#it's easier to see when compared to charlie

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Thinking about the soft subtle glow of light they put around Lucifer during the final battle 🥰

[liveontelevision]

I beg of u pls more slowburn luci... I'm starved... No one writes him as well as you💔 I'll give you my kidneys 💔

THIS ONES FOR YOU BB

Did it Hurt? Lucifer x Reader

enjoy some quick fluff >:)

♡♡♡

Lucifer always had a habit of losing his temper. It wasn't often, usually when a specific document was giving him a hard time or when he would return from any meeting that took place at Heaven's Embassy. Or, with the relocation of his quarters, whenever a certain radio demon would push his buttons just a bit too much. You've seen it enough times to know when to leave him be and when to step in, but you hated to admit how familiar you became with him in this state.

It was a lot of work keeping up with the hotel after its renovation, and Lucifer did everything in his power to keep the hotel running behind the scenes, so Charlie could focus on her new residents. Being his assistant for so many years, even following him to work at the hotel, you were absolutely delighted to see him so passionate to work, obviously motivated by his rekindled relationship with his daughter. But with the whole redemption premise, it meant a lot more contact with Heaven, and that drained his battery more than anything you've seen.

You hated to compare, but it almost reminded you of his depressive episodes after Lillith disappeared. He walked the halls in a daze, putting on the brightest smile only around the other hotel staff, but you knew him too well to be fooled by his lovely grin.

Throw some drinks into the mix? You'd witness a truly gruesome sight.

It was almost evening when Lucifer realized he actually had caught up to his work and had the chance to enjoy his night. His first thought, no matter how much he'd deny it, was to find you. It was always easier to enjoy his rest and relaxation when you were around. Something about you just left that affect on him. It'd drive him crazy if he thought about it too long.

You found yourself in the newly renovated lobby, still decorated with a bar that exentuated both Lucifer's and Alastor's aesethetic. It was one of the few things they had compromised on.

Lucifer insisted you stop work for the night, but you only agreed after thoroughly skimming over his documents to see if there was anything that would keep him up too long. After finally being swayed, you give him a quick pat on his arm and wished him a good night, assuming he would take the oppurtunity to sleep through his newfound free time.

With a satisifed sigh, you slammed your empty cup on the bar's counter, shouting for another. There was a loud roar of cheers coming from everyone around you as Husk refilled your glass. You lost count after the first hour or so, your head beginning to spin before you could consider the consequences. Soft Jazz music was playing from a small radio, hidden from view, and the entire hotel staff was bustling and chatting as if it wasn't nearly midnight on an average night in Hell.

You had heard something particularly ridiculous from Angel that sent you into a laughing fit. Nearly falling from your barstool, you felt a sturdy hand brace the small of your back. Startled by the sensation, you whip your head around a little too quickly, leaving you dizzy and blinking before focusing in on Alastor keeping you upright.

"Careful, my dear! I enjoy the festivities as much as the next depraved sinner, but we can't have the king's secretary hurting themselves now, can we?" His words seemed rude, but he managed to say them with a charm that prevented you from truly questioning it. It didn't stop you from mumbling under your breath, "i'm not his secretary.. asshole deer demon - " You managed to say it quiet enough that he didn't react, but you did catch his ear twitching and turning torwards you for a second. You quickly resumed some random conversation with Charlie or Vaggie, you couldn't remember its contents if you were asked about it today, but it was better than dealing with the repercussions of insulting the radio demon.

It went back to being chummy and pleasant for a moment before you saw Charlie peering past your shoulder, an excited gasp escaping her lips.

"Dad! Come drink with us!" Charlie leaned back from her barstool, Vaggie bracing her drunken sweetheart from falling flat on her face. You quickly turn, dizzying yourself again, before seeing Lucifer making a hasty decent down the stairs. His hair was freshly quaffed, and he wore a clean white dress shirt, that smelled of a sweet cologne when he walked past you. He had that twinkle in his eyes that would appear whenever he was in Charlie's presence. You loved seeing his eyes that way. They'd shine no matter how heavy the bags under them were.

"Of course, kiddo! Your old man's got the night off if you'd believe it! Pour me a.. uh... something strong!" He puffed his chest out proudly, happy to spend some much needed time around demons in a casual setting. He propped himself against the counter between you and Charlie. When you finally caught up to his words, your eyes widened slightly, giving him a gentle tap on his shoulder. Lucifer turned to look at you, and you caught him speechless for a moment. Your cheeks were red and hot, your eyes dazed and a bit watery from laughing too hard, but still reading concerned for some reason. He's seen you in loungewear before, but you were barely put together in this state. Your hair was sprawled across your shoulders, a few strands blocking your eyes. You wore sweatpants that loosely hung from your waist, revealing your middrift that was visible from underneath your cropped t-shirt that bagged off your shoulders. After snapping back to reality, Lucifer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.

"Yes, yes, dear, here I am. Hope you've been having fun - but not too much! Fun.. Aha... what-what is it, what do you need..?" He stumbled over his words, attempting to be charming but failing miserably. A staticky chuckle responded to his words before you could get out what you wanted to say. "Poetry, your highness. True poetry~" Lucifer hated to look away from you but did so anyway to send a red eyed glare to Alastor, who sat across the bar. He scoffed before scooping his freshly poured drink into his clawed hand and taking a quick swig, slamming it back down. He coughed for a moment, hitting his chest with a balled up fist before sending Husk a teary-eyed thumbs up. "Smooth.. Another..!" He squeaked out. You resorted to taking a soft grip on his forearm after he got too distracted to hear you out before.

"Sir, be careful! We both know you can't hold your liquor.. just - be careful." You spoke in a hushed tone, far closer to his ear than you intended to be, but personal space became foggy in your drunken state. He shivered, feeling your breath against the side of his face, then quickly turned his head up to hide the red creeping across his cheeks. Clearing his throat and picking up his refilled glass, he let out a pompous laugh.

"Thanks for worrying about me, but i'm fine! I'm the king of Hell! I can handle my.. whiskey?" He turned to Husk with a confused look on his face, only to get a confirmation on his drink. He sent a charasmatic smirk in your direction after getting a thumbs up from the bartender. You couldn't help but giggle, covering your mouth to not embarrass him or yourself. He always eased your nerves like this.

What a dork.

You smiled to yourself for a moment before feeling a hand brush the hair that laid across your eyeline out of the way and tucking it away behind your ear. You looked up, fluttering your eyelashes as your eyes focused in on the figure. You turned red seeing Alastor brushing his claws across your hair to keep it away from your face. Without proper judgement, you cringed at the suddenly intimate interaction and jolted away from his clawed hands.

"Now, now, I'm only trying to help! You look an absolute mess, darling." You shrunk at Alastor's words. He still spoke charmingly, but it was clear he had a few drinks as well. You let out a nervous chuckle, running your hands through your own hair and crossing your arms over your exposed middrift.

Lucifer's seen you stick up for yourself before. You were as passionate as he was in that sense. So seeing you almost curled up into a ball at Alastor's words, that were spoken closer to your face than he'd ever want to see, made him growl. "Keep your distant, buddy, maybe you should call it night. If you know what's good for you, that is." Lucifer's confidence only grew with the alcohol finally hitting him. He laid his arm across your shoulder, slightly leaning you away from the demon that towered over the two of you. Alastor found a weakspot and knew exactly what to do with it.

The chatting went on for another hour or two. After Lucifer was calmed down by Charlie and yourself, you all managed to have a decent time until demons started heading back to their rooms one by one. Lucifer was going on a rant about some bullshit documents that Heaven sent and how he'll have to set an appointment to go to the embassy soon, while you propped your head on your hand and only half listened. It wasn't because you were disinterested, you were just coming off your high. You still weren't sober enough to warn Lucifer that he probably had one drink too many, but that was a problem for later.

"Why not send your little servant to deal with Heaven, hmm? I've seem them dealing with plenty of your problems, i'm sure another burden won't hurt, wouldn't you agree?" A wave of radio static washed over your body as you felt large hands fully encase your shoulders. Alastor's claws were cold against your skin, your shoulders exposed by the drooping of the oversized shirt you wore. When he was drunk, his little quips seemed much more personal.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, carefully pulling your torso away from his grip." Ha ha ha. I'm fine, Alastor. I can handle myself, even against Heaven. If i have to, I could totally deal with an angel!" You bragged, maybe the confidence of alcohol made you respond, maybe something else.

"How about you? Think you can handle an angel, Al?" Lucifer added to your words, his arms across his chest. Alastor's eye twitched, his clawed fingers digging into his dress shirt where he was nearly killed this past extermination. The static in the air crackled louder for a moment, before Alastor spun you around to face him. His hands were planted firmly on either side of the chair, caging you in uncomfortably.

"Oh rest assured, sweetheart, I'm fully capable. If you ever need.. protection.. on one of your little errands, do let me know, hm? Maybe you'll need a gentleman to accompany - " He slowly moved in closer to you, until your could barely hold yourself up, your breath hitching as you lost the strength to handle his exessive teasing. Lucifer ripped on of Alastor's hands away, before pulling you from your seat and holding onto your arms to brace you from the quick movement.

"Back the fuck off, bitch." Lucifer's eyes were glowing a familiar red, his teeth snarling at Alastor, who was standing with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh dear, did I make a mistake? Is someone a bit protective? Best not lose this one, your higness!"

Damn, that's cruel, you thought, wincing at his words.

You hadn't even confessed any feelings, not that they were clear to you. You considered being in some sort of romantic relationship with Lucifer as your still not entirely sober mind wandered from the frightening moment.

Before you could realize, you were tossed to the side, stumbling onto the carpetted floor with a light thud. Your vision returned to see a fully demonized Lucifer, gripping Alastor's collar as he yelled out some profanities, puffs of flames leaving his mouth as he spoke. You were completely shocked to see how Alastor stood there with a grin on his face. Like he was enjoying it. You quickly stood to your feet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins being more than enojgh to sober you up.

"Sir! Stop!" You reached out and grabbed Lucifer's sleeve, only to be nudged off a bit forcefully. He definitely wasn't using his full strength to keep you away. This was one of the moments you would step out, Lucifer was always impossible to calm down in this state and the alcohol surely made it worse. He lifted his flame engulfed fist, ready to drive it directly into Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Lucifer!" You finally shouted. He paused, slowly releasing Alastor's shirt and stepping away. He scoffed and didn't even snap his fingers, yet a portal appeared behind him. You could see from the outside that it led to his office.

"You're not worth the trouble anyway, fucker." A final puff of fire left his lips as he stepped through his portal that instantly vanished. It left you alone with Alastor in the lobby, the collar of his shirt and a few of his hairs lightly cinched.

"What the fuck is your problem?? Stay away from me! And him? Leave him alone! Damnit, he doesn't deserve this..!" You huffed, making your way up the stairs. Alastor stood alone, his stature still unphased. His eyes shook and he finally let out a shakey breath once you were out of view.

●○●○●

You recognized where to find him and quickly made your way up to his tower. Sure, it stung that he would just leave you after causing such a scene, but that still didn't stop you from worrying about him.

You opened the office door slowly, peaking in to see an empty office. You stepped in and scanned the area, no sign of the king of Hell. You noticed a soft flicker of light coming from the window and went towards that direction. The large windows of the office opened up, one in particular leading to a small balcony that displayed the Pride Ring as a bustling landscape of city lights.

You let out a soft breath, taking in the view before finally seeing Lucifer sitting on the railing, his hands holding him up. The flickering that led you towards him was the flame that sat at the crown of his head, his demon form still intact. You knew it took him awhile to calm down, but you rarely got the chance to see his powerful features this close. His tail was hung over the railing, swaying like how a cats' would. His wings were fully sprawled out, only moving with his breath and his horns, a vivid red at the tips, tore through his scalp, breaking up the purity of his white flesh. The flame that sat between them was much smaller than before and his eyes were still red, but you could see his yellow irises looking down at the city. His shirt had torn from the back, you assumed with how fast the situation at the bar escalated he didnt properly consider the physical damage he'd cause. In this vision of raw power, just the sight of the back of his neck and shoulder blades peaking from his torn shirt was what made your blush.

He turned his eyes towards you, then looked back to the city, adjusting his wings so you could have some space to stand near him. At least he was welcoming you in. You carefully stepped over the ledge, bracing yourself on the railing as you got a full view of the city. The wind left a much needed cool touch to your face, making you let out a soft sigh. You propped yourself up on your elbows, bending at the hips slightly.

"You know, considering how terrible the people are down there, the city really is beautiful. From a distance." You spoke softly, testing the waters; seeing if he simply needed a distraction from the outburst." Actually, it looks pretty similar to a city on Earth. Not as busy and a lot less bloodshed, but still similar. I've never been, but this is pretty close to the pictures i've seen." You described. Sometimes the mention of Earth was good for him to hear too, so you gave that a shot as well.

"They used to be white. Sometimes in the sunlight, you could even see some gold flecks in there." He finally spoke, his voice hoarse. He stretched out his wings slightly, motioning that those were what he was referring to. You twisted around to fully face his wing that had outstretched in your direction. "They were really beautiful."

"I'n sure they were, sir. Do you like flying? I saw you doing it when you were fighting Adam, you seemed really fast." You spoke softly, deciding not to argue the fact that they were still beautiful in this state. He didn't need to debate right now. "May I?" You let your hand hover just above his feathers, the wind occasionally blowing them into your touch. He nodded, even if he was exhuasted, he still seemed anxious at the idea. You carefully trailed your fingers in the direction of the feathers, now a blood red. They were still unbelievably soft and they essentailly leaned into your touch, as you traced the spine of each feather mindlessly.

Clearing his throat and letting himself calm down from the touch, he did his best to respond." I-I used to. In Eden, I would.. mm... I had to patrol and catalog Adam and - well... any progress or changes.." he stammered out his words, occasionally stopping to let out a quiet hum." I just don't see the point anymore. Plus, it's probably not the safest bet." He let his head fall back for a moment, his wings slowly but surely pulling you towards him.

"What about your tail? And.. your horns? Those only appeared after you.. erm... after you arrived in Hell, right?" You moved on to the lower wing that was closest to you. There were some loose feathers that were sticking in all sorts of direction, so you carefully wiggled those out and continued to comb through the large span of feathers, running your nails along the very top with slight pressure. "Hng.. right, yeah. Those are newer." Was the only response he managed to get out.

"The horns.. did it hurt?" You were almost scared to ask, the idea of horns sprouting through your head and breaking your skin on multiple occasions made you shiver.

You continued to groom his wings as he responded. "T-The first time, yeah. But now, not so much. Or maybe i'm just.. I'm just used to it.. Mmh!" He winced mid sentence, his wings curling in with a jolt. You felt his tail rope itself around your wrist and hold it in place. "Oookay! That was n-nice.. thank you, but- yeahh.. Ahha.. that's enough of that." He chuckled nervously, and you looked over at him after not doing so for awhile. His face was flushed red and his chest was heaving. You couldnt tell if he was hurting or.. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean to.. Sorry..." you weren't exactly sure what you were apolgizing for, but considering the possiblities made you turn red.

"Nono, it's fine. It was nice, I promise." He managed to compose himself, but left his tail around your arm loosly. "But, uh, yeah! Yup! Horns are new, Tails' new. The fire's definitely an interesting choice, can't get rid of that even if i tried. And trust me, I tried." He went on, leaning back on the railing and letting his wings tuck in, but still left them in view. You let your head fall to your shoulder, cocking your eyebrow. "Get rid of it? Why? Doesn't it go away on its own?"

"After awhile yeah. But here I am, in a situation where I definitely don't need to use any of this shit - I-I don't know what it's for other than intimidation, but I still can't get it to go away on command. After all this time.. The vodka probably doesn't help either." He huffed, clearly frustrated at his physical appearance. You had taken to fiddling with the tip of his tail as he spoke. You did it much more softly, and it didn't seem as sensitive, so he didn't comment on it. But he still had a red hue across his cheeks and his tail twitched every now and then at certain touches.

You let out a quiet giggle, "It was Whiskey, but yeah i'm sure that didn't help either." You clarified in a teasing sense, then fell comfortably into a silence for a moment. You could just barely hear cars honking, gunshots and music when neither of you spoke.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it definitely does the job. You left Alastor shaking in his boots back there." You said with a smile, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were still mostly red, but you could see them softening just at the sight of you.

"Good! He deserves it. Sweetheart, if that prick ever does anything - "

"Don't worry, he won't. You know he only picks on me to get under your skin." You walked your fingers up his arm before seeing his fist clench at the sensation.

"I-I suppose.. I- Uhm... What are you doing..?" He started to sound nervous, but didnt pull away from you. You stopped what you were doing, realizing one hand was sitting on his thigh and the other was making its way up his arm. You yelped and pulled your hands back, placing them on your cheeks just to gauge the heat immiting from your skin.

"I-I don't know! Sorry! M-maybe i'm still drunk..! Yeah, that has to be it.." you stammered, a blushing mess. The sound of his soft chuckle was quick to ease your nerves." Maybe.. it's curiousity... Do you- not to sound weird, say no if i'm wrong - but.. you can- ahh.. touch my horns, too.. if you want - " He wasn't trying to be crude, you could tell he really just wanted to calm you down. Or maybe he just wanted to be touched. You nod your head slowly, keeping your eyes locked on his.

He shifts his positioning to face you, and leans his head down a bit. Taking each of your hands into his own, which were a bit shaky , he pulls them up to meet his intimidatingly tall horns. You basically shut your eyes in anticipation, only opening them back up when you get a good feel. They were smooth, like the surface of a violin, but they felt heavy. You wondered if they felt heavy to him. You carefully menuvered your hands around the fire that was nearly the size of a matches flame at this point, sliding up to the tips. They were ridiculously sharp. It made you more anxious than anything else, they couldve pricked your finger if you werent being careful enough.

"Remind me to remind you how sharp these are. You'll poke someones eye out if you're not careful. Unless that's what you're aiming for, then go for it." You tried speaking to him as you did this to break the intimate silence of the moment.

He let out a nervous laugh. From his view, he could see most of your stomach, more visible than before due to your reach. You actually felt a particularly heavy breath reach your middrift, making you tense up for a moment. Still, lucifer was careful to keep still after the comment on his sharp horns.

You made your way down to where they met his temples, hesitating for a moment before feeling the skin that was stretched over the bone-like features. It felt like scarred flesh. Your felt your heart drop in your chest at the sensation. When he said it hurt the first time.. the horns must've physically ripped through his skin. Without thinking, your hands trailed down to cup his cheeks, making him lift up his head with a questionable expression." So? Did you get your fill?" He asked, a stupid smirk dancing across his face. You scoffed, taking the moment to look into his red eyes. They almost hid the tiredness of his usual colors.

You noticed his eyelids begin to droop and before you knew it, your lips had brushed together in a tender kiss. You pulled him in closer, your hands still planted on his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up to sit on the railings beside him, never breaking contact during the process. He was careful with you, even as you parted your lips to invite a heavier kiss, he held his shut. You pulled away for a moment, moving your hand to his lower lip and just lightly brushing your thumb across it. His breath became heavy at the delicate touch, his grip around your waist falling onto your hips. You left your thumb on his lip and took the opportunity to slide your tongue slowly into his mouth. He yelped, his eyes suddenly shot open at the boldness of your actions. His suddenly limp hands, almost clawing at your hips. His forked tongue eventually made his way into your mouth, still with caution. You felt the fork in his tongue and smiled into his lips, enjoying this new discovery a little too much. He melted into your touch and followed your movements, barely having the strength to keep his head up on his own. You reveled in the moment, before feeling a sharp prick on the tip of your tongue. You pulled away, giving you both a much needed break to breathe.

You run your tongue across the top of your mouth, the smallest taste of blood hitting you."Oh! Fangs!" You quickly exclaimed, the realization hitting you before you could form a real sentence. He stared at you almost dumbfounded, not sure how to respond.

Once you had both composed yourself enough, you noticed that all of his demonics features had retreated, leaving just his wings sprawled out. He let out a satsified hum as you looked into regularly colored yellow and red eyes. You ran your hair through his hair, that had become messy from the horns, and pulled him into another kiss. Lingering for just a moment, you pulled back and smiled, letting your eyes dart across all he features." You're beautiful, Lucifer~" you hummed, your thumb caressing his cheek. You almost couldn't tell, but he did his best to keep any tears from welling in his eyes.

♡♡♡

I wanna work on my multi-part series after all my exams as a heads to you lovely lil people

[lokideservesahug]

Bordering Professional

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari/ Future Team Principal!reader

Notes: For some reason, my thoughts are consumed by Charles Leclerc and Ferrari/ Future team principal!reader (+a moodboard)

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Charles Leclerc meeting his future team principal... Or so the rumours say. Fred Vasseur is good but this rising star is better. You're not only extremely talented and overwhelmingly intelligent, but you're also incredibly captivating. Cameras have caught drivers stopping to catch glimpses multiple times. From Lewis readily talking to you whenever you visit the paddock (in what he claims is getting to know his future team better) to the time Max faltered for a moment in his post qualifying interviews as he caught sight of you in that outfit that accentuated your features all to well. You're captivating and everyone knows it.

You know the effect you have on many. And if it isn't your brains or beauty turning heads, your family name certainly is. Being one of the last to carry the Ferrari name is certainly a burden but you pay it no mind. People can't even complain about nepotism when you help the team so much and half of the paddock follows you around like lost puppies. Making life much easier for all.

Charles finds it quite professionalism quote infuriating (when it doesn't get him going, not that he'll admit that). Your sheer refusal to blur any lines with him or anyone else in the paddock is infuriating but keeps a small part of him happy, knowing that he doesn't have any competition or at the very least it's all equal.

You're there in Monaco when he gets the win. All bright smiles and Italian praises thrown at him. But they all blur into insignificance when you kiss him on the cheek. It's a quick peck. Nothing more. But gosh does it send him reeling. Charles wants nothing more in that moment than to swoop you into his arms and kiss you senseless. He's brought back to reality by the feeling of Fred engulfing him in a hug and he tries to rationalise his thoughts. "It's just the adrenaline" he tells himself.

He never thought a moment could top that. And whilst he doesn't want to compare two of the most joyous moments in his life, Monza 2024 is certainly up there with Monaco.

He wins. In front of what many would call his second home crowd. He wins in front of the Italians, the Tifosi but most importantly, you. Your professionalism bleeds into all aspects of your life. You don't show much emotion unless you need to, most people can count the times they've seen you smile even the slightest on one hand. Yet he's met by another one of your big grins. And as he realises two of the happiest moments of his life also being you a lot of joy, Charles can't help but fall more and more in love with you. You give him a tight hug and whisper "Well done Charlie." To which he just grins. He takes in your feautures, trying his hardest to commit this moment to memory. He almost swears he can see tears in your eyes as well but he's pulled away before he can come to a definite conclusion.

That night he stays a bit later, wanting to soak up the last bits of energy at the track before he hits the streets of Monza. He finds you and does something that he'd only dreamed off. He kisses you in an adrenaline filled haze, desperate to show his appreciation and affection for you. Charles didn't think far ahead, but as the kiss goes on, he's surprised that you didn't pull away and hit him. After a few more moments you both pull away. He expects to be lectured about how unprofessional it was, about how it ruins the both of your careers and images. But instead he's just met with a quick peck (the same type as the one you gave him at Monza) but this time on the lips. His eyes widen as you chuckle slightly and turn on your heel. "Well done Il Predestinato. See you in Baku."

And as he watches you walk off, Charles' suspicions are confirmed. He knows he shouldn't, you're probably his future boss and at the very least you're his co-worker. Heck your family surname is surrounding him, his suit is brandishing the logo of the company you'll one day inherit.... But Charles doesn't care. He just knows that he's completely and irrevocably in love with you.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Sorry for how random this was... Also I tries my hardest to make it gender neutral. Idk where this came from or why but I hope you like it...

And please send any asks if you want to, or want me to elaborate on this...

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[vivmaek]

Astrological Decans (Aries, Taurus, Gemini)

✰ my masterlist

✽ Aries

❀ 1st Decan ♂ (March 21 - March 30)

People who fall under this decan are going to have an easier time getting out of bed compared to most. Of course they get tired, and they’ve gone through hard times just like anyone else. Yet, they somehow muster up the courage to embrace every new day. They push this attitude upon other people, whether they like it or not. Their pioneering spirit launches them into leadership positions, and they’re confident about what they know. Enthusiastic and ready for anything, it is hard to get in their way. Impulsivity often leads them into trouble, but their mistakes don’t weigh upon them too heavily. Dwelling on the past isn’t something they get caught up in. The way in which they carry themselves with a sense of unshakeable confidence is magnetic and alluring. Their unpredictable nature keeps people on their toes, they bring excitement into the lives of other people.

⚘ Aretha Franklin - March 25

⚘ Lady Gaga - March 28

⚘ Vincent Van Gogh - March 30

❀ 2nd Decan ☉ (March 31 - April 9)

Original and unlike anyone else, this is usually the first thing noticed about people who fall under this decan. Their bold and expressive nature often garners an audience. Standing on their own isn’t something they fear. In fact, they prefer it. Independant and relaxed, they don’t appreciate it when someone interrupts their flow. Their anger is a bit explosive and others find this to be shocking.It’s best to give them space when upset. They’ll come back around, and they will be just as charming as ever. They’re not impulsive, but they are decisive. They make their minds up quickly, and stubbornly stick to the narratives they’ve created for themselves. Due to this mindset, making a strong first impression is a priority of theirs.

⚘ Marlon Brando - April 3

⚘ Heath Ledger - April 4

⚘ Maya Angelou - April 4

❀ 3rd Decan ♃ (April 10 - April 19)

These people live life in a big way. And at times, their approach can be a bit hedonistic. Their desires run strong, and their ambitions are large. People born under this decan are unafraid to speak their minds. They take conflict lightly, and might make other people angry through a poorly timed joke. Their jovial nature allows for them to be easily forgiven, and they can give out a sincere apology if need be. Being subtle is not a strength of theirs. Everyone knows what's on their mind. They see no reason to hold back and often share too much information. As lovers, they are incredibly passionate and very devoted. They give their all when it comes to relationships. Their affectionate feelings are obvious, they do not play coy. Nothing is left to the imagination when it comes to these types.

⚘ Saoirse Ronan - April 12

⚘ Charlie Chaplin - April 16

⚘ Conan O’Brien - April 18

✽ Taurus

❀ 1st Decan ♀ (April 20 - 29)

These individuals are well known for their will-power and tenacity. They are determined and steadfast, their patience is one of their greatest strengths. Their deep passion for life allows for them to remain focused on what matters most. Highly trustworthy and devoted, they bring stability into people's lives. These types are pleasure seekers. Their sensual nature desires exploration. They’re willing to try almost everything at least once. Adventures with them are thoughtful and slow moving. They have to stop and smell the roses along the way. Even when seemingly distracted, they never lose sight of their dreams. They know that they’re on the right path, but aren’t in any rush to reach the end. This same approach is also applied to their relationships. They aren’t likely to rush into commitment or marriage, but they are still dedicated.

⚘ Dev Patel - April 23

⚘ Shakespeare - April 23

⚘ Ella Fitzgerald - April 25

❀ 2nd Decan ☿ (April 30th - May 10th)

True artists, they have been gifted with creative talent. They also have the discipline to fully commit to their studies and projects. More than a bit of a perfectionist, they don’t stop until every detail is in order. Being critical is a negative trait of theirs that might be overtly present. They are highly intelligent and often see things that others miss. This can be frustrating, but also beneficial when setting themselves apart from the crowd. They have many goals and are far more ambitious in comparison to the other decans. Their adaptable nature allows for them to overcome obstacles and they rarely get sidetracked. Coming up with solutions on the fly is easy for them. Communication is another talent of theirs. They share their thoughts effectively and are direct in their speech. These types always finish what they started and never leave people guessing.

⚘ Donatella Versace - May 2

⚘ Catherine the Great - May 2

⚘ James Brown - May 3

❀ 3rd Decan ♄ (May 11 - May 20th)

Financial security is important to Taurus third decans. They are devoted to their careers and professions. Their materialistic nature is driven by a keen eye for aesthetics. They like to be surrounded by beautiful things, this includes people. Social prestige is important for those under the third decan, they take appearances into consideration when developing relationships. They can be particularly stubborn and prideful. It is not likely that they will take advice from other people. This isn’t because they don’t trust people, and this attitude isn’t coming from a place of arrogance. They just need to figure out everything on their own terms. They don’t like to be rushed, and they don’t like being told what to do. Maintaining a sense of independence will always be a priority of theirs.

⚘ Robert Pattinson - May 13

⚘ Megan Fox - May 16

⚘ Nicholas II of Russia - May 18

✽ Gemini

❀ 1st Decan ☿ (May 21 - 31)

The silver tongues of the zodiac, these people can talk their way into anything. Incredibly charming and inquisitive, they have a way of making everyone feel seen and heard. They pick up on details in conversation and speech that others don’t. Their high level of intelligence is noticed quickly. Being the smartest person in the room was never a goal of theirs, it just happens naturally. People who fall under this decan are especially fond of games and tricks. They love a good prank and are always looking to get into some sort of scheme. The people who surround them are constantly laughing. Their cutting remarks and witty insults keep people on their toes. Finding themselves within a debate is a common occurrence. Conversations with them are seemingly endless. Their minds run a mile a minute. Hardly anyone can keep up with their fast paced way of life.

⚘ Stevie Nicks - May 26

⚘ Lauryn Hill - May 26

⚘ John F. Kennedy - May 29

❀ 2nd Decan ♀ (June 1 - June 10)

People who fall under this decan are social butterflies. Delicate, beautiful, and charming. Others can’t help but fall in love with them, even their annoying qualities become endearing over time. Often subjected to rumors and speculation, they’re used to people gossiping about them. They may appear harmless, but these types are masters of chaos. Others trust them inherently, they especially trust the words of a Gemini third decan. At times, people who fall under this decan can be a bit flippant with the truth. This can lead to disastrous consequences. Their diplomatic nature often positions them within the middle of conflict. They feel a need to smooth over communication issues and often step forward to do so. Gemini third decans have many passionate opinions to share. They care about what other people have to say and expect to be granted the same treatment. They love encountering new and interesting people. Cultivating relationships is an important theme within their lives.

⚘ Marylin Monroe - June 1

⚘ Angelina Jolie - June 4

⚘ Emily Ratajkowski - June 7

❀ 3rd Decan ♅ (June 11 - 21)

Gemini third decans have an unquenchable curiosity towards life. Adventurous and independent to the extreme, their life path takes many interesting turns and sometimes diverts straight into the woods. They are highly intelligent and have an outlook on life that is unconventional and offbeat. Their ideas are controversial and ahead of their time, finding a solution to any given problem is easy for them. At times they can be a bit too blunt and unconcerned with the feelings of others. Some may appreciate their brutal honesty, but most will be put off by it. Gemini third decans do have an interest in the greater good and want the best for people, they show this through logical thoughts rather than impassioned speeches. It is likely that they have a deep interest in social justice and reform. They have a vision for what the future could look like and will do what they can to turn it into reality.

⚘ Anne Frank - June 12

⚘ Tupac June - 16

⚘ Paul Mccartney - June 18

[remember-the-fanfics]

Earthborn (Hazbin Hotel Reader Insert)

Oh geez this made me realize I have religious trama while writing this.

Spoilers if you haven't actually watched hazbin hotel.

Also apparently the characters are taalll. Minus Niffty

Just test on how I'll write hazbin hotel so to be continued or not

"Go fuck yourself pompous prick!" (Y/n) yelled at Adam, their anger getting to them.

"Don't speak to me like that! You came from me!" He responded. "You are alive because I fucked-."

"Up, yeah I know. Being God's chosen people, Adam and Eve. Cast out after eating the apple, had two sons and one killed the other. Blah blah, I was raised in church." They told him. "And in a club in elementary school about the Bible so I know a bunch."

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other in confusion, (Y/n) never talked about these parts of their past.

"Then why are you arguing with me?!"

"Because if you get to be here after getting banished from the garden by God himself then I see no reason why Sinners that want change themselves to get shouldn't." (Y/n) said staring at Adam with their arms crossed.

The Angels watching started to whisper to themselves.

"(Y/n), you know why you are here." Said Sara. "Please do not get involved with the next issue until we get to that."

(Y/n) looked way up to where Sara and Emily were seated. "Very well, apologizes I just wanted to get that out of the way." They bowed while speaking before standing straight. "...This is probably has to do in how I've been in hell?"

"Yes, (Y/n) (Middle Name) (L/n), you are still earthborn, not yet a sinner or a winner, have been in hell for just less than a year. How did you get there?"

Shocked faces across the room from everyone minus (Y/n), who looked uncomfortable with being called their full name.

"(Y/n) is that true?" Asked Charlie, surprised at the information. She knew (Y/n) didn't look like a sinner, kept a more humanoid look than most and was shorter than most of the people at the hotel.

"Yeah, I'm still human or well Earthborn as it was called. I didn't tell any of you since I didn't want you to worry." (Y/n) told Charlie look at her and Vaggie. "How did you even know?" They asked the Seraphim in charge. "I have an... okay disguise." Looking at themselves, with pointy ears,sharper teeth, and their eyes were not a normal color. They atleast didn't look human enough to question.

"We can tell by your soul. It still shows your the weight of your sins or what not. Not like I forget what one of my millions of too many great-grandchildren look like." Said Adam and with a grin and a snap of his fingers, (Y/n) felt the necklace they wore break in peices as the magic it held broke with it.

"I would rather be dead than be related to you, prick." (Y/n) said with deadpan look.

"It took awhile to realize you weren't just a weird sinner soul so we told Sara when we noticed all of you earlier." Said Lute, finally butting in before Adam could argue again.

"(Y/n) how did you get into hell?" Sara asked again, tried of this again.

"Not sure? Its kinda just a blank space between being on earth and then in hell." They answered with a shrug. "I found someone to help me somewhat look the part and then Vaggie found me while I was wondering around."

The earthborn was complete being too nonchalant with being in hell.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about not being from hell?" Asked Emily, earning a look from Sara.

"Well I mean at first for safety and then to keep anyone from worried about me? I'm kinda more... fragile compared to anyone else since demons and sinner have... an easier time getting up from a normal serious injury than I would." (Y/n) having to think of what they said before they actually saying it.

"I threw you off a building into a fight, how did you survive that?" Questioned Vaggie.

"Well Angel Dust caught me slash soften the fall and I mostly hide until Husk picked me up to leave."

"Why have you been helping Priness Charlie Morningstar with her project even when you are earthborn?" Asked Sara.

"Because it's a good cause? If I was a sinner I would want the hotel to be there to even give me a small chance to get into heaven even if you all don't believe in it. It's a humane way of handling the population down there. If redemption can happen to people while they are alive, why wouldn't it happen while they are dead and in hell? As along as they put in the effort to be good person, they should be a good person."

"If you know the words of the Bible why didn't you spread it down there?"

"Because being pushy to the wrong person could end me? And they really don't really think highly of you all. Plus for me if you heard how people like me would end up there for something out of their control, I would have trama with it."

"Why are you talking about it now if you have an issue with the Bible and God?" Questioned Adam.

"Oh, mostly because I'm pissed off. I don't have an issue with God, at all. It's people with opinions that wrote the book that got translated to many time with out checking by people who also had opinions. The Bible is.. fine. Heck, I didn't even knew there was a Lilith involved until Charlie told me."

(Y/n) sighed, taking a deep breath.

"What's gonna happen now? Are you going to kill me? Actual make me a sinner? Send me back making seem crazy or thinking this is all a weird dream until I actually die?" They asked. "Because if you send me back crazy, I'm gonna actually kill myself."

"No! Let's not do that, please." Pleded Emily to Sara, scared for (Y/n)'s safety.

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to do that." Said Sara.

"Because the Bible says it's a sin or because you actually don't want me too?" Questioned (Y/n), they were tired of this.

"They could become an Exorcists, it would be funny." Said Adam, laughing at the thought of (Y/n) killing their friends.

"How many times do I have to tell you I would rather die than be anything associated with you?"

"You're soul has yet to be judged but you've seen more than any earthborn have seen in many decades. You could stay in heaven as Winner or angel. We could send you back to earth. Which would you want to do?"

"I want to continue to help Charlie see this though." Said (Y/n).

"Your soul would be damned forever, (Y/n) as a sinner. I would not let that happen to any earthborn in your place in good conscious."

"Then send me back as I am. When I die, wherever that may be judged me as I will be."

"(Y/n), you're too young for-."

"It's Hell, I know but it can be nice when you get use to it just like Earth. Please just let me help until I'm ready to go home."

"...Very well, I'll give you till a month time to sort this out for yourself."

Gives you enough time to help for get set for extermination.

[am-i-interrupting]

Lucifer or vox with a curvier shorter reader who looks sorta scary but is an absolute sweetie and is super extroverted despite like dark clothes and dark makeup? i think lucifer would totally be into that lol

headcanons preferred!

Lucifer

Listen, it is no secret that this man’s type is intimidating and curvy. Not to bring up the exes and compare but look at Lilith.

This man’s porcelain skin was just made to be darkened by black lipstick.

He is absolutely in awe of the way you two contrast. His lightly colored clothing against your darker colors? Ugh, perfection.

He will just watch you put on your makeup, just curving his body around yours and resting his head on your shoulder or head.

Has asked you to do him up like you. Made you do a photo shoot like that together and sent all the pictures to Charlie.

She now has pictures of her dad in an “emo phase.” Unfortunately, it does not have the same blackmail impact as his photo collection does. . . Shame.

Absolutely obsessed with the way you dress. 

Now as much as he loves your clothes, damn does he love you out of them.

This man will worship every part of you but he’s a thighs man.

He’s into oral? Automatically a thighs man to me (this is a joke, I can think of a single character this does not apply to)

He is just constantly squeezing (if you’re okay with that).

Walking by you? A squeeze to your hips.

Hugging you from the front? A squeeze to your ass.

Hugging you from the back? A squeeze to your chest.

He likes the fact that you’re closer to his height. It makes kissing you easier.

Constant kisses and hugs and telling you how much he loves your body and your personality and your style and just you.

Vox

. . . Big tiddy goth girlfriend make brain go brrrrr.

Oh, yeah, definitely flushes when he first sees you because wow and Valentino just made fun of him so his face is flushed for a different reason.

Is surprised when you’re the one to approach him and are actually very sweet.

That just makes him more intrigued.

Eventually you do start dating and it’s basically just “Looks like they could kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll” and “Looks like they could kill you, will kill you” dating.

He is. . . not amused (liar) when you get your lipstick all over his screen.

He loves your style though. Will shove Velvette if she dares to critique any of it. Will immediately run away from Velvette after doing said action.

Definitely darkens his wardrobe a bit in order to match you more. (Pilot Vox wardrobe comeback! Pilot Vox wardrobe comeback!)

Vox is also a grabby man so he just constantly has a hand on you.

On your waist, on your hips, on your shoulders.

Whatever it is. Whatever he can currently reach.

He will constantly have you in his lap or sitting on his desk.

He has squeezed your chest or ass in public. He will do it again. He has no regrets. He will continue to do so and have no regrets.

[nozhdyved]

aaaaagh charlie!!:3 congratulations on 100 ♥️ i knew your writing would be making its mark when i first read your hang the dj/black mirror piece hehe.. so happy for you; you should feel so proud of yourself—writing and posting consistently, while rewarding, can be quite a task !! here’s to the future of your blog and your pen:)

for your ask game : from the sfw alphabet — gestures with art donaldson?

sageeee :( <3 ur sososo sweet and im so glad that we became moots, ur writing is lit what inspired me to create a blog of my own and i look up to ur works so much!!! more black mirror aus coming just for u trust! love u love u love u mwwwwah!!! writing dilf!art bc i knooowww thats ur thang sagey

The floorboards creak with a knowing weight, and the door shuts gently. Like Art had the premonition to know that you were already half-asleep on the couch, his soft footsteps echoing like love and trust. You blink blearily to see his head bobbing closer to you, then a pause as he frowns.

"Did I wake you?" he asks in a hushed voice, concern etched onto his face. You shake your head, sitting up on the couch and yawning, patting the space next to you.

"No. Come sit, honey," you murmur lowly, watching as he shuffles closer and sits down next to you. He immediately seems to fold into your warmth, heavy head dropping into your lap. Obediently, like second nature, your hands find their way to his hair and comb through gently. You can feel his body relax as you do so, and his arms wrap firmly around your waist.

"Missed you," he whispers, burying his face into the softness of your stomach. He lifts up the hem of your shirt to have skin-to-skin contact with you, sighing with content as he begins laying soft kisses along your stomach. "All day. Every second."

Art's calloused hands move along the span of your skin, like he's mapping out every curve and dip he's allowed to explore. He's always been touchy and needy, one hand on your thigh or looped around your shoulders in public, but it's tiring nights like these where it becomes truly obvious.

He touches you gently, like a sculptor admiring his work. Thumbs gently digging into your sides as he traces along your ribs, reverent as if he's an artist. His eyes are filled with love and utter, undiluted admiration, as he continues to kiss your heated skin.

"Love you," Art whispers, and it isn't just a statement to him. It's a promise, like he needs to make sure you know how sincere he is when he says it. His hands are experts in communicating what he can't with his words, the way he gently squeezes you. Even when he's laying down, all submissive, he's still got this claim on your body that you gladly welcome.

"I love you too," you respond, and he takes your hand, gently pressing it against his lips in a soft kiss. It's easier for Art to talk to you this way. With actions, instead of words, with hugs and kisses compared to long, rambling sentences. But either way, you don't really mind. So long as he's there.

taglist: @girliism, @imperishablereverie, @faiztheap, @musingsofheaven, @yardofbrunettes, @forgetmenotnympho, @sweetheartfaist, @sweetestfaiszts, @hangels, @cowboyfaists, @jesuistrestriste, @artstennisracket, @artdonaldsonbabygirl, @aurorlia, @museboos, @hayleygrrr, @love-ella333 . click here to be added !

wanna join the party? click here !!!

[sparrowrye]

The Archivist's Oath || Chapter 20: results

Summary: Alastor finds an archivist who can translate Old World texts. Equally bound to their duty, reader and Alastor traverse the tricky landscape of love and commitment…but to whom and to what?

Chapter Synopsis: We see the results of our work, Alastor has more internal battles, and a new threat arises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared out at the ravine full of broken branches and torn roots. Parts of the ravine wall had crumbled away, covering the floor in sharp, jagged rocks and the plots of farmland were completely gone, their soil now coating the ground. It was a mess.

People had crawled out of their deep caves to start the clean up. The next storm was coming tomorrow but the more they cleaned up in between storms, the less they had to do and the easier it was to clean at the end of the season. Women were sawing away at branches while the men lifted heavy rocks to make a path for carts to come through.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Rosie asked, stepping up beside me.

My shoulders sagged further. "It didn't work."

The words added another layer of weight just from speaking them. I had never been good at handling failure. Usually I would get recklessly angry, but this time all I could feel was disappointment and an entire lack of motivation to do anything.

"Didn't work? Didn't work?" Rosie came around to stand in front of me. "This is the least amount of damage we've ever experienced."

"But the trees and the farmland...they're all—"

"Better than any previous Storm Seasons," she interrupted, bending down to be level with my eyes. "The farmland always gets washed away. Our walls are constantly crumbling. And yes, there's branches all over the ground but this is so little compared to years past, dearie."

"You saw the Middle District on the way here. This is nothing," Husker supplied from behind. His hands were in his pockets and he wore his usual scowl. I had seen the damage of the Middle District. The houses were all wrecked like a tornado had swept through. There was barely anything left.

Alastor had been standing at the edge of our viewpoint, surveying the damage. His bright red coat contrasted the gray atmosphere. He kept his back to me as he said, "You haven't experienced Storm Season before."

"That's right," Rosie agreed and put a hand on my shoulder. "You haven't seen what a normal Storm Season looks like. Trust us when we say this is the best kind of damage we've seen in ages."

I surveyed the destruction in the ravine, but it still looked anything but a success.

"So now what?" I asked. I knew I was struggling to hide my disappointment.

"Now we rinse and repeat." Everyone turned at the sound of Lucifer Morningstar's voice.

The short ruler was flanked by his cheerful bright-eyed daughter, his cane tapping on the stone as loudly as his heeled boots. He came right up to me and my neck sent a silent Thank You to him for being the same height as me.

"You are the catalyst for something great," he said with a grand gesture. I'm sure it was meant as a compliment, and I originally took it as one, but the rational side of me remembered I was helping a dangerous city.

No. The city wasn't dangerous. It was just a collection of people trying to survive. Their leaders were the ones taking over smaller communities. Everyone else was just trying to live. I was saving their lives, wasn't I? I was saving humanity, right?

"The wind shields are a huge improvement!" Charlie stepped forward, her grin as wide as ever, and moved like her father with wide gestures. "The Middle District is a mess but it always is. Everywhere else is so much better!"

I picked at one of my nails. "The shields are working?"

"Yep! They're going to be even safer the more we improve them," Charlie went on. I noticed her father watching her with an approving smile. "Vox is already making improvements and fixing the ones that are broken."

I tensed at the mention of his name but, fortunately, no one seemed to notice. No one except Alastor. He saw the stillness in my hands and the tension in my shoulders.

"What kind of improvements?" I pushed out.

"I'm not sure," Charlie answered. "But he said he's experimenting with ways to protect the Middle District better."

I eased at the response. I didn't like the idea of Vox meddling with a project of mine, nor being close to the Agriculture District, but if he was experimenting with a desolate and unpopulated district, then I had no reason to worry. I wouldn't have to worry about him unless I was moving between Districts, and even then I had Alastor or Husker with me.

Lucifer cleared his throat. "Make any changes you need here. When you think you've got a good enough plan, we'll do the same to all the other districts."

I baulked at the sudden authority over a serious project. My plan was originally meant to 'brace' Rosie's district in a way of saying Thank You to her for her kindness. I had expected, but hadn't really accepted, the idea that my work would be used for the rest of the city.

This was actually happening.

"Lucifer." Alastor stepped forward to lean down in the king's ear, "a word."

Lucifer glared up at him and was ready to snap back, but Alastor had already stepped away. Charlie continued to talk to you and Rosie about the new plans as he followed the Radio Demon.

"What is it?" Lucifer demanded once they were far enough away, arms crossed.

Alastor rested his hands on his cane and sneered down at the smaller man. "I expect not to be pulled into meetings regarding her work anymore."

Lucifer scoffed at the second command. "You most certainly will be pulled. Just because she does better work with you doesn't mean you get free rein of her assignments."

Alastor wasn't bothered. "It stands to show that she does exceptional work with a goal she's passionate about, as well as when she's finessed and not maimed."

Lucifer winced at the reminder. "Regardless of what happened, Storm Season is just one of our many problems. If we're being brutally honest—"

"Then everyone should be bowing to me," Alastor interrupted. "Coaxing a suicidal Archivist into working again is not an easy feat."

Lucifer's lips pulled up into a devilish grin. "My sources tell me Rosie is to thank, not you."

"She deserves credit, of course," Alastor replied smoothly, despite the sting to his ego. "But the dynamic between me and our lovely Archivist is also to thank. I found, delivered, saved, and convinced her to work in our favor. Truly I am a man of great magic."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Once Storm Season is over, you're getting pulled into a meeting about what we need to take care of next."Alastor's lips curled into a snarl but before he could say anything else, Lucifer continued, "And since you're so 'full of magic' you can convince her to translate this."

A swirl of gold pulled Alastor's hand into an upright position. A flimsy book appeared in his palm, one that Alastor instantly recognized. His red eyes found Lucifer's hard stare, a stare that dared Alastor to push his luck and place on the food chain.

{|}

Alastor asked me again to join him in the living room. I decided to do a show of good faith and bring down a book to translate. He noticed, of course, but said nothing. I kept the book open on the couch cushion beside me and my translation notepad in my lap. It took only a few minutes to feel comfortable and I breezed through my translation better than ever before.

Tonight Alastor wore a simple red long sleeve with pale red lines. It mimicked his coat but the small, white collar that was undone by at least two buttons made it causal enough. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of his chest fur poking through.

I could still remember what his chest looked like during and after his injury. I could see the blood staining his clothes and clumping his fur together. I could also remember the softness of it after I had changed his bandages.

My mind then drifted to the day he bathed at the stream. His fur had been pressed to his body with water, dripping off him like a wet animal. Well, he had been a wet animal. He had looked anything but the well-composed, cruel, and terrifying Radio Demon.

Then I remembered when he asked me to help wash his hair. My cheeks burned and—

Bright light flashed in the room followed by a large clap of thunder. My body froze, muscles braced, then eventually eased down when there was no sign of danger. The fire continued to crackle, emitting warmth to fight off the cold draft that sneaked in. The temperatures had dropped significantly this time around.

Niffty had spent most of her time lying in front of the fire until she dozed off. Alastor attempted to coax her into going to bed, but when she didn't comply and fell into a deep sleep, he gently lifted her off the carpet and carried her upstairs. My mouth nearly dropped open at the sight.

Another bright flash and crackle of thunder. The storm was worse this time around. The wind shrieked on the other side of the stone walls, thunder shook the floors and shelves, and lightning was frequent. I was too ramped up to focus on my work anymore, so I sighed heavily and flopped on the floor like I used to do in my bunk.

I shifted closer to the fire as another clap of thunder shook the tower. Storms at the bunker were never this bad.

"Have you finally achieved boredom?" Alastor asked as he came down the stairs.

I quickly sat up. "You say that as if I'm incapable of being bored."

He practically glided to his chair with his long legs and I shifted around to keep him in view. "You lived in that bunker without going insane. You must be invincible to boredom."

I smiled despite myself. "That must be why I'm still alive then," I met his eyes, "after knowing you for so long."

He scoffed, clearly not insulted, and crossed his legs. "I find myself rather entertaining. Your work, however, meets the criteria." He reached for his glasses and book. The gentle smile on his lips spoke volumes.

I remained were I was for a few moments, debating with myself, before finally stretching out again. I stared at the ceiling and clasped my hands together over my stomach. I drew in a slow, deep sigh. "You were the first time I didn't feel bored."

Silence hung between us.

I dared a glance in his direction to see if he was annoyed by the comment. The only expression I got was a blank stare. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign, so I looked back at the ceiling and wrung my hands. "Sorry," I mumbled.

In a way, I had gotten my wish for a more entertaining life, albeit a very challenging and scary one. And painful. Alastor had promised to show me more of the world. It wasn't in a way I liked, but there were moments when it looked like he was trying—really trying. Maybe things would turn out okay.

Alastor watched you from his chair. He had gone very still, stuck in decision paralysis. He wanted to lay beside me, to touch my skin again, to watch me give in to his touch rather than flinch away. Ever since Vox, Alastor wanted nothing more than to make you seek him for shelter. But the cavern between the two of you felt far too wide.

You were the first time I ever felt calm, he wanted to say in return. Why he kept quiet, he'll never know. Perhaps because it was easy to be open around you, and that fact unnerved him. You had very little magic yet could pull out a forbidden side of him with ease.

He lifted his hand to his lips, pressing the cool tips of his claws to his cheek. The memory of your first kiss had chased him in his dreams for weeks after you had banished him. They had subsided when he brought you here, but now? Now it was something he couldn't stop thinking about. It didn't help that it had been the first kiss he initiated; the first one he had actually wanted.

Your eyes found his again and his chest tightened. He wanted to lay beside you like that night on the rooftop. He wanted to feel your hands running through his hair, firm but gentle, and with all the care in the world. He wanted to feel the heat of your words when you were pushed too far. He wanted those gorgeous eyes on him at all times, your focus on nothing and no one else other than him. He wanted to pin you to the floor and have another kiss just so he could feel the buzz of electricity that zipped under his skin.

There were a lot of things he wanted but couldn't have. Acting on any of those wants would damage the weak bond he had managed to piece back together with you. He always had a plan. He always knew what to do and when to do it. He always knew.

And yet, he could do nothing but sit in that chair with your eyes on him and his hand over his mouth.

{|}

The storm eased up the following day. The inside of Alastor's tower remained the same—dark, gloomy, and moist. The air felt thick and I worried the books would be damaged, though there was nothing I could do about it.

After translating a few more pages of the plumbing and electricity texts, I finally wandered downstairs. Niffty was on the couch crocheting something—probably a bug—and Alastor was in his usual spot near the fire and his radio. He wore a dark long sleeve, halfway between black and navy, and his bright eyes were already glancing towards the stairs as I came down.

How the hell was he not sweating?

"Wonderful of you to join us," he greeted. I nodded and quietly went to his bookshelf for the novel I had been previously reading, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. Niffty showed me her crochet project—indeed it was a bug, a cockroach no less—and let me sit beside her.

I tucked my legs up and leaned against the armrest as I began to read. The silence was comforting—the crackle of the fire and hum of radio static were the only things that permeated the peace; aside from the constant rain just beyond the walls. I recalled the long winter nights with my family in the bunker, huddling around a small clay pot and candle, and playing several rounds of card games.

When my brother left it was just me, my mother, and my grandmother. We handled everything just fine by ourselves, but my brother had left a hallow, quiet, irreplaceable hole that was felt by all of us.

Once my grandmother passed away, things took a nosedive from there. My mother couldn't do much of the heavy lifting chores anymore and she spent most of her time sleeping away the hours of the day. I felt her grief as heavy as my own and it nearly crushed me had I not been too busy trying to keep us alive. She stopped translating altogether after she began making too many mistakes, ones I was fortunate enough to catch.

It wasn't long after my grandmother's passing that my mother became ill. I watched as my mother succumbed to her grief. She stopped cooking and could barely make it from her bed to the couch without running out of breath. And when I tried to play cards with her on rainy days, she couldn't concentrate. She would slip in and out of sleep until one day, she didn't wake up.

I spent a week trying to dig her grave. My crying and screaming got in the way, and my usual chores were just as demanding, somehow more so. For that entire week I kept her body wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Once I had finished her grave, right beside my grandmother and her mother, I carefully lowered my mother's body into the grave. It was raining that day.

Niffty suddenly shifted off the couch and it pulled me back to reality. I took a deep breath and my throat loosened as I remembered where I was, the ambience of the tower filling my ears once again. As confusing as Alastor's presence was, I wasn't physically alone anymore.

Niffty scurried into the kitchen to make a light snack for lunch. Alastor let out a heavy sigh then removed his glasses and placed his work on the side table. He stood to his full height and stretched out his long arms, giving me a chance to run my eyes along the muscles pushing against the dark fabric.

"Would you care for anything?" he asked, meeting my eyes as a blush surfaced to my cheeks. I looked away.

"Sure."

I waited until he walked into the kitchen before sagging against the cushions. Things weren't as tense as they were before, but the awkwardness seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Did he feel it too? Probably not.

I stood up and stretched out my arms and legs, and twisted my torso in an effort to relieve my usual back pain. I glanced at Alastor's chair, at the indent in the cushion from his weight. His leather-bound journal was filled with various papers and his round glasses sat atop it. What was even on those papers? What did he spend all his time reading?

I wandered closer, nervously checking around the corner in the kitchen. Would Alastor be bothered? Would he get mad at me for not asking him instead? Would he answer truthfully if I asked what his notes were about?

I figured a small glance couldn't hurt. I carefully pulled one of the pages further out and felt my hands go cold. It was Old English.

I pulled it out the rest of the way and examined the note. It was plain and simple and written in his handwriting. Where did he read this? Did he know what it meant? Has he been trying to decipher my translations and learn how to translate himself? Was that even possible?

Footsteps came up behind me. I turned, bracing myself, and looked up to meet his eyes. They blinked back at me. "I see you found something."

I gripped the note tighter. "Wha—what is this?"

He stepped past me and lowered a plate of bread and cheese on the side table near the couch. "A White Angel prisoner carved it into the floor of her cell." He moved back to his chair and I stepped out of his way. "So I copied it down."

I glanced at the paper, then back at him. "Were you going to ask me to translate this?"

He tilted his head slightly, the dawn of a question on the tip of his tongue, but then he suddenly closed it, eyes widening. "You can read it."

I nodded and looked at the paper again. "It's Old World language. Old English," I explained. The handwriting was crude and clearly a copy of someone else's writing, but unmistakably Alastor's.

Now he was leaning forward in his chair. "Can you tell me what it says?"

His sudden interest sent a prickle of fear along my skin. I felt compelled to deny him, but then remembered this paper wasn't from my archive. I could technically freely translate this. And considering what the paper said, I felt he most certainly should know.

"It says: When the waves are calm, more will come."

Alastor stared at me for several moments, lost in his own mind.

"It could be a warning," I suggested.

He rubbed his chin. "Or a threat."

I read the note to myself again. "Do you think they meant literal waves?"

"Perhaps."

Feeling comfortable enough, I moved closer to him to put the note back on his side table. He watched me intensely as I did, though I avoided his eyes. They were as hot as the fire on my back.

"Do you think..." he began gently, making me stop in front of him. "...that you might be able to translate what the angel says?"

My mind was split. One half of me wondered if it was possible to translate something other than text, while the other half realized that I might be used in an interrogation if I could. Another tool.

"I...I'm not sure." I shifted uncomfortably and glanced into the small fire. It burned away the mist that clouded the room but made my clothes stick to my arms with sweat. "I've never tried," I murmured.

Alastor gestured towards the couch. "Consider it. We have plenty of time thanks to this storm."

His offer gave me an out and I took it, settling on the couch and pulling the book into my lap. But I couldn't focus. The note still burned in my thoughts and I silently repeated the phrase over and over again.

Was it a threat? More had to mean more White Angels. That much was obvious. But the waves didn't make sense. Was it used in a literal sense? A metaphor for chaos? Waves of people? Storm waves? Ocean waves?

Then it hit me like a lightning bolt.

I stood suddenly, clutching the small book to my stomach.

"The coast."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

You're getting a juicy chapter next week :P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@drevisrose @until-thedaysof-spring @torustesseract @sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette @eris-norwega

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reflection Reader:

@until-thedaysof-spring

**click HERE to learn more about being a reflection reader

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The TV show gives me so many lukercy ideas, Luke and Percy meeting again in the sea of monsters:

Luke cupping an injured Percy's face: Why couldn't you runaway with me huh?

Percy bleeding, a cut on his forhead, ocean eyes going wide at Luke's words: Luke I-

Luke holds both of Percy's cheeks and brings his mouth to his for a first kiss. Fully distracting Percy, who is helpless but to kiss back. He drops his sword distracted

Luke pulling back from the kiss, knocks Percy out with handle of his own sword: Everything would have been so much easier if you just came with me that day.

It’s certainly going to be interesting seeing the new dynamic between this version of Percy and Luke. Unless of course they go nowhere with it, which is unfortunately possible because no one knows what the fuck they’re doing with the show.

But! Assuming they don’t fuck everything up…

Compared to the book, they really parted ways on a positive note. Percy’s not even really upset about his fight with Luke (as in, he’s not worried about hunting Luke down like a hound after a fox to “get revenge” and it doesn’t seem like he’s at all scared of Luke). In fact, he seems more upset about Kronos constantly appearing in his dreams.

So, there’s potential for them to have Percy be as casual and friendly with Luke as Luke was with him when they reunited in the book. Not sure what they’d do with that except maybe make the end of season 2 fight between them more serious than the end of season 1 fight. But again, who knows if they’re even going to keep that scene in.

(it makes speculation super fucking annoying tbh)

Having them still be friendly with each other would be an interesting way to play it though. Especially if their fight led to scars between them (please, please, please, it’s literally all I’m asking for).

Also I’m wondering if Percy is going to continue to do that head tilt thing Luke does. It would be cute if he did. It’d also be fantastic if Annabeth noticed and it pissed her off. lol

As for a kiss between them…I don’t think they’d let Charlie kiss Walker for another two years. lol So if there was a kiss between Luke and Percy it probably wouldn’t happen until Titans Curse or Battle of The Labyrinth (because of how long filming takes). And I think it would be played off as a bad thing (although, you know me, I don’t really care about that).

I realized after typing all this out that I just started speculating about the show instead of potential fics and I’m sorry (but I don’t wanna delete it). Also you should write that idea. 👀

[witlesswitch]

RadioApple Meets in the 1920s

Lucifer left Hell to raise his daughter somewhere where she would not be exposed to constant danger. Unfortunately, heaven was out of the running, so that left Earth. He surfaced in 1920s New Orleans, Louisiana, and got a job working night at a radio station.

wc: 1.4k

notes: This is the hypothetical first chapter of a fic I am thinking of writing. I have been mostly writing onshots and since I like knowing there are people interested in my work when I do a longfic, I wanted to posted it here to see if anyone would be intereste din reading it./ if so please like and/or relog

one thing about hell, is it is no place to raise a child, especially not an angelic one who's holy power is basically a beacon to the demons until she is able to control it, so Lucifer surfaced to Earth. The year is 1920, the War to End All Wars was complete. Lucifer had to pretend to be a human, so that meant he had to find a job.

As a creative he knew he worked best in a place where he could create without bounds. Based off past experience, Lucifer did very poorly with authority and figured his best bet would be to find a small company that he would work with and be in a position of power.

“Thank you for calling Radiance Hour, if you have a story you would like to share we do request that you mail it-” a Bored sounding man answered the phone

“Good morning, I am Lucifer Mmm… Magne!” Lucifer stumbled over his own name as he realized people had been telling his story in a very negative light and he probably should’ve changed his first name too. But he plowed through hoping the stumble wasn’t too obvious, “I'm calling about the job posting,” Lucifer was holding Charlie on his hip as she played the long cord connecting the phone to the rotary. She had cute little nubbed horns and her tail was wrapped around his leg. While he had not put a glamour on her, he had placed on himself to get used to appearing as a human. His previously white skin he had toned to appear like a pale human, his blond hair continued uninterrupted by any horns and his wings were carefully stored away beneath the skin. Thankfully little Charlie hadn't gone her wings yet since they would be incredibly uncomfortable especially with her little fangs growing in.

“Pleased to meet you, Lucifer! I am Alastor Freedman, host of Moonlit Radiance! You want to work the booth! Do you have prior experience?” The man asked. All boredom leaving his voice as the pitch raised and the speed increased.

“Yes, of course!” Not. Lucifer had no idea. He was lying out of his ass, but he was desperate, and he hasn't human-ed since… Whenever he and Jesus took a break in the desert.

“Well, why don't you come on down to the studio and we'll do a trial show. When are you free? Any time after 7pm?”

“I can come down at 7, but I haven't found my daughter a babysitter yet since we're new in town,” The line went silent, and Lucifer was sure he had blown his chance before the voice came back through the line. The man was probably a great radio host he had a lot of life and personality in his voice. When he wasn’t speaking it was like the listener was just waiting for him to resume. He could read a phone book and make it sound interesting!

“That'll be great! The more the merrier, although this is expensive equipment so, please do mind her.” He was unbearably polite compared to everyone in Hell and Lucifer wasn't sure how he felt about it, but in his gut, he felt like the other shoe could fall any minute now.

-

At 6, Lucifer and Charlie began their trek towards the New Orleans Radiance Studio, otherwise known as NORS. The street was dark and wet, but this was a night show, so it made sense that he would be working late. Lucifer figure that would be easier since he wasn't sure how human his disguised actually looked, so if it was dark, it may be easier to full the human, although he may have forgotten about their recent mastery of electricity. Little Charlie was in her stroller a big round thing that Lucifer found himself using his full body weight (and maybe some angelic power) to prevent it from racing down the hill towards the center of town as they make their ways to the outskirts where the studio address was.

‘knock… knock knock’ Lucifer tapped on the front door. At this hour it had already been locked, as one would expect from a business during the trying time. there's been a couple unexplained disappearances. Lucifer hadn't worried to much he was sure even his daughter could take on a human. (He will go full archangel before he let any being intending harm near his daughter.)

“Who’s there?” A silhouette could be seen through the ribbed glass of the front door.

“Uh, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’m Mr. Magne, you are Mr. Freedman with Radiance, right?”

”Ha! with a name like that I beg you struggled to get a job, but don't worry, we are more than accepting here!” The man’s bright smile ushered him int the dim home, “I'll be frank with you dear, I thought you were some teen prankster!”

Alastor had a lot of enthusiasm that Lucifer normally would've been able to keep up with but this time he felt more like he was caught up in Alastor's current. He led a tour through the partially renovated house, ending with a large backroom on the upstairs where it had been turned into a radio studio booth with inside having a spot for musicians to perform and another area that was fir the host and a possible guest could relax during the interview, and then once the other side was all the technology that Lucifer lied about knowing.

“I know it's a bit outdated compared to the newer models hope they aren't too different,”

“Quite, actually. I'll have to ask for some time I get used to it.” Little Charlie's stroller was left in the foyer and Lucifer held the little girl in his arms wrapped up in her favorite blanket.

“Very well!” Alastor chirped as if he wasn't in need of a booth technician, but Lucifer appreciated the partial lie nonetheless, “Would you like to begin our trial run? The checklist for our show is on that notepad to your left. It has the cues and keyword in the script, and just a general checklist for getting set up.” Alastor’s air of being was so different than everyone. In heaven the angel were so uptight no room for playing around or changing what was expected. Heaven certainly would have let his daughter into a place of business. And then Hell… Well, he wasn't surprised Alastor was nothing like his hellspawn. He was polite with a kind smile, and it made Lucifer feel special even if he knew Alastor probably treated everyone like this, and maybe more humans were like this compared the ones back home.

-

The trial run did not go smoothly. Lucifer couldn't figure out how to strengthen the audio at first, but soon Lucifer was able to recognize the patterns associated with each nob turn and quirk of Alastor's voice. The worst part was that Lucifer had kept Alastor in the studio all night.

“I apologize our trial run went so long and kept you even later,” Lucifer had a fussy Charlie beginning to wake up his arms, “But I think I have the hang of this old version now.” Lucifer made sure her human glamour was it place, but that did not help the pain when she rammed her little dull horns into his ribs, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“I would've stayed that late anyways, we were on air after all.”

Lucifer’s face fell at the fact that when he had asked if Alastor needed to turn off the “on air” sign, the strange smile he had given him meant that they truly were on the air and it wasn't a trial run at all. The man was nearly frozen with embarrassment. He had done horrible at first and worried he may have actually driven away some of Alastor’s listeners.

“Fret not, little man-”

“Hey!”

“I had been doing it all on my own before you called, my listeners are very understanding. And since you’ve been hired you can only improve withe experience!” Alastor reassured Lucifer; annoyingly he had bent at the waist to talk to Lucifer who was still sitting in the chair where he had operated the sound quality, but Lucifer was too relieved at hearing he had been hired to care much anymore about whatever Alastor had done, “And if your little one always sleeps so well she can continue to stay.”

[cherry-pop-elf]

Farmers Market

Bill Weasley x Reader

((Can be read as platonic because there needs to be more platonic fics :>))

Summary: You wanted to go to your local farmers market. Get some fresh foods, see interesting things, just have a nice day. That’s when you see a new stand pop up. How could you resist? Not every day you see a gaggle of red heads

You just LOVED visiting the farmers market. Once a week, you would visit. Given it was in such a close walking distance, it made life easier. Fresh food for good prices. How could anyone refuse such a thing? A favorite routine to enjoy.

With your basket on your arm, and outfit dusted off, you were off to the little slice of heaven. Just walking down the street. Giving a wave hello to your neighbors, and having pep. Was always so nice to just get some fresh air. Was a perfect day. Just the right amount of sun, and just enough breeze to keep the heat low. You just adored it.

When you arrived you visited your favorite farmers. Saying hi to them, and picking out your favorites. With how often you visited, they always made sure to set aside the best for you. Supporting local farmers is the best, and it’s appreciated after all.

As you did your routine, you noticed a new stand. The little pop up was quite eye catching. Bright colors that catch attention easy. Said bright colors being brilliant red hair on each person there. You had never seen hair of such a shade like that, unless dye counts. Can’t be dye, since the smallest of the children had that same wild shade. Had you invested quickly, and you were soon walking over.

“Well hey there-!” You assumed the oldest said, as he was having a little girl on his hip. Cute little pig tails, and snuggling her tightly. Protective of him, and clearly defensive of anyone who got too close. Must be the youngest, and the baby girl.

“Hey. I haven’t seen this little stand before. You knew here?” You asked, as you looked around. It just had so many things. Hand made paper, soaps, fruits and veggies, meats, and many different types of hand made things. Plenty being sweets.

“Yep. Names Bill. Bill Weasley. That guy over there is Charlie, that guy with the book is Percy, those two trouble makers are Fred and George, the one talking to mum is Ron, and this little girl is Ginny. Yeah uh. Mum has a lot of kids.” He chuckled, as the baby sister kept playing with his ponytail. Had you giggle, as she yanked on it. Making him squeak, and her giggle.

“What can we do ya for?” He asked, as he tickled his baby sister’s tummy. Made her squeal in delight, as she kicked her little bare feet. You adored how sweet he was to the little girl. So full of love.

“I was actually interested in those tins. With the sweets-“ You asked. That seemed to catch the twins attention, and they weee quick to be side by side with their eldest brother. Big, proud, smiles on their freckled cheeks.

“Those sweets were hand made by these two. Don’t worry, I made sure none of them will turn you into a newt.” He teases, as the twins have a pout. Regardless, they were quick to pick the tins up. Excited to share.

“This one tastes like grape! Grapes my favorite-!” “And this one tastes like oranges! Oranges are MY favorite-!” The twins would echo each other, as they explained what those candy’s were. The hard candy, the chewy kind, just such confidence.

“Percy is the one to make the hand made paper. He’s pretty proud of that. Ron and Ginny help with the soaps. That leather-? Me and Charlie. Charlie and I would hunt for a bit, and turn the leftovers into soaps and leather. No waste in this family.” Bill would explain, as he would hand Ginny off to Charlie. She gave a huff, but that second sibling was quick to entertain her.

“You are all quite talented. It’s admirable.” You would admit, as you were in awe that people so young were able to create candy. GOOD candy no less, as you were offered a sample. It was like heaven. You couldn’t compare it to any other candy you’ve had before. It was beyond words.

“We all have a talent for something in this family.” Bill would shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. You thought it was. You found your new favorite table now. You just had to. These kids deserved to know their hard work wasn’t for nothing.

“I’ll have this, and that, and that-“ You would pick out. Sure it was going to be a bit pricey, but this was your spending money for a reason. Besides, it went to a clearly well deserving family. The way those twins were beaming was just to much to handle.

“MUM MUM-! WE SOLD OUR CANDY-!” They were cheering, as Bill would chuckle. Hardly could count the change, as the twins were jumping for joy to their mother. The woman giving them a tired, but proud, smile.

“Means more than you know. Mum is uh….Complicated about the twins wanting to grow up to be inventors. Like I get it, but exactly a job that can be successful.” Bill would whisper to you, as he would place the items in your bag. You gave a nod, as you watched them bounce in pure joy. So proud, and happy. They deserved the support.

“Will you be here next week?” You asked, as he smirked. With a nod. “Yeah, for sure.” He winked, as you chuckled at the banter you shared.

“Hypothetically-“ “That’s a really bug word-“ “Yeah. Anyway, what would happen to be your favorite flavor?” The twins would ask you, with those big doe eyes. How could you resist? You told them, and they were quick to huddle to a corner to brain storm.

“Be careful. If they like you too much, you’ll be pranked to hell and back.” He warned you, as you brushed it off. What’s the worse they could do?

“Can’t wait to see you again. Those two are going to never shut up about you now. Their ‘first customer ever-!’ They’ll cheer.” He was sounding more proud than the twins were. You admired that greatly. He clearly wanted the twins to succeed at their dreams. Made your heart warm.

“See you soon-!” Ginny would wave, as Charlie would mimic her tiny wave. You would return the gesture, before taking your leave. Still able to hear those twins cheering and bragging to their siblings.

When you finally returned home, and unloaded your things, you noticed something odd with your items. Made you think.

For starters, you swore the candy you had bought had changed color. Somehow brighter than it originally was. The paper you got as well was off. You swore the black specks on it were moving. Made you worry they were bugs, but you touched it to feel nothing. Another odd trait was there was a little note.

“Come to Ottery St. Catchpole sometime. You can’t miss us. Hope to see you sometime. William.”

Suppose you made a bigger impression than you thought. Had you giggling with excitement, that you completely missed the fact that a runt of a gnome had climbed out of your still packed bag. Quick to make itself cozy in your backyard.

Guess that’s what you get for talking to strangers.

[deafsignifcantother]

sanctum

♥ summary: after being flabbergasted at meeting a deaf person for the first time, and after husk gives him a little lesson, angel approaches with an apology. based off of if music be the food of love woot woot but i changed the reader to be a little less obvious it's the other protag so it's easier to consume for people who aren't interested in the series bc i love my audience :3 ♥ relationship: angel dust and x deaf woman reader (platonic) ♥ word count: 2.2k ♥ notes: for @glitched-out-dusk , reader talks with alastor a lot bc i actively hc alastor knows asl and i'll never change that in my stories

The first time Angel saw you, he didn't try to communicate. He just analyzed you, staring you up and down, wondering if you were faking your Deafness. You stared at him back with a small smile. The moment only lasted a few seconds since Charlie decided it was time to butt in and start a conversation with you. Angel kept glancing over, his arms crossed, watching your body movements and how your eyes flicker around. You stare at others' lips, which is a weird habit, and though you have a clueless look in your eyes, you never look away from others' faces.

You are the first visitor in months after Sir Pentious. Since he came, Charlie hoped another visitor would seek redemption, and her positive affirmations came true. Angel only has expectancy this day. It's not like any other person will come knocking on the door.

His brain sinks into dirty thoughts while he watches you: how loud would you moan if you were doing the nasty? What would please a deaf girl most?

Husk can practically hear the porn star's thoughts, but Angel Dust's forcing those thoughts into his head to repress what he really feels. His heart decides on feeling a tinge of forsaken loneliness, he's going to be forgotten again, isn't he? But you're the one most isolated with the language barrier. You might be the forgotten one, right? Does he, selfishly, want that?

It is all Angel can do to imagine what you must be feeling, understand the situation you've found yourself in; dealing with everybody and losing social interaction. He's become a part of that cause, hasn't he?

Damn you. Damn you for forcing him to learn something new. Damn you for making him realize how empty he feels in the group and how he doesn't want you to feel the same way.

So sometimes, after you go to sleep, he'll stay up with Husk, both cooing at him and begging him to teach basic sentences.

Simple signs stick with Angel, even as drunk.

"Is hello that easy?" He asks. Husk just laughs.

"Some signs are a lot easier than you'd think."

Husk is rusty in his ability. He's only had to use the language a few times when he was alive, and he doesn't remember ever interacting with an actual Deaf person. Surely, he had learned it for a good reason. His soul is so long gone that he can't even remember.

But the alphabet sticks with him, and so do gambling-related signs. He picks apart those sentences and tries to teach Angel the words rather than their meanings when pieced together.

And one night, not even a week since you arrived, somebody tapped Angel's shoulder as he leaned over the bar's counter.

He turns, hair bouncing with the whip of his head, and he bites the inside of his lip when he sees you. He finger spells your name, and you can only give him a sympathetic smile in your sleepy haze.

"Good job," you sign to him before turning to Husk. "Do you have water over here, or is it in the kitchen?"

He stares at you blankly. You, water, pointing to the bar, pointing somewhere else, question face. "Yeah, give me a second."

Angel eyes you, taking notes in his head. Your hands move slower when you sign to Husk, compared to signing with Alastor, and you tend to sign high so Husk can focus on your hands instead of your eyes.

Holding back a yawn, you rub your eyes while sitting on a stool, taking the very full glass of water and sipping the top. If you sit here, they'd have to acknowledge your presence, but they need to be more confident to hold a conversation. What could they even talk about? Card dealing? Sex?

You look between them and smile to yourself, dropping your head and looking away in case they try to start signing. You're just here for water, not to be a test subject. The more they practice, the better they'll be.

A small groan leaves your throat. As you turn to Angel, he stops talking to Husk, closing his lips and searching your lifted hands. You sign your name, giving him your name sign, hoping he'd understand. When he stares at you in panic, you fingerspell your name and then wave it off, signing your name again.

Husk speaks up, dropping his voice. "It's her name. You don't gotta fingerspell it all the time."

Angel glances over, whispering as if you'd overhear. "Do I gotta use it everytime I see her? When do I use it?"

"It's a fucking name, you don't go around naming Charlie every time you see her."

Your eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them. Husk pauses, and so does Angel, almost in alarm.

"Idiots." You're not even sure they understood the insult, but you keep going. You grab the glass with one hand, signing with the other. "I know you filled this up just to keep me here."

Husk shrugs, pretending to understand, and grabs a bottle (copying your actions) and drinks it. Angel stares with red cheeks, awkwardly holding his own and mimicking the movement.

You fight a frown; they're so annoyingly cute.

So you chug the drink, closing your eyes as you do so. Angel would have preferred if you had stayed, but he had to say his goodbyes with his hand twitching as if he was waving wrong. You get up from the stool. "See you tomorrow," to Husk and a simple wave to Angel.

They both watch you walk off.

"Could have been worse," Husk mumbles.

"Great. What if she thinks I'm a dumbass." He puts his check in his hand, his elbow pressing hard into the wood of the counter. The words sound faint coming from Angel. The change of heart has Husk grinning behind a bottle. "What's come over you?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, it's whatever."

.

Once again, once you wake up, you walk downstairs and head straight to the bar. But Husk isn't there. A prominent frown falls onto your face. The water you drank last night was the most comfortable liquid you've ever had the pleasure of drinking in Hell. It cleared your throat and overstayed its welcome in your need for hydration. You enter behind the bar, eyeing the crazy amount of bottles and the array of fridges. How does he remember all of these products? Perhaps he just drinks them and hopes they do something. Your hand runs across the area for mixing, feeling the sticky covers. Maybe he's not the best bartender.

You grab a glass, wiping off the rim just in case, and you eye the hose-like thing nearing the sink.

Husk watches from afar but your focus is too direct to perceive his presence. You push down on a trigger as lightly as possible, and a powerful burst of water fills the cup, wetting your arms. You place the glass on the counter and use a hand towel to dry yourself off. Is this thing stained? You hope not. It's so unclean back here.

You see the blurry colors of Husk in the corner of your eye before you look up at him. He can't help but give you a small, unadorned smile.

You figured the water out yourself; that's cute; the whole ordeal was a show he would have paid to watch.

He crosses your body and stands next to you, grabbing the hose from you and showing you the switch on it. It's not a button but a pressure-related scale. Your mouth forms an O.

Angel isn't the only one who wants you to feel welcomed.

Vaggie is having issues letting Angel be the second guest getting so close to you. She knows that he is undoubtedly someone who can't read the room and will fit sexual words into any conversation. His ability to read the room is either nonexistent or actively ignored. She watches him practicing signing with Husk whenever he can. Maybe he's trying to learn complete sentences before harassing you.

She also notices that whenever he hears the click of your shoes against the floor, he'll look up with excitement, clenching his fists to calm down his delight. He always tells himself, 'this is the day I'll actually talk to her.' The day doesn't come for a while since whenever he sees you, you're by Alastor. Alastor will tell you stories about his life (lies?) and things that happened in the hotel. He'll describe the nightshade assemblages before explaining how often their railings have fallen apart.

Angel can't understand anything that demon says but glimpses at your hand shows how comfortable you are around him. Angel stares expressionlessly at the two of you, signing back and forth, and your smiles, wide. The jealousy heats him constantly, but nothing ever comes from it.

It will take a while before he can talk to you like that. The realization puts him on the brink of giving up.

Beer dribbles downward, discoloring the tips of his chest fur. The bar is messy, as if it's not the middle of the day. His confidence rises when he drinks. All he needs is a moment where you're alone. Or not.

With all his might, he drags himself sloppily towards the lounge and almost flops onto the couch next to you. He steps over the threshold, inhaling deeply. Alastor eyes him with his every step, and you follow his gaze, staring at Angel. Angel braces himself by gripping the top cushions when he staggers close enough to the couch. He raises his right hand, fingers wiggling in thought. It almost comes across as a "wait."

Alastor's eyes go to you, half expecting you to look back at him and roll your eyes, but you continue your stern gaze at Angel.

Angel drops his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes, "I'm sorry."

The chandelier darkens his face from above, and gravity pulls down the fluff of his head that seems to have been unbrushed this morning. At your silence, his confidence melts leisurely down from his head to the tip of his fingers.

"Sorry for what?" You drop the smile that was on your face and adjust yourself to face him a little more. The major thing you notice is him signing with one hand comfortably.

"I'm sorry you only have him to talk to." Angel's interpretation of 'him' wasn't a point but a wave in the direction, almost a 'that guy over there.'

You laugh. "We are talking now, aren't we?"

More apprehension burns a hole in his chest. He finally stands up, using two hands instead of one. "I'm running out of signs I know."

"Are you sure?" You finally switch your position on the couch to face him completely, ignoring Alastor at last. Your eyes look him up and down. "You look tired."

Tired, he knows that sign.

"Just a little."

You hum, reaching out to him. Your fingers brush his fur, feeling the drip, trying to wipe it away. "Sure."

You unveil a smile that looks as if it were snatched from Charlie's at her bondings. But your eyes continue to stare intently. "You should go to sleep. Stop drinking so much. It's not even night."

"I got things to do."

"Really? Astonishing."

He snaps into focus. One day, he was worried about whether he was waving right, and days later, he signs simple sentences you understand. His vision aims at your eyes, the area he wonders he should actually be looking at.

His thoughts are interrupted by the clearing of a throat. "I'm afraid you're intruding," Alastor says. Angel frowns at him, and you follow his gaze.

"Alastor," you sign with a psah, "he's just practicing."

"Rather annoyingly, my dear. I don't know how you do it."

"With patience."

Patience, Angel doesn't know that sign. When you whip your head back and give a playful shrug, you lean in. "He's going to get pissy if I talk any longer. You're doing a good job, Angel. Don't doubt yourself."

You grab his hand, holding his pointy fingers and maneuvering his fingers to form a thumbs-up. If he doesn't understand half of your signs, at least he can understand that. And then, with a wink, you turn back to Alastor, who lets out a hum in disapproval at the whole ordeal.

The flicker of the lights went unnoticed as Angel marched over to Husk, a big smile on his face. He had left a manly collection of bottles surrounding the area, which Husk had politely taken care of.

Husk chuckles before Angel can even get close. "Yeah?"

"You won't believe it," Angel boasts. "I actually got her approval."

"Wow," it almost sounds sarcastic. "Good work."

Angel plops down on a stool, holding the edge counter to stretch out his hands, dramatically straightening his shoulders and putting pressure on the middle of his palms. "Now, whiskers, do I get a reward? I've been a good boy."

Husk grimaces as if he's smelled a foul odor. "Not excited for the day you learn how to sign that."

"She'll be ecstatic," Angel smiles at himself. "Won't even see it coming."

[liveontelevision]

Okay, this started as a rant about Lucifer lore and turned into an argumentative essay on why Lucifer is a bottom. My b.

18+ Smut ahead, lots of angst

•••

Here's the thing about Lucifer. He was an awesome dreamer, fell in love with Lillith, and was banished to Hell. Literally forced to see what the gift of good will can do at its worse. Unless he's made some personal contact with a sinner to get like updates about what the gift of good will did right, he had to be stuck in a depression for centuries, at least until Charlie was born. And while that would've definitely given him a new passion, he'll never feel confident in dreaming again.

With how much he dislikes sinners and what they represent, i wonder if there had to be some strain on their relationship when it came to Lillith taking control? They never really talk about if they had a fallout or if she just disappeared, but i dont think they really got divorced either.

When Lucifer looks at that family picture and winces, does he feel bad about not contacting charlie? About something he did to make lillith leave? Or maybe he feels bad about being upset at lillith for leaving in the first place? There's so much to umpack there i live for the lore.

Love Interests:

But when that comes to potential love interests in the future, Lucifer hasnt had to court anyone before like ever. Not in the circumstances that they live in a big city like Hell. So when he finally ends up catching feelings, he has no idea. People around the hotel literally need to pick up on context clues for him and have an intervention to tell him he's in love again.

Even if he hasnt seen lillith in 7 years, their relationship had to be a drastic change compared to new love. I think that his love interest would also pick it up before he does, and you would let him work at his own pace. Fuck, it is so important that he goes through this process at his own pace.

With so much strain on his past relationships with loved ones, he fully gaslights himself into thinking he doesnt deserves and isnt allowed to feel affection anymore. I hate making characters i love suffer. But i feel like in his state of mind he'd go through depressive episodes and panic attacks, maybe some night terrors. Theyed be about his past and his subconscious would essentially tell him he has feelings again, and he shouldn't act them in case he scares you away and abandons you, like heaven. Or drives you away like lillith. Or purposely blocks you out like charlie. Mans is struggling i swear. He needs some comfort.

After finally coming to terms, hes a nervous wreck about every decision he makes. He'll constantly stare in the mirror in the mornings, making sure he looks his best, would plan mental scripts before even having a conversation with you, and would become a bumbling mess just trying to make jokes out of the situation, some base level actions, like how we saw in the show. He'll manage to finally ask you out, but all he really knows how to do is profess an undying love (i feel like his confession to lillith was hella dramatic) so it was a little awkward, but still cute. And of course you said yes.

So let's say its been 5+ years since he moved into the hotel, met you and finally managed to confess his feelings. When it comes to the actual relationship? You give him reassurance and support him through his mental episodes, and laugh at his jokes and praise him for everything he does. He has such intense imposture syndrome though, that even other demons have to reassure that theres no way you dont love him with all your being. Because it is literally obvious to everyone but him.

He's pretty good at doing the romantic fluff stuff in public, he loves to make a big show out of treating you like royalty and even trying to embarrass you when you become close enough. He's always more charasmatic in public, it seems easier than doing that alone.

Not in a negative way, but Lucifer is so never to be alone with you. You take the lead a bit more in those scenarios, suggesting ideas like movies or just coming up with small talk yourself. He needs someone who'll be patient with him. Being alive for millions of years AND being left or shamed by all your loved ones during that time is literally the definition of Truama.

Of course he's been bottling all that shit up, he has no one to confide with. There's no one who's been alive and witnessed it all the way he has. So bless you for loving and caring for him even without understanding all hes been through.

You'll have some rough patches, where this emotional side locks him away from you and everyone else. It might be a few days before you see him. He'll lock himself in his office, pumping out ducks by the dozen just to keep himself from sleeping, because he's scared he'll have night terrors if he feels asleep. He's in a constant loop;

"what if i fucked up?"

"what if i try to talk about it and then they realize how bad i fucked up?"

"what if that's enough of a reason for them to leave me?"

"what if i scare them away?"

"what if that fucks this up?"

"what if i fucked up.. Again..?"

After he leaves his office, youre excited to see him out and about, but you cant make a big deal out of it. You have to speak to him calmly, make sure he's physically okay before talking to him about his thought process. It might take awhile, but he'll eventually trust you enough to open up. And of course it'll never be bad enough for you to leave him, he's just struggling.

Physical Contact:

It takes him an even longer time to become physical with you. He hasnt been intimate for over a decade at this point, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with little affections like hand holding, cuddling, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing? Hoo boy, he melts after your first kiss. It couldve been even a small peck and he would still become a nervous wreck just trying to ask for more.

He'll ask for physical touch more than provide it at first. You'll give him a quick kiss and he'll look up at you super eager just like, "another?" He'll grow into tastful pda's, linking arms, quick hugs and smooches, holding hands all that.

He becomes putty in your hand when you're alone though. You'll nudge him to lean against your shoulder or even lay his head in your lap while youre lounging or watching movies. He becomes so relaxed in your presence, that you'll want to suddenly peck him just to see his suddenly flustered reaction.

You'd give him massages that he would always be hesistant over. He was always a little nervous that he wasnt giving enough to you, but you were quick to assure him that wasnt the case. You'd straddle his hips while giving him a slowww massage. It starts with light touches, tracing your fingers over his shoulder blades and spine. You'd trace your fingers over his chest when you would cuddle too, depending on the position. Or stroke his back sweetly. It was enough of a distraction to keep his mind occupied, away from any spiraling thoughts he might be having.

He purrs. Convince me that he doesnt purr. (You cant)

Being secluded for so long probably means that he doesnt fly as much as he used to. It was probably a passion of his, and he was especially delighted to share it with lillith and charlie.

So during those 7 years he barely flew, he also didnt take care of his wings. I feel like theyre something to be summoned, so they arent constantly tucked into his back. You'd basically scold him sometimes to just let you clean his wings.

You'd do it in like a spring-type bathhouse that Lucifer would have in his castle somehow. It was one of the first intimate moments he's experienced in years, so he was generally going insane. Feeling your hands and a little comb rake through the feathers on his giant wings? You'd have to tap his shoulder sometimes to keep him from falling asleep to the relaxation alone. After the first time, the water you used was pretty dirty and he had a lot of loose feathets that were combed out. Damn, he needed this.

Intimacy:

After awhile, you sit down and would have a discussion about being intimate in bed. Lucifer would be absolutely nervous about overstepping by asking this, (even though you've been together for about a year at this point). He would use his mental scripts and basically practice what he wanted to say.

It would mainly be him saying he wants to do this because he loves you and youve done so much for him that he wants to give back to you in this way. It would consist of him saying its okay if you dont want to, or if you ever want to stop to just say so. But of course you want to, how could you not?

It would start slow, he actually tries taking the lead in this specific situation. He would kiss you first, his lips trembling at the thought that this is actually happening. Feeling his nerves, you'd cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs lightly. That will help him ease up enough to start letting the passion take over more.

He'd become more confident in slipping his tongue into your mouth and placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him. Lucifer would get lost in the moment, pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed and licked and bit his way across both your shoulders and down to the softeness of your breast. After leaning back to look at the damage his eyes would become increasingly wide, looking up at you with a flustered expression. Seeing you losing it as much as he was, gave him enough courage to keep up at it.

He would almost hesistantly take a hold of your breasts and would massage them softly, running his thumbs across your nipples and becoming absolutely delighted at the reaction you gave. The adrenaline from the pleasure would make you start grinding against his lap, which would make lucifer's hands on your hips pull away for a moment and make his breath stutter. Lucifer would look you up and down as if he didnt know what to do next, studying your body with darting eyes. You'd press a small kiss on his forehead before guiding his hands back onto your hips with yours, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

"Are you okay, Luci?" He would gulp before nodding his head and turning ridiculously red across his face, maybe from the idea of what was to come, maybe just from your voice alone. You'd keep your hands ontop of his at your hips as you'd keep moving, letting out breathy moans. He would be holding his breath without realizing, an absolute nervous wreck just from the view.

He would already be hard just from the previous make out session, so this would cause him to lean his back against the bed, his strength giving out. You'd keep up at it, feeling his hips jolt up to meet yours at times.

He was a sweaty, twitching mess in front of you and you hated to admit how much that excited you.

His scripted plan was immediately forgotten, but he was quick to remember that he wanted to please you.

He'd snap out of his state of intense pleasure, to carefully switch positions, him looking over you with your back against the bed.

You both discuss it, of course, attempting to set boundaries before hand. Even just the tender discussion would get him riled up. So he'd lean foward and kiss you again, showing off his forked tongue before peppering kisses down your entire body, until he was close enough to let his hot breath heat up your folds.

You'd feel his nervous breath on you before delving in. He would be hesistant of course, but would be quick to get used to your entrance after running his tongue across your entirety multiple times. Lucifer loves providing pleasure this way, so his brain immediately knew what to do once the nerves past. He was quick to take a tight hold onto your thighs to keep you in place as he entered you with his demonic lengthy tongue. He would look up at you as he sort of aimlessly dug around at first, waiting for a reaction. Once he'd see you dip your head back with a muffled moan, he would close his eyes to focus all his attention to that one spot. He'd reach his thumb around to circle and massage your clit that he would find far too quickly. You'd arch your back and try to get more friction against his tongue, but it's easy to forget that he is quite literally the strongest being in Hell. You weren't going anywhere.

He'd love feeling your hands in his hair and would absolutely lose it feeling you pull hard when he'd hit just the right spot. As soon as he set a steady thythm and was hearing your voice become more unhinged, he'd speed up to an extent that you didn't realize was possible after going for so long. You discussed cumming before and he made it very clear that he was okay with you finishing on his face. Fuck, he wanted it. You still warned him, moaning out his name to get his attention, "I-I'm almost there- K-Keep doing that.. like that..! Luci-" you'd almost direct him though the whole process, but were quick to become a moaning mess unable to communicate with words. You'd reach your limit and he would let you buck up into his face this time, loosening his grip on your thighs. He'd pull away after licking you clean, sending overstimulated pleasure across your entire body, with a line of your juices following his tongue as he lifted his head. He would pant with his tongue still sticking out of his mouth, and even through hazy eyes you loved seeing his demonic tongue and thinking about how it just drove you to climax.

Things would switch up again, and you'd sit him against the back of the bedframe. you'd have another quick discussion before seating yourself slowly on his length, which had been throbbing for any contact since the night started. The first few times, he'd do his best not to cum immediately. He hadn't been touched like this in a while, after all. You'd only begin to move once you made sure he was okay since his struggle was written all over his face.

The moment you began to keep a steady space, he would jut his hips upwards, becoming needy to feel this sensation he hadn't felt in over a decade. The first time didn't last long. It was sweet, and he would constantly moan out your name and babble on about how much he loves you. The entire time, you'd be praising him through every move until he was going too fast for you to get a sentence out.

He'd cum inside of you, another previously discussed topic. You essentially had to beg to convince him it was okay. You'd collapse onto his chest, a position he didnt see often. While the two of you always cuddled, you were so focused on making sure he was comfortable, Lucifer realized you didnt often get the chance to just relax on top of him. So after realizing that? Aftercare was amazing.

He'd let you sit with him inside you for a while, before pulling you off and immediately cleaning you up. Some nights, when he felt especially dominant, he would lap up his own cum from your incredibly sensitive cunt. He would swallow some of it, but was mainly pushing anything that dripped out back into your entrance.

After cleaning you up, he would wiggle his way back underneath you and pull you onto his chest, enjoying taking care of you the way you took care of him.

After the first night, lucifer would be much more confident. He'd have that healthy glow, but would be more assertive during meetings, more communicative and wouldnt shut others out as often. It really helped him realize how much you gave to him, and he was determined to give all that and more back to you.

[lucozaynkisses]

A guide to reinventing yourself 📝

One of the greatest beauties of life is you can be whoever tf u want to be. U can transform urself into whatever u desire whenever u desire. Here’s my guide on how to do that 🤎

1. Analyze your idols

The first step of this process is looking at the people you admire the most. What do you admire the most about them. Is it their energy? Their personality? Be very specific when doing this.

2. Make a Pinterest board

This is one of the best steps. Create a Pinterest board of who the new version of you is. Add quotes, pictures, anything that you want that matches the new version of you. How do they dress? What energy do they give off? How do they go about their day to day life? Add things to ur board that represents ur new self.

3. Write as the new version of yourself

Now you are going to write a journal entry as ur new self in the present tense. What do you do first thing in the morning. What habits do you have. How do you feel. What do you look like. What are your friends like. Be very detailed. What do you see when you look in the mirror and how does it make you feel? What are your hobbies?

4. Compare your current self to your new self

In a journal or in ur notes app write current self and new self. Write things ur new self does that ur current self doesn’t. Does your new self do their nails? Do they exercise? Do you currently do that? Write everything down and see what matches and what doesn’t, whatever ur new self doesn’t do that that u currently do or that they do and you don’t is what needs to be changed.

5. Clean out

I am someone who is very attached to my clothes and struggle to get rid of them even when they’re things I don’t ever wear. Yesterday I made the very needed extreme closet clean out and got rid of everything the person I am becoming wouldn’t own. And I have never felt more refreshed. Organize ur space and do a clean out to match the person you want to become. By getting rid of clothes that don’t match my new self, I am making it easier for me to show up as her.

6. Analyze ur relationships

Look at the people you talk to the most. How do they make you feel. Are they supportive, are they constantly trying to better themselves, are they happy for ur successes? Or are these people keeping you from growing? Making u feel small? It is important to let of the people who are holding u back from being ur best self, who ur new self wouldn’t want in their life in order to become this new version of u. You want people who’s energy matches ur new self’s energy in ur life, not ur past self (current self) who you don’t want to be anymore.

7. Think like ur new self and show up as them

Now that you’ve gotten all that down, it’s time to show up as ur new self. Go through ur day to day life in the mindset of ur new self. Keep doing this and there will come a time where u won’t have to think about it anymore, because u already are the new version of urself.

Wish you the best of luck

Xo, Ary 💋

[twisted-lilies]

Hideaway

hi friends! here’s my first fic on this blog, i hope i do it justice! and thanks sm to the anon who sent in this request, i hope you enjoy! <3 now here’s 1.8k of sick sneezy alastor

~

It’s not exactly out of the ordinary for no one to have eyes on Alastor for quite some time, however it seems that he’s been missing from the hotel for nearly the entire day now.

“I’m just saying, it’s odd,” Charlie explains to a very uninterested Vaggie. It seems not everyone harbors the same worry in their heart for one of Hell’s Overlords. “We’d usually see him around, like, once or twice! Now it’s just radio silence. Literally.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon enough,” Vaggie says with a lot less concern about the situation than her girlfriend. “It’s not exactly odd for that creepy fucker to go lurking around. I give him a day until he’s back.”

If only that were actually the case and Alastor were truly gallivanting around all of Hell without a care in the world. Instead, it seems he’s found himself in a rather unamusing predicament.

“Ḧ̸̳́̽͛̂̒̾̃̍͗̄̋͘’̷͍̹͇͉̓̀D̶̟̺͑̌̆̇̀̓̊̾̉̃̑̍͛̚͠Z̸͈̖̪̝̪̪͉̜͗́͆͌̒̋́̓̂͛͝͠Z̷̡̗̘̼̜̞̲͈̣͖̦͖͘Z̸̢̧̼͓̤̝̺̤̗̼̀̆ͅH̷̢̪̥͙̟̭̺̭̖͍̯̪̉!̶̢͖̳̙̦̙̗̩͍̟͌̃̌̉͒͑͗͜͜”̴̡̫͈̹̳̺̩͍̟̾̽̍͜͝͠

The sound of feedback in his ears makes Alastor wince, but luckily no one seems to be around to have seen that moment of weakness. Not that any lesser soul unfortunate enough to cross his path and witness the sorry state he’s in can’t simply be extinguished with minimal effort, he would still prefer to get to Rosie’s as soon as possible.

And hopefully his nose will stop buzzing when he’s there.

The residents of Cannibal Town know better than to greet Alastor with anything other than the utmost respect, but they aren’t ones to unnecessarily fall at the feet of a more powerful being. For that, Alastor is actually grateful for.

Getting to Rosie’s Emporium is easier said than done, but no one other than himself needs to know that. Not even Rosie. Unfortunately, even an Overlord of Hell isn’t immune to catching a terrible cold, but it’s making his muscles ache and he feels distinctly weak.

Weak

If there’s one person he knows for sure won’t take advantage of his misery, it’s Rosie. Their relationship has always been a special one, helping each other out whenever need be with very few strings attached for such powerful beings. Compared to other favors he’s had to ask, this one is particularly benign.

The first challenge that presents itself are the other patrons of Rosie’s Emporium who currently have no idea they are on one of the Overlords of Hell’s hit list right now. “Oh my goodness, Alastor! It’s lovely to see you here dearie!”

A warm welcome. One that would be much appreciated if Alastor didn’t need the patrons out yesterday. “Yes, yes, I thought I’d pay a visit to my good friend. There’s something I’d like to talk about if you’d lend me an ear—not literally this time, I’m afraid!”

Rosie laughs at the joke, but Alastor can already tell she’s picked up on his unusual behavior if his disheveled (by his standards) appearance wasn’t already enough to go by. “Alastor, dear, I always have time for you. Let me just finish up with a few customers and we can get right away, how’s about that?”

Alastor can already feel the buzzing sensation in his nose getting more intense by the minute. If he doesn’t get away soon, he’s going to—

“Well, then I hope you don’t mind if I take a bit of a look around the store while I wait. I must say, it’s been quite some time since I’ve last paid you a visit! Toodle loo!”

It’s rushed and worse than the usual quick-witted response Alastor could give on the spot, but the last thing he’s going to do is show any kind of weakness in front of a bunch of patrons. If word got out about the Radio Demon being brought down by a silly cold, he’ll never be able to live that down. He can always get rid of one or two unsuspecting passersby in the exact right place and time to witness Alastor’s downfall, but even he can hardly control the spread of gossip amongst an entire town. That’s more in line with the Vees’ skill set.

Quickly, he finds an unoccupied bathroom and ensures that no one is within earshot.

“H̶̬̮̻͔̯̥̤̪́̑͋͋͜Ḩ̸̧̡͈̖̹͇̜̤͍̗͇̻͂̓͛̃͆͝͠’̸̣̺̯̲͍̞͕̳̣̯̿̅̅͛̒N̶͉̺͖̯̟͇͉͎̣̈́̄̋̊̒̄͐͆G̶̛̭͇̪͍̬̳̼̦̎̈́͜K̸̛̛̪̞̉̇͆̿͝͝T̵̲̤͔̈́͂! H̷̭̳̤̗̻͙̀͆̉̓͋͋͑̕͠Ȟ̵̰̥̲̳̱́̍͜͜’̷͇͕͙̰͓̪̭̞͎̋̀͜D̸̢̡̛͇̜̪̱͖̥̝̯̱̃̀́̉̄͜͝Ź̶͇͎̠̟̹̫͈͌̿͒̓͋̈́̃̆̃̿͑̚͠Z̵̧͉͓̔͐́̀͐̈́̋͛Z̶̲̬̠̠͎̩͒̆̎̄̃̿̄̒͆̇̉̓̎͠Ḩ̴̢̢̛͈̔̋͗̈̊̎̀̎̀̎͌̂͝͝! H̶̡̨̠̮͉̱͕̜̼̱̬̫̲̽̀̂̀͆͐͜H̵̨̛̗̘̹͚̰̝̬̱͐̾͌̓͑̔͊̆͊͌͐̕͝͝’̶̨͕̗͙̝͕̯̬̯̮̹͛̎͘T̴̡͖̳̱̟̫̫̰̀̂͂̃̀͋͂̕͠ͅS̴͓̘̪̫̼͉̻͈̰̟̈̀̊̍̿̀̓̋͋͛̀͌͝Ḫ̷̙̩̦̤̞͇̟̘̐̐̇͒̀́̈́̑̔̀̏̂͝͠͝H̶̤̺̣̾̃́̆͑̿̃ͅ!”

The buzzing is incessant and the faint sound of radio static begins to fill the bathroom, a true testament to his lack of control. It shouldn’t be this way, he should be better-composed. He’s supposed to be indestructible, infallible, and completely immune to any kind of illness as silly as a cold.

Unfortunately, however, Hell just doesn’t work like that.

“Ugh…”

His head pounds and he’s begging to feel dizzy. Thankfully, there are worse places to pass out than in the bathroom of a trusted friend’s place, but he has a feeling his pride won’t allow him to do even that. There’s no way he’s going to show weakness, even to himself if he can help it.

Blowing his nose alleviates some of the pressure in his head as well as the sound of radio static in the room, but it doesn’t get rid of the incessant buzzing in his nose. He has a feeling that’s probably going to stick around for a while, as annoying as it is.

That’s when he hears the bathroom door open despite him being completely certain that he’d locked it. “Oh, Alastor, dear, you could’ve just told me you weren’t feelin’ well.”

At least it’s just Rosie. Some of the tenseness in his shoulders relaxes at that. He puts a smile back on his face and turns to face her with the little amount of dignity he still has left. “It seems that even Overlords can be brought down by a simple cold, I’m afraid,” he admits in a joking manner, not willing to admit how terrible he truly feels. “Do be careful, I would hate for you to catch something because of me.”

“Nah, that’s not somethin’ you have to worry your pretty little head about, darling,” Rosie says instead, not willing to accept Alastor playing this off. “Just trust me. I can shut down the shop for the day and make you some nice tea to help with that throat’a yours.”

That’s…nice. As much as Alastor would hate to admit weakness, there’s something about being offered a warm cup of bitter tea when he feels like collapsing on his feet right now. “How could I ever turn down an offer as generous as that? I think I’ll join you for some tea and conversation.”

The “conversation” part is ballsy, even for him, considering he isn’t sure how much longer he can go without sneezing. The buzzing in his nose is continuing to bug him even after he blew his nose. But being cared about tea sounds too nice to turn down.

The shop looks much different without the hustle and bustle of busy Cannibal Town residents. For Hell, Rosie has always managed to keep the place is relatively high spirits, a true feat for anyone unlucky enough to be down here.

“H̵̩̄̾̚͘̚H̴̨̞̥̾͊́’̷̱͓̰́̓͋̀̂D̸͎̱͌͑́͠T̴̜̚C̸̢̛̲̮͙̪̈́̋͗͜Ḩ̴̯̼̭̯͚̐͝!”

Great, now the static is back. And Rosie heard him.

His mask is slipping.

“Goodness, I apologize,” he says, trying to act as unbothered as possible. He can’t tell if Rosie is buying it or not since her back is turned to him, making tea. He grabs his handkerchief and rubs at his nose, hoping that will alleviate some of the annoying buzzing.

“You don’t need to act all tough around me,” Rosie chastises. “Haven’t we known each other for long enough by now? No one else is here right now. You can let your guard down, I’ve got you.”

As reassuring as that is (Rosie’s care is a good one to be in), Alastor isn’t sure he can let himself relax like that. He’s never done it before and he isn’t sure he can do it now, even with aches and soreness all over.

“You do have a way of seeing through everyone, don’t you?” Alastor says, finally letting his guard down. His voice is less animated and his ears begin to droop slightly. Anyone else would take this as an immediate sign to attack the Radio Demon, but not Rosie. Rosie is a friend. Rosie is safe.

“Here you go,” she says, sliding over a hot cup of black tea with no sugar. “That should help with your throat if it isn’t already hurting. But I have a feeling it is and you’re just not tellin’ me.”

“Oh Rosie, do tell me how it feels to be right all the time, hm?” Alastor jests. He didn’t realize how much his throat was actually hurting until he takes the first sip of tea. He tries to stifle the cough that ensues behind a fist, but an unsettling staticky sound emerges anyway.

“It feels lovely, darlin’,” Rosie quips. “But it sounds like your throat doesn’t. I really feel for you—getting sick while also bein’ in Hell? What kinda shitty luck is that?” She bursts into boisterous laughter, which Alastor doesn’t exactly appreciate but lets slide.

“I’ve had worse days, but this one is the shittyhh—

Ḩ̷̰͍̹̖̮̟͂̍͑̒̄Ḥ̸̨̯̥͕̣͙̯̠̳̘͇̀̋̄̂͒́̑͘͜͝’̸̡̡̮͔̪̰̼̖͉̝͈̝̃͗̅͋͗̓͛͌͝E̸̤̦̱͓̭͉͇̠͚͂̽̏̎͌͑̀̋̀͂̕̚͝͠͝D̷̢͎̭͙̹̙̖̭̣̣̮͖̰͖̆̚Ż̶̧̨͖̭͕͉͇̩͉̰͙͍͍̰̥̂́̉͌Z̵̳̲̝̱̦̻͙̰͕̭̪̯͗̈̋̑̍̅̓̌̆̀̔̇͜S̴̨̢̢̛̲̦͔̠͔̻̯̼̥͆ͅH̵͎͋̽̀̅̄̕Û̸̢̩̝͕̾̈́̓͂̽̀̓̉̚! Ugh, ‘scuse mbe. Well, I suppose

there’s certainly no way I can broadcast in this condition, now is there?” Might as well rest here and recuperate before heading back to the hotel, he thinks to himself, especially if Rosie is being so amenable. Wouldn’t want to face her wrath if I tried to walk out of here like this, either.

He can feel his ears drooping at this point, but he doesn’t have the energy or the necessity to keep them pointed upright. Hopefully no sneaky lesser demons are lurking around looking for pictures but Alastor is still confident in his abilities to detect any foul presences, even battling one of the worst colds of his life.

“How’s that hotel business going these days? The princess and her friends still up to their little shenanigans?” Rosie asks, trying to make conversation. Alastor thinks he still has enough energy left for that.

“Always,” he responds, the plastered smile on his face suddenly feeling slightly more genuine. “But it can be such a headache. There’s no way I could possibly be there now, imagine the migraine I would get in my state.” It’s certainly not because the thought of being doted on makes his cold, shriveled heart do funny things inside his chest.

“Just don’t stay here too long,” Rosie suggests. “Of course you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, dear, but I’m sure the residents would miss you dearly if you were gone more than a few days. It’s just a matter of time before one of them comes looking for you, you know.”

That, he knows too well. He can practically hear Charlie worrying all the way from the hotel lounge. But there’s no way he can show vulnerability around any of them.

Not yet.

“I’ll make sure to recover quickly, then,” Alastor says, sipping on his tea cup. “Give them nothing to worry about. I’ll be back in no tihh… no time—

“Ḩ̴̤͓̫̖͇̤͊̂́͜H̵̢̢̤̺̩̟̖͍̩̹̗̠̑̈́̈́̀͌͑̾̊͝ͅ’̸͇̈̑͒Ë̶̮̝̗͕͖̳͇̗͕̼̬͖́̐͑̈͋̒̀̄̉̈́̒̾̚͘T̵̛̗͚̰̱̭̘͉̯̝̈́̀̂̏̍̽͋͘͝S̴̡̙̺͎̬̱̘̈̅̏́̇ͅS̴̭̥̑̉̂͛̂̾̏̂̾͗Ḣ̵̢̢̞͕̹̰̯̟̰̯̠̖͕͔̀U̸̮͌͆́̏̂̎̏͝͠! Ȟ̴̱’̵̧̛̘́̏͑̌̔̅̑̀͒͂̽͗̃̄H̴̛͙̮͈̠̻̝̱͖̺̺̺͉̩͙̲̆̒́͆̃̂̕͜Ả̷͉̫̘͋̃̋̽̂͂̆̽̏̍̐̾͌̕͜͝Z̵̧̡̠̻̥̲̙͇̙̠͋͌͛̈́͐͋͊͆̔͆͗͒̍͝Z̶̢͚͓͒̆̈́͊̈̑͠ͅZ̶͉̠̗͇̥̰͎̰̱͙͉̱̜̳̣̉̒̌́̓̓͋̚͠H̸̬͓͚̻͖̣̙̬͌̈́̈́͒͌̒̍̒̌̕͠Ủ̶̧̜̱̺̘̖͖̣̣̙͇̩̣͉̄ͅ! Ḥ̴̨̼̣̩̰͓̗̞̜̘͖̱̊̍͜͝È̵̟͒̄͝’̵̙̱̻̥̼̥̹͈̎̈͋̔̅̋̿̓̔͘͜͜Ḍ̷̠̤͕̞̻̟̻͓̜̱̱̃̊̀̎̈́̓̍̇̏͂̚̕Z̸̡̜͈̝̖̈́͊̾̐̓̾̈̽̎̌̍͛̑̕̚̕Z̶̺̣̯̺̫͇̈́̒̇͒̇͆̄̓̅͋̒H̸̨̡̜̳̜̜̣̤̮̉̏̇̿͌̈́̈́́̅̊̒͂͆̇͝Ứ̵̡̙̮͍̣̼̹̠̞̣͕̇̂̑̄̑̔̑̋̎͛̚͝ͅ!”

That damned buzzing in his nose! If it were an enemy, he would be able to eliminate them in nanoseconds. But even the great Alastor can’t fight off a cold without rest and relaxation.

Thankfully, he can get plenty of it at Rosie’s.

[ask-the-devils-bastard]

Mm. Shame that Lucifer has never been able to visit earth. It might have done him good to see the beauty of Free Will instead of just whoever happens to drop into Pride. Some great parties up there too!

As for Alastor getting used to the hotel... maybe in the sense that a feral cat has a place it prefers over others.

I doubt he'll ever want to leave Hell, but make it a little more tolerable for those of "fairer means" and you could be on to something.

Ever thought of what you'd like to improve as Queen one day, Charlie? Down here, I mean.

[Angel's hanging out by the bar, but Charlie and Lucifer together with Vaggie are gathered in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie are splitting a plate of fruit, but there's noticeably only a few bites taken from a couple pieces. They're more occupied with the drafts for their ad. At the message, Lucifer abruptly chokes on his tea.]

Charlie: I think that'd be good for him too. But I also want him to see the good in the people who have done wrong.

Vaggie: Sir? Are you okay?

Lucifer: Y-yeah yeah yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?

Vaggie: ...

Charlie: (laughing) Alastor probably wouldn't like being compared to a cat but, honestly, I can see it. I know he actually likes it down here, but I want to save him from the exterminations just as much as every other Sinner.

Charlie: Actually, I'm starting to worry about him. He seemed fine, when he came back, but earlier... I don't know. I can't figure out what that was. He was acting like himself, but at the same time not? I don't know...

Charlie: ...Wait, what was that about 'fairer means?'

Vaggie: You're acting... kind of cagey.

Lucifer: (squeaking) Huh? No I'm not! Why would you say that?

Charlie: Ooof, uh, if I were queen? I-I mean, I haven't really thought too much about it... I mean I have thought about ways to help my people, of course, but the whole... 'being queen' thing i-i-is, well, it's not like my dad is going anywhere anytime soon, right?

[Lucifer looks on the cusp of asphyxiating as Vaggie continues to stare at him. She's not glaring, not judging, just quietly trying to gauge his expression.]

Charlie: Of course I want to put an end to the exterminations. Bring real healthcare to the Pride Ring, remove the dangerous drugs and stop the turf wars. I'd also like to have a real welcoming committee for new Sinners.

Charlie: I didn't really think about this until I was at Heaven's gate talking to Peter, but when Sinners arrive in Hell they just kind of... fall out of the sky and then they have to figure everything out for themselves. I figure if there was, like, an orientation seminar they could take, something to help them get their bearings, find some stable work and sort out their living situations, maybe it'd be easier for them to work towards redemption!