#Ducky let's GO!

[giggly-squiggily]

I also think that Megumi is the resident interest listen to-er

Yuji rambling on about space, and the stars, and the solar system, anything about light and how reflection and refraction works, and all of the celebrity crushes he has, throwing a ball up and catching it as he lays on Megumi’s bed.

Nobara venting about stupid girl stuff. He listens intently as he softly brushes through her hair, putting a few small braids in it as he nods.

Maki spending lunch time with him, excitedly explaining how to use each tool she’s mastered.

Panda and him talking intensely about D&D stuff.

And I think Inumaki will listen to him talk about literally ANYTHING and this is why Megumi can understand him.

AHHHH! Wait I'm obsessed with this HELP!

Yuji laying on top of a half asleep Megumi, rambling on and on about the stars and horoscopes and celebrities and having those oddly deep conversations about their place in the solar system cause he's feeling extra philosophical this day. It's soothing and unexpected but so expected of him- Megumi sleeps better after chats like that.

Nobara venting to him about period cramps and shaving and how she hates the sizing in clothing stores while Megumi does her hair- he has no idea why underwire is such a sinful thing or why woman's pockets are made so shallow, but Nobara reminds him of his sister and it brings him such a sense of comfort.

Maki raving about her weapons and skills and the different types she loves and he's humming around his chopsticks nodding along with her glee thinking about how serious and at times somber she is and seeing her in such a happy state softens her edges and makes her ten times prettier in his eyes. At times he can't help but wonder how Nobara feels when she's like this. It's the same way he feels whenever Yuji is genuinely happy.

Oh God Panda and him being D&D fans I cannot! They have game nights and campaigns and their characters are best friends against the world- no one but Inumaki can keep up with their rambles but it's fun seeing them so happy.

MOOD! Megumi can tell Inumaki everything and our speech curse user is so good at listening and advice. Megumi could give him a whole monologue about his feelings regarding accidentally calling Gojo dad or the fact he's slowly developing a crush on his best friend whom he's pretty sure is straight or how he's not sure where he's going in life with his curse energy and whatnot- and Inumaki will pat his arm with a "Tuna mayo." and all his problems are resolved. Or at the very least- he doesn't feel nearly as stressed about it.

A little bonus cause YES!

Yuta and Megumi share stories about Gojo from time to time but really Megumi loves hearing Yuta's travel stories cause he has a small desire to do so himself one day and lives vicariously through him. I love to think they plan trips together down the road and Yuta takes him all over Japan in a "Fellow Gojo student road trip" sort of thing. he does it for all the first years but Megumi gets the first trip cause "Related to Gojo perks" lols

Ducky this gives me LIFE! Thank you so much for sharing the sillies with me! :D

[surreal-duck]

master artist and his number one fan

guy who is being so normal about the new additions to their profiles. i think abt midoris initial infatuation with his art slowly developing into appreciating yuzuru himself as a person and idol to the point he worries about how he sees him (ex: a bit of home party and in workplace survival rules) sometimes thats a lie i think about it a lot. and yuzuru learning to enjoy art just for the sake of drawing!! seeing the lets try diy story where he doesnt even refute drawing on midoris desk and was only worried that his doodles might cover up the mascot design compared to how discouraged he usually would be in earlier ! stories. everything to me i adore their dynamic if that wasnt obvious by *gestures to basically everything*

and happy pride month 🏳‍🌈

[lillazyboithings]

If I had a nickel for everytime my twin insulted me in the most hilarious and unintentional way ever by using food

I'd have 2 nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice and they both equally hit me in the gut

@i-am-cheese-fairy

(anyways to any moots on here who didn't know i have a twin....surprise)

[marchsfreakshow]

Perhaps you shall

RELEASE

OH MY GOD SIS

I WILL NEVER BE FREE. SOMEONE FREE ME FROM THIS CAGE I HAVE BEEN TRAPPED IN.

PLEASE I WILL NEVER GET OVER IT LMAOOO 😭😭😭

[gamer-in-training]

Sour choice your evilness.

[softlenaluthor]

Not to sound weird or anything, but I kinda feel like I’m starting to have less tolerance for weak plot twists when one of the people involved is a man. Which feels like weird? I just spent hours playing Days Gone only to realize that Sarah is alive and Deacon was right all along. Yeah, he was right, but he hurt a lot of people to get there. So basically he has no reason for character growth because he was right. Oddly enough, I feel like I might’ve liked this “twist” more if Deacon was a woman.

Meanwhile the plot twist of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey is that Aspasia ws the cult leader and I ate that shit up right away. Like, I knew it was a weak plot twist but I was so blinded by her character that I basically immediately forgave her and that’s how I played Kassandra.

Anyhow. I may feel different later as I haven’t finished Days Gone yet, I’m at the point where Deacon is about to drive off to fuck knows where to find Sarah. Maybe I’ll feel different after the two resolve their issues. I’m just not sure if I will and that bums me out because I was quite enjoying the game.

[alienducky]

How far do I want to take this duck thing I'm doing I wonder...

(And if I do buy them, which other 5 people do I want to duckify?)

Ok, so if I do both Byleth, both Shez, and Sothis, then that takes me up to 49

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

Pls never change your icon and URL at the same time bc I will lose my mind. I'm like ??? Whomst and see the icon and realization hits

dont worry i only get fatigue for one at a time ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[luridparty]

is it fucked up that i associate yonny with "mr. happy" by the insane clown posse OR is it sooo fucked up that it goes back to being sheer brilliance. these aare the thoughts..

[domesticmail]

Loading In - The Finals Fic

(better pics coming soon, i'm not a graphic designer by trade so bear with me lol)

Note: I've been working on this fic for a while :) To gauge interest I went ahead and posted a teaser a little while ago. While there obv isn't a huge fandom for the game on tumblr, I've always shared my writing here, regardless of who is or isn't interested. Badger, Ducky, and Lefty have been bouncing around my mind non-stop, so I had to at least experiment a little with their characters. This isn't very long, it was meant to be an exercise for myself to see if I liked what I had in mind, and it turns out I do! Figured I'd share to give an idea of the characters I'm going to expand on first. I hope you like them as much as I do!! (Most of the fic will be under the cut to avoid clogging up the dash)

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: A team of three players, randomly selected to play together from a small pool of the best of the best, meet each other before their first tournament in The Finals.

“Look bud, if you made it this far and you’re still asking other contestants for advice…” The fabric of his mask contorts into what could probably be called a grimace, and I had the sudden realization Badger’s face was still very expressive, even under a mask. His attention went immediately to his gun, hands grasping it like a lifeline. “But since I’d never shy away from giving my two cents…” Looking back to me, he continued, “Know your weapon like the back of your hand.”

I scoffed with a playful grin. “Is that it, old man? I know that much.”

“What? Oh, come on. Fuck you, kid.” Delighted indignance rose in his voice. Badger made a movement that I could only assume was meant to be an exaggerated eye roll, throwing his head back in a quick circle. I laughed, to his dismay. “Don’t laugh, asshole. You’re the one that asked me for advice!”

“Well, duh,” I responded. “You’ve been in the game for a while, I thought you’d have some sage advice to offer.”

He stared at me.

“You know,” I continued. “Like…elderly wisdom.”

Laughter erupted from my mouth before I could stop it. Badger started chuckling, then asked, “How old do you think I am?”

“Ancient.”

He shook his head. “No, come on, give it a real go.”

I stopped and studied his visible features, looking for anything uncovered to reveal the signs of age. Nothing. My brain froze for a moment; wait, why does he feel old to me, then? His voice? “You’re…in your forties.”

If I wasn’t a comedian previously, I definitely was now. Badger nearly crumbled over with laughter, arms gripping opposing sides as he bent over himself. “I - HA! - I am not that old.”

“How old are you, then?”

“How old are you? You know that’s a weird question, right?”

I shrugged. “Nobody ever told me.”

“Well, it is, so - ” He was quickly cut off by the door to our left swinging open with enough force to slam the wall. In strolled a tall, broad man with a proud smile. He walked like he believed he was a hundred feet tall, and you had no chance of convincing him otherwise. I had done some training with a Heavy in the prelims, and had definitely played against my fair share, but I didn’t really know how to work around one yet. Best guess? Go with my instinct, in the moment.

He stopped a few feet from Badger, then stuck out his hand. “Lefty.”

Badger watched him for a second, then introduced himself. The untouched hand dropped immediately.

Lefty then turned to me. On instinct I stuck my hand out, on second thought almost retracted it, but he had grabbed and began shaking by then. “Ducky.”

The stare I was expecting materialized on his face, the customary look everyone gave when they first heard my name. I resisted the urge to cringe, remembering my former teammates’ joy at my reaction. Instead, I smiled. “Not my choice,” I added.

He nodded. “Teammates in the qualifiers?”

“Yeah. You know how it is.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story!”

I would’ve gone on to explain, but a loud noise interrupted my train of thought. A high-pitched beeeep, followed by a woman’s voice carrying through the speakers mounted in the corners of the room. My mouth froze, half-open, as I recognized her: June. One of the announcers of the Finals.

In the prelims, the announcers were various influential personalities from the virtual world, common enough to be recognizable to their fans, but not so famous that everyone knew who they were. I suppose it was a method of engagement; your favorite influencer, announcing your every move in the arena as you fight for the chance to prove your mettle! 

But the real tournament - at least, the most popular part of the gameshow - was announced by two people, well-known and on the top of the world: June and Scotty. Their voices were immediately identifiable, whether it was a recording spilling from the nearby vending machine urging you to drink Ospuze, or blasting into your ears while your virtual body sat in the airborne stadium, watching the players below. And there I was, standing in a white room, waiting for my turn to fight for fame, listening to June’s voice address the three of us.

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. This was it; the real fucking thing. In a few minutes, I would be one of the people running amongst crashing buildings, hauling for a vault like my life depended on it. My chest tightened slightly; anxiety seeped into my bloodstream for a horrifying second, reminding me of the terror of the chase. 

I did well in the prelims. I had fought amongst hundreds of people in training, solidified my skills. Nobody had a better understanding of their class, their limitations, than I did; and yet, in that one second, right after hearing her voice, the panic I felt as a rookie reintroduced itself to me. 

Badger must’ve noticed the look on my face, because he shook his head at me. I didn’t know how to take that. Stop worrying? Stop staring off into the void? Shut the voice in your head up and listen to June?

Attempting to re-center myself, I focused on June’s voice.

“- and we’re so excited to have you all here with us today. You made it through the first gauntlet: the qualifiers! Today, as you already know, you’ll be fighting to impress the sponsors. Please feel free to help yourself to the equipment shelves at the back of your loading room. In just a few minutes, you’ll be out in the arena! Good luck, contestants!”

An electronic noise hissed behind us. Lefty laughed as Badger and I turned to look behind us. The wall had been replaced by racks of weapons and gadgets; I’d seen something similar in the qualifiers, but never to this degree. Nearly every weapon I had ever seen on the field was hanging there, pristine and perfectly rendered. 

Lefty walked up to the racks and began surveying the weapons, not carefully, but more like an excited child examining his toys to find exactly the right one to play with. Evidently, the shiny Lewis gun caught his eye, as he reached up and pulled it off the hooks holding it up. “They have all sorts of guns here,” he remarked offhandedly, still taking in every detail of the weapon in his hand.

“No shit,” I breathed. I’d been attached to my M11 since the training days. Sure, it wasn’t always exactly the same gun, considering we’re in virtual reality, and the rules of materials worked differently here than in the meatspace, but I’d never laid my hands on another gun. I thought about what Badger said: Know your weapon like the back of your hand.

He didn’t mean anything close to sentimentalism. It was more practical than it seemed. There’s a lot that goes into shooting a weapon, more than simply your finger on the trigger and your sights on a target; knowing the fire rate, the recoil pattern, how many shots it takes to kill each class. Humans are amazing at pattern recognition, and our weapons, our tools, follow patterns. As we use them, our subconscious is familiarizing itself with the routine, and if you’re smart, you’re actively studying the way it functions. At a certain point it becomes an extension of yourself, another part of your body you know inherently how and when to use. 

As you practice, your gun becomes a piece of you, integrating itself into your playstyle. To swap it out for an unfamiliar weapon means changing the entire way you play. Sure, objectively, a burst-fire AR might function just as well as a full-auto, but I’ve seen them go up against each other; a burst-fire will take slightly longer to kill an opponent than the full-auto. Those few seconds can be the difference between winning the engagement and waiting for a revive, or anxiously counting down the seconds before you can respawn. Someone familiar with the burst-fire should know that and account for it; someone unfamiliar will rush into the conflict the same as they would with any other, paying no attention to the weapon their opponent might be carrying or what cover their environment provides.

If you want to reach the Finals, you have to play well. Playing well requires at least ten different skills, all working in unison to help you survive and devastate. You can’t do that if you’re still trying to figure out the recoil pattern, because you decided to play with a different weapon this time.

“You guys aren’t going to load up?” Lefty’s voice broke the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. He was looking back and forth between Badger and I, waiting for one of us to respond. I looked at Badger, still holding his FCAR close.

“No,” he said. We waited for an explanation, but none came.

Lefty glanced at me, then back at the wall. “You too, Ducky?”

I grimaced. “No. I’m good with what I’ve got.” 

“You don’t have anything on you,” he pointed out.

On cue, I summoned my M11. It appeared in my right hand, the weight comfortable, familiar. I waved it around a bit to show him. 

“Right,” he mumbled. “I’m never going to get used to that.”

Even if we spent most of our lives in virtuality, there was nothing that could prepare you for the shock of being able to call a weapon into your hands with only a thought. I remembered practicing in a gray-walled, dingy training room, the instructor reminding me to simply tell the simulation I wanted a specific gun in my hand. “Just focus on how it looks while you hold it,” he’d said. “Tell the sim what you want, and it’ll give it to you.”

Simple as that. You ask, the sim gives. Of course it’s more complicated in practice, an innumerable amount of lines of code reading and interpreting your brainwaves faster than you could consciously think, telling microscopic components which flows of current to accept and block off, all amounting in a virtual gun in my virtual hand. But in practice? It really was that simple. I asked for the gun I wanted, and it gave it to me. 

“Nobody gets used to it,” Badger said. “Maybe it becomes muscle memory, yeah, but every time you go back to the meatspace - you’ll remember how insane it is.”

Lefty nodded. The Lewis gun, resting in his hands, began to dematerialize into the air. Bright white squares of data, like a flurry of snowflakes, lifted into the air as the gun deconstructed itself and was stored as ones and zeroes somewhere far away. That’s how it worked: you found a gun that worked for you, and told the sim to save it as your primary. It would dissolve into data, stored safely in the binary space between virtuality and computer hardware, so you could call on it again whenever you needed. The previous primary would be deleted and the new primary would take its place. So on and so forth, as many times as you wanted; but never more than one weapon at a time.

As the Lewis disappeared into the ether, so too did the entire selection of Heavy-class weapons, replaced by a number of gadgets. These were your utilities, or utils. Your loadout, no matter the class, could hold three; the decision of which three was always left up to the contestant. Of course, just like the weapons, they were different for each class.

I watched Lefty waltz up to the gadgets wall with a pensive look. How can he not have at least one default pick?

By this point, I knew exactly what I liked, and didn’t need to change it. My trusty M11, a stun gun, and two different grenades: gas and frag. In the beginning I did a lot of screwing around with other gadgets, mixing and matching different utils until I found the loadout I liked the most. I spent my time in training familiarizing myself with how they functioned in battle, how to use them to their maximum efficiency. I wouldn’t have the time in the qualifiers, where everyone was focusing on strategy and kills, vying for enough fan support to be sent to the tournaments.

And yet there was Lefty, just grabbing grenades off the wall and pulling the pin to see if they worked in our loading room. Anxiety began to rise in my gut. If Lefty was so comfortable screwing around with dangerous weapons, did he actually know what he was doing? I mean, he made it to this point, at least, so he can’t be bad, but the ease with which he swapped gadgets out in virtuality was making me nervous. It was near impossible for him to be comfortable with each gadget individually, let alone to have an understanding of how they worked in conjunction with one another.

I took a deep breath. Best to let his performance speak for itself. Worry about him when you’re in the arena, I chided myself. No use suffering now.

Badger piped up, finally, filling the silence. “Do you actually know how to use any of that?”

“Of course I do!” Lefty replied indignantly. “I’m just figuring out what I want to use. It’s a big decision.”

The expression of fabric on Badger’s face betrayed no emotion, but I could’ve sworn I felt a hint of annoyance radiating off of him. 

They began to bicker in an almost-familiar manner, and I felt a sense of camaraderie. It was just for a moment, though, as June’s voice cut through the argument. 

“Okay, contestants! It’s time to load into the arena. Welcome to The Finals!”

I looked over to Badger as he moved to face me. “It’s time, rookies,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Rookies. How long has he been trying to get into the arena? How many times did he fail in the prelims? Has he been here before? A million questions ran through my mind, but the moment for curiosity had passed. 

Badger and Lefty began to disappear into data as my vision turned to static. Loading in was almost more nerve-wracking than the experience itself, watching the virtual environment shift and flow into a new image, a new environment, creating a whole world from mere numbers. Watching the sim adjust your surroundings, it was impossible not to recognize the moment where you yourself became nothing but data. The first time it happened, I felt a surge of panic: what if I get lost?

Of course, that couldn’t happen.The sim knew what and where you should be, and had never lost track of someone in virtuality. 

My vision stretched and skewed until I rematerialized into what is best described as a red tunnel, expanding forwards roughly 30 feet before dissolving into a white light. I’d seen this before, but not in prelims or training; this is where the audience was introduced to the contestants. While they saw a stream of video displaying all the teams in succession as June and Scotty explained what each team was named. We never got to choose - each was randomly picked from a pre-generated list.

I could hear the announcer’s voices as Lefty and Badger materialized on either side of me. Lefty, to his credit, looked less like he was going to barf than I thought he would’ve. Badger seemed unphased. He stared straight ahead at the end of the tunnel; I wondered what face he was making under the mask, what thoughts were running through his head.

My anxiety began to mix with adrenaline as another high-pitched beeeep sounded off behind us, the go-ahead to run through the red and into the light. Our feet began to pound the floor underneath as we each broke into a full-speed run towards the end of the tunnel, a cacophony of thunder filling my ears. I pushed myself into the white, feeling the edges of my body break apart and fit themselves back together. 

Out of the training stage, into the tournament.

[giggly-squiggily]

HI :DD

I hav sent you sillies 👀👀👀 you might enjoy them !! :)

Ducky!!! :D

I have now found the sillies! Oo, I can’t wait to respond! They’ve made my day already! 🥰🥰🥰

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor���s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

[selineram3421]

Alastor's Rut Headcanons🦌

Requested

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ its that time of the year and Alastor hates it, implied/suggestive, violence🔪, kisses ⚠

Alastor was in rut.

It was an uncomfortable part of his deer half that he had not accepted. He usually spent this time indoors or a radio broadcast slaughter to take his mind off it.

The problem is that this year it was different. Persistent.

He had a significant other.

They were the sweetest and deadliest thing. A demon that had started working in the hotel recently, with a good taste in music and food.

Rosie also favored them when he introduced the two.

He noticed himself become more possessive when other demons were too close to them. Or if some filthy scum would stare too long.

Then his antlers were itchy.

He had to rub his antlers against a tree to get rid of the feeling. (In the dead of night, somewhere far away from others. Satan forbid if anyone saw him.)

Having been a hunter, he knew what this meant..

There would be problems if anyone were to so much as touch his mate partner.

He'll let his love know about the rut. Mostly for their safety and know that its deer instinct.

During this time, he picked up a few habits. Like making sure his love was well fed, needs taken care of, and showered with gifts.

He already does that but its taken up a notch.

And he's more affectionate, physically that is. More kisses or hand holding PDA wise to steer off any rivals demons.

Almost killing Angel (When isn't he?) when the spider demon got too close to his partner.

Almost kills a few others too. And at some point he's basically sent home until he feels normal again.

You go with him because you're worried.

This leads to more intimate activities.

Of course he's doing his best to not go too far. Mostly kisses and gentle caresses.

Though there is one time that he needs relief of some kind..

I'll just let you imagine that bit.

Its around December that he starts to feel slightly better.

Let's his partner know that he's not comfortable during rut and thanks them for staying by his side. (Also apologizing if he made them uncomfortable.)

Its February when he finally feels normal again.

*scrolling through deer facts* Huh ok.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @scary-noodlesblog @ducky-died-inside @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[marchsfreakshow]

(Pokes holes in all condoms)

-Warren 🚬

So that's a yes.

[goldieclaws]

Anyway, looking forward to seeing the bestie (Crenando) and hoping he's more like his TP/WW self and not just 'big monster go rawr XD'

[cyberm4n]

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 2!

(i tagged people who commented asking for part 2 but lmk if you want to be untagged)

pt1, pt3

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix

cw: explicit smut, not thoroughly proofread, lucifer has a daddy kink, still in a hinge type relationship, hints to radioapple if you squint

other: i wrote part of this while very high so if there's a random perspective change just know i was cooking so hard with writing that i forgot to write in 2nd person pov

■ let's be honest neither of them are particularly interested in the other halfs involvement in this equation

■ but it's incredibly hard to deny that they work well together with you in the bedroom

■ when they want to, of course.

■ so there's a silent agreement between them that they usually put their beef aside cause like. they have you atleast.

■ i think alastor would still want to be close though, so most often your head is laid in his lap or he's touching you somehow

■ but there is a VERY strict line of sight he follows because depending on what exactly is going on this position makes it far too easy for the two men to just be staring at each other and that is 100% a no go for them

■ which i mean, fair enough

■ lucifer does tend to get a little possessive on the rare occasion alastor decides he wants to participate a little

"oh sweetheart, daddy is making you feel so good, right?" he would coo at you as he bullies his cock into you again.

alastor, tilting your head back with his hand, claws scraping at the soft skin of your neck. a good portion of your upper body is laid out on him, his other hand pinning your arm down.

"eyes on me, darling" he'd say, only for lucifer to give a particularly rough thrust, trying to get your attention back.

the main ground rule you had set is that they were not allowed to bicker with each other during intimate moments, so after a whine escapes your throat the two set it aside. for now.

■ i feel like alastor is strictly a dom, especially considering most of the time he's not really physically participating

■ lucifer id say is more of a service top. he wants you to feel good and he wants to know how good you feel.

■ i think he'd bottom if you really wanted him too but like only if he gets to make you feel good yk

■ alastor does particularly enjoy watching lcuifer go down on you, seeing you writhe in pleasure and moan so sweetly is like music to his ears.

■ he'd love to broadcast this

■ there is sometimes alastor takes a complete backseat though

■ maybe he's not in the mood or just wanting a different angle

■ so that's how you ended up riding lucifer while alastor gleefully watches from a chair beside the bed

"s'ok princess, you can do it" lucifer would say, hands on your hips as he guides you down on his cock. you squirm and whimper as he stretches you open.

with his guidance you start gently grinding your hips down, and lucifer lulls his head back, sweet praises falling out of his mouth.

"fuck.. that's it. ride daddy's cock. you're such a good girl" he'd moan as he rubs your clit. it's not long before he gets impatient though, wanting to hear more moans coming out of his pretty girl, hands returning to your hips as he bucks into you.

"you like it when he watches?" lucifer practically growls, hips thrusting up harder now. "cmon baby, talk to me" he'd gently tut, slowing down to such a painfully slow pace.

you're practically reduced to nothing, giving a weak moan, both of their smiles growing wider. "such a good duckling, letting daddy get his fill. gonna fill you up princess" lucifer says as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, another thing lucifer loved to do.

■ alastor has never been a fan of the more personalized petnames lucifer calls you

■ "duckling" "ducky" "doll"

■ but he has some of his own

you're on your knees in alastors radio tower, the very rare occasion lucifer just isnt feeling up to it. he's never been a big fan of receiving head, and he's just not feeling it today, comfortably sat in a chair.

alastor on the other hand, his hands are wound tight into your hair as you suck him off. "oh my sweet doe, so desperate to please" alastor would purr, feeling your tongue swirl around his cock.

"i understand why you... indulge so often. our little pet is such a people pleaser, isn't she?" he'd chime to lucifer, who doesn't respond, not really atleast.

■ but aftercare

■ oh aftercare from these two is amazing

■ the only time they firmly agree with each other and leave everything else behind is during after care.

■ it doesn't matter which of them you want or what you want they're gonna make it happen

■ if you want both of them that's great! and they definitely won't get mildy possessive of you at all!!

■ lucifer is definitely a big cuddler

■ and i feel like alastor would be about praise and affirmations, especially after playing "bad cop" the whole time.

■ not that he minds that, mind you.

"darling you were amazing, im so proud of you" he'd say in a much gentler tone, stroking your hair as you lay on lucifers chest, whos pressing soft kisses across your face.

lucifers hands trace soft circles on your back as they both murmur affections to you, and when you finally slump your forehead to lucifers shoulder, they both breathe out a smile.

if he's feeling particularly charitable, lucifer will nod to alastor to take you, to cuddle with you. most of the time alastor declines respectfully, still not really prone to expose himself to touch.

but on the rare occasion he takes the offer, switching places as he cuddles into you, lucifer cracks a little smile.

they really do make a good team, don't they?