#BANISHED TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL

[ratatatastic]

cats spotted at moxies (ft lauderdale) again...oh gosh

6.30.24 (x)

[neonhellscape]

been thinking about marazhai and pasqal still so have some more of these freaks. theyre deranged, gay and cool with murder [also gay about murder], so if youre not then consider the keep reading button as salvation

"My dear Magos…" Marazhai cooed, draping himself across his shoulders. The beginnings of his attempts to charm- effect ever contradicting the intent, worsened by clawed fingers flicking his magnifying lenses in a sequence that never added enough force to engage them. "Might I trouble you for a little attention today?"

To anyone else, he would simply say 'no', throw them off and continue with his work, leaving them to dismiss themselves. With a heavy sigh and an exasperated upward glance, pleading with the Omnissiah to make this quick, he turned his head to look at him. "How long?"

Apparently offended by the response, he huffed, removing himself from across his shoulders. "I will leave you, I know when I am not wanted."

"Marazhai-" he reached out with a mechadendrite, coiling it about his waist to draw him back before he could get too far. A little more frantically than usual, he gripped it like he wished to tear it from himself- unusual. "That was not the message I had intended to convey."

"Nevertheless, there it was. You have work to occupy your attention-"

"Abnormal level of… neediness is being observed."

Once again the rather obvious statement met a negative reception, a glare cast at the floor and an uncharacteristic frown striking his face- one he twisted in an attempt to form a sneer. It simply made him seem more miserable. More unnerved.

Reaching to him, he stroked his hand along his cheek tenderly, careful not to snag his earring as he swept his hand to cradle the side of his head. "If you are needy, I am willing to attend."

With the attitude of a petulant child, put on to hide a terrified wavering to his voice and failing, he snapped, "I am not needy."

"Do you no longer wish for my focus?"

A shove, then sharp nails prising at the metallic tendril coiling around his waist. Failing to break through the plating, growing frustrated- frantic, claustrophobic- enough to strike at it with a shout as it refused to yeild. Turning on him then, pupils narrow like a human's might be in the sunlight, lashing out. With another tendril capturing his wrists and clamping down on them like cuffs, he was stopped with abnormal ease, resulting in a furious scream punctuated by spit and a single tear.

Wiping the saliva from his cheek with disgust, he sighed. Drawing him in even as he struggled to get away, hugging around his waist, squeezing up under his shoulder blades- feeling his face barge past the robes, metal and tubation to locate the small section of skin present at his upper shoulder, teeth tearing into it. Acting against instinct, he prevented the block that would usually diminish the pain; following this, he prevented the protocols he'd usually employ to keep from feeling a deeper emotional hurt. Indulging in them- worsening them in any way he might, tearing into his own nerves and feeding thought processes that drove him into a carefully balanced misery. Feeling the teeth sinking in deeper, panting breaths against his skin, that lithe body pressing in closer to back him into the table and then closer still, as if it might attempt to meld with his.

In slow, lightly scratching increments, he worked his hand through the fine hair at the back of his neck and up to bury in the strands just below the lowest loop of the leather tie, claw releasing his hands and near immediately feeling the nails bite into his lower back, seeking out the nerves that so often gave him aches. Raking into them, probing them like needles. Even as he arched and thrashed, they pressed further against eachother. A rare tear slid from his eye as he grieved. Knowing the cruelty of the Drukhari staying here, of him being deprived the very things that kept his soul intact and madness at bay.

Wounded with desire to alleviate all he could, and denying himself any goodness from the want- twisting it, longing to be capable of more until it ached sorely in his chest. Watching as those very feelings soothed as they radiated across.

The teeth removed themselves from his shoulder. A barely whispered voice, spoken so closely he could feel the trembling tones grazing his neck. "I can feel her gaze."

"Elaborate."

Staring up at him with wide eyes, pupils mere pinpricks, flicking back and forth across his face, his body, the room- finally pressing back into his neck. Marazhai's voice stayed low, trembling, whispered into his skin as if it may somehow grant privacy in the empty room, clutching him closer. "I can hear the hearts beating through the walls and I am forced to leave them be. She hears mine- she has no such constraint. She- She will devour my very being, I- there is no escaping her, she is everywhere-"

"What do you need?"

"Suffering. Blood- I need blood. Agony- no, misery and- oh anything, anything to take her gaze from me-" his voice ripped into a high pitched screech as he collapsed to his knees, forehead driving into the edge of his chest plate with enough force it would surely bruise later. Gripping him with hands shaking so terribly it rattled them both, heaving breaths at such a pace he might suffocate himself with how little air reached his lungs before being exhaled.

As the hollowness began to open in his chest at the vision, he initiated the dampening procedures- knowing the severance would create less distress than the hollow absence he tended toward when he had slipped too far within his own emotional range. Weighing up the choice in milliseconds yet unable to listen to the proposed sense, he made a choice of indulgence. "It is within my powers to provide this for you."

A disbelieving tension, wide eyes snapping back to him with the hesitant desperation of a starved beast finally offered a carcass. Somehow paralysed by it, the concept it might be torn away more unbearable than the hunger. "You will?"

"You belong to this unit. No claim shall be staked by other units, no matter their proposed power- I will drive her focus from you. I will provide for your requirements. Walk with me- we will locate for you a fine indulgence."

Following his every motion with the dedication of a fanatic, he initially remained on his knees as he trailed along on the path to the axe, finally rising to his feet. Ghosting the blade with twitching, hesitant fingers. "You- but the Rogue Trader-"

"Acknowledgement of orders. Refusal of compliance; grounds: needless suffering contradictory to intent of ban. Acceptance of consequence."

"They will hate you- they- you will be in danger, you- I-"

Grasping his wrist, he dragged him from the room, feeling waves of resistance and urgency alternating which direction he was pulled- away or to. With his emotions dulled, he thought through his biased logic- and the manner it was balanced against the biased orders. Assuring himself with the arguments to pose upon confrontation.

-

He knew the spectacle to generate. To create a tremendous high then a crushing, soul-draining low- a drain that would pour directly to Marazhai himself and become vitality.

Arms wide, he held his axe aloft, calling those programmed from birth to recognise an interspersed chiming that marked the beginning of a redemption service. The holier-than-thou and anxious guilty swarming him first, whispers began to form as the clamp about Marazhai's wrists and his frantic demanour were seen. Presumption- overseen by the blessed mother of ignorance, they began flitting back and forth, calling in the gossip, the sadist, the arrogant. Some turned away- others attempted to reach and snatch pieces of Drukhari armour, or the long, fine strands of his hair. Hands bound and mind distracted, he was unable to drive them away.

With a soft sound in binharic, he interrupted himself- a sound used often to indicate a call for patience. One of many sounds he had cared to educate himself of yet was incapable of replicating with his limited vocal range.

Patience. There were only twenty or so here, yet more were coming. Patience.

Almost at once, a swarm attended- rumour of the xenos dragged along by a Magos bringing the most wonderful of selection. Prey who thought themselves predators. Hiding behind him, imagining themselves holding the axe, yet if it were to be offered would refuse.

Turning to face Marazhai, he sought his approval. Watching him scouring the crowd, only distracted when someone else sought to rip a souvenier from him. Over and over, carrion feeders picking at a meal that they had presumed was dead by presence of a Magos.

To prevent risk of misinterpretation, he dragged Marazhai to the ground by his wrists, uttering another binharic sound- stay. Seeing his palms pressed flat as acceptance of the order, the claw released it's grip, permitting him to walk away. Pacing a slow circle, looking into the crowd for the first to volunteer themselves.

A brute of a man, snatching his hair and spitting in his face. Large, slow, the form of a servitor without the redeeming qualities of steel- an optimal target. As he lifted the axe in preparation to swing, he found the brute smiling, grabbing at Marazhai's head to stretch out his neck, offering it up in the role of the executioner's block.

Satisfaction bloomed through his neural circuits, the knowledge that there would be few better fitting and a no less indulgent way to begin. The crowd looking on with an eagerly paused breath, he called out to the machine spirit, feeling the approving energy crackling through his true flesh and locking his grip upon the handle.

Blinking stupidly, the man stared at him. Attempting to speak- mouth a vision of brutality he himself had felt once, the memory of pain radiating through the cleft that still split from his cheekbone to his throat. Yet this struck deeper than he had felt, blood from a body split in half pouring over Marazhai. Basking in it, he clutched the man over himself until he went limp, then casting him aside. Baptised in claret, he strained to turn where he knelt, delight and adoration snarled on his fine features.

Turning, he sliced the axe through the crowd, taking down three. As two approached from behind, he speared them both with the blades tipping his lower mechadendrites, turning to ensure their lives would be forfeit- a blur shot past him, Marazhai snatching the stronger of the two and throwing them to the ground, teeth ripping into their throat.

Sinking into the battlefield haze of automation, he permitted countless calculations from his true flesh to guide him safely through the bloodshed, capturing the emotional sensations to be revelled in separately from his choices.

-

Much as a content cat might, Marazhai laid himself back in the gore, arching his back in a stretch that squeezed his thighs and reached his hands high above his head, fingers sweeping through a small pool of blood that remained trapped between various bodies. Peace finally settled on his face in the form of a smirk, he looked over slowly, faintly high off endorphins. Reaching to summin him to his bed of occassionally twitching bodies. Complying only to an extent, he kicked a limb out of his way to stand at the edge of the gore, content to lean upon his axe for support and rest standing. To sit upon the floor after such exertion, especially accompanied by the earlier damage to his lower back, was to require assistance in getting up. A shame he felt no intent to advertise in such a public space.

Seeing him remain standing, Marazhai moved from his comfortable spot with his belly low enough to draw further through the mess staining the floor, nearing him. Hitching his robes up in one hand to bundle just above his knee, cheek pressing to the smooth metal of his shin. Rubbing against it, clutching his leg close in adoration- on smelling the blood that had been smeared by his own hand, licking it up.

Resting a hand on his forehead, he felt the urge to smile, speaking softly, "Requesting confirmation: improvement?"

"Yes, my dear Pasqal, much improvement," he purred, cheek dragged up to his inner thigh before he looked up, appearing somewhat amused by the robes getting in his way.

Chasing off his embarrassment and blush, he pushed his head away slightly, smoothing off the cloth of his skirts. "Do you have further need of this unit?"

Arms wrapped about his waist, he was dragged down suddenly- axe cast aside, he caught himself on his mechadendrites, feeling the additional weight of the body beneath him still clinging. Loud, delighted laughter was pressed against his stomach, a few little jolts as Marazhai bounced to try and drag him the last way down. "Must you resist me? With the colour of your garb, none would notice any quantity of staining!"

"Stains do not concern me."

"Ah- the frail state of your self correction procedure," he teased, reaching once again to those nerves in his lower back. Pricking them, causing him to jolt just enough to drop. With a slight wheeze at the weight striking his chest, Marazhai grasped his face, leaning in close. "Does this not feel worth it, Pasqal? Besides, with such fine instruction I am capable of repairs-"

"Little above novice."

"Intermediary! Such high praise- why, with such decadence you have provided me, I might see it fit to bed you for the next week-"

"Denied. Circuitry unable to cope with quantity of intrusion implied. Significant enough damage upon single instance."

"You underestimate the skill of your student. When sufficiently motivated, I am quite capable. And you certainly are-" he inhaled deeply, casting his widened pupils upward with a low, pleased growl "-motivating."

[pegging-satan]

The likelihood of Chuuya being the next PM boss and Kunikida guaranteed to be the ADA president,,, that bitch Dazai is living the y/n wattpad life

[caterpillarinacave]

Some of you weren’t obsessed with Tybalt Capulet and, boy, does it show.

[npd-future-star]

IS THERE NOT A SINGLE PERSON ON THIS GODFORSAKEN PLANET WHO FUCKING RESPECTS ME

[thawthebeez]

dan and phil games' recent video... connections or whatever... "we've never fucked on youtube" WHEN I TELL YOU I PAUSED THE VIDEO, GOT UP, AND LEFT MY HOUSE TO BUY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ICE CREAM.

[pucksandpower]

Blackmail Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you love your boyfriend more than life itself but who can blame you for keeping a folder of all the blackmail material he has given you over the years … just in case

You hear a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. “Y/N! Come quick!” Charles yells.

You rush over to find him standing on top of the couch, a look of sheer terror on his face. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He points a shaky finger at the floor. “Sp-spider!”

You look down to see a tiny little spider no bigger than a blueberry crawling across the hardwood. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of your brave Formula 1 driver boyfriend absolutely losing it over this tiny critter.

“Really? That’s what all the fuss is about?” You don’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“Don’t laugh!” He says indignantly. “It’s a monster! Kill it, please!”

You kneel down and take a closer look at the offending arachnid. “Aww, it’s just a little jumping spider,” you say. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Charles makes a strangled sound of disbelief. “Cute? It’s a beast from the depths of hell! I want it gone!”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “You race cars at over 300 kilometers per hour, but you’re scared of a little spider barely bigger than a piece of lint?”

“Yes! Spiders are my worst fear. Now stop teasing me and get rid of it!” He gives you his best pleading look from his perch on top of the couch.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, grabbing an empty glass from the coffee table. You gently trap the spider under it and slide a piece of cardstock underneath, trapping the spider safely.

“Is it dead? Please tell me you killed it,” Charles asks hopefully.

“Of course not, I’m just going to let it go outside. Spiders are good, they eat other bugs.”

Charles visibly shudders. “Well get it out of here! I don’t want to see it ever again.”

You carry the spider carefully to the sliding door and release it on the balcony. When you come back inside, Charles is still standing on the couch looking suspiciously around at the floor.

“The horrible beast has been banished, you can come down now,” you say.

He hesitantly steps back down onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s gone? You didn’t just give it free reign to run wild in the apartment?”

You try and fail to hold back a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. Your life is no longer in peril.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t funny! Spiders are evil creatures with too many legs and eyes. They should not exist.”

You go over and wrap your arms around him comfortingly, though you’re still struggling not to giggle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But you have to admit, it’s kind of silly that someone who races cars at death-defying speeds could be so terrified of a tiny spider.”

He huffs indignantly. “It’s a completely rational fear. They’re all legs and eyes and they move so fast and erratically and some of them can be venomous. Absolutely horrifying.”

You smile indulgently and kiss his cheek. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll protect you if any more evil spiders invade our home.”

“Thank you,” he says, finally relaxing into your arms now that the threat has passed.

But you just can’t resist teasing him a little more. “It was just so small!”

He pulls back and gives you an unamused look. “You’re not going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”

You grin impishly. “Letting my big macho boyfriend stand on the couch and scream because of a teeny tiny spider? Yeah, probably not gonna let you live this one down for a while.”

Charles groans. “This is so unfair. The guys will never let me hear the end of it if they find out.”

You pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that Charles Leclerc is terrified of itsy bitsy spiders.”

And if you happened to save evidence of his freak out just in case? Well … it’s not technically telling anyone unless you share the video.

***

You can’t help but grin as Charles paces back and forth in your New York hotel room, running his hands through his hair in distress.

“Chill out babe, I’m sure the airline will find your luggage soon,” you try to soothe him.

Charles whips around, eyes wide. “Chill out? How can I chill out when my La Mer is missing? Do you have any idea how long it took me to perfect my skincare routine?”

You stifle a laugh at his dramatics. “I mean, it’s just skincare products. Not the end of the world.”

“Just skincare products?” Charles looks at you in horror. “That’s like saying a Ferrari is just a car! La Mer is the cream of the crop, the holy grail of skin care! My face needs it to survive!”

You can’t hold back your grin anymore. “Wow, didn’t realize I was dating such a high maintenance diva,” you tease.

Charles huffs, crossing his arms. “I am not high maintenance, I just have discerning taste and an appreciation for quality.”

“Uh huh, sure,” you say. “Is that why you made us stop at three different Whole Foods on the way here from the airport until you found your favorite protein shake?”

“That is completely different,” Charles protests. “My skin is very sensitive, I can’t just use any old drugstore products.”

You laugh and pull Charles onto the couch next to you. “You’re cute when you pout.”

He tries to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smile. “I can’t help it, I’m freaking out! Do you know how dry airplanes are? My skin is going to be a flaky desert by tomorrow.”

You run a hand through his hair. “Aww poor baby. However will you cope without your six hundred dollar moisturizer?”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “You joke, but this is serious stuff. Do you want a boyfriend with wrinkles and acne?”

“I mean, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone,” you say, kissing his cheek.

He gasps dramatically. “Don’t even joke about that! I’ll be twenty seven soon, wrinkle prevention needs to start now.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Most twenty seven year olds aren’t this worried about wrinkles. But I guess Formula 1 drivers really are high maintenance.”

“With good reason! We can’t have crows feet interfering with our vision,” Charles says matter-of-factly.

You give him a look. “You’re just making things up now.”

Charles holds your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “Mon amour, you must understand. Athletes age in dog years. We need anti-aging products just to keep up.”

You burst out laughing, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it!”

Charles grins cheekily. “But you love me anyway.”

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. “Yeah I do. Even if you are a high maintenance diva.”

Charles puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive! My skincare is obviously very important to me.”

You snuggle up next to him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me all about this super special moisturizer.”

His eyes light up. “Well first of all it contains like crushed up diamonds or something. And they freeze each jar before shipping it to keep the ingredients ultra fresh.”

You make a mental note to Google this later, since it sounds completely absurd that diamonds would be an effective skincare ingredient. Though with Charles, you can never be too sure.

“Uh huh, diamonds. That’s totally normal,” you say, playing along.

“Exactly! And the founder makes sure each jar charges under the energy of a full moon before it’s sold. It’s really an intricate artisanal process.” Charles sighs longingly.

You smile and kiss his pouting lips. “You’re cute. I promise your skin will survive one night without magic moon diamonds.”

Charles snuggles against your shoulder. “I know, I know. Skincare is just part of my routine, it makes me feel relaxed and put together. And smelling like citrus blossoms is an added bonus.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I get that. Hopefully the airline finds your stuff soon. But in the meantime, want me to see if anyone sells La Mer nearby?”

Charles perks up. “Ooh yes, let’s check! I saw they have a Dior down the block too.”

You laugh and take his hand. “Of course they do. Come on, let’s go spoil you with new overpriced skincare products until yours turn up.”

***

You walk into the kitchen and see your boyfriend standing at the counter, a pile of uncooked spaghetti next to him. He takes a portion in his hand … which he proceeds to snap in half before dropping it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.

“Charles! What are you doing?” You exclaim in shock.

He turns to you, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just making sure the pasta will fit better in the pot.”

“But you can’t break spaghetti before cooking it!” You say incredulously. “That’s like a cardinal sin in Italy!”

Charles laughs. “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. The pasta will cook just fine this way.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Il Predestinato is out here breaking pasta. Do you have any idea how offensive Italians would find this?”

“I’m sure they will survive the absolute tragedy of some broken spaghetti,” he jokes.

You nod to your phone. “It’s a good thing I’m recording this for posterity then. The whole country needs to know about this travesty.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. “What? No, don’t record me!” He reaches for your phone but you spin away, giggling.

“The people of Italy deserve to know the truth about their hero!” You declare dramatically.

“Mon ange, please give me the phone,” he pleads, trying to grab your arm. You dance out of reach.

“Truth and justice will prevail!” You continue recording as Charles chases you around the kitchen island.

“Come on, delete it! This could start an international incident if it gets out!”

You pause to catch your breath, phone held high. “An international inchident? Wow, look at you being all dramatic now. I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I didn’t think you’d actually record it as blackmail material! Please, mon amour, I’m begging you, delete the video.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm I don’t know … this seems like prime viral video content. Scuderia Ferrari Driver Destroys Pasta, Enrages Italy. Can you imagine the views it would get?”

“Y/N!” Charles lunges forward and tackles you onto the living room couch. You shriek with laughter as he tries to pry the phone from your grip.

“Noooo my video!” You yell dramatically.

Charles pins your arms above your head with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other. “Give it to me!”

You squirm underneath him. “Never!”

He leans down until his face is just inches from yours. “What’s it going to take for you to delete that video, huh?” His voice is low and gravelly.

You catch your breath, hyper aware of his body pressing against yours. “I don’t know, what are you offering?” You ask cheekily.

Charles brushes his nose against yours. “What if I made you your favorite dinner tomorrow night?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. “That’s all I get for deleting potential internet gold? I don’t think so.”

He moves even closer, his lips just barely grazing your cheek. “Okay, what if I take you out for a nice date too? Dinner and a show at the opera, your choice.” His breath is warm against your skin.

You close your eyes for a second, affected by his closeness but not ready to give in yet. “Tempting, but I think this video is worth even more than that.”

Charles makes a small noise of frustration before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You melt into it for a blissful moment before pulling back slightly.

“Well that’s certainly a start,” you murmur, your heart racing.

Charles lets go of your hands to cradle your face tenderly. “Mon cœur, please delete the video. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You search his eyes intently. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirms fervently before kissing you again, deeper this time.

You wrap your arms around his neck and give yourself over to the kiss. After several heated moments, you gently break away.

“Okay fine, I’ll delete the video on one condition.”

Charles looks at you warily. “Name it.”

“You have to let me drive your Ferrari.”

Charles groans and drops his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You laugh and pat his head consolingly. “Those are my terms.”

He lifts his head to grin ruefully at you. “You drive a hard bargain. But for the sake of Italian nonnas everywhere, I accept your deal.”

You lift up your phone and pretend to wipe away a tear. “The souls of broken spaghetti can finally rest easy.”

Charles just shakes his head before leaning down to silence you with another deep kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, you quietly move the video into an encrypted folder. After all, you never know when it might come in handy.

***

You raise an eyebrow as you watch Charles carefully pour Red Bull into his Ferrari water bottle. “Do you buy those in bulk?” You ask with a laugh.

Charles gasps in exaggerated outrage. “Buy from the enemy? Never!” He screws the cap on tightly and gives you a sly grin. “Max and I have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” You echo in surprise. This is news to you.

Charles nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yes, a secret trade deal. I provide him cappuccinos from the Ferrari cafe and Max supplies me with as much Red Bull as I need.”

You burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You and Max smuggle each other contraband caffeinated drinks?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Charles glances around furtively, but the motorhome is empty except for the two of you. “It must remain a secret.”

Still chuckling, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “So the great Charles Leclerc betrays his team for energy drinks. The Tifosi would riot if they knew!”

Charles winces dramatically. “Do not say such things! It is not betrayal, merely … creative problem solving.” He takes a long swig of Red Bull and grins. “The taste of the enemy is sweet.”

“I can’t believe you drink that stuff. And I can’t believe Max is your supplier!” You shake your head in amusement. “Does anyone else know about this arrangement of yours?”

“Only Lando. We needed a neutral third party to broker the deal and make the exchanges.” Charles leans in with a playful smile. “So do not be getting any ideas about exposing our scheme, yes?”

You mimic zipping your lips. “My lips are sealed … as long as you share some of that!”

Charles pretends to think about it for a second before breaking into a grin and handing you the bottle. The carbonated liquid fizzes pleasantly on your tongue, the familiar flavor mingling with the surrealness of drinking Red Bull from a Ferrari bottle. You take one more sip then hand it back to Charles.

“Just don’t let Fred or Christian find out,” you warn teasingly. “Pretty sure this counts as treason.”

Charles just laughs. “They turn a blind eye. The team knows I perform best when properly caffeinated.” He caps the bottle and adds, “But no more for you, ma belle. I only have a limited supply!”

You pout dramatically. “Fine, keep your precious Red Bull. I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone what’s really in your water bottle!”

The can of Red Bull that Charles rushes to give you tastes even sweeter than usual.

[evilminji]

Okay... we KNOW that Justice League Dark is actually Competent at their Jobs.

Can banish most Spooks back home with out pausing to look up from their sandwich.

But you know what they HAVEN'T done? Dealt with the fuckin American Government. And all the complexe back-stabbery and "not my depart"ing that entails. The covering of asses and silencing of whistle blowers. Smearing of character. Just... the general BULLSHIT, legal and political, necessary to get those Ecto Acts consigned to the Depths of Hell where they belong.

Amity? Is fine.

Big ol Lair. Nothing nefarious getting in, few people ever bothering to go out. But like... they'd kind like THE OPTION, you know? Kids going to elite colleges. Jobs in other cities. That sorta thing! Maybe even new blood!

Stagnation feels too... Zone.

But they can't exactly FORCE the guys to focus on this one thing. And? They don't exactly... trust? Them? It's not personal. They're just not ghosts. Well, one is. But you can't ask ONE hero to handle all of that by himself! That's just unreasonable! Mr. Brand, while dashing and accomplished, has only so many hours in the day!

But what do DO???

...........well.......... Youngblood has an idea?

What if we annoyed them?

(How bout now? How bout now? How bout now? How bout now? How bout no-?)

Ooooooh~? Says the collectively gathered Ghost Regulars of Amity. Yes, that INCLUDES DANNY. They are INTRIGUED! Ghosts DO enjoy a good haunting. A light bit of Mischief, now and then. Some troublemaking! If you will~

I mean... Muses the resident Stick in the Mud, Phantom. As long as we all agree to some Ground Rules first...

Just until the finally Do Their JOBS, of course.....

The giggling is both bone chilling and filled with plotting. And so! The campaign of ghostly Minor To Moderate Inconveniences, begins! THINK FAST! *appears before Constantine, drops a LITERAL kid in his lap (as in a baby goat), in a "careful, I'm anxious!" Vest, then disappears.* The goat? Starts trying to eat his shirt. And is non magical.

It's the fifth random but slightly difficult to get rid off object or animal, dumped on him in the last two weeks. All juuuuust barely past that threshold where they're precious enough, he wouldn't feel comfortable handing um to some rando and walking away. GDI.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe

[thehumanwiki]

hi and welcome to

✨bullshit that has ACTUALLY happened somewhere in the Pokémon franchise✨

-a teenaged boy runs away from home because of his abusive mom only to join a crime gang funded by his abusive mom.

-the player character is given a smartphone by and with direct contact to God.

-a man cosplaying God (the same God you got a phone from) attacks you with a demon banished to another dimension.

-a suicide cult led by an evil snowflake kills like one hundred other protagonists.

-there is an entire elemental typing consisting of abused and evil Pokémon that is super effective against everything else.

-the player falls into an alternate world and one of their friends is immediately arrested for playing sports.

-in the thrilling sequel, a bunch of ghosts kidnap children in their amusement park in the Shadow Realm.

-now that I think about it there are like three different games where the player character starts by falling from the sky.

-the protagonist of the TV adaptation has died like seven times, been crucified in Paris, watched several apocalypses, and has watched SO many people die in front of him, and I don’t think he’s brought it up like, ever.

-in one game, you can go on a crusade to brutally conquer the entire continent.

-the player of one game is part of a time loop caused by a magic turtle that indirectly kills one of their friend’s mother. Or father. Depends on the version.

-the player’s adoptive father is possessed by the personification of hate and sends them directly to Hell, then tries to do it again when they get out.

-the mafia’s plan for getting their boss back after he left is to violently hijack a radio station and ask really nicely.

-a space agency’s plan for stopping a meteor form colliding with the earth is to open a wormhole to another dimension. this plan is stopped by a woman in a torn cape who destroys their equipment and robs them.

-the protagonist’s father had a godlike clone fuse his consciousness with a mouse, and fights a man who fused his own consciousness with an alien.

-the one a cult leader chose to be king of his new religion is an abused autistic boy with green hair and wearing a baseball cap.

-you literally rob people’s Pokémon in one game and you’re still the good guy. …is there a gender neutral version of “good guy?”

And now for a BONUS ROUND!

✨shit that has gone down in the Pokémon manga adaptation alone!✨

-terrorists blow up an ENTIRE port city!

-one protagonist spent two years trapped in a Dream Realm™.

-you think that’s bad? TWO protagonists are trapped in the depths of space for like six months!

-you think THAT’S bad?! FIVE protagonists are turned into stone for an indefinite time period!

-a little orphan girl is hypnotized and trapped in a suit of armor.

-they crucify the gym leaders???

-one boy is whipped in the face with a chain used to subjugate the Gods Of Time And Space and he’s literally fine.

-a father punches his son in the face and hurls him down a staircase. The American translation censors this as a lightning strike.

-this same son fell into the ocean because of an earthquake like five chapters after he was introduced.

-one of the current protagonists is basically Wednesday Addams.

-two protagonists were kidnapped by birds and raised by a supervillain.

-two villains try to destroy the environment of an entire country, cause an apocalypse, and are stopped by being trapped in a flying car which crashes.

-a mysterious supervillain saves them— SOMEHOW— and makes them fight to the death for a suit of armor. The one that survives causes the apocalypse AGAIN but dies.

-they both get brought back from Hell to save the world, and after that’s over, they turn to dust and go back to Hell.

-the supervillain who saved them the first time also summons like ten gods and dips out, never to be seen again.

In other words Pokémon is weird (affectionate).

[redr0sewrites]

I just saw a Fanart of sad luci after his plans got reject by heaven and good lord I need some fluff. The look on his face was heartbreaking for me so I was wondering if ypu could write A lucifer x gn reader where reader comforts him and/or when he gets banished reader jumps after him?

Sorry if this is too much

AAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! i took my own little spin on this, so i hope u like it!!! also pls share the fanart nonnie, id love to see it!!!

🥀Cw: angst to fluff, Lucifer's trauma, crying

it had been so many years, and yet lucifer still remembered the feeling of falling. it was cold and dark and endless, with only the sounds of his own screams and flailing wings to accompany him as he descended from the heavens, hurdling down into the depths of hell. all he had wanted was to give the humans free will, but this is what they chose to do with it? it crushed lucifer's very soul, breaking all the resolve and respect he had for heaven in one fatal stab. with bleeding wings and a broken heart, he swore to forget about heaven, to move on. and yet, nights like these still caused him endless grief. however, lucifer had a hope, a light in the tunnel of darkness he had fallen into so long ago. he found you years ago, a mere sinner, and had been swept away almost instantaneously. despite being in hell, you seemed to shine brighter than anyone lucifer had ever met, and he was captivated instantly. everything about you was just so precious, and he loved you with all of his soul. but, with that love came worry. and worry turns into anxiety, which turns to fear, which turns to pain, all of which led to the distraught state he was in now.

soft, broken sobs accompanied by the rushing shower woke you from your sleep. it was late at night, too late to be awake- at least in your opinion, and the fiery skies of hell casted an eery red light through the window. turning in your shared bed, you immediately noticed the absence of your lover and sat upright, the exhaustion fleeing your body as you surveyed the room around you. the night was still, but not silent, and you heard it again. the sound of soft, muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. the shower was running as well, and light seeped from the crack beneath the door. it was apparent that lucifer was in there, but why he had decided to shower at such a time was beyond your understanding. standing up, you approach the door to bring your husband back to bed. with each step closer, your concern grows tenfold.

"luci?" you whisper, knocking on the door gently. immediately the sobs halt and you hear a broken gasp from inside the room. "lucifer, are you okay? if you don't respond i'm coming in," you murmur, slowly turning the door knob. with no response, you opened the door and stepped inside. you were greeted by the sight of lucifer, crouching on the floor of the shower, wings unfurled and shaking. from what you could see of his face that wasn't shielded by white feathers, tears trickled down his cheeks, and his eyes were puffy from crying. he turned away from you as you entered, curling into himself and pressing his wings tightly against his body. the shower was still running, the water cascading over his bare skin and spraying you slightly as you stepped closer. "luci.." you whisper, gently stepping even closer until you were practically in the shower. "please, i- i don't want you to see me like this..." his voice sounded miserable and he still refused to even look at you. the shower was starting to spray you now, and you were shocked to find that it was cold. you flinched in surprise, but stepped inside anyway. in one swift movement you turn the shower off, and a painful quiet floods the room in the wake of the water. the silence is deafening, and lucifer seems to be shrinking in on himself every passing second.

"lucifer.. what happened?" you weren't sure what to do, where to go, whether or not you should reach out and comfort him or step away. all you knew was that you couldn't leave him alone. lucifer took in a shaky breath, water droplets trickling off his wings as they unfurled ever so slowly. "... i don't know," he admitted, burying his head in his hands. "i was just taking a shower but for some reason the water just-" he paused, hiccuping and shivering softly before continuing. "it just ran cold- and i felt like i was falling again, i couldn't see you and i just-" he let out a defeated sigh, and his wings began to shake again. you watched as his shoulders began to quiver, and you realized he was crying again. "im sorry, i shouldn't- i shouldn't be telling you all of this, its foolish," lucifer whispered huskily. "i still think about falling, and everything that happened with heaven, even though i shouldn't. but every damn day i fear that theyre going to take you away, that- that they will try to crush all i have left.." lucifer began to shiver, and you kneeled down next to him on the shower floor. "lucifer, look at me." you whisper gently but firmly, and he slowly raises his head. his blonde hair is a mess, its soaked and ruffled and sticking to his forehead. his eyes are rimmed with red, and his cheeks and nose are flushed as tears and freezing water dry on his face. his gaze still refuses to meet yours, but at least you know hes listening.

"lucifer, nothing is going to happen to us. heaven doesn't want change, and heaven doesn't want war. we're safe here, and i'm always here for you. if anything happens, we will handle it together, but i need you to know that i'm on your side, okay?" lucifer nods, his watery eyes shifting to meet your gaze. you open your arms and he accepts your invitation, curling into your embrace and engulfing you both in his wings. you're now properly soaked, but you couldn't care less.

you don't know how long you spent sitting on the shower floor as lucifer rocks and cries in your arms, but you don't mind a bit. he's calmed down now, but you still card your hands through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "why don't we go back to bed, hm?" you whisper, and he nods. you both stand, and lucifer heads into your bedroom to get dressed. you follow suite, your clothes fully soaked and practically freezing. after swiftly changing into a warmer set of pajamas, you beckon lucifer to bed. he meekly joins you, embarrassed at his own emotional state. you both settle into bed, wrapping you arms around eachother ss you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "i'm... sorry about all that, and for waking you," he mumbles, and you shush him. "its okay darling, i promise. i'm always on your side, and im always here if you need me," you hum, pressing an appreciative kiss to his adams' apple. lucifer chuckles, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tight. "the feeling is mutual my dear. i am... so incredibly lucky to have you. now, sleep well, okay?" lucifer whispers into thr darkness, rubbing the words i love you over and over into your back with his thumb. you mumble something unintelligible, your breathing evening out as sleep begins to overwhelm you. "mm... 'night, luci.." lucifer smiles, kissing your hair again. he hopes he can stay like this forever, with you safe in his arms. "goodnight my duckling, sleep well..."

OK THE WAY I ATE THIS UP IT GOT SO LONG AND FOR WHAT? i love him sooooo much yall im so normal? (also this note is for @milyki and milyki only but u are NOT allowed to read this fic or mention this to me irl bc i will die :)

[mournings-stars]

doubt comes in

happy valentines day, here's my apology in advance for the angst. this is heavily based on the story of orpheus and eurydice specifically in the musical hadestown (my fav) with inspo from the lyrics so a lot of this is written with the intention to rhyme and be in a hadestown-esque song.. I probably wont write like this often, but i hope y'all like it there's one mention of pronouns (she/her) with lilith since i basically swapped the reader for orpheus and luci for eurydice but other than that i don't think there's much to indicate this is a fem!reader but this is an angel!reader if anyone would like a precursor with fluff, i'll compensate yall for the dramatic greek angst

part 2 (prelude) part 3 (prelude pt. 2) part 4 (prelude pt. 3) part 5/finale (semi-alt ending)

It was a long way down; winding, golden steps in a narrow hall that you didn’t know the depth of until you reached the bottom. Your legs ached with each step, and your wings fought not to fly the rest of the way. You could see it in the distance when you reached the ground, the red heat of the pride ring, and the home you were headed to. 

It hadn’t been long since Lucifer fell, maybe a few months since he and his love were banished to the darkness he created with the worst of humankind, but you were given a blessing. 

Sera, the oldest of the angels, allowed you to go down to Hell to retrieve him. There was a catch, however, one that made you wary as you now neared his home. 

You could only retrieve Lucifer. He had to leave his love, and you had to trust that he would follow you. You had to lead the way back up the golden staircase she created for you, all the way to the very top where the golden gates you knew so well waited for you. Lucifer had to walk behind you without a sound; he couldn’t assure you that he was there. You just had to trust one another. To follow, and not to check. 

You couldn’t turn around. 

Finally, you reached his home, knocking on the door and waiting patiently before it was opened. “It’s you…” You knew his voice well, the sound of it making your heart swell as you wrapped your arms around him. 

He was quick to return the embrace, the ache in your legs vanishing for a moment in his arms. “It’s me.” He sighed, hugging you tighter and shutting his eyes with his head on your chest. He could hear the drumming of your heart, and he knew if he held you long enough he’d be back in Heaven when he opened his eyes.

But he had to let go.

“How are you here?” He asked a question and it was like a melody, clear as day and symphonic as the winds that flowed beside you as you descended that steep staircase down to Hell. He stepped back, hands lingering until you stepped away. 

“Sera allowed me to come down,” you said. “She said I could bring you back — that you could leave this place…” You looked around, shifting uncomfortably in the unnatural heat before you turned back to him with a gentle smile. “Come home with me.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a trick. She’s never liked me—“

“No!” You grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at you. “It’s a trial — or a second chance at one.”

It had taken you days to get down. You hadn’t seen Lucifer in months. A few days without looking back at him would be nothing if that meant an eternity back home.

He squeezed your hands, looking down at them and suddenly feeling that it might just be possible. “How?”

“It took a while,” you said quietly. “She didn’t want to listen, but I knew you had the best intentions. I convinced her, and she’s letting you come home.”

“She’s letting me try.” He looked down, dropping your hands and frowning at the ground. “What’s the catch?”

“You have to follow me—“

“I can do that,” he said quickly. 

“And you can’t touch me, or speak to me. You just have to trust that I’ll get us there and that I won’t look back—“

He cut you off with a dry laugh. “Just?” He laughed harder. “We both know how this will go.”

“I trust you to follow me. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” His hands went to your face, holding gently. You moved out of his grip, feeling the coolness of the band on his left hand. “We were always close; I trust you, I just… don’t trust her—“

“You should go, Lu,” a voice came from behind him, and the woman you recognized from Eden stood there. Her hair, long and blonde, flowed behind her in non-existent winds. Her smile made you understand why he fell — why he would for her. “Go home with her.”

It was decided then. Just one encouraging push from his love and he was prepared to leave. He looked back at her, giving a smile that made you look away as you turned. 

As they said their goodbyes, you waited quietly, kicking at the ground absentmindedly until Lucifer put a hand on your shoulder. “Ready?” You nodded. “Alright.”

“We can walk together until we reach the stairs… Then, from there, we’re on our own.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he assured. “I’ll make sure you get back home.”

You frowned at his wording, taking his hand. “We’ll both go home.”

He nodded, correcting himself and squeezing your hand, “I’ll make sure we both get home.”

You nodded. “Let’s go.”

The walk was quiet before it had to be, doubt already coming in and making its way between you. What would happen when you reached the stairs? Would he follow behind you? Who were you to think he would, when his love had to stay in a place like this? 

“How bad was it?” Lucifer asked you. “Are you sure you want to go now?” You nodded. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I can rest when we’re home.” You gave him a smile that made him do the same. “You want to go back, don’t you?”

He had his doubts. He doubted that he could. He doubted he could make it all that way. He hadn’t seen you in months, and all he wanted was to talk to you — all he could do was touch you — but there was silence now. Didn’t that mean it’d be easy not to speak? Not to touch you… After all this time. After he found someone to love—

“Sera said if we make it, she’ll listen to you,” you tried, hoping he’d respond. He hadn’t even realized he didn’t answer you. “Maybe we can bring Lilith up soon.”

“I’d like that.”

The smile you gave him made him reach out his hand, the look on your face forced and sorrowful as you walked ahead of him. He wanted to take your hand for comfort — to both of you — but how was he supposed to go days without it if he couldn’t fight a simple urge now?

“We’re here…” You stopped some time later, silence blanketing the two of you a long time ago. 

But now it was for a different reason. 

Great golden steps stood before you, spiraling high up into thick clouds that shielded the true height of the stairs. 

But even from here they looked endless. 

“We can’t fly, can we?” Lucifer asked, half joking. 

“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” You laughed, but it died out quickly. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can turn back now…” You swallowed your pride. “Go home to her… It’ll be days of walking, and going back up is much harder than coming down.”

He took a moment to understand what you were telling him, but surely told you, “If you were down here, I’d come to find you, too.” That brought a smile to your face. There was another pause before he asked, “would you follow me?”

You nodded. “Anywhere.” Even here. 

He smiled, taking your hand like he wanted to before. “Then show the way.”

You squeezed his hand before turning to the stairs and letting go, savoring that last touch until you could do it again; back home. You took a deep breath before taking the first step. 

Immediately, a marble wall surrounded the staircase, and you could only imagine that the steps were shielded, a wall blocking off the first stair as you started to go back up. 

You couldn’t hear a thing, not even your own footsteps as you climbed step after step. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, could hear your footsteps echoing; one after the other, each of your steps right after the other, and sounding like the dull pounding of a drum. He couldn’t tell if it was comforting or foreboding, but he listened anyway. This was how he’d make it through, he decided. To the steady sounds of drumming. 

But you were struggling. Coming down and back up so soon had made you tired already, but doubt weighing you down didn't help any. You let out a breath before beginning to hum as a way to ground yourself to these hellish stairs. 

It was a song both of you knew well; there were no words or swells to make you know what came next, just an endless melody that the winds would sing as they carried the seasons through the Earth. Long before Lucifer went to see the world, this was how you knew it. Through the songs nature sang. 

But now he knew the world much better than you did. He didn’t need this song anymore. You doubted he even remembered it,

but no, he was humming along, hoping you could hear that he remembered your song. He remembered how beautiful it was, and how when you sang it, the entirety of Heaven could feel your warmth — your love. It was why you were given the task to change the seasons, your song persuading nature into the most beautiful summers and captivating winters. But what else could he expect from an angel of Virtue? Could he expect that the love that he felt all throughout Heaven would ever be for him? How could he expect anything from you? 

Pride does not deserve Humility. 

And doubt comes in; he thought about turning back, letting you go alone, but even when he stopped for just a moment you kept walking. You trusted him to follow you, and as you hummed the song of nature, he felt that same love that he used to. The same warmth that was now pushing him up the endless stairs after you. The same winds that made him want to reach out and touch you, just to remind you that he was there. Just to see you look back at him. 

But he knew what you were doing, using your gift of song to bring nature into this empty place so it could push you to keep going. You hoped the winds would push you up, but they weren’t strong enough. 

You weren’t strong enough for this. 

The song stopped after a while, but you continued to climb, up, and up, and further up to no avail. If it hadn’t been that there was only one path, you would’ve questioned whether or not you were going the right way. 

It was harder going back. 

But there was hope; a faint, golden light that led you back home. A faint, golden light that told you you were so close. A faint, golden light that made you want to turn, smile at him, and say, “we’re almost home,” but you stopped yourself and kept going. 

You were much further than almost, but you were getting there. And this light pulled you to keep. Going. 

You didn’t care for the exhaustion, or the pain, you didn’t think about the hunger, or the thirst. You kept in mind that you would sleep, rest, eat, and drink when you made it home with him. 

When he made it home with you. He would worry about how tired you must’ve been. He would worry how much pain you were in — and he would worry about his own once he made it home with you. But he saw how you faltered, hand on the wall to keep yourself going, and he knew he couldn’t make it much longer like this. 

But you trusted him, he had to try. 

And doubt comes in. 

He doubted how much longer he could take this. He doubted how much longer he could watch you fade into exhaustion and pain without doing anything about it. 

He doubted that Sera didn’t expect this to happen.   

He doubted, and doubted, until you were finally there. Until you were almost sure he hadn’t followed you. Until your legs gave out on the final step and you felt him rush to keep you from falling. You felt his hands keeping you up and his wings bringing you onto the pale clouds of your home. 

And you turned back. 

But he was happy that you did. He gave you that same smile he gave her and his hands held your face gently. You reached up to grip his wrists as your eyes pooled. Regret; regret for doubting, regret for tiring, for failing. For turning back. “Why would you?” You asked and it was like a broken melody. Clear as summer rain with no symphony to push away the doubt that just kept coming in.

And he spoke to you. He broke every rule. 

“I couldn’t let you fall,” he said, and you knew how he meant it. You knew he never trusted Sera. She knew he’d fail. So did he. But not you. You were the fool that made him put his trust in you.

And now you knew he had to go. And he knew he could never return. 

He tilted your head down, wings fluttering and lifting him off the clouds. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head and said, “Visit again if you can.”

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Four ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Four Warnings: slight profanity How to find the other chapters in my pinned post.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter Four]

You hadn’t been keeping track of the time. 

Say, a couple years ago, you never would’ve considered the possibility that you could end up in a room full of rubber ducks. In Hell. With Lucifer Morningstar. Or, what sort of situation could lead you into it.

But you supposed that life was full of surprises. 

You ran your finger along the side of the head of a random rubber duck you had decided to pick up. You heard a small gasp, and a hand shot out to snatch it out of your hands. 

“Careful,” Lucifer gasped. You stared at him blankly. 

“You don’t know what they can do…” he said sheepishly. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure.” 

He smiled at you. You crossed your legs, staring down at him in his chair from your perch on the table. “So, is this what you do with your highly important, influential, immortal existence? Create an army of rubber ducks?” You teased lightly. He tipped his head back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. 

“Maybe.”

You tilted your head, and your eyes drifted over to a painting on the wall. Standing up, you walked over, feeling golden eyes train into your back. You pointed at it, turning to face him. “Who are they?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard- he just stared at you as if you had threatened to strangle him. You furrowed your brows in concern. “What?”

 He cleared his throat. “Nothing. That’s my daughter and my… ex wife.”

“Oh,” you managed to utter, feeling a strange mix of regret and guilt burrowing it’s way into your chest. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-“

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “Ask away.”

“Are you sure?” The reply was a simple nod.

Curiosity killed the cat. You winced, trying to banish Sera’s voice from your head.

“Her name is Lilith, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

You shifted from foot to foot. “What’s your daughter's name?”

“Charlie- Charlotte.” 

You returned to where you originally were. “I take it she doesn’t live with you in this huge, erm, house?” 

Lucifer smiled wryly. “No, she… she’s off doing, uh…”

“You don’t know, do you?” You sighed. He shook his head. “It’s alright. Do you two not talk?” He shook his head, again. 

You dragged over a chair to sit next to him, and reached out for his hand. He didn’t shy away from your touch as you intertwined your fingers. The cold metal of a ring- you glanced down- his wedding ring, pressed against your skin. 

The air slowly filled with a thick silence, until he broke it.

“She left to chase whatever dreams she had a while after Lilith left.” His next words were bitter. “She just left- Lilith, I mean. Just disappeared.”

You glanced at him, and he laughed. “But whatever. It’s been years. She’s clearly not coming back. I’ll just have to move on.” 

“You’re clearly not trying,” you pointed out, tapping a finger against the thick gold band. He sighed, then looked up at you suddenly. 

“What?”

“I’ll take it off.”

“Seriously? I didn’t mean-“

“No, you’re right.” He stood up and went over to a drawer in the corner. You watched as he pulled the ring off his hand and dropped it in one of them, then locked it with a key sitting on the top. “Catch.”

You caught the key as it came flying through the air towards you. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Keep it. Or toss it, I don’t care.”

You buried it in the depths of your satchel. “Fine,” you muttered. You could see his pleased smile in your peripheral. 

♱♱♱

“Fuck! [name]!”

You yelped as you fell into a giant pile of rubber ducks. The smell of- well, rubber- attacked your senses, almost suffocating. You gasped, emerging in a flurry of rolling yellow ducks to see Lucifer standing over you, stifling his laughter. 

“Do you not have, like, places to keep these…” you gestured agitatedly at the colony of artificial creatures surrounding you. “Specimens?”

“They’re ducks.”

“I know they’re ducks.”

He grinned as he offered his hand towards you. 

A scream sounded out outside. Two black shapes zipped across the red sky, the scene framed by the window you were staring out of. It was behind Lucifer, framing his silhouette as he turned around to glance outside. The scream had dissolved and the shapes had disappeared. Lucifer glanced back at you.

You stared at him and gulped, frazzled.

“Are you sure your… friends aren’t looking for you?” You took his arm and he pulled you up. But didn’t let go. 

“I hope not.”

Lucifer stared at your face, intensely, as if he was trying to memorise it. You flushed and turned away. “Maybe it was a bad choice you made, seeing me.”

You laughed nervously. “It’ll be fine. Plus, you hardly left me with much of a choice.”

He smiled, and his eyes seemed to glitter in the dim light. “We all have choices, angel.”

It knocked the breath right out of you. 

You stared at him, then turned away again. “Sure, whatever.”

You heard his low chuckle behind your back as you walked away. 

♱♱♱

The pentagram would be closing soon. 

You grappled with the window, until Lucifer sighed and pushed you to the side, gently, opening it up for you. It swung open soundlessly as you clambered onto the windowsill, wings poised for flight. 

“Angel, wait.”

You stared at him as something closed around your wrist. You looked down. A bracelet. “Huh?”

He held up his own wrist. The bracelet on it was identical to yours. “First thing I’ve made since a rubber duck.”

“…a bracelet.”

He held his finger up to your lips to silence you. You flushed. “Not just any bracelet,” he said, the pride evident in his voice. “It’s for communication. And you’re the perfect person to help me test it out over long distances. You press the stone on the front, and mine will buzz and light up. Vice versa.” 

“We are worlds apart.” The sentence seemed to strike a strange feeling in you, one of melancholy. Lucifer, however, seemed unfazed.

You knew that, deep down, you’d give in anyways. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

♱♱♱

The morning light filtered through the window and onto your bed as you emptied out your satchel. Your notebook and pen dropped onto the covers soundlessly. The apple bounced off the corner of the frame, rolling across your rug. 

As you leaned down to pick it up, you heard something else clatter onto the floor.

You turned and stared at the ground where it lay, next to your foot.

The key, glinting in the pale light.

You kicked it under your bed. It spun away into the shadows with a final flash.

You sighed, shoulders relaxing, and sat onto the bed, leaning over your arm, staring at the bracelet. The stone in the middle was flat, in the shape of an apple, and a 

metal snake coiled around the band of the bracelet. Pretty. 

You pressed the stone. Buzz.

It lit up as you touched it. A few seconds ticked by. 

Buzz. 

You flinched as it lit up and vibrated, by itself too, then let out a deep breath. He was on the other side. It worked. 

Knock knock knock. 

You stiffened.

The knocking started up again, more relentless this time. You scrambled forward, quickly picking your way across your living room and opening the door.

“Lute?”

She smiled thinly, crossing her arms and glaring at you. The look on her face made your heart sink down to your shoes and dribble out in a puddle onto the floor. You gulped.

“[name],” she said coldly. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

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[chocolatecake47]

Don’t get me wrong I think about them all day every day but you know when some days the gravity of the entire plot just hits you so hard you’re like woah, Rayla jumped off a cliff at 15 and Callum jumped after her Ezran almost drowned at 9 Callum’s mother died when he was 5 or something how the hell did he pick himself back up from that AND take care of his baby brother Ezran was full on orphaned at age 9 AND he’s a child king running a country and Rayla’s village banished a teenager and blames her for murder Claudia brought her dad back from the dead and is going a lil psycho 😊 Rayla’s spent two years alone probably in the depths of the woods and Callum got possessed and Soren was mentally tortured and probably believed he was stupid for 18 years not to mention paralyzed at one point and Rayla left in the middle of the night because she thinks the world is on her shoulders alone and Callum punched someone for her and Ezran stomped the arrow used to kill his dad and stared down an arch dragon and probably hasn’t properly processed any of his grief and cheerful fun-loving Terry murdered someone for his girlfriend and Rayla was ready to loose a hand in the most painful excruciating way imaginable for her little brother and Callum was ready to loose his life and Soren probably spent countless nights awake and worried wondering where his little sister was and Rayla’s entire family is trapped in dark magic coins after being assumed dead and Callum was electrocuted and tortured on a pirate ship and Soren stabbed his father through the chest for Ezran's life and that creepy sir sparkepuff thing came out of a cocoon and Harrow doomed the world for Sarai and now we’re probably going to watch history repeat itself, and you’re just like wow ohmygod how horrendous that is actually a lot of dark shit to process 😃?

No just me okay whatever

[blksoysauce]

I want you

Lucifer x reader

Tags: angst, unrequited love (not for long)

Summary

" Once upon a time. . . An angel admires Lucifer's bravery but is too shy to approach him. After Lucifer banishment, the angel confronts their unspoken feelings and ventures into hell to find Lucifer. "

Part 1 masterlist Part 2

After your last encounter with Lucifer, the feelings you had tried to bury deep within your heart resurfaced.

You started to find comfort in moments of complete solitude in your room when your roommate left for night duty. In those quiet instants, you would unleash the torrent of emotions you had hidden from the rest of heaven, your tears staining the fabric of your pillow as you screamed into it.

The weight of your unrequited love felt suffocating. The torment of knowing that perhaps you could have had a chance if only you had the courage to speak to him was pure torture.

As days melted into nights, the emptiness within you seemed to deepen. You yearned for a place where you could let out the emotions that were consuming you.

One night, beneath the shining stars, you found yourself alone with your thoughts, the memory of Lucifer's presence haunting every corner of your mind. The silence seemed to grow louder, more oppressive, the weight of your unspoken desires becoming unbearable.

Your gaze drifted towards the portal to hell that was opening for the extermination.

Pushing aside the doubts and fears that had held you back for so long, you muttered under your breath.

"Fuck it"

With a swift motion, you got up from your bed, unfurling your wings as you joined the angels descending into the portal.

As you descended into the depths of hell, the chaos and horror caused by angels left you in disbelief. You walked around trying to find Lucifer or any clue where he could be, stopping soon when you saw an angel mercilessly killing a demon, the brutality of the act sending shivers down your spine. With a pounding heart, you quickly retreated, hiding yourself terrified of being discovered.

After what felt like an eternity, the horror show finally ended, and you cautiously emerged from your hiding spot, walking around doing your best to avoid attract attention.

Suddenly, you found yourself standing before a grand palace, its imposing structure drawing your gaze. And there, amidst the chaos of anchormans questioning Lucifer about the extermination, you spotted him.

Your eyes met his, a silent exchange passing between you. Before you could react, Lucifer swiftly dispatched the anchormans. Rapidly making his way towards you.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"I-I fell into the portal" you stammered, your heart racing as you struggled to find the right words.

"Fell?" Lucifer repeated confused.

"Yes, I fell into the portal" you explained, feeling a rush of relief when his expression relaxed.

Until . . . Part 4

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

Eddie is late hes so fucking late and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get this fucking kiss with you, he will go fucking crazy and do something so stupid that he’ll be banished to the depths of hell. Fuck it why did he have to work on new years eve , of every day of the year this one ? He’s pretty sure he broke at least 6 laws getting to the house but he is willing to deal with the consequences only after kissing you

10

He just got home , he left his car door open just to make it in time.

9

Hes unlocking the front door with his Metallica key you gifted him for his birthday as a way of asking him to move in with you.

8,7,6

He runs in the house & accidentally trips over ozzy & sabbath , the cat & puppy you also gifted him for his birthday but not before he gives them kisses too. “Love you guys , still my favorite gift ever”

5,4,3

Hes running running running up your shared staircase trying his best to get to you before the tv announcers make it to “happy new year.”

2

He runs into your shared bedroom and walks in on you in your favorite monkey slippers ,his favorite red lace panties and the red and pink hellfire shirt he gifted you.

1

He grabs your face despite the snowflakes on his gloves and plants the sweetest loving kiss you’ve ever received. Hes so happy to go into the new year with you and even more excited to have many more moments like this. “Happy new year baby, maybe next year you’ll be my wife”

happy new years my beautiful beautiful babies i fucking love you all so goddamn much its fucking crazy. know that you are loved and cared for.

@lovebugism @taintedcigs @chrrymunson @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @keeksandgigz @stveharringtn @trashmouth-richie @luveline @harrywavycurly @punk-in-docs @purplehazed-h @ghost-proofbaby @neonghostlights

[whocaresaboutdecent]

“Good morning, Angel.”

Whispered words and gentle fingertips coaxed Aziraphale from the depths of his dreamless sleep to find himself in a warm, comforting embrace. He sighed softly, nestling deeper into the familiar warmth at his back. Crowley’s arm tightened around him, welcoming the increased closeness. Without opening his eyes, Aziraphale found Crowley’s hand where it rested against his waist and drew it close to his chest.

A soft breath ghosted over the nape of Aziraphale’s neck, ruffling the fine hairs there and sending a pleasant shiver down his spine as Crowley’s low voice rumbled through the quiet.

“Breakfast’s ready.”

Aziraphale’s lips curved into a smile, and he gave Crowley’s hand a gentle squeeze in thanks. He was well aware of how much Crowley enjoyed preparing meals for him—Crowley’s obsession with watching Aziraphale eat was no secret between them anymore, if it ever had been. The scent of freshly brewed tea and warm pancakes wafted through the air, tempting, but not tempting enough to lure Aziraphale away from Crowley’s touch.

“Mmmh,” he hummed contentedly, but made no move to leave the bed. Crowley’s arms held him close, providing a sense of safety that he still craved, even now that Heaven and Hell wouldn’t interfere anymore. And there was something else that kept him in place.

He had always known that he would enjoy Crowley’s touch, but what he hadn’t anticipated was just how much Crowley would relish touching him, never shying away from letting Aziraphale know that he did. The way Crowley’s fingers slipped under his shirt and trailed through the soft curls on his chest and belly now, the affection and devotion Crowley radiated, filled Aziraphale with a warmth that banished any lingering self-doubt. He treasured these tender, unguarded moments between them too much to just cut them short, and he could deny Crowley the pleasure even less.

“You enjoy sleeping more than eating now, Angel?” Crowley teased, though his tone was soft, full of affection at Aziraphale's unwillingness to rise, even for breakfast. Aziraphale had first understood the appeal of sleep some months ago when he had accidentally dozed off as Crowley gently caressed his back, cherishing the way it silenced his mind, quieting the lingering doubts and fears and insecurities. But the best part had been waking up, feeling calm and safe in Crowley’s embrace.

Aziraphale turned in Crowley’s arms, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. The scent there was more intoxicating than anything awaiting him in the kitchen. 

“Quite possibly,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the warm skin. “Especially if it means waking up next to you like this from now on.”