#i feel like i should draw ghost in the azrael skin more

[bluegiragi]

don't keep him waiting!!! (full vers on patreon)

[imagine-darksiders]

Hi! First of all, thank you for creating all these awesome stories! I was completely elated when I stumbled across your page. The horsemen deserve lots of love and what better way to do that through fluffs and cutsey moments! I was wondering if you could write a scenario where Death and his S/O meet for the first time after thinking he was gone for good in the Well of Souls please? :-)

‘Saudade (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that has been distant, or that has been loved and then lost…’

—

“This is just daft,” Death grumbles to himself, marching through a half-formed settlement. He passes tents filled with humans; confused, but very much alive. Each one spares him a wary glance, ushering children into cover or retreating into it themselves. Several humans who’d been in law enforcement before the apocalypse and were dispatched to the camp let their hands fall to their firearms as he passed by. 

Death ignored them all. 

It was roughly 2 months after the horseman fell into the Well of Souls. 2 months since the human race had been restored to life. Already the little species had pulled themselves back together, setting up these encampments until further accommodation would doubtless be sorted, finding food, water… finding each other. 

But Death hadn’t found who he was looking for. 

To begin with, he’d been completely flummoxed as to why he was seeking the human at all. Surely he had better things to do. It soon became apparent, however, that although he may well have had more pressing matters to attend to, he didn’t have anything he would rather be doing. 

It had taken only a few days to return to the Crowfather and inquire where the Old one had sent you, and to reacquire his mask, of course. But the horseman hadn’t considered that you might have moved since then. 

Indeed you had, to his irritation. When you returned to Earth, you’d thrown yourself into the relief effort. You helped several angels settle your fellow humans, you’d aided them in hunting down stray demons, anything to keep your mind busy. Anything to keep you from thinking about him. 

It damn near killed you when he sacrificed himself for your people. You were utterly spent from the pain of losing your family, your world, your life. When you lost your friend as well, it was too much. The Crowfather had to carry you out of the Tree. All you could do was scream. 

—

Dust dives down from the dark, grey sky to hover over the horseman’s head. The crow releases a frantic caw before darting over the heads of a group of humans, perching on the pole of a tent with a red cross. If Death had a heart at all, it would have almost soared. He squashed down the feeling of relief, grinding it into ashes in the pit of his stomach as he brushes through the crowd of people, who scatter regardless away from the creature the kind angel, Azrael, had told them about. 

Pace quickening only fractionally, Death strides towards the tent with the cross, reaches out a hand to the lift the flap…..

…..and is beaten to it. 

Out steps a shoddy, exhausted, miserable-looking human. 

Death’s hand freezes in front of a shocked face, one that looks as though it’s seen a ghost. 

— 

You gape up at the pale white mask you honestly thought you’d never see again. Your mouth opens and closes dumbly as you try to make sense of what exactly you’re seeing. 

“Death?” you breathe. 

“Y/n,” he replies, voice as steady as ever. 

Behind his mask, Death’s mouth is drawn into a wide grin, thankful for the obstruction. He drops his hand to his side and rests it instead on his hip. The old horseman ducks his head and moves to speak. 

He’s interrupted by a human-sized bullet launching itself full pelt into his chest. Death grunts as he’s forced to step backwards from the force of you barreling into him. You throw your arms around the startled horseman’s waist and press your cheek hard into the bottom of his sternum. Death’s eyes widen in shock, his hands hover slightly above your back and he looks down at you, surprised. The horseman blinks once, then twice. 

A few of the surrounding humans watched the spectacle with intrigue and a little distaste. 

You’re sure you’ll hear all about this tomorrow: ‘The human who embraced death’. 

A weak smile pulls at your lips and your hands scrabble desperately for purchase on Death’s taut skin. Tears stream down your face and soak into the purple cowl that hangs from his neck. A choked sob erupts from your throat and the old horseman can only hesitate a moment longer before letting one hand fall onto your back and the other came to rest on the top of your head as you nuzzle him, sighing contentedly.

“I thought you were dead,” you whisper. 

Death scoffs a little at that, but it quickly turns into a grim chuckle. “Technically, I am.” 

“Not funny,” you grumble, muffled slightly thanks to still being squashed against  his cold skin. Still, you can’t help your breathless laugh whilst you pull away from Death slightly, taking notice of how he braces his hands against your back, preventing you from retreat. With a jolt, he remembers himself and allows you to lean backwards until you meet his searing gaze. 

Fixing the mighty horseman with a piercing glare of your own, you sniff and swipe at your watery eyes then jab a finger into his chest scoldingly. “Don’t you ever,” you sob, “ever do that to me again.” The horseman tilts his head a touch, baffled at how much his absence seems to have affected you. He remains silent and waits for you to finish. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you this past month?”  Now Death is rendered completely bewildered. 

“You missed me?” he laughs skeptically. 

“Of course I did!” Huffing, you push yourself out of Death’s loose hold and fold your arms tightly over your chest, levelling a glare up at the horseman. “What did you think I was going to do? Forget about everything we went through together and just carry on? You were - are, my friend, Death. How could you think I wouldn’t miss you when you were gone?” 

The horseman is deathly quiet, staring down at you with squinted eyes. He takes in a deep breath as though to speak, coughs, swallows and then tries again. “What a foreign thing for these old ears to be privy to…” he breathes, incredulous. You blink up at him, raising an eyebrow at the sudden gentleness in his usually cold tone. Chewing the inside of your lip, you heave a deep sigh and shake your head in amusement. 

“You, know...I should be the one who’s surprised, really,” you admit.” 

“Oh?” 

Nodding, “Yeah. I mean, you honestly thought I wouldn’t care this much that you were gone, but you’re the one who came to find me. So how’s that work?” you ask with a teasing lilt to your voice. You’d caught him out.  

The horseman casts his eyes to the side in thought before flicking them back to you. “Call it common courtesy?” he tries with a shrug. 

“Common courtesy?” you echo, feeling your smile fall from your lips. 

Death steels himself against the wounded look in your eyes. “I don’t like leaving loose ends untied,” he dismisses quickly. “I wanted to know if all my effort at keeping you alive had paid off, in the end.” 

“Oh…” You try to keep the hurt from your voice. “Well then,” you force a smile, looking up from your feet, “Thanks for tying up this one. I’m glad you came to see me.” Your voice cracks on the last word so you cough and avoid Death’s gaze. 

For his part, the horseman remains as steadfast as he can, refusing to give in to the nagging feeling of guilt that squirms deep in his gut. He loses the battle, however the longer he looks at your glum, tired face. Downcast and suddenly so timid. Roving his eyes up to the sky, Death silently curses himself for letting himself get so attached. At what point did he get so warm-hearted? 

You continue to stare sullenly at a point just to the right of Death’s knee. 

“I had to find you.” 

You blink. He said it so quietly, you scarce were sure you’d heard him at all. Slowly, you lift your head up to meet his shining glower. Vaguely beneath the holes in his mask, you can barely make out that his brow is knitted together in a morose frown. 

“What did you say?” you ask in growing amazement.  

He draws himself up, but his gaze never leaves yours, unblinking. 

“I had to find you,” he repeats, “I needed to - I wanted to know….that you were alive,” the horseman seems to struggle with the emotional openness. 

“…Because you’d tried so hard to keep me alive?” you ask, raising a brow. 

He’s quiet, his eyelid fall shut and he breathes out a defeated sigh. “….No….” Death murmurs. You feel your heart quicken as he opens his eyes and regards you fondly. He pauses in thought until he whispers to himself, “Saudade…”

“What?” you question, wiping at your eyes. Death smiles down at you and though you can’t see it, you can still feel it. 

“Something I heard one of your species mention a long time ago, he told me what it meant in his language and it always stayed with me. Fitting then, that I should remember it now.” He places a large hand on your head and uses a thumb to brush a hair behind your ear. “At the time, I thought him a sentimental fool, that human. But now, I feel it. When I returned, my first thoughts were of you, and what had happened to you. I felt your absence and it nearly drove me mad that I couldn’t find you when I came to the place the Crowfather had sent you. I had to be near you again, I felt saudade,” he finishes. Tears fall afresh down your cheeks as you beam through them up at the horseman, who looks both aghast at his own confession, but also too tired to have held it in any longer.

Without another word, you throw yourself at him again, only this time, Death’s arms close around you the moment yours snake around his waist and you pull yourself tightly against him. He hums contentedly at the feeling of having you pressed into him, alive and well. Ignoring the stares and whispers of the surrounding humans, Death curls himself over you, his forearms cover your back and both of his hands clutch the back of your head. 

Grinning like a love-sick fool for having your best friend back, you burrow into his stomach and breathe in the scent that reminds you so much of fallen, autumn leaves. Above you, Death lets his eyes slip closed, something Oran had said finding its way to the forefront of his mind in this brief moment of sentimentality. Death can’t find it in himself to deny the old construct’s astute observation. 

‘Death-you are not so cold as you would have us all believe!…’

[the-art-of-word]

The Worst Part

By the time she opened her eyes, he was gone.

The weeks that followed weren’t easy. Luciel had the responsibility of taking Azrael’s job until a replacement could be found, meaning that while Maggie was in school, he was often in Heaven, helping the Host. Balancing their romance, not getting caught, and doing his work was time consuming. However, he was always there when Maggie got out, and when her break started, he was by her side as often as he could be. Sometimes, they discussed heavier things, serious things. Other times, he would simply lay in bed with her while she rested. Regardless, he was where he wanted to be, so he was happy.

Her father was careful to keep a close eye on her now, and after two near-death incidents, Luciel couldn’t blame him. He just hoped one day, he wouldn’t have to mask himself and Maggie could introduce her father to him. Now, though, he knew wasn’t a good time. Maggie had only just gotten her cast off the week before. They agreed, her father wouldn’t be ready to meet a boyfriend Maggie had never once mentioned. He didn’t mind. For now, this was fine. He could be happy with just this.

He never did bring up the Kiss of Death again. He thought, maybe, it was for the best that they take this one step at a time for now, and Azrael was gone, now, anyway. Maggie was safe, so it wasn’t as if he needed to be able to find her at a moment’s notice.

That night, her father was on night shift and Sara had a soul, leaving Luciel and Maggie alone. He’d made her dinner and even done the dishes. It had been their first thing even close to a date.  Opening the door, he found her leaned against her window sill, staring at the sky, the ghost of smoke still lingering on her lips.

Moving to rest his hands to her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head, drawing a soft hum from her.

“You know, you really should stop that, now that you have a future to worry about. Most would..”

“Hm.”

That drew a soft frown to his face, and he tilted his head. That wasn’t very much like her at all. She seemed… deep in thought, troubled, perhaps even sad. Lately, she’d seemed happier, freer. He liked to think he had something to do with that, at least, in part.

“Mags?” He asked, feeling the hair on his neck stand on end as he reached out for her. “What’s the matter?"

“Hm? Oh, just… thinking,” She said, her words not easing his concern.

“About what, princess?" A silence followed his words that put him on edge, and he tensed, pulling his hands away from her as the air around them settled into an uneasy stillness that frightening him half to death. This wasn’t like her. She was being… almost cold to him, distant. Had he done something wrong without realizing it? Had he… hurt her? His expression became worried, and his skin paled, as he swallowed, waiting for her answer.

“...Luciel,” She said softly, turning to look over her shoulder at him quietly, green eyes laced with a deep sorrow that made his chest feel like it was going to crush under its own weight. No… no she couldn’t.

“I think we need to talk, sit down.”

The words that Maggie spoke were probably the most painful Luciel had heard to date. Stiffly, he moved to sit on the bed, shoulders tensed as he watched her sigh. Her footsteps were heavy, pacing across the floor as she rubbed her right hand over her left wrist.

“Listen, can we really do this? Do… us?” She said, and Luciel felt his insides turn cold. She was...unhappy? “I mean- you’ve got your responsibilities in Heaven and- it’s not really smart of me to enter into a relationship no one else can see, right..? It looks bad- we can’t exactly go on a real date, and I mean, what am I supposed to tell people about why I don’t date. ‘Oh, actually, I have a boyfriend, but you can’t see him because he’s an angel!’?” Sorrow overwhelmed him, but he couldn’t argue, because nothing she said was untrue. Still, he.. He wanted to believe there was a future for them.

“Maggie…” Sorrow, heavy and thick, settled on his shoulders and he bowed his head. “We can.. We won’t always have to live like this,” He promised, jaw clenching on the lump in his throat.

“Won’t we? I will always be me, and you will always be an angel. Do you know how nuts that sounds? They could hospitalize me for that, and I’ve got my future to think about!”

“Maggie.” She was right. He knew she was. That didn’t stop the searing hot sensation of agony coursing through him. He had to do what was right for her.

He loved her.

“I’m sorry, Luca, I just- I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I think it would be best if we-”

“If we broke up.” The words fell out of him before he could stop them. He knew what was coming. He’d already made peace with it. She...was unhappy, and it was his job to want her happiness, even if that wasn’t him.

Silence hung around them like smoke, invisible, but far from clear. They both knew what came next, now. It was just a matter of who had the courage to do it first. He looked up and found her watching him, crystalline tears running down her fair cheeks as she looked on at him. There was so much pain written on her lovely features. She didn’t deserve to hurt. Part of him wanted to pull her in and taste her lips just one last time, but… that wouldn’t have been fair to her.

“Maggie Hill,” Luciel said, moving to his feet and crossing the space of her room until he was standing before her. His face was ashen, more so than usual, and his expression was one of grim acceptance. If he had to be the one to do it, to spare her just a little bit of pain, then so be it. “I hope that one day,” He paused, swallowing thickly, “one day, you find a man who cherishes you as I do, and I hope he makes you the happiest woman on the face of this Earth. You deserve nothing less.” A pained smile graced his features, and he leaned down, kissing her forehead. As he did, her eyes slipped closed.