#Char was suspicious. as usual. but more so

[chqnified]

Hate it when Avi is right. Like we get it whore. You are a good judge of character. WE GET IT.

[thatlotuscookie]

OMG I JUST READ CHIBI DABI FIC AND IT WAS SO CUTE, IT MADE ME WANT TO REQUEST TOO😭 so how about Dabi x reader when after some mission they're both so so tired and they just lie in bed watching movie and Dabi falls asleep and reader decides to tie his hair in a tiny adorable ponytail on top of his head so it stays up😭😂 and he stirs awake and he's like wtf is that and he's annoyed but sees how happy it makes reader and he softens I NEED FLUFF WITH DABI LIKE FOREHEAD KISSES, CUDDLING, PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR, SLEEPING WITH HIM JUST SOMETHING CUTE😭❤️

✧･ﾟ: a/n : stop because this is so?? CUTE??? thank you for requesting anon<3 so glad you liked the chibi dabi hehhehe. Enjoy!

✧ Title: ✧ Cuddles and Ponytails ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Fluff ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: After a long, exhausting mission, you and Dabi return to your shared hideout. You both find comfort in each other, reminding yourselves that even in the chaos of your world, it’s the small moments that truly matter. ✧ Content/Tags: Fluff, Cuddling, Forehead Kisses, Playful, Domestic, Soft Dabi, Hair Tying, Soft!Dabi ✧ WC: 915 words // 5.1k chars

It was a late night at the hideout. After a particularly grueling mission, you and Dabi dragged yourselves back to your shared room, the weight of exhaustion clinging to both of you. The plan had been simple enough, but nothing ever went as smoothly as it was supposed to in this line of work.

Before settling down, you both made a quick trip to the shower, the hot water helping to wash away the grime and stress of the day. You felt more human as you rinsed off, the steam enveloping you like a comforting blanket. Dabi didn’t say much, but you could see the tension ease from his shoulders as he stepped out, water dripping from his hair. After drying off and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you collapsed onto the bed without much thought, still feeling the fatigue wash over you.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the flicker of a movie playing on the flat-screen TV, though neither of you were really paying attention to it. Dabi had ended up lying on his back, arm flung over his eyes. You sat beside him, propped against the headboard, watching him through half-lidded eyes. The mission had been rough, and you could tell it had taken a toll on him, but now that he was here, in this quiet moment with you, he seemed a little more at peace.

As you looked down at him, an idea popped into your head. His dark hair was messy from the day’s events, strands falling into his face as he breathed slowly. You bit your lip, stifling a giggle, as the image of him with his hair in a tiny ponytail flashed in your mind.

You weren’t sure how he’d react, but the exhaustion had wiped away any hesitations. Reaching over to the bedside table, you grabbed a small hair tie and gently scooted closer to him. You were careful not to wake him as you slowly gathered the messy strands of his hair, tying them into the smallest ponytail you could manage on the top of his head.

It looked… adorable. The contrast between his usual brooding, tough exterior and the ridiculous ponytail made your heart warm. Unable to hold back, you let out a soft giggle.

Suddenly, Dabi stirred. His eyes slowly blinked open, and he groaned, voice low and gravelly from fatigue. “What the hell are you laughing at?” he mumbled, shifting slightly.

You bit back another laugh, pretending to be innocent. “Nothing,” you said, your voice betraying your amusement.

He squinted at you suspiciously before reaching up to rub his face. His fingers brushed the top of his head, and his eyes widened slightly in confusion. “What the…” He sat up slightly, tugging at the tiny ponytail.

“Are you serious?” he asked, glaring at you half-heartedly. His tone was annoyed, but it wasn’t harsh. You knew him well enough by now to realize he wasn’t truly mad, just a bit surprised.

You couldn’t help it anymore. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you watched his face twist in mild annoyance, his hand still gripping the little ponytail. “It’s so cute!” you managed to say between giggles.

Dabi huffed, rolling his eyes. “Cute, huh?” he muttered, clearly not impressed, but as he looked at your face—your genuine happiness, the way your eyes sparkled as you looked at him—his expression softened.

He sighed and let his hand drop away from the ponytail. “Fine, if it makes you happy,” he grumbled, lying back down. “But don’t expect this to be a regular thing.” His words were sharp, but his tone was soft, almost affectionate.

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth as you scooted closer to him, lying down beside him. He glanced at you, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, but there was no malice in his words.

Without thinking, you reached up and brushed your fingers through the rest of his hair, smoothing it down gently. He tensed for a moment but soon relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut. It wasn’t often Dabi let himself be vulnerable like this, and you cherished every moment of it.

Before you knew it, he had shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest. His body was warm, comforting in a way that was uniquely Dabi. You smiled into his shoulder, your fingers still playing with his hair as you lay there together in comfortable silence.

After a few moments, you felt his lips press gently against your forehead—a rare but cherished gesture. It was small, barely noticeable, but it spoke volumes coming from him. You closed your eyes, feeling content in his arms, listening to the sound of his steady breathing.

Dabi let out a soft sigh, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke, “You’re the only one I’d let do this, you know?”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “I know,” you replied, snuggling closer to him.

As the night went on, the two of you drifted off to sleep, tangled together under the blankets, the tiny ponytail still perched on top of Dabi’s head. It was a small, silly moment, but it was one you would treasure—because even in the darkness of your world, there were moments like these. Moments where you could just be together, no masks, no missions—just you and him.

And that was enough.

[worriedvision]

A taste of your own medicine - Lyney

Gender neutral reader, contains spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest. Unhappy ending.

--

"Do you trust me, my dove?" Lyney asks, you eyeing the suspicious concoction Lyney asked for you to take.

"...Lyney, can you have some with me? It looks kinda...ominous, why am I the only one taking this?" You ask, not reaching for the bottle.

Lyney seemed to think hard about what he was going to do next. Either he would take this medicine and show you it was safe to consume - although it would be painful - or he would have to push you away unless you take the medication.

He couldn't afford to lose his knowledge of the House of Hearth, knowing this was a large part of him. Hell, he was next in line for taking charge.

"If you don't take this medicine, I'm afraid to say I won't trust you." Lyney lies, you grasping the bottle.

Before drinking, however, you open the bottle and sniff it. Taking another look at Lyney, he looks worried. You assume it's the idea of him having to break things off if you don't take the medicine, so you take the concoction.

--

The next few days are absolute agony. No doubt in your mind, it was the medicine. You couldn't figure out how it felt, other than an agonising burn. It was like it was charring you inside out. Lyney had grown distant as well - usually, when you were too poorly to leave the house your boyfriend always ran along to see what was wrong.

Yet, he hadn't shown up.

You did, however, read articles about people's experiences with a mystery concoction, all sharing the same things you were experiencing. You know some of these people, not able to pinpoint where from, and you began to think of why.

It was incredibly painful for you - you wanted to cuddle your boyfriend while you cried through your pain, however he wasn't there. You whittle it down to him being busy, so you try not to worry too much about it.

He told you he would trust you if he took the medicine, so why hasn't he spoken to you afterwards?

He has to love you, you did what he wanted! There wasn't anything to signify a worsening of the relationship, perhaps your hesitancy hurt him?

On the fifth day of your pain, you hear a knock on the door, and your boyfriend had finally showed up.

You cry out and you pull him in, cuddling him as tight as possible as he chuckles nervously. You didn't get why he was so nervous, but he made a serious mistake.

He dropped a document describing the exact medications function, as well as a list of individuals who took the medicine.

It was the same names as what you saw in the papers.

Reading the paper, while still cuddling your boyfriend, you see the medicine was to erase the individuals memory of the Fatui - including people you previously knew.

It all made sense - Lyney was distancing himself from you, he didn't even think of taking the medicine. In hindsight, you should have questioned him on why he was giving you a random medicine in more detail...

You shove your partner away, no longer feeling relief but rather betrayal. Lyney gasps, hitting the ground with a dull this as he looks at you wide-eyed as you begin to bawl.

He scrambled to his feet, doing a crawl as he does so, babbling apologies at you as you back up.

"You came here as the last night to see me before I forget you!" You scream. "You just wanted some reassurance that I didn't hate you for abandoning me for leaving me alone!"

"I realised too late my mistake, and I wanted to-"

"Lyney, you shouldn't have even thought of doing this to me in the first place! It...it hurts! It's been horrible for me, and you thought I wouldn't feel empty suddenly forgetting you!" You huff, Lyney choking up as he looks at you with puppy eyes as he begs for you to hug him.

"I'm sorry I put you through this. I should have known better, I should have explained!" Lyney weeps out, seeing no evidence of you thawing.

"Get out, I hate you!" You yell, grabbing your boyfriend and pushing him out of your place. He turns around, tears streaming down his face as he begins to open his mouth for more meaningless apologies.

Seeing the paper on the ground, you pick it up and flick to your name out of curiosity.

'Although not a member of the Hearth, individual _ has been considered a hindrance from the perspective of a member of the Hearth.

His request for dosage has been approved, however only after taking the medicine has the member realised his regret. We, unfortunately, have no reversal for this medication. Member has been advised to stay away from this person, to allow an easier transition to no knowledge of the House of Hearth.'

You begin to try, the achingly dull feeling as you begin to feel the memories fading. Hearing Lyney knocking again, you grab the paper and give it to him.

"Leave me alone. I'm not your property, and you were never responsible for my life."

[solxamber]

Hello! Can I please request some (HI3) Su or Kevin Kaslana × gn Reader? I am desperate for these men's attention and loveeee and there's still little content of them bc they're MEN

Kevin Kaslana, Su x reader (separate)

i hope you like it <3

Kevin Kaslana

The day starts with the unmistakable scent of… smoke?

You roll out of bed, eyes still heavy with sleep, and stumble your way to the kitchen. The sight that greets you is both terrifying and, somehow, endearing. Kevin Kaslana—legendary hero, the man who could probably fight a god and win—stands in front of the stove, holding a spatula like it’s a sword, fighting an invisible enemy. Except that enemy isn’t invisible at all; it’s the charred remains of what was probably once eggs.

“Kevin?” you ask, cautiously. “Are you… making breakfast?”

Kevin, with his signature stoic expression, looks up at you, his blue eyes alight with what could only be described as misplaced confidence. “Yes. Sit down. I wanted to make something special for you.”

You glance at the table, where a plate of pancakes—if you can even call them that—sit proudly. They’re oddly shaped, resembling abstract art more than anything edible. One has a suspiciously black ring around it, as though it was scorched in some breakfast-related battle.

Kevin, in all his earnest glory, beams. “I followed the recipe exactly.”

Oh no.

He approaches you with a plate in hand, the eggs…well, the crispy yellow-grey matter, and those "pancakes" sit like fallen soldiers on a battlefield. You can't help but blink back tears—whether from love or sheer horror, you’re not sure. Still, you sit down, heart full of affection for this man who could literally conquer worlds but was taken down by basic breakfast foods.

You pick up your fork, praying silently to whatever cosmic beings might be listening, and take a bite of the eggs first. They crunch. Eggs are not supposed to crunch.

Kevin’s eyes are on you, filled with hope. “How is it?” he asks, voice soft.

You nod, swallowing the egg with a Herculean effort. “It’s… perfect,” you lie, because you love him. Because despite the fact that your teeth are struggling to make sense of what’s in your mouth, you’d eat burnt eggs for him any day.

Next, you tackle the pancake. This might be your biggest challenge yet. You stab your fork into it, and it fights back. You break off a piece and chew—slowly, carefully. You think, at one point, you might have cracked a tooth.

And yet, you smile through it all. Tears welling in your eyes. “It’s amazing, Kevin. You’re amazing.”

Kevin, ever the hero, takes a seat across from you, completely oblivious to the carnage on your plate. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll make breakfast more often.”

Your soul leaves your body for a moment. More often? You’d rather face a thousand Honkai Beasts than go through this breakfast nightmare again, but you simply nod because… well, you love him.

And love means sacrifice, even if that sacrifice is your taste buds.

Su

Living with Su was like living in a Zen garden. Every day felt like you were being gently guided toward inner peace, whether you asked for it or not.

Today, though, was different. Su had decided it was cleaning day.

You sat on the couch, buried under a blanket and scrolling mindlessly through your phone, while Su moved through the apartment like a breeze of calm efficiency. Armed with a feather duster, he approached the bookshelf like he was about to perform a sacred ritual. He wiped every surface with such gentleness that it made you feel like a heathen for how you usually did it: with a wet rag and a lot of impatience.

"You're really into this, huh?" you asked, glancing at him over the top of your phone. He was now rearranging the plants in the corner, positioning them so they could “better absorb the morning sunlight.”

He gave you that serene smile, the one that felt like a warm hug to your soul and also made you feel like you should be meditating more. "A tidy space promotes a tidy mind."

“Right, of course,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around you as though shielding yourself from his overly serene aura. “And here I thought we were just trying to find that sock I lost.”

Su, always in tune with the subtleties of the universe, of course already had the sock in his hand—folded neatly, as if it were a rare artifact. “This one?”

You stared at it, blinking. "That’s it? How did you—"

"I found it under the couch. It was stuck in the farthest corner," he said simply, as if retrieving lost items from the void was just part of his daily routine.

You let out a sigh of wonder. "You're like some kind of cleaning magician."

He chuckled softly, a rare sound, and moved on to the next task with the calm determination of a monk on a pilgrimage. Now he was folding laundry, and you felt a twinge of guilt watching him work so quietly, so efficiently.

Finally, you tossed the blanket aside, standing up dramatically. "Alright, alright! I’ll help!"

But the moment you grabbed a towel to fold, Su gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "There’s no rush," he said softly. "Sit. Relax."

You blinked. "Relax? While you do everything? I’ll feel like a horrible person!"

He smiled, his eyes half-lidded in that eternally calm way of his. "There’s balance in everything. Today, your role is to rest. Tomorrow, you’ll find your own tasks."

“Are you sure?” you asked hesitantly, already half-sitting back down.

“Positive,” he said, moving onto folding another perfectly aligned piece of laundry. “Besides, I enjoy this.”

You watched him for a moment, biting your lip. "You enjoy folding laundry?"

"It gives me time to think," he said, as if he were discussing the secrets of the cosmos. "It’s a form of meditation."

Right. Of course it was.

You sat back down, watching as Su continued his cleaning and folding. The air around him seemed to hum with tranquility, making you feel oddly relaxed despite the fact that he was doing all the work.

And then, to your surprise, he paused, turning to you with a faint smile. “Maybe next time, you can teach me your way of folding.”

You snorted, picturing the chaotic heap of mismatched clothes that passed as "folded" when you were in charge. “Trust me, you don’t want to learn my way.”

But Su just smiled, his eyes soft. “I think I’d enjoy learning anything from you.”

And somehow, in that simple, serene moment, your heart felt like it was being tucked neatly into a drawer, folded perfectly with the same care Su gave to everything in his life—including you.

i've only read elysia fics because i'm deeply in love with her but i see that there's a lack of fics in hi3 and i'm gonna fill that void myself now

Masterlist

[streamdotpng]

Continuation of this au

See, let's talk more about enid going back in time and psychics seeing just how fucked up enid became because of it

So, obviously, enid killed Thornhill. Cut the head off, and it's all donezo right? Wrong, because now you got a masterless Hyde on the loose, searching for the killer through any means necessary

Season 1 progresses like usual but with Thornhill dead, the crackstone plot falls through and what rises is 'an outcast killer is on the loose'

Tyler doesn't know who the killer is specifically, but he KNOWS it must be an outcast, and if he fans the flames by muttering some random coincidences to his father about nevermore.. well, he's just doing his job

Got to alert the authorities if there's any suspicious activity, right?

Xavier doesn't paint pictures of the Hyde. Instead, it's of this vicious monster with jagged marks on the side of its face. Wednesday still thinks he might be a suspect, after alll three marks on the beast and three marks on the neck are similar no?

Tyler still shifts and still injures people, too angry to stay still and do nothing at the fact that his master is dead

The fire on the lawn still happens, but its now a charred 'show yourself'

Enid? Is tired as hell but atleast she and wednesday seem to be getting along!

[yukimiyaz]

COME INSIDE (AND HAVE A BITE)

isagi yoichi x gn!reader

inlcudes: vampire isagi. boyfriend isagi. reader being a little shit for like the first half lmao. mentions of blood/drinking blood. suggestive. use of the word pretty once. probably ooc isagi i’m sorry :’)

notes: idk. this idea has been eating me alive. needed to share

Sometimes, as the sun is setting and you are finally slumping into the soft—arguably run down—cushions of your couch, you like to reminisce on the past you, who had the luxury of experiencing simple, relaxing nights after a long day of work.

When you would come home and kick your shoes off in the doorway. Slide your tired feet across the semi-stained hardwood (that you’re still convinced is fake, despite your landlord’s promises) to the bathroom to scald your skin in the shower for however long you felt like. Not caring for how you looked, throwing on the first article of clothing you’d find, and traipsing your way into the kitchen. To find dinner—or sometimes give up on that endeavor and eat the freezer burnt ice cream, or just order in cheap takeout instead—and plop yourself where you are now. Watching some old drama or drowning out the news until you inevitably pass out on your worn out couch. And you were content with that, honestly. It was fine. It was—

“Aaghhh!”

It was peaceful bliss, compared to the torment you now face per diem.

Everyday like clockwork, as soon as the sun sets over the horizon and dusk seeps in, the neighborhood stray comes to your doorstep for a visit. Wailing, baying; clawing at your door like he’s demented and disturbed. 

As you blow out a sigh and heave yourself off of your cushions, you conclude those two words are actually perfect in describing him. 

It only takes a few seconds for you to stride to your front door, and only half of one for you to sling it open. The sight you’re greeted with is familiar—near identical to yesterday, and the day before that (and the day before that), save for a different pair of clothes—and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at it. 

Isagi sits on his knees, hands suspiciously close to your threshold and fingers obviously charred. His head snaps up at your appearance and he wipes the ash off his fingertips, revealing pristine, flawless ridges once again. Peering up at you through his eyelashes, timid smile twitching his lips, you almost forgive him for his disturbance on sight. 

Almost. 

“Isagi,” you greet, making sure the exasperation is obvious in your tone, even if your chest swells with endearment. “Evening.”

“Good evening,” he addresses, immediately, and his smile beams out now. Fangs peeking over the plump of his bottom lip and gleaming in your warm porch light. “You look tasty—I mean pretty.”

“Strike one,” you deduce. “Wow, not even a minute in and you’re already soiling your case.”

His smile cinches into a pout, but it isn’t primarily dejected. “Hey, no fair! There’s nothing wrong with honesty. And you do look so…”

His voice trails off as his eyes trail down you. From your bare face to your socked toes, then back up again; pausing at your throat that is freshly exposed due to your shirt’s stretched out neckline. At the fading marks that prove his twisted existence in your life. This time you don’t fight the urge to roll your eyes, and follow suit by snapping your fingers inches in front of his face. He must be extra desperate tonight, he’s usually off of his knees by now.

“Sorry,” he breathes as he comes to, “What were we talking about?” 

“Strike two,” you sigh, and take a lean against your doorframe. “You’re just determined to strike out early tonight, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’d be more inclined to win if you didn’t use fucking baseball..” he grumbles, but stops himself from continuing when he sees your eyebrow raise. “I mean, you know soccer’s my favorite. Why can’t you use that?”

You consider him, mull over this fact that you are well aware of (if the endless documentaries he’s bored you with in his living room or games he’s shushed you for on the bar television are anything to go by), and hum. You suppose you could grant him this, just this once. Give him a little bit of leeway in this perpetual cat and mouse game. Tipping your head to the side, you slant a shoulder in half of a shrug. 

“Alright,” you concede, “You have a yellow card. One more, you’re out of the game.”

And it’s almost sick, how his fangs catch on his crooked grin. How you can practically see the saccharine venom swirling behind those deep blue irises. A lesser person might have already fallen for this by now; would have given in months ago when he first showed up on their doorstep begging for entry with those glossy eyes and sweet preens. 

A lesser person might join him down on his knees, but you’ve come to take quite a liking to this view. 

“How was work?” he asks, like he cares. Like he doesn’t already know by the slump of your posture against the entryway. “Rough? Draining?”

“Hm. You could say that.” And you indulge him, don’t poke notice of his word choice like you aren’t aware it’s deliberate. There’s something different about him tonight, something… enticing. 

“Ah, draining,” Isagi nods, leans back on his hand. His eyes shift downwards, to the welcome mat that cushions below him, to the worn out divots he has slotted himself into. “I know all about that feeling, you know. Draining is…”

A glint, a gleam, there’s something damn near chilling that flashes under the delicate shade of his lashes as he flicks his gaze back up to you. Your stomach swoops, you shift on your feet. The need to shut your door scratches at the base of your neck, and you aren’t entirely sure why. 

What is so different about the stray cat’s baying tonight?

“Draining is my field of expertise. But you’re well aware of that already, aren’t you?

How uncouth of him, how taunting. Your throat bobs with a discreet swallow but it’s so hard for things to go unnoticed under such keen vision. It’s like the side of your neck is searing, like those faded marks littering your skin aren’t so healed after all. 

“What’s wrong?” he presses, and he finally rises off of his knees now. Stands to his feet in such a fluid motion you wonder if he’s floating. (A possibility, technically, but you think Barou’s gotten on his ass enough that he wouldn’t try it in such a public place). “Bat got your tongue?”

He’s so close. His cool breath fans against your cheeks and you just now realize how chilly it’s gotten with the lack of daylight. Suddenly your sleep shorts seem thinner than you remember. You wrap your arms around yourself to rub at the bumped flesh and do your best to seem unbothered—unperturbed. 

“Funny,” you scoff, but you’re starting to lack your bite. Maybe you can blame the long work week, the fact you had to stay up later than normal last night to finish some things up for your boss. 

One glance to Isagi’s face tells you that no matter what explanation you try to pass off, he’s already calculating that the probability of its truth is zero. 

How unnerving. 

“I know.” And he smirks, now. Curls his lips up in the way he knows drives you crazy and leans his arm beside your head; careful to avoid getting too close to the dreaded threshold. 

(You don’t miss the subtle glare he throws down at it, though).

“Hey, you know what else is funny?”

“What?” You mumble, half-irritated and half-enthralled. You know he knows both sides of that, you know he indulges in it. 

That’s what you’re counting on. 

“Chigiri thinks you’ll invite him over to watch the new Scream when it comes out on rent. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“I plan to.”

“He’s been talking about it all week and he even said he was bringing snacks. I told him it was pathetic how he—Wait, can you run that back by me?”

“I said I plan to,” you repeat yourself, plainly. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks.”

Isagi blanches. “But he’s a vampire.”

“Obviously.”

“He drinks blood. Human blood.”

“No, really?” Feigning a gasp, you place a hand over your heart. 

“He—he’s a life draining monster!”

“Please, the only life he’s draining is his social one by staying home and babysitting you all day.”

“That’s—“ He puffs up, like he wants to spit out a rebuttal, but stops himself. He redirects; steers back to his initial point. You’re impressed with how quick he collects himself, honestly. “That’s unfair! You say I can’t come in on ‘mortal safety principle’ but invite the count? He’s killed way more people than I have!” 

“I thought body count didn’t matter, Yoichi,” you tip your head at him, bat your eyelashes like a porcelain doll, “Isn’t that what you used to always tell me?”

You know you’ve got him when he starts to sulk. It’s never in a normal way—nothing about Isagi Yoichi is normal. His jaw is clenched and his lips are jutted but his eyes are dancing like he’s enjoying this. 

“Let me in.”

You feel the tug, the tingle inside your brain. The asshole is actually trying to use his mind games on you; the fucking jerk. Not that it works with a threshold in the way, Chigiri told you that early on. Learning the rules and lack thereof was crucial upon discovering one of your closest friends was a vampire. And became even more so when you started dating—courting—one yourself. 

“Mmn, don’t think so,” you shrug. 

Isagi hisses (not necessarily at you, but just in frustration) and you don’t even flinch. It’s hard to be caught off guard by a daily routine—even if this one is beginning to fall off kilter. 

“Lemme in,” he slurs, and the pressure inside your skull dissipates. 

No tweaks, no tricks, no compulsion. Just wide eyes and slumped shoulders and a whiny voice that he thinks will help him get his way. He’s strategic, he always has been. He’s playing you even when he’s innocent. 

There’s always a millennia old card up the tailored sleeve of Isagi Yoichi. 

“Why should I?” The question isn’t new, you’ve been known to prick and prod at him to draw this out. To keep things exciting. To make him think he has a chance of being let in for the very first time. 

But tonight, you’re genuine in your delivery. You just hope he can pick up on it. 

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh? So I’m just a meal ticket for you?”

An imaginary yellow card weighs heavy in your hand, you wonder if you should go ahead and hold it up. 

“You know that’s not what I—“ cut off by his forehead slamming into the invisible barricade as he tries to lean in closer to you, he draws back with another low whistle of air slicing through his fangs. “Fuck.”

It’s instinct, how you reach your hand forward, across the security of the threshold, to swipe your thumb over where he’s been singed. It’s already healed (it was within a second of him pulling away) but you’re kind enough to swipe the char away regardless. 

“Then what, Yoi?” 

He softens under your touch, grabs at your hand before you even have the chance to pull away. He keeps it close, slides it along his temple, his cheek, his lips. He pauses there; falters. Mouth slotting open, the  tips of his fangs skim the plump of your palm then dip—down to your wrist. To where the rhythm meets the surface. 

“I miss you.” He just saw you yesterday. “I want you.” He tells you this diurnally. “I need you.” 

He yearns, in a way that is new to you. 

Your boyfriend must be evolving before your very eyes. He’s delicate in his demeanor but deliberate in his delivery. Even now, as his fangs skim across the thin skin of your inner wrist, they do not press in. They do not break and they do not prod. They retract, and are replaced by the plush of lips as Isagi peers at you with a zealous gaze. 

It is mindful, and not hasty. 

“Will you invite me in?”

He’s asking like he already knows the answer. Like he has no doubt of what will come. You wonder when such an ego filled him—or maybe it has always been there. Maybe, he was simply waiting for the right moment to release it. Maybe, he was hiding it away, to use it for his advantage when the time proved to be right. 

Maybe, you find that hopelessly endearing. 

“Yoichi.”

“Yes?” 

He’s hanging onto your every word with pleading eyes and fervent apprehension. But his confidence is still oozing. You wonder how so much essence can inhabit a single man. You discern it must be all the centuries he has under his belt. 

“Would you like to come in?”

The answer isn’t verbal, it isn’t spoken. No, the answer is brash and boorish and downright primitive. But for once you don’t think you can find it within yourself to mind all of that because in response to your invitation Isagi is shooting forward. Stumbling you backwards a few steps and cupping a hand on your hip and the other at the base of your throat. Thumb pressed to your jugular, he wastes no time in surging forward. 

But not for a bite. 

His lips hit yours and you gasp. It dusts you with chagrin, especially as you feel a toothy grin mold to your mouth and press deeper. Isagi is not one to waste time, is not one to lag unless it plays into his schemes. And that proves true even now as he wastes no time in drawing your mouth open. Squeezing at your side and humming into your touch until you give in. Not that you ever need much convincing, in times like this. 

Your arms find their way around his neck. Your hands find place slotted into his hair. It’s unintentional, how you tug, but it rewards you with a throaty groan regardless. Isagi’s lips part from yours and you think it’s because he’s taken into consideration that one of you still needs to breathe. Instead, it’s to bark out an order. 

“Fuck, do that again.”

You hearken to him and obey with a tug. Not because he forced you, but because the heaviness of his eyelids makes your stomach grow hot. He slams his lips back to yours and he kicks the front door shut. You forgot it was even open still. You forgot the part of you that cared. All that mattered now was Isagi, inside your home. Isagi, pressing his lips to yours like he wishes he could suck wine right out of them. Isagi, slamming you up against the hardwood he just closed.

“Shit, sorry, I—“ he isn’t, sorry that is, but he is breathless. And hot. And mind numbing. You nod your head—you’re not sure for what (to dismiss him? Say it’s okay? Just because you’re already out of it?) but it doesn’t seem to matter to him regardless. 

He takes heed to your every move. Your every twitch and hitch and cinch of breath. He’s so plotting, so inceptive. His hand finds its way from your hip to the back of your thigh as he hoists you up. And you let him. Let him slide you up the door and wrap your legs around his waist and press himself into you because it feels good, to have him here. 

His lips leave yours again and you nearly whine. What the fuck has gotten into you, you don’t know, but you don’t think it’s all that relevant at the moment either because Yoichi’s lips are trailing across your cheek, down the ridge of your jaw. He makes it to the meat of your throat and his hand shifts, slides to cup your chin and tilt your head to the side. You follow his lead, melt into his grasp as he presses hungry kisses to your heavy thumping vein. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you’re already nodding before he can even finish. You aren’t even entirely sure of what he’s asking, what he’s wishing for permission for, but you know you want to give it to him. 

“Ah,” he hums, sucks a drawn out open mouthed kiss to where his thumb used to reside. “You’re so fucking hospitable.”

A sharp sting rips into the side of your neck as Isagi’s teeth sink in. It is a familiar feeling, one you can never truly get used to but you love the magnetism of. After a few seconds the initial pain wears off—grows dull into a periodic throb. And as Isagi keeps sucking, pressing himself into you like he wishes he could simply crawl inside your skin, it begins to feel good. 

A pinched whine finds its way out of you and you don’t even try to stop it. You know better. Know that Isagi likes you to take over every single one of his senses when he gets like his. Wants you to immerse him fully. And you have no intentions within yourself to deny him of that pleasure. 

Your fingers thread tighter in his hair as he preens. The vibration against your throat is soothing in a riveting sort of way and you forgot how addicting it is—the high this brings for both of you. If done right and in moderation, the effects are limited, minimal. Maybe some drowsiness for a few minutes and then you’re through. 

But your lover is not known for his restraint. 

He takes too much and gives too little. It is fine and it is well but you always know that  he’s pushing his (your) limits when your grip begins to loosen and your moans become more frequent. You can never tell him to stop—you never want to when it feels so damn good—and tonight is no different. 

Especially not when you come to terms with the heat of Isagi’s palm drifting past the crease of your hip. Skimming underneath the hem of your faded t-shirt and pressing into the plush of your abdomen. Dipping lower, toying with your waistband, teasing you like he’s playing out a game strategy. 

“Yoi,” you drawl, let your head droop into his grasp just underneath your chin. “Yoichi, fuck—Please—“

Your request, whatever your cloudy mind was going to produce, does not get the chance to acclimate due to a bang on your front door. The vibration it causes has Isagi’s fangs jerking at you, pulling a wince from your lips before he has the chance to retract. He does, a second later, and lauves his tongue over the fresh bite mark that has joined the mirage he has already created. 

“Who is it?” He asks you, still cupping your droopy head in his hand. You mumble something incoherent and he presses you again. “Hey, who would be knocking at your door right now?”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Getting your groggy brain to work right now is a monumental task, but as another bang thuds against the hardwood pressed against your back, you’re able to shake your head just clear enough to process one thought. 

“Oh, takeout,” you deduce. “I didn’t wanna cook, so I.. Here, I’ll get it. Can you grab my wallet off the couch?”

Isagi blinks right back, lids heavy, and swipes his tongue at the crimson smeared on his lips. He’s almost blood drunk. “You think you can stand?”

You nod your head even though you’re about seventy-five percent sure your knees are going to buckle out from underneath you the second he sets you back down on your own two feet. Sensing your apprehension, he takes it easy, keeping his hands on your hips until your swaying gets (semi) under control. He turns right after to retrieve what you told him and you open up the front door, painting on a nice grin in hopes that your delivery guy isn’t as angry as he sounds. 

But it isn’t a delivery guy at all. Rather, a man in a security uniform, who looks anything but pleased. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” You question, halfway leaning against the door to hold yourself up. You probably sound half high to hell right about now. 

“Sorry to bother you. I got a call from a concerned neighbor about a neighborhood disturbance to this address. Something about a strange man lurking on the front porch  and harassing the owner.”

“Oh,” you cinch up your eyebrows, tip your head to the side. Strange man? Harassment? You don’t think—

“Here’s your wallet,” Isagi announces as he finally makes it back to you. The second you feel him skid to a halt behind you, the dots clear up and connect in your foggy mind. 

“Strange man,” you equate, as you glance over your shoulder at him.

“What?”

“There seems to be a misunderstanding,” you dismiss as you turn your attention back to the man standing outside your door. “The man—this man—is my boyfriend. He is a little weird but he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just an odd one.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean—“

“Ah, understood,” the security man nods, and you swear you can see a faint smile on his lips. “You know old neighbors, nothing better to do than stick their noses where they don’t belong. Again, sorry for the inconvenience. You two have a nice night.”

“You too,” you nod, send him a smile to be polite as he goes to walk away. 

Just as you’re starting to shut the door back he turns back around, “Oh, and you have a little something..”

His gesture to his neck has you slapping a hand over yours. You wince a second later—too tender, and too harsh—and pull your hand back to reveal tacky red coating it. By the time you look back up, the guard is gone. You shut the door and turn back to Isagi. 

“Oh no, don’t let the strange man get you,” he taunts, and you simply shove your hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

His tongue presses to it a second later, swiping at the blood and humming like he hasn’t an ounce of shame within his body. You let him as long as he pleases (not really having the energy within you to put up much of a fight now) and try to bite off the smile that toys at your lips as he grabs your wrist to tug you in closer again. 

“I don’t think I was finished.”

“Then pick back up where you left off,” you chuckle, letting it turn into a string of giggles as Isagi’s lips place feathery pecks around his claimant. 

He pushes your back against the door again, leans his weight into you and breathes you in. Allowing yourself to relax, you give in to his whim. His kisses turn languid and his grip tightens up. Your brace yourself for what is coming with an anticipated smile. 

But just as you feel cool breath fan against your fresh wound, another (much softer) bang rattles your back. Isagi lifts his head up to peer at you, meeting your gaze in an instant. 

“Takeout,” you both say in unison, one of your voices laced in amusement and the other in disdain. 

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[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

Ah, coffee. The nectar of the gods. Both a blessing and a curse in one.

When it had first made it's way into Hell, Lucifer hadn't given it much thought. Tea had been the go-to wake up drink for thousands of years, and while a nice drink, it had never done much for him in the stimulant department. He had maintained for years that coffee would likely have the same lack of effect as tea.

Right up until he'd had his first cup of joe.

And hadn't he been wrong. He'd nearly been bouncing off the walls for hours, before spectacularly crashing later that day. It had taken some experimentation, but he had found that if he drank half a cup of coffee over an hour, followed by slowly consuming the rest over the course of the day, it gave him the boast he needed without sending into an energy-high followed by a massive energy-crash.

Oh, what he wouldn't have done to have coffee for those first couple of years after Charlie was born. Lilith may have become Charlie's main caretaker following her toddler years, but Lucifer had been her go-to parent for those first several years.

Easy baby or not, Charlie had never had much of a sleep schedule. It was something that had followed her into her adult years. Lucifer was fairly certain that was his fault, as that was a trait they had in common. Lilith had been an early to bed, early to rise sort of person. Worse, she was a morning person.

Since mastering the art of drinking coffee, Lucifer had joined the rank of coffee lovers and dependents, unable and/or unwilling to start his day without one. Some days, it really was the only thing that woke him up.

That particular morning was one such morning. He had been up most of the night, first at the ceremony and then taking hours to unwind enough to sleep. He had eventually fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, not that long before people would start waking up and starting their day.

Half asleep, despite the late morning hour, he wandered downstairs to the kitchen. As he passed the foyer, he thought he saw Angel and Cherri suspiciously hide their faces behind their hands as they whispered to each other. Charlie and Vaggie were huddled off to the side, the former making some rather extravagant hand motions at the latter. Husk might have looked like he had swallowed a lemon, which didn't look too far off from his usual disgruntled mood, so it it didn't set off any alarm bells.

If Lucifer had been more awake, he might have guessed what all the fuss was about. He might also have brewed his coffee and then immediately teleported back to his room to avoid any gossip about his (lack of) love life.

As it was, he wasn't a fully functioning fallen seraphim until the caffeine started to hit his blood stream and he missed all the cues.

Twenty minutes later, Lucifer walked back out of the kitchen with his prize in hand. The cup was already a third of the way drank, steam still rising up out of the cup to show it was pipping hot. Caffeine not having had remotely enough time to work it's magic, Lucifer proceeded to make his first mistake of the day.

He walked into the main-lobby-slash-living-room.

Charlie immediately tuned into his presence the moment he walked into the room, which should have been a clue she was on the look out for him. Her vaguely nervous expression should have been another one.

Lucifer, in his sleepy state, only picked up on the latter one. "Morning, Char-Char." He wrapped his hands around the cup, letting the heat seep into his fingers. "Everything alright?"

Charlie took a deep breathe, rubbing at the back of her head. "Well, dad, we, um..." She trailed off, her gaze flinting over towards her girlfriend, who held both of her thumbs up in encouragement. Charlie smiled, but the quality of it fell between strained and for real, which only served to alarm Lucifer even more. Pressing her hands together, she pointed both of her pointer fingers at him. "We wanted to congratulate you."

"Congratulate me? On what?" Lucifer had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that he just wasn't a morning person. Getting the strong impression he was going to want to be awake as possible for this conversation, he proceeded to make his second mistake of the morning.

He went to take another gulp of coffee, just as Charlie said, "Well, on your new relationship with Alastor!"

Lucifer choked, the coffee going down the wrong pipe, something he had always felt was a bit unfair considering he was never quite certain if seraphim had lungs. It somehow still never stopped him from nearly choking when someone said something so outlandish it was outright ludicrous. Startled, Charlie darted forward, hand patting his back as he attempted to wheeze and hack up a possibly non-existent lung.

When he felt capable of talking without immediately coughing, he managed a half strangled, "What... relationship?"

Charlie exchanged another look with Vaggie. She continued to rub his back as she explained, "Well, we saw the videos of your dancing with Alastor and thought..."

The blonde king placed his head in his hand, suddenly understanding the, well, misunderstanding. He had known people were going to draw conclusions, but he hadn't thought about how it would look to Charlie. She had known they were going to the ceremony together, but he somehow doubt it had crossed her mind that it might go as far as an evening full of dancing.

"There's no relationship," he denied, running his hand down his face. "No relationship what-so-ever, really." He smiled at her reassuringly. "Alastor just likes to dance."

In a show of how comfortable Angel had gotten around him, the porn star shamelessly pointed out, "He wasn't the only one enjoying that dance." He leaned his chin on his hand, smile outright teasing and knowing. "Looked like you were going to do a bit more than dance for a moment there."

Lucifer's treacherous mind went back to the moment in question: the moment where all it would have taken was leaning just a little bit forward, and then they would have been ki--

He ruthlessly cut off the thought as he felt his cheeks heating up. He had resolutely refused to think of that moment since it had happened. He had refused to think about the fact that it had been haunting his dreams during what little sleep he had gotten. He was certainly not going to think about that moment in front of his daughter, her girlfriend, and her friends.

He cleared his throat, holding up one of his hands. "There is no relationship," he emphasized. He turned to Charlie, taking hold of one of her hands in his own. "I don't know if there will ever be anyone after your mother, but if there ever is, I promise I will tell you." He paused, adding, "Preferably before it winds up on a gossip rag."

She smiled at him, relief visible in her eyes. She patted the back of his hand with her free one. Supportive, she said, "I'm not going to say I wouldn't be thrilled if you and mom got back together, dad, but I just want you to be happy." Her mouth twisted at the corners. "Even if it's with Alastor."

Lucifer winced. "Not happening." He took back his hand, wrapping it back around his mug to give himself something to hold onto. Turning to the hotel's oldest resident, he asked, "How... bad is it?"

He didn't need to explain what 'it' was.

"Oh, it's bad." The spider sinner giggled as he held up his phone, a news headline in big bold letters read, THE KING OF HELL SHACKING IT UP WITH THE RADIO DEMON? "It's been all 666 News would talk about last night."

Lucifer resisted the urge to put his face back in his hand or retreat back up into his room and not come out for the next century. It could really go either way, at that point.

A touch of sympathy could be found in Angel's eyes as he said, voice as close to reassuring as the blonde had ever heard it, "Aw, don't worry, your Majesty. I'm sure it'll blow over as soon as the next scandal pops up."

Which, knowing Hell, wouldn't be that long.

Lucifer internally groaned. It wouldn't be soon enough, if one were to ask him. He almost glanced up at the ceiling, towards the direction of Alastor's radio station and suite. He wondered if the Overlord had seen the news and how he was responding to it.

Knowing him, he was likely thinking of how to spin all of this in his favor, if he decided to entertain it at all.

Unwilling to let the news or thoughts of a certain radio demon sour his morning any further than they already had, Lucifer scrambled to change the subject. "So, how are things going with the trust exercises?" He didn't have to try hard to look interested in his daughter's latest plans, although he mentally apologized that he was mostly asking to distract her from his own issues. "Thought of any new ones?"

Charlie, bless her, was all too happy to talk about her latest plans. Snagging his arm, she tugged him over to a corkboard she had set up. Various hand drawn notes and print outs were pinned to the board. Some had parts of them crossed out, while a few had stars on them. "I think I have some new ideas!" She pointed to the ones with the stars on them. "I was thinking maybe we could try this one out at the next meeting." There was nothing forced about this smile when she turned it on him. "What do you think?"

Happy to have something else to think about and even more happy to have her asking for his impute on anything, he squinted at the page she was pointing to. On it, it gave detailed instructions about different team building exercises and how to carry them out. The one in particular that she was pointing to was called, 'Human Knot.'

It appeared to be fairly simple. A group of people stood around in a circle and got themselves 'tangled up' by taking the hands of two other people. The goal of the exercise was for the group to untangle themselves without letting go of anyone's hands. It sounded like it might be a fun activity, if everyone was willing to get touchy-feely with everyone.

Alastor would never agree to participate in this. Lucifer wasn't certain he would enjoy participating in this, either. The thought of touching so many people who weren't family or close friends was overwhelming. At least, while sober. It gave him too many Twister vibes and the less he thought about that game the better.

There was a reason it was Asmodeus' favorite 'family' game.

Scurrying out of the wood work, Niffty appeared with a needle the length of her head. Speared through on the end of it was a cockroach the size of her hand. Disturbingly enough, it was still twitching. She peered up at the board, her eye lighting up at the details of the trust exercise. "Ooooo! That one looks fun." She peered up at Lucifer in that way she did that always set his hackles up. "I can hold hands with all the bad boys in the room..."

Lucifer laughed nervously as she scurried off as quickly as she had appeared. Something of his true feelings must have shown on his face, because Charlie's smile was beginning to slip. Which was just not allowed. "It's fine," he rushed to reassure her. "I'm just worried not everyone will want to participate, because of the level of touching." Desperate to save her good mood, Lucifer pointed to the option underneath the one she had showed him. "What about this one?"

She leaned in, reading the name. "Two Truths and a Lie?" It wasn't one she had starred and her tone was a bit dubious.

Angel appeared at their side. He stabbed the board with a finger. "Now there's a fun game, especially if you turn it into a drinking game." He waggled his eyebrows at them, suggestively.

Vaggie rolled her eyes. She came up behind the sinner, her hands on her hips. "We are not doing any drinking games during trust exercises."

The sinner pouted at her. "Is it your mission to suck all the joy out of my life?"

The former exterminator was unimpressed. Ignoring his theatrics, she asked, "What does the game entail?"

Angel's phone pinged with a notification. Loosing interest in the conversation in favor of whatever it was, he wandered off across the room to pull it up. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw the spider demon become caught up in what sounded like a video clip, he wasn't paying enough attention to make out the audio.

Feeling invested now that he was interested in potentially participating, Lucifer jumped in to answer. "Pretty much what it says on the tin. You tell two things that are true about yourself, along with a lie. The goal is for everyone to try and figure out which is the lie."

Charlie tilted her head to the side. "And this is supposed to... build trust?"

Vaggie seemed to be catching on. "It's a way to get to know people, babe. You get to tell people thinks about yourself, while they try to see how well they know you in return."

The host of the hotel didn't look convinced.

Lucifer cracked a grin. "Come on, it sounds like it'll be fun, Charlie." He lightly patted her on the arm. "We could try it out now and see what you think?"

She looked to him, and then to Vaggie, who nodded. Charlie mulled over it, before nodding her head. "Okay! If everyone wants to play it, then we can do it during the next trust exercise." Getting more excited the longer she thought about it, she hugged her father around the shoulders with a single arm pulling him in tight against her. With her other hand, she pointed a finger to the ceiling. "We could have a meeting right now, in fact!"

"Uh, I hate to interrupt," Angel cut in, coming back towards them. His tone more than anything, caught their attention. He sounded horrified. "You guys might want to see this."

Lucifer, Vaggie and Charlie shared a glance between themselves. They all gathered around Angel's phone, which he had turned around to face them. Tapping the play button to start the video, a familiar voice came out of the teeny speakers.

"Breaking news: A new video was dropped today showing not everyone played an equal role in the fight on Extermination Day." Katie Killjoy's face was replaced by an aerial shot of the roof of the Hazbin Hotel. In the background, angels flooded the skies, hinting as to what day the video had been recorded. The recording itself appeared to be mid fight between what was quickly identified to be Adam and Alastor. Lucifer's eyes widened, his stomach dropping as he realized that despite having taking on the most powerful angel to visit Hell after Lucifer, Alastor didn't have any angelic weapons on him.

Why? Why would he be so reckless. Lucifer had seen the shield wielding angelic spears, so why didn't Alastor have any?

Holy shit, he had actually taken him on with just his own shadows.

The recording fizzled, temporarily cutting off as Alastor throwing Adam into the old hotel sign. Lucifer's blood turned cold as it phased back in, just in time for Adam's guitar to come down and slice effortlessly through Alastor's staff. The radio host looked confused for a moment, before realizing the extent of the damage. This much Lucifer had already deduced from seeing Alastor's broken staff weeks ago and while he had been suspicious that more had happened, it was still difficult to watch what happened next.

"It seems Hell's resident old timer bit off more than he could chew," Katie was narrating as Adam swung his guitar - made of pure angelic grace - straight across Alastor's chest, sending the sinner soaring across the roof. His momentum was only stopped as he hit the barrier. The sinner crumpled to the roof, blood splattering the ground beside him, damning evidence that had disappeared when the hotel had been nearly destroyed in Adam's attack not that long afterwards.

Tiny hands and feet scrambled up Lucifer's back, signaling Niffty's return. She must have been drawn back by the commotion. Normally, he would have been extremely uncomfortable with being used as a living cat tree for her to climb, but in this instance he was too absorbed by video to pay her much attention. A part of him also knew that she and Alastor was close, whatever their relationship was with each other. It would have been more surprising if she hadn't shown up.

"He needed so many stiches after that." Niffty made a low, mournful noise at the sight that greeted her on the phone's screen. "He was in so much pain..."

Lucifer's whole body froze up. Alastor had needed stiches?

As if coming unfrozen, Charlie gasped in horror, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Vaggie's expression was grim as she placed a hand on her elbow. As angels who had seen the kind of damage angelic grace could do to sinners, rare that such a weapon was employed, Lucifer and Vaggie both knew that such a wound should have been fatal.

Lucifer had thought that Alastor's staff had taken the brunt of the attack. That maybe he had only been grazed, at worse. That should have been the extent of the damage.

It had never occurred to him that Alastor might have taken the attack full on.

It was baffling that Alastor was still alive.

The video didn't come with audio, so they couldn't hear what Alastor was saying as he did the first smart thing he had done since he decided to take on Adam without a useful weapon and retreated. "And there you have it everyone," Katie was saying, her tone and smile gleeful as she soaked in the suffering of someone who had quite the distance to fall. "The supposedly big bad Radio Demon running away like a with his teeny, tiny, fluffy little tail between his legs like the fucking coward that he is."

The screen pulled away to show her cohost, Tom Trench. "Do you think he ran off to wherever he was hiding for seven years?"

"Who gives a shit, Tom." Katie turned her head in such a way that it appeared to break her neck. "He's a washed up has-been who should have stayed away--"

The phone disappeared, Charlie having darted forward and hit the pause button. Her hands hid the screen from view.

For a long moment, the present group blankly stared off into the middle distance, trying to digest what they had just seen. Each of their faces ranged from out right horrified (Charlie's) to grim (Vaggie's and Husk's) to some level of worried (Angel's). All of them were thinking the same thing: about Alastor's disappearance for several days as they rebuilt the hotel and the varying degrees of relief everyone had felt when he'd reappeared, seemingly just fine save his missing staff.

No one had questioned why he'd disappeared.

No one had followed up to make certain he wasn't hiding a wound and potentially actively dying.

But now they all knew. There was no unseeing this, just as there had been no unseeing Sir Pentious' last moments as Adam vaporized him like he was nothing.

Lucifer, personally, was kicking himself for not checking on the wound when he had Alastor trapped. He had known something was potentially wrong - had seen the evidence in the damage to the microphone - and yet he had allowed Alastor to side track him like a willfully blind fool dancing to the piper's tune.

Lucifer found himself moving before he'd even made the conscious decision to do so. He plucked Niffty off his back, the little maid making no protest as she was lightly placed down on the ground. His cup of coffee went onto the coffee table. The moment his hands were free, he was preparing to open a portal to Alastor's room.

"Dad?" Charlie's voice calling out to him made him pause.

He turned to her, placing a hand on her other elbow. "I'm just going to check on him."

She placed her own hand over his, squeezing it as she bit her lip. "Dad, you saw how badly he was hurt." Guilt was visibly crashing down over her as her eyes welling up with tears. "I knew something was wrong. Why didn't I check to see if he was okay?" Vaggie stepped in and hugged her as Lucifer squeezed her arm.

"He clearly didn't want any of us to know he was hurt." He debated saying anything about the blood drinking. Alastor had looked tremendously better afterwards and it might go a long way to easing some of her worries about how injured the sinner was. He just didn't know how to explain how they had gotten to that part.

He decided to settle for a partial truth. "He didn't tell me how hurt he was, but he's already let me help him some." Charlie sniffled, turning hopeful eyes on him. "If I had to guess, I'd say the wound is all healed up." He smiled at her reassuringly. "I'll see if I can get him to let me check to make certain everything is better, okay?"

She nodded, wiping at a tear. "Just, make certain he's okay." She moaned, low and wounded. "I can't lose him too, dad."

Lucifer looked to Vaggie, who nodded back to him. "I got her, sir."

Lucifer stepped back. His instinct to stay and comfort his offspring at war with his desire to make certain Alastor was okay. The only reason he was going to be able to do so was because Vaggie had her and he was likely the only person who could make certain their resident radio host wasn't being eaten up from the inside out by any residual grace Adam might have left behind.

A quick burst of magic opened a portal directly into Alastor's room. He stepped through without waiting to see if Alastor might need any privacy, not wanting the sinner to potentially turn him away. He was going to get that idiot into letting him inspect that wound once and for all, even if he had to sit on him to do it.

Curse Alastor and his stupid pride for not having said anything! He could have put in it the favors with his microphone, for crying out loud.

"Alastor!" His voice echoed through the room, disappearing off into the bayou. Lucifer scoured the sinner's room from top to bottom. He didn't see him in his bed, nor at the fireplace, nor at his little table in the bayou. He raised his voice to as loud as he could make it without causing any damage. "Come out, you asshole, before I hunt you down!"

No response.

There was a possibility he was out in the bayou, as there was no way of being sure how far out it extended without going out into it. He had one foot out on the grass, when the old fashioned radio on Alastor's bookshelf crackled to life.

"Greetings, sinners! It's come to my attention that there seems to be some questions about my health recently."

Lucifer threw himself across the room, grabbing hold of the radio. His head darted up as he stared up at the ceiling. He could teleport himself into the station, but that risked interrupting the Radio Demon's broadcast. Until he knew what exactly the sinner was planning, he didn't want to spook him.

It didn't mean he couldn't keep an eye on him, though.

He crossed the room in seconds, throwing open a window. Looking up, he could see the On Air sign was lit, indicating that Alastor was indeed in his radio tower. Launched himself out of the window, Lucifer took flight as Alastor said through the radio, "Never fear, dear listeners, because nothing as simple as a silly angel could take out the Radio Demon."

Lucifer snorted, coming up to hover in full view of studio. 'Silly angel,' he calls an actual archangel that had destroyed the hotel and by all rights should have killed him.

Inside the studio, Alastor spotted him. The sinner's eyes were aglow, pupils turned to dials. He had grown as large as the room would allow him to get without taking the roof off, antlers extended out like fingers reaching out to the sides of the room. A bright green 'x' marked the spot on his forehead. As his eyes fell on the little king, a streak of black drool dribbled down his chin as his smile elongated far beyond what should have been possible for his face. His fingers twitched and curled, a single finger pointing to the other side of the tower. "In fact, I think a certain voyeur needs a little reminder as to why he should mind his own business."

Lucifer frowned, not understanding what Alastor planned to do at first. It was only because he had come out the side of the hotel, furthest from his own room, that he isn't hit by the powerful wave of radio waves bursting forth from the tower. Startled, he jerked out of the way, spinning around mid-air to see where they were going.

He watched, unsurprised to see them heading for VoxTek. It figured that Vox was behind the video. He'd had footage of other parts of the fight, it shouldn't be surprising he had been spying on Alastor when Adam had come a calling. When he didn't see another wave leave the tower, he chanced moving around the obstruction the tower made of the view to better see what effect that wave was going to have.

It was difficult to see from that distance, but he could just make out the wave hitting the satellite. Could see the plum of smoke rising up as the machinery went dead. The satellite was still standing, but it likely wasn't operational. At least, not for the moment.

He raised an eyebrow at the redhead through the window. Petty, much?

Depending on how terrible the Alastor's eyesight was - deer had notoriously bad eyesight- it was entirely possible he couldn't see the damage he had inflicted himself. Regardless of his poor eyesight, he somehow knew anyway, perhaps having that much confidence in his attack. Alastor's grin was pleased as a cat having caught a canary. "Friendly reminder that I won't be as lenient next time."

The radio in Lucifer's arms cut off with a crackle as Alastor reached out and flicked a switch on his board. The two stared at each other, waiting to see what the other planned to do next.

When Alastor didn't move other than to settle back down into his more default appearance, Lucifer decided to come to him. He disappeared in a swirl of magic, reappearing a moment later in the studio. He fully materialized back into being behind the redhead.

Alastor didn't turn around, continuing his work as if he didn't have his back to someone who could easily kill him with a flick of the wrist. Lucifer took the time to study him more in depth than he had in the previous months. The sinner didn't move like he was in pain. Then again, he never had. The only indication he had ever given that something was off was when he never called on his microphone in the months before he got Lucifer to repair it.

There was nothing to tell he had ever taken a hit of pure angelic grace to the chest. Lucifer didn't feel anything coming off him either.

A visual inspection wasn't going to be enough, when it came to this kind of wound. If he was to do a proper inspection, he was going to have to talk Alastor into letting him touch him. It was almost a shame he hadn't known when he was healing Alastor's ribs and side two nights ago. He could have checked then and this whole conversation could have been avoided.

The silence extended. Lucifer was suspicious Alastor knew why he was here and was planning to wait him out. The little king fiddled with the radio's dials, suddenly glad he had decided to grab it, if only to give him something to do with his hands. One of them was going to have to kick start this conversation. It might as well be him. "You didn't say Adam got you in the chest."

The sinner made that little 'hm' sound he liked to make. It could have been in response to what the blonde had said. It could have just been in response to something Alastor was seeing on his equipment.

"Angelic grace is bad for sinners, you know." Lucifer's hold on the radio tightened, not quite certain if he was being ignored or not. "It can grow like a cancer until it burns you up from the inside out." He leaned from foot to foot, feeling more twitchy the longer Alastor didn't speak to him. He stopped the moment he noticed he was doing it. "You should have said something."

Whatever Alastor was looking for, he seemed to find for he nodded at his equipment in satisfaction. He finally rose up off his settee, the movement as fluid as ever. "There was nothing to worry about." He stepped around the furniture, waving off the concern as if batting away a fly. "I had it handled."

"'Handled'?" Lucifer's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Handled how, exactly? By having Niffty sew you up?" His grip tightened on the radio, enough to make it give a little creak of protest, but not enough to truly threaten to break it. "You couldn't have known I was going to offer my blood. And just because it healed the physical wound that doesn't mean it cleared the grace."

Alastor's eyes zeroed in on his radio in Lucifer's hands. The thinning of his lips indicated he wasn't thrilled with the idea of his property coming to damage. "What exactly do you propose to do?" He reached out to reclaim the radio.

Lucifer took a step back, keeping himself and the radio out of arms reach. "Let me check the wound."

The sinner's fingers twitched before curling in. He let the hand drop. "What does that entail?" He followed after the blonde, first one step and then another, meeting each retreat with an advance.

Lucifer continued to back away until his back hit the window. On reflex, he glanced behind him. All that stood between himself and a drop was a thick panel of glass.

Alastor took advantage of his distraction to steal back his radio. "Out with it. You're too twitchy for this to be a simple look over."

The blonde flexed his hands, now empty of anything to use for stress relief. "No, I'd have to touch your bare skin to be sure there's nothing there."

The hand not holding the radio came up, all four finger splaying out as Alastor laughed out a short, sharp, "Ha!" He wagged a single finger of the same hand at the seraphim. "Not going to happen!"

Before Lucifer could protest or attempt to make his case, Alastor disappeared into his shadows. He scurried past him, slipping down the trap door and out of the studio.

Lucifer stared at where the redhead had just been, gapping. That... That idiot! Didn't he hear the part where he could be infected with the equivalent of a deadly poison that could be eating him up from the inside out?

Growling, Lucifer opened a portal back down into Alastor's room. If Alastor wanted to see who was more stubborn, the hundred-something year old sinner or the first sinner himself, Lucifer was more than up for the challenge. Stepping through, he found Alastor over by his book shelf, returning the radio back to it's prior resting place.

Frustrated, Lucifer marched over to him, seriously considering throwing up a barrier around the room to keep Alastor from running away again. "Hey! I wasn't done with you, mister!"

Alastor finished setting the radio to his preference, and then turned around to meet him head on. "I hardly see how we have anything more to talk about." He placed his hands behind his back, the very picture of unconcerned. "I've already declined your offer."

Lucifer threw his hands up. "Aren't you worried? This isn't a game! This could be your life on the line!"

Alastor leaned in to his personal space, his lips starting to twist into a smug, cat like grin. "Tell me, sire, why are you so worried?"

"Hello? Really?" Lucifer crossed his arms, defensive. "Have I not said that if Charlie cares than I care?" He sighed, looking away and begrudgingly adding, "She was really upset when you went missing and it would break her heart if something happened to you."

Alastor considered him for a long moment. Suddenly, a very loud buzzer tore through the air, causing the blonde to jump. "Hm, no, I think not." He flicked at one of the Lucifer's blonde flyways with a single finger, eyeing him up and down as the shorter of the two glared at him. "You know, I could almost believe that was the reason." He leaned away, tapping his chin. "But we both know that's not the whole truth."

He stepped around him, walking away and putting some distance between them. "I propose a little deal."

Lucifer scoffed, defense turning to irritation. He was starting to regret attempting to help this asshole. "You can't be serious."

Coming to a stop half way across the room, Alastor came to a halt. "Oh, come now, sire. Not that kind of deal." He spun around, one heel coming together to click against the other. One hand settled against the small of his back, while his staff appeared in the other. He used it to point at his uninvited guest. "If you tell me the real reason you care so much and I like the answer, I'll let you see for yourself that I'm perfectly fine."

He almost couldn't believe his ears. Lucifer stared at him, incredulous. "Are you actually holding your life hostage over this??"

Alastor twirled his staff, a mock considering look on his face. He shrugged, far too nonchalant for the subject. "Hm, I guess I am."

Lucifer could feel his self control fraying at the edges. He had clearly been far too lenient with this sinner if Alastor wasn't even remotely taking him seriously. He held up his hand, palm facing the redhead. It would be easy to just knock him right off his feet with a small burst of power and hold him in place while he just checked to see if he wasn't actively dying. He really ought to. It might just remind this arrogant little sinner who was at the top of the food chain and who was at the bottom between the two of them.

Alastor stared at him down, patiently waiting him out.

After several long moments of arguing with himself, Lucifer lowered his hand. He hissed, as much at himself as it was at Alastor. He couldn't do this by force, not because he wasn't incapable of doing so, but because he was trying to get Alastor to agree of his own free will. "Fine!" He stalked over to the deer demon, coming to a stop just before actually touching him. Pointing his finger up at Alastor's chin, he confessed, "Fine, I'm worried because I'm a fool and I actually care about you! I would be genuinely upset if something happened to you, are you happy??" He pointed at the bed behind the redhead, nearly breathing fire as he growled, "Now sit down and let me help you."

Alastor nodded at him. "There we go, your Majesty. Isn't it better to tell the truth?"

"Sit!" Lucifer pointed at the bed, this time with more emphasis, his tone making it abundantly clear he was not going to repeat himself again.

The redhead proceeded to show that he had some self preservation instincts in that stubborn head of his, because he didn't press Lucifer's buttons again. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs and settling his hands on his knees, body language just as carefree as ever. "Would any skin do?" He held up his hand, indicating he was willing to take his glove off to give him access to bare skin.

Lucifer took a series of deep, calming breaths. He was tempted to just smother the redhead, but since that would defeat the purpose of preserving his life, the blonde put the idea on the back burner to come back to later. It would make for entertaining fodder to think about while he was trying to fall asleep that night.

When he could speak without possibly setting something on fire, he shook his head. "No, I need access to the wound." He let some of his empathy for Alastor's dislike for touch seep into his voice as he said, honestly, "Sorry. I'll try to make it quick."

Alastor paused, a quick flash of trepidation appearing across his face and then disappearing just as quickly. His smile took on more of a mask like quality, as he reached up and began to undo his tie. He set it down beside himself, the protection gem Lucifer had gifted him resting up against his thigh.

His fingers didn't shake, didn't tremble in the slightest as he unclasped his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, but his discomfort was visible in every line of his body.

Button by button, he revealed first his neck and then his chest. A thin layer of - soft, Lucifer' treacherous mind reminded him - brown fur lined his shoulders, disappearing under his shirt. A lighter, fluffier bout of fur ran down his chest, fluffing up as it was freed from the restraint of Alastor's shirt. A nasty, ragged scar peaked out the bottom of the poof of fur, running along his side. Partially hidden, the scar appeared to run from Alastor's left collar bone to the last of his right set of ribs.

How he was still alive continued to baffle Lucifer, no matter how thankful he was. He held up his hands. "Can I approach you?"

Alastor gave him the stink eye, ear twitching. He almost looked insulted. "By all means, sire. Be my guest." His fingers gripped the sides of his shirt just a little too tightly, belying his words with his true feelings. When he released the fabric, it was almost like he was prying his own hands free. He settled his hands in his lap, back ramrod straight.

Lucifer moved carefully, but not too slowly. He knew Alastor wouldn't spook. He wasn't actually a wild animal. It was still polite to approach with caution, in case he needed to stop at the drop of the hat. The redhead watched him approach like a hawk, ear twitching with every noise Lucifer made.

Lucifer came to stand in front of him, close, but not quite allowing their knees to touch. He reached out, finger ghosting over what he could see of the scar. It must have been painful. The skin over the collar bone alone was thin. The length of the gouge threatened quite a few ribs. He couldn't tell how deep it had gone, but it had not healed prettily.

He pressed the tips of his fingers to the skin near the base of Alastor's ribs, the fur just as soft as it had been on his arms. Lucifer forced himself to focus, to ignore this tidbit of information and store it in the same box he kept all the other things he was slowly learning about the redhead's body, but wasn't allowed to think about. He closed his eyes, reaching out his senses.

Alastor felt human, his sins dripping like fresh blood from his soul. Lucifer could feel the way the power of his soul mingled with the darkness of his abilities. The wound itself had indeed completely healed, although traces of its damage ran deep. Several bones had been cleaved straight through, the organs beneath clipped. Alastor had only survived as long as he had because of his particular brand of magic being uniquely adept at keeping things sewed into place and Niffty was apparently very good with a needle. Without both, he would have bleed to death for sure.

Most importantly, though, to his vast relief, Lucifer could find no trace of Adam's grace anywhere within the sinner's body. Despite the obvious damage it had made, somehow, nothing lingered behind.

Alastor caught his wrist, his grip tight enough it might have bruised another sinner. Lucifer's eyes snapped open. He allowed Alastor to pull his hand away. He didn't try to free himself when the redhead didn't immediately let him go.

"Well, sire?" Alastor looked up, his sitting down giving Lucifer the height on him for a change. "Am I going to live?" This part was said with a degree of teasing, as if to say, see, I told you so.

The fallen angel reminded himself, not for the first time, that, no, he did not, in fact, want to strangle this guy. He smirked down his nose at the redhead, enjoying the fact that he could do so for a change. "Unfortunately." He ignored the way Alastor smiled at him, as if he knew how much he was enjoying being taller for a change. "You're either secretly an angel or just one lucky asshole. No grace leftover whatsoever."

Alastor threw back his head and laughed. "As you can see, your Majesty," he said with no small amount of mirth, "I am certainly no angel."

Lucifer snorted. The Radio Demon was a sinner, through and through, and quite happy with that fact. Some humans never got over their lot in the afterlife, but Alastor had embraced it with eyes wide open.

He watched the redhead loosen his grip on his wrist, his brain promptly short circuiting as Alastor twisted their hands around until he could intertwine their fingers. "Um."

"Since his Majesty has taken such good care of me..." Alastor reached out with his free hand, snaking it up and around Lucifer's waist. The blonde might have squeaked when he was pulled forward, legs automatically parting to stand on either side of the redhead's. He only stopped when his knees hit the side of the mattress. It also brought their faces within inches of each other. Alastor's voice was noticeably deeper as he offered, "I think this deserves it's own reward."

Eloquently, Lucifer managed, "Um?"

"Your reward is: I'll let you in on a little secret." Amused with his response, Alastor stared up at him, eyes half-lidded as he stated, "I also seem to care about you, Lucifer Morningstar."

Lucifer froze, too stunned to speak. He felt like he had utterly and completely lost the script and had no idea where this was going. With anyone else, he might have been able to take that statement at face value, but Alastor had long since taught him that no weakness was too small for the redhead to exploit. Sputtering, he asked, "What?"

"Ah-ah, I know you heard me." Alastor's thumb rubbed along the edge of the top of Lucifer's pants, a simple back and forth motion the blonde was suddenly all too hyper aware of. Goosebumps broke out along the alabaster skin under the fabric. "No need for repeats just yet."

Lucifer wanted to pull away so he could clear his mind and think.

He wanted to lean in and soak up every bit of attention Alastor was willing to give him.

He swallowed. "But... but you don't even like me?" He meant it to be a statement, but it came out too much of a question. He knew he hadn't read the sinner wrong, and yet, here they were, very much off script for their usual back and forth. To say he was confused would be an understatement.

"Come now, your Majesty." Alastor narrowed his eyes, giving the blonde a gentle shake. "I think I know my own heart."

Lucifer didn't dare to breathe. "And what does your heart say?"

"That I can't think of anyone who suits me better than you do." Alastor leaned ever so slightly closer, their noses brushing as he brought their faces as close as they had been just before Mimsy had interrupted them. As close as they had been during their dance during Octavia's coming of age ceremony. "What does his Majesty's heart say?"

"Are you asking if we can get together?" Lucifer was getting too many mixed signals. He had to know what Alastor really wanted. "Romantically?"

"And if I am? Would you 'get together with me', sire?" Alastor's expression was surprisingly patient, as if he had all the time in the world to devote to sorting this out. "Romantically?"

Lucifer thought about all the times Alastor had tried to usurp his place at his own daughter's side. Thought about all the terrible, hurtful things he had said before and after Lucifer moved in. Thought of all the ways they fought and clashed with each other.

He also thought about how Alastor had helped him down from his panic attack. How it had felt to have someone come to his defense, even if he hadn't needed it. How it felt when they danced, both in private and in public. How the weight of his body had felt laying on top of his own.

He would be completely crazy to agree to this, but there was only one answer he could give.

"Yes."

Alastor's smile turned triumphant, but not mocking. "Fabulous!" He stood abruptly, knocking Lucifer off balance. The only thing that kept the little king from falling over backwards was the redhead's arm coming up around his shoulders. Lucifer's face briefly brushed a chest full of downy fur as he was spun around. The back of his knees barely had time to brush the mattress as Alastor deposited him down onto the side of the bed where he had been sitting second beforehand.

Lucifer stared blankly ahead of himself, not certain what had just happened. Not certain what was happening.

Alastor released him, stepping back and letting go of him completely. Lucifer's heart dropped down to his feet, for a split second thinking that he had gotten this wrong. That he had misread the situation. That this was just another game--

A hand pressed against his cheek, snapping him out of his spiral. When Lucifer looked up at him, he noted that the redhead had merely been buttoning up his shirt.

Alastor ran a thumb over his cheekbone, and then gave him a pat. "Now, I believe there's at least one person downstairs who would like to hear I've received a clear bill of health. Shall we go reassure her?" That patient expression was still firmly in place, his gift for reading people allowing him to pick up nearly immediately that Lucifer's mind set had begun to go downhill.

Lucifer still wasn't sure he understood what had just transpired between them. He needed Alastor to just be clear with him. "Wait, what about--?"

Alastor was already spinning around on his heel, slipping his arms into his coat and heading for the door. Over his shoulder, he called, "Come along, sire." He paused near the door, turning just enough to look back at Lucifer, who was still rooted to the spot on his bed. The sinner held out a hand, palm up in invitation. "I did say us, did I not? I believe we might have an announcement to make, do we not?"

A wave of relief washed over Lucifer. "You..." He jumped up from his seat, not quite running, but certainly not simply walking across the room to take hold of the offered hand before the offer was retracted. The leather of the glove was smooth and cold to the touch as he wrapped his hand around it. Lucifer stared down at their joined hands, marveling at the fact that he was being allowed to do so. He looked up at Alastor. "You want to go public? Just like that?"

He somehow would have thought Alastor would have just let people come to their own conclusions. He seemed the type to enjoy the attention of everyone's speculations.

Alastor pressed his free hand to his chest. "Sire!" His tone was scandalized, although his eyes were squinted with mirth. "Did you intend for me to be your dirty little secret?"

"No!" Lucifer flushed, trying to pull his hand back, only to be denied. He admittedly wasn't trying to free himself very hard. "I just..." He frowned, genuinely concerned. "It's so early and... new." He stared down at their hands, squeezing lightly. "Literally just now, new."

Alastor fell silent. He didn't appear to be offended by the protest. "Very well, your Majesty," he conceded. He released Lucifer's hand, bemused by his king's look of mourning at the loss of contact. "We will keep this between ourselves, although I doubt anyone is going to be fooled."

Lucifer decided if they were really going to start dating or whatever they were doing, they were going to nip that in the bud. Hands on his hips, he pointed out, "Well, they certainly might if you keep calling me that."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know... 'your majesty' and 'sire.'" Lucifer waved a hand in the space between them. "You can call me by my name. I know you know it." He smirked up at the sinner, regaining some of his confidence now that he was back on firmer ground and understood the situation better. "You said it not even ten minutes ago."

"Hm, Lu-ci-fer," Alastor said, drawing out the word as if he were tasting it. Trying out how he liked it. He pulled face. "I'll think about it."

"Ugh, why do you have to be so difficult?" Lucifer grumbled, half heartedly. He reminded himself that he had more or less done this to himself. He had accepted this idiot into his life with each inch of allowance he'd given and had now agreed to become romantically entangled with him on top of everything else.

"Ha!" Alastor opened his door. He held out his cane in front of him, indicating that Lucifer should go first. "We both know if I were agreeable all the time I would be boring." When the blonde cleared the door way, the redhead joined him in the hallway and shut the door behind himself. "And then where would we be?"

Boring was the last thing that came to mind if Lucifer were to describe Alastor. Alastor and boring were so utterly and completely not on speaking terms, they weren't even speaking the same language. He let the sinner set an easy pace as they made their way down the hallway to the main staircase. "Maybe." He was tempted to elbow the sinner, but just because he had been allowed some liberties, he wasn't certain how much (if anything) had changed on account of the change in their relationship status. He put it on a to-do list of things to discuss the next time they were alone. "But it would be nice if you were at least agreeable sometimes."

He wasn't actually expecting any sort of agreement on that part.

Sure enough. "It's too early in our relationship for me to start agreeing with everything you say, darling," Alastor snarked back without missing a beat. The ends of his lips quirked into something closer to a smirk.

Lucifer felt a shiver run up his spine at the pet name. No one had called him that in... well, he didn't even remember the last time Lilith had called him that. Called him anything other than his name, really. He had forgotten how nice something as simple as an endearment was.

Alastor's smile edged a little closer to a smirk until it was almost more smirk than smile at his reaction. Lucifer had the sudden foreboding feeling that the redhead was going to milk that new discovery for all it was worth.

He wasn't terribly worried about it.

As they made their way down the staircase, walking side by side, not touching, but standing a little closer to each other than, Lucifer felt like things might actually be turning around for the better. He was getting to repair his relationship with his daughter. He had a brand new romantic relationship to explore, something he hadn't had the chance to do in some ten thousand years. He was still having depression spells and there might be some backlash from Alastor's and Vox's ongoing sniping at each other, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.

He stared at Alastor out of the corner of his eye, an almost giddy feeling taking root in his heart as it started to really sink in that someone actually wanted him. Wanted to be with him.

He didn't have a clue what the sinner was thinking, nor was he absolutely convinced of Alastor's motives. He still had whatever his second favor was. However, mysterious motives and taciturn attitude aside, Alastor wasn't half bad as a catch, if he did say so himself. If Alastor was being honest about this, he thought they maybe actually had a shot at this.

Yes, Lucifer thought to himself, a slight skip in his step. Yes, he quite thought things were indeed looking up.

For a brief moment, he forgot that the universe hated him, always on the look out for when his life might be headed in a happier direction. That the universe had it out for him.

And it was more than happy to remind him of this fact.

tbc

Part 19

[dandelionpixels]

charlie kelly x reader

(romantic)

ask: can i request hcs for how charlie kelly would comfort his s/o :33 thank u!

- He’s so penguin-coded tbh, he’s always bringing you little rocks and figurines he finds outside. He always keeps some in his coat pockets just in case you get bummed. Slowly but surely your room is filling up with little knicknacks that he’s brought you over time.

- One night when everything is just too much and you burst into tears while sitting on the floor of Paddy’s, he just sits with you and puts his green jacket over your shoulders. He clearly doesn’t know exactly what to say but he bumps his head into yours like a friendly cat.

- His favorite thing in the world is when he can convince you to sit at the bar while they’re open. So you can work on your laptop or read a book while the gang serves drinks. It’s a good way for you to get out of the house when you’re feeling down, and he just loves getting you see everytime he looks up.

- He’s also such a physical touch guy. It took him a while to get comfortable and trust that you actually want him around, but now he’s all in. He runs up behind you and grabs your waist, twirls you around when he’s done mopping the bar, pretends he’s a prince so he can kiss your hand dramatically, absentmindedly tries to braid your hair but usually just ends up tangling it.

- When you’re upset, his go-to method is to make you laugh. He’ll pull out all the stops, trying and failing to do gymnastics, performing musical numbers for hours on end, coming out in increasingly ridiculous costumes. He won’t give up until you’re bent over laughing.

- One day when you woke up feeling awful, Charlie promised he could help and then disappeared to the kitchen for a suspiciously long time. When he returned, there was a plume of smoke following him, his hair was charred, and he was holding a plate of what you guessed was an omelette. You gently suggested you guys go out for breakfast and he readily agreed.

btw i have some more charlie stuff here and here and here and and here and here and also here!! i luv him <3

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Yo! I've been thinking of an au I'd like to share! I hope it's up your alley cause I have no one else to tell it to, but I think you'll like it 🥺

It's adamsapple (obviously). The quick run down is that when Adam dies (either in the final battle of season one or when he dies on Earth and instead of going to heaven, he goes to hell (but i think I'm leaning towards the final battle death fitting much better)), he respawns as a succubus, but he doesn't look like the one from Helluva Boss (if you know the one I'm meaning), I'm thinking more feminine, like Verosika. But still a dude (with both parts down unda for smut reasons).

At first he was a bit weirded out but the longer he lives in hell the more into it he is (he was a whore in heaven so it's only right be becomes a whore in hell).

Maybe after a few years of doing his thing, partying, fucking, wearing the hornist clothes, rocking it out on stage, Lucifer eventually finds Adam (not sure how, I like to think he sees him around a couple of times but as much as this succubus looks like Adam, there's no way he'd respawn as something that's usually hellborn- but the resemblance is uncanny?!).

Adam sees Lucifer and the hotel gang around, but of course he tries to keep away, and not bring too much attention to himself (which, unsurprisingly, he finds that hard to do). I like to think that other than Lucifer, Adam runs into Angel Dust a lot, because Vals taken a liking to him (he doesn't sign a contract but maybe Val pays him to work in some of his clubs, whether that's poll dancing or serving customers).

Angel also has the same feeling as Lucifer. "Is that... Adam? There's no way..."

He mentions it to Charlie and Husk, Charlie doesn't think too much of it but obviously mentions it to Lucifer and Vaggie. I like to think Vaggie is ready to spear this succubus just in case it is him (or she just hates him that much that she would be semi hostile to anything or anyone that looks like him), Lucifer is getting more suspicious. "If Char's friends think that succubus looks like him then maybe I should investigate more".

I would love for Alastor to be quite involved in this au as well, he's still butt hurt that Adam landed a good hit on him, and made him retreat (putting a huge damper on his public image, especially with Vox filming the whole thing).

I'm not 100% sure how they confirm it's Adam, I'm thinking Lucifer hires Adam for a night or two, but Adam does such a good job keeping his cool (even tho he's panicking on the inside) that Lucifer starts doubing that it's him, so he comes up with a plan.

Maybe Lucifer brings up Eden as conversation, knowing that's its a real touchie subject for Adam, he says lies, brings up Liliths accusations she had against Adam that turned Angel!Lucifer against Eden!Adam (him being controlling, forcing himself on her, which is a complete lie that Lilith told (I'm all for evil!Lilith lol)).

Adam gets so mad at Lucifer for telling a totally fabricated story and just goes OFF. 10,000+ years of anger, betrayal, pstd, and depression just coming out. And even tho Adam realized halfway through into his rant that he's blown his cover, he just can't stop. He's too furious.

Lucifer: so it is you..

Adam: ...well fuck *proceeds to quickly grab his clothes and runs out*

Lucifer: You're not getting away from me bitch-! (Lucifer would catch up to him, start attacking him again like he did at the final fight, but he sees how terrified Adam is. Just shaking and crying, and actually begging for his life. Lucifer stops, he's never seen Adam beg, let alone cry, not since Eden (and that brings up feelings Lucifer buried long ago)).

I like to think that once it comes out to the hotel gang that it is Adam (Charlie would try and convince him to try redemption (mainly so he can get back to heaven and put a good word in for her hotel, maybe be the go between between Heaven and Hell)), but surprisingly to everyone, he doesn't want to go back, he can finally be himself, and he isn't hating his whole succubus look, even tho it's slightly feminine but he's fine with it.

This is when I think Alastor would try and get revenge, not sure what that could be yet.

Anyway, I think I've rambled WAY too much, u hope I haven't lost you 😅

I really hope this is something that piques your interest, I just love the idea of a more feminine whore Adam, plus I love the succubus designs in Helluva boss, the wings, horns and colour's are so gorgeous to me!

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk- I love your work by the way! It's such a joy to just scroll through your page and read everything you're doing 🥺

Okay- bye!

My good anon I am IN LOVE with this idea!! Especially since Adam didn't sell his soul to anyone, he's whoring around because he WANTS to not because he's forced to.

I love everything about this.

Lucifer would SO bring up Eden shit to out Adam and of course it would work. Adam is prideful like Lucifer is.

If you're on my page you know I like one-sided Angelicradio...... Just saying. And Alastor isn't attracted to Adam because he's good looking, though that doesn't hurt, he is enamored with the power Adam had as an angel.

He would want to get his revenge anyway possible. Take that as you will.

AWWWWWWW 🥺 💖 You're so sweet anon that makes me so happy to know people actually enjoy the silly little stories I put out. You made my day 🥰

[stellocchia]

Maybe platonic Undyne & Sans? They have to socialize with each other with Alphys or Papyrus as a buffer.

The rules for the requests are on This Post.

Hell yeah! I basically never see stuff for those two, so I'll gladly write something.

---

Life on the Surface had been great for the most part. The monsters had mostly settled around Mount Ebbott as humanity at large was still suspicious and hostile toward them, but their lives were decidedly better out of the Underground.

Sans had dropped all of his previous jobs in favor of becoming a science teacher in the newly-opened mixed elementary school (both monsters and human students were allowed, but teachers were still predominantly human, so getting a job there hadn't been easy. He'd needed some help from Toriel who was an English teacher there as well as one of the founders).

Papyrus had gotten a job as a line cook at a local fast-food place. Couldn't be happier. Alphys was working with a team of scientists to study the technology of the Core and possibly export it to the surface.

And Undyne was the captain of the monster division of the police force. She'd worked hard for that to get opened up, and had needed to plead with the King for some help with the diplomatic aspects of the whole thing. Her and Alphys had also gotten married.

Overall, the four of them had remained close despite the dramatic shifts in their lives. So much so that they met up every Friday evening after they were all done with their jobs.

Usually, they met at Alphys and Undyne's place. Undyne was always there first, followed by Papyrus, followed by Sans (who always made sure to take a lengthy afternoon nap not to get there too early), and Alphys came in last.

That particular Friday, Sans had forgotten to take his nap so he'd arrived unusually early. Undyne was still preparing some snacks for the evening (some charred black sludge that probably would have been unedible for them had they had taste buds. Alphys sure was glad the food was always finished by the time she arrived). Paps was still nowhere to be seen, he still had an hour or so to the end of his shift.

In Sans' defense, he did try to ask if it was better for him to come back later, but Undyne just rolled her eyes and dragged him in, lifting him up and setting him down on the kitchen table so they could chat as she cooked.

It went just as well as you may imagine...

"Did you watch the Olympics, Sans? Humans sure find bizarre ways to test their physical prowess! I would have won every category!" Undyne boasted.

Sans sheepishly looked down, fidgeting with his hands. "I don't really watch sports" he confessed.

"Oh... right. Well, have you seen any new interesting series? I've been watching a lot of stuff whenever I get the time" Undyne continued, still with just as much passion as she had for any other topic. She was such an energetic person, it was admirable.

"I only really watch TV when we watch anime together".

"Right... well, anything fun at work?" Undyne tried, yet again. This time more hesitant.

"Uhm... the kids are cool. But I'm pretty sure one of the other teachers has been trying to poison my coffee for a couple of weeks now".

Undyne's eyes went wide. "Wha- Sans! You should go to the police for something like that!".

"I don't have any organs and the poison isn't magic. It just falls right through me" he shrugged casually. "No harm in letting the poor guy make a fool of himself a bit more".

"You- right, okay". Silence falls between them for a long moment, before Undyne sighs. "You're a difficult person to talk to".

Sans snorted. "Yeah. That's why I let Paps do all the talking usually. You can't be a scientist without having social anxiety".

"Hm... well, ever thought of seeing a therapist about it? Alphys has been going, and it has been helping her. I've also been doing an anger management course, and that's been neat too. Just saying, you don't gotta struggle forever" she offered him an encouraging smile, and it made Sans actually want to consider the offer.

His and Paps' finances were a bit tight, but perhaps he could figure something out. "Maybe. Thanks 'dyne. You're cool as always".

She grinned. "Of course I am! Who do you think taught Papyrus so well?"

[carlsdarling]

Hey love! I just wanted to say I love your works and wanted to maybe ask for a request. Today is my birthday and I was wondering if you could do a Carl x reader surprise birthday related smut where maybe he surprises reader by remembering it’s her birthday (maybe he was keeping track or something) and he invites her over for a cute/romantic dinner and he saves her for dessert 🤭. Idk I thought it sounded cute and would ask.

Birthday Surprise

Carl prepares a birthday dinner for Y/N, but things are not quite going as planned... Bit more of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

Your birthday was pretty gloomy; it was the first one without your family, and nothing could really cheer you up - not even the birthday cake and the little presents that Tara and Rosita, with whom you shared a house, gave you.

Now you were alone, since the other two girls were on guard duty. It was already dawning, soon it would be dark. A knock on the door pulled you out of your somber musings. Carl was standing on the threshold. You had started dating a week ago and had already kissed a few times, but nothing more had happened yet. "Hey, sweetie," Carl greeted you, hugging and kissing you, "congratulations. I, um, I prepared a surprise for you." He gestured vaguely in the direction of his house. "Are you coming?"

You agreed, just wanting to quickly change and put on makeup, then you followed Carl out. You reached his house and entered through the back door as you sniffed suspiciously. "What's burning in here? I smell smoke," you said alarmed.

"Oh no," Carl exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen. Thick black smoke was billowing from the oven. Carl opened the oven door, and it got worse. Hastily you opened the windows, coughing, and Carl pulled a completely charred lump out of the oven. "Damn," he lamented. "That was part of the surprise!" You helped Carl air everything out and clean up the burnt cake. With great difficulty, you stifled a laugh. Carl cleared his throat. "Okay, but that was just dessert, I prepared more," he announced proudly. You steeled yourself, because as far as you knew, Carl could neither bake nor cook.

He presented a colander full of cooled, congealed spaghetti. "I just need to heat this up quickly," he promised, gesturing to the beautifully set table. "Why don't you sit down?" He lit several candles before dumping the spaghetti into a pot of tomato sauce and warming everything on the stove.

What he finally served didn't look very appetizing, but you realized how much effort Carl had put in, so you didn't give it a second thought. The noodles were mushy and the sauce far too little seasoned. It tasted awful. "Do you like it?" inquired Carl expectantly. His cheeks were flushed in the candlelight.

"Yes, it's quite great, Carl," you fibbed.

"Too bad the cake burned," he fretted, whereas you thought it was probably better that at least you had been saved from the cake. It was quite dark outside by now, and the dining room was lit only by the candles.

"So where are Rick and Michonne?" you asked.

"They went to Carol's because I said I wanted to celebrate your birthday here with you undisturbed," Carl explained. "Judith is asleep." He got up and came around the table to kiss you, and this time his kisses were more demanding and intense than usual, and when Carl grabbed your hands and playfully pulled you over to the couch, you realized he was planning to sleep with you for the first time today. Longingly, he kissed your neck. It was pretty early for that, but you were already sure after that short time that you loved Carl, and what were you going to wait for? In this new world, everything could suddenly be over any day. You stroked through Carl's hair and unbuttoned his flannel, signaling to him that you also wanted it.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he made sure. "Or is it going too quickly for you?"

"No, I want to feel you, Carl," you whispered, "I'm ready." His flannel and his shirt came off, then yours. You admired Carl's upper body, he wasn't particularly muscular, but so lean and somewhat defined, and his skin so flawless, with a few small moles.

Carl gazed entranced at your breasts and began to fondle them. Hot flashes shot down your spine. Your lower abdomen was getting hot, and you felt your panties moistening. You lay down on the couch, and Carl pulled a box of condoms out of his pants pocket and placed them on the side table.

It wasn't long before both of you had completely undressed, your clothes lying messily on the floor, and you were exploring each other's bodies. Carl's dick was a good size, with a nicely shaped red tip that glistened wetly. As you gently grasped his stiff shaft and moved your wrist up and down, Carl closed his eye and whimpered. "Oh, please, Y/N, keep going," he begged. You were delighted by the reactions you were eliciting from Carl with your actions, and you had just begun to lick and suck on his tip when Carl gripped you by the shoulders and gently pushed you away. "Wait," he whispered hoarsely. "If you don't, I'll cum right now, but I do want to fuck you."

You giggled nervously, embarrassed, as Carl unwrapped one of the condoms and slipped it on his cock. "Looks like you've done this before," you teased him.

"Um, yes and no," he said, blushing. "I practiced it a few times so, well, so nothing would go wrong." He coughed. "How... what position should we do it in?" he asked uncertainly.

You lay down on your back. "I think it's easiest that way," you said hesitantly. Carl got himself into position and rubbed his tip over your slippery entrance until you moaned softly, spreading your legs even wider and looking at him with hazy eyes. "Please, Carl, put it in," you whimpered, all wriggly with arousal. Millimeter by millimeter, Carl penetrated you. It hurt a little as he stretched you out, but the pain was displaced by excitement and by the overwhelming feeling of being so close to Carl. It took a while for his dick to be completely inside you, and you looked deeply into each other's eyes for a few seconds before Carl began careful thrusts.

There was a slight twinge, but then the pain disappeared completely, and you felt like your pussy was made of hot liquid lava, having Carl inside you made you almost senseless with arousal. You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter for him, and for the next few minutes all you could hear was both of your moans and sighs, and the sound of Carl's dick moving inside your slick folds. You stroked his back, feeling his lean muscles play beneath your fingers. His hair clung sweatily to his forehead. "Carl, I'm going to cum," you panted, biting his shoulder lightly.

"Me too," Carl returned. His poundings became more erratic, he gasped, then wrenched his handsome face and cried out in ecstasy as he had his orgasm inside you. Stars flickered across your visual field as you climaxed as well, your pussy contracting uncontrollably, over and over.

"Carl!" you screamed, while he helped you through your orgasm.

Afterwards, you cleaned yourselves up and snuggled together under a plaid. Again and again you kissed and let what had happened linger, quite dazed by the aftermath of your shared orgasm. And so you couldn't react fast enough when the key turned in the lock and a few seconds later Rick and Michonne were standing in the room. Rick gaped open-mouthed, then eyed the clothes on the floor and scratched his head, speechless, while Carl pulled the plaid up to his chin. "Ok, Carl, well, I didn't expect that now," Rick stammered, looking strained at the bookshelf. His face was all red.

"Well, I did," Michonne dryly replied.

"Did you... did you use protection?" inquired Rick anxiously, frowning.

"'Sure we did, Dad," Carl assured, his face also flushed with embarrassment. You tried not to look at anyone, the situation was so awkward.

Michonne rolled her eyes and grabbed Rick's arm to push him out of the room. "Let's get these two dressed and cleaned up," she ordered. "And air out, please," she called to you before closing the door.

Carl and you looked at each other, then burst into silly laughter.

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808

[mojjisxng]

could you write something about soft mornings after sleepovers with bf maki? something domestic n cute if you can :D

heyyy of course i can!!

this is short asf though, i’m sorry lol. i hope you like it anyways <33

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

you were unpleasantly awakened by your boyfriend jumping on your bed as hard as he could and proceeding to whack you square in the face with a pillow. to be honest, this was a usual occurrence during sleepovers with maki.

the glare you gave the boy as your eyes shot open in annoyance, made maki immediately stop his torment on you and flop down on the bed.

“ok before you shout at me y/n, i’m sorry. you’re just such a heavy sleeper so that’s my last resort because you actually wake up to it,” maki rambled, with his hands up in surrender.

‘yeah that’s true,’ you thought, yet still decided to roll your eyes, scoff and roll away from him, pulling the duvet with you. this only spurred on maki’s puppy-like behaviour. he leaned over you trying to get a peek of your face, meaning that he was almost on top of you.

“you know you love me,” maki said in a cute tone while making silly kissy faces.

“xoxo gossip girl,” you replied while giggling, as impulsive thoughts of the reference popped into your head.

“wait…we actually need to start watching season 2 because i’ve gotten super invested now, which is totally YOUR fault dude.” at that, you both burst out laughing, yet agreeing at the same time. you turned around after the pair of you stopped gasping for air from laughing too much, and wrapped your arms around maki. the both of you stayed there for a while, just being comfortable, taking in each other’s presence.

“i love you maki,” you whispered timidly.

“i love you too, more than anything, even gossip girl,” maki replied, chuckling and placing a kiss on your forehead.

maki then decided he was going to make you both pancakes for breakfast. however, when you went to the kitchen to check on him because he was taking a suspiciously long time, you found him covered almost head to toe with flour, and charred pancakes (they were basically ash) on the counter and hob for some reason.

you tried to hold the fit of laughs that was building up but you couldn’t. the pair of you were spluttering at the bomb site of a kitchen. it’s never a dull moment with maki around.

“bakery for breakfast?”

“bakery it is,” answered maki, with a salute.

[avampyone]

Prompt 6: A Visitor at Dusk

Characters: Hemlocke, Cocobuki, Lahabrea

Synopsis: After their earlier encounter, Hemlocke finds his thoughts consumed by visions of a masked man.

Setting: Ul'dah, Arrzaneth Ossuary.

Warning - none

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

The evening may have fell on the city of Ul’dah, but the burning flames of candles within the Arrzaneth Ossuary remained to welcome to visitors who wished to offer up their prayers. With the cast of shadows that grew in ever darkening hues, there was much one could hear within the echo of those temple halls. Often, fellow attendants whispered and questioned if all the dead they promised to take in their care truly found the peace they sought in their worship of Thal with the hauntings rumored to take place.

Despite the lingering chill in the air and a suspicious groaning behind the bookshelf, Hemlocke found himself distantly gazing upon on shifting the white linen cloth back and forth over the shelf in his efforts to clear away the dust. The motions were all lackluster at best with his slender brows furrowed and on his knees beside a sizable stack of old tomes he had carefully placed beside him. The ease with which he had become used to his new life here was far more suspicious to Hemlocke, but even lacking in lively extravagance, it was still better than home.

At this time, he hadn’t even paid notice that he had been swishing back and forth the same set of dust bunnies on the shelf for the past hour amidst his heavy thoughts. Hemlocke’s concentration broke to hear the soft tapping of steps he knew to be Cocobuki with his features mostly hidden under the consuming cloth of his black hood as usual, “Hm hm hm! Well, look at you now. The powers of destruction have grown strong within you. And here we all thought you a lost cause and would find your charred corpse within the month.”

Looking from the linen cloth in his hands and sleeves covered in dust, a soft uncertain chuckle left Hemlocke’s throat when he leaned back onto his haunches to look at Cocobuki, “Ever one to inspire confidence in others, mm? I am not so sure what dusting has to do with that, but thank you for the kind words, Master.” The beaming grin much akin to a gremlin possessing the lalafell’s features that had inspired worry in him in the beginning had grown on him, “Do not be up late. We wake at dawn to continue our studies of the abyss. Or in your case - blizzard magic. I look forward to seeing your progress.” He offered a wave before he turned to pitter patter off for his room.

Sucking in a breath, Hemlocke released it slowly at the reminder of the study. If one looked closely around the temple, there were thick patches of ice still thawing in spots where his last session into the arcane had gone poorly. It was difficult to mull over such thoughts for too long when he found them returning back to their strange encounter with a mysterious man wearing a red mask.

Hemlocke had not been able to stop thinking about him ever since he had hesitated to raise his staff in arms against him, “Was he from…Ishgard? No, surely not.” He murmured aloud to himself when his hands continued the useless motion of dusting off the shelf. There was a quick movement behind him of a dark figure from the corner of his eye that stepped closer – Such that one would never question here with the typical garments worn here, “My apologies, we will be closing soon- “

“So, it really is you…That I should find you here amongst them. Even if you too are only a fraction of what you used to be.” A deep voice voice rang out that stuck a cord of familiarity within him and set forth unsettling warmth to crawl along his flesh. Hemlocke’s hand curled tightly about the cloth like he fought with some inner emotion, seeking to school his features. It didn't stop the tremble of fear that forced its way into his hands.

A stern expression darkened his features and bloody depths gleamed with warning, “You must be mistaking me for someone else. Please leave -now-” He dismissed him curtly. This did not stop Lahabrea from stepping forth to cup Hemlocke’s cheek gently from where he kneeled beside the bookshelf.

As much as he wanted to pull away, there was an eerie comfort in the touch that emanated with possessive warmth. Hemlocke's eyes grew hooded and distant, leaning into the gloved hand not so unlike a bird seeking affection from their owner, “…Soon, there will be an end to all this…and a new beginning. We will return to those halcyon days...” The gruff voice felt so dangerously on the verge of madness, but within there was the fleeting timbre of hope.

These words like a splash of cold water gave away to Hemlocke suddenly smacking the hand away from his person. He quickly shifted to place a safe distance between them causing him to fumble back onto his arse in a cloud of dust, "I have no idea of what you speak of!" When he turned back to look, the figure was all but gone as if it had been no more than an apparition, “Was it my imagination..?” He had seen stranger things before, yet the lingering warmth on his cheek remained. Hemlocke’s eyes closed heavily from the running train of his thoughts that he desired peace from, “It’s time for a bath...and a heavy drink.”

[abysswalkersknight]

Here's one of the quick long fics I've been doing the past two weeks while catsitting. This was really just to past the time so I wasn't paying too much attention to it but hopefully you all enjoy.

.............................

One dark rainy season, Lilia became aware of something crawling around his domain in the woods. Judging by the light scuffles, it was surely larger than a dog.

Currently it was one of those nights where all of Briar Valley was enveloped by an endless torrent of hard, harsh rain, and filled Lilia’s cabin with the soothing melody of tinks and trickles and drips, he’d only noticed the creature because his sharp ears had picked up a faint whining sound underneath the rhythmic rain, they probably thought that nobody could hear them. Over the days the rain hailed on, enough so that Lilia could barely take a step outside before either slipping or coming ankle deep in mud. It were times like these where he was glad he was retired from the front lines and can prepare comfortably for this sort of weather, where he had also found the joys of having warm, dry clothing on hand as well as being able to easily slip out of his drenched shirt and boots and rest his aching muscles next to the blazing hearth. Perhaps it was these thoughts which had prompted him to keep an eye outside for the creature. It was starting to get really bad out there, the wind was picking up and he heard that it was beginning to flood in some places. Though it could also simply be the old habit of being mindful of enemies or the like. Seven knows how often Lilia’s had to weasel out a shoddy spy or two, or an assassin if he was lucky.

Whenever the storm had paused in its fury, Lilia would quickly venture out and check the surrounding wood, peering inside tree hollows, in the tree’s canopies, checking for any suspicious looking tracks, looking for signs of anything taking refuge in the area. Unfortunately nothing wielded anything other than the usual wildlife that lived in the area. 

He’d do this for a few days out of simple curiosity, until one day he found something that made him sigh deeply and shake his head.

During one of these breaks in the weather Lilia had left a brilliant attempt at a pie out on the windowsill  to cool off. The charred, blackened crust had been broken, letting the air into the warm, gluey heart of the pie. Yet it was not the massacred pie that had soured Lilia’s spirits. Marked on the edge of the windowsill with the purplish red insides of the pie were prints from the little hands of a small child.

With this newfound information, Lilia puts more effort into his searches, and has even taken to setting out bowls of food and water, and they were always empty by the time he came to collect them. Though soon Lilia grew to be quite restless, when suddenly more and more food were left behind each day and his heart quickened when one day he caught sight of little bits of blood swimming in one of the water bowls.

Alright, now there’s a sick child suffering out there, he pondered, trying to figure out his next course of action.

He contemplated mixing in some medicine with the food but then thought against it, he had no idea what species this child was and hadn’t the foggiest clue as to how much the average child has, I don’t even know if their constitution would allow it.

The best thing I can probably do right now is try to gauge what ails them, and for that I’ll need to catch them. Easier said than done, the child proved to be an elusive one, having discarded the food altogether once they seemed to realise that Lilia was leaving them closer and closer to the cabin. Lilia cursed, since then the only reasons he hadn’t believed that the child had perished were food stolen from the garden and the occasional weak cough he’d hear in the middle of the night. The storm has yet to let up, to the point where Lilia was worried that some of the trees around him might fall, and the water levels in the river next to the cabin were rising rapidly. Of course he could easily teleport to the castle should he need to, but that child was still out there… There was no more time left for stalling, Lilia needed to find that child now. Thankfully, despite remaining hidden from his eyes he knew the child always remained close to their best food source, so wrapping himself in his travelling cloak he dashed out into the pouring rain, mud spraying everywhere as he shot towards the river. 

Just as he suspected the river was rising quickly, having breached the banks and crawling higher. The currents were rampant, forcing the water wheel to spin wildly as it crushed any debris caught under it ‘hey! Is anyone out there!’ he calls out to the raging wind ‘child! Where are you?’ he knew it was likely that the child wouldn’t respond if they had remained as cautious as they have. But he prayed that the storm would have frightened them enough to seek him out ‘answer me! it’s alright child, it’s too dangerous out here,’

‘Ah…hel-mffh!’ ears pricking Lilia urgently flocked to the shrill cry, he called out again but couldn’t hear anything, instead he caught sight of a disturbance in the rapids. Frantic splashing amongst a pile of logs and branches partly submerged in the water, Lilia would have thought nothing of it, had a tiny hand not reached up to scramble desperately along a branch only to fall back down.

He blinked at this pile for several seconds before realising what this meant. Within a few strides he had leapt onto the strongest log, searching until he found it. A small figure trying to cling onto their branch with all their waning strength, only to have their feet slip on the eroded, muddy wall the branches grew from. He lurched forward as the child suddenly lost their grip altogether and splashed into the murky water, Lilia cursed again when he found that their arm was caught on something that had the child being tugged painfully in the current as they struggled to keep their head above the water. As he got to their branch Lilia was stunned to see that it was a little chain that was caught on a broken piece of wood pointing upwards, and connected to that chain was a little shackle fastened to an even smaller wrist, what the- no time for that! Bracing his knees against the log Lilia seized the child’s arm with one hand and grasped the wood with the other, he heaved back on the log like a fisherman hauling up his net, feeling it bent and splinter until finally it snapped right off. With no hesitation he hoisted the child up into his arms and leapt as far away from the wood pile as he could before the whole structure suddenly collapsed and crunched under the water wheel.

Now safely out of the river the child tumbled down, spluttering and coughing a brown, watery spray while Lilia collapsed beside them with a tired huff.

Woo, I’m going to be feeling this for a while, he thinks, placing a hand on his aching back. Oh the frailty of old age! He glances over to his breathless companion, quite young to judge by the height about five or six though skinny as a twig.

‘Where did you come from, little one?’ he murmurs once he’s recovered. They did not answer, but sat curled away from him and staring from under pale eyelashes. They were utterly filthy, the river doing nothing to wash away the mud and grit caked in their hair and clothes. They clutched at their shackled wrist as if preventing it from moving even the slightest inch, Lilia winces in sympathy, that does not look good ‘let’s have a look at you then’ he mutters, they were resting by the shed bit of the wheel so conveniently there was a bucket full of water right next to him, he grabbed it and before the curled figure could do anything he had splashed the water across their face, washing away the worst of the mud, revealing dull white locks. A boy? With his free hand Lilia grabbed the boy’s chin to gently wipe away the stubborn bits of dirt, he managed to clear off around the ear before the seemed to regain himself and made a panicky attempt to bite, showing off a full set of milk teeth. He let them latch on, hardly a sting at all, and stroked his head soothingly, murmuring sweet nothings until the boy let go. Lilia frowned at the tiny smattering of blood on his arm, clearly not his own. Ignoring the boy’s weakening protests he swiftly scooped him up and hurried back into the light and warmth of the cabin.

It was difficult at first to get the child in the tub but eventually they got him relaxed and melting on the edge of it while Lilia massaged soap in his hair and scrubbed to grit off those soft little limbs. It soon came as a shock to Lilia that with every rinse he gave to the boy’s locks, instead of a bone pale white he expected they soon revealed a mane the colour of glistening swords honed to perfection, a luxurious silver many would envy. But the greatest shock came when he swept a wet lock behind the boy’s round ear, such a funny shape it was, it was a shape he hasn’t seen since his time on the battlefield ‘so you are a human, my dear’ he whispers with revered astonishment. And he was so little the only humans Lilia’s seen were either full grown or barely into their adulthood, always swinging a sword or catapult at him. This one though only murmurs in contentment while leaning into his warm touch, judging from the horrible shackle he’s had to carefully snap off the sore wrist and the slight wheezing in his lungs the poor thing must have run away from a horrible place, the boy whimpered and whined as Lilia carefully rinsed off the raw broken skin, had it been left any longer he was sure it would get infected. Thankfully the boy settled once Lilia wrapped a warm wet cloth around his wrist and surprisingly nuzzled into his hand when he petted him, it was no wonder to Lilia that he’d revel in what was possibly the first kind touch he’s ever had ‘you must have been watching me all that time to be this cosy with me so quickly’ he says, drying him off with the fluffiest towel he had, it would explain the feeling of being watched he’s been having for a while he thinks as the boy startles at his own sneeze. Chuckling at such cuteness Lilia dressed him in the smallest clothes he could find, though still they were much too loose on the boy who wiggled his arms and legs around trying to find his hands and feet and for possibly the second time that day Lilia’s breath was cut off. 

Beautiful auroral eyes gaze up at him with an innocent curiosity, eyes that struck fear and longing in his heart. He knew those eyes, those were the eyes of his greatest enemy and rival, the eyes of the one who had slain his dear princess and orphaned the young prince. 

All of his centuries old rage came boiling up at once, this was now clearly a child descended from the cursed knight of dawn, one bearing his exact image. Lilia’s face had not moved at all but the child must have sensed something because his features slowly began to droop and quiver, he looked at his hand, fingers curling dangerously. He could do it, finish it right there, avenge his fallen friends, but…

Loud hiccupping startles him from his thoughts, the child was breathing fearfully, until a coughing fit took over his lungs, his body trembled with every cough working hard to hack out his very lungs, once it was over he wearily glanced to the door and back but made no move. Lilia could tell that he wanted to leave, having frightened him enough but the child was too weak at the moment, quivering with fear and exhaustion he even spied a smear of dark red on the corner of those lips trembling for breath. But there was something else in the boy’s expression that gave him pause, it was one of defeat, of accepting their fate. A look that should not be on the face on any child no matter what their origins. He sighed, all his rage sizzling into nothing, who was he kidding, this child has dealt with enough already, he didn’t need to add a centuries old grudge against his dead parents to the list. It took a little while but once again Lilia was cooing over the sweet little one in his arms, taking him downstairs to soothe his tired throat with a diluted healing potion and hot chocolate. It wasn’t much against whatever mysterious ailment the child has, but hopefully it will help until he could get into contact with his old lieutenant; Baul, whose daughter had married a human, hopefully they would help and then Lilia can decide what to do next, but right now he’s happy to sit languidly on the sofa sipping the greatest hot chocolate he’s ever made, with his semi claimed child resting his weary head against his shoulder.

[wutheringwavesintelreport]

Today there's been massive drops of wuwa leaks on the upcoming ZheZhi and Xiangli Yao characters. If you don't want spoilers on their kit don't continue, but I won't include story spoilers so don't worry!

Xiangli Yao has been confirmed to be a gauntlet user instead of a pistol user. Kinda makes sense since he has a robot arm but I was really hoping for a pistol user tbh. He seems to use electro and the colors of his attacks are a pretty purple. I'm gonna be honest I don't think his weapon is that memorable (I don't think and of the weapons are really memorable rn, but I hope that changes) but it is cooler looking than other gauntlets.

His kit is kinda interesting. From how I understand the details he is very similar to Lingyang. When activating his resonance liberation he goes into intuition state where he gains 3 hypercubes. Each time he uses his skill he uses a cube and exits his intuition state when he uses them all. His inherent skill gives him more interruption res. (Sorry if this doesn't make sense I don't usually look at stats and numbers of chars, but I'm trying to learn.)

The kit for Zhezhi hasn't been leaked yet, but I will say her animations are a lot nicer than Xiangli Yao's. She uses a rectifier that is absolutely stunning and her attacks use a large paint brush as she moves in the air. Her movements kind of remind me of Jinshi since she kinda looks like she's swimming in the air. There seems to be talks of her being a support char and I really hope so. If that's true she'll be the first limited 5 star support.

Now this is a little suspicious to me, but apparently we'll be getting xiangli Yao for free with an event. The sources seem reliable, but I find it hard to believe that Kuro would be this generous with 5 stars. But, maybe that's the genshin player in me being so suspicious. The event will be helping set up some kind of festival. Tbh I really hope we get xiangli Yao for free just because he looks so cute and I want to keep saving for Scar and his weapon when he drops, so that would stop be from wasting my astrites.

I am not omniscient so if any of this is changed or proven false don't get upset at me!

I'll drop some more juicy leaks tomorrow on upcoming characters!

[zz0nie]

New Years HCs

notes; I am sosososo sorry for being so inactive, im kinda tipsy rn and i just wanted to post smth so have these two guys :3 feel free to suggest some ^-^

Chars; Alhaitham, Kaeya

Alhaitham

Alhaitham takes you to a private room around 5 minutes before the clock strikes 12 with no words shared between you two, slipping into a deep trance between each other's silence.

You bathe in his eyes as he takes you into a garden, full of flowers that bloom for winter a beautiful aura around. You started dating Alhaitham around a month ago, every time you look at him you fall in love all over again.

The countdown starts, you can hear everyone across the streets start counting down from 20. Alhaithams calm eyes pierce yours as you are fixated on him. His hands, holding yours gently from where he guided you. They gently loop around your own without either noticing.

You jokingly nudge his shoulder, "No pressure or anything, but this is my first kiss." His hands stiffen slightly and he pauses, "I've never done this either." Yet, those words calm both you down instantly knowing neither of you are good at this kind of thing, and there is no boundary that should be pushed.

3

2

1..

You close the gap between you and Alhaitham as he awkwardly holds you close towards him when you share that kiss. It wasn't anything GREAT, just two people simply in love and trying things together for the first time.

It's awkward when you pull back finally, neither of you know what to say. Yet, your eyes will meet his and all you can think to do is smile.

"Alhaitham?" You whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you for a while." You admit, as you loosen the grip you held on him, his face admits a perplexed look on his face, before he swiftly takes you in again.

Connecting your lips for a second time coming, a smile in your kiss as you look back to him, a doting smile on your face, in which he returns the best he can. "I love you." "I love you a little bit more."

Safe to say, it became a sweet tradition between you two to share secret kisses in the garden where no one could see you.

Kaeya

You had no one to celebrate new years with usually, until you met the Cavarly Captain Kaeya, who introduced you to his co-workers and friends alike, which lead to you be in Angel Shares currently with Kaeya and Rosaria.

However, Kaeya was partaking in conversation across the tavern, leaving you to silently drink with Rosaria, not that there was anything wrong with that - you honestly love Rosaria dearly, she's a great friend (and therapist).

"Why dont you talk to him?" Rosaria blurts out after finishing her 5th drink for the night. "Y'know... It's hard to not see the way your eyes are always watching his movements, kinda creepy if you're not careful with how much you look." She smirks, as her point is proven when Kaeya U-turns into your direction, directly looking at you.

"Goodluck." She turns around and goes to Diluc, who was serving at the bar - requesting yet another drink.

"Hey princess," Kaeya's arm hooks around your shoulder as he leans down to talk in your ear. "Can we have a talk? Just us. You and me." He has that suspicious smile on his face which screams "I want to cause problems!". Reluctantly, you follow him outside.

He's dramatic - theres a pause between the two of you as he takes you around the corner and you're nervous for once, until you hear the loud shouts of the tavern members counting down for the new year.

"Are we about to kiss right now?" You jokingly punch his arm, laughter turning into a gasp when you are pinned against the tavern wall, he leans in, closing the gap every second the tavern members count down. It's almost teasing. On one, he pulls away from you, yet his arm lingers above you. And complete defeat rolls out in expression, the breath you didn't realise you were holding gets released rather loudly.

He triumphantly grins to himself before leaning back into giving you a passionate kiss, his free hand curling against your face, landing against your cheek as he gently pulls you closer to him, away from the cold wall and into his warm heart.

He's smiling through this kiss, a gentle push against your lips. It's as if the world has grown into a multitude of new colours and smells when you pull away from Kaeya. "I've loved you ever since I first laid my eyes on you." Kaeya looks in your eyes, and you swear to yourself you're lost on him. He's your alcohol, your high.

"I've always loved you too."