#holding his hand out as he holds his cane offering to help

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

[dccomicsimagines]

A Sight for Sore Eyes - Jason Todd x Reader

Warning - Gun Violence

Requested by Anon - Can I have Jason Todd run into his ex-wife? Maybe the heat is still between them????!!

Author's Note - I finally finished something! Also this is more like an estranged wife than ex. Hope that's okay!

***

"Stay here," you whispered to the maid who was nervously biting her nails. "I'll take the tea in."

"You sure? I hate that man." She looked around the kitchen as if the walls had ears. They did, but you doubt they were listening to you now. Not with the big meeting going on.

"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile to hide the butterflies in your stomach.

She added the last cup. "Thank you." She went to go sit in the corner with her head in her hands. Her face pale.

You understood her fear, trying not to feel it yourself. Touching the necklace around your neck, you pressed it against your collarbone. It took you a moment to gather your courage, but eventually you picked up the tray and headed out of the kitchen doors.

The Falcone residence oozed old wealth and a posh lifestyle. Almost like it wasn't funded by blood money.

You paused by the door and reached up to adjust the red rose pin on your shirt. Something Mario Falcone, the current head of the family after the blood bath that was the Holiday murders twenty years ago, added to all the Falcone servants' uniforms.

As if you needed a mark to prove you worked for Mario. You were literally in his penthouse serving tea.

You tapped the pin three times, hearing the slight beep of the recorder.

A lump formed in your throat as you prayed for any help from some higher power. You took a deep breath and quietly entered the office.

"And you want us to help you how?" Mario said from behind his desk. You walked across the plush Persian rug and set the tray on the desk. He gestured for you to stay. You backed into the far corner and folded your shaking hands behind your back.

The man in the other chair squawked. "I need men." You dared a peek. The Penguin looked older than you last saw him. He had a black eye. You wondered who punched him.

Mario leaned back in his seat, holding his fingers together. "What do you have to offer? I know Batman is breathing down your neck." He pursed his lips. "I'd rather not get that kind of attention."

The Penguin wiped sweat from his brow. You frowned slightly.

Mario motioned for you to pour the tea. You did, keeping your eyes on the floor.

"You see..." The Penguin took the cup of tea before you finished pouring. You stopped the tea just in time to barely miss his hand. He took a loud sip. You eyed him before pouring for Mario.

Mario raised an eyebrow. You added sugar to his tea and started to step back.

"If you don't give me men, I can't stop what they will do to you." The Penguin looked up with such genuine fear. Your heart stopped. From the widening of his eyes, you knew Mario's stopped as well.

"Who's they?" Mario glanced at you. He frowned. You quickly moved back to your place by the far wall.

The Penguin shook his head and dropped his cup. "I've already said too much." You stepped forward and knelt down to pick up the cup. Taking the towel you kept in your pocket out, you dabbed the tea stain.

The Falcones spilled. They were hot headed bunch after Carmine passed.

Although from what you knew of the Penguin, he never spilled. Your gut told you something was very wrong.

"Well, I can't help you." You heard Mario stand up. "Not if all you can give me is veiled threats."

"You don't understand." The Penguin stood up, almost hitting you with his cane. "This is your only chance, boy. Don't be a idiot."

You winced as you heard Mario take a sharp breath.

Glass shattered. You saw tea dripping down the far wall. "What did you call me?!"

Not again. You crawled back and stayed near the wall out of Mario's range.

Mario threw as many objects as his sister, Sophia. Neither had regard for who they might hit with those said objects. You had a cut on your arm to prove it.

"You stupid brat. As dumb as your father!" The Penguin's face flushed. "You just dug your own grave and probably mine."

Suddenly, screams echoed from inside the penthouse. The Penguin's face went white as a sheet. He flopped face first onto Mario's desk, spilling the rest of the tea tray.

You winced as everything shattered. Mario grabbed a gun from his desk drawer.

"(Y/N)." Mario tossed it to you. You caught it. It was heavy in your hands, bringing back old memories. You pushed them away as you swore you heard a gurgle on the other side of the door.

Mario took out another gun, loading it. He moved toward his fireplace. You watched as he pressed three different stones on it. A secret door next to it popped open. "Stay here and defend," Mario ordered.

"What?!" You watched him enter the secret room and shut the door. A lock whirled as it resealed. "Bastard," you mumbled.

You tapped the rose pin. "Help."

No response. You hoped it meant they were on their way. The office door rattled. You ducked into the shadows in the corner of the room.

Another scream echoed through the penthouse. The maid. You swallowed hard. You'd have to get to her.

Suddenly, the office door opened and an animal-like monster fell through. It had long claws, crawling on all fours. It sniffed at the Penguin.

You held your breath. It turned your way. It had an owl-like black mask that reveal part of it's jaw. You could see the bone. Zombie?

It let out a terrible shriek. You flinched. It saw the movement and sprang toward you.

You fired, getting it in the face. It flew back against the wall.

Not wasting a moment, you ran out of the room. Another scream came from the kitchen. You ran toward it, bursting through the door to find two more of the zombies surrounding the terrified maid.

Without hesitation, you shot both. They flew against the kitchen cabinets. You ran for the maid, grabbing her hand and going into the pantry.

She seemed to wake up from her shock to slam the door shut.

"Block it." You pointed your gun at the door. The maid ran, tossing bags of rice against the door. When she ran out, she grabbed everything off the shelves to add to the pile with no logical thought in her mind.

You let yourself feel the nausea in your stomach, the adrenaline shaking your very bones.

"What are those?" The maid whispered, freezing as more gunshots and screams echoed from somewhere else in the penthouse.

"I don't know." You swallowed hard, keeping your gun aimed at the door. "Do you have your phone?"

She nodded. "Should I call the cops?"

You shook your head. "I doubt they'd be much help." You held out your free hand. "Let me call a number I know."

The maid eyed you, but scratches on the door made her toss the phone into your hand. She got behind you, shivering.

You sighed and typed a number you knew by heart. It rang, much to your relief.

Your finger twitched on the trigger. The door began to rattle just as Oracle's voice came through the speaker.

***

Jason punched the last Talon. It spun before collapsing in a heap on the rooftop of the Gotham News building. "All clear here," Jason said, holding back a yawn.

He hadn't slept well. If anyone asked, he claimed it was the new bed, but he knew it was because you were no longer sleeping beside him.

Six months since you left. You hadn't bothered to contact him since walking out the door.

Jason stewed. "Red Hood, meet Batman and Robin at Falcone's penthouse. Talons are overrunning the place," Barbara said through his comm.

"Good riddance." Jason turned to look out over the city. The lights shined on the wet pavement. He took a deep breath of the damp air.

Barbara clicked her tongue. "Jason, (Y/N) is there."

Jason's blood ran cold. Your disappointed face flashed before his eyes. His feet were moving before his mind.

"Keep calm, Jason. I was just on the phone with her." Barbara's voice was faint. Jason grappled off the closest building, flying through the air before grappling to the next.

He didn't realize how fast he was moving until he saw Falcone's building in the distance. His legs burned, arms aching.

Jason couldn't let that disappointment be the last thing he remembered of you.

***

Nothing surprised Bruce much anymore. Years of being Batman had led him to expect the unexpected.

However, today was different.

He and Damian crashed through the skylight of Mario Falcone's penthouse to find a blood bath and several feral Talons.

What caused the Court of Owls to make a direct attack against the Falcone family? Why so many Talons? Why were they taking out everyone?

Questions he had to worry about later. Hopefully, you could shine some light on the subject. If he could find you.

Bruce threw a Talon against the far wall before dodging the blade of another. "Robin, find (Y/N)."

"TT." Damian's huff reached his ears just as the Talon next to Bruce shrieked. Bruce threw an ice grenade at the Talon. It exploded upon impact, freezing the Talon in place.

Damian ran out of the room, cutting down two Talons as he went with his katana.

More Talons crawled out of the vents. Bruce grimaced, catching a knife thrown by one of the Talons.

He let out a slow breath, calculating the best strategy before the far window shattered and a flash of red barreled in. The red took out three Talons from their momentum alone. Gunshots rang out quickly, almost making it impossible to identify them as separate shots.

Bruce's eyes widened. All the Talons fell. "Where's (Y/N)?" The flash of red turned toward Bruce. He finally could make out Red Hood, Jason.

Bruce nodded to the Talons. "That was...helpful."

Jason grunted. "Where is she?!"

"(Y/N)'s camera pinged in what looks to be the kitchen," Oracle said. "I'll lead you there."

Jason charged out of the room. Bruce followed, taking out a Talon hiding in the shadows of the hallway.

He hoped they weren't too late as they passed several fallen Falcone guards.

***

A fraction of the door broke off. A clawed hand reached through. The maid screamed. Everything in you wanted to shoot, but you held yourself back. You had two shots left, had to make them count if Bruce didn't make it in time.

Fuck Bruce for taking so long.

Please don't let Jason fall apart if you died. You doubted he was doing well since you left him, you couldn't imagine what he'd do if you died on a mission for Bruce.

"Grab something to fight with," you told the maid as she clung to the back of your shirt. "Anything."

She didn't listen, muttering prayers under her breath.

More chunks broke off the door. You let out a slow breath.

The first zombie started to crawl through, bending to squeeze through the small hole. You waited until it was halfway through before shooting it in the head.

The maid screamed. She pulled at your shirt. You had to fight to not fall back on her. The zombie went limp.

It blocked the hole, but soon it's body was pulled out and another zombie started to crawl through.

You shot that one in the head. It blocked the hole again, but the whole door started to shake. Scratches on the wood.

The other body was pulled out and just as claws enclosed on the edge of the hole, a shout came from the other room. Your heart skipped a beat. You lifted your hand to prepare to throw the gun.

You heard the slice of a katana followed closely by a remark of how disgusting this whole situation was. A smile pulled at your lips. "I think we're saved," you told the maid. She looked up at you before turning to throw up.

Gross, but you couldn't blame her. You wrinkled your nose and patted her back. "I'm sorry," she coughed. "You're so calm. Are you used to this?"

You bit your lip, wanting to say you married into it. However, all you could do is shake your head. "I'm not used to zombies. Not these kind anyway."

She looked confused, but you focused back on the door. "(Y/N)!" Jason's voice echoed from behind the door as it started to shake even more than before.

You froze. How did Jason get here? Bruce promised he'd keep him out of your mission. "Red?" You asked, raising your gun to throw just in case.

"Open the damn door. It's safe," Jason demanded. A rush of anger filled you.

The maid looked at you with wide eyes. "I thought you said you didn't call the cops."

"I didn't." You didn't look at her, keeping your eyes on the door. "How do I know it's you, Red?"

The irritated sigh that followed confirmed it for you. He did that to you a lot. One of the problems in your marriage actually.

"(Y/N), the area is secure." Damian's snotty voice made your anger cool. "You may exit now."

The maid grabbed your hand as you moved to shove things out of the way. She didn't help you, just squeezed your hand until you thought your bones broke.

You opened the door to find Red Hood flying forward to crush you against him. All the breath left your lungs.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but this time it was for other reasons. Reasons you weren't going to think about for now.

"I'm fine, Red," you whispered to him.

"You better be." Jason pulled away when the maid cleared her throat.

"Robin, guide her to safety," Bruce ordered, nodding to the maid. The maid squeaked at being addressed.

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Bruce silenced him. "Come along," Damian said, taking the maid's arm.

"(Y/N)?" The maid looked at you wide eyed.

"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile. "Don't worry. Robin will keep you safe."

She bit her lip, but let Robin drag her out of the room.

You looked around the kitchen at the zombie bodies on the floor. The counters were cracked, cupboards pulled down, glass from the dishes covered every surface. Luckily, you were wearing thick shoes.

"Report," Bruce said. You pursed your lips and looked at him. He looked no worse for wear.

Jason tensed. "Wait a minute." He shook his head. You wished you could see his face, but the helmet hid it. "Is this where you were this whole time? You were undercover for him?!" He was glaring at you. You hated when he did that with his helmet on.

"You aren't the only one who can disappear for months," you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

He flinched. "That's low."

"Oh that's low. Isn't it low to not tell your wife that you're running away to space with your ex?" You crossed your arms.

"Enough." Bruce stepped between you and Jason. "Work this out later." He turned toward you, giving Jason his back. "Report."

Jason huffed. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling at the sound. "Mario had a meeting with the Penguin." You tapped your pin. "I recorded it."

"Where are they?" Bruce studied you. You felt touched your sort of father-in-law cared enough to check you for injuries.

"In Mario's office. Penguin fainted once the attack started. The zombies left him alone for the most part." You gestured for them to follow you toward Mario's office.

Jason bullied his way in front of Bruce and next to you. "Talons, not zombies."

You hummed. "So this is the Court of Owls?" You glanced back at Bruce.

"The court has decided to come out of retirement." Bruce frowned. You stepped over a few bodies of Mario's guards. You knew them, but you didn't let yourself feel anything yet.

Jason touched your hand. You allowed yourself to take his hand for a moment before pulling away at doorway to Mario's office.

Penguin was stirring from in front of Mario's desk. Batman went over to him and dragged him up onto the chair.

You went over to Mario's secret door. It was untouched. "Mario is still here," you said.

Jason followed you. "He in a secret room or something?"

"Safe room. Left me out here to defend him." You bit your lip when Jason's head snapped to you. "Stop it."

"Were you his bodyguard?" Jason's shoulder tensed. "Or more?"

You gagged. "No, god. Don't even suggest it." You slapped his arm.

The Penguin squawked awake, blubbering as Bruce interrogated him.

"What am I supposed to think, (Y/N)? You walked out, said you needed space, but then disappeared for six months," Jason growled.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. "Now you know what I was thinking when you ran off with Starfire, huh?"

Jason flinched. It didn't feel as satisfying as you wished it did.

You knocked on the hidden door. "Mr. Falcone, it's (Y/N). It's safe to come out."

"Starfire isn't really my ex. We just slept together once," Jason grumbled. You rolled your eyes. He was making the same excuses he did six months ago. Nothing changed.

"Doesn't help your case." You punched his arm to shut him up.

Mario opened the door. He smiled when he saw you, but froze at the sight of Red Hood.

A unmanly shriek came out of Mario. He tried to close the door, but Jason grabbed the corner and ripped it open.

Mario backed into his safe room, eyes wide with terror. Jason followed him in. "(Y/N), did you call this thug? I'll have you burned alive." Mario spat, grabbing a gun and aiming it toward Jason. Jason kept walking toward him unbothered.

"I didn't call him specifically." You leaned against the doorway. The adrenaline was wearing off. Your hands trembled as everything sunk in. "By the way, I quit."

Mario shot Jason in the chest, but it bounced off his armor. You covered your ears. The gun shots echoed loudly in the small room.

Jason knocked the gun out of his hand and picked him up by the front of his shirt. He held him up until his feet were dangling off the ground.

You couldn't help feeling warm from seeing Jason was still as strong as ever.

"You don't threatened her." Jason's voice was colder than ice. "Forget her name, forget her face. She was never in your disgusting presence, do you understand?" Jason brought Mario's face close to his helmet. "Do you?"

"Yes." Mario shook like a leaf. You swore you saw the front of his pants darken.

A hand touched your shoulder. Bruce moved you out of the room. "Watch the Penguin. I want to have a word with Mr. Falcone."

You snorted, stepping out to find the Penguin unconscious on the floor. "What a rough day for you." You nudged his side with your toe as Mario screamed from his safe room. "A rough day for all of us."

You sat down in the chair and crossed your arms. Taking a shaky breath, you tried to keep your emotions locked up, but tears still filled your eyes anyway.

***

"Red Hood, wait outside," Bruce ordered. Jason dropped Mario. Mario crumbled to the floor, blubbering.

"Fine." Jason stomped out. He saw the Penguin unconsciousness on the floor. Worrying his lip, he saw the top of your head as you sat in an armchair facing away from him.

A sniffle came from you. Jason's stomach dropped.

He moved to your side and knelt beside the chair. You recoiled, quickly wiping your face with your hands.

His heart fell slightly. "You okay?"

"I'm tired." You sighed, "This was...a lot."

Jason nodded. He reached out and laid his hand on your knee. You relaxed under his touch. A little hope blossomed in his heart.

Even though he was madder than heck to know you were working for Bruce for six months. That Bruce didn't tell him and you didn't try to contact him at all. That you were with Falcone this whole time.

He still wanted you home. Still wanted you to be his wife, partner in life and beyond.

Bruce stomped out of the safe room. "We need to go. The police are on their way." You jumped up at the sound of his voice. Jason slowly stood, grabbing your hand. You let him.

"I should wait here for the cops," you said softly. Your hand trembled in his.

"Not necessary." Bruce pursed his lips. "I'll give a copy of your video recording to Gordon. It will be enough."

Jason squeezed your hand. "I'm taking her home." He stared at Bruce, daring him to say something.

You looked at him slightly surprised. "Our home?"

"Is there anywhere else, sweetheart?" Jason's voice cracked. He cursed his helmet for hiding what he hoped was the love in his face.

"No." Bruce laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason tensed.

"What do you mean no?" Jason snarled. You squeezed his hand gently.

Bruce stepped closer. "It's best if (Y/N) is kept somewhere safe since she is a witness. You remember what the court does to witnesses." Jason pulled you into his side suddenly, his arm around your waist. You gasped, but relaxed into him.

"Our place is safe." Jason bit his lip. He tried not to think about you being pinned to a wall by Talons, bleeding to death as you screamed his name. A lump formed in his throat.

"It is, but you know the cave is safer." Bruce's lips pursed. "(Y/N) needs to be cleared for any trackers as well."

"He's right." Your voice shook. Jason studied you, noting your trembling lips, widening of your eyes, a sickly pallor overtaking your cheeks.

Jason swallowed hard. "Fine, but I'll take her."

Bruce nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Take the batmobile." He pressed the remote key to the batmobile into Jason's free hand. Jason looked at it before closing his fingers around it.

Jason started to lead you from the room, but you stopped. You pulled away from him. His arm felt empty without you. "Please make sure Mia is safe. She's the maid, she doesn't know anything,"

"She will be safe." Bruce rested his hand on your shoulder. You and Bruce shared a long look. Jason's stomach tightened at the sight. When had you and Bruce became so close? "Now go."

You nodded, quickly using your sleeve to wipe your face. Jason stepped toward you at the sight. You took a deep breath. "(Y/N)," Jason whispered, reaching out to you.

You flinched. "Not now." Brushing his arm away, you walk past him and out the door.

Jason watched you go with a sigh before quickly following you.

"Good luck," Bruce said so softly that Jason almost missed it. It was only the threat of leaving you alone that stopped him from going back in and unleashing his rage onto Bruce.

***

"Thank you, Alfred." You gave him a hug, even though you were only wearing a oversized robe. It did little to protect you from chill of the batcave, but you had to toss your clothes after going through several scans and a bug sweep.

"You're welcome, Miss (Y/N). It is good to have you home." Alfred patted your back before pulling away to look you in the eye. "Now head upstairs. I have clothes waiting in Master Jason's old room." You frowned slightly, but Alfred held up a hand. "And Master Jason knows not to enter unless you give him permission."

You smiled at the thought of Jason being locked out of his old room. "Thank you again." You turned and headed upstairs.

Bruce's study still looked the same. You paused at Bruce's desk as the grandfather clock door swung closed behind you.

The gold frame caught your eye. You traced it with one finger, smiling sadly. It was you and Jason on your wedding day. You were wearing a nice dress you got from Walmart, he in jeans and a button down.

That day had been magical. The beach was warm, sand soft under your feet. Jason had a boyish grin through the whole ceremony.

You shook your head. No point staying in the past now. You left Bruce's study and made your way upstairs.

The manor was quiet. You closed your eyes to enjoy the peace, the safety.

A lump formed in your throat as you remembered the blood, the bodies of people you gotten to know over six months.

Tears burned in your eyes. "Damn it." You covered your face and hurried to Jason's old room.

The room smelled of lemon and fresh laundry. You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar ACDC poster on the wall, the red comforter on the king sized bed. An old pair of pajamas was folded neatly on the bed.

You picked up the pjs and headed into the bathroom.

Turning the water as hot as it could go, you waited to let the steam fill the room before you let yourself grieve.

***

Jason carefully balanced the tray he prepared with one hand and knocked on door with the other. Steam rose from the mug of tea and bowl of soup he had made for you.

He hoped you would accept them. That you would let him in.

A long moment of silence followed his knock. "Come in," you said weakly. He heard the roughness of your voice. His heart ached at the thought you had been crying.

Jason turned the knob and slowly opened the door. You were sitting on the bed, towel draped over your head and his old pjs on. Warmth flooded his gut at the sight.

"I brought you something to eat and drink." He walked past you and set the tray on the side table. You pulled off the towel at his voice, staring at him with a calculated gaze. Your eyes were swollen and red.

"Thanks." Your gaze dropped to his body. Jason couldn't stop himself from blushing. "Did you lose weight?"

"Haven't been eating as much." Jason turned away. He went to stand by the window, looking out at the dark gardens below.

You hummed. He heard you sip from the mug of tea. The silence that fell was thick. Jason almost couldn't breathe.

"I see you are wearing your ring," you whispered.

"And you aren't wearing yours." Jason spun to face you. You cupped the mug in your hands, staring down into it.

"I was undercover, Jason. I couldn't have a wedding ring." You reached for your neck. Jason blinked when you pulled out a simple gold chain necklace with the ring attached. "But I had it on me."

Jason's voice caught in his throat. "Why did you go undercover and not tell me?"

You sighed. "It was only supposed to be for a few weeks. Mario Falcone was doing business in Italy. I came to Bruce and asked him if I could get away, he offered the job."

Jason sank onto the bed next to you, but left a decent distance between you and him. A distance that honestly hurt. "And it turned into six months?"

"I was working as a waitress at a cafe Mario was frequenting there. There was an attempt on his life. I saved him, he hired me on the spot." You sipped your tea. "I was still angry with you, so I took him up on it."

Jason leaned forward on his knees. "So you were being petty? Disappearing because I left you? At least I left you a fucking note."

"You left me a note saying you'll be gone for months in space with Kori." You narrowed your eyes. Jason scowled back at you. "On our anniversary."

"It wasn't our anniversary." Jason stood up and paced in front of you.

"Oh, right. It was the day before." Sarcasm slipped into your tone.

Something snapped inside Jason. "Nothing happened between me and Starfire! We slept together once a long time ago!"

"That's not even the point!" You set your mug back on the tray.

"Then what's the point, (Y/N)?!" Jason threw his arms in the air.

You grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him. Jason caught it easily. "You idiot! Maybe the point was that you didn't tell me in person?! That you didn't even discuss it with me! I'm your wife and you ran off to space without even bothering to check with me!" Tears filled your eyes.

"Fine, it was a mistake not to talk to you about it!" Jason threw the pillow back onto the bed. "But you don't get to just disappear on me! What happens if you died while you were with that bastard Falcone?! You would do that to me?! Leave me to find out from Bruce that you died on his mission!"

"Like you couldn't have died in space and did the same to me! At least I was on earth!" You straightened your shoulders.

Jason towered over you. You glared back at him.

The red faded from his vision. He dropped his shoulders, taking a step away from you. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

You sighed and turned away from him. "We're just going in circles."

Jason studied your back. He closed his eyes and took a soothing slow breath.

Alfred told him once after he started dating you that relationships sometimes meant swallowing your pride. Letting go to move on.

He also said sometimes an apology can fix more than you think.

"I'm sorry." The words left Jason's lips freely. "I messed up. You were right. I should have talked to you about going to space. Even if it wasn't with Kori, I should have discussed it with you."

You peeked over your shoulder at him. "I'm sorry too. I should have gotten a message to you. Let you know where I was and that I was as safe as I could be."

"You shouldn't have left in the first place. How were we supposed to work it out if you weren't here?" Jason grumbled, smiling when you let out a little laugh.

"I guess we're both to blame." You bit your lip. A moment of silence passed between you.

Jason wanted to ask you to come home, be his wife again...but what if that wasn't what you wanted? Maybe you didn't want him anymore? He rocked on his ankles.

"What should we do now?" you asked softly, eyes on the floor.

Jason put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know."

You pursed your lips and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "I don't want to give up on us."

Jason dropped to his knees as if you stole the air out of him. "Sweetheart, I don't want that either." He shuffled until he was knelt in front of you. You took his hands. He frowned at how cold you were, trying to rub warmth into them. "I love you. Always have, always will."

You looked at him with a glimmer of a smile on your lips. "I love you too."

Jason leaned forward. You met him halfway. The kiss shattered any resentment or anger Jason had left inside him. He could only think that you were here, you loved him, you wanted him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. Jason picked you up, chuckling when you gasped in surprise. He kissed you again as he laid down on the bed with you.

***

You woke to the late afternoon sun shining through the window. Stretching, you felt Jason's callused hand on your bare hip. He squeezed gently before sliding his hand up around your waist to pull you back into him.

He was warm, a human furnace. You rolled over, opening your eyes to take him in.

Jason had dark circles under his eyes, his face thinner than it was before you left. However, he was still the same. You reached up to trace his lips with your thumb.

He mumbled in his sleep. You leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. Jason's eyes opened the moment your lips touched his. He rolled over, pulling you halfway onto his chest.

You laughed, grinning down at him. "Morning, handsome."

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Jason smirked back at you. His fingertips tickled your back slightly. "God, I missed you."

"I missed you too." You rested your chin on his chest, watching him. Jason's hand moved to the back of your neck. You blinked when you felt them touch the clasp of your necklace. "What are you doing?"

Jason undid the clasp and pulled your necklace off. Your wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight. "I want to put your ring back on your finger where it belongs."

Your heart melted. "Okay." You watched him slid the ring off the chain and take your hand. He slipped it on your finger. "I remember you missed my finger a few times during the ceremony."

"Because I was too busy looking at you." Jason sighed, holding up your hand to study your ring. "Beautiful."

Your face burned slightly. "Bruce has the photo on his desk."

Jason hummed. "How did he get a picture?"

"Must have made a copy of the one we gave Alfred." You closed your eyes, turning your head so your ear was pressed against his skin. His heartbeat soothing some of the worry in your belly.

Jason laid a hand in your hair. "Can we promise that if either one of us has to leave for a long mission, that we'll take the other with?"

You opened one eye to look at him. His jaw firm. "You're serious?"

"I am." He looked at you without wavering.

"Okay." You smiled, opening your other eye. "But I doubt I'll go undercover again. It sucked."

Jason hummed. "And space sucked. All the food was terrible and all the alien girls wanted to fuck me, but I told them I was married to the most beautiful woman in the universe who would kicked their asses if they laid a hand on me."

You snorted, kissing his chest. "Charmer." You sobered when you thought about last night. "What are we going to do about the Court of Owls?"

"Well..." Jason groaned, pulling you fully on top of him. You rolled your eyes when you felt how excited he was. "Right now, I think we should celebrate being together."

"You mean celebrate again?" You raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you straddled his hips.

"And maybe again afterward? If you're willing?" Jason smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then once we're completely done celebrating, we can see what intel they found last night."

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning back at him. "Fine." You leaned down to kiss his lips. "I love you."

"And I love you." Jason suddenly flipping you so he was on top. You laughed before you lost yourselves in each other.

[greatdenimbeast]

Diamond Castle au- introducing, Shadow, Muse of History, Astrology and Astronomy

Once a mortal in ancient Greece, moulded from clay by an inventor and brought to life by the blood of a god, he spent his years caring for his ill sister, Maria. Doing his best to assist his creator in finding a cure. Since the blood of god ran through his veins and, seeing that his existence was a miracle in of itself, it stood to reason that he could be the miracle that helped save her

Cuz he was quite literally born yesterday, his sister loved to tell him stories about historic events, tales of gods and heroes to teach him about the world and how it cane to be. She was a damn good storyteller too, always leaving Shadow craving for more.

His favourites were the ones related to the stars, the constellations, so much so that Gerald noticed and taught him how to properly chart them

Maria wasn’t allowed to leave the house, her grandfather fearing that the elements would be too much for her and that often made her sunny demeanour dull and, looking to cheer her up, he did his best to find ways to brighten her mood until found one that worked

He entertained his bed-ridden sister with tales of history, of old dead heroes, of gods, of prophecies, things that he had picked up from local traders and travellers when he was out running errands for Gerald.

Maria was enthralled by them, hanging off of his every word

“The island of Crete truly holds such a monster?”

“It’s travellers gossip, but who’s to truly say.”

He wasn’t as good of a storyteller as she was but he did keep record of every story he could, and Maria loved it so that was all that mattered

As Maria got worse, Shadow started praying and giving offerings to the god Asclepius and the god Apollo, he doubted they would come to his aid but if there was a chance they could help he wanted to be sure.

But it was getting harder to cure her, some of the medicinal herbs they needed grew far off and the merchants that brought them to the markets to sell them kept marking up the prices out of greed. So Shadow, who had been blessed with inhuman speed, was sent off to pick the herbs himself, allowing him the opportunity to venture and see more of the world and bring back more stories, even making a few of his own, slaying a few monsters on the the way

The soldiers for the nearby king didn’t make it easier, tormenting the people for laughs, outright stealing, sometimes outright killing people when they refused to cave to their demands. Gerald was always being pulled away from his work for a cure to craft machines and statues for the king, the only reason the soldiers were unable to harm him or Maria when he refused was because of Shadow being there to protect them.

This became an issue when the king decided that he wanted Shadow

Soldiers stormed the house and workshop, taking the inventor prisoner, dragging him away to the castle and as Shadow tries to get Maria to safety she pushes him out of the way of blade and gets stabbed through her stomach

Shadow blacks out.

When he comes back, his hands are covered in blood, the bodies of dead soldiers litter the floor, his ears are ringing.

The only other breathing Shadow could hear besides his own was the shaky, laboured breaths of his older sister

He rushed to her side and examined her, the wound was deep, too deep. He tried his beat to clean up the blood but he could barely see what he was doing past his own tears. As he did he prayed, to his other father, to Apollo, to any god that would listen, to please save his sister, to not let her die

Then Maria’s hand squeezing his stopped him

“Sh…Shadow… o-one more story…”

“Maria please, please, i have to treat this, I won’t let you die, i won’t let you, i can’t let you die!”

“One…one m-more… please?”

“…okay… okay, one more story.”

So he shakily told her a story, about the fabled diamond castle, the birthplace of music, home to the museum of music. He struggled to remember parts of the story but Maria shakily helped him fill in the blanks

Then as the story concluded, Apollo made his presence known and applauded the two on how exemplary their storytelling was. It turns out Shadow has gained Apollo’s attention for a while, ever since he started praying to him and he had an offer for him

He wanted him to be his muse, an inspiration, a god. Initially Shadow wanted to refuse until Maria winced and coughed in his arms, then he got an idea

“…Lord Apollo I will accept this honour on one condition, that you heal my sister of her wounds and her ailment so that she may live as freely as she wishes.”

Apollo accepted these terms and gave Shadow, ambrosia (the food of the gods). It burned away his mortality and left him a god

And Apollo fulfilled his part of the deal, healing his sister, and did Shadow one better by turning Maria immortal so that she may be Shadow’s attendant to assist him in his duties before whisking them both off to the diamond castle

50 years later Shadow meets the next muse

[makethatelevenrings]

"back off" with Jaason?

TW: patronizing man

Scary dog privileges. That’s what Artemis called it once when she saw him in action.

Even if you were simply stopping by the corner store for some more bananas and yogurt, he was there. Anytime the sun set on Gotham and the criminals began to crawl out of the shadows, you couldn’t go anywhere without your guard dog.

At first it rubbed you the wrong way. Did he not trust you?

But then you learned quickly that it wasn’t you he didn’t trust. It was the leering monsters of Gotham who preyed on young women like you. You found solace in his presence, even if he insisted on following you the ten feet it took you from your work to your front door.

But this was the first time that Jason Todd had to go into scary dog mode during the day.

He had left the table the two of you were occupying so he could go help a woman outside who appeared to be struggling to juggle her grocery bags and her cane. You loved your kindhearted man and savored the sight of the way the corner of his eyes crinkled with his laughter. He took her bags in one of his big, strong hands and offered her his arm which she gladly took. Jason glanced at you through the window and jerked his head towards the left before holding up four fingers. 

He wouldn’t be gone long so you could hold down the fort for a bit.

The humid Gotham air caused condensation to gather on the surface of your travel mug and you absentmindedly drew your finger through the droplets as you thumbed through some paperwork that Bruce asked you to take a look at. For Wayne Enterprises, that is. Not the night job.

The Bowery wasn’t just Jason’s territory. You pulled the marionette strings for the daytime practices. As he cleaned up the mob, you focused on filling in the power vacuums left behind by various murders and arrests. Job training programs, continuing education, supporting schools, that was your thing. So when Bruce approached Jason about building a new library in the Bowery, your boyfriend directed his father to you.

You were so engrossed in the details of the building plan that you didn’t look up when the chair across from you pulled away. You assumed it was Jason, of course.

“Did you know your dad wants the entire first floor to be for children and teens while also supplying a social worker program on the second floor for the unhoused?” you mused. When your question went unanswered, you raised your head to find a man who was decidedly not your boyfriend leering at you.

“Can I help you?” you sighed.

“Hi. I’m Mark. I was working over in the corner and noticed that you were really focused. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

“No, but you can fuck off,” you said as politely as your sharp words would allow. “If you saw me sitting here, then you saw my boyfriend seated here too.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I was just looking to make polite conversation but you’re over here jumping to conclusions. Can’t a guy just come say hello?”

You clasped your hands in front of you on the table and leaned forward. “Alright, Mark. What were your intentions when you came over here? Especially since you waited until my boyfriend was gone. That doesn’t seem to be polite conversation but predatory behavior.”

You flashed him a fake smile and batted your lashes. His lips screwed up tightly and he scoffed. “All of you females are the same. I mean, you really thought that I would want to hit on you? How arrogant can you be? Here’s a tip: learn to respect men an-”

He was cut off by a hand curling around the collar of his shirt. Jason yanked Mark up and out of the chair and pulled him in close, his lips peeling back in a sneer.

“Here’s a tip: you see any girl, but especially my girl, and you learn to back off before I break your arm off and shove it down your fucking throat,” Jason growled. You blinked up at the two men and then grinned, leaning your head on your hand and watching as your guard dog went into attack mode.

“Hey man, I was just trying to be friendly,” Mark gasped out. There was no way he could take on the over six foot tall tank that was Jason Todd. Your boyfriend’s jaw clenched and a vein throbbed under his skin, which you really shouldn’t find so hot. 

“Yeah? I wasn’t. You should be glad I’m feeling charitable today. Now, you’re gonna pack your shit up and get out of my fucking sight.”

He let go of the weasel and stepped back so his thigh brushed against your shoulder. Jason crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating his already massive form with the bulge of his biceps. Mark raised his hands as he scooched around the mountainous man and darted back to his table.

“Sorry, Mallory,” Jason called to the owner of your favorite cafe. She merely waved him off and shot you a wink. You leaned your head against Jason and raised your hand to settle on his waist but he didn’t relax until Mark was out of the store, the bell ringing behind him as the door slammed shut on his ass.

“He didn’t touch you, right?” Jason asked. His voice still held that sharp edge to it but it softened when he turned to face you. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you smiled at his touch.

“No, baby. I wouldn’t let him touch me even if he tried.”

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he rounded the table and settled back in his seat. One of his hands remained clasped over yours as he gazed at you from across the table.

“Guess what your dad wants to do on the first floor?” you asked as you waved the building plans in front of his face.

“Tell me,” he hummed. Jason Todd might be your guard dog, but you never saw his fangs directed at you. Despite his size and stature, he was just a little puppy when it came to you.

[washeduphazbin]

Could I get a one shot of, y/n is like Adam’s life ex gf she left after getting tired of his shit.. ended up falling in love with Lucifer.. (Mr. Steal yo girl thrice) and during the Adam and Lucifer battle Lucifer taunts that he stole all three of his lovers

YES. YES. I'm in love with Lucifer. Your wish is my command.

Sorry it's so short if we like maybe part 2

Also, poly luci x reader x Lilith (sorry, not sorry)

———

“Little duck?” Lucifer asked softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You were holding onto one of his plush ducks rather tightly,

"I can't help but think...that this extermination is my fault." Lucifer let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, "Lulu-"

"I won't have that negative self-talk in my house." Your brow furrowed in distress,

"But-"

"No buts."

"Lucifer! Adam's absolutely moved up the extermination to spite Charlie and us!" You argued, "I...what if I go back to him."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I don't want to!" You moved away from him to the portrait of Lilith, you and Lucifer hanging in the corner of the room. "I really don't want to..." You raised your hand and brushed against Lilith's horns and Lucifer's staff in the portrait. "You know I don't belong here; I'm not a demon, a sinner, or an angel either. I'm just a human who fell because I fell in love with you and your family." You smiled sadly over at him, holding out your hand. Lucifer squeezed it tightly, "What if I can solve all of this by just going back with Adam."

"That's not happening; I'm not letting you go back to that fuckwad;" He scoffed, brushing a hand through your hair, "Do you think you'll be happier with him? Without us? Without Charlie?"

"No." You laughed bitterly, "Of course not, Charlie would kill me."

"She absolutely would. You're like another mother to her; she wouldn't let you go back to that hellscape without a fight. Neither will I; I have a few words I'd love to share with Adam."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"I'm sure you'll get to hear it eventually," he mused, leaning closer to kiss your cheeks. "Just stay safe and stay away from the Hotel until Charlie or I give you the okay, okay?"

"Okay." You whispered softly, bending down to plant a kiss on his lips,

"Did you really have to bend down like that," He huffed, hitting you gently with his cane.

"Oh, absolutely."

---

"Stay home? STAY HOME?" You roared, grabbing Lucifer's shoulders, "Everyone dying, and you want me to stay home!"

"For your safety and everyone's safety. Yes." He squeezed your shoulders tightly, "If it's between you and Charlie, I-"

"You choose Charlie every time."

"I love you-"

"I know. I love you too." You smiled softly, "Kick Adam in the dick for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady. Here," Lucifer handed you his phone, "It'll live stream the battle; I hacked a VoxTech drone." He puffed his chest out proudly, and you beamed, taking his phone from his hands.

"I can't wait to see Adam get dick punched in HD!"

"There's the bloodlust I love so much; if I didn't have to go save Hell, I'd totally fuck you right now."

"Then you better leave now so you can come back and fuck me as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave the dorkiest salute before teleporting out of the room.

---

"I am going to FUCK you!"

"It's fuck you up...dad."

Your face palmed, curling up on the bed, Lucifer's phone in your hand, watching the live stream.

"What? What did I say? Oh Shit-" Lucifer burst into laughter as he transformed into a snake to avoid being hit by Adam, "So this is what you've been up to since Eden, huh? I gotta you really let yourself go, buddy."

"Are you judging me?" Adam snarled in a disbelieving laugh, "You're the most hated being in all of creation!" Lucifer snickered as he turned into a bird,

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer, or the second bow chica. Wow, wow!" He splayed his fingers out in a V shape and stuck his tongue in between his fingers, "Not to mention your third."

"I'm sorry what!" He snarled,

"Oh, you didn't know? (Y/n)'s a doll, the tightest pussy Lilith and I've EVER shared!"

You made a horrified sound at the phone, wanted to absolutely curl up into a ball and die, Charlie didn't look any better.

"Dad!"

"You are so dead!" Adam shouted, "And I'm gonna find that bitch, and I'm going to make her pay!"

"Sure you are," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

[luciferlightbringer]

Love In a Hopeless Place

Chapter 2

Here we are with chapter 2! Lucifer and reader meet, enjoy! xoxo, Dany :)

Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Updated through Chapter 12 Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader

Word Count:5.2k (I'm so sorry, lol) CW: Trauma, panic, flashbacks, Smut(ish/mostly lead up), angst, comfort, sub/dom dynamics, prostitution, anxiety, depression

Lucifer was in his study working on another one of his many rubber duck creations when his phone started to buzz on the desk with a text message. He jumped a little with a small 'Ah!' at the vibration, and the duck flew out of his hands and into one of the many piles of ducks that filled the room.

"Shit, welp... not finding that one anytime soon", he said running his fingers through his hair while looking out at the sea of ducks, before turning his attention to his phone.

The preview of the text from his driver on the front screen read, "On our way back with our guest." Lucifer stared at the text, and his stomach immediately tightened with... excitement? Anxiety? Was he going to throw up- no he was fine... Right? Yes. No? Fuck. Why did this feel so scary?

Lucifer did not know what he we feeling, he just knew he only had a few minutes before his guest for the evening would arrive... and he had no idea what he was doing. Lucifer started pacing and pulling a little at his own hair, starting to stress and talk to himself.

"Should I have been preparing something? Maybe I should clean! No... wait I have people for that... M-maybe I should pick up some of the ducks? Why would I need to pick up the ducks? Maybe she would want to see the ducks? Lucifer, why would a prostitute want to see your stupid rubber ducks?!" Lucifer said as he paced back and forth on want little open floor space their was in the room, before he stopped, took a breath, and smoothed back his hair and tried to breathe.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm cool. I'm fine." he said as he rolled his shoulders and straightened his bowtie as he walks out of his study and back down the hall to his room. "I'm the King of Hell, and I'm the customer. Who cares? I'm sure girls all over Hell would be dying for the chance to take care of and service me. She is the lucky one here that I even get to grace her presence!" He stopped in front of the mirror in his room, popping on his hat and grabbing his cane before posing in the mirror and flashing a toothy grin at himself.

Lucifer looks over his own reflection in the mirror, and the longer he stared, the more his smile faded and his shoulders slumped. He wrapped his arms around himself in a half self-hug, "So then... why do I feel like... such a loser?"

______________________________________________________________

The car soon pulls up to a big beautiful manor and parks, the driver gets out and comes to open your door, offering you a hand to help you out.

"Thank you," you say with a sweet and flirty smile as you grab the man's hand and step out of the car. You try hard to hold your confident expression and stifle your surprise as you get out and see your new surroundings, looking around admiring the beauty. Your normal cantor you use with most clients suddenly feels like it might be inappropriate here, so you hold your tongue.

Internally, though, your thought process runs wild, 'Whoa, wait, what the fuck? I've worked for some high rollers before, but this... this feels like its on an entirely different level.... Who the fuck is this guy?'

The driver breaks your slight panic as he gestures for you to follow him. You are escorted up the front steps and into the front entry way past the giant ornate front doors. In the front room off to one side were a few red chairs and a couch with gold trim, all centered around a white marble coffee table. The driver gestures towards the seating, "Please, have a seat while I inform your host that you have arrived."

You curtsy in respond because you were starting to feel like that was the right response for this type of place, and watch as the man turned and started to walk down the hallway. You go to sit on one end of the red couch, damn it was a nice couch, and you start to look at the room around you. You're inner voice continuing with the general track of 'What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? How is this place even bigger and nicer on the inside?!' playing in your head.

Who could this be? This guy is crazy well off, seems to like red, white, and gold, it was everywhere in the decorations. Also he... had good taste in decorations. It looked way nicer here than anywhere else you had ever seen in hell. Not just because of the amount of money in the place, but also because of how the design felt. It almost felt like a slightly edgier version of what you would expect buildings to look like in heaven. Lots of little details and motifs in the crowning on the walls and art around the manor. Lots of stuff like apples, snakes, little things that looked like angel wings-

Your thought process freezes as the puzzles start to fall together into an answer.

Wait.

Apples?

Snakes?!

ANGEL WINGS?!

You start to shake a little and fidget with your dress a little. You may have not been in hell long, but there were some things you pick up on quickly, even in new places. 'There is noooo way. That's impossible. Right? Where were other people who are known for that symbology... right... Who else in hell...? Maybe it's someone you just don't know? Uhhhh.... Oh! Wasn't he married? Well... that doesn't mean anything half of the time, you've fucked married guys. More importantly, if this is who I think it is... what would the LITERAL KING OF HELL, need a call girl for? No, there is no way it could be him, that would be stupid...'

Then, you hear a cane start to tap down the hallway, and time feels like it slows down. You turn to look in the direction of the sound, and down the long manor hallway, you can make out the unmistakable features of Lucifer, the fallen angel, the King of Hell himself, followed by his driver. You feel your skin grow hot and your heart rate pick up as you swallow hard, watching him approach.

He was... much softer looking than you expected. Many of the angelic features were still present, pale near-white skin, golden blonde hair, soft facial features, and they mixed in well with his more demonic features, red and gold eyes, sharp grin, and dark ashy claws that held his signature apple cane. You'd seen his face on magazines and maybe once on tv, but now upon seeing him in the flesh, you realize that pure imagines didn't seen do him any justice.

You realize you have less than a few seconds to calm yourself and get ready to make a first impression. You take a deep breath, let it out, straighten yourself in your seat and think, 'He's just another client, that's all I need to focus on. My goal is to fulfill his wishes'.

As he gets a few feet closer you stand, and curtsy with a confident smile on your face. "Your majesty, what an unexpected surprise this is. Oh, I apologize, I mean... Lance."

Lucifer responds with a hearty chuckle before putting up a hand, "No need for formalities or code names here. Just Lucifer is fine. You must be (y/n)?" he says as he starts to examine the woman in front of him up and down.

You straighten up from your curtsy and place a hand on a slightly popped hip as you look at Lucifer, "I am, and I am honored to be serving you tonight."

The driver comes up and asks for your coat. You slip it off as elegantly as you can, fully aware that your show for Lucifer had already begun, and handed it to the driver. He tells you where he will be when you and the master have concluded your visit for the evening, puts up your coat in a nearby closet, and walks into another room close to the main door, and closes the door behind him.

Lucifer watched the sultry way you slipped off your jacket, and the alluring dress that was revealed from beneath it. Simple, black, sleeveless, a v shaped neck line that showed the perfect amount of cleavage, hugged your body in all the right places, and also allowed for a long slit that showed off plenty of the soft skin of your leg. The woman before him was beautiful, but in a way he didn't expect. Not in a "porn star, big boobs, stereotypical bimbo" kind of way, but in a soft... normal kind of way. It made him feel a little calmer in a way. A couple new emotions started to join the mixture that swirled in his stomach, curiosity, amusement... lust... Nothing had even happened yet, and Lucifer could already start to feel heat start to rise around his collar.

You and Lucifer where now completely alone in the main area of the manor.

You turn back to see Lucifer eyeing you. You smile.

"You like what you see, Lucifer?" you purr as you take a few steps towards him.

Lucifer shifts a little as he stands as his cheeks tint pink, feeling almost guilty for being caught staring, before remembering he was allowed to, "Oh uh... y-yes. Yes, I do." He says, returning to his curated confident grin.

You giggle, stepping closer and offering your right hand to him, which he takes with his right hand, "I am yours for the night to use as you see fit" you say with a sly flirty smile.

'Fuck, I hope this is coming off ok', you think to yourself.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' Lucifer thinks, trying to will his cheeks into not turning a darker shade of pink, 'Oh she is VERY good, and I am very out of practice.'

Lucifer returns the sly smile, "Oh I intend to." he says looking you up and down again as he kisses your hand.

'Fuck, he is good', you think at the same time.

Lucifer continues to hold your hand as he turns in closer to your right side, looping your hand under his left arm so that you and now holding it, and he looks at you with a "Shall we then?" before he starts to escort you further into the manor.

As you start to walk through the manor with Lucifer, this is when you really notice how he was a bit shorter than you expected, especially with the heels you were wearing. Nothing wrong with that, just not something you expected. He was a cutie, and you were excited that you were going to be able to help make him feel good that night. Honored even.

Lucifer felt transfixed by every inch of sensory that came from being in contact with you, the way your hand held onto the sleeve of his jacket, the way you would shift against him as you walked, the smell of your perfume, it was borderline intoxicating. His brain was running a million miles a minute between your touch, smell, what he would say next, what would happen when you both got to his room, how he wanted to keep himself from turning into the room and immediately pouncing on you. He felt like he might lose his mind.

All you could see of Lucifer was a sly grin and a confident walk towards his room.

The two of you entered Lucifer's large bedroom and you let go of his arm so that he could go to close the door behind you. He put down his cane, and started to undo the clasps of his suit jacket. You walked up behind Lucifer as he finished the clasps, slid your hands over his shoulders, hooking your fingers under the collar.

"May I?" you cooed softly in his ear.

He gulped and nodded as you glided it off his shoulders and down his arms, trying as best you can you make sure your fingers made contact with his arms as much as possible.

Lucifer had to fight a soft moan from escaping his throat at your touch. You deviously smiled to yourself behind Lucifer at the sound of his stifled moan as you took the jacket and carefully hung the jacket off the side of his mirror. You turned back around to see Lucifer taking off his hat and setting it down on a nearby surface, trying hard tame the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, a visible bulge starting to form in his pants.

Seeing the King of Hell's eyes hunger for you gave you a devious idea to try. 'I wonder what role he likes to play?' you think to yourself.

You chuckle, and start to walk a circle around Lucifer, eyeing him back as if he was your prey, which makes Lucifer swallow hard again and make him lose a little of his edge, less of a dominant energy and leaning more submissive as he watched you circle him.

'Interesting', you think.

"Tell me. Do you prefer to lead, or follow?" you ask with a coy smile.

Lucifer thought for a moment, what did he usually do with Lili- errr... in the past? He liked not having to think. Not having to lead would be really fucking nice actually.

"Follow", Lucifer said in a soft tone. This didn't surprise you, most powerful men wanted a break from it in the bedroom, from your experience. Getting to order Lucifer around was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it got you excited just thinking about it.

You gave Lucifer a wicked smile before slinking up to him, softly grabbing his chin, getting your face very close to his before whispering, "Boots off. On the bed. Now."

Lucifer's heart beat started to pound in his ears as he took a moment as he processed the words, a shiver of pleasure jolting through his body, before quickly moving to throw off his boots and crawl onto his bed. He knew nothing in the moment beyond following your command. Lucifer got into place and then looked over at you, waiting for your next order for him.

'Fuck that was hot' he thought as he felt the heat spread across his chest.

You look towards Lucifer, turning you body to face him in his new position on the bed. You smirk and start to slowly slink towards him, making sure to roll your hips with every step to emphasize your curves, staring at him with your own hunger eyes.

Lucifer sat, transfixed by the way your hips swayed from side to side, the way your eyes felt like they were burning into his soul, his cheeks burning read. No thoughts existed in his head at that moment besides the thought of your curves coming towards him and the way that his cock throbbed for you in his pants.

You sat yourself on the end of his bed and kicked up your right leg over the other to unbuckle the clasp on one of your heels, making sure to position yourself so that Lucifer could see more of your leg through the slit in your dress and so that you cleavage showed more prominently from the V-neckline. You look up at him through your eyelashes to see him tremble a little, his breathing starting to labor. Oh lord, you could see just how much he needed this, and that excited you even more.

You finished unclipping your heel and you let it drop to the floor with a light clatter. You straightened up and looked over your shoulder at Lucifer, "Does my good boy want to help me with my other shoe?"

Lucifer gave a little whimper and bit his lip a little as he gave you an enthusiastic nod. He was so cute and desperate, if his tail was out it would probably be wagging.

You move a little closer and kicked your left leg up onto his lap and propped yourself up to watch his work, giving him a quick cheeky look of 'Well? Get to it!'

Lucifer took a few moments to look at the red heel that was connected to the gorgeous leg that now sat in his lap. Lucifer took a breath, and then with trembling hands worked to try undoing the clasp of the shoe. It took a little longer than it took you, but he eventually got the clasp undone and let the shoe slide off the bed to the ground. Lucifer took the opportunity to slowly slide one of his hands up your leg, up to the hem of your dress, and back down in admiration. Holy hell, her skin was so soft and beautiful.

You closed your eyes and hummed softly as you soaked in the sensation of his touch on your skin, "What a good boy you are, Lucifer." You cooed, removing your leg away from his reach. He looked sad for a moment, but it would not be for long. You hooked a leg over his body and got up onto the bed, now straddling his thighs.

A surprised breathy moan escaped Lucifer's lips as you moved onto his lap and he started to dig his claws into his sheets on either side of his body.

You chuckle again before you look down at him from your new position. You had never felt more power than you did right at that moment, and it was beautiful. Seeing the King of Hell under you, desperate for your next command or touch... now that was dangerous.

As Lucifer laid under you, defenseless and breathing heavily, he released his claws from the sheets and lightly picked up the edge of the skirt of your dress on either side of you and held them softly in his hands.

"M-may I?" he asked with pleading eyes, lifting the skirt up a little to show his intensions to remove your dress.

You cross your arms and put a finger up to your cheek in an action pretending to think about, making Lucifer wait.

"P-please?" he said after several seconds, sense of urgency in his voice.

You dropped the act and smirked down at him with a pleased smile and nodded. Lucifer excitedly, but carefully worked to pull the dress off of you and tossed it onto the ground to join your shoes. Lucifer now looked at you and you saw his eyes turn from soft desperation back into a deep animalistic hunger as they raked lustfully down the new view of your body.

You sat proud of yourself as you sat straddled across Lucifer's thighs wearing a deep sapphire blue lacy bra and a matching blue thong that, frankly, served no purpose other than to be something to be ripped off of you.

Lucifer softly ran his claws up your thighs, up your hips, across your abdomen, over your breasts, up your collar bone, other your shoulders, down your arms, and down you your hands, taking in every inch of your body that he could see in that moment. You tip your head back and allow long moan to escape you as his hands glide across your body, soft but electric and hot.

You tip your head back down to look at Lucifer, his hands in yours. You release his hands and start to slide you hands up his chest to his bowtie.

"Alright, baby, your turn," you coo, starting to undo his bowtie. Lucifer began to shake and breath heavily under your touch. You toss the bowtie to the ground, slowly undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing his soft pale neck. You nuzzle your face into his neck and plant your first soft kiss on his neck.

Lucifer responds to the contact with a deep and long moan, he almost couldn't take any more of this torturous, slow teasing. And yet he also felt like he couldn't get enough of it. He felt energetic and alive for the first time in what felt like forever, it was pure bliss. He never wanted it to stop.

You giggle again at his response, and continue to unbutton the remaining buttons down his shirt. You lean down to look into Lucifer's eyes and say "Now Lucifer, I want you to tell me something."

He looks up at you with shiny, lust filled eyes, "Yes?"

"Tell me... what is it that you truly desire?" you say with a smirk, as you continue work on his buttons.

Lucifer thinks for a few seconds, thinking about all of the sexy, blissful ideas he wants to tell you and then... for some reason... he turns his head to the side of his bed... her side of the bed... all of the sound goes quiet, the room starts to go blurry, everything starts to shake, and then...

It all goes dark.

____________________________________________________________

He no longer feels like he is in his bedroom, its just him... and Lilith... looking at him with her bright smile, before the smile fades, and she turns to walk away into the darkness. Then it's Charlie... happily giggling on his lap, small, clapping at his stories, before Lilith picks her up off his lap and walks out of the room with her. It's his old workshop in heaven full of his wonderful dreams and creations, now a dark red room full of endless piles of ducks. It's giving the apple to Eve, then standing in an arena of the Heavenly Council, and then the deep long fall into hell, watching his hands pale hands turn to claws, watching the white feathers of his transform to turn a deep crimson, his halo shatter into space and long red horns grow in its place on his head before he crashes to the surface of a newly created Hell.

What does he desire? What does he TRULY DESIRE?! He wants back everything he has ever lost! He wants to know why everyone has cast him away and abandon him. He wants to know why everyone had to think his dreams were so fucking dangerous. He wants to remember what it was like to not hate himself so much!

Lucifer pulled at his hair and screamed into the void of his mind as he fell to his knees and cried.

______________________________________________________________

From your perspective, you ask your question, Lucifer's eyes go from full of life and lust to empty, his head tips to the side, and they start to fill with panic as he start to hyperventilate.

You drop your current persona and start to assess the situation. You quickly move off of Lucifer and go to his side instead.

"Lucifer?" No response. "Lucifer? Talk to me, what do you need?"

Something in your voice makes Lucifer snap back from his dissociative nightmare land, but he continues to hyperventilate.

'Fuck! Think! Didn't you learn something about this on earth? '

You think for a minute, shaking your hands as you look around the room, at him, trying to think. You softly take his hand and start gently rubbing the back of it with your thumb. Lucifer snaps to look at you, so quickly, it almost startles you.

"Hey," you say with the calmest and warmest smile you can muster, "I'm here, you are ok. You are safe here with me." Lucifer continues to look at you with panic in his eyes, but with recognition there too.

"I'm a friend, you are at your house, in your bed... in... hell. Uhh... you are in the Pride ring... Nothing is going to hurt you here, you are safe," you continue to say as you continue to rub the back of his had. If you had said half of that sentence back on Earth, it would have probably made things worse, but here... hopefully it would be more grounding.

Slowly, Lucifer breathing slows its pace and he looks around the room more. You look around the room and see a cup on a nearby table.

After waiting a few more minute, you ask, "Do you want any water?" Lucifer thinks for a briefly about your question, and nods his head.

You squeeze his hand and say "I will be right back." You set down his hand, go to grab the cup, and run to the bathroom to fill it with water. You come back to Lucifer's side and give him the cup, Lucifer slowly starts to drink some water as his breathing continues to slow down to a normal rate.

After a few more minutes, he shakes his head.

"Hey," he says in a defeated tone.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you say in a gentle voice, giving him your full and concerned attention.

He sighs, "Not great..." He was so scared, sad, angry, disappointed, full of guilt, shame.

You tip your head down in shame, "I... I'm so sorry." Lucifer looks over at you with a confused look. "I was reckless and I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me, your Highness?" Now it was you that was starting to shake a little.

Lucifer sighs, the guilt coming to the front the most out of all his current emotions. How could he explain to you just how wrong you were? But he could understand why you would think that. In his current state, he could only partly process how differently you now tended to him, how you looked at him. Almost like, you cared? That you were worried about him?

He gently put a hand on your head "Please, Lucifer is still fine, and this was not your fault, it.... it's complicated. I... thought I was ready for something like this, I was hoping I was. A small baby-step to moving forward, but no..." Lucifer tightened his left hand. "I'm not"

You looked up and his tightened hand, and for to first time noticed the gold band on his ring finger. This was not the anger and sadness of a happily married man, or even an unhappily married man, this was something... much more complicated.

You sat with Lucifer in mournful silence for what felt little forever, but it was probably not more than a few minutes.

Eventually, Lucifer sighed and broke the silence, "You should go..."

You looked up at Lucifer, whose head still hung in shame, his hand gripped tightly.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly.

Lucifer shrugged, "I'm not going to be much fun now, I don't think I'm cut out for this. Not yet anyway. Its me not you, trust me. You were amazing... it was fun while it lasted" He looked up at you with a weak smile, "You should try to enjoy the rest of your night while you can. No use letting and old sod like ruin your night."

You look down at your dress and shoes still on the floor, you sigh, pick up your dress and put it back on. You pick up your shoes and start to head to the door. You put your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it, wish the King goodbye, and walk away... but you don't. You stand there for a second.. thinking.

Lucifer noticed you pause, and looks up at you. You turn back to meet his gaze, his face decorated in a look of half confusion, half sadness.

"May I offer one last thought?" you ask with calm confidence.

Lucifer tips his head in curiosity, "What is it?"

You take a couple step back towards him, "I wonder... I think... you had the right idea with searching for intimacy, connection, but maybe we started in the wrong direction."

Lucifer cocks an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look, "I'm... not sure I follow."

You search again for the right words, "I mean like... uhhh... well... ok, when was the last time you just got a hug, not like a quick one, like one that made you feel cared about?"

Lucifer's body stiffened, then looked down and curled his legs close to his body, "It... its been... a long time."

You smile, and take another step towards Lucifer, and you open up your arms to him with a soft smile.

Lucifer looked up at you and perked up for a minute. Was she serious? Why did she continue to try? Why didn't she leave him to his own misery? She didn't need to care about his feelings right now... and yet... she did.

Lucifer slowly started to slide out of his bed, shirt still most of the way unbuttoned, hair all a mess, and started to walk over to you. When there was only a few feet left between the two of you, Lucifer paused, and then practically ran the rest of the way into your arms and wrapped himself around your waist, as you return the embrace.

You stand there, hugging him for a minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, and after the first few minutes, you feel Lucifer start to shake in your arms as he started to cry. Lucifer tightened his embrace around you the harder he cried, burying his face in your shoulder. At one point he tries to wail out an apology, but you just shush him and let him continue to cry as you rubbed his back.

After about a half hour of him crying in your embrace, you ask him if he wants to continue standing there or if he wants to sit down. In response, Lucifer releases his arms from you waist and reaches up to wrap his arms around you neck instead. You adjust and decide to just go for it and pick him up, carrying him over to his bed. You sit in his bed with him hugging you around your neck as you hold him in your lap.

Lucifer could not stop the tears that flowed from his face, he didn't remember the last time he had cried this much, cried this hard. And for some reason, in your arms, he didn't care. The tears felt good. Liberating.

You don't know how much time passes, but slowly his crying starts to get quieter and quieter, turning to sniffles, until you realize that the King of Hell had just fallen asleep in your arms.

You carefully move to get up at set him down in his bed without waking him up, and you tuck him into his bed. Before you leave the room, you quickly find a piece of paper and pen, and write out a quick note. You leave the note on his side table before grabbing your shoes, turning off the light, and giving him one last look before closing the door.

You make your way back down the long manor hallway, back to where the driver said he would be, and you let him know your visit was over. You grab your coat, put on your shoes, took one last look at the beautiful inside of the manor, and walked out to the car with the driver.

Who knows if you would be back here again, but it sure was interesting while it lasted.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3 is in the works! Let me know if you want added to a tag list <3

[datauthorress]

Feral! Logan / Telekinetic! Disabled! Reader

Picture this:

You live at the X-Mansion, having telekinetic powers like Jean and use a cane to get around. It was a random day, and you were reading outside by the lake. Scott, Jean and Kurt had gone on a mission to look into a mutant up in the Canadian mountains. After an hour of reading, you head inside, only to see that Scott, Jean and Kurt were back and the three of them were talking about someone.

You asked what had happened and Scott explained that they had found two mutants in the Canadian mountains, one of them being a man who exhibited animal-like behavior, specifically cat-like behavior, and a young girl around ten-years-old who also exhibited cat-like behavior. However, after taking the girl to get her clean, the man had shut himself in one of the bathrooms and growled at anyone who tried to get close.

You had offered to see if you could try and get through to the man. Scott had given you some clothes and you went to the bathroom to see what you could do.

The man inside was…much bigger than you thought. He was definitely over six feet tall and in a crouching position, filthy from head to toe.

“Hey,” you said, and the man bared white teeth at you, showing off a pair of sharp fangs. You assured him that you weren’t going to hurt him and once you mentioned the girl that had been with him, the man seemed to calm down and allowed you to work.

He tolerated the makeshift shower, shaking the water off once you were done and getting you wet. You only sputtered and wiped your face dry, giving the man a “really” look.

When you helped him put the clothes on, you had taken a closer look at the dog tags hanging from around his neck and saw two names, ‘Logan’ and ‘Wolverine’.

“Logan?” you said softly, glancing into the man’s eyes. He had only tilted his head, as if confused by the name or seemed to recognize the name.

Scott had said that Charles suspected the man was suffering from severe amnesia, perhaps to the point that he could only remember how to act like an animal. The tuffs of hair on top of his head reminded you of a cat for sure.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing your cane and holding out your hand towards Logan.

Logan eyed your hand, as if debating whether or not to take your hand. After a moment, he reached a large hand up and took yours, grasping it firmly. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before you took him to the bedroom where his daughter was. Upon seeing her, Logan leapt onto the bed and cradled the child in his arms, nuzzling his nose against her forehead.

For some reason, you had a hunch that this was going to be interesting.

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

[fraugwinska]

THIS JUST POPPED IN MY HEAD AND I NEEDED TO SHARE!!!! Alastor in a established relationship with reader who has hair like Rapunzel (maybe not EXACTLY but it definitely touches the floor) it’s always getting stepped on by busy feet or chewed on by a particular piggy to the point where she practically carrying it everywhere she goes. One day Al asks why wont she just cut it she tells him it signifies the days they were apart/days she waited for his return as human (I think his death was something she could never cope with :(( ) but now they are together again he cuts it for her and helps her let go of that pain! He anit going nowhere now. He promises. <333

Hello my lovely! I finally came around to write this - and I think it was good to wait to be in the right headspace. It's not a fullblown oneshot, but I think this SlutSnack (Or... FluffSnack?) will be just as good! No warnings this time - just wonderful, sweet fluff for y'all! (@minkdelovely I'm looking at you!)

Let down your Hair

"No, please, come on, Nuggie, that doesn't taste good, let go now, come on..."

You tried and tried, but Angel's pet pig wasn't budging, a thick strand of your hair in its mouth, jaw locked and squeal angry. You pulled on the hair, while Husk, having pity with you, held onto the ferocious piglet as you shouted for Angel once more.

"Oh darling, again?" A familiar cane with a microphone sitting on top of it bonked the piggy on its head, and in a shocked squeak it let you finally free. You tried not to feel too bad for the thing as you scrambled your masses of hair together in your arms and Alastor, your savior, tutted at the little pink ball in Husks hands, his eyes glowing dangerously.

"That's the third time this week. Maybe your owner should keep a better eye on you, or I might be in the mood for pork chops."

"Don't 'ya dare, Creepy McCreeperston!" Angel came running, pulling Fat Nuggets out of Husk’s grip and cradled it softly. The cat demon, relieved of being released from the burden of caring, returned quickly to the bar, determined to get out of whatever the hell kind of fight would certainly follow.

"Oh, I do dare if this thing keeps on guzzling her hair, you frivolous..."

"He's a baby, he doesn't know better 'ya cocky..."

"Stop it.", you said decidedly, getting nervous when Alastors antlers began to crack and grow. "It's okay, he didn't... chew it off, Alastor. But Angel, I'd really appreciate it if you would keep a closer eye on him, okay?"

Alastor took a deep breath, returning to his normal form with a sigh and joined your side, gathering the rest of your long hair with an annoyed frown.

Angel huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "Fine." He turned around, tickling the pigs belly as he took the stairs to his room and mumbled loudly "...Don't know why she has to have fucking hair like goddamn Rapunzel and make this shit my problem."

"Because," Alastor said loudly after him, his hair dangerously spiking and static crackling, "It should be her own decision whether to cut her hair or not, not this... pest’s eating habit, mhh?"

"Alastor...", you said softly, touched by his fierce protective gesture, "Would you come to my room and help me sort this mess out? I think I have some pretty nasty knots in there now." You put a hand on his arm, and his eyes snapped to you. He smirked, not really calming, and offered his arm, holding your masses of locks safely on the other one.

"Of course... anything for you, dear!"

The first twenty minutes were filled with nothing but Alastors soothing, soft jazz he loved to play when you were alone and the quiet scraping of your hairbrush, detangling your overly long locks. He slowly calmed down from his agitated state, not wanting to show it too obviously but fondly twirling your smoothed down hair through his fingers. You enjoyed these quiet times together with him - normally he'd talk a lot, that came with the job of being the radio demon, and you'd listen attentively, not having the heart to miss a single word that came out of his mouth.

But sometimes silence was even more lovely, because it showed you that he didn't feel the need to entertain, to pretend and to put on a show, but just... be. With you. And maybe he could sense that it made you happy. Or he knew exactly how relaxing these moments could be. Whatever the case, your mind started to wander, reveling in the soft tugs of the brush and the shivers running down your spine when his claws finally reached your scalp.

"Why don't you cut it?" Alastor asked quietly and you jolted from your musing, humming and turning your head slightly. "Hm?" Alastor scratched carefully behind your ears, waiting for the tension to disappear from your muscles before he continued brushing. "Why haven't you cut your hair yet? It must be quite a bother to maintain."

You turned your head and blinked at him. The dreaded question... you knew it had to come one day. If you were honest, you'd even suspected him to ask it sooner. The answer was easy... but you hesitated to let him know. Alastor loved details, craved them in fact - but it was sentimental, silly even, and you couldn't bear the thought of him thinking less of you. Now the time had come - he had asked you directly, and you resented lying to him even more than looking foolish to him.

"Do you remember the day at the fair? The one where you took me on that boat ride?"

Alastor hummed happily, braiding the front of your hair, his claws delicately folding section over section. "Yes, of course. What a fine evening that was! You looked gorgeous as ever, I think you wore the red summer dress I gifted you for your birthday that year. You normally wore your hair straight, but it was beautifully laid in those finger waves that were all the rage then - right until here." His hand trailed down to caress the nape of your neck, making you bite your tongue on a sigh, and continued. "And I promised to you then on that boat that I'd return to you in a heartbeat, wherever you may wait or roam, no matter what, because..."

"...a lifetime with you could never be enough to satisfy me." you ended the sentence for him, a sad smile on your face."And yet it was the last day I saw you alive."

He stopped suddenly, the feeling of his claws being gone and your back growing cold made you flinch and turn, wondering whether you had ruined everything. Alastors eyes looked stormy and you swallowed, your hands absent-mindedly stroking a strand of hair that fell over your shoulder. 

"I've kept my hair like this for every time I imagined your return ever since you died. To signify those days I spent longing for you, mourning after I've seen the papers and..." You closed your eyes, refusing to fall back into those dark memories. The screams the nightmares brought into your nights, fueled by the horrific stories the papers wrote about him. The hollow words of family and friends and people who were merely interested by the gossip of his life and death. The morbid curiosity and the grins and giggles at his unceremonial end while you cursed them all for tainting his image. The undying anger and hurt, your stubborn love for a man who died so young and left you to grow old alone. "...Every inch of it is a testament that I've never stopped loving you. And that I've never stopped believing in those words you said to me that day." You opened your eyes again, looking at Alastors stricken face.

"I know it's foolish..." you said gently, watching how the realization struck Alastors eyes and softened them. He visibly forced his expression to stay in the signature smile of his, but you could sense the emotion in his voice.

"Don't belittle it. Your sentiments for me have always been... most precious to me. Even now. Perhaps especially now." You shuddered when his fingertips trailed up your arms and brushed away the tick of your hair, his mouth reaching for the delicate skin of your neck. "Heaven truly lost a perfect angel the moment you fell into hell, darling."

The tears you shed were softly kissed away by him. After you both calmed down enough from the overtake of emotions, something that had become so foreign for the radio demon, he gently sat you back down in front of your vanity mirror.

"My love... as much as it honors both you and me... keeping the weight of those past memories locked in your hair isn't necessary anymore. You have me now, and I have no intention to leave, not unless you wish me to. Let me relieve you from the burden of carrying it."

Alastor cut your hair, strand by strand while you told him about the decades of life lived without him. It felt like a liberation, to finally tell him how painful the years had been and how empty and incomplete you had felt. When you ended with telling him how relieved you were that the body you spawned in your afterlife wasn't the frail and withered one you left behind, but one that resembled your happier days, young and in love and optimistic, he had cut the masses of hair to the same length you had on that fateful day at the fair. Your head felt light and you stroked the short strands, a surprised and disbelieving laugh bursting out of you when you saw that girl again in the mirror.

Alastor smiled with deep satisfaction, carefully putting the scissors away before he pulled you into a close embrace from behind, meeting your gaze in the mirror and pressing a chaste, possessive kiss to the top of your head."Who needs a mere lifetime, darling, when you can have eternity?"

[jishyucks]

Candy Cane Delays — lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

‣ wc: 3k

‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same

‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY

Series Masterlist

Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.

And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram. 

Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised. 

But whatever you wished, you never received. 

And that was okay. 

Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams. 

Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store. 

It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon. 

“Can I have three, please?” 

You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side. 

“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you. 

The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!” 

“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up. 

You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use. 

“Am I too late?” 

Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.

You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.” 

A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late. 

“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face. 

You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?” 

Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.” 

You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him. 

The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”

“How were the sales today, Y/N?” 

Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.

“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.  

Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.” 

You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind. 

“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.

“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?

“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.” 

Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.” 

“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”

Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”

You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.

“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you. 

“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.” 

“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her. 

And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.

For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice. 

Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts). 

The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent. 

He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.

“Am I late?”

Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.” 

You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.” 

He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”

“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.” 

“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you. 

You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~” 

Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted. 

Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.

But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it. 

But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it. 

“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”

“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.” 

“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?” 

“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.” 

Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently. 

Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?” 

You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.” 

“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.

You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper. 

“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips. 

When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.

Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it…  Why didn’t he tell you anything?

After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.

Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right? 

Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one. 

Hope was a bitch, too.

“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room. 

Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk. 

“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”

You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark.  “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”

You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements. 

From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it. 

“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.” 

“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”

“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation. 

“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”

You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark. 

Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From. 

Your heart skips another beat. 

Winter Dance with me?

“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”

You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.” 

“W-what?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()

an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!

[kittenlittle24]

Cleopatra

As always, gif not mine, likes and comments are appreciated!

Masterlist

You were a few years younger than Gregory House when you met. Before he suffered an infarction in his right leg, before he met Stacy.

You met Gregory House when he was a resident and you were in your last year of high school. You came to visit a friend that was hospitalized. He was sharp and quick, he saw things others missed or ignored and knew how to connect the dots.

He was the reason you went to study medicine, though unlike him you became a surgeon. Despite his reputation, for you, he had a soft spot and helped you with your studies, and was never too mean to you. Of course, he pushed you to your limits so you’d be the best but he never did anything to hurt you.

When he had his infection and diagnosed himself you visited him in the hospital and he told you he chose the painful path to keep his leg. He chose to undergo a procedure to bypass circulation around the dead muscle. The result was intense pain during the healing process.

That was also where you met his girlfriend. In one of the times visiting him, she was sitting with him, one hand holding his, the other stroking his face. You felt your stomach clench at the sight but pushed through when his eyes met yours. You planted a fake smile on your lips and entered the room, you knew he was in too much pain to see through you.

A few days later your phone rang, and his name popped on screen, though it wasn’t his rough voice that greeted you. It was instead Stacy’s. Asking for your opinion about Cuddy’s middle-ground offer, it didn’t matter how much you objected because, in the end, you understood that she had her mind made up as soon as he asked to be placed in a chemically induced coma.

After that phone call, you rushed to the hospital, hoping you would get there before he’s taken to surgery.

You reached the hallway just as he was pulled out of the room, Stacy exited behind him, “Stop! Please!”

Grabbing Stacy’s attention, she shook her head at the nurses taking him before she marched straight up to you and told you to stay away and put you on the not allowed to visit list.

You desperately wanted to be there for him but Stacy didn’t like having a young groupie around her boyfriend and made sure that you knew that. You didn’t come back after that. You were petrified that he would blame you for not stopping Stacy.

You got an offer for a fellowship at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and decided to take it because you heard he works there now. You felt that you had unfinished business between the two of you. You weren’t sure whether what drove you back was guilt or the feelings you pushed down since the day you met him.

You’d like to think you’ve changed in the last few years. Superficially, you changed your hair and the way you dressed. But you also grew, you weren’t some meek resident or a high schooler blinded by her adoration for him, you were a stronger and more resilient person now.

Or so you’d like to think.

About a month into your fellowship a young female doctor with long brown hair, walked up to you introduced herself as Dr Cameron, and asked if you could get your boss to help with her case. Learning she’s on a fellowship as well you quickly became friends and it wasn’t long before she exposed that she’s a fellow under one Dr Greg House. You exchanged details and promised to hang out before going your separate ways. You occasionally saw him in the cafeteria or the clinic; if he recognized you he never admitted it. You felt that same stomach clench when you saw him eating lunch with Wilson and Stacy walked up to them to talk.

Much later that day, or rather night, you walked to the glass block office, staring at the clear door on which in white capital letters GREGORY HOUSE, MD. Was written.

You turned sharply at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you. There he stood, a black blazer on a light blue shirt and a cane in his right hand.

Seeing him this close you noticed the grey hairs and the crowfeet and realized a lot must have happened in the last five years since you saw each other.

“I was curious how long it would take you to come to see me.” He stated.

Lowering your head, you didn’t know if to be happy or anxious that he recognized you. Moving past you, he opened the door and walked into his office.

“Are you coming in or not?” He asked holding the door for you.

You didn’t need to be asked twice, rushing inside you watched him limp to his desk before taking a seat and raising his leg to rest on his desk.

Taking a pill bottle out of his inner pocket, he rattled it before opening it and popping a pill into his mouth.

“Are you still involved with Stacy?”

Placing the Vicodin bottle on his glass desk and picking up his red ball instead, “Nope.” He replied as he tossed and caught it, playing catch with himself.

Feeling a slight relief at his answer, you glanced at the chair on the opposite end, you considered sitting but you were still too anxious and hyped about what was about the nearing discussion and chose to stare outside the window behind him.

“You asked a question, now, my turn.” He stated as he continued to play with his ball, never looking at you, “Why disappear and suddenly reappear?”

“Those are two questions.” You whispered still staring at the dark skyline.

Putting the ball down, he pulled his legs down, grabbed his cane, and came to stand in your face, “Let me rephrase, where were you when they agreed to surgically remove my muscle?”

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath, “She asked to stay away. Stacy called to consult about the surgery, I knew that she had her mind set and that she wouldn’t listen to anything I was going to say.”

He took a small step forward, which made you retreat, “You didn’t stop them.” He excused.

Feeling a tear slide down your cheek, you harshly wiped it as if he didn’t see it.

“I tried House! I had no power, she was your appointed medical proxy and she told me to stay away.”

As if the fight left him, House went silent. Walking past you he left his office and headed straight to the elevator.

You let out a shaky breath as you heavily sat down and covered your face with your palms. You knew you weren’t done yet.

He barged into Stacy’s office, the door slamming against the wall from the force he used on it.

“You sent Y/n away?”

Dropping the papers she was reading she leaned back in her chair, “I’m surprised she didn’t run to tell until now.”

Standing up she moved to lean against her desk, “She was in love with you, probably still is. I had to fight for our relationship every day after your surgery enough, I didn’t need her there to watch me fail and wait to take my spot.”

“You were so insecure about our relationship that you sent her away from me.” He concluded.

He shook his head and left her office to go back to his. He paused at the doorway when she called his name but didn’t turn to face her.

“She worships you, don’t ruin it.”

He nodded once and walked away.

Once he reached his office door he hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle. He stared at the back of your head, seemingly you didn’t move while he went to confront Stacy. Sighing he pushed the door open and entered it.

“I take it Stacy told you the same I did.” You softly said as you mindlessly pushed something back and forth on top of his desk, your back still facing him.

Taking a couple of steps forward, he tapped his cane on the carpet, “Also shared this interesting theory that you’re in love with me.”

You turned in your seat, your arm resting on the backrest as you stared at him, not knowing if he was yanking your chain or actually dense.

“Not going to deny yet?”

Standing up you stepped up to him, “House, are you kidding me? I'd be your mistress just to have you around.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline, he opened his mouth to say some sarcastic remark but stopped himself.

After a few seconds in which he stayed silent, “I came here to apologize for not fighting harder, maybe-“

“There wasn’t anything you could have done. Stacy wouldn’t have let you.”

Shaking your head, “Probably not, but I still owe you an apology. And I am sorry I wasn’t there.”

Walking past him towards the door, “I guess I’ll see you around, Dr. House.”

[penelope-potter]

Smudged Lipstick~♡

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Owl Hybrid! Reader

Summary: You are an Owl Hybrid Demon, who's power is to see the memories of sinners past life's. Out of fear that others might take your power for their own good, Angel came up with the idea of presenting you as a porn star with love powers instead- to avoid trouble. Alastor who grew fond of you, offer his help...

Warnings: No one it just gets a little hot in here doesn't it?

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You sat on the sofa in the hotel lobby, your head leaned against the palm of your hand, while you listened to the groups discussion about how to come up with a lie to protect your new found powers. You adored the fact that the group of sinners you grew close with actually trying to help you out with your problem, just like you did it with theirs. You had the ability to see the memories of the past life's from sinners, so you were a great part for the team of the whole redemption thing Charlie is so excited about. You offered your powers to Angel first, which he agreed on, and what ended up in an emotional puddle for both of you.

Therefore it was just more than obvious he wanted to help you too. So he came up with the amazing idea to push the hint out of peoples eyes that you have such powers, to replace it with another. Your head rose up. "I should be what?!" You asked, all eyes on you. "A love demon, seriously Angel?" Asked Husk with a sceptic glance. He was kind of protective of you, so when Angel came up with something like this, surely made his nerves go wild. "What? She already looks like some sort of love demon I mean just look at her!" He pointed at you. "Also whats the matter? Porn is always a good way to put a spell on peoples heads..." Angel winked at you as you glanced over to Alastor who sat on the other side of the room in his armchair. Legs crossed and his smile plastered on his face like always, although now it looks somehow more forced than before. His eyes hiding a slight bit of annoyance.

You knew that he wasn't very fond of the way Angel constantly flirts with anybody including him. Or any sexual themes in general so you suddenly felt embarrassed about it. Maybe it was the fact that you developed a crush on the Radio demon, or the whole idea of you doing things what would normally only Angel would do, brought you more cringe than anything. "They will never believe that I'm...well-" You started, heat rushed up to your cheeks. "Oh come on toots, you'll be amazing just look at you! Heart shaped antlers, cute lil' heart spots on your wings... your whole appearance screams for love!" He teased and came to you only to squish your face between his hands. "...you look so innocent, the people will go wild when they see that the little bird becomes an eagle..."

"I don't think (Y/N) is very comfortable with the idea of doing such nasty things like you Angel..." All heads turned around to look at Alastor who just looked in your direction, the others long forgotten. His position bever changed, but his hands firmly gribbed his cane in a more aggressive way than before. Angel's head turned to him, a smile spread across his features. "Oh oh big scary demon thinking someone will take his girl?~" Alastor's grin tighten and his head titles to the side. You could see the anger boiling up inside him so you just tried to brush it off. "It's alright Al, we have to do something that the other sinners won't get any clues. Even if that means doing something like this. It's just photos." The demon looked at you, his eyes still holding the war between grabbing Angel and smash him against the nearest wall or to actually pay attention to what you were saying. "I won't do anything that's above my boundaries..." You assured him, and finally his gaze softened. Like always when he interacts with you. You liked that you have such an impact on him and felt kind of honored for the special treatment he gave you. So you didn't wanted to make him uncomfortable in any way. "Oh come on now sugar cheeks, you don't have to promise him anything he don't owns you!" Angel said with furrowed brows and looked directly at him. "I know that Angel, he's just trying to remind me that I don't have to do this." You smiled at Alastor before you stood up infront of Angel. "So you two are gonna do this for real?" Husk asked again. "Yep. Maybe it won't even work, but we should have tried out everything." Angel nodded, the anger of the deer in the room long forgotten. "Well I'm happy you two found something to start with!" Cheered Charlie, a bit unsure about the situation as well. "When you two need help with something-" "Oh we don't need help but thanks Charlie. She will learn everything she needs to know from me." He grinned and grabbed you by the arms. "Let's go!" "Wait, now?" "Of course! The sinners won't wait an enternity for you! Let's get you dressed up, we're taking pictures!"

The enthusiasm he has for this left you shook your head. "I don't know Angel, I think I will mess this up." You said as you picked up a bright pink puff sleeved crop top which looked like it could pnly fit Fat Nuggets. You even wonder how Angel ever managed to get into that thing. "Of course you can, I'll be with you so don't worry. We'll just let them think theres a new star on the Angels lap. He was so excited about it. You were not. "Don't say that like this. Nevermind, tell me what should I wear?" He grinned and turned to his closet, almost throwing everything on the inside out so let out a chuckle while trying to catch some of the things. "Wow I never saw you in one of these..." You hold up a black skin tight leather jacket. "Well it's because not for everyone to enjoy!" He said grabbed it back. After a while he picked something for you, something that was fitting you in his words. Now you are standing there with a rainbow choker around your neck, a white crop top and your hair messed up on the top of your head. "Is this really necessary?" You asked once again as the spider cursed under his breath while doing your eyeliner. "Hold still and yes this is necessary. You want them to eat this shit up don't ya?" "Fucks Sake...." you muttered as he turned you around for you to look in the mirror. You let out an exciting gasp. "Wow Angel you did amazing! I look so..." You started. "Amazing?" He finished for you smiling. "Thanks toots, got me a while to get it right." He said. You turned your head in every angle, admiring your eyeshadow with the heart symbols and your eyeliner. The colors were fitting your wing color and your cheeks looked a lot more reddish than before. Your nose also had a nice sparkle on it. He even put on lipstick which was shimmering red like blood. "Let's do this!" Angel grabbed a camera from his bed and turned around. Your smile dropped. Oh lord...

Getting the pictures to look like you ACTUALLY know what you were doing was a lot harder than thought. You lost track of how long you two needed to have atleast five to six photos to fill with every week to post. You were quite confused and ashamed for not getting it right, even then Angel showed you more than once how to pose. His constant laughing made it only worse. "Fuck it, I quit! You said angrily. Sweat covered your forehead and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller than before. "I'm sorry sweet cheeks, it's just pure comedy that you've actually no idea of how a hot mess looks like, don't you?" You sighed. "No Angel I don't." He titled his head. "Never caught by a hot made out session?" You blushed. "No!" "Aww". "Shut up, I think we have enough pictures for today." You walked to the door and swung it open finally breathing the chill air inside and let your hot cheeks cool down. Angel followed you. "Alright we will find a solution. When imagine the whole thing won't work out, then I might just kiss you by suprise..."

You stopped abruptly and turned around. "No!" "But either way you won't deliver it the right way!" "Noy absolutely no- you are like a brother to me Angel please." You said almost desperate, only for you to see that Alastor was standing right beside you two.

Great.

You felt your head burning as you suddenly felt very aware of the minimalist amount of clothes you wore and tried to ignore him. "Okay that's sweet of you but that won't stop me." He said and his shit eating grin never left his face. Angel reached out for your lips with his thumb. "What are you doing?!" "Smudging your lipstick so that it at least looks like you just got caught in a hot make out session." You already started to protest as Alastor walked closer standing right next to you. "Well hello dear. I overheard a little. Seems like you could use a hand!" His smiled widened. "How could you from all of hell help her?" Angel asked and furrowed a brow. "Hmm I think I'm quite good to let a face looks like a mess." He said and glanced over to the spider who just scrunched at his choose of words. Alastors eyes darted back at you, his hand slipped up to your upper back and rested right between you shoulder blades. The touch send shivers down your spine as you tried to remain realxed. "Uh sure. I don't think we will need your-" "I think it's worth a shot don't you think? Because for me it seems like you two are somewhere stuck in the progress..." Alastor said, his hand wandered to your side, pulling you closer. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden touch from him. It was normal for you that he invades your personal space but not like this and not for that long.

Angel looked over at you, silently asking for your permission. "Uh yes why not let him help!" Seriously you don't even know what you're saying at this point. You were too flustered and you head was filled with nothing as his smell. Freaking feelings. "Maybe we can make it quick with the photo." You said ignoring the fact that your heart was louder than the words you spoke. "Okaay...well when anything happens I'm in my room. Waiting for you." Angel said but his eyes followed every movement from the deer next to you. He knows that you're in love with him, he found it out as you two were sitting in the kitchen and caught you staring at the demon from across the room. He teased you about it of course just in a funny way, but he is also protective of you because he doesn't trust Alastor one bit. He just don't want you to get hurt. Although you and him are somehow very good friends. You nodded as the spider walked away slowly one last look in your direction as he left around the corner. You sighed. "You know you don't have to do this." He looked at you confused. "Whatever do you mean dear?" He looked a lot more calm now, his statue more relaxed as he swirled his cane between his fingers. "Helping me out with this. I know you don't like that kind of stuff and me neither. You can't imagine how desperate I looked like while taking the pictures." You laughed in hopes that he will turn on his heels and left. Instead he closed his tooth grin to a relaxed smile which always seemed to you like it was truly genuine. "Oh don't break your pretty little head about this songbird. I know you are far too sweet for something like...this."

His gaze lowered to your top and you already felt the heat rushed into your head. Oh how he loved seeing you so flushed because of him. Suddenly the distance of you and him grew smaller from second to second as he towered over you, gently grabbing your hand in his while rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. "I must say darling, this color suits you unbelievable good, I wonder how it will look smudged..." He pulled you closer with his other hand now on your lower back. Your bodies pressed against each other he lowered his head so you had to look up just to see his crimson eyes half lidded. "You...know you don't have to act." You said breathless. "Who said I'm acting, cher?" His smile grew even softer and it almost looked like it was fading as he let go of your hand just to slide his sharp claw over your bottom lip, careful not to hurt you. Goosebumps running down your neck and you could only stare at him as he cupped your cheeks in his hands and came impossible closer to your face. You grabbed his collar out of excitment, what caused the deer to let out a quiete huff. His lips brushing over yours like a feather as he spoke. "If anyone tries to harm you in any way after this picture...I will rip their ridiculous organs out of their bodies..." He whispered against your lips. "...you are far too pure to be resembled as some sort of toy..." "Al-" You whispered, shaking.

He finally broke the last few inches and pressed his lips against yours. You gasped suprisingly. It was not a peck it was more than a good friend should be doing. Thousand questions raced through your brain but you couldn't care less. Instead you became braver and grabbed his neck running your fingers up to his undercut. His hips molded into yours as he pulled you even closer so you could feel his racing heartbeat against your chest. The tip of his tongue silently asked for permission on your bottom lip as you opened your mouth a bit. His claws digged into your hair and a soft groan escaped him. You felt the heat in your head and you bei you looked like his crimson suit for sure. What seemed like an enternity the two of you let go of each other, for you to breathe and for him to pepper your neck with sharp kisses. His lips were now tinted in the same red color as yours, the messy red scattered around his lips and smushed over the edges. He looked even hotter in this messy state you realized, his cheeks suddenly also a bit reddish. You wanted to say something but you already heard steps coming from the floor.

"Toots, Smiles where are you for fucks sake? Messing something up can't take this long..." Your heart dropped to the floor in an instant as you tried to free yourself from his grip only for him to still hold you close. He could easily aviod this drama to be seen. He could just miracle the lipstick stains away but he didn't moved. You're standing there, the red color still on his lips and Angel would obviously see what you two were doing but he didn't seemed to mind.

He finds your flustered state adorebal, really. "He-he will see us..." You started your last attempt to let go of him before it's too late but he only chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest, his face again close to yours. "Let him~"

"What. The. Fucking. Hell?!" Angel stood there, his jaw dropped on the floor. "Oh you are back! Well it seemed like I could helped a little. It was very exciting I must say!" His eyes followed back to yours and his smile grew wider. Angel would tease you forever for this. "Well I think our friend is left speechless dear. It was a pleasure." He grabbed your chin. "Don't be so shy little songbird. I like that smudged image of yours..." His eyes gazed to your lips again before he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek close to your mouth.

"Well then, I hope this helps for your little shooting! I will see you later." He said- only to you it seemed as he turned and left, the lipstick still over his face.

"What is even happening?!"

Angel shouted out and laughed unsure.

"I- I don't"

"Oh Husk will love this!"

"You shut up about this!"

"No way. But at least you had a hot made out session when I look at your face..."

"ANGEL!"

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Oh gosh I did it! I hope you enjoyed it!

Still in love with the lipstick trope~

[toxic3mmy]

I’m having a bad case of baby fever since I’m ovulating hard and I need fic of quackity with gf who’s ovulating like crazy and who’s begging for a baby

ooo baby fever!!! the only person in the world that i would ever want a baby w is alex😞😞 but yes, i got u my lovely <33 thx for the request

[also it cane out a bit diff than what u asked for im sorryyyy!! dont hate me bbg💔💔]

prompt: alex dealing with a baby fever filled gf

no smut but mentions of it ofc!!

everywhere you look, there’s babies. on tv commercials, at your job, even at the grocery store there’s always a baby who won’t stop smiling and cooing your way.

and who would make a cute baby? alex, your boyfriend, that’s who!

he has sparkling honey brown eyes with dark lashes framing them perfectly. his fair skin that has freckles and beautiful face moles. and his hair! he has a full head of hair that would look absolutely perfect on a sweet little baby.

lately, on your free time, you were indulging in this want and need and desire for a baby of your own. you were sneakily watching mommy and baby vlogs. you loved seeing their belly grow and their journey through their pregnancy. you even subscribed yourself to a baby magazine and it was what you looked forward to every time you checked your mail.

but you hid all of this from alex. you knew he probably wouldn’t understand. just how most men don’t understand why women obsessed over weddings and wedding planning. it also didn’t help that you were definitely ovulating.

and right now, you were sat listening to your boyfriend going on about his day. well, not really listening. more like admiring him and imagining him as a father and wow did that turn you on.

“what about you? how was your day?” alex asked suddenly

“oh, you know, i mostly just did my online coursework and cleaned the house a bit. i’ve been bored since you went out..” you said, trying to be inconspicuous

“trust me, i missed you too. now let’s eat. the food you made smells amazing” alex said, getting up to serve himself a plate

he served two plates of food, one for you and one for him. the two of you ate in mostly silence, with casual conversation here and there. once you finished eating, alex offered to wash the dishes since you did the cooking.

you sneakily pulled out your phone and scrolled through your pinterest. of course, you had baby related posts all over your feed and you loved it.

“babe.. this sponge sucks. where are the new ones we got the other day?” your boyfriend asked

“should be in the drawer next to the stove” you absentmindedly responded, eyes glued to your phone

alex opened the drawer and found your stash of baby magazines. he wasn’t blind, he knew what you had been obsessing over lately. this was the perfect time to bring it up. so he grabbed a sponge and washed the dishes. after drying his hands, he turned to face you.

“so… you’ve only been studying all day huh?” alex smirked, holding up one of your prized magazines

your eyes widened. you were at a loss for words.

“i-i uh… my sister is pregnant and um she sent me those to help her pick stuff out and—”

“hmm, addressed to our home to ms. y/n” alex interrupted

“do you think i don’t know by now? i see the way you’ve been looking at anything baby related online. i know you always volunteer to do the grocery shopping just for the chance of running into some mother with a baby… my question here is, why hide it?”

“i didn’t think you’d understand… i know how guys get when their girlfriends start talking about babies and i don’t know. i didn’t want to upset you. i didn’t want to make things weird between us..” you explained softly, expecting alex to get upset

he walked closer to where you were sitting and tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“i could never be upset with you princesa. you don’t have to hide things like this from me. you know i love kids just as much as you do” he reassured you

you nodded sadly, still feeling a sense of guilt.

“why don’t we start trying?”

your eyes lit up and a huge grin was etched onto your face.

“you really mean it?” you asked and alex nodded with a smile on his face

“i would just adore having a little munchkin running around here. i think you’d be a spectacular mother y/n. i can just imagine them having your big ‘ol eyes and your pretty lips” he caressed your face sweetly

“and your gorgeous freckles… oh my god alex! we would have the most adorable baby in the whole wide world! do you actually want to start trying?”

“yes i do, princesa. we’re in a good place financially and also in a healthy place in our relationship. i wouldn’t want to have a baby with anyone else but you” he smiled

“you’re going to be such an amazing dad. you don’t know how much i’ve daydreamed about you holding our baby in your strong sexy arms. the way you would be super protective over them. i just know you’d have our baby on your chest at all times. you’re so innocent and precious and so so good with kids alex. you are definitely daddy material” you stood from your seat and reached out to hold his hand

“also.. i may or may not pay attention to your ovulation period…” he said seductively

“what?! why? you’re a weirdo!” you teased him

“no! i mean i pay attention to when you write those notes on our calendar! you freak” alex was red in the face and you couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression

while you were too busy laughing, he suddenly stood up and pushed you against the wall nearby, trapping you there.

“you’re probably really sensitive right now, aren’t you?” his voice came out in a darker tone

“m-maybe…”

“let me make love to you, princesa. quiero impregnarte ahora mismo. quiero que me sientes y que sientes que te hago la mama de mis hijos chula…” he said, making sure to kiss your neck while he spoke

all you could do was nod. his words alone made you so wet and needy for him already.

“i’ll make sure that after tonight, you’ll definitely become a mother” he smirked, dragging you to your shared bedroom

[anniebeemine]

warnings: blinded reader who was injured in the field, anger, some rude comments to Spencer, happy ending :)

You heard the door creak open and the soft flicker of a light switch being flipped. Instinctively, you tried to step over the threshold, eager to be home after what felt like an eternity. But before you could take that step, Spencer’s hand was on your shoulder, the touch gentle but firm as he moved you slightly to the side.

“Hold on,” he said softly. “We sort of left a mess. Let me go in first.”

The air felt different in the entryway—warmer, familiar, and yet, with the loss of sight, strangely foreign. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like everything had changed. You knew the layout of your home by heart, each piece of furniture and each corner. But now, in the absence of your vision, everything felt distant, like a memory you were trying to recall in the dark.

You stood in the doorway, listening closely to the sounds inside your home. There was the unmistakable thud of shoes being tossed to the side, followed by the soft rustle of clothing being picked up and moved. Each sound painted a picture in your mind, filling in the blanks that your eyes could no longer see. A small smile tugged at your lips, and you tried to lighten the mood, to bring some semblance of normalcy back into the situation.

“I never realized we lived like slobs,” you joked, your voice laced with a mix of humor and uncertainty.

There was a brief pause, then Spencer chuckled, a sound that warmed you from the inside out. “You’re just now figuring that out?” he teased back, his voice closer now, as if he had moved toward you.

You could almost picture the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he smiled, the way his lips would quirk up in that way that always made you feel like everything was going to be okay. The sound of him straightening things up, trying to make the space as comfortable as possible for you, was both endearing and bittersweet.

“It’s not too bad,” Spencer continued, his tone softening. “Just a couple of things out of place. But I’ve got it covered.”

You nodded, the smile lingering on your face.

The first week back home had been a challenge. While you had managed to stay somewhat optimistic during your time in the hospital and through the intensive therapy sessions, reality had begun to settle in now that you were back in familiar surroundings. Learning to navigate with a cane, relying on your other senses, and coming to terms with the fact that this was your new normal had been difficult, but you’d handled it—at least outwardly.

In the hospital, there had been structure, routine, and the constant presence of medical staff ready to offer encouragement or assistance at a moment’s notice. But now, in the quiet of your own home, that structure had dissolved, leaving you alone with your thoughts, with nothing but the unfamiliarity of your familiar environment.

The first few days had been bearable. You found some comfort in knowing that Spencer was there, that he was trying his best to be supportive and patient. He would guide you around the house, making sure you were safe, his voice always calm and steady. But as the week wore on, something inside you began to shift.

At first, it was just a dull ache in your chest, a sense of sadness that would wash over you in waves when you accidentally knocked something over or missed a step while trying to navigate from one room to another. But as the days dragged on, that sadness began to fester, morphing into something darker, more volatile.

You tried to stay positive, to remind yourself that you were strong, that you could adapt to this. But every time you reached for something and missed, every time you stumbled or misjudged the distance to a piece of furniture, the frustration built. It gnawed at you, making you short-tempered and irritable.

You found yourself snapping at Spencer over the smallest things—like when he tried to help you find a cup and you insisted you could do it yourself, only to realize you couldn’t. Or when he offered to make you breakfast and you lashed out, accusing him of treating you like you were helpless. He never snapped back, just took it in stride with an understanding that only fueled your guilt and frustration.

And then there was the anger—pure, unfiltered rage that simmered just beneath the surface. Anger at the job that had taken your sight. Anger at the world for being so unforgiving. Anger at yourself for not being able to accept this new reality as easily as you wanted to. You could see bright lights and shadows, sure, but they were a constant reminder of what you had lost.

One evening, as you sat on the couch with Spencer beside you, the weight of it all became too much. You could feel the anger bubbling up, threatening to spill over. You clenched your fists, trying to keep it at bay, but it was no use.

“Why did this happen to me?” you burst out, your voice trembling with the force of your emotions. “Why did I have to lose my sight? I was just doing my job, and now… now I can’t even walk around my own house without bumping into things!”

Spencer looked at you, his expression pained. He reached out, but you pulled away, not wanting to be comforted, not wanting to feel the softness of his touch when all you felt inside was jagged, sharp-edged anger.

“It’s not fair,” you continued, your voice breaking. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to live like this.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and stinging, but you couldn’t tell if they were from the anger, the frustration, or the deep sadness that had taken root in your heart. Spencer didn’t say anything, just sat there with you in the silence, his presence a steady anchor even as you felt yourself drifting into a sea of emotions you couldn’t control.

And as the week wore on, that anger became harder and harder to contain. It would flare up at the smallest provocations, leaving you feeling exhausted and hollow afterward. You knew Spencer was trying to be patient, that he was doing his best to help you through this, but in those moments of rage, you couldn’t see past your own pain.

You hated that you were pushing him away, that you were taking out your frustration on the one person who was always there for you. But the anger was all-consuming, leaving no room for rational thought or measured responses. It was like a storm inside you, one that you didn’t know how to weather.

And so, you kept struggling—struggling to adapt, struggling to keep the anger at bay, struggling to figure out how to live in this new world that felt so foreign and unforgiving.

You wake up to the sound of Spencer's steady breathing, the weight of the previous night's argument still heavy on your heart. He’s lying with his back to you, and even though you can't see him, you can sense the distance between you. It’s not just physical; it’s emotional too. The anger from last night lingers in the air, but so does the regret.

You know he’s sleeping like that to give you space. He’d offered to help with something simple, and you’d snapped, frustration bubbling over in a way you couldn’t control. You hated that you were doing this to him, to both of you. You didn’t want him to be the collateral damage of your struggle, but it was happening anyway.

Determined to make up for it, you decide to get up quietly and make breakfast. Maybe you can start the day differently, show him that you’re trying, even if it doesn’t always seem like it. Maybe if you show him that you’re trying, you’ll start to believe it yourself.

The house is eerily silent as you shuffle your way to the kitchen, relying on memory and touch to guide you. It’s still dark enough that the shadows blend into one another, but you’ve memorized the path by now. You reach out for the counter, fingertips brushing the cool surface as you orient yourself. The toaster is where you left it, so you reach for the bread, feeling for the familiar shape of the slices.

You focus on what you can do—something simple, something you’ve done countless times before. You pop the bread into the toaster and turn the knob, trying to estimate the time. It’s a small victory, but one that feels significant in this moment. You can do this. You can make toast.

As you wait, the smell of warming bread fills the air, and for a brief moment, it feels like everything might be okay. Maybe this is enough—a small gesture to show Spencer you’re still here, still trying to hold on.

But then the toast pops up, and as you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against the metal. The sudden, sharp pain makes you flinch, and you hiss in frustration, jerking your hand back. You’re immediately angry at yourself for making such a simple mistake, and for a split second, it feels like a confirmation of everything you’ve been trying to deny: that you’re helpless, that you can’t even make a simple breakfast without something going wrong.

But you don’t let the anger take over. You breathe through it, trying to remind yourself that accidents happen, that burning your hand on a toaster could have happened to anyone. Even if you could see, this could have happened. It’s not a sign of your failure; it’s just a moment, an accident, nothing more.

Still, the burn stings, both physically and emotionally, and as you stand there in the kitchen, you feel the weight of everything pressing down on you. The toast is done, but the small triumph you’d hoped for feels hollow now, overshadowed by the sting in your hand and the frustration bubbling up inside you.

You think about going back to bed, about lying down next to Spencer and pretending none of this ever happened, but you know that won’t fix anything. You’ve already put the effort in, and you can’t back down now. Even if it’s not perfect, even if it’s not what you wanted it to be, you’ll finish this. You’ll try.

You slowly make your way to the cabinet, grabbing a plate and placing the toast on it. You feel your way to the fridge, finding the butter and spreading it across the toast with practiced movements. It’s simple, but it’s something.

As you stand there, alone in the kitchen, you can’t help but feel the exhaustion creeping in. You’re tired—tired of struggling, tired of trying to make things work, tired of feeling like you’re fighting a losing battle. But giving up isn’t an option, not when Spencer’s still here, not when you know he’s trying too.

When you’re done, you just stand there, letting the weight of everything settle over you. You want to go back to bed, to curl up beside Spencer and hide from the world, but you know that’s not fair to either of you. You’ve come this far, and you won’t give up now, not yet.

Determined to push yourself, you decide to try making scrambled eggs. You remember the guidance from the nurse during therapy—the way she patiently walked you through the process, how she showed you to feel the eggs through the spoon to know when they’re ready. It’s not just about cooking; it’s about regaining some sense of normalcy, some control over your life. It’s a challenge you’re willing to take on, even if it’s daunting.

You carefully gather everything you need: a bowl, a whisk, a spoon, and the carton of eggs. You take a deep breath and reach for the first egg, concentrating as you tap it against the edge of the bowl. The crack sounds louder in the quiet kitchen, and you can feel the tension in your shoulders as you carefully pull the shell apart, letting the egg slide into the bowl. Relief washes over you as it lands safely, the familiar squish reassuring you that you’ve done it right.

Encouraged, you reach for the second egg, feeling more confident. You tap it against the bowl, feeling the crack form beneath your fingers. But this time, when you try to pull the shell apart, it’s slippery. The egg slips from your grasp, and before you can react, you feel the cold, slimy sensation running through your hand.

It’s the kind of mess that would have annoyed you before, but now it’s overwhelming. You freeze, the egg continuing its descent until it plops onto your foot, oozing between your bare toes. The sensation is startling, the cold yolk squishing against your skin, and it’s enough to shatter the fragile sense of control you were holding onto.

You stand there, feeling the egg seep between your toes, and you can’t help but feel a surge of frustration. This was supposed to be something simple, something to prove to yourself that you could still do this. But now, with the egg on your foot and the mess in your hand, it feels like a reminder of everything you’ve lost, everything that’s changed.

You want to cry, to scream, to let the frustration out in some way, but you don’t. Instead, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You reach for a paper towel, carefully wiping the egg off your foot, the sensation of the sticky yolk making you cringe.

You feel the burn of tears behind your eyes, but you blink them back. You won’t let this defeat you, not today. You clean up the mess, your movements slow and deliberate as you wipe the counter and the floor, focusing on each small task to keep the frustration at bay.

Once the mess is gone, you stand there for a moment, your breath coming in slow, shaky waves. You’ve cleaned it up, but the feeling of failure lingers. You were trying so hard, and it still wasn’t enough.

But you know you can’t give up. You won’t give up.

Taking another deep breath as you wash your hands, you grab a new egg and try again. This time, you manage to crack it without any issues, the egg sliding smoothly into the bowl. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to push you forward.

As you whisk the eggs, feeling the texture change beneath the utensil, you remind yourself that this is just one moment in a long process. It’s okay to struggle, to get frustrated, but you can’t let it stop you. You’ll keep trying, keep pushing, because that’s the only way forward.

You carefully reach for the pan, the cold metal sending a shiver through your fingers. You place it on the stove, your hand lingering on the handle as you mentally prepare yourself for the next step. Turning on the burner, you feel the heat begin to radiate from the stove, a warmth that should be comforting but instead fills you with anxiety. You’ve done this so many times before, but now it feels like a monumental task, the simplest of actions turned into an obstacle.

As the pan heats up, you reach for the butter, guiding it into the pan by feel alone. The sizzle is sharp and immediate, and you move quickly to pour the eggs into the pan, feeling the way the liquid begins to solidify under the heat. You pick up the spatula, gripping it tightly as you start to stir, trying to focus on the texture beneath the spoon. It’s a delicate process, one that requires both patience and attention, and you’re determined to get it right.

But then, in a moment of distraction, your hand grazes the edge of the pan. The burn is instant and sharp, a searing pain that makes you gasp. You pull back quickly, your other hand instinctively reaching for the injured one. But there’s no time to dwell on the pain, not when you’re in the middle of cooking. You shake your hand out, trying to push the pain to the back of your mind, and force yourself to keep going.

You return to the task at hand, stirring the eggs with renewed determination. But then it happens again—another misstep, another burn. This time it’s worse, the heat searing into your skin and bringing tears to your eyes. You grit your teeth, fighting the urge to throw the spatula down in frustration. The pain radiates through your hand, and you can feel the tears building, threatening to spill over.

Standing over the pan, you try to focus on the eggs, but it’s hard. You’re crying now, the tears mixing with the pain and frustration of it all. This was supposed to be something simple, something to prove to yourself that you could still do this. But instead, it’s turning into another reminder of how hard everything has become. You want to stop, to walk away, but you don’t. You can’t. You’re determined.

Taking a deep breath, you focus on the task in front of you. You stir the eggs one last time, feeling the way they’ve set, the texture just right. With shaky hands, you scrape them onto the plate, placing them carefully next to the toast. It’s a small victory, but it feels like a monumental one.

You freeze, the plate trembling slightly in your hands. You debate whether or not to serve a glass of juice or milk. The warmth of the eggs seeps through the ceramic, but it’s the heat of his gaze that you feel most intensely.

“How long have you been standing there?” you ask, your voice a little unsteady.

“Since you pulled the eggs out of the fridge,” Spencer replies softly. His voice is a mix of concern and admiration, the words tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, the weight of his presence settling over you. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or embarrassed that he’s seen you like this—struggling, vulnerable, determined to do something on your own but fighting every step of the way. You turn toward him, gripping the plate tightly as if it’s a lifeline.

“I wanted to make breakfast,” you say, the words coming out more defensive than you intended. "For you."

Taking a slow step toward you, he let out a soft, “Thank you.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to admit just how hard it was or to keep pretending you had it all under control. Though you can’t see him, you know how he’s looking at you, pure love and admiration.

“I almost gave up,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“But you didn’t,” he responds immediately, his tone firm. “You didn’t give up.”

You can’t tell if that makes you feel better or worse. The truth is, you did finish, but it came with tears and pain, and part of you wonders if it’s worth it.

Spencer’s hand reaches out instinctively, his fingers grazing the back of your hand, careful not to touch the tender spot. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he takes the plate from your hands and sets it down on the counter. You’re grateful for the relief, the pressure of holding it now gone.

“Let me see,” he says softly, taking your hand in his. He examines the burn with the same care and precision he uses when handling evidence, his thumb brushing over your skin with a soothing touch.

“It’s not too bad,” he reassures you, though his brow is furrowed in concern. “But I’ll get something for it.”

You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. Gratitude because he’s here, because he cares. Frustration because you wanted to do this yourself, to prove that you could. But now, standing in the kitchen with him tending to your burn, you realize that maybe you don’t have to do it all alone.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice catching in your throat.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You don’t have to do this by yourself,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

You nod again, the tears you’d been holding back now slipping free, but this time they’re not born of frustration or pain. They’re tears of relief, of love, of knowing that despite everything, you’re not alone. Spencer wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and you lean into him, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you.

As you stand there, you realize that this is the first step in moving forward—not just for you, but for both of you. It’s okay to struggle, to have moments of weakness, because in the end, you’ll always have each other. And that’s more than enough.

[nixie-writes]

Heblo! I is here to offer ideas!

How about a fic where reader is attacked badly while walking through the city, and when they return they fail miserably at hiding their injuries from Alastor? He helps patch them up, maybe hands them to someone else; but secretly he's super pissed that someone touched HIS plaything/friend.

Can be platonic or they're pining for each other- either one!

I made this platonic because we need more platonic Alastor

-you were strolling down the streets of Hell, carrying two bags of items Charlie needed for her first week celebration for Sir Pentious. If you were honest to yourself, you didn't like the guy one bit, even after having the chance to get to know him. He was a genius at inventing but he had the communicable skills of a toaster.

-following the GPS on your phone back to the Hotel you accidentally bumped into a shorter demon you hadn't noticed, being too engrossed in your phone. You profusely apologized to him and tried to make your way around him but he grabbed you by both wrists, making you drop your items and breaking the glass decorations.

-"ah, what the hell??" you demanded, trying to break free. The demon, a small loan shark, had an iron grip on your wrists and wasn't letting go. He moved both wrists to one hand, which was somehow big enough to hold both your wrists, and with his free hand he drew out a knife, hastily jabbing it in your stomach and running away. Blood spewed from your new wound, covering your freed hands and your bags. Leaving them where they were you stumbled back to the hotel to patch yourself up.

-right as you entered the hotel Alastor manifested near you, his Cheshire grin bright as always. "I smelled blood, I thought you brought me someone to eat," he chuckled. He hadn't noticed your injuries. Good. You didn't want him to make a big fuss over your stab wound.

-swallowing the blood rising in your throat you shook your head. "I'm afraid not, tall dark and creepy. I lost the groceries and I need to shower up before heading out to get more," you explained in a hurry as you tried to heave yourself to the staircase. Alastor placed a hand on your shoulder before you could make a movie however, gently removing your hands, revealing your fresh stab wound. His eye twitched, smile wavering slightly.

-"who did this to you?" he inquired as he summoned a first aid kit and laid you down on the floor. You looked away from him as he gently lifted your shirt to examine the wound. "Just some short stack loan shark. I bumped into him by accident and his response was to bruise my wrists and stab me before running off." You weren't sure why at the moment but Alastor took a good, long sniff of your wrist, as though committing it to memory.

-"stay still, this will sting," he warned as he pressed a towel doused in rubbing alcohol against your wound. You instinctively hid your mouth under your hand, grunting in pain. As soon as it happened it was over, and Alastor was applying gauze to the wound and pressing some bandages around the edge to keep it in place. "There, go find Willow and she'll do a better job than I did," he helped you to your knees and watched you waddle off to the small nurse's station.

-In a brief moment of solitude Alastor's smile faltered. He considered you to be his only friend in this joke of a Hotel. You had known each other for a long time and while he found it silly that you supported Charlie's idea, he appreciated your breath of fresh air. He clutched his cane in one hand, the other balling into a fist. Before anyone else could see him he left the hotel with a certain goal in mind.

[belladonazeppole]

The Other Side

(This takes inspiration by @adyophene "The Greatest Showcat" art, part 2 is coming soon!! The Other Side and Rewrite the Stars are such royalflush songs.)

Let's begin, shall we?

'Right here, right now I put the offer out.' Maybe it was the booze, 'I don't wanna chase you down I know you see it, you run with me and I can cut you free.' But even if it was, what he was saying is true, Lucifer wanted to see Husk free and would help him.

'Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in so trade that typical for something colorful.' Even he could see that Husk grump and uncaring behaviour was a mask, well some of it, but that the demon cat was more than that.

And Lucifer wanted to help him to show it.

So he would take the leap.

'And if it's crazy, live a little crazy you can play it sensible, a king of conventional or you can risk it all and see.' Yes it was insane and a silly idea but for the stars he desire that everybody could see Husk as he does.

In a bold move Lucifer holds Husk hands, 'Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride.' He knew that Husk was more than just a drunk and Alastor companion maybe if people see him as he did Husk.

A true showman.

He let go of his hands in summons his cane. He would do this right, 'It'll take you to the other side! Cause you can do like you do or you can do like me stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key.'

He make him free again.

He opens his wings and jumps, 'Oh, damn, suddenly you're free to fly! It'll take you to the other side." He offers his hand, waiting for Husk.

Lucifer smiles when Husk took it.

And then gets confused when he pulled him down.

'Okay, my friend, you want to cut me in well, I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen.' Husk say as kindly as he could. He can see what the king was trying to do and he apreciates he truly does but he can't let this go beyond an idea. He just can't, 'So thanks, but no I think I'm good to go cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in.'

He doesn't.

He hates his life.

The chains.

The fakes smiles.

All that fucking bullshit.

But Husk doesn't want to involve Lucifer in his mess.

'Now I admire you, and that whole show you do you're onto something, really it's something but I live among the wanes, and we don't pick up apples.' He sounded like an asshole and ungrateful for refusing such offer but if that could destroy that fantasy so beat.

Even if it make hating himself even more.

'I'll have to leave that up to you.' He has to break it. 'Don't you know that I'm okay with this downtown part I get to play, cause I got what I need and I don't want to take the ride." He would keep playing as Alastor pet since he belong to the radio demon.

But god, he can't see Lucifer, 'I don't need to see the other side so go and do like you do I'm good to do like me ain't in a cage, so I don't need to take the key.' He wasn't in a cage but chains were the key didn't exist.

Since he would never let him go.

'Oh, damn, can't you see I'm doing fine. I don't need to see the other side' Since the only side that existed for Husk was under him.

He needs to leave, he was ready to run away from the king.

But the king wouldn't let him go so easy.

Lucifer crossed his arms and looked at Husk, 'Now is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and loneliness and gambles.' He knew that Husk was trying to get him to forget about the idea but the king won't let him.

He wouldn't give up without a fight.

Neither does Husk.

'If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the city. Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns.' The sinner bitterly said at the king, he felt tired of refusing the possibility of happiness.

Even if he had to do low blows and hurt Lucifer in process.

It hurt that Husk said that. Lucifer knew how his inaction hurt the family reputation, 'But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little just let me give you the freedom to dream and it'll wake you up and cure your aching.' But he won't give up and let him pushing him away.

He watch it how Husk was started to leave, he needs to said something soon, 'Take your walls and start 'em breaking now that's a deal that seems worth taking but I guess I'll leave that up to you.' He make his offer hoping that Husk accept it.

Lucifer would make this gamble and make it highroller.

'Well, it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly.' Fine he would entertain him, 'So what percentage of the show would I be taking?'

At smirk forms in the king face, 'Well, fair enough, you'd want a piece of all the action I'd give you seven, we could shake and make it happen.' He was joking of course, Lucifer would give him everything to his friend but a little banter never hurt anyone.

'I wasn't born this morning, eighteen would be just fine.' The sinner said with a smile, he was an gambler after all, and you can only win if the stakes gets higher.

'Why not just go ahead and ask for nickels on the dime?'

'Thirthy.' Husk wanted more, he started to walk closer to the king.

'I'd do twenty.' Please ask me for more the king mentally beg.

'Forty.' He was getting closer to what he desire.

'Maybe thirty.' I'll give you everything.

'Fifty.' His ultimate fantasy. An equal partnership. Husk waited for Lucifer finally laugh at his face.

But it never came.

He just smirks and Husk just knew that he accept his "offer."

In that moment something click in their minds and the both fly in joy, 'Don't you wanna get away to a whole new part you're gonna play.' In that moment Husk just let his body and mind going allow with the fallen angel, 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride to the other side.'

'So if you do like I do.' Lucifer said while making some ducks made of light appear, 'So if you do like me.' Husk in retaliation pulls his hat and a little Lucifer puppet comes out.

The king smiles at the trick which make Husk smile in return and If the king wanted to see his magic he would show him one hella of a show.

Just for him.

And maybe himself.

They were flying like idiots, making magic tricks and laughing of said tricks, 'Forget the cage, cause we know how to make the key.' But it didn't matter since in that single moment Husk was free again.

He wasn't chained to him.

Him won't run this fantasy.

This moment was his.

'Oh, damn, suddenly we're free to fly we're going to the other side.' For a moment they were free of everything, from expectetion and the chains it was just the two of them.

They felt peace.

'So if you do like I do'

In synch with eachother.

'So if you do like me.'

Their spark once again was ignate.

'Cause if we do we're going to the other side.'

They were unstopable in that moment.

They were the winners.

'We're going to the other side.'