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meldingintheunderdark · 9 months ago

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Halsin's ending is not a beautiful, pain free dream

I don't know if this opinion is unpopular because my return to tumblr is so recent, but hear me out. I will not speak about Tavs since I don't ever play them. My post will be solely focused on Halsin solo romanced by the Dark Urge, i.e. Sszazar who fought tooth and nail for redemption.

Rationally, I understand that some players are satisfied with his ending, yet I find it soul crushing all the same. It's the perfect example, nay, the quintessence of Halsin's problems. A messy knot of unaddressed traumas, of questionable decisions, the embodiment of his perpetual fuite en avant (rushing ahead to avoid something, to repeat actions that led to a first crisis).

His project is a clear attempt to fulfill needs forever denied: to have a family of his own, a community where he's at long last free from the shackles of leadership, or even to follow his own path as a druid, away from the suffocating traditions of the Emerald Enclave. A commendable project, but too ambitious for one man.

Indeed, Halsin's plan is his and his alone. Although he spoke of his desire to have a family or to help the unfortunate children, the PC is not directly involved in preparing the commune. They are kept in the dark until Halsin is ready to leave without them.

Halsin single-handedly shoulders the planning and the responsabilities that the future settlement entails. Needless to say, for centuries now, he has favored a paradoxical approach of avoidance and obsessive behavior combined with extreme guilt trip to deal with his own troubles, even distorting traumas to make them palatable. In my opinion, his solitary preparation is the expression of said approach.

They won. Faerûn is saved. The shadow curse is no more. It could be the ideal time to slow down, to assess the extent of damage after such a nerve-racking adventure. Yet Halsin is already rushing into another long lasting project involving countless settlers, among them nine whole wagons of children. He's restless. Instead of turning inward to acknowledge his shortcomings, to simply heal, he barrels along at full speed, continuing his never-ending cycle of avoidance. What about his failings as the archdruid of the Emerald Grove? A group of haggard tieflings and his absence were sufficient to let hate and cruelty fester amongst his druids. How did he fail to notice the rampant corruption? Were the Shadow Druids manipulating his people under his nose? Why did he welcome the refugees, exhausted and traumatized, only to abandon them because Aradin was going to the shattered sanctum?

Halsin must do everything alone. He welcomes the tieflings. He leaves with Aradin because he must deal with the shadow curse. Survivor guilt. If it's about himself, his most vulnerable side, then Halsin oft deals in absolutes.

Ironically, he cannot save Thaniel and his realm on his own. Although far-fetched, I personally interpret Halsin's personal questline as his reflection.

Halsin's questline is his reflection

He's obsessed with the shadow curse, without a true confident for a good century, and neglects his druids and the tieflings he decided to shelter. Out of the blue, he chooses mercenaries to support him in his irrepressible, compulsive endeavor. Unfortunately, wrong team, they fail. He is then caged like a rabid animal, at the mercy of goblins who don't communicate with him at all. There is nobody to listen to him, to his worries, to his needs. He's once again alone, like he had been with the drow captors.

The PC gives him his freedom back when no one else would, thus he faces his main fixation obsessively with this newfound support. And yet... Who listens to him? Who finds Art Cullagh? Who finds the lute? Who finds Oliver? Who kills Ketheric? The PC.

He goes to the Shadowfell to find Thaniel, alone, protected by his allies. He wants that light, that friendship, that support. (The portal with a warm, comforting glow attacked by shadows, the fact he can die if the portal is destroyed while he's seeking Thaniel… The portal could be a representation of Halsin, of the positive changes he yearns for, but he cannot progress as he's attacked by doubts, old pains, traumas.) He comes back with Thaniel, split in half. Thaniel and Oliver are reunited by the PC who, if the right options are selected, encourages Halsin to soothe Oliver.

During the last push to chase the shadows, if he's in the team to vanquish Ketheric, he's supported and led by the PC.

I know my interpretation is highly disputable, nevertheless, his questline is so him. That positive side, Thaniel, hollow. The darkness, Oliver, deeply lost and lonely, surrounded with shades that are his pseudo friends. Thaniel and Oliver are stronger together, however the curse is still overwhelming. The PC carries Halsin all the way till the shadow curse is lifted.

And the very last cutscene is all about Halsin and the PC watching nature blooming once again. Hope for a better, brighter future.

Halsin: I don't deserve you, my friend.

Halsin needs support. Don't get me wrong, he's a capable adult. He can take care of himself. Yet the glaive (though it was in EA) ended in a lone, secluded vault. Out of sight, out of mind. Halsin has been alone for so many years that he craves the support of his trusted equal to progress. It doesn't make him weaker or less of an adult. It's merely a lot less wearing to be helped by someone who reciprocates care happily and willingly.

The consequences for the commune and the orphans

All that scarcely credible yapping about his questline to say that Halsin tends to shoulder responsabilities alone, too many, far too many, with little to no self-empathy. That, without proper support, he tends to fail and hurt himself, to repeat situations which have already wounded him in the past (cf. my post about the drow twins). So, what does it mean for the commune?

I assume he will fail to nurture an environment without a vertical organizational structure at first. The hierarchy won't be similar to the Grove's, however he will become the de facto leader because he cannot for the life of him acknowledge his deepest, most painful shortcomings. Case in point:

Halsin: All these months, and I haven't been away from what we built together. There's a whole community out in Thaniel's realm that has never known a day without our presence. Halsin: Being away from it... I cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence.

He will surround himself with like-minded people, nevertheless, we must not ignore the fact he's an archdruid, a 350 years old elf as he loves to repeat, and one of the saviors of Baldur's Gate. His experience, his fame and his tendency to burden himself are a recipe for disaster. Six months after the Elder Brain's defeat, the commune depends heavily on him. He fled leadership, only to become a leader again.

Halsin: At last count, there were nine whole wagons of children in tow. They are my duty now. 'Daddy Halsin', they call me. Who am I to tell them otherwise?

The Daddy Halsin has been "memed" to death. From my point of view, it's jarring. When Halsin reveals his plan, he barely mentions adults and doesn't associate them with the kids. His statement is crystal clear. The nine wagons of children are his duty. He's their caregiver, their new father figure. Not one parent, or one guardian among many, but the one they call Daddy. From his point of view, the concept of family seems to be eminently traditional.

Halsin: I just hope the children get by without me there for their bedtime stories...

Ultimately, the orphans will be neglected temporarily because Halsin cannot provide the necessary parenting, the emotional support nor the individual time any child deserves on his own. Furthermore, these children are extremely vulnerable. Abandoned, parents and siblings killed by the Absolute forces, who knows? It may last a week, but Halsin needs to realize first that he cannot be their only Daddy, otherwise he will hurt them. Not out of malice, not on purpose, just because he's deeply entrenched in his views and his longings.

The Dark Urge

Halsin is overly positive about the refugees wishing "to praise the savior of Baldur's Gate", adding that "quite a few little fans will be overjoyed to make your acquaintance". I won't ever believe that every single settler will be in awe of The Dark Urge, a war criminal, a murderer and a former Bhaalspawn. I can't imagine no one would demand revenge, swift and brutal justice, that nobody would directly conflate Sszazar and the destruction of their home, the death of their friends, their lovers, their families. That everyone will be levelheaded, willing to forgive and forget, or downright clueless about his identity. Not everybody will be magnanimous like Alfira. Would Halsin choose to lie by omission or be truthful about his lover's bloody past? A commune built on such a massive lie won't withstand the revelation of this ugly secret.

Henceforth, people who suffered because of the cult will be exposed, day after day, to the sole surviving Absolute mastermind. The cause of their plight is their next-door neighbor. At first, it will surely go beyond petty disagreements. Some may leave and never return. Halsin's reputation may be tarnished since he loves and shelters a war criminal. He sold them his dream without the Dark Urge because he was persuaded to be unworthy of commitment and love.

All in all, I don't think his dream will crash and burn, but I believe the canon scenario forces the happy ending devoid of nuances upon the player. Truth be told, I imagine the commune will go through a rough patch, especially if the Dark Urge is present. I won't even talk about the logistical side of the commune. Tending the crops, buying tools, managing resources, so many details... With luck, Thaniel is a real powerhouse and can heal his realm in the blink of an eye. I doubt it.

Halsin's ending is, as depicted in game, a beautiful nightmare.

[09/15/24 - edited for clarity, grammar and to highlight that I hc Halsin's failures as temporary]

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #Halsin Silverbough #bg3 meta

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notablenotions · 29 days ago

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Letter from Lady Jitka Capon to Sir Radzig Kobyla

Dearest Ziggy,

You warned me not to marry the limp prizzle that is my husband, Hans Capon, but frankly, I had no say in that unfortunate deal of uncles. You are well aware of what they promised in exchange for my “conformity.” As if I’ve ever conformed to anything without strategic benefit.

Anyway, my Dollies sent me the report about said limp prizzle and your brooding boy and figured a husband more interested in his guard is useful. Honestly, Ziggy, how you and Anna managed to hide Henry is a wonder. He scowls like you—particularly when shouting at recruits. It took me right back to the time I lay siege to your pantry for the last lemon tart. He had the same look you did when you caught me with the crumbs and the silver fork still in hand.

I’m most unfortunate to now possess the full report of Hanush’s Prague privy incident—a thing that haunts my dreams with troubling clarity. I’m only grateful I could share the burden of this knowledge with you. I hope it doesn’t make your proximity to either cabbages or Hanush intolerable. Personally, I can no longer look at either without concern.

Still, it served well during the Great Goose Incident. Your son and my husband—unleashed fresh idiocy upon the streets of Rattay. I salvaged what I could. The people still cheered, which proves they’re either loyal or deeply unwell.

As for Henry... I’ve not told him yet. About us. About you. I can’t bring myself to. To explain your care of me, I’d have to speak of Papa, and I’m not ready. It feels like betrayal, somehow—both to him and to the girl I was. I’m not certain what they’ll think of him, or of me, and I’d rather remain the villain in their story a while longer.

I’ve enclosed some lemon cakes for you. They’re slightly dry. Blame Bart.

Yes, Bart. He’s here. I’ve hired him permanently out of the allowance Hans gives me. I haven’t told Hans. When he finds out, it will be glorious.

Love,

Jitka Capon

P.S. Do tell me if the goose survived. I feel it deserves a title or pension.

---

Reply from Sir Radzig Kobyla to Lady Jitka Capon

Kitty,

I told you not to marry him because I assumed you still valued your dignity and your temper. But knowing your uncles, I imagine they would’ve bartered your hand to an ox if it had enough coin and a clean lineage. At least the ox wouldn’t play a lute poorly.

Yes, Henry scowls like me. He also broods like me. He does not, however, steal lemon tarts or weaponize pastry forks. That, my dear, remains your legacy.

Thank you for the nightmares regarding Hanush and the cabbage. I hadn’t realized I could feel embarrassed on someone else’s behalf and still be complicit in using it for political blackmail. I’ll be sure to remind him at the next council meeting. Loudly.

As for your reluctance to tell Henry—do as you must. I have no right to demand that of you, or him. Henrys your family as much as mine now, and you have more right to protect your memory of your papa than I do to unravel it.

The lemon cakes were indeed dry. You should have kept Bart in the stables.

Which reminds me—Hans came whining to me that “the beast who smells of horses and sarcasm” was now living in your west wing. I assumed he meant Bart. If not, I’m sending guards.

Tell your Dollies to keep me informed next time you host a goose-themed uprising. I’d hate to miss it.

Yours,

Ziggy

P.S. If the goose is knighted before Hans, I’ll die a satisfied man.

#kcd #kingdom come deliverance 2 #hans capon #henry of skalitz #hansry #fanfic #kingdom come deliverance #radzig kobyla #Masks of Noblity

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jukkaricity · 4 months ago

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Companion banter with Alectris - Lace Harding edition

Alectris and Harding get along like a house on fire, despite their backgrounds and upbringing being as different as they could get.

Alectris: Did I get it right? You worked for the Inquisition?

Harding: Yes! I’ve done a lot of scouting for them, seen most of Southern Thedas.

A: You have to tell me all about it.

*depending on Inquisitor’s race*

(qunari) A: Is it true that the Inquisitor was a Qunari spy?

(elf) A: I heard that the Inquisitor was Dalish and could shape shift!

(human) A: Someone said that the Inquisitor was actually a Tevene Dreamer?

(dwarf) A: The Ambassadoria said that the Inquisitor came from a forgotten Thaig!

H: What!? No!

***

Harding: You’re with the Shadow Dragons, right? Like Neve?

Alectris: Somewhat, yes. Have you met Lorelei, the front? My shop does something similar.

H: Your shop?

A: My family has owned the place for a few generations. Don’t get hung up on that.

***

Alectris: Lace? Is it true that you only have surface dwarves in Ferelden?

Harding: What do you mean? If a dwarf sees the sky it makes them lose their caste, so they come up and live on the surface. How else could it be in Ferelden?

A: Well, the dwarven embassy is carved deep into the ground beneath Minrathous, some of the emissaries never leave the deepest chambers.

H: You’re kidding? I thought that Tevinter only respects humans?

A: I guess the desperate need of lyrium puts things into perspective.

***

Harding: Do you ever get tangled up between your sword and the magic?

Alectris: I’m sorry?

H: I mean, do you sometimes mix your moves up? Throw your sword instead of a fireball?

A: *laughs* Doesn’t really happen anymore. But you should have seen me flailing when I started.

A: You’re dealing with this new magic thing way better than I did.

***

Harding: Have I heard some lute from the armory?

Alectris: I… No, surely not. Maybe someone playing in the kitchen?

H: I might have believed you if I wasn’t there at the time.

H: Sounded really good too!

***

Alectris: So… is It true that magister Dorian Pavus was part of the Inquisiton?

Harding: Yes! He was part of Inquisitor's inner circle! Traveled with the team nearly everywhere!

A: *laughs* I cannot believe this. Dorian Pavus, his fancy clothes and even fancier mustache in the Ferelden wilderness.

A: What would I pay to have seen it.

***

Harding: Alectris! When did you learn inquisition songs?

A: Some of them I knew before, just had no idea where they came from.

A: A few others I had to ask around for.

H: That’s amazing! Oh, we could have a singing evening instead of the book club!

H: Do you have a favourite song?

A: Oh, yes. I like that song about a certain Inquisition scout.

H: What? No!

***

A: Scout Lace Harding…

H: Yes?

A: Swift and cunning…

H: Stop it! It’s embarrassing! A: Her arrows cut you down to size H: If you don’t stop I might as well!

***

H: Do you know how to dance?

A: Yes. And whatever your next question is, no.

H: I didn’t even say anything!

A: I know. But no, I’d give my leg to a dracolisk before I agree to anything.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #da veilguard #fake banter #oc: alectris mercar #scout lace harding #lace harding #dragon age harding #scout harding #datv #dav #veilguard #jukkari writes: da stuff

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its-time-to-write · 5 months ago

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chapter 7

y’all I am SO SORRY this is so late. I’ve been caught up with end-of-year stuff at work and planning for next year. but I’m posting the last two chapters now🙃

I’m not sure how active I’ll be moving forward lol, 2025 is shaping up to be a pretty big year for me, professionally speaking, and that either means I’ll have more free time or less. Idk. But thank you for supporting my writing!!! You guys make me happy🩵🩵🩵

table of contents

found god at your ex’s house

To be entirely honest, the longest and only conversation you’ve ever had with goddamn Keeley Jones was at the Prada show right before you found out about Bean’s existence.

You’d prefer to keep it that way but fucking Madeline is friends with her so now you’re headed to a stupid, awful, horrible girls’ night at her house and you’d rather fucking die.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But your experiences concerning Keeley have been unpleasant at best.

She first caught your notice in a tabloid on a yacht with Jamie and a screaming headline to match your screaming mind. It was two weeks after Jamie came over for the last time and apparently not enough time to get over him.

You’d gone straight to Madeline’s to scream into a pillow.

Then she was in your instagram, and when you had blocked her she appeared in fan edits and fucking WAG accounts. Then she was at the Prada show and in magazines and on the telly. It felt like no matter how much you tried to shut her out, Keeley fucking Jones remained as a painful reminder.

It wasn’t her fault per se, but you hated the role she played in Jamie’s deterioration.

And now Madeline is fucking friends with her.

“What the actual hell, Madeline,” you groan. “Keeley fucking Jones? Are you serious? She’s the fucking worst. AND she’s not to be trusted! The girl hardly has two braincells to rub together.”

Madeline rolls her eyes. “I understand that you hate her. But she’s kind and sweet and actually a bit brilliant. I’m not going to tell her about you or Bean, but she’s not some vile, boyfriend-stealing bitch.”

“I’m not saying that,” you reply as you try to get Clare to burp. “I’m just saying that the girl could stand to grow up a little.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She has. I think you’d like her.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff right as Clare burps. “See? Clare agrees.”

Madeline shrugs. “Clare is three months old. She doesn’t get a vote.”

You wrinkle your nose and say, “You mean unless she agrees with you, right?” and Madeline smiles her most angelic smile.

“All I’m saying is you’re more than welcome to come with me tonight.”

“I’d rather die,” you inform her.

—

Jamie has the day off. They won against Aston Villa on Sunday so he’s supposed to be resting, but he’s never been very good at that.

So he does what any self-respecting person would do and goes to his ex’s house.

He forgets Roy fucking Kent is going to be there until the man himself has opened the door but Jamie musters up some arrogance and breezes right by him. Keeley knows he’s coming anyway, so he’s not going to be harassed by some grumpy old twat.

Roy must be sick or something because he doesn’t say anything. If Jamie weren’t so consumed with his own worries he might actually be concerned.

But he’s not so he sits on Keeley’s couch like he belongs there and lets her hand him a cup of tea before she sits down next to him.

Roy isn’t far off, pretending to read a book but Jamie is abso-fucking-lutely positive he hasn’t turned a single page yet.

But absolutely FUCK it because he needs Keeley’s professional, girl opinion.

“I’ve got a kid,” he says, and both Keeley and Roy do absolutely horrible jobs at pretending they’re shocked.

“Fuck off, how the fuck did you know?” he protests. “Was it Ted?”

Roy and Keeley exchange a Look and it just makes Jamie madder.

“Technically it was Coach Beard,” Keeley says in a mousy voice. “We figured you’d tell us when you were ready, Jamie.”

That’s just confusing. “How the fuck did Beard know?” he asks.

“Kid looks just fucking like you,” Roy says and that makes Jamie mad too because when the fuck did Roy see Clare?

“I saw them on the green when I was with Phoebe,” Roy clarifies and Jamie takes a minute to file that away as Roy Kent’s first-ever non-swearing sentence.

He says, “fucking hell,” because really, fucking hell. He went from not knowing he had a baby to knowing to apparently the whole Richmond coaching staff knowing (and apparently meeting) her.

Keeley asks, “Is that why you’re here, babes?” and her gentle voice actually makes him want to fucking cry so he just nods and puts his head in his hands.

“Don’t know shit about being a dad,” he says, voice muffled, and Roy slams his book shut because apparently he has shit to say.

“Fuck off, Tartt,” he says. “Stop being a little bitch.”

Keeley exclaims, “Roy!” but she’s also curious about what he has to say because she doesn’t do anything else to stop him.

“I fucking mean it,” he continues. “You fucking come here expecting to fucking cry on the couch and be told you’re fucking shit at something and throw a fucking pity party, so fuck off. You might be a shit father, you don’t fucking know, but that girl doesn’t fucking think so and if I were her, I’d hate your fucking guts. So untwist your fucking pants and stop being a fucking whiny little bitch. Go fucking be a dad and if you’re shit, you’re shit. But stop looking for fucking sympathy for something you’ve made up in your stupid fucking twat brain.”

With that he pushes himself out of his chair, swears at his knee, and disappears into the kitchen, presumably to remain silent for the next year since he’s met his word quota.

Jamie looks at Keeley as if to say, Are you hearing this prick? but Keeley just lifts a shoulder and says, “He’s right, babe. You’ve got to actually go do something about it.”

So Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose and recounts everything his mum told him over the phone for some extra review.

—

Clare is easy, as far as babies go, but for some reason tonight she’s decided to be an absolute terror. She won’t eat, won’t go to sleep, won’t calm down. She just cries and cries and no matter how many times you check her temperature or her diaper, she cannot get it back together.

It doesn’t help that you’re tired, either. Like, newborn-level tired. And hungry, too. You’d order in but Clare hasn’t even allowed that so you open the fridge as best you can while bouncing Clare up and down. All you can see is a jar of gherkins, a can of soda, and some lemons.

And a fucking banana which must be Madeline’s because you’d rather die of starvation than eat that shit.

Fucking hell.

I am not going to cry you tell yourself sternly, except that doesn’t do anything except allow tears to well up faster than if you’d just let it alone.

You can’t call Madeline because she’s at Keeley’s and you’ll be damned if you interrupt her girls’ night. Madeline didn’t sign up to be tied down and she deserves a non-parent friend, so she’s not an option.

For a split second, you debate calling Jamie. But that’s a level of desperation you haven’t quite reached. You close the fridge and are saved from deciding what to do next by a knock on the door.

Clare wails like she’s being murdered, so you hope it isn’t the police but it isn’t, it’s just Jamie with a bag of groceries. He’s in the house setting up in the kitchen before your brain catches up with your eyes and Clare just cries the whole time.

You know exactly what he’s making before he’s even pulled out half the ingredients. It’s chicken pesto risotto, the dish you always begged him to make whenever he had a moment of free time. Jamie can cook maybe four things in total, but damn he can cook them well. He slices some bread, puts it on a plate with some butter and hands it to you, swapping the plate for Clare so easily that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’s been doing it his whole life. She stops crying the moment she’s in his arms and honestly, you’re too tired to worry about it. You crash on the couch and fall asleep after two bites.

It’s dark out when you wake up, but the lights are on in the house and it’s warm. Someone’s gently caressing the top of your head and saying your name, so you open your eyes to Jamie standing over you.

He’s looking at you with a soft expression, and your heart aches. It all feels too painfully normal.

He says, “Food’s ready,” and holds out a hand for you to grab.

You hesitate for the barest fraction of a moment before taking it. “Little Bean’s asleep in her bed,” he continues. “You hungry? Figured we could eat then you can go back to sleep.”

You nod. “Smells good, J. Are you planning on spending the night, then?”

Jamie shrugs. “I thought- I don’t know, I thought maybe you could use a break.”

He sits next to you at the table. The food’s been set out, and it’s still warm. It’s also the first meal you haven’t been responsible for in a good long while.

“So you’re just here now,” you say. “You’re the kind of person who shows up, cooks dinner, puts the baby to bed and watches telly in the evenings? You could barely handle a relationship, and now you want a fucking family? You can leave me all you want, but I swear to God, Jamie, I will murder you if you hurt Clare.”

It’s frustrating because it feels like you’re at an impasse. Jamie can come back once he’s shown he’s changed, but he can’t really show he’s changed if he can’t fucking come back, can he?

It doesn’t matter that he probably has changed and you know deep down that even he isn’t a big enough dick to abandon his daughter.

Jamie says, “I am. I mean, I won’t. I mean, fucking hell, you don’t have to fucking murder me, yeah? Just give me a chance, like.”

You snort. “Do you even know how to change a diaper?”

Jamie says, “Googled it, didn’t I?” and that makes you genuinely laugh. Of course he did. But you laugh too loud and it wakes up Clare, who lets you know she’s irritated with a shriek. You knock your head lightly against the table and whisper, “Fuck,” before putting down your fork. You push your chair out and Jamie stands, lightning-fast.

“I got it,” he tells you, and you raise an eyebrow.

You reply, “Okay,” because if he’s going to act like a father, he’s going to have to put in the work. And you’re hungry and this is your favorite meal. Besides, what’s the worst that’s going to happen?

So Jamie goes to Clare’s room where she’s sobbing like there’s no tomorrow and you continue to eat while straining your ears to make sure Jamie isn’t panicking.

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for the fact that the worst thing that could happen is Jamie comes back out after ten minutes with a sleeping Clare on his chest and he looks so fucking hot that you want to jump his bones then and there.

Jamie is thankfully oblivious. He sits back down and pats Clare on the back so she doesn’t wake up again.

“How’s the food?” he whispers. “Haven’t cooked in fuckin’ ages.”

“Good,” you whisper back and then you lapse into silence.

“I can stay the night, if you want,” Jamie offers after a bit, and you glare.

“Not like that,” he hastily amends, “I mean if you want to sleep. I can feed Clare and whatever.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Jamie. What the fuck do you want from me? You can’t fucking come back here and play house when you want, and I get it, your dad’s a piece of shit and you don’t want to be like him. But you’re in the fucking Prem, Jamie.”

(“Got relegated,”) he mouths, but you just keep talking. “Fine. You’re in the Championship but everyone knows you at least are making it back to the Premier League and someday you’ll be with a team in the Champion’s League and that’s a lot of travel. It’s a lot of nights alone, and you’re not exactly the kind of person who likes sleeping alone.

Jamie looks offended at that, but it’s true. He’s twenty-six and in his prime.

This whole thing is just one giant circle with no solution.

“Oi,” he says, and he’s got his serious expression on. “I don’t want anything from you. I want you. Not even because of Clare, but she’s mint. I was coming to find you the other night because I wanted to fix things. I told you that. I meant it, I want to get back together. I know I’m hard to love sometimes but swear down, I want to make it work. Keeley’s on me about commitment and shit and I dunno, it sounds nice. I’m fucking tired of fucking around. That shit’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, because a baby and a girlfriend isn’t fucking exhausting as well.”

Jamie wrinkles his nose. “Fucking Garnacho’s having a kid. If that little shit can handle it, I can too.”

You concede. He has a point. “Fine. You can spend the night. I’m going to shower and then pass out, which means you’ve got the dishes and Clare. You can sleep in the guest room, yeah? I’ll set up the baby monitor.”

Jamie smiles, and before you can really think it through, you lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” you say softly before heading upstairs. You’re going to get an earful from Madeline later, but for now you’re going to get good sleep for the first night in a long while.

next chapter

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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baldval · 1 year ago

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idk if u like writing him so if u don’t feel free to ignore!! but picture this, adam with a higher up reader with high authority that kinda acts like beelzebub?? like adam sees them for the first time and expects them to be all wholesome and kind but she’s actually just a hardcore party gal! which kinda matches his frat boy persona too🌚 and maybe she even resembles bee a bit? UP TO U! i just love ur writing and thought of this

-🎞️ anon

ALTITUDE!₊˚⊹♡

characters: adam x gn!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, mentions of one night stands

A/N: i'm sorry if i failed you in the whole party-fun!reader aspect i just went on a different direction and when i realised i like this a bit too much. hope you like it too anon!!!!! 🫶

You weren’t ever too sure about Adam. He just seemed a bit problematic, loud, interruptive, and he never took things seriously. Not that you were the chillest person on heaven, quite the opposite, but still, there was something about Adam that threw you off. You felt like that was all a faced. You knew that, when he wanted to, he could be kind, and was actually very enthusiastic regarding his job at heaven. Not that he would ever knowingly admit it. So when Sera partnered you two for a, quite important job, you didn’t know what to expect, or how to feel. At first you thought he might try to run the shop by not letting you contribute any of your ideas. He thought you were a tightass that would try to make everything boring (exactly what he said to Lute).

However, both of you were surprised once time went on, and you got to know each-other better. He realised you were actually quite fun, he might even say careless. He found himself in shock, and partially offended, when he realised you actually hosted parties every few weeks. You found out that he was deeply misunderstood. And actually really cute and charming. And you also promised to invite him to your next party, once you had finished the long task Sera had appointed you.

"Adam? Will you read that to me again?" You sat cross legged on the carpeted floor of Adam’s basement, chewing on the end of your click pen. Adam was too busy trying (and failing) to get basketballs on a net at the top of his wall to notice you’d called out to him. Dropping the pencil down on your notebook, you let out a frustrated sigh, standing to get his attention.

"Adam!"

Startled, he stopped short, turning towards you with his eyes wide in surprise.

"Yeah? You alright?" He asked, putting down the basketball and appearing in front of you.

"Yes Adam, I just wanted to get this part done," you explained, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “Besides, why do I have to work? I would also love to be able to play with that fucking basketball." It wasn't that Adam didn't work, he just got distracted easily.

"Ha! As if you could play." You felt deeply offended even though you knew you did NOT know how to play basketball.

"Wow. Just wow. I thought you would've known about my years in the angel's basketball team. I used to be one of the bests." You lied, trying to defend your dignity.

"As if! I was on the angel's basketball team. Never saw you there." "It must've been waaaay before you got in. I've been here for longer, you know."

"Alright then, prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove you can play." He handed you the ball and you held it.

"I'm a bit rusty." You smiled at him as you saw him grin. He could see right through you and your lies, what he didn't figure out was that you could also see right through him. So instead of shooting towards the net, you hit Adam with the basketball right on top of his head. Watching it bounce on it only to later hit the floor.

"Ouch! What the fuck was that for?" he ran his hand through his hair.

"Get to work or I'll hit you again."

"Hey! That's toxic workplace behaviour, I'm gonna have to report you now." You groaned in annoyance. "What will it take for you to work on this with me for an hour? Do we have to make a deal?" You joke with a light chuckle. Adam jumped at the opportunity to compromise, knowing that he could work if he really wanted to, and that the deal would then be in his favour.

"A deal hey?" He asks, resting his chin in his hands, looking up at you with sparkling eyes.

"Yes, whatever you want for 1 hour of your precious time," you scoff, picking up your pen again to work. As a higher ranking angel, you knew better than to be stubborn. You didn't mind having to sacrifice a little something. Besides, the end was in sight, meaning you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer - however, you struggled to admit to yourself that it would actually make you sad not hanging out with Adam as much as you were right now, worrying you would go back to the stranger treatment you had with each other before.

"I’m not gonna tell you until the hour is up," Adam teases, retrieving a book full of sinners' names for your work from the couch and opening it to a dog-eared page.

"Okay read it again for me, and this time slowly," you emphasise on the word “slowly”, watching him let out a small laugh, shifting on the floor to get comfortable.

"Okay, ready?"

"Yes, Adam."

"Okay," Adam takes a deep breath before beginning, you’re skimming over your notes, making sure all of them make sense. Adam tries to memorise some of the names before you write them, wanting rather to watch you work than have his eyes glued to the book.

Adam rests his hands in his lap, noticing the way your lips part and your tongue juts out only slightly when you concentrate. He notices you fiddling with the edge of your notebook, your fingertips grazing the spiral as it winds to bound the book. He notices how effortlessly pretty you are, and how committed you’ve been to this assignment. He thought it was so funny that you were so oblivious to his blatant staring. He suddenly lets out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding in.

"Adam?" You ask, the same annoyance bubbling inside you from when he didn’t pay attention before.

"Right," Adam shakes his head from his thoughts and returns to reciting the book.

You hadn’t noticed you’d leaned slightly into Adam, your shoulders brushing. Adam suddenly feels warm, his shoulder tingling where you were touching him. His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he licked his lips, readying himself to read the next part.

He thought of how cunning his side of the deal was, and how much more tempting it got the longer you touched him. It was a gamble, but it was one he was willing to take.

Adam rested his hand on his thigh, inching his fingers closer to your joined knees.

You look up at him, finally noticing how close the two of you had gotten, but doing nothing about the close proximity. Something felt different, the air was harder to breathe, and your stomach felt like it was housed by a million butterflies. His eyes shun as they looked into yours, your faces inching closer and closer.

Adam finished reading and silence filled the room, accompanied by the small pants of your breathing, you pulled your body away, sitting up straighter and looking more alert.

"Good reading Adam," you let out a small cough to cover the awkwardness that had just washed over you. Fuck, you were so close to kissing him, and you didn’t know why. You scowled at yourself for being so cliche, and put down your notebook. Adam bit his lip in a smile as your cheeks blushed red because he knew you’d felt that too.

"Okay, deal time?"

You know you asked for an hour, but a break right now didn’t seem so bad.

"Okay," you say, as he scoots his bottom across the floor to face you.

"One kiss," he says finally, your jaw swinging open in shock. A kiss? Was he serious? Did you hear that right?

"A kiss?" You repeat, chuckling. At first you thought it was a prank - classic Adam. However, his face was dead serious, as serious as you had ever seen him. You hadn’t read that Adam felt anything for you, the same way you hid having a big fat crush on him by being sort of mean.

"Come on, you know you want to." He teases suddenly changing his behaviour and body language as he realised he had been perhaps a bit too vulnerable for his liking. But you has already seen him. You knew his true intentions when he asked that and you knew they matched what you wantes, so why weren't you kissing him?

Your lips form a tight straight line as you contemplate your choices. Give up the tough guy act now and cave to your feelings, or don’t. It was like Adam was giving you the perfect opportunity to do what you always thought of doing.

"Okay, only one," you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a curt nod.

“Of course, whatever the lady wants,” he sends a wink on your direction and you can't help blushing as you try to hide the redness with a laugh.

You lean forward, securing a small kiss on his cheek, almost too close to the corner of his mouth as it curled into a small smile. Your lips linger there for a moment, before you pull away, just slightly, your face still so close to Adam’s. You contemplate whether you should just go for it. But before you could decide what you wanted to do, Adam does it for you, connecting your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

It takes you aback, but you compose yourself quickly, cupping his cheeks in your hands, as his secure to your hips. He pulls you closer, until you’re practically in his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. His tongue prods at your lower lip, and without another thought, you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore where no one else has. The feeling was magical, and after all those nights you lay awake thinking of this moment, it finally came in full force.

You had to pull away with a gasp when Adam’s hand started to cup your bare ass under your shorts, your hands resting comfortably on his shoulders as you stared at each other.

"Fuck I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-"

"No! It’s fine, I just, I... I kinda like you? Adam... And I mean, I don't care if you want to just fuck or whatever. But... I guess I just don't want that." you let out a nervous laugh, wanting so badly to crawl into a hole and die from your confession. "It's not you! Well, I guess it is you? I don't mind one-night stands, I just..." Adam interrupts you by letting a small laugh, the back of his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"I get why you assumed that. I mean, I am THE Adam, THE original dick, why would I settle down?" You roll your eyes at his cockiness and his expression softens. "But I do like you. I like you just in the way that you said it, truly."

"Really?" You ask him, your voice only just louder than a whisper.

"Yeah! I mean- you’re so smart and pretty, and we’ve spent a lot of time together, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, wouldn't mind getting to know you better. The whole of you" he moves his hand towards your waist.

“I’ve felt the same way,” you reply, pulling Adam in for a hug, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you close, before you sit back down on the floor across from him.

“So… you think I’m pretty?” He asks, shooting you a cheeky wink. You roll your eyes again, letting out a small laugh.

#🎞️anon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #adam x you #cursed cat alastor #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin adam

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rat-cannibal · 1 year ago

Note

i have no idea if you write for adam, but here i am

i am the ultimate angst asker, if you're okay with that

adam or lute(ilovewomenbumpersticker) x reader who does in the extermination without them knowing.

- FEED ME A BONE,

carcass

aaaa thank you so much for the request!! i am a fellow lover of women, so I will do Lute at a later date. i wasnt too sure about what you meant by 'does in'. i did give you a sad ending though, so hopefully that makes up for it!

how would adam or lute react to the reader finding out about the exterminations? Part 1

- Adam -

you and adam started dating before he started the exterminations

you're an amazing person - kind, sweet, innocent, everything an angel should be. and also everything Adam isn't.

adam is already so insecure about anything that has to do with hell bc lucifer stole his wives (cue pussy eating hand gesture)

so he doesn't even mention it when he starts thinking about the exterminations

you're suspicious, obviously, because he's going off on so many meetings and is becoming more distant

but you dont say anything because you love adam, and he would never lie to you.. would he?

when adam finally gets his extermination team approved, he's overjoyed

he comes home and immediately kisses the shit out of you

You whine as he pulls away from you, your lips swollen and your face flushed. You try to catch your breath. "Not that I'm complaining, but, uh, what exactly was that about?"

Adam grins widely, squeezing your hands. "What, am I not allowed to kiss my beautiful partner hello?" You sense a hint of deceit in his voice, but choose not to question him about it.

you and adam always sleep in the same bed at nights. you have practically since you started dating.

so when one night he doesn't come home, alarm bells immediately go off in your head

is he cheating on you? maybe he found someone else, someone better

no, you reason, surely he's just held up at work

your suspicions only intensify when he returns the following morning, hair tousled and clothing ruffled

he looks exhausted, like he didn't get any sleep. usually this would indicate a long day at work, but theres a smile on his face that paperwork could never cause

dread grows in your stomach

he greets you happily, like nothing's wrong, and you play along, not wanting to fight with your boyfriend about something that could very well have been a misunderstanding

next year, though, when he disappears again and comes back looking thoroughly satisfied, your suspicions are confirmed.

adam is cheating on you.

you're a very conflict-averse person, so these yearly meetings go on for nearly two decades (time works different in heaven ok just roll with it. 1 year = a month to them basically)

eventually, though, you come home from a hard day of work and Adam isn't there.

that pushes you over the edge. you pack a bag and store it in the closet before going back to your room.

you would look for an apartment in the morning. for now, you just want to sleep.

you wake up and join adam in the kitchen for breakfast. he looks like he always does after these meetings - ruffled, yet satisfied.

"Adam," you say simply, "we need to talk."

"Uh-oh," teases Adam, "am I in trouble?"

"Where were you last night?"

Adam swallows thickly. "What?"

You glare at him. "Where were you last night?"

"I was busy with a work thing - you know how it is, babe, they work me to the bone. It's ridiculous."

"Why do you look so happy, then, so fulfilled?" You sigh. "Look, Adam, I know you're cheating on me. I've known for years now. I guess I just hoped you'd have the balls to admit it."

adam tries to frantically explain that he's not cheating on you, that he's been leading a yearly extermination

he would never cheat on you, he loves you

you demand to know what an extermination is, and he tells you in more detail than you ever would have wanted

you listen in silence as he describes the joy he gets from killing demons - from killing human souls

you retrieve your bag and leave your shared apartment for good

adam begs you to stay, says he'll change, that he'll do anything

but you can't be with a murderer

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #gn reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #angst #heavy angst #sad ending #no happy ending

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ladyravenblack · 11 months ago

Text

AdamXReader fic

Adam was the first man and you were determined to get in his good graces as a new winner. You had been nothing but a saint on earth, even avoided sins of the flesh, and you were certain it gave you a leg up. However he was always surrounded by those pesky angels in their imp like masks. It wasn’t very heavenly of them to be dressing so vulgar.

From the beginning of your arrival in heaven you have been throwing yourself at Adam’s feet, elegantly of course, you were always poised and never had a hair out of place. Something Adam should have been drawn to and yet he always had his eyes on that filthy little toy of his.

Other winners seemed less than fond of your dream man, but he was necessary to your success. Yes heaven was the ultimate goal, but a heaven spent with him? What more could you ever ask for? You deserve this after all your hard work on earth, this should be your prize.

Cornering one of the impish angels you insisted that they take you to Adam, but they just kept that bizarre smiling mask on and never said a word. Whatever, you would do what was needed to get to him. You discarded the angel and adorned her attire, making sure you appeared almost identical to the poor thing.

Meetings with Adam were held frequently and it was no issue attending in your disguise. No one questioned that you stood a little taller or that your hips seemed a bit wider, not even his main angel. You stood in silence, listening to his routine speech of how they would pummel the sinners in the extermination to come. A part of you felt ill, what did he mean? Then again, if Adam says it is necessary then surely it isn’t causing any real harm. And they are only sinners after all.

Afterwards you hunt him down, like a stalking lion about to capture its prey. It was almost too easy the way you slid up beside him and started to talk, ushering his side angel away. The man was pompous, it was clear to see why Lilith and Eve had left but surely under that facade of his was a gentle, caring man.

So you work it from him, constantly slithering into conversations and passing Lute out. He could do better than some fighter angel- he couldn’t possibly want someone who came home smelling like blood and death. No this was a man of great renown! Of power!

“Adam” you pur out his name, fingers making soft circles on the back of his hand, pulling his attention from Lute once again. Her glare is obvious, she’s jealous and that makes you oddly even happier to be winning. “I was thinking- dinner tonight? On the edge of the clouds?” Your voice is wispy, a soft hum to the chorus that always sounded.

He nodded sipping his drink and smashing fries in his mouth, a little uncouth but he is the first man after all, perhaps he just needs taught manners.

“Lute can come too” he speaks with his mouth full, your tight lipped smile straining at the edges as Lute giggles claiming she would love that. Her eyes are hot on your face, she’s clearly winning this part of the game and that is simply unacceptable.

“I was hoping it could be just us..?” You're forcing a soft, sensual tone in hopes of making him want more. Perhaps sin would entice the man to come to you, to be yours. It had Lilith and Eve so perhaps you’re simply using the wrong technique. His eyes shoot to yours, a giddy look in them.

“Yea yea that sounds great I know this private area” he speaks through a mouth full of food still, sipping his drink only to shove more food in his mouth. You have him excited now though, and Lute out of the mix. So what if you played into a certain sin? You already made it into heaven, they can’t kick you out right?

The meet up is coming closer and closer but time feels much slower. You clip on a pearl necklace and adjust your hair to be perfectly curled before sliding on a soft, knee length, white tea dress. The choice between nude pumps and white flats is a hard one but you decide as the clock ticks closer to the time to go that flats are best. Give him the impression of being much taller, don’t damage his manhood.

A knock at your door tells you he’s here, of course he hasn’t put on anything nice, he’s Adam. His reputation is nice enough. You link your arm with his as he texts nonstop, eyes seemingly glued to the small portable device in front of him. But, again, he’s the first man, he gets more leeway, he just needs to be taught.

You show him how to choose the right fork and how to lay the napkin proper while he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“You’re not my dad,” he says in annoyance. You nod, stepping away and letting him once again just shovel food down his throat while you politely smile and eat calmly. He simply isn’t used to this.

After dinner he insists on a private location. A spot all to yourselves with no interruption and you agree to a nice park with red roses, his eyes narrowing. You clearly weren’t understanding him despite his efforts to get you to.

You lead him through the gardens, his eyes occasionally straying towards a flower and lingering. Genuine smile stretching his face wide. You had succeeded in giving him a night to remember and it hadn’t even come down to a carnal sin! Once done with the garden he took your hand, willingly and gently he strokes your palm as you both walk towards the winners houses.

“I usually don’t spend a lot of time with others beyond Lute” he sighs out, staring up at the ever changing colorful clouds. You nod in understanding, knowing you’re succeeding in getting him away from her. His laugh fills the air, leaving a warm pit in your belly, a swell of pride in your chest. You had made the first man laugh!

“Yes well this can happen more often” you press him gently, anxious for an agreement as he begins to nod his head when his phone buzzes and the genuine smile seems to fade. He flips the phone open and sighs.

“You know, I think these should be an ordeal more often” he sounds thoughtful as he flips his phone shut, never responding to the message he had gotten. Contentment bubbles inside you as you both go separate ways for the night.

#hazbin hotel adam #fanfic #hazbin hotel #adam x reader

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pfaerie · 2 years ago

Text

actually i'm spinning medieval au in my mind sorry i'm kind of obsessed actually

imagine johnny used to be the prince and y'know, like, his father probably died like when johnny was still a toddler or whatever and the kingdom (and i imagine that laura married below her station and it's her family's land and has been for generations) just runs out of money by the time he's 12 and laura remarries because she wants to ensure johnny won't be destitute and will still have a home

and it's fine for a while except it isn't and johnny never warms up to sid at all and hates him. through some blackmail fuckery i feel like johnny is threatened by sid and has to make a deal to not claim his throne or wouldn't it be a shame if something were to happen to laura (and i'm sure johnny takes it because all he cares about is his mom and he doesn't want her to live through anymore hardship)

he throws himself into his knight training and little else - doesn't care much about his education or status as a diplomat. the cobras dote on him as a posse of knights who took an oath would - act almost exactly the same as they did in the movie the just jingle when they walk. i feel like kreese is knight captain and wants johnny to take back his place on the throne - he has his own motives (something something terry silver warring kingdom

i think daniel would be part of a troupe and just tours around the kingdom and does performances wherever before laura takes a liking to him? and she hires him as a court jester? maybe even ali lives in the castle and is, y'know, betrothed to johnny and susan is her lady in waiting and ALI hires daniel for her amusement (partly because he annoys johnny and she likes to tease him - in this au, i think johnny and ali are Courting, but it's mostly a display - johnny doesn't want her that way, but he's expected to and it's better to just go along with it bc that's his duty - maybe he even takes some comfort in the fact they never will marry because of Sid)

and anyways, daniel is frustrating and cute and johnny can't help but watch his fingers as he plays the lute or juggles and he wants to shove him around bc that's the only way he can touch him and eventually johnny stops threatening him and listens to daniel practice in the courtyard (perhaps he gifts daniel with a genuine compliment or daniel plays one of his favorite tunes and johnny says as much to him or DANIEL catches johnny humming one of the tunes he's only ever played privately and his heart almost thumps out of his chest when he realizes the prince has a soft side)

i also simply have a soft spot for medieval/middle ages aus where one of them likes a bit of poetry about gays - like it's all dressed up in metaphor and maybe it's tragic and stuff, but gay resonates with gay. johnny telling daniel one of his favorites is that and daniel maybe hasn't heard of it and johnny lends him the book ("you know how to read right?" "YES I KNOW HOW TO READ ASSHOLE") and daniel Gets It immediately

and yknow they start fucking each other and maybe even daniel's writer's block finally goes away and he can finish writing that song he only ever plays in private...

#medieval au #lawrusso #sorry to tag i don't wanna lose my ramblings here

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darcydarlingdabbles · 3 months ago

Text

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 10 - Beg Me

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

On my knees, I plead, I swear, Tell me, love, do you still care? Say you forgive, say it’s fine— Or punish me, love, for crossing the line.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The cool night air hit Alastor's flushed skin as he ushered the last of the giggling girls into their waiting Ubers.

Charlie and Vaggie, arms linked and still wearing their ‘bride’ sashes, stumbled slightly as they climbed into their own ride.

Alastor couldn't help but smile at their obvious joy, even as a pleasant buzz thrummed through his own veins.

"Thanks for everything, Al!" Charlie called out, her words slightly slurred. "Best bachelorette party ever!"

Alastor waved, his signature smile firmly in place. "My pleasure, dear. Get home safe now."

As the car pulled away, Alastor turned to find Anthony grinning at him. "Well, well, Mr. Demon. Still got it, don't you?"

"I suppose some skills never fade." Alastor chuckled, adjusting his glasses.

Emily, the last to depart, stumbled slightly as she approached her ride. Alastor steadied her with a gentle hand on her elbow.

"Easy there," he murmured, guiding her to the car door.

Emily giggled, her cheeks flushed with alcohol and excitement. "You know, Lucifer is so lucky to have you," she said, patting Alastor's arm.

"Thank you," he replied automatically, helping Emily into the backseat.

As Alastor closed the door, Lute's voice cut through the night air. "I'd be jealous if I saw my guy doing that with someone else."

The words hit Alastor like a splash of cold water. He froze, hand still on the car door handle, as a sudden wave of doubt washed over him.

Had he crossed a line? His stomach churned, the pleasant buzz of alcohol now feeling more like a sickening weight.

"You alright there, Al?" Anthony's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

Alastor straightened, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Perfectly fine, my dear."

As they settled into the ride they were sharing, Alastor's thoughts continued to churn.

He’d done demonstrations with Anthony before. Hell, he’d done far worse with others.

But…he hadn’t even considered how his partner would feel about the little performance.

The city lights blurred past the window, each flash feeling like an accusation. Alastor's fingers tapped an anxious rhythm on his knee.

“You’re a little wound up there, Smiles.” Anthony observed from his seat, surprisingly composed for how much they’d had to drink.

Though, they’d both always been rather good at holding their liquor.

Alastor let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "Just…pondering the complexities of relationships, I suppose."

"Oh? Care to share?" Anthony raised an eyebrow.

Alastor hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of his jacket. The city lights continued to flicker past, casting ever-changing shadows across his face.

Finally, he turned to Anthony, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Angel…when did you stop? The work we used to do, I mean. Before you met Husk?"

Anthony's eyes widened slightly, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other.

"Funny you should ask, Smiles. That's how I met Husky. He was a client, if ya can believe it."

“Is that…is that why you retired?”

Anthony let out a rich, warm laugh that filled the car.

"Nah. Husk knew exactly what I was when we met. He didn't try to change me or nothin'. But after a while…" He paused, a softer expression crossing his face. "After a while, I just wanted to be with him. Only him."

The car hit a pothole, jostling them both. Alastor used the moment to collect his thoughts, his mind racing.

"You haven't told Lucifer, have ya?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.

“I don’t know how.” Alastor shook his head, unable to meet Anthony's gaze. “I haven’t…dated anyone, actually, before. And I don’t think I could handle it if…if it changed the way he saw me.”

Anthony reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Alastor's arm.

"Hey, look at me, Al." When Alastor finally met his eyes, Anthony continued, his voice gentle but firm. "It's gonna be fine. Lucifer loves you, ya know? And if he's half the guy you say he is, he'll understand."

Alastor let out a shaky breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"Trust me, Al," Anthony replied with a wink. " The truth always comes out, eventually. Better it comes from you, yeah?"

As the car pulled up to Anthony's building, Alastor felt a weight lift from his chest. He still had doubts, fears that gnawed at the edges of his mind, but Anthony's words had given him hope.

Alastor needed to make this right. Tonight.

As the Morningstar mansion came into view, Alastor's resolve hardened. He needed to confess, to beg forgiveness if necessary.

The thought of hurting Lucifer, of jeopardizing their fragile new bond, was unbearable.

<3<3<3

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow across the leather-bound tome in Lucifer's hands.

He sank deeper into his favorite armchair, relishing the quiet solitude of his study. The scent of aged paper and wood smoke mingled in the air, a comforting aroma that never failed to soothe his eternally restless mind.

As Lucifer's eyes danced across the page, devouring each word—a good distraction from missing Alastor while he was reluctantly out at the bachelorette party tonight.

A faint smile tugged at the older man’s lips.

He could picture his boyfriend now—impeccably dressed, charm turned up to eleven, effortlessly commanding the room's attention.

Lucifer wasn’t worried about Alastor. The man had iron-clad self-control as far as he was concerned, even when they drank together.

The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner marked the passage of time.

Lucifer barely noticed as the hours slipped by, lost in one of his favorite texts, Paradise Lost.

A muffled sound from beyond the study doors barely registered as footsteps as he turned another page.

Suddenly, the double doors burst open with a resounding bang. Lucifer's head snapped up, startled from his literary reverie.

There, silhouetted dramatically in the doorway, stood Alastor.

Or rather, there swayed Alastor.

The brunette took a staggering step forward, one hand braced against the doorframe. His usual fluid grace was slightly off-kilter, but he still managed to cut an impressive figure.

Alastor's hazel eyes gleamed with an intensity that sent a shiver down Lucifer's spine.

"My dear," Alastor purred, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a slur. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…important."

“Just the fall of the Garden of Eden, nothing major.” He chuckled, but then Lucifer's eyebrows shot up, surprise and amusement dancing across his features.

He'd never seen Alastor quite like this before.

The usually impeccable gentleman’s cheeks were flushed a deeper shade of red than normal, his perfectly coiffed hair slightly disheveled. There was a wild, almost desperate look in those eyes that both intrigued and concerned the blonde.

"Alastor?" Lucifer set his book aside, leaning forward in his chair. "Are you…alright?"

Before he could say more, Alastor closed the distance between them in a few unsteady strides.

With a dramatic flourish that was pure theater, the younger man dropped to his knees before Lucifer's chair. His hands found purchase on the older’s thighs, gripping tightly as if to steady himself.

"Lucifer, my darling," Alastor breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I must beg your forgiveness."

The blonde blinked, momentarily stunned by this uncharacteristic display.

He'd never seen Alastor so…unraveled.

A part of him was deeply concerned, while another part found the whole situation oddly endearing.

Lucifer arched an eyebrow, worry and dry amusement playing across his features. He set his book aside, the leather-bound tome making a soft thud as it landed on the side table.

"For what, exactly?" Lucifer asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and gentle prodding.

Alastor's usual composure seemed to crumble at the question. Words began to pour out of him in a frantic, jumbled rush.

"The party—Angel’s little bachelorette soirée—it was all in good fun, I assure you, but things got a bit…carried away. There was this scarf trick, you see, and then a demonstration with a cane—purely educational, mind you—but I fear I may have overstepped…"

Lucifer struggled to follow the rapid-fire explanation, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the fragments.

Angel? A scarf trick? What kind of demonstration? His mind raced, conjuring up increasingly outlandish scenarios.

"Slow down," Lucifer murmured, his hands moving to cup Alastor's flushed cheeks. "You're not making much sense."

But Alastor seemed incapable of slowing down, the alcohol clearly loosening his usually silver tongue. “But then everyone started cheering, and Angel was egging me on, and before I thought better of it—”

Lucifer's unease grew as Alastor's rambling became more incoherent. With a gentle yet firm motion, he placed his hand over Alastor's mouth, effectively silencing the stream of words.

"Breathe, Sweetheart," Lucifer said softly, his eyes locked on Alastor's. "Slowly. Try again."

He could feel Alastor's warm, erratic breath against his palm. The usually composed brunette looked utterly confounded, his hair askew and his bow tie hanging loose around his neck.

Lucifer's heart ached at the sight.

Alastor nodded against the older man’s hand, his eyes wide and grateful. As Lucifer slowly withdrew his touch, Alastor exhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the crackling of the fireplace.

Lucifer watched as Alastor closed his eyes, visibly attempting to gather himself. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to grow louder in the silence.

"Take your time," Lucifer murmured, his hand moving to rest comfortingly on Alastor's hands. "I'm listening."

The younger’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Lucifer's gaze. The panic in them had subsided somewhat, replaced by a determined focus. He straightened his posture, squared his shoulders, and took another deep breath.

"Right," Alastor said, his voice steadier now. "Let me explain properly."

Alastor's hazel eyes bore into Lucifer's with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the alcohol-induced haze. His grip tightened slightly on Lucifer's thighs, steadying himself.

"Before we discuss tonight," Alastor began, his voice low and measured but tinged with urgency, "there's something I need to tell you—about my past."

Lucifer felt a flicker of apprehension in his chest. He leaned forward slightly, drawn in by the gravity of Alastor's tone.

What could be weighing on Alastor this much when he was so drunk?

"Go on," Lucifer encouraged softly, his curiosity kindled. He fought to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to betray the concern and curiosity swirling within him.

Whatever Alastor needed to share, Lucifer was determined to listen without judgment.

Alastor swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing visibly.

The Dom rarely showed such vulnerability, and Lucifer found himself holding his breath, waiting for the revelation that seemed to be teetering on the edge of Alastor's lips.

Alastor's gaze flickered momentarily to the crackling fire, as if drawing strength from its steady warmth. When he looked back at Lucifer, his expression was a carefully constructed mask.

"I used to perform," Alastor began, each word precisely chosen, "as a dominant, for hire." He paused, searching Lucifer's face for any reaction. Finding none, he pressed on, his tone tinged with a hint of desperation. "For parties, performances, private events…sometimes educational ones, like I told you."

Lucifer blinked, his brow furrowing as he processed this information.

A professional dominant? The concept was entirely foreign to him. He'd heard of sex workers, of course, but this seemed…different. More performative, perhaps.

Or maybe, that was just him trying to reconcile this new information with the Alastor he knew.

"A dominant…for hire?" Lucifer repeated slowly, tasting the words. His golden eyes searched Alastor's face, noting the tension in his jaw, the slight tremor in his hands still resting on Lucifer's thighs. "I don't understand. What exactly did that entail?"

Alastor's shoulders sagged slightly.

"It varied," he explained, his voice steadier now. "Sometimes it was purely educational—demonstrations at BDSM workshops, teaching proper technique and safety. Other times, it was more…theatrical."

Lucifer nodded slowly, encouraging Alastor to continue. The scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the familiar notes of his cologne.

"I would perform at private parties," Alastor continued, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "Fetish clubs, exclusive gatherings. It was all very…choreographed. Like a dance, really. The audience would watch as I demonstrated various techniques on a willing submissive."

As Alastor spoke, Lucifer could almost picture it—Alastor in his element, commanding a room's attention, his movements precise and calculated.

It wasn't difficult to imagine; he'd seen glimpses of that showmanship, that raw charisma, in their private moments together.

He hadn’t thought about it before—not in any real sense—but now the image took form. Of Alastor, surrounded by people eager to be bent to his will.

It made, something ache inside Lucifer. Something he wasn’t entirely proud of.

Yes, he could tell that Alastor had quite a lot of experience when it came to the performance of a scene—but did that mean what they were sharing was just a performance for Alastor?

"But…forgive me, Alastor, I'm still a bit confused. Given your…issues with intimacy…" He trailed off, not wanting to push too hard on a sensitive subject.

There were times with Lucifer that Alastor had trouble finishing. He couldn’t imagine the pressure of performing like that in front of a crowd of strangers.

“It wasn’t like that.” Alastor's lips quirked into a sour smile.

“So it wasn’t like a live sex show?”

Alastor immediately recoiled, like the thought horrified him. "No! Absolutely not!" he exclaimed, his usual smooth cadence cracking with vehemence.

Okay, maybe that shouldn’t make Lucifer as happy as it did. To know that there was still some eroticism only he and Alastor shared.

It wasn’t rational, and he knew it. But Lucifer’s insecurities rarely were.

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Alastor reached to straighten his bowtie, only to find it already undone and hanging off his collar.

"There was no sexual activity whatsoever," he emphasized, his voice low and intense. "What I offered were carefully curated BDSM demonstrations for private audiences." Alastor's hands moved in precise, controlled gestures—especially for a man with alcohol-flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. "Think of it as…performance art. A display of power dynamics, if you will."

Lucifer leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes fixed on Alastor's face.

Alastor continued, his words flowing more smoothly now. "I would showcase various techniques—rope work, impact play, sensory deprivation. All consensual, all meticulously choreographed."

“And, Angel—Anthony—was someone you used to do this…choreography with?”

The brunette swallowed, looking thoroughly admonished though Lucifer hadn’t said anything. “Yes, Anthony was.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, Lucifer spoke, his voice measured and calm.

"I appreciate you telling me this. I can tell it was hard for you," Lucifer said, leaning back in his chair. "I wish I'd known sooner, but…it's in the past. It has nothing to do with us. "

Alastor's eyes widened, a flicker of hope dancing across his features. "You're not…upset?"

"I wouldn't say I'm thrilled. I wish you'd told me sooner, especially about your history with Anthony."

A shadow of guilt passed over Alastor's face, his shoulders tensing. Lucifer reached out, gently cupping Alastor's cheek in his palm.

The warmth of Alastor's flushed skin against his hand was a stark reminder of his partner's inebriated state.

"But," Lucifer continued, his voice soft but firm, "I understand why you didn't."

"I didn't want it to change how you saw me." Alastor nodded, leaning into Lucifer's touch.

"Your past doesn't change who you are to me," Lucifer continued, his voice low and steady.

Alastor's breath hitched, his hands tightening on Lucifer's thighs. The older man could feel the slight tremor running through his partner's frame.

"But," Lucifer added, "in the future, I need you to be honest with me. About everything. Even the parts of yourself you think might scare me away. Especially those parts. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. I promise." Alastor nodded vigorously, his usual eloquence seemingly abandoning him in the face of Lucifer's steady gaze.

Lucifer's lips quirked into a small smile. "Good. Now, about this party tonight…" He trailed off, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Alastor's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "Ah, yes. Well, you see…"

Alastor's eyes darted away for a moment. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before meeting Lucifer's gaze once more.

"At the bachelorette party," he began, his voice low and measured, "things took an…unexpected turn."

Lucifer remained silent, his expression unreadable as he waited for Alastor to continue.

"The girls, they…" Alastor paused, searching for the right words. "They encouraged a demonstration. Of my former skills." His hands twitched slightly in Lucifer’s lap, betraying his nervousness. "I used a silk scarf to restrain Anthony."

"You…tied Anthony's hands with a scarf?" Lucifer repeated slowly, trying to understand why this relatively innocuous act was causing Alastor such distress.

"Yes, and…and I demonstrated some techniques with a cane as well," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

The blonde's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of something—jealousy? Insecurity?—flashing across his face before he could school his features.

"A cane?" he echoed, his voice tight.

"It wasn't—I didn't—" Alastor stumbled over his words, in ways the blonde had never heard from him. "It was all very…educational. Professional. Just like old times, really."

Lucifer's mind raced, conjuring images of Alastor wielding a cane with practiced ease, Anthony's lithe form bent over some makeshift stage.

The mental picture sent an uncomfortable pang through his chest.

"I see," Lucifer said, his voice carefully neutral. "And this... demonstration. Was it well-received?"

"They were…quite enthusiastic," Alastor's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. "There may have been some…cheering."

Lucifer knew it wasn’t cheating. Not in the technical sense.

ut the image—the idea of Alastor’s hands on someone else, commanding a scene while others watched—it settled like a bitter taste at the back of his throat.

He should have been past jealousy at his age. And yet, here it was, sinking in like teeth.

"I'm sure you enjoyed the show," Lucifer murmured, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone.

Alastor's head snapped up, his eyes wide with alarm. "Darling, no—it wasn't like that at all. I was just going through the motions, performing. It meant nothing."

"Nothing?" Lucifer's jaw tightened."Then why are you on your knees, begging for forgiveness?"

Alastor's eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing his features. He reached out, his hands hovering just above Lucifer's knees, not quite daring to touch.

"Because I'm a fool," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I don’t know how to do this. Because I’ve never had something I was afraid of losing before—Because I heard Vaggie's sister say she'd be jealous if her partner did something like that. And suddenly, all I could think about was you. How you might feel, how it might look to you.”

Alastor's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping.

"I couldn't bear the thought of you believing I'd betrayed your trust. The very idea of hurting you, of jeopardizing what we have…" His voice cracked, the vulnerability in his tone startling in its rawness.

Lucifer's heart clenched, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within him.

He wanted to forgive Alastor, to sweep this all away with a gentle word and a warm embrace.

But the image of Alastor commanding a room full of eager onlookers, Anthony bent submissively before him, burned in Lucifer's mind.

Lucifer exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the chair. "You didn’t mean to hurt me."

Alastor nodded quickly. "Never."

"But you did," Lucifer admitted, his voice barely above a murmur. "And it wasn't just about tonight. It was knowing that there was an entire part of you I never knew. That someone else—Anthony—knows a part of you that I don’t."

Alastor flinched, and Lucifer finally looked at him again, searching his face, gauging his reaction.

"I didn’t mean to—" Alastor started, but Lucifer cut him off.

"I know you didn’t," he said. "But it doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it."

"Lucifer, please—"

"Let me finish," Lucifer interrupted, holding up a hand. He took a deep breath, the scent of old books and wood smoke filling his lungs. "I know it's irrational. You have a past, so do I. But the thought of you performing like that now, of others experiencing what I thought was just for us…"

He trailed off, his golden eyes distant.

"You know, sometimes I feel like I'm just not enough for you," Lucifer confessed, the admission leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

Alastor's breath caught, a soft, sorrowful sound escaping him. His hands slid up the arms of Lucifer’s chair, pressing closer but still not daring to make contact.

"Darling, that's not true," Alastor replied, his voice heavy-laden. "You are the only one I want, I swear it."

Lucifer's gaze flickered to Alastor's face, taking in the earnest desperation etched into every line. The younger man's usual poise was completely shattered, leaving him raw and vulnerable in a way Lucifer had never seen before.

"I believe you," Lucifer said softly, reaching out to cup Alastor's cheek. "But that doesn't make the hurt disappear."

Alastor leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. A single tear escaped, trailing down his flushed cheek.

"Tell me how to make this right," Alastor pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do anything, Lucifer. Anything."

The blonde's heart ached at the sight of his usually composed partner so utterly undone. So sincere.

Lucifer gazed down at Alastor, suddenly struck by how young he looked in that moment.

The usual sharp angles of his face were softened by vulnerability, his hazel eyes wide and pleading. In the flickering firelight, Lucifer could see the faintest traces of laugh lines just beginning to form at the corners of Alastor's eyes—a stark contrast to the deep creases etched into his own face after years of joy and sorrow.

Alastor had never navigated the complexities of a long-term relationship before.

While Lucifer had weathered the storms of a twenty-year marriage.

Six months of fumbling through uncharted emotional territory versus two decades of hard-won wisdom.

Lucifer had been judging Alastor's actions through the lens of his own experiences, expecting a level of relationship savvy that Alastor simply hadn't had the chance to develop yet.

The younger man's frantic confession, his desperate need for absolution—it all stemmed from a place of genuine uncertainty and fear.

"Oh, sweetheart," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I forgot, for a moment, how new all of this is for you."

Alastor's brow furrowed, his hands coming up to grip Lucifer's wrists. "I didn’t understand," he said, his voice hoarse. "I…I never meant to make you feel…"

"I know," Lucifer interrupted gently. "And that's why I’m trying not to be upset with you. You didn't do this out of malice or disregard for my feelings. You simply…didn't realize."

The grandfather clock chimed softly in the corner, marking the late hour. Lucifer glanced at it briefly before turning his attention back to Alastor, who still knelt before him, looking utterly lost.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice soft but firm, "I think, moving forward, I'd prefer if we kept your… dominant side just between us."

The firelight flickered across Alastor's face, highlighting the conflict in his eyes. His lips parted, then closed, as he struggled to find the right words.

"I…of course, darling. I never meant to—" Alastor's usually smooth voice cracked, thick with emotion and lingering intoxication.

“And, if someone from your past shows up again, I want to hear it from you first.”

"I'm so terribly sorry. I should have considered—"

Lucifer leaned forward, pressing a gentle finger to Alastor's lips, effectively silencing his rambling apology.

"Shh," Lucifer soothed, his golden eyes warm with affection. "It's alright, love. I forgive you."

Alastor's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body. He leaned into Lucifer's touch, nuzzling against his hand like a cat seeking comfort.

A low chuckle rumbled in Lucifer's chest, fond amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though I have a feeling, I'll need to remind you of this entire conversation in the morning."

Alastor exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as the tension he'd been carrying since the party finally released its grip.

The relief was palpable, washing over him in waves that left him feeling almost lightheaded.

Or perhaps that was just the whiskey.

His body swayed precariously, and before he could catch himself, he toppled forward, nearly falling into Lucifer's lap.

Lucifer's arms shot out instinctively, catching Alastor and steadying him. The brunette's face pressed against Lucifer's chest, his glasses askew and his hair a disarrayed mess.

Lucifer gently cupped Alastor's cheek with one hand. His thumb stroked softly over the flushed skin, tracing the faint freckles that dusted Alastor's cheekbones.

The alcohol still coursing through his system made everything feel slightly dreamlike, softening the edges of reality. He found himself captivated by the play of light on Lucifer's face, the way it caught in his hair and made it gleam like spun gold.

Alastor blinked up at him, his hazel eyes slightly unfocused behind his crooked glasses. His lips parted, then closed, as if he were struggling to find the right words.

"Lucifer," Alastor finally whispered, his voice cracking with vulnerability, "you won't…you're not going to leave me, are you?"

The question felt fragile as spun glass.

Lucifer didn’t respond right away.

He sat back in his chair, his golden eyes flickering with something unreadable as the fire crackled between them. The silence stretched, thick and weighted, pressing in on Alastor’s chest like a slow, deliberate squeeze.

For the first time that night, Alastor felt something like fear. Not fear of anger, nor rejection—but of losing the breakable, tenuous thing between them before it had truly settled into permanence.

"I'm not going anywhere." Lucifer murmured, his voice low and rich like honey.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Alastor's.

Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, shutting out the rest of the world.

"People make mistakes, Alastor," Lucifer continued, his thumbs caressing Alastor's cheekbones in soothing circles. "It's part of being in a relationship. It’s how you do better that counts."

Alastor's eyes fluttered closed, drinking in Lucifer's words like a man dying of thirst.

A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek and catching on Lucifer's thumb. The older man gently wiped it away.

"I couldn't bear it if you left," Alastor confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've become…everything to me." The admission seemed to cost him greatly.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his golden eyes searching Alastor's face. The vulnerability he saw there, so raw and unguarded, made his heart ache with a fierce protectiveness.

"Listen to me, sweetheart," Lucifer said, his voice firm but gentle. "I'm not going anywhere. But I need you to promise me something."

Alastor nodded eagerly, his eyes wide and earnest. "Anything," he breathed.

"Promise me," Lucifer murmured, tilting Alastor’s chin up so he had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Not just about this. About everything. No more secrets between us."

Alastor didn’t answer right away. Not because he was hesitating, but because he felt the weight of what was being asked of him—truly, fully, for the first time.

No more holding back. No more guarding himself. No more carefully chosen omissions to protect his pride.

Lucifer wanted everything. And Alastor would give it.

“I promise you, on my life, on the very depths of my soul. On my mother’s grave.”

“Okay, alright, that’s enough ‘on’s.” Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle. Trust his boyfriend to be falling down drunk and still able to make poetic vows.

"Y’know, this is terrible…but I kinda like seeing you groveling," Lucifer murmured, his voice low and teasing. "We should do it again—when you're sober."

Despite his clouded thoughts, he felt a familiar spark of challenge ignite within him.

Summoning what remained of his composure, Alastor met Lucifer's gaze with a lazy smirk of his own.

His voice was slightly slurred but retained its characteristic smoothness as he fired back, "Be careful what you wish for, my dear. You might find yourself the one begging."

"Alright, you silver-tongued devil," Lucifer chuckled, his voice a blend of exasperation and affection. "Let's get you to bed."

With a gentle but firm grip, Lucifer helped Alastor to his feet.

The taller man swayed slightly, his usual grace momentarily abandoning him. Lucifer's arm snaked around Alastor's waist, steadying him.

"I'm perfectly capable of—" Alastor began to protest, but his words were cut short as he stumbled slightly.

"Of course you are, sweetheart," Lucifer replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, up we go. You're going to bed before you talk yourself into more trouble."

As they made their way up the grand staircase, Alastor found himself leaning into Lucifer's solid presence more than he'd care to admit.

The warmth of Lucifer's body against his side was comforting, and Alastor felt a wave of gratitude wash over him.

"You're too good to me," Alastor murmured, his words slightly slurred.

“Pretty sure I say that to you all the time.” Lucifer squeezed him gently.

Once in their bedroom, Lucifer guided Alastor to sit on the edge of the bed. With practiced ease, he began to loosen Alastor's shirt collar, his fingers working deftly at the buttons of his vest.

"I can undress myself," Alastor protested weakly, even as he tilted his chin to give Lucifer better access.

"Humor me," Lucifer replied, sliding the silk tie from around Alastor's neck. "Besides, I like taking care of you for a change."

Alastor found himself mesmerized by the gentleness of the touch.

"There," Lucifer said softly, helping Alastor shrug off the vest. "Much more comfortable."

Alastor nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. "Thank you," he mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Alastor's eyelids grew heavy as Lucifer worked through getting a t-shirt on him and his pants off.

Then, those fingers were in his hair, trying to straighten out his dented curls as much as he could.

The brunette leaned into the touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. The warmth radiating from Lucifer's body was mesmerizing, drawing Alastor closer like a moth to a flame.

"You're like a big cat," Lucifer chuckled softly, his breath against Alastor's ear. "I half expect you to start purring."

Alastor tried to muster a witty retort, but his mind was hazy with alcohol and exhaustion. Instead, he nuzzled closer, drinking in Lucifer's comforting scent.

With gentle hands, Lucifer eased Alastor back onto the plush pillows, pulling the silken sheets up to his chest.

The king-sized bed seemed to envelop Alastor, and he felt himself sinking into its embrace.

Just as his consciousness began to slip away, a nagging thought clawed its way to the surface of Alastor's mind.

"There's…more I need to tell you," His eyes fluttered open, catching Lucifer's gaze. "About my past."

Alastor wanted to elaborate, to unburden himself of the secrets he'd carried for so long, but exhaustion pulled at him relentlessly.

Lucifer's fingers continued their gentle caress through Alastor's hair, soothing away the furrow that had formed between his brows. With infinite tenderness, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the brunette’s forehead.

"It can wait until morning," Lucifer murmured.

Alastor's eyes, which had been fighting to stay open, finally drifted closed at Lucifer's words. He let out a long sigh, contentment and lingering worry escaping his lips.

"But…" Alastor mumbled, his words slurring slightly.

"Shh," Lucifer hushed him gently. "You need to sleep. We can talk about whatever you want in the morning. But not tonight."

Alastor wanted to argue, to insist on unburdening himself now, but Lucifer's soothing presence and the allure of sleep were too powerful to resist. He nestled deeper into the pillows, his body relaxing incrementally as Lucifer's fingers continued their gentle ministrations.

As he teetered on the edge of sleep, Alastor's last coherent thought was gratitude for Lucifer's understanding.

Lucifer reached for the plush comforter at the foot of the bed, unfurling it with a gentle snap.

"There we go," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Comfortable, sweetheart?"

Alastor's response was a contented hum, muffled by the pillow. His eyelids fluttered, fighting a losing battle against sleep.

Lucifer settled beside him, one arm draped protectively over Alastor's blanketed form. He pulled him close, savoring the familiar weight and warmth of his partner against his chest.

As they lay there, the soft crackling of the dying fire in the hearth provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet room.

“I don’t care what you were before.” Lucifer murmured. “I only care that you’re mine now.”

The fire popped softly, its warmth seeping into their bones and lulling them both towards sleep.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

#radioapple #radioapple human au #radioapple fic #radioapple smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #dom!alastor #sub!lucifer #top!alastor #bottom!lucifer #AtValentinesDay-DarcyDarling

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lady-lunabelle · 5 months ago

Text

Rook questionnaire

Tagged by no one in particular, but I did see @caffeinatedmunchkin do hers, and she said to tag her if any of her followers did it, so… hey!

Meet Lilya “Lillie” Thorne. Human, Mage, Grey Warden. I chose the name from the default pool the game provided and ended up liking it enough to make it her canon name. It’s pure coincidence that I chose that name, ended up romancing Emmrich, and it turns out he’s a hobbiest botanist.

1: Where in Thedas is your Rook from?

Ferelden, born on a farm in the Crestwood area.

2: What is your character's alignment?

Neutral good. She has her own morals and beliefs.

3: Race and subclass?

Human mage.

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

Most likely at Weisshaupt training with her comrades.

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

All three, but tended to stick to the playful and paragon options. Was usually fairly optimistic most of the time, but pretty harsh and sassy towards Solas.

6: What companion are they platonically close with?

Davrin because of the shared GW background, but found a kindred spirit in Bellara. She also bonded with Harding over their being fellow Fereldans.

7: Romantically close with?

Emmrich. I live to imagine the two of them bonding over sharing stories about lives. She regales him with stories of her numerous missions with the Wardens, and he answers all her burning questions about the Mourn Watch, Nevarra, and necromancy (as it’s a magic completely foreign to her as a Ferelden technical apostate).

8: Who are they suspicious of?

Most of the Antivan Crows. She had only ever heard dodgy things another them, so was initially reluctant to work with them until she got to know Lucanis’s faction and learned that they were the reformed branch.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

She was a bit of a loose canon, but made up for it by being diplomatic as possible with the First Warden.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

I like to imagine she plays a bit of the lute in her free time.

11: Weapon of choice?

Spellblade supremacy.

12: What is their orientation?

Bisexual. Not that she’s had much experience with anyone before Emmrich.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Being a Grey Warden, to her it’s a necessary evil.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

Growing up on a farm, she’s always had a natural report with animals and practical skills. So horse back riding, animal handling, sewing, simple cooking, etc.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which ones do they dislike?

Antoine and Evka were the only ones who still believed in her around the start of Veilguard. She gained a report with Vorgoth and Myrna, and even Teia even though she was initially suspicious of the Crows. Illario was slower though.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

I’m not ashamed to say I stopped to pay every cat in the game.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

Being a Warden, traveling and adventure has been her job. She would like to maybe do it for pleasure in the future, though. With Emmrich.

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

Serving the Wardens, but shipped off to Lavendel for insubordination.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

She expected it to be when she gets The Calling. But after the events it Veilguard, she’s making new plans with Emmrich so is hoping to spend the rest of her life with him. Maybe even start a family with him.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Fight him. In her mind, he’s a threat to all the lives of her loved ones. She was not too trusting of him even before his betrayal, so she’s ready to throw hands with him as soon as she meets him in person.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

Thunderous End and Void Blade. The Spellblade class is so much fun.

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Common Tongue. Though she’s picked up a few curse words in different languages.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Being a Grey Warden’s she’s learned to channel her frustration into her training. So, expect to find her burning training dummies to ash during times of crisis.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Being Fereldan, she’s pretty firmly Andrastian. Which does sometimes come into conflict with her being a Mage.

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

Again, Spellblade supremacy.

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

She has a fairly big heroic streak, and she’s very protective of those she comes to care about. So I’d say either a lioness or a mama bear.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Serving the Grey Wardens. Or rather, unleashing chaos in the name of saving people.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

De facto leader. She’s had experience leading teams in the Wardens, but given recent events she’s unsure of her ability to lead comfortably again.

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

Either the Shadow Dragons or the Mourn Watch. Being a Mage who was forced to hide her abilities in Ferelden to avoid being forced into the Circle, I could see her feeling quite a sense of freedom in Minrathous. Same for Nevarra. I can see her getting all excited over learning a new form of magic previously unknown to her.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

Her determination and steadfastness. She’s a young woman from humble beginnings, forced from an early age to hide her magical abilities lest her be taken by the Templars and forced into the Circle of Magi. Joining the Wardens was the first time she was able to use her powers freely without fear of reprisal. She’s so steadfast in her beliefs, and while her faith in Andraste and the Chantry is continuously tested, she still believes the moral lessons it teaches are what really matter.

She also believes in the needs of the many, willing to ignore orders if it meant saving lives. She joined the Wardens to help people, and that’s what she always aims to do no matter the cost. She doesn’t believe in sacrificing the lives of her friends to achieve her goal. To her, losing even one soldier is a tragedy. This is the biggest difference between her and Solas.

I also love her freckles.

—————————

And that’s about it. Don’t really have anyone to tag, but I invite anyone to do this. It’s fun! 🙂

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #emmrich x rook #emmrook #bioware #I have a fic in the works about her and Emmrich I swear #life is just getting in the way

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nerdallwritey · 10 months ago

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Wip Wednesday!

I was tagged by @khywren!! Thank you!!!!!

Part 3 of Beauty and the Bard is FINISHED, but my beta is currently the busiest woman in the world (she's getting mawwied 🤭) so it'll take a few more days until I officially post, but here's a bit of banter to make up for it! Find it below the cut:

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira.

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.”

You nodded and smiled as she left to join Lakrissa again at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip.

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine.

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.”

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.”

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed. “But fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes.

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

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numbugwritingblog · 9 months ago

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The Immortal Tale of Diego Sánchez (Chapter 1)

Index

---

08/01/2009

Today was a celebration. Numerous people had all gathered up with one unified purpose, each greeting each other with a smile and pleasant talk all to catch up.

Today was the birthday of Diego Molinero Sánchez. His 497th birthday.

Among those attending was a girl, a hybrid between a rosy maple moth and a panda – ensuring her freshly pupated bright pink and yellow fluff was stylised similarly to a panda, and also her absolutely massive size compared to the other moth children, and even some of the adults. She was only coming up short in comparison to the few non-moth guests attending.

She was so big, in fact, that her fluffy wings couldn’t lift her off the ground, forcing her to walk around. This was the first time she had attended Diego’s party, on account of either being a baby caterpillar or stuck pupating in a tree.

“Dad?” She asked aloud, looking over to her father – whom she was already around the same height as.

He looked back to her, tilting his head. “Yes, little Mina?” Even though she was going to get taller than him any day now, he wasn’t ever going to stop calling her his “little” Mina.

“Is Diego-”

“Uh,” he quickly cut her off. “He’s your great, great, great… er, greatest grandpa.”

“… Right,” she said with a slow nod. “Is my ‘greatest’ grandpa the oldest person in the world?”

He nodded. “Uh… yes?”

She nodded, tilting her head. “How old’s the next oldest person?”

Her father paused, he needed a moment to think. “Uh… about a hundred? I think?”

Her moth eyes widened at the news. “How did he do that?!”

“How did- you mean living so long?”

“Yeah! How did greatest grandpa do that?”

He let out a sigh, scratching his head. “… How about you ask him yourself? I’m sure he has a better idea than me.”

That was when a rather large panda came walking right in, towering over absolutely everyone else in the party. “Mina! Maneul!” She scooped the both of them up in a big hug. “I found Diego, let’s give him our gift together!”

Before either of them could say anything she carried them off in her arms, straight up the stairs. “I got the gift nice and safe!”

She took a turn through the hallway, up to the balcony up top, where a butterfly was seated, playing a lute to the crowd of children surrounding him. The butterfly was what we’d call a Mexican blue wing butterfly, but is known in this world as a Cualitlek blue wing butterfly. Dressed in a shirt and jeans traditional to the country of his namesake species, he looked like a rather young adult.

Mina noticed that one of his four hands was different from the rest, looking grey and… fake. “What happened to your hand?” She asked aloud, the lute-playing butterfly ceasing at the question.

“Hm?” Looking over to Mina and her parents, his face lit up into a wide smile – passing the lute to a young girl in the front, another Cualitlek blue wing butterfly – as he made his way over to greet them and gave them both a hug. “Camilla! Maneul! Good to see you two!” He looked at Mina, smiling wide. “And you must be Mina, I’ve heard so much about you!”

Mina tilted her head, looking up to her mother. Did they know him?

“So sorry about our lovely Mina here, she didn’t mean anything by it, grandpa,” Mina’s dad spoke up.

Wait. “This is greatest grandpa?!” Mina looked up in confusion, turning to him and then back to her dad. “He’s younger than you, dad!”

Diego let out a hearty chuckle, smiling wide. “Yes, that’s right, soy el major abuelo, but you can always call me grandpa, or Diego if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Soy el major abuelo???

Diego held out an arm for a shake – his upper right arm, with the strange looking hand. “And as for your other question, this is a prosthetic, I lost my hand some time ago.”

Mina looked at the hand with curiosity, before reaching out to shake it. “So it’s like a new hand?”

Diego let out a hum. “In a way.”

“Diego-”

“It’s grandpa-” Mina’s dad didn’t get to say much before he, too, was interrupted.

“Diego’s fine,” Diego had a warm smile on his face, looking to Mina’s dad with a small nod. “She just met me, let her decide if and when to call me grandpa.” He then looked back to Mina – he would be kneeling down if she wasn’t already so tall. “Do you have another question for me?”

“Yeah!” Mina said with a nod. “How are you so old?”

Mina’s mother looked down to her with shock. “Mina!”

Diego chuckled. “No no, I get it. If you learn someone’s almost quinientos years old you’re going to want to know why too.”

Mina finally struggled free from her mother’s grasp, standing tall and curious. “Yeah, you get it! You’re… Quinientos?”

“Five hundred.” After answering, Diego made his way back to his chair and sat down. “Well the truth is, I wish I knew myself. Really, it took me a while just to learn that I wasn’t getting older like everyone else was.”

“How did you find out?” One of the various children asked curiously.

Diego closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in before a wide smile formed on his face. “If you want to know, I’m happy to tell all of you kids about my early years.”

“It’s your party,” Mina’s dad stepped in, even as Mina sat down amongst the rest of the children. “I can get someone to look after the kids.”

Diego shook his head. “Nonsense, the party’s so that I can meet all of my family, and that includes the kids. Please.”

Mina’s dad sighed. “I… alright, grandpa, if this is what you want.”

Mina’s mom held up her gift, smiling wide. “This is for you!”

Diego let out a small chuckle. “Please, gifts are not required-”

“I insist!”

Diego put a hand on his chin. “Alright then, there’s a pile of gifts in the lounge from everyone else who also insisted, I can open it up with them later, after the party itself.”

“Okay then!” Mina’s mother rushed off to put the gift in its rightful place, all while Diego looked to the small crowd of children gathered, all waiting for his story.

Diego smiled wide. “Well, it was 497 years ago, today, that I was born...”

---

08/01/1512

I came to this world with a padre from Ibleñia, and a Mexican native madre, the two had met and fallen in love even amongst all the chaos of the war the two were united on, and they stayed even once the other men began seeking girlfriends and wives from their homes.

“¡Tengo un hijo...!” My father, from what I heard, was absolutely ecstatic at the sight of me. His rough exterior melted the moment he laid eyes upon me, even as my mother held me close to keep me warm.

To the two of them, this was the most important day of their lives. To the world at large, it was just a normal birth. As far as anyone could tell, I was an ordinary baby.

---

08/01/2009

“Excuse me?”

Diego blinked, looking over to Mina. “Yes, what is it?”

“What are those words you said?”

“¿Tengo un hijo?” Diego asked again.

“Yeah!” Mina called out. “What is that?”

“Oh!” Diego nodded. “It’s Spanish for ‘I have a son’, what I was told my father said.”

“Oh! Okay!” Mina called out.

Diego nodded, smiling wide as he took in a breath to continue.

“I don’t know Spanish.”

Diego let out a small, thoughtful sigh – not one of annoyance of frustration, but one of contemplation. “Right, right, most of you grew up only knowing English. I’ll try to keep everything in English – though I might throw in a word or two of Spanish.”

He cleared his throat, ready to continue.

---

16/07/1523

Growing up, Pa and Ma did everything in their power to take good care of me, making sure that I not only grew up safe, but with the knowledge both of them had. One big passion I had early on was for music, practising on pa’s lute. When Pa noticed, he bought me a lute of my own and began tutoring me himself.

Don’t let anyone tell you that learning to play music well is easy.

Why, I still remember one day where I was practising my lute in front of pa, and one of the strings snapped.

I wasn’t very good at music, and this in particular upset me quite a lot. I remember just dropping my instrument to the ground with anger.

My Pa immediately picked it back up and looked me in the eye. “You need to treat it with care.”

“I give up, I’ll never be good at this stupid thing!”

My dad gave a small chuckle. He took a spare string out, and began the process of replacing the broken string with a new string. “Maybe you’re right.” He strummed it for a moment to test the new string, before passing it back. “But maybe you’re not. You like playing, don’t you?”

I sighed. He had to be going somewhere with this. “Yes…”

“I know you won’t believe me if I said you were good, no matter how sincere I was. But the fact that you don’t think you are doesn’t change the fact you like playing, right?”

“… Right.” I was now looking him in the eye in turn, instead of on my lute.

He shoved it right back into my hands. “Keep practising.”

“But pa-”

“You only have one life! I want you to be the man who makes the most of it, instead of the man who looks back and wonders if he could have done things differently.”

I look back down, taking in a heavy breath. “But it won’t be good.”

“So?”

I didn’t say anything more, instead I continued practising. I hoped he was right.

---

08/01/2009

“And he was.” Diego gently picked the lute back up, mesmerising the kids by playing a short tune. “And I’m glad I kept at it, because it was only a few years before I met someone very special.”

He let out a slow, soft sigh, smiling wide as he thought back. “This was the day I met my first wife, Maria.”

---

03/10/1529

She was a lovely girl, always full of spirit, and a hauntingly beautiful singing voice that always put the angels to shame. In fact I was doing some errands for my Pa when I heard that voice ring out for the first time.

Her family recently moved in and set up the local flower shop, and she was vocalising to herself while watering the garden that lined the walls of the store.

I was supposed to just get something quick and then head right back, but her song, her words, they had captivated me so much. I was just there, no concerns in my mind besides that beautiful voice…

… Well, until she noticed me. When I realised how I must’ve looked, I took a step back. “You-”

“Don’t talk with any rich boys.” Maria’s father had also noticed me staring, and came out. “They’ll act like you’re their angel before dropping you for their traída.” Before he even gave her a chance to speak he ushered her straight inside, barely giving me the time to let out a quick wave.

I needed to focus, and I made my way in to purchase… I don’t remember what it was now. But I still remember that as I was talking to her father, I noticed her hear peeking out from the door frame to look at me.

I only looked at her once I knew her father was distracted, and only so she knew I wasn’t just ignoring her.

---

07/11/1529

It was the next day that I took my lute and sat a small distance away from the store. I sat on a chair and began playing. I knew my music wasn’t as good as her wonderful voice, but I hoped it would be enough to draw her out. After all, it was like Pa said – I only had one life.

I remember feeling sweat on my neck when I saw Maria emerge from the store, especially once she saw that it was me playing.

And I remember that my heart sank when she came back inside.

It was okay, though. I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I continued the song I had, not wanting to leave my song unfinished.

Then she came back out, walking up towards me. She sat down on one side of the path, and she immediately began singing.

She stole the show, and I was just trying to match her beautiful voice (and failing), but it was okay. It wasn’t about being as good as I could, it was about sharing our music with each other.

---

08/01/2009

“Maria must be wonderful,” Mina said softly, already captivated by the story. It sounded so magical, just getting close to someone without needing a single word.

Diego nodded, letting out a heavy sigh. “She really was…”

When the small butterfly in front of him raised an arm, he looked over to them. “Yes, Azulita?”

“Can I meet Maria?”

“…” Diego gently put a hand over his own chest, closing his eyes. “Bless her soul, but I’m the only one who ended up living so long.”

“So what happened to her?”

Diego stopped playing his lute, looking to Azulita. “You’ll... hear it soon.” He took a small breath, closing his eyes. Taking a moment before he composed himself enough to continue, music starting back up.

---

17/10/1530

Today was a day like any other, Maria and I met in secret, I was playing my lute to signal where I was to her, and she would begin singing to let me know she arrived. Today we chose to sit by this old tree that was half-bent – it’s still around last time I was in the country.

We had gotten the wonderful idea to work on making our own song together – not only did we both get to practice with other people, but it meant that if anyone spotted us, we had an excuse ready to go if someone spot us together.

And we had just finished another practise of our duet together, and I was sitting on the branch of the tree, idly strumming my lute. “Your voice is perfect.” Of course it was, she was an angel in disguise as far as I cared. “I wish I could keep my fingers strumming along fast enough to keep up.”

She let out a small giggle at that. Before I could ask what was so funny she spoke. “I was just thinking the opposite, your skill with that lute is so… mesmerising… but my voice is so shrill in comparison.”

That was nonsense, and I made sure to tell her. “Your voice, it’s as perfect and wonderful as your face, I could spend all day just appreciating you and I’d be happy.”

She lets out a small bow in response, a faint blush behind her smile. “Thank you, but I really do need to work on my voice…”

I wasn’t thinking straight anymore, I just wanted to show her how wonderful she was. “I wish you would hear what I do.” So I hopped off the branch and began walking towards her.

She knelt down, smiling wide as she put a hand on my shoulder. “I wish the same thing, for you to hear the magical lute that I can.”

I didn’t answer her. I’m not even sure I realised what she said in the moment. I just gave her a kiss. My first kiss. Her first kiss.

And when it was over, we stared into each other’s eyes. I wish that moment lasted forever.

But reality caught up with us, and we both backed away. As much as we both wanted it… I knew I just made a mistake.

“I’m sorry.” She was already backing up. “But we can’t… My father wouldn’t-”

I was already backing up too, shaking my head. “I know. I- I need to go.” I picked up my lute and left.

---

04/06/1532

I remember practising with ma, playing the lute while she played on her flute, and we were toying around with two very different styles of music. I spotted Maria from the corner of my eye, passing by our front window with some man.

Ma must have noticed, because she stopped playing her trumpet to look at me. “What’s gotten you feeling down?”

I put my lute down and turned to her. “I… You remember Maria?”

“Si.”

I put a hand on the table, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up yet. “Well… I liked her. And she liked me.”

“Then go to her,” Ma suggested with a warm smile.

“I can’t. Not only does her father not approve, but she’s with someone else now.”

Ma nodded slowly. “I’m sorry to hear, my little Diego…”

“I never should have kissed her. At least then we’d still be talking, and-”

“You only live once, Diego.” I had to stop and blink. “Go to her. Be her friend. Keep her in your life.”

I had to think, letting in a deep breath. “But…” I wanted to take her advice. “… I don’t want to just impose myself on her life again.”

“Do you want to be left thinking about what could be?” As Ma looked me in the eye, I knew. I knew she was right. Even if I didn’t realise it then, I could feel it.

“… Okay. I’ll go speak to her.”

My Ma smiled warmly before she continued playing on her trumpet. I picked up my lute, ready to start playing once again.

“… Tlazohcamati.” I made sure to thank her in her native tongue – our native tongue.

Ma smiled wide, gently ruffling the fluff on my head. “Ahmitla.”

---

27/9/1532

I did work up the nerve to speak with Maria, and as awkward as I was expecting things to be, she just… hugged me. Told me she was glad we could still be friends. We even began planning to pick back up on the song we were making. I thought that was that.

Until a few months later. I was running late to Maria’s home for practice. I came in just in time to hear Maria yelling out in anger.

Before I could even knock, the man Maria was with came rushing out, hair drenched with water.

Maria came out shortly after with an empty cup, and her voice letting out far less graceful screaming. “That’s right! Run off and meet with your traída!”

Even her father was speechless about just how intense she could be. She turned around to march inside, only to gasp at the sight of me. “Oh! Diego! How… How long were you standing there?”

“I just got here…”

She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry you had to see that. He…” She couldn’t find the words to use, letting out another, more frustrated sigh.

“I got the gist of it.”

Maria shook her head slowly. “I’m not in the mood to practice today.”

“That’s fine, I can come back another day.”

I didn’t know why at the time, but Maria grabbed my shoulder, pulling me towards her house. “I’d still like the company if you’re able.”

I wasn’t sure what the best response would be, but evidently my continued silence was affirmation enough for her as she brought me inside.

Her father was less eager about that. “What is he doing in here outside of practice?”

“Lay off of Diego.”

“…” he glares at me right in the eyes. It was enough to make my skin crawl. “Don’t try anything you’ll regret.”

“Padre!” Maria stood in front of me, as if to shield me from the verbal assault. “Diego’s been good to me! Better than any man you’ve approved of!”

“You know his type.” He didn’t raise his voice, even as he continued to glare past Maria at me. He wasn’t going to yell at his daughter under any circumstances.

I knew better than to defend myself, and so I just stood there quietly.

“You’re right, I do!” Maria yelled back. “You’re the one who can’t seem to figure it out!”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Please, trust that-”

“I’ve trusted you my whole life, padre!” Maria yelled out. “Please, can you just trust me for once?!”

He closed his eyes, pinching his nose bridge as he slowly shook his head. Even he could tell he made a mistake with how he phrased it. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that he marched out of the room, grumbling under his breath to himself.

Maria let out a small sigh, kneeling down in front of me. “Diego. I know it’s not the best time, but…” She shook her head slowly. “I want to be with you.”

---

08/01/2009

“That’s so cute,” Mina said softly, eyes wide as she was listening. By this point she had forgotten it was about Diego’s immortality.

Diego let out a happy hum, closing his eyes. “It was. We got together, and things… went well. We had our hiccups, but slowly things changed. She went from being the prettiest woman I ever knew… to something more. It was only a few years until I knew that...”

---

16/04/1538

It was time. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Maria. I had gotten myself a special ring, and I was already on my way to her home.

But there was one thing I needed to do first.

My knock on the door was met by Maria’s father, who glared at me with vicious daggers. To say I got used to his disappointment is… an understatement. “What is it?”

“I needed to ask you something.” The door was slammed shut right in front of my face.

I knocked once again, the door swinging wide open. “Just hear me out. Please.”

I might have been used to it, but that didn’t change the fact that his glare was intimidating. “Make it quick.”

I dug into my pocket, peeking over to make sure Maria wasn’t listening. “I wanted to ask for your blessing for Maria’s hand in-”

SLAM!

Frankly, I was expecting that.

I knocked once more, and quickly dropped down onto my knees, wings fluttering behind myself.

When he swung the door open he was quick to anger. “You’re absolutely insane if you think I’ll ever-!” He stopped upon the sight of me.

“I swear on my life, I will treat Maria right, I will stay loyal to her, hasta que la muerte nos separe.” I lowered my head in front of him. “And if I ever break my oath, you can strike me where I stand. Please.”

The silence was suffocating. When I finally looked up, he continued to glare right at me, as if he was staring at my very soul. Just when I thought the worst was going to happen, he spoke.

“If you ever hurt my daughter, I will make sure you suffer a hundredfold in return. Are we crystal clear?”

“Yes, yes I understand!” I was already getting to my feet, wings fluttering in the sheer excitement. I’m going to propose to her. “Thank you so much, sir! I’m going to get ready right away!” With that my wings flutter some more, taking me off my feet and into the air. I had to get home, and quick!

---

17/04/1538

I knew exactly where to propose. It couldn’t be anywhere except the old, bent over tree – the same one we had our first kiss at. She was clueless as I brought her up there with me, eager to finish the date with a song I had written.

“Okay, okay, let’s hear what you’ve been working on.” Her giggle was sweet, perfectly matching the dress she had on as she sat down on the picnic blanket I laid out then and there for her.

Even though my voice wasn’t as perfect as hers, I knew it would be good enough for what I had. The lyrics were personal, for her ears and her ears alone. I played and played and played, but it was when I got to the last few lyrics did I start slowing down on my lute. I needed her to hear what I had to sing. One of my spare hands reached into my pocket, grabbing my special little gift in preparation.

“¡Oh María, nuestros corazones latiendo en sincronía!”

I then stop playing the lute entirely, holding out my hand for her. “¿Me harás el honor de casarte conmigo?” I opened up my hand to reveal the dazzling, sparkling ring, right in front of her eyes. The moment I proposed to her, I braced myself for both the best and the worst.

Fortunately, it took her no time to answer at all. “¡Sí, sí!” She immediately grabbed me and pulled me in for a close hug. She was already sobbing in joy as her grip against me was tighter than its ever been.

She was going to be my wife.

---

26/08/1538

We set it all up until it was perfect. Things went off without a hitch, and honestly? Even her father was happy to see her. She was beautiful, in an absolutely dazzling wedding dress. It was perfect.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

I bring Maria in close, giving her a kiss on the lips as our families celebrated. When I slowly broke the kiss, I smiled wide. “Every day, I wake up thinking about just how angelic you are…”

Maria smiled back. “You’ve always looked just as handsome as the day I met you…” She closed her eyes, letting out a pleased sigh. “… And just as young, now that I think about it.”

I was grinning. “It’s all because of you.”

---

21/08/1539

Today was the day me and Maria got to meet the first special light of our life. I was completely overwhelmed with joy at the sight of her, Maria holding her close to keep her warm.

“¡Tengo una hija...!” I dropped to my knees at the sight of her, tears welling up in my eyes. “I have a daughter…!”

To the world at large, she was an ordinary baby, nothing special at all about her birth. To me, it was one of the most important moments of my life.

It lasted for many years, but it didn’t take long until it started getting obvious that I wasn’t looking any different. Still, we counted our blessings, and I continued to enjoy my every day with Maria.

Until one day...”

---

28/11/1561

I remember getting shook away, very gently. I slowly opened my eyes in the darkness, looking over at my wife. “Mnngh…?”

“Diego…” Hearing Maria’s voice as hoarse and rough, I quickly lifted my head. “Diego, I don’t… I don’t feel good…”

I sat up, holding Maria close as I put my hand on the back of her head. “You’ve got a temperature. Lay down, let me-”

“No…” Maria croaked out. “I think I need a doctor...”

---

02/12/1561

Medicine wasn’t as good back then as it is now. But waiting for that doctor to speak to us was the most stressful wait I’ve ever had in my life, as Maria could do nothing but lean against me for support. And the news was more confusing.

“Maria, we haven’t figured out what you have just yet, but we’re working on it. However, we can confirm that Diego hasn’t caught anything.”

“Gracias a Dios,” Maria whispered out under her breath.

“In fact, Diego’s in unusually good health. You’re 49, yes?”

I nodded.

“As far as I can tell, everything about you seems to still be in your 20s. So much so, I’m not sure you’re even getting any older.”

“Alright, be serious with me.” Yeah I looked young, but this doctor was obviously full of it. How could he know for certain that I just wasn’t getting older?

“This could be a medical revolution. You need to come back for more tests, maybe we could help other people with this.”

“Enough about me, what about Maria?”

The doctor let out a sigh. “We’re going to look after her while we continue to work on what she’s got. We’ll let you know which room she’s in.”

“Gracias,” Maria managed to get out, smiling wide despite what was going on.

I just shook my head. “Right. Please, help her.”

“It’s okay, Diego,” she said with a warm smile. “You’re going to be able to hear my lovely voice-” her attempt at a joke was cut off with a fit of coughs, and I held onto her to make sure she wouldn’t fall over again.

A part of me knew Maria wasn’t going to get better. But I couldn’t accept that. I just couldn’t.

Even if I believed the doctor about me not getting older, that just slipped by my focus entirely with Maria by my side.

---

08/01/2009

“It would take some time before I realised what a blessing an immortal life would be. Long after Maria’s time.” Diego put the lute down, standing up. “But I’ll have time to share that another day. For now, I think it’s time we bring you back to your parents.”

There were complaints and grumblings from across the crowd, as various children were engrossed in the story.

Mina, however, just looked at Diego with utter curiosity. He and Maria sounded so sweet together, but how was he not still upset about Maria getting sick? It was so… so strange.

Mina continued to think to herself as she watched Diego pick up the butterfly girl. “Starting with you, my little Azulita~” He followed that up with a quick peck on the cheek.

“But you’re my dad!” Azulita giggled out, gently leaning against him.

“Then we already found him!” Diego chuckled back, holding Azulita quite close.

So Mina followed Diego, not taking long until she met back up with her mother – who picked her up in a hug. “Did you have a good time with Diego?”

“Yeah!” Mina said happily. “He told us about Maria!”

Mina’s mother nodded. “Maria?”

“Yeah! He married her and everything!”

She nodded in understanding, smiling wide. “Ah, I see!” Mina didn’t notice that her mom avoided asking any specific questions, she was just enamoured with the romantic story.

Diego took a seat as various families gathered around him, giving gifts that he modestly accepted. “From Mina, Maneul, and Camila Sánchez.” Mina’s antennae perked when she heard her name mentioned.

She watched as Diego unwrapped the gift, smiling wide as he picked up a lute from the present. “Gracias.” He didn’t say much on it, but he didn’t say much on any of the gifts – still acting modest despite it being his birthday.

The remaining few hours of the party were a good time, Mina had a good time eating dinner and playing with the other kids.

But all parties came to an end, and Mina was picked up by her mother as she leaned against her.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Diego said with a warm smile. “And for introducing me to your adorable little daughter.”

Mina let out a small giggle, smiling wide. “Bye bye, Diego!”

Diego smiled wide. “Adios, Mina.”

That was the last thing he said to her before her parents left with her, ready to drive back home.

---

It was late at night, and Diego was looking over his home, cleaning up in peace. Every bit of confetti, every plate with leftovers to clean up, every bit of silence was a reminder of all the people he got to meet up with today, some of whom he hasn’t gotten a chance to visit since last year.

It was in the midst of cleaning that he reached the lute Manuel and his family had gifted him. He gently strummed it with a relaxed sigh, all while he closed his eyes.

He knew he should continue focusing on cleaning up. But…

He started playing on it, thinking back to the oldest tune he knew. “Madre…”

The tune he grew up playing. “Padre…”

The tune he played with Maria all the time. “Mi querida María...”

Tears had begun flowing through his eyes. Yet, despite that, his smile remained the same as ever. “Bless your hearts, our time together was a precious gift.”

#Diego Molinero Sánchez #Mina Sánchez #Manuel Sánchez #Camila Sánchez #Maria Sánchez #The Immortal Tale of Diego Sánchez #Buggyverse #Azulita Sánchez

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fanofstuff01 · 1 year ago

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Yeahh.. A small piece of Highschool AU I managed to write. It doesn’t have Adamsapple, sadly, only a bit of holydust. If you don’t know about it, I suggest you to look at @things-arent-what-they-seem66 ‘s account. (a way to tag you bud heheh)

Enjoy! Also slight Emilute

Can you fucking believe all the work I wrote got deleted and I had to rewrite it?!

Adam took their usual, plain food on his tray with dissapointment. Someone needed to tell the fucker who decided these that they were preparing food for highschool kids and not for some criminals.

“Move faster!” He yelled at the line, receiving some swears but no movement. He sighed.

“Adam!”

He turned his head to the voice. Emily was waving happily at him, waiting with Lute. He smiled weakly and mouthed “go without me”. Though they didn’t.

“Hey girls.” He went straight to them when he finally got out of that damned line. He fist bumped Lute as best as he could and began walking.

“Why did you two wait for me?”

“Tolerating them is easier when you’re not alone.” Lute pointed at the Vee’s. Adam groaned, fucking wednesdays. “And Michael isn’t around.”

“Lucky prick.”

The certain group were talking about the same topic again. Adam cursed on the inside. Couldn’t they have a single lunch where no one ever mentioned Alastor?

“So… Oh. Adam. Lute.” Vox greeted them, though it didn’t sound like one. “We were just talking about how to get rid of Alastor. Why don’t you join us?”

“Suure.” Adam gave Lute “Get Em Out Of Here” eye and she understood the signal.

“Hey Em, can we talk?”

“Now?”

“Yes. It can’t wait.” Lute smirked playfully and took Emily’s hand.

“O-oh. Okay.” Emily flushed. Adam rolled his eyes in the background. Sure, this had to be the way Lute did it.

Adam sat down as the girls walked away, playing with his meal as he waited the group to threw another one of their crazy ideas. Sure, he wanted Alastor to have it worse, who wouldn’t but nowadays the things they suggested were no longer cruel, rather straight up illegal. Vox offered to burn him alive for fuck’s sake!

“So, as I was saying, we can’t physically hurt him. Any other ideas?”

“Getting him expelled?”

“I tried that.”

“Exposing him as a groomer?”

“How the fuck is your mind working Val?! No one would believe that!”

“Then what do YOU have in mind Voxxie?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“Weakening him socially?” Velvette looked up from her phone, popping a bubblegum.

“Oh how genious! And how are we doing that, Dollface?”

“By beating one of his friends? Then everyone would be away? Really Vox?”

“…”

“This is why you’re my favorite Vel.”

“Hey!”

“So we’re doing it?”

“We’ll need someone first. Hmmm… Then who could be that lucky fella… Hunter?”

“He’s pretty useful.” Val sipped his apple juice.

“You’re right. Morningstar?”

“Alastor? Caring about Morningstar eating shit? That’s a laugh. Also that guy is no joke. He can fuck us.”

“I meant the spoiled Princess.”

“Same ending. And don’t even RECOMMEND Nifty freak, Val.”

“Why would I?!”

“Who else, who else…” Vox tapped his chin, then his face lit up. “Aha! How about *Angel’s surname*? He is-“

“No.” Adam was listening them half ears until now, but he heard that surname loud and clear. And he didn’t like that it was being mentioned on their murder table.

“No, what?” Vox spoke, half annoyed-half angry. Adam would be dead fucking meat (in social life, probably) if he wasn’t at the same status as them.

“No, you are not touching him. I may not be a part of your twisted shit, but you will not be bringing him into this.”

“Oh, you’re letting Alastor humiliate us? Only for a street whore?” Vox’s voice took a more threatening turn. The other did not care the slightest.

“Does Alastor look like he cares for anyone to you? Please.”

“Pssh. It’s still a great way to get him to be left alone. You really need to let go of your stupid weakness for that slut.”

“I don’t plan to. And, I think if you want to keep your rep safe here, you really need to stop telling me what to do.”

“Fine, fine. God. Why are you this sensitive about him anyway?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Whatever. How about we..”

They kept their blood conversation going but Adam wasn’t listening anymore. His mind took him to a complete different moment. A pretty meaningless memory from his past, nothing much.

Adam wrinkled his nose as he took out a dead mouse from his bag. Cliché much, huh? It didn’t scare him, only disgusting a bit. He threw it away and returned to his food.

“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” A cheerful voice spoke. Adam lifted his head up.

A blonde boy he didn’t knew had picked this table to sit. What a wrong move.

“No?”

“Theen.. Can I?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“Thank you!” He exclaimed happily and sat down.

“Why did you chose to sit here in all places?” Maybe he should warn him.

“I don’t know. The other tables scared me, they are too loud! And you seem nice.”

Yep. He was definitely a new student.

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Nice name. Mine’s actually Antonio, but Dad said it’s Anthony now. When we moved here. Which is fine, I love Anthony. Use the one you like.”

“Ok-kay…” Adam wondered where he came from but couldn’t bring himself to ask. He thought of warning him for a second time but his thoughts were interrupted.

“Sorry, I talked too much right? My brother usually says this. Not like he loves anyone talking though. He’s boring. Mom says he’s lot like my father. Do you have any siblings?“

“I don’t.”

“I wish I didn’t too. I bet it must be amazing. But I would miss my twin sister, she gets a pass. I’d still be fine without my brother.”

“Why aren’t you sitting with her then?” God this boy was right, he talked too much and too fast it overwhelmed Adam’s brain.

Anthony bit his lip. “Dad said she’ll be in a different school. I don’t know why. He often makes weird decisions, it only makes both me and Molly sad.”

“Hm.” What else could Adam say? He was used to having nobody with him in this state.

I should definitely get him to go away.

“Sorry! I don’t realize it when I talk too much.”

“I don’t mind it.” Adam looked around. It should’ve been happening by now. “Listen-“

“You don’t?!”

“Yes but-“

A fit of giggles and laughs came from behind. Adam didn’t have to look to see who they were. Usual girl group, on their daily torture visit for Adam. How were they this sneaky?

“You found someone from your kind, Kadmon? From the trash can?”

“Go away!” He yelled.

“Okay weirdo! Have fun with your stupid Italian friend!” They walked off. Huh. It was quick. Adam returned to the now confused boy.

“Look, uh, Anthony. You should go.”

“What? Why?”

Adam rolled his eyes. Was he dumb?

“Trust me you wouldn’t want to be seen as my friend in here.”

“By who? Is that- Ooh.” It finally clicked in him. “Is that why you are sitting alone?”

“I-“

“Well I’m staying anyway.” He shrugged.

“Wait, what?” Adam was caught off guard by this.

“You said it was okay for me to talk! Barely anyone I know thinks like this! And I’m not letting go of someone who did, thank you.”

“Huh? I didn’t-“

A hand was pressed on his face, covering it slightly with mashed potatoes. “You already said it!”

“Hey!” He slapped his hand away, annoyed.

“Why are you this dead serious! Relax!” He giggled and went back to his seat.

“Oh, this is funny?” He threw a spoonful of broccolis at him. And couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped away when Anthony was absolutely disgusted by them.

“You’re laughing though!”

Adam was brought back to the present day. He shook his head, trying to focus on nothing but the meal infront of him.

————

I wrote this at 3 am sorry if some parts are stupid af.

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #holydust #hazbin hotel #high school au

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