeks, but you didn't look away.

"Don't read too much into it," You retorted, but there was no bite to your words. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Sylus chuckled, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. "Is that so? And here I thought you'd finally realized how much you need me."

He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't help himself. There was something about the way you looked at him now, something that made him want to test the boundaries of this newfound closeness.

You rolled your eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Don't push it, Sylus. You're in no position to be cocky."

"And yet," He drawled, leaning in closer with his hands resting on your sides on the bathroom sink where you sat, "You're still here, aren't you? Tending to my wounds like a dutiful nurse."

You huffed, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you continued your ministrations, your touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

Sylus let his eyes drift shut, savoring the moment. He knew it wouldn't last forever, that sooner or later they'd return to their roles as adversaries. But for now, he was content to bask in the warmth of your care, to let himself believe, even if just for a little while, that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between both of you.

"You're too reckless, Sylus," You frowned in frustration, unable to stop yourself from putting a bit of pressure on his wounded arm. "If you hadn't been so determined to protect me, you wouldn't be in this mess."

Sylus winced as your fingers probed a particularly deep gash, the sting of the disinfectant making his breath hitch. He knew he deserved your scolding, knew that he'd been reckless in the heat of the moment. But hearing your voice laced with frustrated concern, with a hint of something deeper, made his chest tighten in a way he wasn't used to.

"I didn't get hurt because of you," He muttered, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. "I got hurt because I was trying to protect you, kitten."

Your eyes narrowed, your brow furrowing in annoyance. "Protect me? By charging headfirst into an ambush without a plan? That's not protecting me, that's being a damn fool."

Sylus opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue as your hands stilled on his chest, right near his heart. You were looking at him with an intensity that made his heart race, your eyes searching his red ones as if trying to find the answers to questions you haven't yet asked.

"You can't keep doing this," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent lights. "You can't keep putting yourself in harm's way for me. I'm not worth it."

Sylus felt a surge of anger at your words, at the self-loathing that seemed to radiate off of you in waves. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Don't say that," He growled, his voice low and fierce. "You're worth everything to me, sweetie. Everything. And if that means taking a few bullets to keep you safe, then so be it."

Your eyes widened, your lips parting in surprise. For a moment, Sylus thought you might push him away, might tell him to go to hell. But instead, you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you let out a shaky breath.

"You're an idiot," You mumbled, but there was no heat behind your words.

Sylus smiled, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of your cheek and it took a tremendous amount of willpower to stop himself from taking you right then and there.

He didn't want to risk ruining what chance he could have with you, just having you near him brought him solace he desperately needed.

"Yeah," He agreed, his voice softening, resting his forehead against yours as he left out a shaky exhale. "But I'm your idiot."

And for now, that was enough.

[atimeofyourlife]

Go ahead, rip my heart out

Part 1 of my make it worse-before it gets better fic that I teased here

rated: t | wc: 1350 After 8x06, Buck crashes on Eddie's couch for the night. Eddie finds him the next morning presenting with cardiac symptoms on his couch.

"We must be getting old if just a few beers are leaving you looking like that." Eddie joked as he came into the living room to see Buck sat hunched over on the couch. He knew that it was more likely the events of the previous evening that had lead him to bringing over a six pack and then sleeping on Eddie's couch. He got concerned when Buck didn't respond, and he seemed to be struggling for breath, and not in a way that indicated that he'd been crying.

"Buck, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He asked, hurrying around the couch to kneel in front of Buck.

"Hurts." Buck gasped out, clutching at his chest.

"When did this start?" Eddie pulled his phone out of his picked, just in case he needed to call help.

"Few minutes." Buck replied, and Eddie winced at how short of breath he was.

"Okay, I'm just going to check your pulse." Eddie pressed his fingers to Buck's pulse point, and frowned. "There's some arrhythmia. I'm calling 911."

read more below the cut or on a03

"911, what's your emergency?" Eddie let out an involuntary sigh of relief when he didn't recognize the voice. He didn't know how he would explain it to anyone they knew.

"This is off duty firefighter Eddie Diaz. I need an RA unit to 4995 South Bedford Street. Patient is a thirty three year old male presenting with angina, shortness of breath, and arrhythmia. He has some history of heart problems after being struck by lightning two years ago, but has had a clean bill of cardiac health for around eighteen months. He also has a history of blood clots, about five years ago, caused by hardware in his leg from an injury."

"Okay, and what is the patient's name?"

"Evan Buckley. He's also a firefighter. He's my heavy rescue partner at the 118." He stopped for a moment as Buck slumped forward. "He's just fainted."

"Did he hit his head or fall into a position where he is potentially unsafe?"

"No. He was sitting on the couch and slumped forward. I caught him before he went down."

"Can you reposition him so he is lying down on the couch?

"Yeah. Give me a minute." He pushed on Buck's shoulders to get him to lie back, then pulled his legs round so he was flat on the couch. "Done."

"Okay. And do you know if he has taken anything in the last twenty four hours?"

"He's not currently on any prescription medication, and he doesn't use anything recreationally, because of the job. He was drinking last night, but we only split a six pack of beer."

"Can you unlock a door, the ambulance is just a few minutes out."

"Yeah." Eddie got up and practically ran to the front door, glancing back at the couch constantly. He unlocked the door and was back beside Buck in seconds. "The front door is unlocked, and opens right into the lounge."

Eddie kept an eye on Buck, reassuring him gently when he regained consciousness. A few minutes later, the door opened. "LAFD."

"Over here." He called back.

"We got him, Diaz." One of the paramedics said, kneeling next to him with a lifepak.

Eddie just nodded, and stood up. He realized it was the 133 there, so he was pretty familiar with most of the crew.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He came over with some beers last night and crashed on the couch. This morning when I woke up I found him on the couch hunched over. Shortness of breath, angina, arrhythmia. It came out of nowhere." He explained, watching as the paramedics hooked Buck up to the lifepak. He hadn't felt this scared for his best friend since the lightning strike.

"His blood pressure is pretty low too." One of the paramedics chimed in. "We need to take him in. His heart doesn't seem healthy right now."

He couldn't help feeling a little useless while they got Buck ready and loaded onto the gurney. He felt like that was his job, that he should be taking care of Buck. He made sure that he had both his and Buck's phones as well as his keys before following them out to the ambulance.

"M-Mad's-" Buck mumbled, reaching out towards Eddie.

"I'll call Maddie, I'll let her know." Eddie reassured him. "I'll ask her to meet us at the hospital. Don't worry about it."

--

The ride to the hospital was uncomfortable, but not the worst. He held Buck's hand tight and just let the paramedics work.

At the hospital, the paramedics took the lead to inform the medical team on what was happening, but Eddie cut in to add information about the lightning strike, history of blood clots, and Buck's allergies.

"Diaz." Captain Mehta called out as Eddie made to follow the team into the hospital. "Do you want me to inform Captain Nash?"

"No. I'll call him. I just need to call Buck's sister first." Eddie replied, before making his way inside. Calling Maddie to tell her that Buck was in the hospital again was never something he wanted to do.

Eddie tucked himself in the corner of the waiting area, knowing there were going to be a lot of tests they had to run for Buck to find out what was going on with his heart. He tried to get his thoughts in order before dialing Maddie's number.

"Hey, Eddie. What's up?" Maddie sounded cheerful, and he hated to break that for her.

"I, uh. I had to call an ambulance for Buck this morning. We're at First Presbyterian." He said, ripping off the painful part first.

"Why? What happened? Is Buck okay?" She sounded shocked.

"It's his heart. I don't know what's going on yet, we've only just got here." He explained. "He crashed at mine last night. When I woke up he was having cardiac symptoms. Angina, shortness of breath, arrhythmia. He fainted on my couch while I was on the phone to dispatch, and when the paramedics were there he had low blood pressure."

"Oh, my god." Maddie gasped. "I'm on my way. Should we call Tom-"

"No." Eddie said definitively. Knowing that having Tommy there could make it worse. "I. I think we should leave telling anyone else until we know more about what's going on."

"Okay. I'll be there soon. Thanks for letting me know, Eddie."

--

Eddie stayed sat in the corner, looking up every time someone moved, looking for Maddie, for Buck. For a nurse or doctor coming to inform him what was going on.

Maddie came hurrying in around thirty minutes after he'd called her. "Any updates?"

"Not yet." He replied. He wrapped an arm around Maddie for a brief hug. "I guess we just have to wait."

"I hate this. He-he's always in a hospital bed."

"I know. I hate it too." They fell into a silence as they waited, neither sure on how to fill it.

"Family of Evan Buckley?" Someone called after a while.

"That's us." Eddie said, both he and Maddie made their way over.

"I'm his sister, this is his best friend and one of his medical proxies." Maddie introduced.

"We've ruled out a heart attack, and it doesn't seem to be a delayed response to the lightning strike."

"Oh, thank god." Maddie murmured.

"But what was it?" Eddie asked.

"We have a few ideas, some more likely than others. There has been some recent stress on the heart, so I have to ask has he been through any recent major stressors? Physical or emotional."

"He's a firefighter and dislocated his shoulder on the job a few weeks ago. But other than that-" Maddie explained.

"His boyfriend broke up with him last night. It came out of nowhere." Eddie cut in.

"Tommy did what?" Maddie seemed shocked.

"He broke up with Buck. Some bullshit about being his first not his last."

"That does tie in with what our top theory is right now." The doctor replied. "We believe it's likely to be takotsubo cardiomyopathy. That's also known as-"

"Broken heart syndrome." Maddie finished, barely holding back tears.

[icarusredwings]

Silence

He was SO wrong.

Chapter 2.

Goodbye, my Canadian Swetheart.

Cw: Kidnapping, Straight up torture, Various cruel and unusual punishments, Descriptions of pain and wounds, Angst, Loss of healing factor, loss of voice, guilt, insecurity, crying, hostage situation.

Everything hurts.

Except.. It was a different type of pain. The kind he wasn't used to. Yeah, he's been used to the hilt and left out to dry in his own puddle of his blood before, but he laughed and spit out his own tooth that day. His large intestines hanging out of his body, soaking in the dirty rain like a fucked up steak marinade only to fillet the asshole who dared touch him without a safe word.

But not today. He wasn't healing today... or.. yesterday? What day was it? How long has he been here? Either way, his cells were on strike, holding up microscopic signs with ‘Hey ho we won't go!’ written on them.

A small snort came from his nose, the tiniest smile at the thought. You could torture him yeah but the only thing you're going to do is make him more crazy. Even he knew that. Hell! Everyone knew that!

So what was he trying to accomplish? I mean really, how much more fucked up could he make him?

He couldn't see much. The light above him is off the majority of the time, leaving him in complete darkness but never silence, the screams coming through the wall acting as white noise by now. But at the moment? It was on, swinging from the upstairs movement.

While he wasn't 100% sure? He thought the musty, mildew covered walls and how cold his toes were meant he was in a basement. How many flight's down? A million for all he knew. He had no clue how he even got here.

So now, as he sits, strapped and chained to the chair (that was bolted to the floor by the way) he is staring at the blank wall, studying each crack, wondering where each one came from.

They reminded him of the veins that came out of Logan's arms when he was really pissed off and red with anger. He found himself thinking about Logan a lot down here, his body heavy and his neck throbbing from the collars around it. The fucks had double collared him, keeping him tame and well behaved.

So what else was he supposed to do? Call out in hopes someone would slip from their training and come give him an opportunity to escape? But the top collar was too tight, two holes burned in the side of his neck from all the shocking with each noise he made louder than a whisper. Even a cough set it off.

He wondered, if he could speak now, would Logan come to him? Would he even hear him? Would he spare some time if he called? To come rescue his pathetic ass yet again?

Wade knew Logan loved him deep down, but he wondered if Logan even knew he was missing by now.. did he even care? Why SHOULD he care honestly? He was smart enough to know that Mr. Howlett was probably on the couch right now, unexpectedly waiting for him to come home…

And Honestly? He didn't blame him not one bit if he became buried deep in his memory, something that won't spark his attention until it's far too late.

He wondered- Would anyone come to his funeral? Would they even be able to find the body? Would Logan tell their friends about him? All the sweet gentle touches they shared? Each little date and stupid joke? Would he tell them the truth? Or would he lie and tell them how he saw him instead of how Wade saw himself..

He wondered if he could see the burning hole inside of him, that determination to keep himself from falling apart, how hard he was trying to be the best Deadpool for him.

Trying to prove to the world that he wasn't someone to wave a stick at, that he was a top notch hero just like the rest of them.. Could Logan see that?

Sure, the merc work paid well but what it did to his heart wasn't pretty. His morals have always been flexible. Too flexible.

Wade wanted to be a good person. It's why he listened to the stupid X-men to begin with. Stupid fucking virgin Colossus. Why did he have to go and make him feel like he was worth something? Like that 4 to 5 moments bullshit would actually work out in his favor?

He raised his hopes for nothing. Made him think that he too could be a hero that crowds cheered for when they saw him and kids would point him out and go “GASP!! Mommy it's Deadpool!” and he'd go “Damn right kid! Stay in school or.. whatever.”

Before kicking some major ass in front of them, to further prove just how cool he truly was. This was the only idea that was keeping him together at the seams.

To impress The Wolverine. HIS wolverine. To show him that he deserved to be on the team. One that's well respected and the government has no choice but to call HIM for help. Just a guy with regenerative cancer who really liked guns.

Well… now the ladder was only true but still. His point stood. Unlike him, whose legs were dull and numb from sitting so long in this piss scented concrete singular cell.

Tears came to his eyes as a terrible thought crossed his mind. How would he see him as a good hero if he would never see him again?

Now, he sits here, wondering about him.

He wished he could tell him what to do. Logan was good at this kind of thing. He was good at keeping calm and telling him what to do when he felt like this, when his body betrayed him with such unbearable pain. He would hold him and kiss him, tell him everything would be alright and somehow it always was.

Logan always made everything alright.

Logan has worked so hard to teach him how much he loved him, show him how to water it until it grew. And with just a bit of water and TLC, His rosey heart turned into something incredibly beautiful that he could hold in the palm of his big calloused hands once it blossomed.

Even with all its thorns, there was nobody better than him that he wanted to spend his (apparently) no longer eternal life with. Tears sting his dehydrated dry eyes as they drip down his cheeks, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, wishing this was all just a dream. But still he had the same request..

If only he could see Logan’s face again before he died… he'd be happy..

The heavy metal door opens, Sending just enough excitement through his body to sit his head up, looking at the man who was slowly walking towards him. Was he wrong?! Did he doubt him too much? Has he come to rescue him princess style and blow this place to smithereens while walking away in slow motion?

All he knew? There was only one other man that he wanted to see right now..

‘..Logan?’

[theunholybastard]

Bad Day (Papa Emeritus IV x Gender-Neutral!Reader)

Requested by @ollies-station !!! <3

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Is Hinted Trans But It's Pretty Vague, Mentions Of Body Dysmorphia/Dysphoria, 2nd Person POV

Copia hovered over you, paints smudged and halfway wiped off. He stopped in the middle of washing his face when he noticed something wasn't right with you. You lay face down in the bed, unmoving, just so done with life.

"Eh... t-tesoro, what's wrong?" Copia asks warily, head tilted like a confused puppy, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. He was never very good at comforting people. But you were the love of his life, how could he not at least try to be of help? He just can't stand to see you like this.

"Everything." You reply hoarsely, muffled by the pillow you were crying into earlier. You were hardly exaggerating, everything seemed to be going wrong and sending you further down a spiral. Not to mention, you've not been very kind to yourself today either. When you first woke up, things immediately felt off. You felt off. Looking into the mirror, you instantly felt dread, like something wasn't quite right with you. Deep rooted insecurities bubbled up to the surface, your body not feeling like your own. You just want the day to be over already, but every passing moment feels like eternity.

"Bad day, huh?" Copia sighs, sitting down on the bed with you, mindful to give you a little bit of space if you needed it. You finally lift your head up, and the sight makes Copias heart ache. Red, puffy face, tear stains down your cheeks, hair tussled and greasy. You hadn't even gotten a chance to shower that morning, notably the first sign today wasn't going to be all that great. You probably looked like a hot mess right now, but to Copia, you were the most beautifully ethereal being he'd ever laid his eyes on, no matter what state you were in.

"Is there anything I can do?" Copia asks concernedly, softly stroking your back with a gloved hand. "Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better."

"Maybe... But there's still so much stuff I have to do today-"

"Non importante. Whatever needs to get done today, I will do it for you. You've had enough stress put on you today, now it's time for you to relax. Now, tell your Papa what is wrong, okie dokie?"

You couldn't help yourself, airing out all your grievances to him. You spared no details, every little thing that went wrong and every little worry you had was brought to his attention, and he listened intently to every word. That was the one thing he's always been very good at. Listening. And he was right, it did make you feel a little better, especially with how earnest you could tell he was.

When it was all said and done, he said nothing at first, simply holding you close to his chest, his warmth and sweet smell of cologne quickly lulling you into a sense of security and comfort. You knew you always had a safe space with him.

"Bad days come and go, amore. You must keep in mind that this won't last forever. The good days will come back sooner than you think. And yes, maybe they will fleet sooner than you want them to as well, but the important thing is that they will come again. Look outside, tesoro..." You did as you were told, gazing out the window to see the sun slowly setting over the horizon.

"The day is almost over, you see? And tomorrow is a new day. A better day. Why don't you sit here for a moment and focus on that while I run you a nice relaxing bath, hm? I'll quickly run whatever errands you have left today, and after that I'll order some takeout for the two of us, how's that sound? I'll get you whatever you want."

"And... And can we maybe watch something after? And cuddle?" You sniffle. A comfort show would be great right now. He smiles. "Of course! Anything for my baby." He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling away to get up and do the tasks he promised. You quickly grab the lapels of his jacket, keeping him from leaving you so soon.

"Copia... You know you don't have to do this, right? I'll be fine, really." You murmur, self conscious and worried that you're asking too much of this sweet, perfect man you've somehow managed to claim as yours. He chuckled.

"I know, amore; I want to. I want to make you happy, I want to make things easier for you. Because I love you. Because you deserve that. Capisci?" He says, a gentle firmness in his soft-spoken voice. Hesitantly, you nod. Still, you don't let go of his jacket just yet.

"Could you stay with me for just a little while longer?" You ask, hopeful and bleary eyed. He grins.

"As long as you need, tesoro."

-

[mc-lukanette]

Luka knew that Marinette was Ladybug. Actually, he'd known for a while. What he didn't know was how long Marinette had known that he knew.

She didn't tell him so, but he saw it in how she reacted to him. She didn't feel as much need for excuses, often not saying anything before racing off as soon as there were signs of an akuma. He hadn't particularly done anything to dissuade the idea that he knew either, partly because it was true but also because he wasn't sure what to do with the information himself.

When he was certain she knew was a day on the Liberty where he'd found her idling on her phone. The other girls had headed up onto the deck, but Marinette had remained in the lounge room for whatever reason and he was genuinely curious about it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping up to her and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Luka!" She giggled innocently. "I didn't know you were here! You weren't playing anything."

"I was meditating," he said, though eyed her body language with suspicion. Her logic for not knowing he was around checked out, but he felt as if she wasn't telling the truth. He only ignored it because he couldn't figure out why she would lie about it.

"Oh. I'm just playing a new game that came out." She raised her phone as close to his face as she could.

He noted the main menu and the characters strewn about, recognizing them instantly as the superheroes that fought against akuma, such as Ladybug and even himself. He tilted his head to look past the phone at her, asking, "What's it about?"

She scooched to the side despite the already available space on the couch, then patted the spot where she'd been sitting. He wasn't a big fan of gaming himself, but he was a big fan of Marinette, so he sat in the spot she'd offered up and listened intently to her talk.

"You pick one character to start," she explained, indicating the various options on-screen, "and then the more levels you play, the more coins you get, and you can use it to buy upgrades or more characters."

"You buy characters?" He blinked.

She laughed, giving him a playful nudge in the arm. "You really don't play games, do you?"

His heart stuttered as she squished herself against him, allowing both of them a decent view of her phone. She tapped at the screen to proceed to the actual game and he tried very hard to focus on that and not the warmth to his side.

"It helps when you get a second character. You can pair them up and go on for longer since it's two instead of just one," she explained as she scrolled through various menus.

Luka also tried to not focus on the phrase 'pair them up,' which wasn't difficult at first, but then he saw the character selection screen and—

"Ladybug and Viperion," he noted.

"Hm~?" She stopped scrolling to point at the two. "Yeah, they're the pair I have."

"Only Ladybug and Viperion." That still wasn't a proper sentence, so he clarified, "You only have Ladybug and Viperion."

"Oh." She uttered it like she hadn't known when she definitely did. "Yeah? You only need two, so why should I waste my coins on anyone else when I could spend it upgrading the pair I have?"

He could think of multiple reasons. He wasn't sure how the game worked, but he imagined that the superheroes still had different powers and there were benefits depending on which two were paired up.

As if reading his mind, Marinette tapped the top edge of her phone to her chin and insisted, "Viperion's underrated. His power's not flashy, but it's really useful and he's perfect for someone like Ladybug."

His cheeks felt warm. What she was saying sounded like a casual observation of efficiency, but her voice was singing a different tune. The playful sparkle in her blue eyes as she peered up at him supported that.

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm~" She looked down at her phone again, then turned it to him to show the Ladybug and Viperion on the screen. "Their colors are even complementary. Don't they look good together?"

Never mind. His face felt hot. She even wiggled the phone at him, her smile shy but her gaze not leaving his as she waited for an answer.

Was this a punishment of sorts? Was he being tormented for not saying that he knew her identity? Was she really asking him such a thing when she already knew his feelings? Had she planned this, and that's why she was alone?

He opened his mouth, then decided he needed another second to think and cleared his throat instead. "Wouldn't that be up to them?"

It seemed like an obvious answer, but her smile widened further as if he'd passed a test. He didn't think she was actually testing him, but something of his did certainly feel tested: his sanity.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Marinette sighed, pulling away from him to slump against the backrest. Taking one more look at her phone and scrutinizing the image on the screen, she asked, "Do you think Viperion would be patient enough for someone like her?"

Caught off guard, he turned his body to better face her. "What?"

"For Ladybug. She must be busy since she's always dealing with akuma," she pointed out, waving a hand outwards, "so they wouldn't be able to date until she's dealt with Hawk Moth."

For a second, he thought she was continuing to tease him, but then it clicked for him what she was building to. She'd been playful, yet was using the conversation to tell him that they wouldn't be able to date.

Which meant that she reciprocated, something his brain was still scrambling to process, but she also felt like she couldn't act upon it due to Hawk Moth. Talking about Ladybug and Viperion as separate entities had been to keep things safe in case any of the girls returned while serving as a way of mentally distancing herself from it. It was an unpleasant realization to wrestle with against the delight of knowing that she felt the same as he did.

"I'm..." He reached over, slipping his hand over the one holding her phone. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, no matter how busy she was."

To his confusion, she shook her head almost adamantly. He wondered if perhaps she was going to argue that 'Viperion' wouldn't mean it if he was to say such a thing, but she instead said, "I think Ladybug would want better for him than that; she'd want to be able to put herself into the relationship without Hawk Moth in the way." She stared at their hands on her phone with a soft smile. "Besides, I bet it'd be a motivator."

He leaned closer, noting how her voice had lowered in volume. "How?"

With a sheepish giggle, she replied, "Wouldn't Ladybug want to defeat Hawk Moth that much more if she knew the reward was getting to ask her future boyfriend out?"

His heart pounded, his hand on hers giving off a slight shake. What had started as a bit of joking around had grown into something more heartfelt and serious, with him suddenly wondering if Ladybug could use any of his input on how to best find out Hawk Moth's identity.

Chuckling affectionately yet with just as much longing as her, he promised, "If Ladybug is even half as amazing as he already thinks, Viperion will beat her to it when Hawk Moth's gone."

[procyonloser]

Pt 6

Lucifer's head was still pounding as they filed out of the bar, pushing between groups of people. Lucifer was trying to say sorry, excuse me, pardon me - but Adam was tall enough to just push through everyone, tugging Lucifer along behind him.

Lucifer hadn't been to a concert in ages, and the last few times he'd been to one, they'd been classical music productions, rather than rock bands on a makeshift stage in a bar filled with smoke, only some of which was tobacco. His lungs burned, and welcomed the fresh air as they left, but Lucifer couldn't say he didn't enjoy himself. Maybe it wasn't his exact taste, but it made him feel young again, and watching Adam rock out to the music beside him was a pleasant enough experience.

They got aways down the sidewalk, and slowed down, night air biting at them after the stuffiness of the bar.

"Did you hate it?" Adam asked him, finally letting go of Lucifer's hand, like he'd just realized he was still holding it.

"No, I just haven't done anything like that in ages." Lucifer said with a small laugh, though he missed the body contact. "You know I'm a judge, right?"

Adam paused, staring at him with slightly wide eyes. No, clearly he did not.

"Aren't you too young for that?" Adam asked, eyebrows knit together. "You look like, 22."

"I'm 35," Lucifer said slightly wearily. It wasn't uncommon for people to underestimate his age, given his height and face. He still got carded everywhere he went with alcohol.

"Oh," Adam blinked. "I'm 29."

"Hi, 29, I'm dad." Lucifer said, without thinking about it, turning red shortly after. Adam just snorted at the comment, smiling down at him.

"You're cute. You want to go get something to eat at the carts?" Adam asked, but Lucifer wanted him to linger longer on the cute comment. He preened under the compliment, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he'd say that.

"Carts? Food carts? I haven't been, are they good?"

"If the food wasn't good I wouldn't gain a pound everytime I come here." Adam grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him along again. "Come on, I want to show you my favorite places."

If Lucifer had been a cartoon, he would have floated behind the man with little heart eyes, but instead he was left just letting Adam take the lead.

The food cart area was cuter than Lucifer was expecting, now that night had fallen, the lights hung up around the pavilion were letting off a soft ethereal glow, and each table had a small gas fireplace in it, flickering blue and warm. Adam went cart by cart, greeting people and telling Lucifer what the best food was at each place.

Lucifer ended up getting a falafel sandwich and platter, while Adam got a sandwich that defied explanation at first glance, but looked good none the less. It was huge, dripping juices and cheese, and Adam took a big enthusiastic bite out of it.

"Do you come here often?" Lucifer asked, and Adam nodded, swallowing, before pausing.

"Not on dates. Just, yeah, I come here pretty often. I'm not a good cook." Adam told him.

"I am," Lucifer said instantly. "I could cook for you."

Adam raised an eyebrow at him, resting his chin in his free palm as he looked at him across the table. "You'll cook for me... tomorrow morning?"

Lucifer knew it wasn't a great idea, he had to go to work still; hell, he was still tired after earlier today, and he'd even left a couple hours early for the date. But, he couldn't say no.

"Anything you want," Lucifer answered softly, and Adam leaned across the table to kiss him.

[viictorvandort]

Oh. Right. A momentarily lapse in memory probably from the journey back to the "real world" and now it all came rushing back. While they were free, it came at a cost. A condition that had to be met before a deadline. Even if Victor wasn't sure how Emily could check that, he knew she probably had her ways. And it was probably best not to get on her bad side by resisting...

How did one stop a walking, taking, corpse bride?

"Okay," Victor began slowly, willing his heart to calm. Breathe, breathe. "We only need to pretend for that duration, yes? And can't we just... ask our parents to play along? Pretend we're practicing for a play?" But did that even make sense? Victor knew his parents would laugh at the idea of him ever being in a play. They'd also lecture him about involving himself in anything remotely related to the idea of two men being together, even in a pretend scenario.

"My parents won't take it well at all, even if we tell them it's just for a theatre project... What about yours? Do you think they'll react badly?" This was such a mess, but what else could they do? They somehow had to find a way to play along until they'd convinced Emily that she couldn't marry him. If they got away with it and she left them be, they could drop the act and she would be none the wiser.

"I'm sorry, Gregory. It's my fault I got us into all this."

For a moment, Gregory feared that Victor was ill from his time in the underworld, the coldness perhaps reaching his bones at a faster rate than they had anticipated. What had happened? Surely he had not forgotten, the bright excitement in his gaze both softening and concerning the Bridgerton.

"Yes, we did," he agreed, although his voice lacked the enthusiasm that Victor seemed to be displaying. Dark eyes fixed on his friend, serious and firm -- Two things that Gregory liked to think he was not. "Do you not remember? Anything?"

Seemingly not. With a sigh, he ran his hand through dishevelled curls, swallowing as he tried to think of a way to break it to him. After all, this was all Gregory's fault. "She let us go under... under a condition. That we must convince our parents that we're... well, together."

[cassiewritessalot]

21

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you went the whole day thinking of rafe and decided to call him at the end of the day, basically the next day, you never expected him to but an answered your call anyway.

warnings: arguing, vulgar language,mentions of sex, lmk if i missed anything! (not proof read)

cassie's notes: i searched everywhere to find rafe's birthday but i couldn't find one with a specific date so i used drew's birthday. i had the best idea listening to '21' by gracie abrams, i recommend listening to it while reading.. enjoy! with love always, cassie <3.

as your eyes fluttered lightly, waking you up from your sleep to get ready for your university classes. you grab your phone from your bedside table to check the time until your eyes fell onto the date.

4th November.. his birthday. you put your phone back on the dresser and look up at the ceiling, thinking about how you used to celebrate rafe's birthday with him.

you first woke up with a cake, singing to him and watching him make a wish, spending the day doing whatever he wanted if both you're schedules allowed you to and then, of course, a party.. and after too many intoxicating items the both of you consumed you'd end up at your apartment, every piece of clothing discarded on the floor, yours and his moans heard through out the night. as you're day dreaming slowly came to an end and you got out of your bed, you wondered if rafe was now spending the day with another woman like how you two used to.

as you got ready for the day, not bothering to put in effort. you slipped into your grey sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt with a hoodie, leaving your hair down and little to no makeup.

during all your classes, you couldn't stop thinking about rafe, all your thoughts were of him, every hour, every minute. you thought about calling him all throughout the day but didn't want to embarrass yourself knowing there could be thousands of different out comes if you do call rafe, most of them being negative ones.

the day passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you're bak in your apartment looking through all the things you kept that either belonged to rafe or reminded you of rafe. you find a picture of you and rafe, it was a photobooth picture.

the first picture you had your arms around rafe's neck smiling at the camera while rafe was admiring you, not bothering to smile at the camera. the second picture you turned to look at rafe and smiled at each other with big grins. the last picture is you and rafe sharing a sweet passionate kiss. you smiled at the picture, realising how badly your heart was starting the yearn for the dirty blonde-haired boy.

hours passed by, you managed to complete tasks around the house as well as any schoolwork so that you're caught up with everything. when night fell upon the city, you laid awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling and, still, thinking of rafe. you reached for your phone and read the time, 11:43 p.m.

'what if i just called him?' you thought to yourself not realising you were already searching for his contact in your phone. once you phoned his contact, you inhaled and exhaled a few times to prepare yourself for what you're about to do, before you knew it, you pressed the call button.

'he won't answer, he won't answer, he won't answer..' you repeated to yourself over and over again and after the third ring you were about to end the call until you heard the sound of the call being accepted and you felt your heart go to your stomach.

"y/n?', you heard rafe's voice, you could hear the sound of faint music in the back, sounding very muffled.

"rafe, hey.. uh- happy 21st.", i wish him, wondering if he can hear my anxiety through the phone.

"thank you.. i appreciate it.", he thanks and i mumble a 'your welcome' and just before i end the call i hear his voice loud and clear.

"you know, i was kinda to see a text or something from you all day.", he admits with a slight chuckle, his words bringing a faint smile to my face.

"i wanted to reach out so many times, trust me, i just didn't want to embarrass myself, you know?', i explain to the boy and he lets out a little 'mhm' in response.

'uh- how was your day? shouldn't you being having a party right now?", i asked the boy.

"honestly, kinda lame compared to all the years we spent it together, but i am at my party- or was. i ran to my car the second i saw your name pop up on my phone.", rafe explains again and i feel my smile growing.

"i miss you so much y/n.", he speaks again and i sit up, leaning against my head board, processing his words.

"i miss you more rafe.. more than you would ever know. everything reminds me of you- of us.", i express my feelings to the boy.

"i need to see you y/n, where are you?", he asks me and i can hear his car starting, ready to drive wherever i am.

"my apartment- the same address as always.", i reply and rafe lets out a little 'okay' in response. we stay on the phone with each other as he drives to my place and catch up with one another over what's happened in the year we've been separated.

after about 20 minutes of us talking, and rafe driving, he tells me he's outside the door to my apartment and i end the phone call going to the door to unlock it for rafe. as soon as i open the door we greet each other and i invite rafe inside.

i quickly lock the door and turn around to see rafe walking and looking around my apartment.

"i like what you did with your place, it's different- a good different.", he turns back to look at me with a smile and i return the smile.

"yeah- i needed a change.", i look around my apartment with rafe before noticing his eyes fall to a specific wall in my room dedicated to pictures of my friends and myself. there was a specific picture of rafe and i- the photobooth picture from this afternoon.

"you still have that?", he asks me with a smile, i nod my head in reply and as he looks at the picture, my face turns to him and i admire his features. he didn't change much, still had his buzz cut, and those gorgeous blue eyes that you could always get lost in. while you were admiring your ex-boyfriend, you didn't notice him looking back at you with the same amount of admiration until you heard his voice.

"i really missed you, y/n.", he repeats what he said earlier on the phone call.

"i really missed you too, rafe.", i tell him and feel my eyes fill with tears while looking up at him.

"hey- what's the matter, huh?", he asks and steps closer to me wrapping his arms around me, placing his chin on my head. i wrap my arms around his waist and attempt to keep the tears inside of my eyes.

"i don't know.. i just really miss being with you- being yours.", i explain to the boy and feel his old on my body get tighter.

"i miss that too y/n/n, so much. the things i'd do for you to be mine again.", he mumbles the last part before leaning down slightly to kiss my head. i slowly lift my gaze from the floor to his face.

"you'd willingly want to be with me again?", i ask the boy with a faint smile on my face.

"always- i feel like i'm required to have a second chance with you as i've learned from my past mistakes and am now a better man for you. if you don't want that i completely understand.", rafe says as he locks his eyes with mine with a smirk on his face.

i don't say anything, i close my eyes and place my lips on his- the kiss is filled with love and passion. it's not rough- it's slow and sensual. i slowly pull away.

"i never stopped being yours rafe..", i say in a voice above a whisper before placing my lips back on rafe's, feeling the both of us smile into the kiss.

"'missed these sweet lips..", he mumbles softly and wraps his arms under my thighs, making me jump and wrap my legs around his waist and he walks towards my bed, placing me down on my back and leaning down between my legs.

"show me how much you missed me, rafey.."

[coquelicoq]

Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.

Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.

"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.

"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."

Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.

"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"

He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."

In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.

Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile was one he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.

It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.

"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.

Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.

They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.

Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.

A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.

His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.

He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them as soon as possible, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?

A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.

"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."

A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?

He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.

"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.189 Correction

When story time ended, Sophia took Desi to the bathroom and washed away the mess. With a few moments to myself, I went to the real estate website to see our house again and choose which side we'll call home. Both houses have an identical layout, so it really boiled down to which furniture we liked more. The gray house had a more sophisticated vibe, while the blue house was more relaxed and comfortable. Choosing was a lot harder than I imagined because they both were nice, and I couldn't go wrong with either. Ultimately, however, I chose the gray one. I figured since I'm taking on all the risk, it's only right we live in the fancier one. Just as I picked up the phone to call Less and tell her we have a house, someone knocked at the front door. It was Dub! I let him in and told him I was just thinking of him yesterday. Usually he'd take the opportunity to joke about how he has that effect on sims, but he just kinda snorted and said it was funny in the driest of tones. There was nothing funny about that half-hearted laugh and him standing in the foyer staring into the corner. Something was wrong.

"Earth to Dubstep. You coming in or you gonna stand in the foyer all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm good."

He definitely was not good because he didn't even flinch at the mention of the nickname he hates so much. Whatever's got him in a funk is probably why he's here. He always comes to me when he's in crisis. Well, when he perceives he's in crisis, rather. I love the guy, but he's a little high-strung sometimes. I'm glad he has sims in his life like Maia and me who are much calmer and more level-headed to keep him straight.

I didn't want to just dive in and spook him, though, so I started with a little small talk.

"Happy belated," I said.

"Thanks, man," he replied with a tiny grin.

"How did Tami like sharing her day with you?"

He let out a very long sigh, and I knew I had stepped unintentionally right into the middle of what I tried to dance around. I guess we're going all the way in.

"She didn't."

"Oh."

"How do you-" He stopped himself and turned away from me. "Nevermind. You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?"

He swatted at me, trying to sweep the conversation back under the rug.

"Nothing. You have the perfect child and all this wisdom. You don't understand what it's like for the rest of us."

Was he mocking me? I've had it up to here with everyone assuming I live this perfect life and have all the answers. I'm one of the most down-to-earth sims I know, yet somehow I still end up being out of touch with everyone. Am I too confident? Too strong? I know I've carried things I shouldn't have in the past, and I need to be more open, but how does that equate to me having it all together? I know Dub is upset about something and isn't thinking straight, so I'm gonna try to let it go this time, but not before I give him a little dose of truth because, upset or not, this fairytale everyone thinks I live in ends today.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know. But I'm sure you're gonna tell me how I'm wrong, so..."

"Damn right I am. You don't know my life like you think you do. And you definitely don't know what goes on in my head. 'All this wisdom?' I got it from all the shit and mental gymnastics I've been through. Now, I'll be the first to say my child is the best, but she has her moments too. And I've had my share of parenting and marriage fails, so don't tell me I don't know what it's like."

He sat silently for a few moments, taking in my reprove. Part of me thinks all he needed was to hear me say he's not alone, but another part thinks he still needs advice on something, so I got down to business.

"What happened, Dub? I don't like seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"Don't worry about it. What's going on?"

"You ever wonder if you're ruining Desi?"

His question caught me off guard, and I laughed. He has no idea how obvious that answer should be.

"Only all the time," I said.

His eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Of course. Did Tami come with a manual? Because we sure didn't get one. I don't know what I'm doing half the time, man, so yeah...I wonder. Like, her birthday is in two days, but I'm still carrying her around like an infant. She enjoys it, so it's cool, but is it hurting her? Will she want to be up under us all the time when she's older? Am I keeping her from becoming independent? I question every move I make with her, even if it's not necessarily bad."

"I feel that." He sat there, nodding over and over as if to drum up the courage to make his next statement. "Tami has been doing and saying some mean things lately, but I just let it happen because of my own feelings about the sims she's doing it to."

"How do you mean?"

"I told you she kicked my former tenants. You know they deserved that. She also bit my father-in-law. I was so proud of her because someone needs to knock him down a few pegs. But she's older now and using words. She cut up this little girl in the park yesterday and told her she wasn't pretty."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. But the other girl started it, so she had it coming too."

"I see what you mean now."

"So, what do you think about it?"

Oof. Why does he always put me in this position? I have a lot of feelings about this, but I'm sure none of them are what he wants to hear. But what kind of friend would I be if I said nothing? I'd feel terrible if Tami grew up to be a monster, knowing I had the opportunity to shed some light early on. It won't be comfortable, but I've got to at least try. Here goes nothing.

"I think ... You're my boy, and I'll always tell you the truth, so ... You're her dad, Dub. You should be the one telling her those things are wrong, not encouraging her bad behavior. I know you think all those folks got what they deserved, which is also problematic, but is that the message you want to send Tami? That she can do and say whatever she wants and get away with it because 'they deserved it?' I'm afraid of the path you're putting her on. What kind of a woman will she become if you let her continue on like this? Do you think of her future?"

"Of course I do! What kind of a-"

He paused, succumbing to the realization I was right, even though I wondered if I had gone too far.

"I'm sorry if I'm out of line," I said. "I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't care."

"No. You're right. You always are. I was just thinking about what my parents will say if they find out how she's been acting. There's no way in hell they would have let me get away with the stuff I let slide."

I can't imagine my parents letting us get away with that either, but I honestly don't know what they would have done. Me and Less never really got into trouble, and my parents were both so lenient. I guess I'll never know. Hopefully, I'll never have to talk to Desi about this.

"I'm glad you always keep it 100 with me," he continued. "That's why I trust you so much. Can't lie, though. That hurt, but I know I needed to hear it. Deep down, I knew, but I never saw it like that. I'll do better, though. Believe that."

"I believe it, man. We don't play about our daughters."

"We absolutely do not!"

Not that I don't love these deep conversations with my best friend, but that one got really heavy, and he clearly has a lot to mull over later, so I pulled out my phone and showed him our new home, hoping a lighter topic would do the trick.

[nyantry]

Dmitry looked up at the rain, suddenly yanked out of that dreamlike haze by the drops hitting his face so suddenly. He did not wake up, though. Not yet, not now. He was still in that realm with Death, in a space between, even if time had now resumed its usual course. Samael was powerful, but even Dmitry knew that Death had no say over time. Not really. Not beyond ordained moments, spelled out second by second in God's great design. He did not hold any hard feelings toward Samael over it, even if that space of timelessness was well-wanted.

He looked back to Sammy as the archangel continued speaking. He reached out instinctively to touch the scythe, not doing so only because he thought better of it when he saw his own hand in the air. He knew better than to intrude like that, curiosity-bitten as he always was.

He sat on the sandy ground below, taking in the words that Samael was saying to him. In the words of the great Marty McFly, this was heavy. There was Samael, echoing something Nico had pointed out forever ago. He wasn't close to death. He wasn't burdened by it, either. It was what drove his purpose. Nico had seen that, and though it had taken a long time, Dmitry had sort of grasped that Nico had meant this. Why did it keep escaping him, then? Why did he keep forgetting? Maybe that was it? Maybe that was the point? To keep his intentions pure, or something? He couldn't possibly pretend to fathom knowing the answer.

God's wrath, though? That, he could not understand. He didn't really think of himself as wrathful, let alone divinely so. He just had that insatiable drive to do something, to not sit and watch while people suffered, to not just be on the sidelines when he had the means to help. He couldn't just watch. He was angry, yes. But he could not comprehend being afforded divinity, and he understood even less the idea that his purpose revolved around it. He'd have to sit with that for a lot longer than this conversation could last.

But guardian, this he could accept. He thought of himself as Nico's guardian angel too. Every person has one, Nico included, and he hadn't seen any other angels near Nico. No, it was his own duty; he had to watch over Nico. He never talked about that to Nico; it didn't seem necessary. But Dmitry did, suddenly, remember that he had accepted this charge previously in Samael's presence. By its very nature, that conversation, and likely this one, and any number of other conversations between worlds, were not for him to remember. There could be nothing to obstruct, nothing to impede, nothing to hinder. What he didn't have to know, he wouldn't remember. It was a grace to be afforded that; it made things simpler, tumultuous as it was not knowing.

He took Samael's warning to heart, though. It was no light caution, not coming from that angel in particular. Dmitry lifted his gaze to meet Death's flames for eyes sitting in a skull devoid of flesh. "I know. I don't say this lightly: I feel it in my very soul, it's him. He needs me."

Aftr a moment of silence and more thought, he spoke once more. This time it was quiet, vulnerable. It was a topic he'd never really talked about with Samael himself, not since it had happened.

"The first time I died, were you there? Before, I mean. Were you watching? I remember it was cold. I don't think I could have chosen differently. I've never talked to Nico about it and... this time, I want to know what you think. I feel like I should, maybe I should tell him? He doesn't ask me certain things and I think it's because he knows I find it difficult to talk about, but this... I feel he deserves to know. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Your nose clouds vision."

"You forget your purpose."

He basically told Dmitry he couldn't see passed the end of his nose and the answer was just as plain as the nose on his face in Death-speak.

He turned the hourglass fast and hard back as it should be and in that one move rain poured in the gravity's shift back to normalcy like a wake up call.

"You never belong where you don't stand, or you'd be moved." He held up his scythe in reasonable explanation.

The little monologuer was over-thinking considering he was discussing this with such a neutral party. He wasn't the Angel of Forgiveness. He wasn't the Angel of Mercy. He was that of all things masculine and war and a psychopomp of death. Where he guided those souls were not his to judge.

But what did he mean by Dmitry was forgetting his purpose? Dmitry clearly thought he was on his own path. Still Samael knew angels and there were those of seraphim, the cherubs, the thrones, virtues, dominions, powers, principalities, archangels, guardian angels etc... Everyone had a place, a job, a space, something they rules over. Some had celestial jobs. Others fought evils. Some were closer to the human race than others.

Samael didn't have to be there with Dmitry and God the day they made their agreement to see what was happening. The great He gave Dmitry an earthly job. He was alive. He also fought evil.

"Have you ever considered you're not close to death? You idolize it. You've experienced it. You're not like me. Maybe close to dying sometimes. You're close to humanity at all times. You're alive. Every time. Every reincarnation you are blessed with a full life however you expend it. If you lost the deep connection with the humanity that drove you to death the first time you'd lose your drive for your purpose. You're blessed with unhealing to be human with mightier purposes. God's wrath."

Dmitry might disagree with him, but he'd not waiver. nor bicker. He also saw it all the time. People were so close to a situation they couldn't see beyond themselves. It was part of the human condition. Maybe Dmitry hadn't considered all that wrath wasn't all his own? Nor a human sin, but an angel's purpose as a conduit.

After Dmitry spoke of Nico, he repeated.

"God blessed you with the human condition for all your purposes. I have no doubt of that."

"If God assigned you one Niccolo to watch over as a guardian angel it's not your job to get him to Heaven. It's your job to protect him on whatever path he walks so he's never alone until the end of days. His free will is always his own."

The reason Nico began to believe Dmitry was his guardian angel wasn't just because it was a cute thing to say after hearing his avenging angel story. No. It was because of Aleister Crowley who wrote Magic Without Tears and who refers back to The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn mentions that holy guardian is an independent being, who may have been previously human. To Nico that meant Dmitry. He might not have been able to see it in the Bible, but he read it from occultists.

Then Samael had a fair warning because he himself already lived that life. He didn't care that Dmitry was given a human form. He himself had a human form. He was an angel. If he thought, he was human he was fooling himself. He was immortal. No human reincarnates without being reborn a baby again. He was an angel. He was deluded by his humanity so focused on his next death day it blurred his focus and that was okay. Samael believed Dmitry was probably supposed to be for the most part and would probably forget most of this or it would feel like a dream later anyway until the next time they met.

The fair warning was this. He thought of the woman he married. He remembered God ripping several of the wings right off his back as punishment for marrying a human. Other angels were mating, but Samael fell in love, had to give up his wife, repent, and welcomed back in Heaven. He was forgiven but given the job of being the keeper over the Grigori's Prison, the ones God did not forgive for breeding as an eternal punishment. So, as Death's jagged misshapen wings that hung from behind him drug along as they began to walk again, he said, "Because if he is not your assignment and you're off your path, He will catch up to you. I know."

Samael wasn't going to claim to know Dmitry's purpose other than it was clear to him he was an angel for humanity meant to feel deeply as them as kindred spirits. This is why he avenged.

[savingpltravers]

recently i have reflecting on the time i decided to drop out of college, which was about 8 years ago. i keep having these dreams where i seem to live in a limbo between having exams but feeling unprepared for them in some ways so incredibly stressed but i somehow already have the job i have currently. so in my dreamstate i am having anxiety over exams whilst knowing i can just quit college because i already have my job. (in the real world i wouldn't be able to combine the two, obviously) These dreams happen to me in some form at least a few times a week and I have been having them for years.

then on top of them one of my old professors at the college i went to is on a really popular belgian reality tv game show and i only found out when i watched the first episode and recognised her by her manner of speaking etc. it was really weird. and now i keep wanting to find out what my interactions with her were like because i can't conjure up any specific memories of her, but i somehow feel like she had a mentor role too and i might have had a few personal interactions with her. but i don't remember.

so i went back to look at my grades (they were ok the first year, but then got worse the second year) and now i'm looking through my old tumblr posts.

because i keep having stressful dreams about being in college again i feel like it's still a traumatic experience that maybe hasn't had the closure that it needs. from reading my old texts posts it looks like i decided to drop out just before my last summer exams in the second year. but i still took those exams and was at peace but also stressed at the same time. so i think that in my dreams i'm back in that mental space again. where i have to take exams and want to do well but also knowing it is kind of pointless?

but what i already did know and saw again by looking through my old archive is how much this place, so vibrant and lively at the time, full with people who obsessed with me over saving mr banks, poppins, emma t, etc, who were there for me and were so incredibly kind of supportive of me, saved me from falling into a much deeper place. so honestly, even if most of you who were there at the time have moved on and are no longer here, thank you so much for being such a bright light in my world at the time. <3