#<1000 words

[screwsfall0ut]

Tim Drake Befriends a Bee Minific

When Tim was young and very lonely, he befriended a bumblebee. 

Back then, he was curious in a way that teased wonder on every rusted fire escape. At 9 years old, even Gotham’s grimiest streets sparkled under the right light and perfect Summer days were for adventure, not dread. 

It had been one of those perfect days - balmy, sunny, fresh, and crisp - when Tim almost stepped on a bee. He paused, one leg raised, light up sneakers still flashing, and hopped to the side. 

He carefully picked it up. The poor thing didn't have wings. It was so delicate. Its tiny legs tickled Tim's palms.

Tim was stricken with fear that it would die on the hot pavement, alone and scared. It needed to be protected. It needed a chance.

An eyedropper of sugar water and 30 minutes later, the bee was moving - crawling all over the table and, eventually, over Tim's hands. He brought the bee out into the garden, letting it examine the roses, the lavender, the yarrow.

Tim couldn’t leave it out there, defenseless, with no one to watch over it, to make sure it wasn't eaten or crushed or lonely. 

He named the bee Sisko, after his favorite Star Trek character, and because it was an onomatopoeia of the strange buzzing sound Sisko would make while traveling up and down Tim’s arms.

Day after day, Sisko and Tim would make new sugar water, then go explore every flower and bush and stone on the Drake property. Sisko’s favorites were the yellow roses, which had bloomed brighter and taller than anything else that season. Sisko would always crawl back to Tim’s hands in the end, or his arms, sometimes even up Tim's neck and into his bushy hair to keep Tim company while heating up chicken nuggets or peeling open protein bars or chowing down cold pizza. 

At night, Sisko slept in the ratty, soft stomach of Tim’s favorite stuffed animal, a bunny his Mom had given him when he was too young to remember. Tim moved the stuffy from his bed to his dresser (he was nervous about rolling onto Sisko in his sleep) and every night checked that Sisko was safe and sound before turning out the lights. 

They were friends - best friends. 

With Sisko, Tim lost the urge to wander off in Gotham proper for batwatching. Instead, he’d re-learned every step of Drake property, fell in love again with the flowers and trails, the old, old trees, and the pond out near the property line. 

Tim knew Sisko was on borrowed time (of course he did) but against all logic, Tim was certain that Sisko wasn’t any normal bumblebee. How could he be? Not when he’d chosen Tim, not when they'd made a home together. Anyway, why should it be so ridiculous to think that Sisko might be a witch's familiar or a companion like Jiminy Cricket. Magic was real, and there were stranger things on Gotham's streets every day.

Tim started to believe, actually believe, that one day he and Sisko might slip into Narnia or Wonderland or Middle Earth. Every day was an adventure.

Eventually the cold began to creep back, hardening the ground, taking the flowers, and turning the leaves. It was a chilly Sunday afternoon when Sisko crawled into Tim’s palm, fell asleep, and never woke up again. No matter how much Tim begged and begged and begged.  

He'd died so quietly. So unceremoniously. Tim wasn't ready. It wasn't fair.

Sisko was just a bee, and Tim was just a boy, and there were no magic wardrobes waiting for them.

Tim buried Sisko under the yellow rose bush, long gone spindly and brown. He cried so much that he'd thrown up in the dirt. 

Later that week, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. For the first time since June, Tim pulled out his black clothes and his camera bag to watch Batman and Robin save the day. 

The click click of his camera shutter, the smoggy sky, the sweet rot smell of the dumpsters: that was familiar. Tim was a shadow again. He could lose himself: in the dark, in the night. 

Tim tucked his bunny stuffy into the back of his closet. He stopped waiting for magic to find him, at least, not the kind you'd read about in storybooks. Magic may have been real, but it was for people like Robin, people who swung from rooftops and laughed loud and made the world brighter. It was never meant for someone like Tim.

[chridys-scribbles]

The Grand Cycle

The planet was fractured across the screen, reams of data streaming across its surface as the prey's strengths were identified and estimated. Fifth Era satellites surrounded the planet like an atmospheric layer of metal and data.

It was a nice enough planet, Admiral Karrion mused, scarred by time, pollution, and aggressive inhabitants, but relatively pristine compared to many of the other worlds he'd seen. It lacked the gaping wounds and twisted anomalies that appeared after every Grand Cycle, so it was a novelty for the experienced warrior.

"What do they call it?" Karrion's First Hand, Se'Akar asked, "Earth?"

"Yes, Earth. A wonderfully quaint name, it reminds me of home," Karrion said, almost wistfully.

Se'Akar grunted in agreement. "Far easier to pronounce than the last few prey planets," se added, checking ser dataslate. "We are nearing assault range, shall I inform the Emissary?"

"No need, First Hand, for I am here."

The Emissary glided into the room, chin held high as they glanced around the bridge. Not so long ago, everyone there would have thrown themselves to the floor at the Emissary's entrance, but now they merely saluted. Some didn't even do that. Karrion winced inwardly at the realisation of how close the end of their Grand Cycle was. This conquest would have to be fast - a last blaze of glory for the Emissaries of the Yawning One before the fleet became literally ablaze.

The Emissary waited for a moment, before smoothly shifting their attention to the screen, their implants whirring gently as they processed the information. They were young and inexperienced at hiding their emotions, demonstrated amply by the war raging across their skin as calm, pale hues battled with frustrated purples to dominate their stripes’ colouration.

"Our calculations are correct?" The Emissary asked, their fingers flexing through the motions of the High Kata as if preparing for a fight, yellow hues now jittering across their skin.

"I believe so, Emissary," Karrion said, "they invented flying machines a little over a hundred of their years ago, split the atom less than half a century later, and landed on their satellite moon another twenty years later."

"That's slow, but it's not unusual for such species to have slower Grand Cycles."

"Indeed, Emissary. Their solar cycle is over twice as long as ours and," Karrion glanced at her dataslate, "their lifespans triple our own. Not to mention that this appears to be their first Grand Cycle."

"Ah yes, the progress we make on the bones of our forebears," the Emissary said quietly.

Karrion winced at the butchered proverb. "It appears that their Grand Cycle is slower than ours by an order of magnitude, which should put them towards the end of the Fifth Era if they haven't completed the Cycle already. Judging by the lack of telltale scars and their population size, our estimate appears to be accurate."

The Emissary was quiet, their biological eye twitching slightly as their biomechanical eye moved crazily, peering at a hidden world. Purples and yellows still battled across their skin in stark contrast to Karrion's confident greens. "Are we certain they have a Grand Cycle?" They said eventually, slowly. "We don't want a repeat of the Hordanthus Collapse."

Crewmembers glanced at the Emissary as fear leaked into their words. Karrion could see the thoughts on their minds as similar ones had forced their way into his. Why was this supposed leader of their empire so openly afraid?

With an effort, she pushed the dangerous thoughts away and focussed on her dataslate.

"We are certain, Emissary," Karrion said.

"How are you so certain, Admiral? We know so little about this prey, but we know that?"

Karrion bristled and responded icily. "We are certain because they surpassed the exponentiality threshold that separates Cyclical and Linear civilisations. Their exponential advancements have driven them from taking their first flight to entering space in less than a century, a rate only seen in Cyclical races." He paused for a moment and adjusted his tone. "Respectfully, would you like me to continue, Emissary?"

The bridge was silent as everyone looked at the Emissary, waiting for their reaction to this disrespect. Their stripes flared yellow, but their face remained frozen with a vapid smile.

"No, no, that's quite enough Admiral," the Emissary said with a forced airy politeness. "You have laid my concerns to rest, I merely asked after spotting some irregularities. I ask that you forgive my pressing of the matter. As you say, they are a Fifth Era civilisation and we have defeated many such civilisations before, this will not be our last."

"Uh, Admiral?" Se'Akar said.

"Yes, First Hand?"

"I noticed those irregularities too..."

"Come now First Hand, the Admiral has put forth a strong case and we cannot hold back this conquest based on nerves," the Emissary said, waving a hand dismissively as yellow hues creeped onto their skin again. "No, we are the Radel Empire! Emissaries of the Yawning Maw and Speakers of the Holy Word! We are at the zenith of our Grand Cycle and that puny planet could no longer withstand us than grains of sand withstand the pull of the tide. Now let us go and crush their pitiful resistance and claim the planet as our own!"

Karrion had to admit that she had heard better speeches and better-speaking Emissaries, but it gave her something to work with at least. She stood up and saluted, with most of the crew following suit.

"So you proclaim, so it will be done. Se'Akar! Signal the fleet to prepare for battle, we will conquer this world before even half a solar cycle has passed!"

The bridge erupted into activity as the invasion began, and in all the bustle, no-one noticed the yellow tinge on their Admiral’s stripes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inspired by spite after seeing half a dozen similar prompts in the same day in the "humans are weird, fuck yeah!" genre. This one isn't too bad, but I figured that exponential advancement wouldn't be all that unusual for species advanced enough for interstellar travel.

[in-a-spring-way]

Confession

“Rody.” Vince looked almost sick, and he breathed out the name like it was heavy. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol he’d been drinking, eyes unfocused. The image of it made Rody on edge, but he pushed the feeling away as best he could.

Sitting next to him on that uncomfortable couch, he tried to catch his gaze. “Vince?” He didn’t move. Something tightened in his core as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I need to—“ The words halted in Vince’s throat when Rody put a hand to his forehead to check if he was ill, and he pulled away. “Rody—“

When he didn’t continue—seemingly not knowing how—Rody prompted him again, “Yeah?”

For a long moment, he stayed silent. Long enough that Rody opened his mouth to speak again. Then, “I’m sorry.” It sounded like he’d had to rip the apology out of his own mouth, like he was wrestling with himself. Rody’s stomach only tightened further, spreading to his chest. It felt like a deep, almost suffocating dread, but he didn’t understand why. He almost wanted to ignore the situation altogether, laugh it off as nothing. He knew he couldn’t.

“For what?” Vince’s eyes slipped closed, and Rody noticed how his hands trembled in his lap. Quieter, he asked, “For what, Vince?”

After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he just shook his head; lips pressed into a flat line, he looked at Rody again. “I understand it now.”

“Understand what?” Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he continued, “You’re freaking me out…”

“You loved her.”

In an instant, Rody froze. Nausea overtook his head; Vince sounded gutted. Still, he breathed out, “What?” When there was no response, he pressed on despite how his body screamed at him to stop: “What are you sorry for, Vince?”

With another shake of his head, Vince’s eyebrows pulled together in a way he’d never seen. Sadness looked unnatural on his face—especially this tense, frozen misery.

Rody rasped, almost too quiet to hear, “What happened to Manon?”

“I’m sorry, Rody,” was the whispered response.

He stood, suddenly feeling too restless and on edge to sit or stay near him. “Stop saying that.” After Vince just helplessly shrugged, shoulders far too stiff, Rody started to pace. His voice rose. “What happened to her?”

For a long moment, Vince was frozen still, face growing paler than usual. Once Rody tried to ask again, though, he moved, standing and rushing out towards the kitchen.

Rody followed, calling out, “Hey!” Vince only made it a little farther, though, before he had to duck over the garbage can and vomit. Standing feet away, Rody nearly wanted to join him, his entire body tensing even further. His breaths quickened as he rasped out, “Jesus.” Staring at Vince’s heaving back, he was torn between wanting to know exactly what the hell was going on, and wanting to run as far away from him as possible and stay ignorant. But his feet stayed stuck in place.

Between wet coughs, Vince hastily sucked in air, apparently panicking as much as Rody was. Whatever this was, it was bad, it was really fucking bad, and that feeling set in more and more with each second that they stood there until it became unbearable.

The fear fueled Rody’s sharp words as they pierced through the air, shaky fists clenched at his sides so he wouldn’t grab Vince like he wanted to; “What the fuck did you do to her?” When he only slumped over the trash can more, resting his forehead against it, Rody’s entire body started to tremble. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone.” His voice was barely audible, but the words might as well have been yelled. And for a long moment, the only sounds that followed were their equally uneven breaths. The room seemed to spin around the tunnel vision focus that Rody had fixed on him, and somewhere deep in his chest, he knew it. He’d felt it in every missed phone call, in every unreadable glance Vince had given him. Muffled in his ringing ears, Rody heard him admit, “She’s dead.”

If his legs weren’t too unsteady to carry him forward, and his heart wasn’t weighing him down and holding him in place, he would’ve grabbed him. He wanted to. It would’ve been easier to fly into a rage and attack Vince and not have to think about anything but hurting him back. Instead, a million thoughts and emotions clouded his head until they turned into white noise and brought him to the ground. Vaguely, he felt warm trails run down his face, but a thick layer of something heavy covered his senses; it took a moment for him to register them as tears. They streamed from his blank, blurred eyes, face otherwise unmoving. The seconds passed like years.

Then, everything rushed back into him at once, too loud and too vivid, and he screamed all of the air out of his tight lungs.

[nought-shall-go-ill]

Jily Microfic — May Prompt 2: Mourning

This @jilymicrofics piece is a continuation of this piece here, but can also be read on its own.

May 1976

At only 16 years old, Lily Evans had already done a lot of mourning for such a short life. She’d mourned her lovely nana — a tiny, wizened Welshwoman with a mop of red hair like hers — for almost half a decade. Her mother for two years that April. And as the war waged on, she found herself mourning more and more the faceless muggles and muggleborns unfairly swept up in its changing winds.

But she’d never mourned a friendship before. It made it all the more strange that this friendship wasn’t even over yet.

But it would be soon, wouldn’t it? If it weren’t Severus’ friends and their unforgivable actions that tore them apart, then what she’d done with Potter last weekend certainly would. Severus would never forgive her, and she wasn’t even sure she’d want to be forgiven. She certainly didn’t forgive him. Not after everything he’d said and hadn’t done.

But her heart still froze every time she saw James. Her mind racing. Was now the moment he chose to reveal what happened between them?

The fact that no one seemed to be wise to it — not even Sirius Black! — made it all the more terrifying. What was he planning? Was he going to ruin it?

“Evans,” Potter called after her that Friday afternoon before Potions. “Can I talk to you? In private, maybe?”

This was it. Her world officially ruined.

He led her to an empty classroom near the laboratories. She sat facing him atop a desk, the position all to familiar to the last time they’d been alone together.

“I—,” he began, pulling a hand through his hair. “How have you been?”

“Fine, thanks,” she replied as coolly as she was able.

“Yeah, well, that’s good. Um—” He paused, and she pondered for a short moment why his voice seemed so much deeper than usual. “Listen. About last weekend.”

“What about it?”

She flicked her own dark red hair back, pleased with her composure, despite the nerves tingling within her palms. James gaped, dumbfounded.

“Well, you know, we…”

Lily took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Look. I don’t know what you have planned, but if you’re going to go and rant about it to the whole school, can you just get it over and done with?”

“What?” he interrupted, deep voice all but abandoned. “I— I’m not planning to do that!”

“Really?” Lily raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Really. I— well, that was kind of private, wasn’t it? I don’t think you got blabbing about stuff like that.”

Lily blinked, a bit taken aback by the answer. She felt exactly that way too, of course — that these sorts of affairs should be dealt with in private, amongst only those who were involved; she’d just never expected arrogant, self-absorbed James Potter to feel the same.

Or perhaps he felt embarrassed about her? He’d snogged — more than snogged really, if she were being honest — swotty Lily Evans when he was close to black-out drunk. It probably wouldn’t be much for the image of a pureblood quidditch star.

Somehow this thought made her feel even worse.

“Right…” she said after a moment. “So, we won’t mention this to anyone?”

“No. Not a soul. You have my word.”

He smiled shyly at her, a rare image, his eyelashes fluttering just slightly.

“Great. Well, thanks, Potter.” She pushed on the desk to hoist herself off, desperate to be anywhere but there.

“Wait.” James held his hand out, looking for a moment like he might hold her shoulder, but evidently changing his mind at the last minute. “I have something for you.

“What?” she queried, perhaps a little more harsh than intended.

“I remember you said you were looking for harebells for your Potion’s project the other day.”

“Yes, I am, but they’re not in bloom on the grounds yet, so….”

“Well,” he said, picking out a small potted plant from the large inner pocket of his robes. “My mum grows them, so…”

He held it out to her.

“Here.”

“I— why?”

He shrugged.

“Why not? I just remembered, is all.” He put another hand through his already messy hair. “Do keep it though. Can’t really send it back.”

“Oh… ok. Thanks, Potter.”

“You’re welcome, Evans. I hope it helps!”

And with that he spun on his heal and headed out the door to their next class.

Lily sat there for a moment admiring the plant — its dainty purple petals reminded her of the fairies from her children’s books — until she realised it was the longest she’d gone without mourning Severus in quite some time.

It was something. Perhaps a sign that this too shall pass. If only it hadn’t stopped.

[saph-writes]

Snippet of a WIP I'm working on!

It's a long one, so this is just from the first chapter. First meetings are always so fun to write :) Anyways the title is "Places We Won't Walk" and for any updates or posts relating to it, the tag is #p3w universe . It's going to be a while before I publish it since I want to have the outline fully finished and first 5 chapters fully written before releasing the first chapter.

But I will be posting quite a few excerpts from the WIP and some side stories before then (not spoilery ofc).

Stay tune~

[chridys-scribbles]

Ok, so I misread this and flipped the roles accidentally and only just noticed, but I liked how it turned out so here it is anyway.

CW: kidnapping

"What was that?" The voice said, sharp as a whipcrack.

"What was what?" I asked, resting a hand on the back of a chair as I tried to recover.

"I thought I heard…" It was the first time I'd ever heard them uncertain, maybe even afraid? "Nevermind, you know what to do, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, miserably.

"Oh cheer up," the voice snarled, "it's just some billionaire and his friends who will get hurt, I thought you wanted to get rid of billionaires?"

Not when it was just going to make other rich people even richer. "Of course I do, you're-" I bit my tongue. "They don’t deserve their blood money!"

For a terrifying moment, there was silence. The chair creaked under my grip, metal twisting and warping. Then, the line crackled.

"I will let that slide, this time, but don't expect me to be so generous next time." They were never generous, they merely hid the price until it was too late. "So then, you'd best get busy with your plotting and preparations and whatever it is you villains do."

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Oh, come now, let's hear it."

"It," I gritted my teeth and spat, "it's Rockin' Roller time."

The voice sighed. "I do hope you perform better on the day and put some spirit into it. But it will do for now, I suppose."

They hung up.

"Yeah well…" My shoulders sagged. Weakly, I hung up.

+++

"Ha ha!" I bellowed, "You're too late, Silver Sword! Once I pull that lever, this billionaire and his sycophants will-"

"Hey, RR," she said, quietly, "you don't have to do this."

I glanced down at my hostages. "Of course I do!" I cackled, but it died quickly at the look on her face. "Um. They're billionaires, they don't deserve to keep their wealth or their lives!"

"We're agreed on the first part," she said with some of her familiar wryness. Her face softened again. "I think I know you well enough to believe we have the same feelings about the second part."

She wasn't wrong, but where was her bravado? Her quips? Her enthusiasm? Our battles were almost fun and a real test of skills and power, but this was different. She seemed to care for me and was being kind. Why?

Did she know?

I shivered. I needed to make sure they didn't notice.

"I never took you for such an anarchist! That should make this next part easy then!" I think I sounded convincing and I managed to inject some swagger into my step as I walked over to a large lever. My hostages started yelling again, their muffled shouts stabbing my heart.

"Wait!"

"No use appealing to my humanity," I began, but she wasn’t paying attention as she listened to something in her ear. "Hey! I thought we were bantering! Why aren't you playing along?"

"Are you sure?" She said to the air. "Understood." She let out a shaky breath and looked at me with a soft smile.

"What- what's going on? What are you planning?"

"It's okay, Yusuf, it's all going to be okay. Can you contact the rest of the Wild Alliance and the Terrible Trio? There's some people waiting for you all back at the Academy." Tears sprang to my eyes. "They’re looking forward to seeing you," she added gently.

"My Maria? My..." I choked back a sob as she nodded. "But how? Why?"

"We heard you on the phone, and you're a supervillain but you don’t deserve that." Her eyes darkened and she snarled with shocking anger, "they don’t deserve that."

There came a muffled yell from below and I glanced down, surprised. I'd forgotten about the hostages.

"Oh shush," Silver Sword said, "I'll let someone know you're here and you and your guests can get back to your golden yachts soon enough. Come on RR, let's go."

She floated up into the air and I let her pick me up to carry me back to the Academy for the last time.

You, the Supervillain, have just discovered that the heroes that you fight everyday aren’t doing this of their own free will. It suddenly makes sense as to why you could never find their families.

[pinimi]

Armand orchestrated Madeleine’s death because she so easily outcunted him. Absolutely no effort just laughed him in the face at his questions “yeah I can live and be mentally stable for eternity. what, like it’s hard?” she said skill issue if you can’t handle killing as a vampire. Every night Armand has seven different existential crisis and Madeleine sleeps soundly without a shred of guilt WHILE ALSO looking dead drop gorgeous and being funnier than everyone around her. Armand had to take her out early. He never stood a chance

[yuumei-art]

Smoking cigarettes is bad for your health. Smoking green paint made of arsenic is worse~

More shenanigans involving Dante, a character from my wip illustrated novel about 19th century artists. Back then, most paints are made of highly toxic ingredients such as lead, mercury, and arsenic (for the the infamous color: Paris Green).

[mydrarryarchive]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: something akin to a microfic Summary:

After years of chasing after Malfoy, he’s gotten used to looking for flashes of silver.

-

A little microfic(ish) giving a few glimpses into Harry and Draco's relationship.

[firelilysky]

Zukka Week Day Five: Zuko Joins the Gaang Early | Gay/Bi Awakening

[mmelolabelle]

➡️incorrect star wars

[that-bitch-kat3]

regulus: why did you take him away from me?

james: take him away? regulus he would’ve died in that house. you know that.

regulus: no he wouldn’t have, i was trying to protect him! i would’ve protected him-

james: i couldn’t let him get any more hurt. he’s my brother, when he gets hurt i have to be there-

regulus: he was my brother first.

[chridys-scribbles]

Goodbye Old Girl

Program after program, file after file, they all disintegrate into the ether. It's a cleansing, a purge of data no longer needed. The fans whir loudly, the old machine struggling without its ever-present companion to guide cool air into its vents.

Games that I loved, games that I tried, and games I never played vanish one by one from the screen. Programs for work and for play disappear soon after. My leg starts to burn and I shift the laptop so that only the edge rests on that leg, still hot but more tolerable.

Lists of apps, files, and folders fill the screen and minutes turn into an hour, then two, as I meticulously migrate files to the internet or delete them by the handful and by the bucket load. I idly scrape at crumbs of christmas chocolate that had made their own migration in my bag and were now stuck to the warm aluminium casing.

I delve through dozens of folders and see mysterious and esoteric files that few ever look at. Empty folders of uninstalled programs and games get deleted and google tells me which of the other folders are surprise guests invited by my chosen installations, and which ones are still required for the old workhorse.

It's quieter now, although it’s still hot, but the dust-clogged fans are not needed as much by a processor running fewer processes than it has in years.

The final cleaning begins as I remove my accounts from browsers and from Steam, the only programs that I have installed that will remain, and some of the longest-serving applications running on the system. A final run of a cleaner and the recycle bin is empty.

I look at my desktop, empty and forlorn, and the sensation echoes within me. On a whim, I create a new file, "treat her well.txt". At first it is a joke and I smile at my foolishness, but this machine has been by my side for the better part of a decade.

It was with me as a confused and sad man, running the games I escaped into and providing a window to a warm world in a job I didn’t know was hurting me. It was my portal to my family and friends through lockdown and transitioning, holding open hundreds of tabs full of information and inspiration. And now, it has returned to running games for a much happier woman.

It's just a laptop. She's just my laptop, with my name stored deep in its system. Around the south of England and to a rock in the middle of the Irish Sea, she's travelled hundreds of miles in her lifetime and her heavy weight is a familiar one on my back. But now she must journey onward without me, to a friend who needs her more than I.

It's silly. It's foolish. But I am silly, and foolish, and above all sentimental. So I write my last words to her.

"Goodbye old girl, you've done me proud."

And then I give her my final request.

Shut down.

Yes. "Please."

[yas-of-pacifico]

Congratulations fiddlestan fans!!!

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨

IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3

Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao

Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...

Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v

Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.

But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.

He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.

You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.

You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.

"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.

"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.

One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.

“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.

“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.

“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.

“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.

Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.

“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.

“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”

Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”

Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.

"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.

"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."

"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.

"Good boy."

You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.

The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.

"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.

"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.

You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.

Or did you?

While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?

"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"

"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"

You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.

You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.

You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."

Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."

Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.

The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.

Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.

“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.

“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.

He was beautiful.

He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.

"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.

"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.

"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"

You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.

"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"

Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.

"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."

"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."

~~~~

Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘

Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

[saph-writes]

Another P3W WIP~ This one is a Reo one-shot, separate from the main story.

Ah hurt/comfort, one of my favorite tropes :,)

Though, Chigiri isn't very good at comfort lmao. Reo is really going through it huh. Matches up with the latest episode what a funny coincidence-

Also dw, Nagi has his own side of the story, I just need to write it first. He's not a complete jerk I swear, Reo just thinks he is.